And now winter has arrived

snow covered buildings
It’s not this bad, but this is how it feels.

It’s snowing again. It snowed a lot, the other day, and now it’s snowing again. I’ve been mainly moving snow with my shovel, this winter, pushing it aside, instead of using my snowblower. I need the exercise. I was turning into a lump. But today (or maybe tomorrow) I’ll use my snowblower instead. Winter’s got the upper hand today.

Whatever I do, I need to be smart about my choices. And that means using the resources I have – to save my back. Earlier today, I got out the snowblower, made sure it starts, filled up the gas can, and prepped myself mentally for a big day of snowblowing tomorrow. I might even do some tonight, before it gets completely pitch black. I need to move snow. And I need to use my noggin about it.

My back, shoulders, arms, and legs are all pretty sore. It’s good for me. I need the heavy exercise. It’s the one thing that actually helps me get rid of excess energy.  If I don’t do heavy exercise on a regular basis, I can become irritable – and that’s no fun for anyone.

So, this winter, I’ve been shoveling. And it’s been great.

This storm, however, seems to have other ideas. So, I’m being smart and not pushing my luck.

And that’s progress for me, because once upon a time, I would push it. I would test my luck and keep pushing myself to go-go-go, even if I was tired, even if I was getting uncoordinated. I would wear myself out and then either be at risk of falling, or I would actually fall.

I almost fell, the other day, when I was clearing my drive. Black ice underneath silky, slippery snow. It was treacherous. I was careful. I didn’t push it. And I’m glad I didn’t.

I really do love winter, I have to say. The cold wakes me up, it makes me feel alive, and the snow is great to move. I love “playing” in the snow, shoveling it and moving it around. It’s just the ticket to get me out of the house and out of my head.

Just. Fantastic.

Today, though, I’m pretty much laying low… recuperating and letting my body rest. I’ll get plenty of exercise tomorrow, I’m sure.

Emotional/Behavioural Changes after Brain Injury – Part 1

lightning striking the ground under dark clouds
Sometimes the storm seems to come out of nowhere.

From The Toronto Acquired Brain Injury Network.

My comments are in bold like this.

Emotional/Behavioural Changes

Some people are left with changes in emotional reaction or behaviour after a brain injury. These are more difficult to see than physical or cognitive changes. However, they can be the most difficult for the person and their family to deal with.

BB: I had no idea that a TBI would affect me emotionally, or change the way I acted. Like so many people, I figured that a bump on the head was just an external thing. I'd feel pain on my scalp, and maybe I'd feel a little woozy, but it would clear up in a few minutes... or hours. How wrong I was - so many times. Emotional and behavioral issues have been the bane of my existence (and my family's) for years and years, starting back in my childhood when my behavior was erratic, and my emotions were volatile.

Not everybody will experience these problems and their severity will also vary.

BB: The severity can vary from person to person, as well as from situation to situation. With me, I can be fine, one day... be not-so-great (but seem fine), the next... and then completely lose it a few days later. It's often cumulative, but nobody on the outside sees it building up. That happens inside. Where nobody can see. And when it erupts... hooo boy.
fireball explosion
The problem for me, is that when I blow up, it puts people off, and then they think that's how I always am... and then they walk on eggshells about it, all the time.

And I sometimes never get a second chance, because they've made up their minds about me in a negative way.

Agitation

This frequently occurs at a very early stage after the injury. It can be a coping mechanism for the person, who may be disorientated and very confused. It is most often a stage a person passes through, rather than a permanent change. Examples include: restlessness, pacing and pulling at intravenous tubes.

BB: I've been extremely fortunate to never having had intravenous tubes to pull at, but I know the feeling of not being able to sit still, being extremely agitated - especially after a TBI. A number of times, I can recollect getting hit in the head, and then being flooded with agitation and an overpowering need to MOVE! Like when I got hurt during an informal pick-up soccer game in high school, after the hit, when I was lying there, dazed and confused, I suddenly felt like I'd been given super-powers, and I leaped up and started playing like a crazy person. I don't think I played better than I had before I got hit, but I felt like I did. And I was ON FIRE - or so I thought.

