Please forgive my inability to condense everything into one page.

CHAPTER ONE

The very last emotion she felt of her life was terror. Sheer terror. Fear of the great abyss of death. She knew she was going to die at age 21 as she drove her husband's pickup down off the road 273 feet. And then, mercifully, there was total blackness. She didn't feel herself flying 70 feet over the barbed wired fence.

Approximately a month later, a different woman was lying in a bed with all types of contraptions attached to her and it hurt. She couldn't understand why they made her stay in bed, why she couldn't move, why there was so much pain, so she just lay and moaned. She couldn't even form words or coherent thoughts, it was a just blur of pain.

She was a different woman because she had just experienced what is now referred to as a traumatic brain injury. In 1978, it was considered a severe brain trauma threatening her life, and just one of her myriad of injuries. They included a broken pelvis, legs, arm, part of her spine, paralysis of her left side, and open lacerations from flying over that barb wire fence. She would never be the same Olga that she was before she went off the road. The vivacious, intelligent and high-energy, over achieving artist and talented musician she had been was no more.

This Olga had no ability to do anything. She couldn't even talk at first, words just weren't there. Worse, she couldn't pronounce the few that were. She finally figured out her name, that she liked certain nurses, and had a lot of pain. The nurses would come into her room, ask her, demand that she follow their orders, then scold her for continuing to moan and whimper in the night. They told her that she was keeping other patients awake with her sounds.

She was allowed no pain medication, they explained, because they were afraid she would go back to sleep and not wake up. They told her she had been hurt very bad in an accident, but she was getting better every day. One stated this as she matter-of-factly shoved green slime into Olga's mouth during suppertime.

She didn't know what it was, it just tasted bad. She tried shaking her head and saying "no", but the nasty nurse was oblivious to Olga's extreme dislike of that hospital's tortured vegetable. "You need to eat all your spinach like a nice girl so you can get nice and strong," cooed the nurse. Olga finally spat the yucky stuff all over the nurse. The nurse got the idea. Olga didn't get any more supper that night.

Olga finally realized that she had someone in her life, a man came to see her on weekends. She pined for his presence, it seemed like he knew her and cared. It turned out to be her husband, who she learned, was named Earl. Every day the neurosurgeon would come into her room and ask her what her husband's name was. She was learning to form more words, and Earl was one of them. She would usually tell him Earl, but one day she couldn't remember and told the Dr. "John". The Dr. said, "I thought your husband's name was Earl", and she tried to reply, that he went by both names. John was his middle name. None of this was true.

Now why did I say that? She wondered. A lot of things didn't make sense. Many years later, Olga would marvel at the uncanny ability of a child's mind to create something to protect and prevent itself from being caught giving a wrong answer. It would take years to get to that period of psychological development from her fragile, child-like consciousness to where she could analyze or understand anything that had occurred during that period.

She was so lonely and had no stimulation for hours and hours. Once in a while she got visitors. Once, the woman who had adopted her at age 9, who she called mom, came and visited her. Olga knew who she was immediately. She begged her to stay. "Mom", reminded her she had been there when Olga was still unconscious, and couldn't afford to keep coming all the way to a different state to visit. She reminded Olga how she used to be a musician and left a tape recorder with a couple of tapes. Olga listened to them over and over and over. The nurses got so tired of hearing them so many times, one of the brought her a few more tapes to listen to.

Olga still wasn't sure what had happened except she'd been in a bad wreck and nothing seemed to work. Once, her wedding ring fell off her hand. It was only an inexpensive small gold band, but Olga went ballistic when it fell off. She waved her hands awkwardly, screeching at the top of her lungs for someone to come to her room. She didn't realize she could push a button to get a nurse, yet.

