By Mary C. Cantwell And Michael R. Grego

As I recover, change is a constant in my life.
Some changes occur quickly, in a quite precise manner,
as I attempt to return to my former state of health.
Other changes come forth very slowly.
They may take a little bit more time
which is not always to my liking.
All the changes in my life have taken my time
and hard work to make it through.

My own memories are as clear as day to me.
Some people I know tell me otherwise.
Is my mind playing a joke on my consciousness?
Is this the comedic role I’m given in my life?

I guess what makes me the angriest is
when people won’t ‘get’ exactly what I tell them.
They misunderstand the meaning of what I say.
They choose not to take it in
or “view” the circumstances or situations the way I see it,
from my personal perspective.

I actually accept the new me in my mind situations,
hands down!
The new physical me is a completely different matter.
I would rather rewind the movie of my life
and go back to the way I was
before the consequential circumstance that
changed my life forever.
Therefore I’ve accepted my fate
although I will do anything to change the course or the track
that my life has chosen at this point in time.

Before my accident I felt I had the power
to control the way my life would go.
When I first became aware of the changes in me,
I knew I had completely lost that control.
Now I only go where ‘the chair’ takes me.
I don’t like not being in control of my own life.
It’s not a comfortable feeling.

I am not the same Michael as I used to be.
Yet, I am the same Michael.

For more poems by Mary and Michael see:

Musings with Mary and Michael

By Mary C. Cantwell and Micahel R. Grego

If you look it up in the dictionary, it will tell you that ‘musing’ means:

•           noun: a calm lengthy intent consideration

•           adjective: persistently or morbidly thoughtful; pensive; pondering

I am a TBI survivor. I was struck by a car at the age of 6. I suffered a brainstem injury and I was in a coma for two months. When I woke up as a result of my accident, my eyes never fully opened. I couldn’t walk, talk or do anything for myself. I had to relearn everything. School was very difficult. After my accident I had a learning disability so learning was very hard for me. It was also difficult because I didn’t have any friends in school and I was always teased and picked on. Even though learning was hard I never gave up. I even managed to go to two years of college.

Everything in my life has been more difficult than most people. Learning has always been tough and I have always felt younger than my years. I’ve never felt as mature as most people my age. Life is still difficult because even though I may be smart, people see my eyes and just assume I’m blind. Most people that don’t know me treat me as though I have more of a disability than I actually do.

Even though I have this disability and it’s affected my life, I’ve learned ways to live with it. One bad moment can change your life forever.

Following is a short fiction story by Genie Zorbas based on her own life and her wishes of “…what might have been.”

Just One Wish – A Short Story

By Genie Zorbas

It was two weeks before Jessica, her mom Sarah, and her brother Chris went on vacation. Her mom had promised her it would be “her week”. Sarah had felt bad because she worked so many hours and Jessica hung out at their restaurant all day with nothing to do. She was just a child and could really use some time to play. Jessica’s dad would stay behind and manage the restaurant while the rest of the family was away. 

They were so looking forward to this vacation. They had rented a cottage for a week. They planned their meals, went shopping, bought new beach towels, and Sarah bought Jessica a new bikini. They were so excited because they had not gone on a vacation since they opened their restaurant.

The day they arrived at the beach, Jessica’s dad warned her to “never to cross that road alone”. He noticed that the road ran between their cottage and the beach, and he could just picture his daughter running out to the beach in excitement. He shook the thought out of his head and helped unload the car. Her dad kissed the family good-bye and he drove away.

It was cloudy that day so they stayed in and played board games. When it cleared up, they were happy to go out and play miniature golf. Every time they weren’t looking, Jessica would roll the golf ball into the hole with her hand. Sarah noticed and smiled to herself. She would never say anything and embarrass her daughter.

The next day, the family went out for breakfast. Later on, the kids begged their mom to go to the beach and walk around. Sarah debated whether or not to go because she really wasn’t feeling up to it. She decided that Chris was old enough to handle it. Just in case, she dressed Jessica in her shorts and shirt so she would not go into the water without her. Jessica protested because she wanted to wear her new bikini.

