Brain News

http://www.duluthnewstribune.com/news/health/3689603-duluth-man-chronicles-his-struggles-traumatic-brain-injury-caused-childhood

Brad Dearth was in a car accident at the age of seven. He was not expected to survive but he did. He had a difficult time for many years but then relocated to Duluth, Minnesota from Ohio. In Duluth, he received the support that he needed. He speaks to classes of nursing students about his experiences. Dearth has a self-published book due out on Monday.

Best wishes to Brad Dearth! Don't ever give up on yourself.


http://www.tampabay.com/opinion/columns/spoto-community-rallies-behind-girl-who-suffered-traumatic-brain-injury/2219092

Tyra Janelle Brown, a high school senior in Spoto [Florida], suffered a traumatic brain injury during a freak accident on an expressway. She is currently being treated in Atlanta. Her mother is by her side.

Students in Tyra's school have rallied together to support Tyra in her struggles. They have been planning and participating in a multitude of fund-raisers.

A shout-out to the students and others who are helping Tyra and her family during this difficult time! Best wishes, Tyra! Remember that it takes courage to dream new dreams.


http://news.psu.edu/story/346485/2015/02/26/academics/ist-student-entreprenuer-pursues-passions-despite-brain-injury

Krista Krebs does not allow her brain injury to dictate how she lives her life. She was injured as a senior in high school She is currently a student at Penn State and determined to graduate in 2010. In spite of physical pain and complications from her t.b.i., she is thriving at school in her chosen field.

Best wishes, Tyra! Keep on keeping on.


http://jama.jamanetwork.com/article.aspx?articleid=2130313

Repeated clinical trials have demonstrated that progesterone has no effect on outcomes or reduced mortality when used to treat patients with traumatic brain injuries.

Although this sounds like discouraging news, we need solid medical research that demonstrates what doesn't work as well as what does work.

A shout-out to JAMA and other scientific peer-review journals!


sapphoq healing brain damage says: Life does not have to grind to a halt after a traumatic brain injury. Regardless of any personal difficulties or degree of disability, it is possible to have a productive and meaningful life.

I have self-published two e-books. They are currently only available at Barnes & Noble. You can check them out here:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/SpikedUp-Frog?store=allproducts&keyword=SpikedUp+Frog

The books-- one pretty cool novel and one about being in x.a. recovery as an atheist-- are e-pubs without any D.M.C.A. crap applied. Those who buy them are free to use python scripts or other conversion tools [like Calibre or Epubor Ultimate] in order to be able to read them across their devices. The books are published under a creative commons license.

I have also learned to take halfway decent photos with my cheap digital camera and a cheap cellphone. I enjoy altering them as I see fit. Here is one of them:

It's mine. I made it myself. I took the photo with my cellphone on a snowy day in the woods and then added the words using my legally obtained copy of PaintShopPro 10. Go away copyright trolls. You are not welcome here ever. Period.
The rest of you are free to download and save it to your computer and to upload it to any social media site on the web of your choosing. Or not.

Follow me on Twitter(tm) if you want to. 
https://twitter.com/SpikedUpFrog

Brain Drain

Yeah, I took the photograph and then altered it using my legally obtained copy of digital art software. Yeah, you can download it to your computer and use it at will on the interwebz. No, link back is not required.
And if you are a copyright monopolist, you ought to go away now.

     Yesterday, I had an achy head. Not exactly a headache-- ever since the blocks put into my skull, I rarely get full-blown headaches or migraines-- but something that hurt. Sometimes I will take an over the counter medicine for this and sometimes I won't.

     Challenge and rest are both important when dealing with the damaged brain. I have to challenge myself enough so that the brain can improve. I also have to rest enough so that the brain can improve. Managing a balance between rest and action is tricky.

     I felt it yesterday. The physical achy in the brain coupled with the idea that I was experiencing the beginnings of "information overload." Crap. I was busy and I did not want to slow down.

     I had to slow down. I had to drag myself from my reading (the cause of the info overload) and force myself to do something else less taxing. I had to take a rest.

     Often it is a physical rest that I require. Once in awhile, it is more that I need a change of scene coupled with a change to a less challenging activity. Yesterday, I needed the latter. I went out with my housemate for a bit. I felt better.