In another soccer game, when I got my bell rung, I knew I'd been hurt, but I felt this incredible urge to GET UP AND GO!!! And I started racing around the field -- in the wrong direction, no less. I nearly scored on my own team, which I think was a red flag for everybody on the sidelines. I did get taken out of that game, and I paced the sidelines in confusion and anger, because I NEEDED TO BE IN THERE! But it was wise to pull me from the game. I was not in good shape, at all.

So, while agitation may be a coping mechanism for some, as they say above, I suspect it also has to do with the mechanism of the brain - the release of all those chemicals, and the general confusion that causes. The brain is trying to figure things out - plus, it's firing on ALL cylinders, like there's no tomorrow. In addition to being a behavioral coping mechanism, it's a result of the brain's basic function.

Explosive anger and irritability

If there has been damage to the part of the brain that controls emotional behaviour and the ability to tolerate frustration, emotions can swing to extremes. The stress of coping with even minor crises, such as misplaced shoes or a noisy vacuum cleaner, can be too much and trigger an angry outburst. If these stresses can be identified, it may be possible to reduce them.

BB: Amen to this. The part of the brain that controls emotions is particularly susceptible, as it's out in front and there are so many types of injury that can affect it. Car accidents, where your brain slams up against the inside of the skull... or tackles that snap your head back and forth... falls, etc. Minor events can turn into crises -- just being blindsided by a sudden change or something unexpected happening, can set me off. Little things can turn into huge things, in an instant. One minute, I'm fine, then all of a sudden, it's off to the races with emotional overload and over-reaction.
galloping horse
Prolonged stress will also do a number on me, as will fatigue. The more tired I am, the more irritable I get - a tired brain is an agitated brain. And when I get too agitated, it's not cool.

Sudden outbursts... extreme reactions... it's all part of a day in the life for me, sometimes. Unless I can get enough sleep and take good care of myself. If I can keep on my schedule and be smart about eating and drinking enough water, that helps. So does meditation and just taking time to chill out. 

Lack of awareness and insight

The ability to recognize your own behaviours and change them when needed is a sophisticated skill that can be affected by brain injury. This can affect someone’s ability to: be self-aware; have insight into the effects of personal actions; show sensitivity; or feel empathy. It also means that a person may not fully appreciate or understand the effect that the accident is having on their life, health or family.

BB: I honestly had no idea how my TBI was affecting my household, back in 2005. I'd gotten injured at the end of 2004, and 2005 was the start of the downhill slide. I became incredibly self-centered and obsessed with myself. Small wonder - I had to recover and build myself back up, as my Sense-Of-Self had taken a huge hit. I didn't know who I was or what I was about, anymore, and it was devastating. I didn't recognize myself, and I was so caught up in figuring it out inside my head, that I never realized the extent of the changes on people closest to me (who were outside my head).

It took talking with someone on a regular basis about what was going on with me, to help me see what an ass**** I was being, and to do something about it. Until I started talking to a neuropsych on a regular basis, I had no way to understand myself and objectively examine my behavior, because nobody I talked to actually understood how TBI affects the mind, body, and spirit... so they made all kinds of flawed assumptions about who I was and how I was. It was incredibly unhelpful for me, and it did more harm than good. 

I got lucky. A lot of others don't have that opportunity. And that's a damned shame. It's criminal, really.

I’ll continue this post in Part 2. Watch this space for notifications.

Source: www.headway.org.uk

Source: Emotional/Behavioural Changes | ABI Network

Into the bleak mid-winter

winter sunset with geese flyingI have a confession to make. I love the bleak mid-winter. There’s a hymn about it, that sounds like a funeral dirge. The first verse starts off with a not-so-perky extended complaint:

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow…

It’s actually a religious hymn about the birth of Jesus Christ, and I don’t want to get too faith-based here, but the bottom line is, the start of the song sounds pretty dire, but it ends up in a happy, light-filled place. If, that is, you’re a Christian believer. Everybody else will probably be left as cold as the first verse sounds.

Regardless of religious conviction, however, the point of the song is that despite the cold and gloom of the winter months, a light comes into the world. And that transcends it all.

Personally, I like the bleak mid-winter, because it slows everyone down. All the running around and chasing after things during the spring, summer, and fall… well, it all gets a little tiresome, after a while. Our systems aren’t really built to keep going at top speed, all year long. Or even all day long. We need our sleep. It cleans out the gunk that builds up in our brains, and it helps our systems restore their balance.