Sarah stated firmly, “Absolutely not. Not until I feel better and can come with you. My head is killing me. You can go collect shells until I get out there.”

Jessica pouted and Chris took her hand and led her to the door. As they were leaving, Sarah shouted, “Be careful!”

“Yeah, Mom,” Chris replied.

Sarah went to lie down. It could not have been more than two minutes that passed when Sarah jerked upright upon hearing her son’s painful cries. Sarah ran out of the cottage to find Jessica on the ground. She had been struck by a car.

 ******

The next thing Jessica knew, she was lying in a hospital room bed.

“What? Where?” Jessica sputtered.

“I’m here Jess. You were struck by a car. You have been asleep, in a coma, for two months.”

Jessica came to learn that she could not walk or talk very well. Her life was permanently changed.

 Twenty-Three Years Later

Jessica was sitting at home with her family. She thought back on her life and was depressed about the accident, which left her with a traumatic brain injury. Although she regained her ability to walk and talk, one of her eyes never opened. She had learning disabilities. Even though she was smart, she could never keep up in school.  It was difficult making friends and she was always teased by peers. She looked different, and other kids didn’t understand. Life felt very lonely without friends. Despite feeling this way, she loved school. School was great because it allowed her to be with people, even if they hurt her. People told her she had such a warm and friendly disposition. They did not know how she felt inside. 

When school was over, she was looking forward to graduating from high school and getting a job. This would make life easier. She would meet people. That, she realized, was just a fantasy. It didn’t work out. Finding a job was nearly impossible. Everyone thought she was blind and no one wanted to hire someone with a disability. No one wanted to give her a chance. She had painful migraines and could not tolerate bright light. Life had gotten so difficult; sometimes she felt she couldn’t bear it anymore.

Sarah noticed the look on Jessica’s face, and knew she must be thinking about the pain in her life. To make her feel better, her mom suggested that they go for a ride. They got in the car and drove away. A little ways down the road, they saw a yard sale.

“Let’s stop, Mom,” Jessica said.

Jessica looked around and saw a pretty, unusual vase and begged her mom to buy it for her. The sun made all of the colors sparkle on it. Her mom bought the vase for her and they decided to drive back home. 

Jessica brought the vase up to her bedroom, placed it on her bureau and just admired it. Staring at it, she thought she saw a speck of dust. She walked over to it and tried to remove the dust. With a brush of her hand, the vase started shaking. Jessica started to get nervous. She couldn’t figure out what was going on.  All of a sudden, a strange purple smoke started to rise out of the vase. When the smoke cleared, to her disbelief, she saw a rather short man standing before her. She rubbed her eyes. This was weird; she had never had hallucinations before. Was this a new symptom of her head injury?

“Thank you for letting me out. My name is Sam. I am a magical Genie. I will grant you one wish.”

Jessica was completely stunned and did not know what to say. She started stuttering trying to get the words out.

“You’re a g-g-g….genie? You g-g-grant me a wish?”

She thought, “Is this guy for real? He came out of nowhere. I must be crazy. Or, maybe he is real….” Then the thought hit her like a brick: This could be her only chance to change everything.

“The one wish I would like is to go back two weeks before my accident,” she blurted.

Sam stood silently and finally said, “Those aren’t the wishes I usually get,” and then, “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

Jessica looked down, thinking to herself.

“Yes, I’m sure. That’s all I want.”

Sam then folded his arms, bowed his head and said, “Your wish is my command.”

All of a sudden, the room started to tremble. The things on her bureau started to move around. Jessica became scared and a tear rolled down her cheek. Over on the wall, a giant portal began to form.

“Jessica,” Sam said, “Do not be afraid. That is for you to go through. That is how you get to your past.”

Jessica wiped her tear and built up enough courage to jump through.

1985

Jessica ended up in the bathroom of their restaurant. She got up and brushed herself off. She went to fix her hair in the mirror.

