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My new life begins in January 1981 after an eight pound African statue fell from the top shelf of my bookcase and landed (twice) on my left temple as I laid on the floor watching television. I was the sole adult in a household with my four very young children who later told me the statue greeted a plastic ball which promoted its decent. I laid on the floor, unconscious, for 4-5 hours. I came out of my "sleep" slowly and felt enraged at "something" although not knowing what or why. I can recall taking a small hammer from my youngest and pitching it across the room. Still groggy, it took all my power to lift myself up onto the coffee table where I grasped the edge to hold myself steady. I noticed the now broken statue laying on the shelf of the bookcase and asked why no one had told me they had broken it! The wooden base of the statue was now gone and there were sharp wooden shrards where legs once were. It was then I was told, "Mommy, that feel on you. You've been asleep for a long time."

I remember being confused and told my oldest to take the rest of the children off to bed. It was now 10:00 p.m. I had been asleep, a long time. I tried to evaluate myself by looking into my pupils but couldn't notice anything. There was a loud ringing in my left ear. I didn't feel like anything more was wrong, until I received a telephone call from my father in-law who was telling me he would be visiting the next day. I concurred by telling him, I would tell my husband his father would be here November, at 10 on November. I was speaking very slow and deliberate, I couldn't get words out related to dates or time...everything was just November! Dad asked me if I had been drinking which I told him no, I had just had a bump to my head and felt a bit dazed.

Needless to say, I stayed up quite late, vacuuming and cleaning for his visit. I worked as an expediture for a fastener company and found I had over slept the next morning. I jetted out of the house and arrived to work about 1/2 hour late. I started feeling a small amount of pressure in my left ear. By about 10:00am it felt like I had a peach pit in my ear, it was very troubling. I called the Navy hospital (we were dependents) and explained my symptoms and what had happened. Their question, was there any blood coming out of my ear? No. Then not to worry they told me. I apologized for my intrusion and went back to my desk. By 11 I was having difficulty forming words during telephone conversations with customers. They were laughing at me. One customer became peeved at not only the issue of his product not being shipped but my inability to communicate with him.

I felt myself overcome with anger and bolted out to the warehouse where I promptly, and quite unexpectantly, "raged" with profanities at the men in the warehouse. All 100# of my 5' frame screamed rudeness their way. I received an appropriate response, laughter...which ired me even more. I realized I couldn't verbally express myself and grabbed paper and pen and wrote my obscenities and threw it at them. As I attempted to "march" back to my office, I began to falter, "listing" to the left, wanting to fall over on the right. My office mates noticed my condition and hovered around me as I returned to my chair. I could feel my teeth begin to clench, the strength leaving my body, and I strained to find focus for where I was. I shook my head when asked to lay down. And grabbed the seat of my desk chair hoping to keep myself from falling out. By 1pm, my husband arrived to collect me for the ride to the hospital. He'd been to lunch with his father who had to find him, given I had forgotten to relay his pending visit. My husband worked nites.

I stubbornly wanted to "walk" out to the car and did with some assistance. I walked like "wolf-woman" and collapsed into the passenger seat. We arrived at the Navy hospital where once again I made every attempt to "walk" into the ER where there was only one seat available. I tried to sit only to completely loose my ability to keep any form and slipped out onto the floor. ER personnel collected me. Evidentially, I qualified for "head of the line privileges" over the numerous patient with "colds" common in Navy hospital ERs.

I can recall hearing people talk to me. I can remember the frustrations trying to answer them or move any extremity. I can remember the clenching of my teeth. And I can remember the nurses describing amongst themselves the process of drilling into the skull to removed pressure. I freaked, and couldn't do anything about it. They hired an ambulance to transport me to the civilian trauma center. The last things I recall was trying to tell the EMT my address and insurance company. He realized after writing 10 consecutive numbers, I probably hadn't a clue of my address and Red Cross was probably not my health insurance company. My last memory was hearing the doctor yell for me to stay with her and to breath.

