Brain Injury Blog by Ron Harnett

May 10, 2013

Head Injury: Where the Rubber Meets the Road

My wheelbarrow tire suddenly goes flat. With the spring thaw, dirt and debris to be loaded on and carted around, not good timing.

What to do? What turns out is a classic TBI exchange. Mike, a fellow TBIer—he a car crash back in ‘96, me a fall off the iron in ’73—will come to the rescue. Mike repairs, fixes and changes tires on cars and trucks—and now a wheelbarrow—that pull up to a single-stall garage attached to a busy truck stop, Crystal Café.

And, with my penchant not to drive if I don’t have to, what a good time to just hop on the bike to pick up the tire—three miles later and I’m there. Sure, Mike said yesterday, looking at me with clear blue eyes, dark stocking cap pulled over his head, “I should be able to fix it for ya.”

So, it’s a nice ten-speed ride to the Crystal. There’s Mike, hard at work, rotating the tires of a blue and white late-model GMC. Looking up, the 30-something mechanic takes me to our rubber patient. He explains how the inner tube had weathered, then split.  A new one had to be inserted. We both looked at the small tire, firm and steady, ready to hit the gardening road.

Then, feeling like my bike tires need a little air, can I use the hose? “Be careful,” Mike warned, going back to the GMC. The owner, young, thin and pale skinned, stood there, regarding us, smoking a filter cigarette. “That air comes out pretty fast. I don’t want you to pop your tire.”

”Ok.”

Of course, immediately I manage to deflate the front tire. This pulled Mike away again from the Jimmy. I note how I used the end nozzle—air out—instead of the side one—air in. I watch as Mike spins the front wheel and sticks the nozzle over the stem. I hear a strong air whoosh into thin rubber.  “Okay?” Mike asked, heading back to the truck.

“Yeah, I think I got ‘er. Thanks.”

Sans hiccup I get air in the back tire and away I go. With a beautiful spring day, warm at last, I’m happy, almost giddy: the wheelbarrow tire is firm and steady. I’m ready to get to work. However, after a quarter mile, I realize that I’d strung the hose back up but hadn’t given back the gauge tester. Which is something I always hate—people just drive off and leave the tester laying around. What would Mike think, me just taking off like that?

“Oh,” I said, watching Mike let down a dull red hydraulic jack from the front passenger side tire, not seeing the tester where I thought I’d laid it. Now where did I put that darn thing?

Mike looked over.

“I thought how I didn’t get your tester back to ya.”

“That’s okay,” Mike said, turning from me and back to the Jimmy, “I got ‘er.”

“Well,” I said, “thanks. Thanks again.”

I hop back on and take off. In a congratulatory, small carbon footprint mode, I swing by a small liquor store. I grab a Gatorade which I immediately stick in the backpack. However, opening the top zipper, I notice there is a lifting belt and a pair of gloves but no small tire. I think Well, it must be stuck down in there. I’ll take a closer look when I get home.

However, despite reaching down deep, spilling out the contents, no tire. Prattling on with Mike, paying, getting air in my bike tires, had I left my patient behind, awaiting dismissal?

Feeling Father Time pushing me, I hop in my car and jet back to the Crystal. No way do I want to bother Mike, still toiling near the Jimmy, the owner watching Mike and regarding me with a nod—we’d almost become acquaintances. (Even though I don’t smoke, I felt like asking for a cigarette.) I go back near the cash register where Mike but moments before had rung up the bill. No tire, however, was in sight.

“Uhm Mike” I begin, feeling dread and desperation creeping over my body as if it somehow had disappeared, “did I happen to leave that tire here?”

“Yeah,” he said, “you did. I set it out right there.” He pointed to a tiny tire dwarfed by an over-the-road semi type leaning against the outside wall.

A sense of relief enveloping me, I clutch the patient tightly to my chest, ready to dash home.

Mike said, “I tried to holler at you but you were already gone.”

Making light I said, “Yeah, you no doubt were running down the road hollerin’, ‘Hey, you forgot your tire!’”

Mike just looked at me and turned and walked back to the Jimmy.

“Well,” I called, still clutching the wheelbarrow tire, “thanks again.”

“No problem.” Mike looked up from a lug nut. “Come by if you need anything.”

“Hookay.”

Two TBIs doing business. Like the song says, “Just keep on truckin’.”

Brain Injury Blog by David A. Grant

May 8, 2013

Hi God, it’s me, David – After My Brain Injury!

I know I should check-in more often. We both know things can get busy. I only have a handful of kids and that keeps me busy enough. I can’t imagine having a few billion Children to look after.