“Did I fall asleep in the bathroom?” she thought, “What’s wrong with me?”

She was reassured by her reflection, “That was just a dream, it must be. I am the same age. But why am I in the restaurant? It was sold years ago.”

She left the bathroom to go find her mom. When she saw Sarah at the counter, she became flooded with emotions. Her mom was so young. Sarah was about the same age as Jessica was now. How could this be? I did go back! Being back in the restaurant brought back happy feelings from her youth.

“Can I help you?” asked her mom.

Jessica was speechless.

“Can I help you?” her mother repeated, louder this time.

“I…I heard you have great food,” Jessica stumbled.

Sarah stared at Jessica for the longest time. 

“I’m sorry, you just look so familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Jessica wanted to scream, “Yes, it’s me Mom. From the future. I came back!”

She didn’t want her mom to think she was just some crazy woman. 

“What’s your name,” Sarah asked.

“Jesse.”

“Wow. That’s funny. My daughter’s name is Jessica. You kinda look…”

“What’s your name?” Jessica cut her off.

Sarah noticed the line forming behind Jessica and snapped back into work.

“My name is Sarah. So what can I get you?”

******** 

The next day, Jessica returned for lunch. She and her mom just started talking like they were old friends. One of the things her mom asked her about was what she does for work.

“I am a psychic….and I work with the police and I’m….working on a case. 

Jessica had thought of this story the night before in her hotel room. It sounded strange to say it out loud.

“Oh, that’s so interesting. What kind of things do you help the police with?” Sarah inquired.

“For a while now I have been working on a missing child story. It’s been months and we can’t find the kid. She was kidnapped by her father and every time we get close, they run. So anyway, Sarah, tell me a little about your family.”

“Well, I’m married and I have two children. There’s my son, Chris, he’s twelve, and my little girl, Jessica, just turned six. What about your family?”

“Um…I’m not married. I live with my mom. My mom and I are very close. She’s my best friend. I have a dad, my brother Chris, my sister-in-law, and my nephew. I also have a dog named Snowball.”

“You’re kidding me—you’re brother’s name is Chris! Like my son! This is so weird!”

The more they talked, the closer they felt. Jessica was waiting for the right moment to tell her mom about her premonition—the one that would change everything. She didn’t want to scare her mom or make her think she was just some crazy psychic woman.

When the moment felt right, Jessica began.

“You know how I told you I am a psychic. Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I am just going to say it. I am here for a reason. I came to tell you that I had a vision about your family.”

Sarah froze.

“I had a vision that your little girl is going to get hit by a car on June 23^rd of this year. Does this day mean anything to you?”

Sarah thought for a moment.

“You’re really scaring me. That’s the second day that we’ll be on vacation.

Jessica saw the shocked look on Sarah’s face and said, “I know this is hard to take in. I’m sorry.” 

“Are you sure? How accurate are your visions? I’m finding this really hard to believe.”

“Please, Sarah. You have to believe me. You have to listen. My premonitions are never wrong.”

“I’ll have to go home and speak to my husband. I don’t know what to do.” 

“I’m pleading with you. Please, don’t go on this vacation. Your daughter’s life depends on it,” cried Jessica.

****** 

Sarah went home that night after a confusing and stressful day at the restaurant. She immediately told her husband that she met a psychic and that the psychic works with the police, and so she must be legit, and she said that she had a vision Jessica was going to get hit by a car. 

“What? Who is this nut job?!” said her husband in anger and disbelief.

“Honey, calm down. Just hear me out! Why would she know about our vacation date? Besides, I have been having bad dreams. I don’t want to go away next week. I have a bad feeling about it all. There is something strangely familiar about that woman—it’s like it’s a sign. You know how I am about these things.

Her husband huffed and walked out of the room. They went to bed in silence. Sarah couldn’t sleep. All she could think about is what Jesse had told her. She couldn’t settle, and tossed and turned. Her mind raced with questions:

Why would she say something like that?

Is this lady crazy?

Should we postpone our vacation? Jessica will be so disappointed.