Several people came rushing to her room, but Olga had such labored poor speech that no one could understand that her ring had fallen off. She flopped her hands, and kept trying to get someone to look for it. She was afraid it would be swept up by the cleaning lady that came in every day and it would be discarded forever. That was her only link to Earl when he was gone all week. One of the people in her room finally realized Olga's ring was lying on the bed beneath her arm, and slipped it back on. Olga's tiny world was OK again.

22 YEARS LATER

A lot has happened since that scene I wrote about. I spent a few months at the hospital, then returned to my residence on my own. My husband & I were given basically nothing in the way of resources or support during this time. I lay on a couch, unable to even get myself a glass of water while my husband went to work every day. Once, I fell while trying to pull my pants up after going to the bathroom. My walker skittered across the bathroom floor, and I was unable to get up, my pants back on or get off the floor until my husband returned home many hours later,

Then I lived in a nursing home for a short while, went through incredible amounts of physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, psychotherapy and biofeedback. I eventually walked with leg braces and a walker, then fore-arm canes, canes, and now only use a cane when around a lot of people, on ice, or excessively tired.

After leaving the nursing home using only leg braces and a walker, I hobbled to the University and started attending classes but had to tape my classes the first two years, because I was still relearning to write.

I believed things were going to get better, and they did, despite extreme poverty, abandonment, then divorce, ongoing challenges, surgeries, a period of homelessness and frequent lack of transportation.

I continued to create my own therapy, long after Medicaid and Vocational Rehabilitation determined that I was never going to get any better, and stopped paying for any therapy. I did continue to improve, especially in physical deficits I experienced by working harder and practicing more.

I lost the one thing central to my being when I was hurt, my ability to perform music. I had always dreamed of becoming a violist in a renowned symphony, and this was not possible after loosing all coordination like I had. There was no way to accomplish the delicate coordination and skill required performing on viola. So I sought out working at the college radio station.

I had no intention of becoming an announcer due to the acquired speech impediment, I just wanted to be Music Director. I later discovered that this was the most sought after job, and the only way to become one was by "paying your dues", as an announcer, then one of the lesser executive positions. What a wonderful opportunity for developing better speech and breathing! Listeners would say, "Who is that dork? She can't talk, but she sure can play a great show." Later, after much improvement, people were intrigued by my unique accent and wonder if my slower, laid back voice was to make it sound sexy. One of the steps toward becoming what I wanted was to be the Chief Announcer, which I did. I discovered I have a talent for teaching people while in that domain. I did accomplish my goal of becoming Music Director, and was thrilled to be reaching people through music, even if I could no longer perform it, I could play it.

I finally graduated with a BS in Psychology in 1986, president of Psi Chi, the University's chapter of a national honorary organization. I found it amazing that I had to get brain damage to do well in school!

After more poverty, graduate school, volunteer work then paid work, and many more challenges, I was offered a position by the state of North Dakota working in the field of mental health. I felt good about my job and what I did. I believed I could make a difference in people's lives. I believe that everyone deserves a chance to better themselves and that almost anything is possible.

II worked primarily with people that had burned their bridges everywhere they had turned. Usually, they showed up at my door straight from prison, the psychiatric ward, or off the streets with nothing but the shirt on their backs saying, "Help me."

I would explain that I couldn't take care of them but that I was very good at helping them to help themselves. I could show them some tools if they wanted to change their way of life. I was grateful for the constraints of the federal grant I helped disperse, which specified one time help only. With this, I could give them assistance if they desired to use some of the suggestions I offered. Included in these suggestions were ways to develop self-sufficiency for the following month, when I could no longer help them financially. More than once, colleagues informed me that it was a hopeless case and that I should quit wasting my time with some of the individuals. It took courage to stand up to people who had been in the field for many more years than I had and disagree with them, having to defend my actions. I believe in acting in my client's best interest, even when it brings personal discomfort to myself in regard to other staff.