The idea that you can get up at 4 a.m. and push-push-push for 18 hours, till you collapse, and then get up and do it all over again, is a dangerous concept. Some people can do it, sure. But they’re the exception. The vast majority of us really need our sleep to function. And that includes me. A lot of us could also use a nap, each afternoon. That includes me, also. But I only get that on weekends and my days off. All the other days, I have to keep up with others.

Of course, getting enough sleep is more easily said than done for me. Lately, I’ve been pretty anxious about some work issues, and I’ve been waking up at 5 a.m. instead of 6:30 or 7:00. So, I’ve been losing sleep. I’ve also been staying up later than I should, watching the tail-end of movies that I really like. It’s irresponsible, I know, and I need to stop it. And I will. But right now, my focus is on making sure I’m functional for today… not focusing on the evening at the end of my day.

But I’ve digressed. I love the bleak mid-winter for its cold, which slows us all down, as we have to deal with more layers of clothing. I love it for its long nights, which help me rest and relax. I love it for its crazy weather that keeps me on my toes. I don’t even mind the snow so much, because it gets me active and out and about. And I love how other people slowing down makes it easier to shop and go to the gym, because people are not feeling up to working out (especially after the initial rush over their New Year’s Resolutions has passed), or going to the store at early/late hours of the day.

The bleak mid-winter solves a lot of logistical issues for me, slows things down, gives me a break from the onslaught of constant go-go-go, and it gives me space to move and think instead of having to constantly negotiate the world around me.

And that’s fine. It’s just fine with me. So… onward.

TBI Recovery – more work than you can ever imagine

5-Minute Read

shoestrings tied on a shoe
I always tied my shoestrings in a way I didn’t like – till last month

After nearly 50 years of tying my shoes in a way that makes the laces stick out in weird ways, I’ve finally started tying them in a way that makes them neatly lie flat across my shoes.

I’ve been bothered by my “askew” shoestrings for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid and first learned to tie them, I was happy I’d just figured out how to tie them. But the way they lay — all scrunched up and crooked — really bothered me.

I told my dad once, and he said I could tie them differently, by looping the shoelaces around in the opposite direction. At the time, it was too much for me to wrap my head around. It didn’t make sense to me. Plus, I’d only mastered the motion (and muscle memory) of tying them properly in the one way I knew how.

And I was afraid I’d lose the tenuous skill I’d already learned.

Years later — nearly 50 years, to be more accurate — I’ve finally decided to tie them in the way that makes the loops lie flat across my shoes. They’re less likely to trip me up, that way. And I like how they feel better than the old way.

I’ve been doing this regularly, for the past couple of weeks — making the concerted effort to tie them in the way that makes them neat and tidy.

But you know what? I keep going back to the old ways. Back to the old habit of tying them in a way that’s really second-nature to me, after doing it that exact way for all these years.

And that’s taught me, yet again, about how and why TBI / concussion can be so difficult to recover from. The “wiring” that you’ve trained to use in a certain way — habits of thought and action, movements of your body, ways you think about things, routines of sleeping and waking — may have changed in ways you cannot see, but it’s all switched around, so you have to find new ways of doing things that you’re used to doing in one certain way… since forever.

And no matter how well you train yourself to do things the new way, no matter how much conditioning you have, no matter how well you like the new way, no matter how badly the old way has been disrupted, your brain and your body are still going to try to do things the old ways, the ways that they think they still know how to do.

They don’t, of course… or maybe they need to be intensely retrained. But they don’t realize it. And that’s one of the hallmarks of TBI: not knowing what’s messed up, until it’s too late (and then, sometimes not even realizing it yourself).

No matter how convinced I am of the new way of tying my shoelaces… no matter how much I may like the new way of doing things… no matter how much I used to hate the old way of doing things… that’s what my brain and body and muscle memory are used to. It’s what they feel comfortable doing. Even if it doesn’t work.

So, I have to keep after it. Like all of us who are dealing with somewhat broken brains / disrupted wiring. Our systems will go for the way that they think is easiest and what’s most familiar. They just don’t know it won’t work out.