What do I tell the kids?

We’ve been planning this for a year.

Maybe I’m crazy to believe her.

I wonder why Jesse’s one eye is closed. Was she born that way? Was she hurt?

If it means even the slightest chance Jessica could get hurt, it just isn’t worth it. 

The next morning, she firmly told her husband her decision

“If there’s any chance something could happen…I will be so worried, I won’t be able to relax anyway. Please.”

He agreed, “If there is any chance of my little girl…it’s just not worth my baby getting hurt. I want you to be happy on this trip.”

They spent all morning rearranging the trip. Now, the only thing left to do was to tell the kids. Sarah called them into the living room and told them, “The car is broken. It will take two weeks to fix. We are not going on the trip.”

Chris exploded, “Mom! That’s not fair! I told all my friends we’re going!”

“I know you guys we’re looking forward to this vacation, but it doesn’t mean we won’t go. It just means we won’t go next week.”

Chris stomped out of the room. Jessica said, “Its okay, Mom. I understand. I can wait.”

Sarah hugged her daughter. She was so happy it was over

******

Later that day, Jesse came into the restaurant. Sarah told Jesse the decision she had made. Jessica was so happy she almost threw her arms around her mother’s neck. She stopped herself before she looked crazy. 

“The case I have been working on with the police has been solved. The little girl was found. It’s time for me to move on.”

“Oh, that’s so good,” Sarah said, “But, I am sad you are leaving. If you were right about my daughter…well, I just can’t thank you enough.” 

They hugged. It was very emotional. Jessica almost started to cry. Just then, as she left the restaurant and turned the corner, the Genie appeared.

“Jessica, you’re wish has been granted. It’s time to go back. But, beware that the life the way you knew it will never be the same.” 

Suddenly, the portal appeared and Jessica was filled with excitement and anxiety as she slipped into her new life. 

A Few Seconds Later

The portal opened and Jessica landed back in 2008 in her bedroom. She immediately got up to go look in the mirror. She gasped at what she saw: Her eyes were both completely open! The past had changed. 

Jessica walked into the kitchen where her whole family was gathered around the table. 

“Jessica!” her mom cried out, “Where have you been? We have been waiting for you to open this letter. It’s from the med school!”

Jessica was amazed. She grabbed the letter with excitement and tore it open. She let out a scream, “I’ve been accepted to medical school!!”

“Congratulations, Jessica!” The family cheered.

“Now we can get started on your wedding plans. Don’t forget you’re getting married next summer!” Her mom exclaimed. 

This had truly changed everything.

By Angela Machovec

 “Time is the best censor, and patience a most excellent teacher. Simplicity is the highest goal, achievable when you have overcome all difficulties.” ~~F. Chopin

Hi, my name is Angela Marie Cecilia Machovec, or just Angie, which is what most people call me… except for my father and my doctor.

I sustained a traumatic brain injury on May 30, 2000… it was actually my last day of high school. I was 17 at the time, and I was struck by a car when I crossed the street to go back home. I can’t stress enough how it was like any other day, the same time I went jogging, and the same path I took.

But my world completely changed at that moment, and so did everyone in it.
I was in a coma for about a month and spent 3 weeks in rehab. I left the hospital on July 17, 2000. Then I spent until Christmas in outpatient rehab.

I wrote these poems in the summer of 2002 over a creative writing course I took… and these just came out. It truly helped in my rehabilitation and acceptance of what had happened.

I began going to UNC Chapel Hill in the summer of 2001. Adjusting to life is still hard at times, but with each month it’s getting better and better. The thing about brain injuries is that nobody can really predict what will happen and how long it will take. Most people thought I was going to die, including the medic at the scene; if not die, then have serious cognitive problems. Yet, here I am today, with none of the significant problems people said I would have.

If you have faith and believe the way my parents do, along with excellent care, I think anything is possible.

I hope my writing helps people to deal with their problems, or that it can express others’ own feelings, not only mine. People who have suffered TBI or have family members who suffered TBI need to form a community to support each other. Good luck in everything that comes your way, and never forget to have faith!