Thanks for understanding. God knows my heart is in the right place. Um… yes, You know.

I’m still working on healing. It’s been such a long road. It’s been a bit over 28 months since the accident that came close to ending this leg of my soul’s journey. Sarah and I are both happy I’m still here. Stuff gets hard sometimes. Living life since my accident has been such a trip. Sometimes I feel like I “do” less but like I “am” more. It’s hard to describe. I feel like a deeper thinker than I ever was.

Being so near to death probably does that to a lot of your Kids.

Take today, for instance. I pushed out 15 miles on my mountain bike. I wear an old sock over my neon green cast to keep the road dirt off it…and to cause passers-by to not do a bit of a double take.

And today I thought about stardust.

Since my accident, I’ve taken up an interest in nuclear physics. That alone is a bit of an oddity. Most of your Kids don’t realize that all the matter that we see, all that we touch, all that defines the word as we see it, all that matter comes from exploding stars. Every atom and molecule that makes me is a piece of stardust. Virtually every human being who has walked the Earth since time began is made of stardust. It’s a bit humbling.

Can I ask you a question?

When I look into the night sky and see stars, am I really looking at the building blocks of people yet to be born? The raw ingredients of souls yet to be born? There is so much mystery in Your world.

I’m going to do my best to keep on healing. So much has changed since my brain injury. It’s like the very foundation of my world has shifted. What’s up is down, what was left is now right. There was a time in my past where I placed a bit more value on the material than I should have. But if I look at the richest of the rich in today’s troubled world, all that material wealth will not add a single heartbeat to someone’s life.

Ahhh, but you’ve shown me that by trying to give back, the number of my heartbeats may not increase, but the value of my days is beyond that of the richest of men. In Your infinite wisdom, You have granted me that and so many other new awareness’s.

For those gifts, I thank You.

I’ll try to not get so busy that I sometimes forget to say thank you. But please know that in my heart, in my heart of hearts, I am grateful that You spared my life 28 months ago.

And if I really believe that You spared my life, I know it was spared for a reason.

A reason I am still trying to figure out.

I guess that makes me pretty human.

About the Author

David A. Grant is a writer based in New Hampshire and the author of Metamorphosis, Surviving Brain Injury. A survivor of a harrowing cycling accident in 2010, David openly shares his experience, strength and hope as a brain injury survivor.

For more information please visit www.metamorphosisbook.com/

Brain Injury Blog by Nancy Ludowese

May 7, 2013

The Near Normal after Brain Injury

Four years ago, I survived two Mild Traumatic Brain Injuries, one from a car accident in which I was broadsided while idling at a stoplight. My driver’s side and curtain airbags deployed.  Contre Coup.  Less than a week later, I slipped and fell on the sidewalk at work; ice disguised beneath the snow, and hit the back of my head.   I coined the term, “the near normal,” instead of “the new normal,” in relationship to the way in which I function today, four years later.

I had suffered a multiple of injuries, some were obvious at the time, however, other injuries remained a mystery, until discovered one to three years later.   I knew that some things were different, and I didn’t understand why I would cry for no reason and why I couldn’t stop. Or, I asked myself, how could I be so tired after driving for an hour and have to take a nap.  If  I planned on driving to a location other than work or church, I would have to think about the route, instead of just driving there. I couldn’t read for long periods of time without getting tired.  I would miss lines or words on a page. Music seemed so loud in stores and restaurants. Fluorescent lights seemed so much brighter.  I found it difficult to follow the steps of a recipe.  I isolated myself from people. I had difficulty retaining information that I read or that was spoken to me. I wanted to name just a few.  At the time, I thought I was going crazy.  After much rehab, as well as my own research, I began to understand why.  I recognize that I have improved since 2009; however, some things will remain the same.  The key for me is self acceptance of my “near normal.”   Perhaps you know what I mean.

Cheryl Green

Brain Injury Blog by Cheryl Green

May 6, 2013

Is it a Brain Injury?

Oh, I do that too!

Sometimes I forget a name. People without brain injury try to make me feel better with, “Oh, I do that too! Maybe I have a brain injury! Ha, ha!” That doesn’t make me feel better. Before my TBI, I forgot names sometimes. I just didn’t forget my own family members’ names and call them “Um, Excuse Me.”

That doesn’t mean it’s a brain injury

Everyone has something they’re not great at. My mom has lost her keys every day of her adult life. She’s not brain-injured. She’s just not good at paying attention to where things are in a room, and she’s always doing two things at once.  We all develop differently and get different educations, experiences and opportunities.