And that’s what we have to keep learning and relearning and readjusting to, over and over again. No matter how long ago the injury happened.

It takes a ton more work and effort and attention and focus and determination to recover — even from a “mild” traumatic brain injury. That’s what most people don’t understand… but every long-term survivor knows, all too well.

Be that as it may… Onward…

Nearly there – on the eve of Christmas

Christmas wrapping
The final push is on…

I’m supposed to be shopping, right now. I intended to get up early and head out to a local department store to pick up the last of the gifts I’m giving. Then I was coming back to deal with one of the cars having a nearly-flat tire. Then I was going to run some last-minute errands, followed by a nap, followed by gift wrapping, followed by making the Christmas turkey, followed by preparing the trimmings, followed by more gift wrapping… and then finally supper.

It sounds like a lot, only because I have it all broken into different pieces. But breaking things up into different pieces and then scheduling each one in its own time slot actually makes it much easier to take care of everything.

Because it’s all got to get done. It’s not like it’s optional. The gifts need to get wrapped, and the food needs to get cooked. The car needs to have sufficient air in the tires, and I have to have my nap. It will all get done… so long as I keep my cool.

Yesterday, I talked about how I need to keep my cool around my spouse when tensions get high. And it’s true. As much because of their cognitive issues, as mine. Last night, I was feeling really rushed, and I was having a lot of trouble keeping my thoughts straight. I have not been good about keeping on my sleeping schedule. My spouse has been especially needy/demanding, this year, and they have also been having more trouble thinking things through, which makes them more emotional and more volatile.

So, to calm them down, I have been staying up later in the evening, watching television, and adapting more to their schedule, as well as their eating habits (I’ve been eating a lot more bread than I should, which is messing me up, because my body can’t handle the gluten/wheat as well as it used to). It’s great for them, but it’s terrible for me. And it wears on me, after a while.

I was feeling really pressured, and I said something that my spouse took the wrong way. They took a lot of things the wrong way, yesterday, for some reason. They’re feeling depressed and isolated and not that great, physically, so that’s an added stresser for them. And they take things the wrong way, getting all riled about things I say and do, which I’m trying really hard to not do wrong.

So, painful awkwardness ensued, and it took most of the evening for things to even out again.

Man, oh man, I cannot wait for Christmas to just be over.

Well, anyway… I’ve got a week and a half of time off ahead of me (oh, except for a few hours I need to work, next week, to balance out my vacation/work schedule). And I need to be especially protective of myself, my time, and my energy, while I’m home. We have a number of scheduled activities we have to go to — doctors and social gatherings and errands to be run — so I need to keep balanced, and keep my system in good shape.

That means exercising as usual, each morning. That means being smarter about what I eat and drink (making sure I drink enough water). That means being firm about the times when I got to sleep, and not being pressured to shift my schedule later, just because I’ve had a nap.

I felt sick all during the Thanksgiving holiday, because I wasn’t keeping on my sleeping schedule. And I don’t want to do that all over again. I’m feeling a little sick, right now, actually. I just have to get everything done. And then do it.

Could be, I have to call AAA to add air to that tire, since it might not be safe to drive on it. But I can easily do that while I’m taking care of everything else at home. I just call them, and they come. Or I may need to change the tire, period. Either way… as soon as I get back from my department store trip, I’ll have the rest of the day to sort everything out. So, onward and upward. I can do this.

I just need to be diligent about it, act like the adult I am, and keep my eyes on the prize — a wonderful week off, when I get to relax and actually do some of the things I never get to do, otherwise, while I have more than one hour of uninterrupted time to focus and concentrate.

Luxury. Pure luxury.

Okay, enough mooning about this. Time to get a move on and get this show on the road. I’m nearly there… I’m nearly there…

Concussion symptoms got you down, this holiday season?

head form of metal meshYou’re not alone.

The holidays can be tough for anyone who’s got extra difficulties, due to chronic illness. And with TBI / concussion, sometimes the worst thing is being around people who don’t understand what it’s like to have your life turned upside-down by a “mild” blow to the head.

As I’ve said many times, there’s nothing “mild” about a concussion or a traumatic brain injury. That momentary alteration of consciousness means that something “in there” got injured. And no amount of positive thinking or motivation or … consequences… is going to change the functional ability, unless you have adequate time to recover and rebuild your wiring.