 While I Was Sleeping  

vomit projecting everywhere
brain pressures are too high
blood transfusions
lung punctured
tibia fractured twice
right arm dead
no left kidney
eyes bruised,
bulging,
discolored…
left side laceration
split spleen
blood clot
morphine

beep
beep
beep
beep

erase her memory of all this

Thanks for trying,
but it didn’t work.

she might need a vena cava filter
she might need a tracheostomy
she might not remember anyone,
or anything at all.
she might be paralyzed
she might be retarded
she might not wake up
she might die

No, I won’t.

I’m going to win this, you’ll see.

  And I’ll be fine.
After 

 As she lays here, she admits to herself-
she doesn’t understand a lot of things in life.
She doesn’t understand why she had to leave others behind,
why she had to live to see what she could have become, yet was privileged enough to skip away from the pain.

She’s not afraid to make these mistakes,
She’s not afraid to be wrong.
She’s not afraid of dying (and knows he’ll be there).

So what exactly is she afraid of?
I’m not even sure of that part.
Maybe she’s afraid of dreams that don’t make sense,
or letting herself believe stories that fit between the crisp pages of a book.
Maybe she’s afraid of letting them know what she wants,
or not wanting anything at all.
Maybe she is afraid of letting go of these dreams,
miracles she spent countless nights imagining,
winding and rewinding them.

She’s afraid of people crying.
She’s afraid to be normal.
She’s afraid of falling into someone’s permanent outline,
never escaping the known.
She’s afraid of stumbling into someone’s footsteps and never making her own.

Was she ever really here?

I don’t want to be a silhouette.

There are many nights I sit here,
wondering how I ever made it to this place.
But I don’t cry,
no.

I can’t cry.

 Net Bed 

Wow-
look at all these people here.
I’m not like them at all.

I’m no different than before, I don’t have any problems.
I’m not like them.
I mean, just look at these people- I can’t believe they think I need to be here.
The man next door is missing one leg, others are missing eyes,
then there’s the one kid who doesn’t even talk to anybody.
And also that guy…
he’s retarded I think,
and I don’t know for sure, but,

he scares me sometimes.

That woman over there,
I bet all the machines she’s hooked up to weigh more than she does.
OK, so what, I’m in a wheelchair like everybody else.
And yeah,
sometimes my words don’t make any sense.
I’m only missing a little hair, and I have this stupid tube attached to me.
Hey, at least I still have my leg, and it will work again.

As soon as I get outta here I will run forever.

Oh my God

I just have to get out of this place.

(net bed – a tool used by hospitals to ensure the safety of a patient in case the patient would attempt to get out of bed unattended)

  The Other Side 

Brian was speeding.
He hit me.
He panicked,
and thought I was gone.

John was keeping me alive.
He said, “It’s a shame,”
and thought I would be gone soon enough.

Most people, actually, thought the same thing.
But, I was not allowed to make my big exit,
not just yet.

It is forever changing my life.
I can’t look at people the way I used to,
I see them now through older eyes of experience.
I can’t feel things the way I used to,
life gives me such a bittersweet taste.
I can’t hear things the way I used to,
now that I have heard the echo of a higher realm –
it has a much stronger pull than anything on this Earth.

It is forever changing my life.

Well, nobody knows why it happened,
and they can’t understand what I’ve discovered –
how amazing it is to know I am alive.
And how wonderful it is that I can see the sun rise and set,
knowing I can watch it all again tomorrow.
They don’t understand what I have seen beyond.

I wish people could feel it,
I wish they could understand,
they don’t.

But the reason, I guess,
is pretty simple.

They’ve never experienced the warmth on the other side.

 Butcher Holler  

To ever wish that I hadn’t returned
is a horrible wish that I know too well.
A lesson to value life (that is rarely learned)
was brought to light when this angel fell.
Fights with best friends brought me bitter dead-ends,
so I wondered why I struggled for life.
On no one at all could I rely or depend,
and I questioned God, could this really be right?
But then I spent some time in Van Lear,
and I learned the reasons why I came back.
The people there have a piece of me forever,
they gave me reasons to cry and reasons to laugh.
To know they’re why I passed the biggest test,
the answers uncovered make me know I am blessed.