One case comes to mind that exemplifies the belief that I made the correct decision. A former prostitute with cocaine and alcohol addiction, bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder sought my assistance after she was released from the psychiatric ward and was homeless. People at the Center knew her and her family and told me it was not worth the effort. This woman and I definitely had some challenging times together, but she gradually started developing an awareness of the person she was capable of becoming. In only 3 years she went from being homeless and very ill with self-destructive behavior to managing her addictions and illness, living on her own, buying a new car, running a business, graduating from a local University branch with 4 Associate Degrees while staying on the President's List and applying to Mayo Clinic for a job so that she could continuing her education there. What an exciting opportunity to watch someone grow like that!

After attending several months of a homeless coalition while in my position of Coordinator/Homeless Case Manager, I realized that it was a small group of well meaning individuals that did no more than share rhetoric about their concerns. I started dreaming of goals that involved actually doing something to address their concerns, and sharing my vision of what could be accomplished if we worked together to achieve them.

It was incredibly exciting to help the group to recognize their individual strengths and how they could be used together to create an organization that could become an active force in the community. What a group! They followed through on a few suggestions and were able network to inform each other of available services at many different agencies and organizations, better consolidate the services, and create new services to fit the gaps between the services. They became a 501-C tax-free coalition that developed a CHDO to successfully obtain federal funding to create housing. They became the only homeless coalition in the state that received United Way funds. They made a difference in countless people's lives.

I obtained a scholarship to pay part of the costs and went into debt to obtain training and certification in NeuroLinguistic Programming to improve my skills. This involved going to Colorado using my comp time and vacation. While there, I became involved with a man in what I believed was a relationship meant to happen because of how healthy, physically and emotionally I felt.

After 4 years of a growing long distance relationship that became an engagement, with both of us visiting each other frequently, I finally resigned my position. I used my retirement savings to move. I believed I would have no problem becoming employed in my field due to my education, experience & accomplishments.

I was wrong. I moved to a tourist area, where there are very few professional jobs. Most jobs are part time with no benefits. Most jobs require the stamina of standing on your feet while giving service to tourists. Intelligence doesn't matter, quickness and physical ability does.

Shortly after moving, my fiancée ended the relationship, leaving me feeling abandoned, broke, and feeling very gullible for believing another person would follow through with promises made repeatedly before I moved. Although the end of this relationship was the most devastating relationship end I had ever experienced, I somehow picked up the pieces.

I tried to help myself by exercising, swimming, weight training and taking supplements. I lost weight, felt great and again believed in the future.

2 ½ years later, things changed. I will write more about that another time.

This Olga had no ability to do anything. She couldn't even talk at first, words just weren't there. Worse, she couldn't pronounce the few that were. She finally figured out her name, that she liked certain nurses, and had a lot of pain. The nurses would come into her room, ask her, demand that she follow their orders, then scold her for continuing to moan and whimper in the night. They told her that she was keeping other patients awake with her sounds.

She was allowed no pain medication, they explained, because they were afraid she would go back to sleep and not wake up. They told her she had been hurt very bad in an accident, but she was getting better every day. One stated this as she matter-of-factly shoved green slime into Olga's mouth during suppertime.

She didn't know what it was, it just tasted bad. She tried shaking her head and saying "no", but the nasty nurse was oblivious to Olga's extreme dislike of that hospital's tortured vegetable. "You need to eat all your spinach like a nice girl so you can get nice and strong," cooed the nurse. Olga finally spat the yucky stuff all over the nurse. The nurse got the idea. Olga didn't get any more supper that night.

Olga finally realized that she had someone in her life, a man came to see her on weekends. She pined for his presence, it seemed like he knew her and cared. It turned out to be her husband, who she learned, was named Earl. Every day the neurosurgeon would come into her room and ask her what her husband's name was. She was learning to form more words, and Earl was one of them. She would usually tell him Earl, but one day she couldn't remember and told the Dr. "John". The Dr. said, "I thought your husband's name was Earl", and she tried to reply, that he went by both names. John was his middle name. None of this was true.