You have to keep the stress down, to do that effectively. It takes time and practice and sometimes a bit of luck, to rebuild what you once had. And being pushed and prodded by people who don’t understand TBI or “get” why concussion can turn your life upside-down, doesn’t help with that.

The holidays can be stressful, to begin with. Then you add all the people, the expectations, the increased pace (a lot of us are racing to finish year-end goals at work, at the same time we’re shopping and figuring out holiday party logistics), and money pressures… and it just gets worse. Cognitive reserves that were already in short supply, get even less… and meanwhile, everybody expects you to KEEP UP! KEEP UP! WHAT’S THE HOLD-UP?!

Some of my own challenges have been:

  • Remembering what I’m supposed to do at work. I’ve forgotten a bunch of stuff I was supposed to do – and I even forget to write it down.
  • Dealing with depression. It comes and goes with me. This year, it seems to be coming more than it’s going.
  • Keeping cool with my spouse, when tensions get high.
  • Staying on my exercise routine.
  • Eating sensibly, and not “stuffing my face” with all kinds of candies and cookies. I’ve done well in terms of candy, because I can’t have chocolate (sets off migraines with me), but I’ve eaten more bread and cookies than I should.
  • Getting enough rest, and keeping on my regular sleep schedule. A tired brain is an irritable brain, and boy, do I get irritable when I get tired. I’ve had a hard time keeping on my sleep schedule, these past weeks, and I really have to concentrate on getting that sorted out when I’m off work next week.
  • Not pushing myself too hard. It’s easy for me to push. I know how to do that. But while it used to work okay when I was in my 30s, now that I’m past 50, it’s just not the same. I need to remember where I am… and act accordingly.

Basically, keeping myself together during the holidays is like an extra part-time job. It helps that I haven’t spent a lot of time socializing with friends and family. That takes the pressure off. But for many, many other people, they don’t have that option. And my heart goes out to them.

Still and all, it will be over soon enough. Just a few more days till Christmas, then another week till New Years (which isn’t much of a holiday for me, anyway). Then I can get back to my regular life.

And start the year fresh.

Onward.

Finally getting into the holidays

christmas tree
It’s a modest Christmas, this year

This holiday season has been quite different from past years. Both of us were too sick to travel for Thanksgiving, so we stayed home and ate turkey in the peace and quiet of our own company. It was nice. No yelling, no screaming, no wild flurries of activity and trying like crazy to catch up with family members we haven’t seen in a few years.

There really wasn’t enough time to do everything — and my side of the family has a bad habit of trying to cram everything into a few days, which is exhausting and disorienting and sets us both up for a whole world of hurt, when we travel on to the rest of the family.

We were also a lot shorter on energy, this year, than we’ve been in the past. My spouse’s mobility issues — severe pain and limited range of motion — make it next to impossible to get around easily, and the impatience of others doesn’t help. It’s not a total disability, but it’s a significant limitation, which others cannot seem to understand. My spouse looks and acts perfectly normal when sitting down and chatting, or talking on the phone. They’re not obviously cognitively impaired. So, somehow that gets into people’s minds that they’re really not that bad off.

And that’s a problem, in itself. Because then people expect unrealistic things of you, and they don’t treat you very well, when you just can’t keep up with the frenetic pace.

Anyway, that’s only half of the problems we avoided by staying home and keeping to ourselves, this year. The other half, is my anger, fatigue, frustration, and bad behavior issues, which have been flaring up, now and then. I seem to have a shorter fuse, this year, than in the past. I think it’s really due to my work situation, which is mighty “dynamic”, these days. There are layoffs pending in the not-so-distant future. And while I feel pretty confident about my own situation — not only am I getting along with my new colleagues better than just about anybody I know, but I’m also feeling really strong about my professional prospects.

I’ve come such a long way, in the past 10 years. It’s pretty amazing. 10 years ago, I was pretty much of a train wreck — spending money left and right, completely out of control with my behavior, my anger, my self-management.

And I had no idea why it was — or that it had anything to do with TBI.

Now I know better. And now I’m doing better.

It’s just other people’s “stuff” I need to deal with. There are a lot of worried, anxious people, and that makes them difficult to handle.