     The rest of the day, I monitored myself. I usually nap in the afternoon for an hour. Yesterday was no exception. The achy head stayed gone. I was happy about that.

         ~ sapphoq healing brain damage, but not completely ~

The Plural of Moose is "Meese"

     I first started experimenting with making tags and e-stationary because Jeremy Crow introduced me to it sometime after my motor vehicle accident and subsequent diagnosis of traumatic brain injury. I like taking pictures and I like making backgrounds in particular. 
     
     Hobbies are good things to have. They force our brains to solve problems and give us pleasure. Have you picked up any new hobbies since your brain injury?

     I took the picture of the moose, and a picture of the lawn [used in the background] and altered them on my legally obtained digital photography software. I added the words. If you want any of them, please right-click and save to your "My Computer." Enjoy. You can use them on the Internet at will.

Eat more beef.

      A friend went hunting and bagged a moose. He made moose stew and it was delicious.

FAIL.

FAIL moose.

      Here I was thinking of the FAIL boat pictures. I like the FAIL moose.

Hey There.

I like BIG bucks.

      Flirting can be fun.

Like a BOSS.

      I'm a Duck Dynasty fan. I think I've heard this saying on there.

NO.

      If we never say "no," then our "yes" ceases to mean anything.

Thanks, Cupcake.

      I picked up "Thanks, Cupcake" from Todd Kincannon. For situations when "no" just isn't enough.

WHATEVER.

     I remember being a teen and living in "whatever" mode.

If It's Worth Having, Then It's Worth Working For

     Out of all of the professionals and specialists that I've dealt with in respect to my traumatic brain injury, there was a grand total of one-- and only one-- who told me that I was capable of learning how to control my impulses and harness my dis-inhibitions. Let me explain further:

     Go to any brain injury unit and you are likely to find patients who curse fluently. I'm not claiming pre-injury innocence. What I'm saying is that cursing originates from the more primitive, reptilian part of the brain located deeper in than language is. Hurt a brain, you will probably hurt communication but the cursing may remain more fluent than language skills for a time.

     I was talking with a friend who is eighteen months away from his stroke. He told me that he was having trouble with just blurting things out. He was astonished when I said that he could learn to govern that. Blurting things out and cursing both have a similar emotional component to them, to my way of thinking. 

     I also had experienced those sorts of demands from my fractured brain. I learned that when I was feeling a pressure to "Say it, just say it!" that was when I almost certainly should not "Just say it." And the cursing thing? I found out that it was easier for me to strive not to curse at all than it was for me to give myself permission to curse at some times and not at others. Learning not to insert the f-bomb into every other sentence and learning not to blurt things out were two things that helped me feel some semblance of control during a time when the world was still wobbly and rotating slowly to my left.

     Was it difficult and challenging to develop some self-discipline? Yup. But I worked on it and I continue to work on that because I have found the results to be rewarding. Not feeling driven to tell my very proper mother-in-law filthy jokes over dinner in a restaurant made the meal go better. I was happier being able to blend in a bit. And m.i.l. certainly was happier too.

     Do I curse now? Yup. A lot less than post-injury and less than my pre-injury days too.

     Self-discipline is something that I found to be worth working for. I tell myself daily, "Get up, clean up, walk the dog, go to the gym. Your brain damage is not an acceptable excuse for your laziness." And so I get up, clean up, walk the dog, and go to the gym. I still have to rest during the day however I am getting stuff done now. And that feels good to me.

     There are bunches of stuff that is no longer automatic for me. I have to think through some tasks before I am able to do them. I have to concentrate on where my feet are going as I walk so I don't fall. I have to have things put away in the same places today so that I can find them again tomorrow. Supplies for cleaning the floors go on one shelf on the back porch. The laundry bag lives next to the washing machine. The stationary, bills, check book, stamps, and pens are kept in the desk. I still struggle with organizing today but not as much as I used to. I can get more done because I am not stumbling around the house in a blind rage unable to find the vacuum cleaner bags.

 sapphoq healing t.b.i. says:

If It's Worth Having, Then It's Worth Working For.

If It's Worth Having, Then It's Worth Working For.

If It's Worth Having, Then It's Worth Working For.

