Yesterday, January 5, 2018 marked one year since my accident. This day was monumental in so many ways and something I thought was so out of reach. Yet, when I told people it was my one-year anniversary, many said “That went fast!” or “Already? Wow!” Hardly how I would describe the year which I have termed “My Lost Year”. I lost so much so quickly. I lost my mind. Literally. I spent three and a half months working on getting my “mind” back. I lost my balance and spent five months in therapy and the rest of the year continuing to regain my balance. When I’m fatigued or under a lot of additional stress, I still wobble like a Weeble but fortunately like Weebles, I don’t fall down (often).
I lost my vision and spent five months doing exercises, wearing contacts, or tape on my glasses to help my eyes with focusing. I lost my ability to work. I was catatonic for 10 weeks and it took me six months to begin my first attempt at returning to my craft but really I’m still adjusting to using my brain in a work environment. My output is still excellent but my bandwidth is weak.
Since I wasn’t able to work, I did not renew my beloved Cherry Creek apartment and I lost my favorite apartment and home. After choosing a new roommate who ultimately turned out to be very unstable from her own TBI, I bounced around for seven months with friends until I finally was able to secure an apartment of my own for independent living which I desperately needed for continued healing. I had plateaued and the stress of my living situation was too great for healing and was actually causing setbacks.
I lost my ability to earn income and my business partner left me high and dry when I needed the support of a business partner the most.
Of all the things I lost, the one thing I missed the most was my lost personality. For at least two months, I couldn’t even socialize with anyone because I was in so much pain and any noise at all hurt tremendously. I lost time with my friends. I felt like I a zombie most of the time. Post-concussion syndrome along with other TBIs, causes depression. I learned to distinguish the difference between concussion-related depression and depression related to missing my exuberant personality and social life. On the worst days when depression gripped my outlook, I simply went to bed with the anticipation that “tomorrow is a new day”. I seldom had two horrible days in a row — and I mean horrible depression days because I had three months of back-to-back horrible days with a few good days sprinkled in.
I missed my intelligence. My cognitive therapist told me after my initial tests resulted in higher than average scores for a non-brain injured person that I did not lose my intelligence – I just lost my wiring and pathways and I had to retrain them. Still, having been so accustomed to everything being easy for me in the learning department, I was struggling to do simple tasks and never being one for being easily distracted, I now forgot what I was doing in the middle of a task. I always knew I was really smart, but now I felt stupid.
I had to re-learn everything. I had to practice walking three times a day down my hallway so I could catch myself if I fell. I had to do puzzles with sunglasses on, noise-cancelling earbuds in, visor on, while riding an exercise bike so I could retrain my brain to pedal with my feet at a constant speed while using my cognitive functions to solve puzzles.
I lost so much in 2017 but that’s only one perspective as I gained a lot too. There were many bright spots and many people who stepped up to help me make it less painful when the ones I thought would help the most failed to show up at all.
Patience has been my karmic lesson for many years and I learned a great deal more about being patient in 2017—which is extremely difficult for brain-injured persons because the injury often alters the mood of the person. I was fortunate that I was not affected in that way with severe mood swings and I attributed that to my natural optimistic disposition when I reported to my neurologist/concussion specialist.
Yesterday wasn’t just a one-year marker in my recovery but a couple of things transpired yesterday on the anniversary that are significant. First, I received word that I secured a part-time contract consulting position for a start-up company. Every day I diligently worked on my physical, occupational, and cognitive therapies in an effort to #ReclaimMyLife, which is the mantra I adopted early in my injury. I did not want to have the zombie living standard. I wanted my life back and I focused intently on that. There were supporters who encouraged and nurtured me and there were unfortunately a few people who brought me stress. I had to walk away from them and losing relationships especially close ones, even family, when you’re injured and really need the help is extremely sad, difficult, and painful.
Then, after the close of the day, I learned I won the FitBit Workweek Hustle contest. It may not sound significant to many, but to me, it’s huge. First of all I’m grateful the reigning champ my pal Shirley took a vacation so that helped but I did finish the week with 79,134 steps—9000 steps more than Shirley in second place and 16,000 more steps than the third place finisher. I had never won before and thought it was incredible that my first win came on the one-year anniversary of my injury. It’s hard to believe sometimes how far I’ve come. I couldn’t walk without tripping or falling and without extreme nausea and dizziness thanks to the vestibular damage in the brain. I remember when I had to start walking 50-minutes at a time outside and there were days I was so tired that my legs would start to move like I had cerebral palsy and would barely make it back safely to my apartment. Winning a FitBit Workweek Hustle is really a big feather in my cap!
