A Place to Share

Anyway, I was hit from behind by a man who, when the police caught him about ten minutes and several miles later, was found to have a blood alcohol content of .023 %, which is almost three times the legal limit in California.

Well, I went into a month long coma shortly after I was hit due to swelling of the brain or brain fluid or something like that. The doctors has me listed as critical for three or for days and in ICU for a few weeks, I think. I'm not sure really how long I was in ICU before I was moved to critical care. I was in the hospital till January 29, 1993.

When the car struck the rear of the bicycle I apparently flew off it and struck the cars passenger side of the windshield with my back cracking the glass. My head went back and struck the top of the car roof. The force of the impact broke my helmet into three pieces and it "held "together by the nylon mesh/netting it was in. I flew off in a forward direction and--this I'm not quite sure on--either struck a fire hydrant or the sidewalk with my forehead. I was told by a friend who said he was told by a friend of his, who saw this from a bus stop across the street, that I got up and cursed and kicked the fire hydrant and, shortly after, collapsed. I'm also told I spoke with the police and or EMTs who arrived before I totally went out.

My family/friends were told, basically, to not be too optimistic. First, I would probably not survive. Then, I would probably not regain consciousness. When, a month later, I did they were told I would probably remain vegetative for the remainder of my life. When I began to begin the process of communication, they were told I'd probably remain non-ambulatory. When I began to learn how to walk again they were told I'd probably never be able to care for myself again. I'm able to, and I do all of these things. I'm going to a local jr. college to try to learn a new job skill. I ride a bicycle around town almost exclusively. Well, that and the bus! And something here called Lift Line. It, as a result of the ADA, is our local paratransit provider and I'm able to get rides for medical, and other needs, if I schedule at least a day in advance and they are not booked up yet.

The fact that I made, and continue to make, progress that my doctors warned my family not to expect doesn't speak highly of me OR lowly of them. The doctors, not knowing yet how severe my brain damage was didn't try to buoy my family with false or unrealistic expectations. They didn't know, and they couldn't, they were willing to be honest and prepare them for the worst. I really commend the care and attention my family and I received.

So, after all was said and done the physical, real, consequences of my TBI were speech, balance, memory, and cognition. All were severely affected and are still, slowly, improving. It was, and still is, a hard row to hoe but its the hand I was dealt and I have no choice but to try to make the best of it. I mean, I could fold I suppose, but I'd either be out of the game forever with no chance of getting back in (suicide) or I'd be sitting on the sidelines wishing I'd been dealt a different hand and moaning my bad luck.

I have improved, in all areas, and feel it's not over with yet. The biggest reason is, I believe, is I have always shown up for the therapies made available to me. ALWAYS. It's a struggle to face my day a lot of the time but I've seen significant progress and continue to feel it's not over with. It's also true that the progress has gotten much slower and it takes more time before I can see changes, but I still see them and have no reason to believe it will stop in the near future.

For example, I could not stand up by myself without falling over. I could not walk down three stairs by myself because I'd start to fall. My physical therapists had the idea of getting me back on my bicycle and they would strap two leather "leashes" on my waist and walk me while I was on my bicycle. Today, I'll ride up to 25 miles around town going to class, riding for exercise, and errands.

The same, but not as dramatic, with my speech. When I first began talking again it was very hard to understand me. I sounded like I was talking and gargled at the same time. My enunciation and diction was very poor. I avoided talking in public, to people I didn't know, as much as possible. There was a lot of poor self-image issues going on, too be sure but like I mentioned earlier going to every therapy session--for every therapy available-- has made a big difference in my recovery. All I know is I had no real idea how to approach the new me and I had to trust the therapists. I believed it couldn't make it any worse and might make it better. What did I have to lose?