Poison Ivy

     I've been a hiker and backpacker for a number of years, both before and after the scrambling of my brain that occurred during my motor vehicle accident. My brain's name is Briella-- still brilliant but a bit sideways. Vision begins in the brain. Besides having double vision in one eye and now having face blindness [I would say "suffering from" only I don't feel like I am suffering from anything], I am apparently no longer able to recognize poison ivy.

     Most fortunately, some years ago I had a flat-coated retriever who was absolutely nuts about the stuff. Dogs are generally not allergic to poison ivy. He used to roll in it, dig it up, toss it around, eat it. Then I would break out in that certain rash. The first summer with him, I had poison ivy six times. I figure that dog is the reason why I have very mild reactions to the leaves of three now.

     I've been weeding in the garden. During the first few years of living with my t.b.i., I purchased several berry bushes and planted them. I don't remember what kind of berry bushes they were. This is a problem now. I do have a rather prolific vine thing growing in the plot where I plopped the berry bushes. It is currently full of white flowers. When I walk by it, I feel little itches on my skin. [There is a particular weed in my garden too that causes the little itches but which I know is not poison ivy]. I go inside and I scrub my arms and hands and then that's the end of it. 

     I've never eaten the berries off of the prolific vine because I cannot tell if the thing is a version of poison ivy or if it is some kind of raspberry or something. This week, I will hunt through my plant identification books in hopes of figuring out what the vine actually is. If is it poison ivy, I suppose I will put on long pants and a long shirt and thick gloves and yank the stuff out. If not, then I will probably want to sample the berries this year. And I will also have to investigate the berry plot. Maybe there are berry bushes growing in there and maybe the bushes died.

sapphoq healing tbi says: Now that I have some distance from my car accident, I suspect that the changes in my personality and my neurological functioning bother other people a great deal more than they bother me. I don't feel like a victim. I keep striving.
     Most days I can say with some confidence this: It's good to be alive yo!

Even Better

     The bird was hanging upside down from the feeder. He was almost frozen. He was not a happy bird. He was having a bad day-- no, not a bad moment-- a bad day. The weather had been miserably cold for a week. I found him there, removed him, and took him inside to warm him up. I set him free outside and he sang hosannas of gratitude.

     No. That's not how it happened. I saw him there upside down, his feet frozen to a metal part of the underside of the bird feeder. I wasn't sure if he was dead or alive or in torpor or what. After some hesitation, I wrapped him in a yellow towel and took him inside. He made no noise whatsoever. His legs were messed up and at odd angles. If he was dead, it would have been a mercy.

     I warmed him up by the radiator on the off-chance that he could be saved. The kitten came up and inspected him.

     I put the bird still wrapped in the yellow towel in a basket in a tree in the sun. He was not there the next morning. I figured that either he had flown away or that a desperate hungry hawk or something ate him. He was back in the thick of nature however it went.

    The fiction that I had definitely saved the little bird is preferable to what actually happened. We don't like messy endings in general. We don't like to read about little birds that might be dead or might have been eaten by a bigger bird. We want everything as it was before or even better than before.

     But life is not like that. Mother Nature is a real Muther. Nature is cruel and stalking and predatory. Nature does not give one whit about any of our wishes, desires, or dreams. Life happens and death happens. Those who are born do not in any way make up for those who die. Oh perhaps in population statistics but not in any other way.

     Even if the bird flew out of the basket, his life was not the same or even better as it had been before. His legs were injured. Even if they healed up, they were not "good as new." Even if he lived, he certainly was hobbled by his experiences.


sapphoq healing tbi says: Some well-meaning people want us to be like we were before whatever happened to each one of us that left us with damaged brains. They gush at us "Oh isn't it wonderful that the brain rewires itself?" We are beyond their gushing. We know that we are beyond magical yoga retreats and fish oil and stupid talk of brains putting themselves back together again "even better" than before.
     Think before you open your mouth to impart some fake cure or false hope. Chances are, we don't want to hear those lies. Tell us to keep working at those things that we are re-learning. Tell us that each of us has to be in charge of our own rehab. Tell us that our lives are different. Tell us that life is neither fair nor unfair. Life is sacred and nothing is promised to us. 