It’s one thing to forget a name. But sometimes I don’t recognize the concept of “Name” and can’t understand how you get someone’s attention. So I hit them. That is brain injury, not your everyday forgetting a name.

Or what if it is a brain injury?

Since I started making films about living with brain injury, people have been coming out of the woodwork with stories like this:

I had a bike wreck with no helmet a few years ago. When I watched you in your film, I thought gosh, I act like her all the time. I wonder if I have a brain injury.”

Or this: “I got knocked unconscious lots of times playing hockey and football as a kid. I wonder if that’s why I get lost all the time and can’t stay organized.”

This is much, much more common than most people realize.

Raise awareness

Instead of thinking a little flub now and then mean you have a brain injury, we need to raise awareness of how brain injury happens and how the impairments can affect your whole life.

It is never too late to recognize these things and learn strategies to get more organized or compensate for poor attention. You don’t have to wave a Brain Injury Pride flag and go to support group meetings every week. But you can understand that these changes that won’t go away might be part of a real injury to your brain. And there are a lot of us out here ready and willing to lend some kind support.

Brain Injury Blog by Christopher Chang

April 5, 2013

Families of TBI Survivors 

As you well may know, victims of Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBI’s) are not the only ones who face a tough and challenging road ahead of themselves. Families of survivors face just as much fear and confusion a TBI sufferer will most certainly be feeling. Imagine if you will, the long wait in an emergency room in a trauma center, you’re confused, scared and worried beyond belief, for the loved one who has just been brought in after their tragic accident.

You ask yourself, what is happening? Are they going to make it out alive? When faced with a life altering ordeal like this, you do not have time to think, but simply react. You rush to the hospital, fueled by adrenaline and the love you have for that person in pain. However, it’s important to keep in mind, that while you are being pushed by raw instinct, you should not allow yourself to be careless in the process.

Just blindly rushing to the hospital, opens up a Pandora’s Box of accidents waiting to happen. Take it easy and be vigilant. You cannot afford to get yourself into any trouble, while you’re on your way to the hospital. It may seem impossible, but keeping calm under the circumstances is ideal and will help keep you from panicking uncontrollably. Some of the best doctors in the world are working on saving your loved ones life and work tirelessly to repair what damage they can, caused by the traumatic accident.

When the patient arrives at the hospital, there is a 24 to 48 hour window after the accident that doctors must perform surgery. Removing various blood clots and relieving pressure on the brain is the most important task during the surgery and can take many countless hours. Waiting for surgery to be completed can be nerve-racking and tense, but keep in mind doctors are doing everything within their power to save the victim and restore what functions they can.

When it comes time to see your loved one and they are motionless in bed, with tubes spiraling out everywhere, it’s easy to get frightened and think the worst. You’re not alone, and many families face the same ordeals and fears. This feeling is no more apparent, than that of the mother of a child suffering from a TBI. A mother’s instinct is to nurture and seeing a child seemingly lifeless in a hospital bed, is enough to make a mother break down emotionally and mentally.

Many victims of TBI’s do not fully recover or regain full use of their normal brain functions, so coping with the recovery process is a challenge that both the victim and the victim’s family will face together. Hope is not lost however, and there are numerous rehabilitation programs available to assist the recovery of TBI victim’s and are good resource for the family to reach out to. It cannot be stressed enough, that you are not alone in this struggle and there are countless others who are going through the same issues as you.

Working together and finding an outlet is a prime example of building yourself back up and healing the wounds sustained by everyone involved in the incident. The best thing you can do is to keep your head up high and look toward the many resources online or out in public to help guide you through the confusing times. No one is prepared for such an ordeal, but there is help and guidance available for those who find themselves in this traumatic experience.

About the Author

Christopher Chang is a Graphic Designer/ SEO Content Writer for the Law Offices of BD&J. He writes and designs content pertaining to personal injury law as well as many other fields of interest. You can check out BD&J Law Firm for more info on traumatic brain related injuries and other forms of traumatic injuries for help and guidance. Follow us on Twitter and Facebook.

The attorneys at BD&J Law Firm offer free consultation for victims suffering from severe personal injuries or traumatic injuries stemming from catastrophic accidents.

Marilyn Lash Interviews on Brain Injury Radio Network

April 2, 2013 – Tonight!

Tonight at 10 p.m. eastern time, Kim Justus is interviewing Marilyn Lash on the Brain Injury Radio Network. Hosted by Kim Justus, this is a great forum for anyone living with the challenges of brain injury, whether you are a survivor, a family member, caregiver, or service provider.