  Drifting  

I had a dream last night that Mom took me to the store;
it was always the same, and never changing.

I don’t understand what they expected of me:
to always stay the same, never changing.

So many nights I spent alone, on my own;
time had no meaning because nothing was changing.

I couldn’t wait to leave and be alone,
not hearing comments on “how she’s changing.”

My “friends” don’t know me as well as they thought, Angela’s life is built around changing.

 Responsibility 

May 30th around 5:30 p.m.
I braked as soon as I could.
Glass shattered like
a spilled box of needles.
She took my mirror with her.
When I looked at her
she was lying
in the gutter,
smashed and split.
I sat
in the grass,
tail tucked between my legs.

The police traced her
using bright pink chalk,
screeching against resistant concrete.

*Note from the author…
I wrote this from the point of view of the young driver. It put a different spin on my view of what happened and it put me into his mind, which gives everything involved a completely different meaning.

  Between Preludes and Nocturnes 

When I come home I see the new lines on your face,
and more streaks of silver in your hair than before;
I know I caused them.
When I hear you talking to mom, the neighbors,
or just to yourself,
I notice that your voice has gone from lion to lamb.
I have no idea
what happened between preludes and nocturnes.
You could say that I am a clear glass of water and
on the edge,
or that I’m simply a mirror to your mistakes.
But I do know,
whatever happened between preludes and nocturnes,
became our cornerstone that was never in place.

*Note from the author…
This poem is about the relationship with my father after my hospitalization and first year of college. It’s about the change in our relationship and the change I saw in him.

By: Katherine Kimes

 Tedious exercises

arranged in a folder

lie on the coffee table –

breathless air passes between

my lips. I strain

to elevate my tongue

visualizing

the accuracy of the implosive

connection. But only an

inconstant fricative form follows.

Syllables

fumble towards

perfecting the pattern,

dah, dee, du, dau, separate

then as a series.

A sequenced variation of

consonants unfolds

as the combination continues,

this mechanical process

routine.

Repetitive sounds

customize and

carefully combine into

precise words: day: die: do: due

–quietly as

my mind reminisces

of the subtext beneath

the printed sounds

not found on the pages resting

before me.

By Mary M. Wheeler

The White Dove Searching

Our dreams of life are stopped for a brief time as we have floated in the heavens and searched for our dreams.

Our lives have meanings that we do not understand; we are the people who struggle and face many obstacles!

The White Dove opens its wings to fly in searching of answers – why me?

We are the special people who had our moments with the White Dove and the Holy Ghost fighting for a second chance with life.

We are still the same person but our outcomes are so different. We have to change our dreams because we cannot have what we want in life, but we have something that other people do not have – the White Dove flying with us to protect and to seek our goals, with the heavens’ spirit of love for people like us!

The White Dove notices the love we share for people and how we share our ideas on helping each other as we go on in life!

We will make something of ourselves because we never give up on our struggles. I know the White Dove will always fly over my head to guide me through the obstacles of life!

It’s not an easy road, but we are fighters who had to fight for hours, minutes, seconds.

And the white dove opened up his wings from heaven, from the father above, to show us we have our goals set to help people who have to struggle to make it … and may we help each one to open his or her wings TO GO BEYOND THE GALAXY OF SURVIVAL.

Copyright ©2000-2002 by author.
All rights reserved by author.

 HOPE

By Mary M. Wheeler

Hope is a word that means we can make a new Life with help.

A dream that shows us we can live with our problems and people can share a part in our lives while showing us a new path.

To move on with our strengths and weaknesses and to belong in the pathway of life!

We need to be able to share our hopes and to be a part of something. Let us move on into the world of sharing our feelings. We need to have friends who have the same problems as ourselves.