     No, I am not "better off" than I was before the day that my life changed forever. No, brains do not rewire themselves to be exactly the way they used to be. Yes, I certainly do have a life today. This is not the life that I signed up for but it is mine. I keep striving to work around my deficits. I keep challenging my brain. I keep doing the things that I learned that I must do for myself in order to have some kind of a life. It is easy to sit around and mope because I have brain damage now. It is better to force myself to participate in my life. It is even better to work for what I consider to be worth working for. And having a life-- even if it is a different life now-- is certainly worth working for.  

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.   

  

Inhibiting Those Disinhibitions

Before the brain injury, yes I cursed.  I was fluent in cursing in more than one language.  I was good at it.

After the brain injury I still cursed.  I remembered curse words in several languages.  I was even better at it.

Cursing derives from a primitive part of the brain called the prefrontal cortex.  If the prefrontal cortex gets damaged, our inhibitions loosen and we may find that cursing [which is much more a motor and emotional activity than language is] comes easier to us than words.  During the weeks immediately following my brain injury, every other sentence contained at least one curse.  This was true during ordinary activities and not just when I was emotionally aroused.

I learned how to mitigate my cursing.  I discovered that endeavoring not to curse at all was easier than attempting to limit cursing to certain situations.  After a time, I was able to restrict my use of curse words.  Today, I curse very little.  The curses flow when I am very angry.  When I am angry, I monitor my use of curse words.  Sometimes I have to remove myself from the audience and go off somewhere on my own in order to calm down.  I do consciously decide to curse occasionally to add emphasis to something I am talking about.

Meaningful language derives from the Wernicke's Area of the brain.  The limbic system is not involved in everyday communication tasks.  Wernicke's is part of the cortex-- not the pre-frontal cortex-- and thus language and its' interpretation is considered to be a more advanced function than cursing is. 

There are other people on and off the web that can explain the mechanisms behind both cursing and the development of language than I can.  The point is that I had to choose to learn to modify my disinhibited behavior [cursing] in order to regain some control over my life post-injury. 

sapphoq healing brain damage says:  If I had to choose a disinhibition, I think cursing is milder than something like taking one's clothes off in public or setting small fires. 

The Cane

Most of the time, the cane stands by the chair in a corner.  It is there for when I perceive that I need it.  I've come to suspect that I need it more than I am using it.

The cane was suggested to me as an alternative to a disabled parking permit.  I kept falling.  When I fall, I almost always fall to my right side.  I used the cane extensively at first. 

Summer came and with it my first pair of a certain kind of sandals.  Those sandals did wonders for me.  The first pair lasted me five years.  I went cross-country with them by myself for three weeks.  I was still falling with them, but less. 

Time passes.  I got a second pair of those sandals.  I used the cane less.  The dog keeps me upright when we walk together.  I don't fall with her now.

A friend of mine saw me walking one day.  "Where's the cane?" he asked.  He snorted when I informed him that I was walking 'fine' without it.  "What does the doctor say?" he asked.  I growled at him.

I've gone back to using the cane for walking any distance when the dog is home.  It helps.  The cane helps me judge where the ground is.  I am steadier with it than without. 

And I am good with that.

sapphoq healing traumatic brain injury

Broken Things

We are broken things, carefully guarded from
breaking even more or at least from telling
the rest of the world about us.  We shout out
to anyone who will listen.  We don't give a damn
for societal expectations any longer.  We show up
at doctors' offices in our pajamas, curse loudly
in public, eat with a fork in one hand or the other
as we choose to.  We are loudly broken, irritating
things clanging noisily in the wind without shame.
We no longer give a damn about what you think.

We are broken things, carefully guarded from
the rest of the world.  We have no shame at all.
We are loudly broken and irritating to a society
which expects us to shut up, not be heard, go away.
We clatter and clang noisily about-- laughing a bit
too shrilly, cursing too boldly at nothing at everything--
and we don't give a damn what you think about us.
We don't even regard what the doctors say in their
irritation while the good nurses wait at their sides
to write down every sainted word.  We are broken.  

We are broken things, carefully guarded from
anyone who will listen.  We are shrill and shameless
and irritating in our too loud pajamas and bold stares.
When we hurt, we yell and cry and stomp about
in our heavy dyke boots.  When we are happy,
our voices become piercing trumpets.  When we
are having sex, the world knows it.  We are apart
from the society which would just as soon forget us.
We are a part of a society that shuns us.  We are
broken, we are different, we are and remain just us.    