This evening’s show focuses on the power of telling your story – and how to get it out there to the world. Everyone has a story, but how do you make it interesting, how do you find an audience, and how do you get it published? And how do you do all those things without it costing you a small fortune and taking years to accomplish?

That’s the focus of this evening’s interview so please join us at www.blogtalkradio.com/braininjuryradio/2013/04/04/recovery-now-with-kim-justuslash-publishing

Brain Injury Blog by Madeline Uretsky

March 29, 2013

Taking The SATs With A Concussion

On Saturday March 9, I woke up at 6:00am to take the infamous test that would decide my future…the SATs. I have been preparing weekly with a tutor for this test since January and it was a lot of hard and extra work. Going into the test, I felt very prepared and confident in my knowledge and ability. However, unlike someone without a concussion, I had to worry about more than just the test; I also had my symptoms to be concerned about. I also chose not to have extra time or accommodations for this test.

I woke up well rested and had a great breakfast. I was ready to tackle my biggest challenge to date. I got there with plenty of time to relax and I was feeling confident. Only one person in the room knew that I had a concussion, and I was just taking the test like everyone else. When the proctor started our room on filling out the general information on the answer sheet, I immediately knew that the answer sheet was going to be my problem. He moved fast on filling out the sheet, and I was the last one done. It was awkward when everyone was waiting for me to finish filling out my bubbles. I couldn’t help being slow with it because I didn’t want to make a mistake but the bubbles gave me a really bad headache, which made it difficult to concentrate. The test itself was timed, and I had been preparing for that, but I was not prepared to move this fast at the beginning. The setting itself was also not ideal. There were 30 other kids in the room, all somewhat close together, and the sun coming into the room was strong and I am still very sensitive to light.

Since my accident on October 13, 2011, my symptoms have greatly improved, although I am still extremely sensitive to light, experience severe headaches daily, have some trouble concentrating and processing information, and I have a great deal of neck pain. How could I deal with my symptoms and still do my best on a four-hour test? I could not have any help or ask any questions; I had to complete this challenge all on my own.

When I started preparing with my tutor in January, I was the most concerned about the math part of the test. Math is more of a challenge to me than English and I had not done any advanced math in over a year. As I became more familiar with the format of the SATs, my tutor started to work with me on general strategies for the test, especially the math section. She also helped me with strategies that would help me in terms of my concussion.  Every week, I wrote these strategies in a notebook so that I could refer back to them while studying. Some of these strategies were to answer the questions I knew first, not spend time on really difficult questions, learn my strengths, and always eliminate the wrong answers on multiple choice questions. During my months of preparation, I was concerned about my fatigue lasting throughout the test, my ability to concentrate, my headaches, understanding the questions, and filling in the answer sheet. My tutor helped me with strategies to prepare for these symptoms, and how to take the test the most efficiently for the way that my brain was currently working.

She also told me to write down any words that I did not know the meaning of in that notebook as well, and to look them up when I got the chance. She discovered that I am more of a visual learner than an auditory learner, and because of my concussion, memorizing a bunch of words and definitions was not the right way for me to learn vocabulary. So, instead, she had me draw a picture next to each word that would help me to remember the definition. She also had me purchase a boxed set of vocabulary flashcards with pictures on them. Numerous times, I practiced full length and timed sections of the test so that I would have the stamina to take the actual test without completely exhausting myself. It is tiring for anyone to take a four-hour test, but I knew that my headaches and my ability to concentrate would be a problem, so I practiced this aspect of the test to make it a little easier on myself. Reading/understanding questions and essay prompts has been more difficult for me since I got my concussion and that is part of the reason why I need extended time on my tests at school. It takes me longer to understand and try to figure out what a question is asking, and then put my thoughts together to make sense on paper. To prepare for this on the SAT, my tutor had me outline several past SAT essay topics online so that if one showed up on the test, I would know how to answer it and I would already have my examples; this would give me more time to write the actual essay part rather than spending most of my time figuring out what the question is asking and what to write about. For other types of questions, a useful strategy that I used was to read the question several times quietly out loud to myself.