Brain Injury is hard to face, with its heartaches and pain. We feel trapped and endure many agonies of failures and depression. We feel a loss of a part of life we cannot recover, but many of us go on day after day trying to struggle in order to discover some new ways to cope with every day living.

We change every day with small steps of success and torments of pain. We give encouragement to others as we fight for a chance in the real world, but brain injuries do not always show since we can look as normal as the next person.

I have struggled the last couple of years to help people and advocate for change of the feelings of employers. Yet the “regular” world does not understand our hopes and meanings of what we are trying to explain – or they do not see us as regular. “THEY SEE US AS NOT IN THE NORMS OF LIFE!”

I think we could teach people that we do have a lot of qualities they do not posses regarding caring about people, and we do!

My hope is that we can show people we can learn in new ways, show our strength and to understand WE CAN LEARN NEW THINGS, BUT IN DIFFERENT WAYS!

H=HELPING
O=OTHERS
P=POSITIVE THINKING
E=EQUAL OPPORTUNITIES

About Mary Wheeler

I am an individual who, in 1968, had a Brain Injury due to Acute Spinal Meningitis. I was in a coma for over 56 hours and found out about Brain Injury three years ago! I was upset about this and decided to write poems to express myself and my inner emotions. Writing poetry has helped to relieve the anger from inside me.

I used the “White Dove” symbol because I have a lot of high spirits and want to share my feelings with people. I want to let them know not to give up, but get involved with our communities so people are aware there are ways to cope with Brain Injury.

I did write a little poetry before the Brain Injury, but not as much as I do now. It is a new goal that I have made in the last few months and at times it is hard to find words. People with Brain Injury do forget some words and we have to use other words for meaning.

Many of us want to be our old selves again but Brain Injury will not let us! We have encouragement and many things we can share with others with Brain Injury. We should care for and support each other because we need to have friends that are going through tough times with physical and emotional situations that go with Brain Injury.

Brain Injury is a fairly new thing. Medical technology now can earlier detect more, which is good, but in the past, for me, was never detected. I just want to say we can make changes in our lives and help others who have Brain Injury.

My goal is to make my community aware of the resources for the Brain Injured and help set up a resource library for the center in my community.

Sincerely yours,
Mary M Wheeler

More poems about persons with brain injuries can be found on Mary’s website at http://www.poetrypoem.com/poetry1000

 By Jason Ferguson

I Lived

Everyday is beautiful; some are dreary and others are pretty,
I love them all and you would too if you were me.
To see that wonderful sunrise brings a smile to my heart,
Reminding every day; it’s a brand new start.
Then to see the marvelous sunset in the west,
It is there reminding us all that we are truly blessed.
To realize that I took so much for granted makes me want to cry,
I am so thankful that I did not die.

So many people do not get the same opportunity,
That is why I need to be the best person that I can be.
It does not matter what it is; everything happens for a reason,
Unexplainable events will happen everyday and there will be a lot more to come.
Some are to never be figured out; just because you can’t does not mean that you are dumb.
Take a second and admire the world around you and be thankful you are still here.
Make it a habit, day after day, year after year.
Peace 3.22.04

Surrender

 By Vicki Sue Parker

What I want to know
Is this:
If I walked towards
A mirage long enough
Will it grow weary?
If I stand a
Decent chance
Of survival,
I will stop declaring defeat.
I will arm my young soldiers
With the edged shards
Of my image,
And hunt down
My identity,
With the glint of my sword.
Scraping along the floor
Of subsistence,
The enemy of my life
Waits to be conquered.

The Cast of My Brain

By Vicki Sue Parker

 Today I will wear
My injury
Like a broken bone,
So everyone can
See my brain
Limp.
Hobbling around,
Unwrapping my pain,
I will wear
The crutches
Of their compassion;
My wound will
Answer for itself,
And no one need guess
What is wrong.

Today I will
Wear my injury
Like a tired cloak;
Sheltering unknowns,
I huddle my fears
Under a soft shawl,
And shield myself
Against the elements
Of my life:
Clutching the corner
Of my shadow,
I lift up
Just enough light
To look at
What I cannot face.