But for myself, my prospects are looking good, so I’m not worrying about it. Main thing, is taking care of myself, doing the best I can, and not letting the world around me bring me down.

So, I’m finally getting into the holidays. Dealing with them as they come… and getting my shopping and decorating done, a little bit at a time. It’s taking a few weeks longer, than in past years, but I’m not worrying about it. At least it’s happening. And the way I’m doing it all — measured and gradual and not stressing about it — really makes sense for where I and my spouse are at, right now. This time is one for me to be reflective and slow down, not get caught up in everybody else’s dramas. They can go on without me. I’m fine where I am.

“Nobody explained my brain injury to me”

lightning striking inside a headJust by total chance, a week or so ago, I found myself talking to someone who had a stroke in 2007. Unless they’d mentioned it, I never would have noticed. They’d had four months of recovery, then they got back into their life. And while we didn’t talk that long about it, I got the impression that they hadn’t gotten any help with really understanding their situation after their stroke.

When they ran into their neurologist at the hospital, a few months later, they got a tip about how certain things they were doing were just not very helpful at all. Things like beating themselves up, because they weren’t doing a good job at something… things like getting angry and upset about stuff going wrong in ways that were directly related to their stroke… The neurologist gave them some insight into what was happening with them, and a better way to deal with it.

It was good that they chanced upon their neuro. It’s just too bad they didn’t get that insight sooner, so they could relieve some of their suffering — maybe even prevent it.

But they were amazed that I’d been able to find help with my own brain injury. They asked a number of questions about how I recovered, how I got myself back, how I retrained myself in certain ways. They seemed downright amazed, that my path for the last 8 years had even happened.

And it left me both happy and grateful that I found this path… and sad and frustrated that they hadn’t — that thousands upon thousands… maybe even millions upon millions of people hadn’t.

Here’s the thing that gets me about brain injury recovery — there is so much that’s known, there are so many tips and resources and a wealth of information available about what happens to the personality when the brain is injured. But there doesn’t seem to be any uniform or standard way of communicating that to people. And so, we suffer. We really, really suffer. And it’s not just the brain-injured folks who suffer — everyone around us, especially our loved ones and those who are a regular part of our lives, joins us on the big proverbial float in our Pain Parade.

It’s actually pretty bizarre, if you think about it. TBI happens 1.7 million times a year in this country, alone.  Actually, according to the CDC,

In 2010, about 2.5 million emergency department (ED) visits, hospitalizations, or deaths were associated with TBI—either alone or in combination with other injuries—in the United States.

So, the 1.7 million number (which has been used for years, now) actually looks low. Add to that the numbers for stroke (nearly 800,000 Americans have a stroke each year, and 130,000 of them die from it), and other kinds of acquired brain injury (anoxic, for example, from losing oxygen to your brain), and you’ve got in the neighborhood of 3+ million Americans who have experienced a brain injury.

That’s just in this country. And that’s not counting all their family members, co-workers, community, and extended social connections.

Brain injury is a thing. It’s a big thing. And yet, somehow, we can’t figure out to tell people who’ve just had a brain injury, what’s happened to them, what they might experience as a result, and how they can take steps to recover?

This makes no sense.

And it makes me angry. Because a lot of people are suffering needlessly. Really, really needlessly. Just having the most basic information about brain injury helps so much. Finding out what happens during concussion or stroke — and then things to NOT DO (which medical professionals know about)… as well as WHAT TO DO — many of those things are simple and straightforward, and they all help a person make sense of their situation and chart a path forward.

Maybe it’s professional caution. Doctors don’t always know what to expect, and in any case, every brain injury is different, so every type of recovery is going to be a little different. Or maybe it’s lack of time. Or maybe it’s because doctors delegate education and training to rehab and therapy folks, who presumedly have a more extended working relationship with brain injury survivors. Maybe they want to limit their liability, in case their promises don’t come true.

Regardless of why that is, the fact remains, there’s a huge, gaping hole in the support of brain injury survivors — TBI, stroke, ABI, you name it — that seems only to be filled by people in the business of doing so. And from where I’m sitting, that’s a huge problem, because the profit motive becomes the most important thing. First and foremost, if you have to make money to survive, you’re going to focus on making money. And then you end up making a lot of choices that you wouldn’t necessary make (or have to make) otherwise.