The biggest concern that I had going into the test was filling in the answer sheet. Answer sheets for standardized tests, although self-explanatory, are extremely difficult on the eyes for a concussed person. The small bubbles, the bubbles being so close together, the color of the paper, and the small print are all things that contribute to headaches and make concentrating difficult. When I took the PSAT, I found it a challenge to track where my answers had to go, and my headaches increased because of this. Even though this may not seem like a problem to most people, my tutor understood my concern and thought of strategies to make this easier for me on the SAT. A way to save time on the SAT is to answer a few questions at a time and then mark them down on the answer sheet as a group. This was more difficult for me for tracking purposes, so instead, we practiced filling in just one answer at a time, even though it is more time consuming. This strategy is more effective for me, though, because it is less likely that I will make a mistake copying the answer down. Another strategy that we found helpful, which was also more time consuming, was to use the side of the test booklet like a ruler and put it under each row of bubbles to make sure that I am on the right one. When I went in that Saturday to take the test, all of these strategies and all of my preparation definitely gave me more confidence while taking this test.

During the test, I thought that I paced myself well, and I did not exhaust myself. I felt pretty good throughout the test and on the breaks I drank plenty of water and took some deep breaths. I made it through the test, in that room from 7:30 to 1:15 with not too many more headaches than usual. I was able to drive myself home and I felt okay the rest of the day, whereas I had expected to be completely wiped out. I did not need to take a nap and I even went out that night! Overall, filling out the bubble sheet was the most difficult part but the day was a success and preparing for it definitely was a big part of that. I look forward to receiving my scores and preparing to take the test again when I am hopefully feeling better in the fall!

Amanda Nachman

Brain Injury Blog by Amanda Nachman

March 25, 2013

The Average Person is Not Average 

On more than one occasion along my journey with my MTBI, I was told that the average person is at this point, and so therefore I should be at that point as well.  I was told the average person who has a MTBI, might have certain symptoms, but does not have symptoms such as speech changes so therefore I was told I was “unusual”.  I began to reflect on what average means, and how many of us actually fit in to the average category.  

We Are Not Mathematical Equations 

The average is not the number that occurs most often like the mode, or the number exactly in the middle like the median, it is the result of adding the numbers up and dividing them by the number in the group.   Therefore, the individual numbers become lumped into one number. This mathematical approach works out well when reporting on concrete subjects, but what about the individual human element?  Can you really lump all people with mild traumatic brain injuries in to one category and say that the averages point to these concrete outcomes?  What seems to be the glitch in this approach is that although we are basically built the same, our brains do not all function, respond to injury, or heal the same.  In this case there are too many factors that play in to the outcome of the injury.  Unfortunately, what I have found along the way is that many doctors are not only unwilling to think outside the box, but unwilling to think outside their medical school textbooks.  

With the brain and mind being as mysterious as the deep oceans, how can the medical field put down a definition of “average” when it comes to mild traumatic brain injuries?  In my book, Who Am I Again?, I address some of the challenges I came across by not fitting in to what doctors saw as the “average person”.  Rather than providing a healing environment, it created a damaging environment.  I began to dread going to the doctor. Even though we are individuals, we are given the message that if we don’t fit into their idea of what average looks like, there must be something wrong with us.  The question is, how many of us actually could be put in to this box?  My dream is that some day doctors working with patients who have had brain injuries, will look at us as individuals and acknowledge that there are no averages when it comes to symptoms and healing from a  mild traumatic brain injury.

Dr. Carolyn Roy-Bornstein

Brain Injury Blog by Dr. Carolyn Roy-Bornstein

March 22, 2013

Connected by Words after Brain Injury

I imagine I talk to my young adult son with about the same frequency as any other mother, which is to say possibly once a week, and even then, only when I call him. I suspect Neil and I touch on the same subjects other moms and sons talk about—his graduate school program, my work, the family.

What perhaps makes our relationship different is that I’ve written a book about my son… And he has read it… Multiple times.

To be clear, my memoir Crash: A Mother, a Son, and the Journey from Grief to Gratitude isn’t just a blow-by-blow description of the accident that killed Neil’s girlfriend and left him with a traumatic brain injury. It is, I hope, a thoughtful examination of how one family moves beyond tragedy. Forging obstacles into opportunities and finding grace in the aftermath of adversity.

Neil has read every word of the book. I gave him total veto power over each and every page. I would not be comfortable putting my words out there unless I knew he had approved them.

Reading various iterations of my memoir was not the first time my son had read my writings. About three months after the accident, I came home from running errands to find Neil seated at the dining room table with a book opened in front of him. Not just any book. My journal. I gulped down my panic, trying to recall what I’d written. But before I had a chance to decide whether to ask him not to read my private entries or let him continue, he looked up at me, his face blank as a plate.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you in the hospital, Mom.”