Today I will
Wear my injury
Tucked under all one
Believes they can hide.
A mask parading
The streets of Mardi Gras,
I will become a deception
Blending into a crowd
Of normality;
I can be New Orleans
Before sunrise,
Just to own what is average:
I have earned the right
To be unworthy
Of a second glance.

Today I will
Wear my injury
Like a crown;
Gathering up the threads
Of what I still am,
I will weave myself
Into a Mosaic.
I am a tall pile
Of jewels,
Using the wealth
Of my Soul
To inlay the path
Of my survival:
I am a pinnacle
Reached.

Today I will wear
My injury
As a wound:

Eliciting an earned sympathy,
Sinking under its own weight,
Not subjected to a stare,
Serving as a city conquered.

7/18/2004

For more information, see: 

The Get Well Soon Balloon

By Vicki Sue Parker and Susan Beebe, illustrator

Story book helps children understand their emotions and reactions when a parent has a brain injury. Describes coma, rehabilitation, coming home, and therapy from a child’s perspective. Recommended for families of injured veterans and service members.

It Is Time

By Vicki Sue Parker

January 28, 1999:

It is time to go.
My wedding ring swirls around its new home,
Our storage boxes standing half-empty,
Even our house was not yet used to our footsteps.
Still, it is time to go.
I danced through my last day,
As I should have, I suppose:
Having lunch with a friend,
Giggling as I talked about an old teacher,
Rushing back home to unpack,
Decorating our new marriage,
I was a bride unwrapping our future;
My happiness already stacked up high
Around me.

And then it came:
The moment where I hear
The sound of my husband’s truck,
Its engine grinding down the end of its day.
I hurry to the window,
Pulling apart two slates of our wooden blinds,
Looking down,
I see his truck pulling up to the curb.
Is that the way it works?
I took one last glance
At my old life,
Without even so much as a pause.
Why did I not slow down?
What I needed to tell my husband
could have waited.
Oh, the things you think about later.

No, I hardly took the time
To gather a hastened breath:
Snapping the blinds back into place,
Pivoting around,
I ran down the stairs,
Out the front door,
Onto the street:
I race towards
the end of my life.
What a cruel trick:
To be forced to welcome
My fatal wound,
Falling fast into my collapse,
I drown.

January 28, 1999.

It is time to go.

Date unknown:
It is time to wake up.
The house still half-done,
Our future yet to be un-wrapped,
My husband twists his wedding ring.
Still, it time to wake up.

I drag through my days,
Silence surrounding me,
My thoughts lay sleeping,
I dream of nothing.

And then it came:
The moment he hears
The sound of my new life:
Sluggish and leery,
Slowly, it starts.
My husband has so much to hope for:
He wants to look,
But is too scared.
He takes the time to pause,
To hesitate;
Quietly, he lurks at the edge of my life.

Our vows still fresh,
Untying the smooth ribbon binding our future,
I walk into my beginning:
Welcoming my second chance,
I tend to my injury,
And breathe in new air.

Date unknown:
It is time to wake up.

8/1/2004

I Am

By Vicki Sue Parker

 I am a reason,
An excuse,
An easy target
To blame.
I am the imposter,
The thief
Wearing her bones;
Rattling the chains
Of her ghost.
I am their mirror
That is empty of reflection;
I stole her spirit,
And put myself
In her place.
I am the arrow that
Pierces their hearts;
A clone,
Not created.
I am the native,
That speaks a foreign tongue
They can not understand.
I am the state of suspension,
Hanging over
The lake of my life.
I am absence,
A visitor in my own house;
Watching them wait
For me to come home.
I am a cancer,
Consuming myself,
Devouring my definition,
Becoming an adjective unknown.

I am the brain that bled,
I am the soul that cried,
I am the one who slept
For a very long time.
I am the one who awoke
In a bed
That was not mine.

I am.
I am.
I am.

I am not my fault.

7/5/2004