~ sapphoq healing tbi

You Say

You say you want to help me.  You're going to help me.  Your platitudes are designed to stifle me, to shut me up, to mollify me.  I am not fooled.  I have brain damage.  I am not brain dead.  Not yet.  Not today.

You say you get it.  You get me.  You've gotten other people like me.  Your attitudes are designed to impress me, to shut me up, to resurrect me.  I am not fooled.  I have brain damage.  I am not brain dead.  Not yet.  Not today.

You say here, let's do this.  This will work.  It's worked for others.  Your crapitudes are designed to motivate me, to shut me up, to robotize me.  I am not fooled.  I have brain damage.  I am not brain dead.  Not yet.  Not today.

I say if you aren't going to help me, then get out of my way.  You haven't helped me.  Your words are empty, meaningless, dull things.  I was never fooled.  I have brain damage.  I am not brain dead.  Not yet.  Not today.

sapphoq healing t.b.i. and leaving a lot of stupidity behind    

The Eyes [May] Have It

I was heartened today to see one tiny article about the possibility that visual difficulties may aid in the accurate diagnosis of traumatic brain injuries in veterans who continue having troublesome symptoms after sustaining a blast.  Psychiatrist Elaine Peskind noted that the vets she tested had irregular movements of their eyeballs.  Neuro-Optomologist Randy Kardon demonstrated that the vets exposed to blasts had retinal cells that were thinner than expected and also had developed photo-sensitivity.  [ article located here at: http://www.turnto23.com/lifestyle/health/eyes-may-provide-new-insight-into-brain-problems-including-tbi-in-soldiers ]

I've known about tbi-related eye problems because I have them.  I was diagnosed with true photophobia, ocular-motor dysfunction, and dyplopia in one eye.  The external vertigo that I experience on a daily basis [the room spins to the left] with occasional temporary upswings  is responsible for my latest back injuries which have landed me back in physical therapy.  Nystagmus, I have it now.  I did not have it pre-injury.  Misinterpretation of visual data in the brain has caused visual disturbances.  These are not frightening.  And dry eyes.  Because I no longer blink as much automatically as I used to.  Reading was not possible for me for longer than thirty minutes [and sometimes not possible after much less than thirty minutes] until the introduction of an e-reader.  It is not large print that I need.  My visual acuity is within the range of "doesn't need glasses while driving."  What I do need, and the e-reader provides for me, is more white space between words and the ability to adjust the light settings.

When hunting down the research into the use of various visual tests and measurements in the diagnosis of traumatic brain injury with our troops, the earliest reference I found was dated 2009.  This is the sort of thing that should have been reported on by the media much earlier than yesterday.  The research has implications for all of us who have sustained brain injuries from a variety of causes.

While I applaud the Veterans' Administration for the research being undertaken on behalf of soldiers who have suffered and who will continue to suffer blast injuries, it is my sincere hope that refinements to the diagnosis of a t.b.i. and delivery of services designed to address tbi-related visual difficulties does not become bogged down in the usual bureaucratic paperwork and a system which seeks to deny our vets services when at all possible.

sapphoq healing t.b.i.


Other references:

http://www.rehab.research.va.gov/jour/09/46/6/pdf/cockerham.pdf

http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2013/05/neurologist-markam-human-brain/

http://www.army.mil/article/74675/

http://www.lowvision.org/traumatic_brain_injury.htm

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/20104404

http://www.brainline.org/content/2010/02/vision-issues-after-brain-injury-brainline-talks-with-dr-gregory-goodrich_pageall.html

Discovery: New Region of the Brain

Some Indian company called Ceylon Support has located an entirely new and heretofore unnoticed region of the brain recently.  It was immediately dubbed, "Gullibus Uninterruptus."  The Gullibus Uninterruptus is located behind the frontal lobe and slightly to the right of the right temporal lobe.  Scientists say that we've missed it up until now because the region existed in the shadows of the executive part of the brain.

