Being in Charge of My Own Rehab

     Early on in the days after my accident, I found the tbi chatroom.  It was a sanctuary for me where I could communicate with other survivors.  I learned stuff about how to cope with my brain damage and how to get on with life.  One of the best things I learned there was that I have to be in charge of my own rehab.

     I got no official cognitive treatment for my brain injury.  I was in the chatroom one night bemoaning my fate when someone spoke up and told me this: You have to be in charge of your own rehab.

               You have to be in charge of your own rehab.

     This simple truism frightened me.  With trepidation, I slowly experimented with being in charge of my own rehab.  What did that mean for me?

     Being in charge of my own rehab meant that I had to find the people who were willing to steer me towards things I could do on my own to exercise my brain.  Someone in the chatroom recommended playing brain games on the computer designed for kids.  I did.  Someone else talked about an e-group on Yahoo for survivors.  I did that too-- until I got kicked out for refusing to change my email-- and that was how I re-learned how to write sentences that made sense to others.  A third suggested a specific puzzle game.  I went out and bought that. 

     I learned how to carry a notebook and a schedule, how to research information and evaluate it, how to replace my a-motivational problems with motor-vation.  I exercised.  I fought with my natural tendency to consume way too much sugar-- something I still wrestle with now-- and forced myself to rest when I was fatigued.  I learned that I needed to find a balance between rest and challenging myself to do something new or hard or strenuous.  I joined a couple of t.b.i. support groups.  I consented to the use of a cane for long walks and in the winter.  I fell.  I got up.  My balance improved and I fell less often.  I understood that the professionals who said, "No major improvement after the first year" or "We can't fix this" were well-intentioned but wrong.

     I am not the same person that I used to be before my accident.  I would have been better off in many ways had it never happened.  But it did happen.  I have to deal with reality rather than a world of make-believe.  My brain is not as effective as it used to be.  Aphasia to a writer is a special form of hell.  And yet, I continue to improve.  I keep striving.

     Ten years out and I am still working my brain.  I am still being in charge of my own rehab.  I hope that you are also in charge of your own rehab regardless of how much or how little t.b.i.-specific treatment you are getting or not getting and regardless of what the well-meaning helpers say about your limitations.

sapphoq healing t.b.i. says:  It takes courage to dream new dreams.