I awoke in the trauma center around mid-night feeling fully alert, I thought. I demanded to go home and was denied. I argued and was told I could go home if I could walk out the door. I raised myself and put my feet on the floor. When I lifted myself to stand, I fell completely over. I was very confused and frustrated. I resigned myself to having to stay. My husband had to leave to get to his Navy job. I felt very abandoned.

I spent 5 days in the stroke ward of the hospital. I can remember being told by the trauma center personnel that I was suppose to make sure the nursing personnel only administered the "dilantin" every four hours via IV push. Any more than that would endanger my life. I also remember trying to answer the questions related to the whereabouts of my wedding ring, clothing, etc. by someone in admitting. I can recall not having a clue, not verbalizing such either and seeing the attendant write "indigent" on my property form and ask me if they just found me naked on the streets of Seattle. Ouch. The Navy hadn't forwarded much information nor told anyone my possessions had been taken at the previous hospital.

In any regard, it was a long first nite. I could do nothing but let tears fall. I watched as the nurses decided to give me all the dilantin at once, as they didn't want to come back in one more time. I remember thinking, "They just killed me!" and tears feel even harder. I couldn't say anything and can recall one nurse telling me to stopped the darn tears. I laid there listening to the sounds of woman with strokes, wrenching, choking when being feed by tubes, crying, moaning. It was a very, very long night for me.

The next day began the rest of my new life. That night, the old me died. The first few years that followed are only a blur. I had to quite my job and I stayed home for two years. I had seizures nightly, I was partially paralyzed on my right side, I deweled, I lost I5 IQ points which meant something back then. I changed. I became very passive. I couldn't answer my husbands questions as I once did. I couldn't remember what day it was, every...it was still November and boy did I feel good when November did role around. I have since realized I forgot most of my childhood.

The best of what I discovered was my children thought I had become the best mom every. I always said ok. Without question I accepted their "Don't you remember Mom? I told you's..". No one told my husband nor I that any personally changed occur with brain injuries so we attempted to return to life as it once was.

We were not successful. Year after year he was frustrated with me, sensing I was always hiding something (what he and I both didn't realize, I was hiding the new me). He thought my forgetfulness was intentional. He felt rejected when I had to spend so much time working on reports, whatever, for my job at home, sometimes all night, just to get them done. I spent 13 years forcing myself to try and prove I was who I once was, quick, bright, a business wise, etc. that nothing had impaired me.

My marriage ended 4 years ago. At the same time, one of my friends was involved in a car accident and incurred a brain injury. As I talked to him about his emotions and frustration, I found mine surfacing. All those feelings I had never been allowed to deal with. It was overwhelming. At the invitation of a TBI support group my friend formed, I began to attend to represent to them, it doesn't go away. You don't return to your old self, you will have challenges, you have to make changes, adjust. Funny, I acted that role well too. Until they began to show me, emotionally I was not much further then my group members who had experience their TBI's only a year before.

In the three years I have been going to our TBI group, I have learned many things about how to accept I can still do what I used to do, however, it takes me much longer. I have learned to accept my TBI, my limitations and to replace a ego, with a healthy self-esteem. I now am a executive vice president for a trade association. With a very small but wonderful staff and volunteers we produce home and garden shows, parade of homes and I manage the company, it's programs and lobby as well. All my board members accept the challenges I have, they know to watch for the blank looks when I don't understand, and when I am overwhelmed. I have the liberty to take off as many days as I need to recoup, or an afternoon to go fishing or whatever to keep me mentally alert.

I am very fortunate to have found a support group and a job with people wanting to learn and accept TBI. Where once I was a mathematician extraordinary, I am now a very creative thinker and problem solver. What I may have mentally lost, I have replaced with skills which seem to come from my heart.

My message to all of use, keep the faith, keep the faith. There are those wanting to learn and accept you as you now are. And what is even more wonderful they appreciate your new gifts by rewarding you with love.

Pamela G. Watkins
Central Oregon