The function of Gullibus Uninterruptus is to separate the unlucky and the dumb from the herd of ever-evolving life on the planet.  This has some specific evolutionary advantages.  For one, it will put all telemarketing scams, Nigerian scams, and politicians out of work by the year 2099.  The year 3000 will bring on a new millenium of peaceful co-existence as humans merge more and more with their technological machinery.  Stuff that we find so essential to our lives today will be our lives by 3000.  Glory!

I received a test for Gullibus Uninterruptus the other day.  Ceylon Support has been interested in studying who in the population has active Gullibi Uninterrupti and who doesn't.  I am happy to report that the results of my test are in.  My Gullibus Uninterruptus-- although once active during the initial couple of years of recovery from brain damage-- is now happily and permanently retired.  Although it is reported that the Gullibus Uninterruptus can be activated again by periods of prolonged ignorance of evidence and/or denial of the same, it is highly unlikely that mine will be re-activated in this lifetime.  When the man from Ceylon Support found this to be my case, he was butthurt.  He had to reach his quota of 1000 people with developed Gullibi Uninterrupti in order to get paid his daily wage.

This is how things went during my test:

Hello, may I please speak to the madam of the house?

She's not here.

Oh, well I can talk with you.  I am from Ceylon Support and I understand that your computer has not been getting the Microsoft Updates.

[What followed was several minutes of me irritating the tester, claiming that I could not understand him].

Your computer has not been getting the Microsoft Updates.

Hold on there.  What.  Is.  My.  Name?

I can give you the registered name of my company and my phone number-- [speeding up his words considerably.  I've learned during my recovery from this t.b.i. thing that other people speeding up their words generally means they are trying to activate my Gullibus Uninterruptus].

Excuse me.  What.  Is.  My.  Name?

My registered--

Uh, no.  Not interested.  Good-bye.      


sapphoq healing t.b.i. 

Water-Logged

I was carrying a pail to the kitchen sink.  On the way, I dropped it.  It upended and I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning up.  Fortunately it was "only water."  The water was dirty but even so, there are worst things I could have dumped onto the floor.

Out came the paper towels, mop, more paper towels.  A mess.  The floor is now [finally] drying but the garbage can is full of sopping paper towels.  Three rolls of paper towels.  It was after all a lot of water.

Pre-accident, my brain was a bit sharper when the unexpected happened.  I would not have had to stop and think through my options.  Somehow, [I believe] my cleaning up would have been less haphazard, more efficient, quicker.  Still, I got the job done.  

Pre-accident, many actions were more automatic.  I have to think things through now.  Even simple things like where to put my feet when negotiating a corner require extra thinking steps.  I am a somewhat clumsier version of my old self with a few twists.  Briella, my post-injured brain, is still brilliant although a bit sideways.

I may not be able to do things in the same manner as I used to do them.  I am, however, still able to get the job done.  Today, that will have to be good enough.

sapphoq on healing t.b.i.

You Never Told Anyone

You never talked about it with any of the others.  You didn't tell them about my accident.  My broken brain.  That I was lucky to have walked away, to be alive, no longer working but functioning.  You never told them.  You left it for me to tell.  The awkward silences.  They hadn't even been told that I was in an accident.  Never mind that my career got smashed up along with the car.  Retired.  The junkyard.  Kaput.  What did you tell them if they asked?  That I'm fine, living in the cold country on a farm.  Away from civilization.  If they even asked.  I am the forgotten one.  Invisible.  Quiet.  Disappearing.

I know they asked about her.  She has a fancy job.  A fancy car.  A manly man of a husband. She's going places, that one is.  You were always so proud of her.  She is gifted. Beautiful.  Wonderful.  You wore your pride on your sleeve.  You never hid it.  Even in these moments when you are closest to death, you still don't.  She is larger than life.  All consuming.  Her problems consume you.  Everyone knows about the flood that ate her living room.  Everyone.  

Her brain is intact.  She's never had to use a cane.  She's never had to fight the System.  She's never been on a picket line with signs and comrades around her in masks all screaming "Feck the System" in one terrible silent voice, arms and hands moving to form the words that too soon die in the throat.  She's never been tested.  Her brain is not broken.  She is enviable.