Now why did I say that? She wondered. A lot of things didn't make sense. Many years later, Olga would marvel at the uncanny ability of a child's mind to create something to protect and prevent itself from being caught giving a wrong answer. It would take years to get to that period of psychological development from her fragile, child-like consciousness to where she could analyze or understand anything that had occurred during that period.

She was so lonely and had no stimulation for hours and hours. Once in a while she got visitors. Once, the woman who had adopted her at age 9, who she called mom, came and visited her. Olga knew who she was immediately. She begged her to stay. "Mom", reminded her she had been there when Olga was still unconscious, and couldn't afford to keep coming all the way to a different state to visit. She reminded Olga how she used to be a musician and left a tape recorder with a couple of tapes. Olga listened to them over and over and over. The nurses got so tired of hearing them so many times, one of the brought her a few more tapes to listen to.

Olga still wasn't sure what had happened except she'd been in a bad wreck and nothing seemed to work. Once, her wedding ring fell off her hand. It was only an inexpensive small gold band, but Olga went ballistic when it fell off. She waved her hands awkwardly, screeching at the top of her lungs for someone to come to her room. She didn't realize she could push a button to get a nurse, yet.

Several people came rushing to her room, but Olga had such labored poor speech that no one could understand that her ring had fallen off. She flopped her hands, and kept trying to get someone to look for it. She was afraid it would be swept up by the cleaning lady that came in every day and it would be discarded forever. That was her only link to Earl when he was gone all week. One of the people in her room finally realized Olga's ring was lying on the bed beneath her arm, and slipped it back on. Olga's tiny world was OK again.

22 Years Later

A lot has happened since that scene I wrote about. I spent a few months at the hospital, then returned to my residence on my own. My husband & I were given basically nothing in the way of resources or support during this time. I lay on a couch, unable to even get myself a glass of water while my husband went to work every day. Once, I fell while trying to pull my pants up after going to the bathroom. My walker skittered across the bathroom floor, and I was unable to get up, my pants back on or get off the floor until my husband returned home many hours later.

I lived in a nursing home for a short while, went through incredible amounts of physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, psychotherapy and biofeedback. I eventually walked with leg braces and a walker, then fore-arm canes, canes, and now only use a cane when around a lot of people, on ice, or excessively tired.

After leaving the nursing home using only leg braces and a walker, I hobbled to the University and started attending classes but had to tape my classes the first two years, because I was still relearning to write.

I believed things were going to get better, and they did, despite extreme poverty, abandonment, then divorce, ongoing challenges, surgeries, a period of homelessness and frequent lack of transportation.

I continued to create my own therapy, long after Medicaid and Vocational Rehabilitation determined that I was never going to get any better, and stopped paying for any therapy. I did continue to improve, especially in physical deficits I experienced by working harder and practicing more.

I lost the one thing central to my being when I was hurt, my ability to perform music. I had always dreamed of becoming a violist in a renowned symphony, and this was not possible after loosing all coordination like I had. There was no way to accomplish the delicate coordination and skill required performing on viola. So I sought out working at the college radio station.

I had no intention of becoming an announcer due to the acquired speech impediment, I just wanted to be Music Director. I later discovered that this was the most sought after job, and the only way to become one was by "paying your dues", as an announcer, then one of the lesser executive positions. What a wonderful opportunity for developing better speech and breathing! Listeners would say, "Who is that dork? She can't talk, but she sure can play a great show." Later, after much improvement, people were intrigued by my unique accent and wonder if my slower, laid back voice was to make it sound sexy. One of the steps toward becoming what I wanted was to be the Chief Announcer, which I did. I discovered I have a talent for teaching people while in that domain. I did accomplish my goal of becoming Music Director, and was thrilled to be reaching people through music, even if I could no longer perform it, I could play it.

I finally graduated with a BS in Psychology in 1986, president of Psi Chi, the University's chapter of a national honorary organization. I found it amazing that I had to get brain damage to do well in school!

