on April 27, 2012
Hello all, my name Richard and a traumatic braing injury survivor.
In October 2003, I was cleaning the gutters on my house. The ladder slipped and down I went, hitting my head on the driveway’s concrete slap. Fortunately my daughter who saw it happen, ran over, saw that I was bleeding and unconscious and called 911.
I was admitted and spent the first month in Hennepin County Medical Center (HCMC) in Minneapolis, where I was placed into a medically induced coma, had numerous surgeries, including a craniotomy to relieve swelling in my brain, sessions in the hyperbaric chamber, and multiple MRI’s. During the following two months I was in two different hospitals to help me “wake up” from my coma which meant cognitive, speech, physical and occupational therapy two times a day on a daily basis.
I was sent home in January 2004 and started speech and occupational therapy at Courage Center (Golden Valley) as an out-patient. In February 2004, I went back to HCMC for my last surgery where the doctors placed the bone back on my skull. I continued at Courage Center until October 2004 when I was able to start working my “pre-injury” job full-time again. It’s not exactly the same job as before, but close enough and it pays the bills. I also had a “second” job as an photography instructor but I’m unable too.
My friends & family live a “regular” fast life, but I do not. Allowing my children and wife live a regular life means I have to let them, and that is the hardest thing to do. But I have too. It’s my injury not theirs. Watching my kids come home, saying Hi Dad, bashing up to their room, changing clothes, bashing out of the house without even a “see ya later Dad” can almost break my heart. My wife has a full-time job and maybe needs to stop after work to buy something we need; maybe needs to go somewhere else after dinner; maybe go shopping for fun or with her friends and who knows what else. Can I give my kids and wife grief for not being with me? No, no, no I can not. They know I love them, I know they love me, and together we know that family is the most important thing in our world.
Because I don’t show any “physical” affects, most people (who knew me before) think I have made a 100% recovery, but they are wrong. My main issue, so to speak, is speech or language. I have what is called aphasia, meaning it’s very easy for me to miss words or use the wrong words that I want to say or think I’m saying. It also means that at times, I cannot understand what other people are saying, especially if I’m in a loud room or when many people are talking at the same time. My family, friends and co-workers know that can happen, and when it does and I ask them to repeat themselves, it’s my aphasia acting up, not me. To try not to have that happen, I know I need to listen carefully and be as close to that person as possible and even read lips. I had to stop my second job as an photography instructor because intructors need to talk to & listen to students and that’s very hard for me. I miss that job & working with the public but photography is still my art and that’s all that really matters.
So, instead of thinking “what will be” or “what was”, I think “be here now”. I refuse to think about the “old me” instead I believe in the “new me” to allow my healing and recovery process to continue. I let myself be aware of myself so I can live my life as fully as possible; I volunteer for a local TBI support group; I inform the general public about traumatic brain injuries and the recovery process in every meeting I’m able to get to or invited to speak at; I will insure that TBI is not called the “invisible/hidden” injury anymore; I will be a voice.
In October 2003, I was cleaning the gutters on my house. The ladder slipped and down I went, hitting my head on the driveway’s concrete slap. Fortunately my daughter who saw it happen, ran over, saw that I was bleeding and unconscious and called 911.
I was admitted and spent the first month in Hennepin County Medical Center (HCMC) in Minneapolis, where I was placed into a medically induced coma, had numerous surgeries, including a craniotomy to relieve swelling in my brain, sessions in the hyperbaric chamber, and multiple MRI’s. During the following two months I was in two different hospitals to help me “wake up” from my coma which meant cognitive, speech, physical and occupational therapy two times a day on a daily basis.
I was sent home in January 2004 and started speech and occupational therapy at Courage Center (Golden Valley) as an out-patient. In February 2004, I went back to HCMC for my last surgery where the doctors placed the bone back on my skull. I continued at Courage Center until October 2004 when I was able to start working my “pre-injury” job full-time again. It’s not exactly the same job as before, but close enough and it pays the bills. I also had a “second” job as an photography instructor but I’m unable too.
My friends & family live a “regular” fast life, but I do not. Allowing my children and wife live a regular life means I have to let them, and that is the hardest thing to do. But I have too. It’s my injury not theirs. Watching my kids come home, saying Hi Dad, bashing up to their room, changing clothes, bashing out of the house without even a “see ya later Dad” can almost break my heart. My wife has a full-time job and maybe needs to stop after work to buy something we need; maybe needs to go somewhere else after dinner; maybe go shopping for fun or with her friends and who knows what else. Can I give my kids and wife grief for not being with me? No, no, no I can not. They know I love them, I know they love me, and together we know that family is the most important thing in our world.
Because I don’t show any “physical” affects, most people (who knew me before) think I have made a 100% recovery, but they are wrong. My main issue, so to speak, is speech or language. I have what is called aphasia, meaning it’s very easy for me to miss words or use the wrong words that I want to say or think I’m saying. It also means that at times, I cannot understand what other people are saying, especially if I’m in a loud room or when many people are talking at the same time. My family, friends and co-workers know that can happen, and when it does and I ask them to repeat themselves, it’s my aphasia acting up, not me. To try not to have that happen, I know I need to listen carefully and be as close to that person as possible and even read lips. I had to stop my second job as an photography instructor because intructors need to talk to & listen to students and that’s very hard for me. I miss that job & working with the public but photography is still my art and that’s all that really matters.
So, instead of thinking “what will be” or “what was”, I think “be here now”. I refuse to think about the “old me” instead I believe in the “new me” to allow my healing and recovery process to continue. I let myself be aware of myself so I can live my life as fully as possible; I volunteer for a local TBI support group; I inform the general public about traumatic brain injuries and the recovery process in every meeting I’m able to get to or invited to speak at; I will insure that TBI is not called the “invisible/hidden” injury anymore; I will be a voice.
Posted in: My Journal