My brain is broken.  I am awkward.  Falling.  With twisted words and too-loud laughter inserted at the wrong places in too-long conversations.  Lost in a sea of faces that all merge into each other.  Knocked over by putrid pink drifting up from the scummy floor of the public rest room.  In the corner, hiding my eyes from the sun.  Hiding under my hat.  Darting away from the glare.  This is who I have become. 

I am the forgotten one.  But no longer invisible, quiet, silent, good, disappearing.  I am enraged.  I am the one on the picket lines with signs and comrades around me in masks all screaming "Feck the System" in one terrible silent voice, arms and hands moving to form the words that too soon die in the wind.  You forgot to tell them about my car accident, my broken brain.  You forgot to tell them that I've had to fight for every damn thing I've got.  You forgot to tell them that the System is not a free ride.  That every day is hard work.  That I have to remind my brain to think and my body to move.  That rhythm is not spontaneous, that every movement is artificial.  That nothing is automatic anymore.

I am the one on the picket lines with signs and comrades around me in masks all screaming "Feck the System" in one terrible silent voice, arms and hands moving to form the words that too soon--
You forgot to tell them.  But I haven't forgotten.  We rise up together, comrades in masks with signs with rage with flags.  We rise up and demand to be seen, heard, acknowledged.  We rise up together a crippled mass of hurt and twisted pain.  We rise up together beautiful in our rage.

sapphoq healing t.b.i.

Snow

When I tell you that I cannot shovel snow, which word in the sentence "I cannot shovel snow" don't you get?

Car accident.
My back is wrecked.
Bulging discs.
Restrictions on lifting.
Will not get better.

This is not a newsflash.  Use the snowblower.  Hire a plow.  Or piss on it.  Whatever.  
 
I cannot shovel snow.
I cannot shovel snow.
I
          cannot
                               shovel
                                              snow.

Yes, I use my car to move the snow around the driveway a bit. 
                Innovation.  Adaptation.  Compensation. 

But not remelioration.

I have brain damage-- known in politer circles as traumatic brain injury-- but I am not brain dead.

I understood quite well when I was advised of my brain and spinal injuries.

Why   don't   you   get   it?




sapphoq healing t.b.i.

Swirling Patterns

Variations from a photograph.  I think in patterns something like these sometimes when I am trying to figure a problem out involving space or colors.  Colors and textures make me happy.

If you can use them in something or just like the way they look, cool.  Just don't hot-link.  Right click and save to your pictures...  you know the drill.

sapphoq healing t.b.i.

Forgive THIS or Against Forgiveness

A note on why this post is in this blog rather than one of my other ones: The article that prompted me to write this entry was twittered by someone in the brain rehab field.  I deal with the effects of my brain damage daily.  I thought this entry fit best here.  SAP

Forgiveness has become cheapened. 

We the entirely selfish self-centered ones have come to believe that forgiveness is something that we do to other people so that we feel better.  Furthermore, we engage in forgiving other people, whether they asked for our forgiveness or not; or have a suspect motive for the asking.  And we think that forgiveness is necessary to our peace of mind after victimization.  Naturally, the experts tell us that we cannot be mentally healthy if we do not forgive.

Forgiveness is not supposed to be a "feel good" process.  If I do not feel good about something that happened to me, you, or the world, forgiving the perpetrator or perpetrators is an exercise in mental masturbation.  The serial rapist will live to set fires and to rape again until caught.  The staff at the behavioral facility will continue to beat kids and teens in their charge.  The corrupt government will continue to spy upon its' citizens and silence the dissidents.  There should not be any "feel good" in knowing that these things will continue whether I engage in a psychological thought-twisting of questionable value or not.  What is clearly needed here is direct and meaningful action.

In the examples listed above of the serial rapist, the abusing staff, the corrupt goverment, none of these entities are asking for our forgiveness unless it is convenient to them to do so e.g. hope for possible avoidance of an arrest, a lawsuit, or a riot.  Even if they do ask for forgiveness, they have an ulterior motive.  To forgive in these circumstances-- unbidden, or when there is a suspect need on the part of the offender to have us declare our forgiveness-- is a betrayal of the self.  Not everyone has my best interest at heart, nor do they have to.  We are each of us alone in our own skins.  I will not bear false witness against my self in order to benefit you. 