So, the care you provide is necessarily compromised.

And the slippery slide begins… and continues.

Where does that leave the survivors? Or the people around them who struggle to understand what’s happening? Where does that leave the wider community who has lost the full participation of someone who is important to others, in large or small ways?

It leaves us nowhere. In no-mans-land. In limbo. Uncertain. Without a clue. And eventually, without hope.

A lot of lives are irreparably trashed, because of lack of support — even the most basic explanation of what’s happening… simply because someone couldn’t figure out how to explain a brain injury to the survivor, as well as to their immediate circle of family and friends.

How ironic, that advertisers can figure out how to explain and sell the most inane crap to just about anybody with a pulse, but nobody can figure out how to explain something as important as the logistics of brain injury to the people who desperately need to  know.

What a waste. What an incredible waste.

And I remembered that 6-digit PIN code

binary code - lines of 0s and 1s
Slowly but surely, my ability to remember digits has returned

I just had to reset my Twitter account. I forgot my password, and I did that thing where you have them text you a 6-digit pin so you can reset your password.

I got the text on my phone, which was in another room, charging. And just to see if I could do it, I looked at the 6 digits and tried to commit them to memory. Then I walked in the room where my computer is, and I was able to put in the digits with no problem. 880-765. Just so.

Woot! That is so amazing. It might not seem like much, but seriously, this is a big deal for me. Not only does it mean I don’t have to be slowed down by having to write down (relatively) short strings of digits, but it also restores a part of myself that I was always really proud of — being able to remember strings of numbers.

I can also remember the 16-digit number of the credit card I use most frequently (no, I won’t be sharing it here). I can remember the security code, as well as the expiration date. The numbers all have a recognizable pattern to them — certain repetitions of sequences of numbers that I only recently recognized. Years ago, I would have noticed those sequences and repetitions of patterns right away, but I’ve been using this credit card for quite some time, and it only recently occurred to me that I was looking at a string of numbers that’s actually pretty easy to remember.  So, that’s huge progress for me — not only the remembering, but also being able to see the bigger picture of the overall pattern of the entire number.

Back in the day, just a few years ago, I would have been unable to remember 6 digits in a row. I couldn’t even remember 4 digits. Anything more than 2 or 3 was a stretch for me. It was a big loss for me. Even though it seems like a little thing, not being able to remember more than 2 or 3 numbers — in today’s PIN-driven world — puts a big crimp in your ability to just live your life. It’s a problem. Everywhere.

For work, when I login remotely, I have to put a PIN into the login screen, and that used to not be a problem. Once upon a time, I could glance at an 8-digit PIN and punch it into the computer with no problems. Then I hit my head in 2004, and that stopped working. It was a real problem, because I was working on highly secure systems, and a PIN was required every time I logged on in the morning. I used to get so flustered about not being able to remember the digits, but needing to write them down and then punch them in, one at a time. I also had to really take my time, because I would literally forget what numbers I’d just put in, 2 digits ago.  I got so upset. I used to be able to remember 8+ digits at a time. But that went away when I fell in 2004.

I’m still working on remembering my digits. I’m still working on my memory, period. And my progress has been “uneven” to say the least. Every now and then, though, I get a clear view of how I’m improving. And it’s not just some flash-in-the-pan exception, but something I can do over and over.

Like remembering my credit card number – all 16 digits, along with security code and expiration date.

Like remembering a unique 6-digit PIN that I’ve never seen before.

Like remembering to do things (and buy things at the store) that I would normally completely forget.

It’s a process, to be sure. It takes time. It takes practice. But all the hard work is paying off in a very big way.

And that makes me very, very happy. Just gleeful, in fact.

Onward… and upward… always.

Days of pushing, days of rest

I rested when I needed to, I did my best to fit in as well as I could. And I rested.
When I need to rest… I rest.

I’m taking it easy today. I rode my bike this morning, but I didn’t do any weight lifting. I’m still sore. Plus, I swam last evening after work, and I was still feeling it this morning.

So, I let myself rest.

I’ve made the mistake in the past to not get enough recovery time.

I paid for that.

I know better now – more importantly, I’m doing better now.

And it’s good.