While journaling, I wrote with no thought that my words would ever be read by another soul. My feelings were raw, my heart exposed. Gratitude for Neil’s survival, anger at the drunk driver, fears for the future, all bled together onto the page. Neil was unaware of the disinhibition, confusion and agitation he had experienced in the ICU at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. He was completely amnesic for those early days. So as squeamish as I was about baring my soul to my child—what mother lets her teenaged son read her journal?—I let him continue, my words filling in the gaps in his memory.

Ten years later, I still worry about Neil in a way I don’t over our other son. I mine our conversations for signs of anxiety or depression. In the book, I wrote about how his father and I find ourselves wondering if certain traits—a slow response here, a stony silence there—are a result of his traumatic brain injury or just his personality; who he would have been without the accident. I gave the chapter to Neil to read for approval.

“I wonder that sometimes myself,” he told me, handing me back the pages.

He went on to say that he’s coming to terms with the fact that it doesn’t really matter how he got that way: brain injury or natural development.

“It’s just who I am now.”  Wise words from the mouths of babes.

Not long ago he called me to ask if I could send him copies of his CAT scan results and neuropsychological testing.

“What for?” I asked.

“I’m going to the Disabilities Office to try to get a distraction-free environment for test-taking,” he answered, referring to the PhD program in math education he had recently begun.

I flinched. I assumed this meant he was struggling with academics, drowning in the work or overwhelmed.

But then he added, cheerfully, “I got the idea from reading your revisions, Mom”

Well I’ll be. While the words in my journal had given Neil his memory, the words in my book were giving him ideas—strategies for succeeding in a rigorous environment. Advocating for himself as I had done for him ten years before.

My connection with my son is unconventional. We don’t have a nightly phone chat or even a weekly Sunday dinner. We are connected by words—our names side by side on page after page. It’s a shared story that has found its way into a book and out into the world. It has served Neil as both memory and game plan. The book sits between us, not as an obstacle, but as a conduit, giving us a way to talk about the accident. To rekindle a conversation that had, after ten years, grown cold. 

About the Author

Dr. Carolyn Roy-Bornstein is a pediatrician, a mother, and an award-winning writer. She is the author of Crash: A Mother, a Son, and the Journey from Grief to Gratitude (Globe Pequot Press. Sept. 2012.) Her work has appeared in the Boston Globe, JAMA, Pediatrics, Yale Journal of Humanities in Medicine, several Chicken Soup for the Soul anthologies. She has been interviewed on radio and TV and speaks regularly to doctors, nurses, college students and civic groups about traumatic brain injury.

Amanda Nachman

Brain Injury Blog by Amanda Nachman

March 20, 2013

What Does Brain Injury Awareness Mean? 

Awareness: to have knowledge or consciousness of a problem. (thefreedictionary.com)

This month is brain injury awareness month.  I read it on a brain injury resource website.  Ironically, most people who are going to that website, are quite aware of the impact mild or severe brain injuries can have on our lives.  Where is the awareness in the media?  Where is the awareness that everyday people like me suffer brain injuries just like athletes and military personnel? 

Awareness needed all year round

I am a schoolteacher who suffered a mild traumatic brain injury in January, 2011.  I have been working on “awareness” since I have been capable of doing so.  I have not designated a month, but dedicated a lifetime to let people know that people with brain injuries need support, care, understanding every day, all year long.  I did not get this, but I will do everything I can to change this for others. 

Let’s focus on the problem 

Recently, a writer for CNN spoke out about her injury (a concussion) and the impact it had on her life.  There was a lot about her story for one day.  Although I find it important to get our stories out, we need to keep them relevant in the media in order for changes to truly take place.  Unfortunately for this reporter, the feedback from her story became focused on her title “Living with a Borrowed Brain” vs. the actual situation and challenges she was facing.  The response these people gave this poor young woman was so typical of some of the challenges we encountered with medical providers, insurance companies, and employers.  No one wants to focus on the real problem here.  

Calling all famous people! 

Peoples’ lives are being altered on a daily basis due to mild traumatic brain injuries, and yet there is still so little understanding and help for people like us.  We aren’t crazy, attention seeking people; we are people with real challenges who need the support of the greater community.  Where is our famous spokesperson who can reach a broader audience?  Not to take away from other important diseases or injuries, but we need to build greater awareness in the mass media so that hopefully there will come a time, when you tell a provider you have a brain injury, and they will understand you need compassion, guidance, and support.  If you know someone famous, PLEASE ask them to help us build awareness, not just in the month of March, but every day.