Through life, there are events in which we have been the victim.  I was a victim.  I was a victim of abuse, rape, a house fire caused by an arsonist, a serious motor vehicle accident caused by an agressive and irresponsible driver.  I have not forgiven my abusers or my rapists or the arsonist or the man who inflicted me with the brain damage (a.k.a. traumatic brain injury) which has profoundly altered my life.  For one, they didn't ask.  And two, I don't feel a need to do so.  I am not full of bitterness.  I live a very full life.  I am happy. 

I have accepted that these events have happened to me. I cannot go back and undo what has been done.  This is reality.  The abuse was real.  The rapes happened.  The apartment building burned down to the ground.  The car got slammed into a house.  I do not accept that this stuff  "had to happen," or that "there is a reason" for them happening, or that they happened so I can "help others that those things [will] happen to," or that there a "benevolent gawd" wanted these things to happen, or that any gods "did it."  People did it.  Deities had nothing to do with it.  Ohhhhh, I sound angry. Yeah, I am angry. 

Why? because I am sick to death of people telling me or insisting to me that-- insert word of your choosing: the abuse, the rapes, the accident, any other word-- is indicative of a Grand Scheme which somehow gives meaning to my life and troubles.  I didn't believe those things when I was a believer.  I still don't.  And by the way, this whole notion of  "it happened so you could learn a lesson from it" is borrowed from the New Agers.

I have made my peace with the changes created in my life by the abuse, house fire, rapes, and my brain damage.  There is a deeper anger in my life.  I have lived through gross injustice.  The arsonist was never arrested.  The rapist that I was able to report got away with it. I have experienced the injustice of people getting paid off to look in the other direction.  I have lived through the injustice of paying for what someone else did to me.  I am angry when others experience injustice.  Stewing about it does not help.  Direct action helps.

 I am at times full of anger.  I consider anger to be part of the human experience.  I am not afraid of my anger.  My anger creates change.  I channel my anger into direct action to aid others in systems change. My anger informs me that something is wrong, not right, up, needs looking after.  My anger is crystal clear, not muddied.  Anger is my truest friend.  Anger, my anger at my situations and circumstances, is what propelled me into writing and submitting my writing so it could get published.  Anger was one of the factors that led me to setting up blogs.  Anger tells me that rather than feel helpless, I can join with others who are doing something about injustice.  And I have.  And will continue to do so.  My anger has saved me from internal implosion.  In choosing what I want to fight against and how I want to fight, I found more community.  And finding community can be a wonderful thing.

My peace of mind did not flow from forgiveness.  Because I did not forgive.  I wasn't asked to forgive the abuser, rapists, arsonist, guy who caused my car accident.  I don't have to forgive them.  [Only one person asked for my forgiveness: my primary care doctor asked for my forgiveness on behalf of all medical practitioners when I first told him about the professional who raped me].  Today, I am indifferent to their continued existances.  They are not in my life today.  I am certainly not going to go out of my way to forgive them.  Nor am I going to seek their forgiveness because "I had a resentment" against them in the past. 

I found my peace of mind from the work that I did in trauma-specific counseling.  I found self-esteem in spite of my trauma-specific counseling when I stumbled upon Nathanial Branden.  [Long story:  I will just say that there are times when the mental health professionals are crazier than their clients are].  I read The Pillar of Self-Esteem and many of his other books.  I did the self-esteem programs in the back of some of Nathaniel Branden's books.  I chose to put many of the things he talked about into practice.  After some healing from reaching inside myself, I found more healing as I was able to reach outside of myself.  The final healing is on-going.  I create healing when I connect with others in a fight against injustice and for freedom.

sapphoq healing t.b.i.





One blogger who wrote about it:
http://relentlessabundance.wordpress.com/2009/04/22/the-argument-against-forgiveness/

And another blogger:
http://itself.wordpress.com/2011/05/18/against-forgiveness/

Oh but we must forgive in order to experience good mental health:
http://www.guidetopsychology.com/forgive.htm

Even the Mayo clinic does forgiveness now:
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/forgiveness/MH00131

The article that got me to write this blog post:
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/heart-and-soul-healing/201301/9-steps-forgiveness

Non:sectarian definition of New Age:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Age

Sectarian definition of the New Age:
http://carm.org/new-age-what