"Controlled Enviroment"

  I finally have arrived at TRC! This would prove to be a hard and joyous journey at times! I would meet some really GREAT people along this journey. We were all there trying to overcome some problem. I was in the TBI (traumatic brain injury) program. There were several other programs on campus, but they were across the street in other buildings. The TBI program was in a building separate from the other buildings. There were a lot of rules! I understood the need for the rules. If not for the rules it would have been utter CHAOS. For example, in the TBI program we would have 16 to 18 students in a classroom. I know for myself, I had problems holding a thought long enough to have a conversation. If I didn't say it when I was thinking a thought the thought could be lost.  With several others having the same problem, it could have been a nightmare, with all of us trying to talk at the same time. When I first arrived at TRC I was still having a lot of problems with the "winnie-crynies". It is embarrassing to just start crying for no apparent reason. It was at this point I realized that I could not control the crying just because I wanted to control it. Dr. Fletcher  refered me to the "winnie-crynie" doctor. I am sorry I can't remember her name. She put me on a low dose of Celexa. Celexa is a drug for depression. My understanding of the whole situation was for anybody that had a brain injury the crying is a natural part of the brain healing.


The Celexa did help. It sure isn't a walk in the park, dealing with the healing part.  I had to deal with the anger, the grieve, the feeling of helplessness.  I  was angry with myself. I believe I had been having mini-strokes weeks before the "big event". It wasn't that I was ignoring the mini-strokes, but I felt I could not take off work to go to the doctor. I could not afford to miss my pay if I took off to go to the doctor. I was afraid of losing my job if I took off to go to the doctor. If I had known then what I know now, none of those reasons would have mattered.  I ended up losing it all anyway, and so much more! Listen to your body, it is talking to you all the time. Weeks before the stroke my brain felt like it had short circuits. I would be driving, and I would need to put my blinker on, but I would turn the radio up. I found myself when having a conversation with someone, I would give an answer that had nothing to do with what we were talking about at the time. I felt at times I would be "blacking out"?  I should have listened to my body! I could only be mad at myself! Nobody could have beaten me up better than I beaten  myself up? I had to grieve the old self lost. I feel the person I was before the stroke died with the stroke? Maybe I didn't really know myself before the stroke?  Where did that person go that could handle two or three things at one time? Where did that person go that could read and comprehend what she was reading without feeling like it drains every brain cell in her body? Where did that person go that felt like there wasn't anything she couldn't do if she put her mind to it? Where did her sense of humor go? What window did her social skills fly out of? Where did she go? I had to realize that she dead! I had to let her go. and realize what I was left with is who I am now!

Brighter Day

   Now that I had figured out how to sit and get  my body somewhat to work together. It was my time to try the "walk simulator". The first thing they do is put you in the "braces" to hoist you up to the machine. Once you get to the machine it hoist you to the standing position. In the standing position you try to "pretend you are walking." The machine monitors many things, but none of it made sense to me? Some days I would do better than others.  For me there were more things to worry about than just trying to walk. I worried that I would have spittle coming out the side of my mouth. I am not a vain person at all. It did bother me though to have  slobber coming out of my mouth and not know that it was there. Kelly was really good to let me know that I was drooling.  At the time I didn't have a purse with me. So I had to improvise my bra became my purse. They would joke with me about how much I could store there! I would keep my schedule, hankerchief.mirror,chapstick and pen. The mirror was to keep check on the drool. The hankerchief was for the drool.  T he schedule was to see how much reasoning you had left ? I believe also, to see if you had  if you had a brain left after your brain fart? While working on Physical Theraphy and Occupation Theraphy I was still working on Speech Therapy.

   Speech for me proved the most difficult! Speech included much more than leaening to speak again. It included comperhinsion,reasoning and stamina. I thought with comprehension, hey I got this with no problem! It proved more difficult than I thought! I was still having problems with the vision. I would learn much later the problems with my vision. The stamina was hard because after looking at anything for a few minutes I felt my eyes just shutting down.

Mind Games

  When I first started working with Amanda (my Speech Therapist) the difficult task for me was determine what real and  what my mind was seeing at the time? I would cry at the drop of a hat, and crying was one thing that I didn't want to do! I felt I was weak if i cried. Much later I would understand the crying. It sure didn't make it ant easier at the beginning! In my humble opinion, I think it would have been helpful for me if the depression and the problems with the emotions had been dealt with soon after the stroke? I don't know about you, but I wasn't one before the stroke to carry my emotions on my sleeve. I would have considered myself a withdrawn person? Well protected with walls around me. To go from this person to someone that couldn't stop blubbering like an idiot. I would think to myself as I had before the stroke, just get a hold of yourself? I was unable to "just get a hold of myself", I could no longer control the emotions. I would understand much later that my brain was traumatized, and I had to let it heal. I would realize much later that I could take Citalopram to take the edge off , and to control the winnie-cryinies. The whole point of all this being said is that I would not had to go through the embrassment of crying at the drop of the hat, if this had been dealt with earlier. The crying was not only an embrassment to me , but also to anyone speaking with me. I could tell they were uncomfortable with the situation, which brought futher embrassment for me. All I could do was pray that the mind games would come to an end?