After more poverty, graduate school, volunteer work then paid work, and many more challenges, I was offered a position by the state of North Dakota working in the field of mental health. I felt good about my job and what I did. I believed I could make a difference in people's lives. I believe that everyone deserves a chance to better themselves and that almost anything is possible.

II worked primarily with people that had burned their bridges everywhere they had turned. Usually, they showed up at my door straight from prison, the psychiatric ward, or off the streets with nothing but the shirt on their backs saying, "Help me."

I would explain that I couldn't take care of them but that I was very good at helping them to help themselves. I could show them some tools if they wanted to change their way of life. I was grateful for the constraints of the federal grant I helped disperse, which specified one time help only. With this, I could give them assistance if they desired to use some of the suggestions I offered. Included in these suggestions were ways to develop self-sufficiency for the following month, when I could no longer help them financially. More than once, colleagues informed me that it was a hopeless case and that I should quit wasting my time with some of the individuals. It took courage to stand up to people who had been in the field for many more years than I had and disagree with them, having to defend my actions. I believe in acting in my client's best interest, even when it brings personal discomfort to myself in regard to other staff.

One case comes to mind that exemplifies the belief that I made the correct decision. A former prostitute with cocaine and alcohol addiction, bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder sought my assistance after she was released from the psychiatric ward and was homeless. People at the Center knew her and her family and told me it was not worth the effort. This woman and I definitely had some challenging times together, but she gradually started developing an awareness of the person she was capable of becoming. In only 3 years she went from being homeless and very ill with self-destructive behavior to managing her addictions and illness, living on her own, buying a new car, running a business, graduating from a local University branch with 4 Associate Degrees while staying on the President's List and applying to Mayo Clinic for a job so that she could continuing her education there. What an exciting opportunity to watch someone grow like that!

After attending several months of a homeless coalition while in my position of Coordinator/Homeless Case Manager, I realized that it was a small group of well meaning individuals that did no more than share rhetoric about their concerns. I started dreaming of goals that involved actually doing something to address their concerns, and sharing my vision of what could be accomplished if we worked together to achieve them.

It was incredibly exciting to help the group to recognize their individual strengths and how they could be used together to create an organization that could become an active force in the community. What a group! They followed through on a few suggestions and were able network to inform each other of available services at many different agencies and organizations, better consolidate the services, and create new services to fit the gaps between the services. They became a 501-C tax-free coalition that developed a CHDO to successfully obtain federal funding to create housing. They became the only homeless coalition in the state that received United Way funds. They made a difference in countless people's lives.

I obtained a scholarship to pay part of the costs and went into debt to obtain training and certification in NeuroLinguistic Programming to improve my skills. This involved going to Colorado using my comp time and vacation. While there, I became involved with a man in what I believed was a relationship meant to happen because of how healthy, physically and emotionally I felt.

After 4 years of a growing long distance relationship that became an engagement, with both of us visiting each other frequently, I finally resigned my position. I used my retirement savings to move. I believed I would have no problem becoming employed in my field due to my education, experience & accomplishments.

I was wrong. I moved to a tourist area, where there are very few professional jobs. Most jobs are part time with no benefits. Most jobs require the stamina of standing on your feet while giving service to tourists. Intelligence doesn't matter, quickness and physical ability does.

Shortly after moving, my fiancée ended the relationship, leaving me feeling abandoned, broke, and feeling very gullible for believing another person would follow through with promises made repeatedly before I moved. Although the end of this relationship was the most devastating relationship end I had ever experienced, I somehow picked up the pieces.

I tried to help myself by exercising, swimming, weight training and taking supplements. I lost weight, felt great and again believed in the future. Right now I am not experiencing a fun future, some things are very challenging, but I wrote this to remind myself I've come through some rough times before so I should somehow be able to make it through rough times now.....(thanks for reading this)

Email olga