They're Back - Dreaming 15 months later

15 months and counting past the injury. It's super odd how the pieces just keep coming together. things I didn't realize were missing until they suddenly reappear. In the last month I've been deluged with dreams. I hadn't realized I had stopped having them until suddenly they came back. It's as if that part of my brain is now in overdrive and trying to make up for lost time. My dreams are different than any dreams I have ever had, and at least one part of them are re-occurring. I've had several very vivid dreams where I can't tell if I'm dreaming or if I'm awake. Over and over again I find myself trying to wake myself up from a dream only to find myself waking up in a dream state. I've explained before, probably in my blog on sweetlife4me-jp.blogspot.com, that for a large part of last year I felt I was trying to swim up from the ocean floor, yet wasn't getting very far. I call it "swimming in glue". My dreams now are a lot like swimming in glue. Maybe a part of me wishes it was all just a dream, maybe a part of me is afraid the recovery itself is just a dream. Although the dreams have not been scary in nature, the inability to ascertain reality from fantasy in my dream is very disturbing. In a way it does describe how I felt for a large part of last year. I felt like I would take two steps forward, to fall five steps behind. Recovery was a lot like taking an escalator to no where, and wearing myself out trying to get there.Finding new pieces is like opening a gift every few weeks. I like getting things back that I've lost.

Missing Pieces

Since the TBI, there have been things return that  I didn't realize had been missing until they came back. I may have been told they were missing but I couldn't see that they was missing (I'm pretty sure this is only going to make sense to those who have experienced at TBI or similar event). The last couple of months I have been pleasantly surprised to find some of the missing puzzle pieces return to the picture creating a closer resemblance of my former self. Having struggled with an overwhelming amount of guilt and sadness during the last year, I have found those emotions have faded extensively. Yes, I still have sudden feelings of sadness, but it is a controllable sadness. Most often I can distract myself enough until it passes. Also, I have found that I am once again moved by sappy commercials and disheartening movie plots. It's been a long time and I couldn't wrap my mind around why that was a big deal until suddenly I sat and cried over a plot on Grey's Anatomy. I have always been a very emotional person, so to have those emotions literally knocked out of me was weird. It wasn't weird in the sense that I missed it, it was weird in the sense that I didn't miss it and when I saw other people moved by something I kind of felt like they were weird for feeling something I didn't (weird huh?). Another missing puzzle piece came in the form of music. I have played the piano since I was a child. Until April of last year, I played the keyboard at church (but to me the keyboard is totally different than playing the piano). The piano was something I've always used to calm myself or to pass time while waiting for someone or something. It's always just been automatic with me. Sometimes I played a little, sometimes I played a lot. Since the accident I had not played at all until a couple of weeks ago. Christmas came and went without me playing a single Christmas Carol. With great hesitation I sat on the bench a few weeks ago and although it was rusty, it was still there. I've been finding myself at the piano in my living room, more and more often. It wasn't until I saw the look on my husbands face when he entered the house one night while I was playing, that this was yet another piece that had apparently returned. Another strange thing is he says my playing is a little different than before, that's odd to me. I have also noticed in just the last few weeks that I am less hesitant to engage in conversation. Maybe I'm more confident that unwanted colorful language is going to jump out, or maybe it's just that my mouth and brain are beginning to be more synchronized (I'm not meaning that in a funny way).I'm not sure if me talking more is a good thing or something that should have remained "knocked out of me", but I do recognize it as being more like who I was before. Little by little things are returning, like tiny grains of sand being swept ashore, little pieces of me I haven't seen in a year are beginning to show up.   Now I'm beginning to truly look forward to the future to see what I might find that I had forgotten was lost. I feel like a child when I realize something that was lost has been returned. It's like opening a tiny gilded jewelry box that holds an heirloom from the past. It is a most precious feeling and gives me hope beyond hope that eventually I will be whole.

The Last Part of the First Year

Each day things began to improve. My headaches would cluster together for a few days and then I would go a few days without them. The time between clusters began to increase. I continued going to therapy. My therapist suggested I asked my husband to point out nuances he noticed in my personality. Making me aware of certain changes made me able to work on fine tuning things that I could change and bring an acceptance to the things I could not. My husband and I celebrated each and every milestone. At night when we lay in bed I would ask him how I was doing... "Am I almost back to normal?" I felt like a little child needing approval. "You're getting there." He would say. There were times when I could almost physically feel my brain beginning to fuse together. That's the only way I can explain it. I knew healing was taking place, it was just a very slow process. At the beginning of December I had my last appointment with my therapist. She was moving out of the state but thought I had come far enough along that I did not need to transfer my care to someone else. She warned me that sometimes the anniversary date of an incident can cause an onslaught of emotional distress. Like usual, I sloughed that off because I was doing so much better. A couple of weeks later anxiety swooped over me like a hawk over prey. To add to the anxiety, the social isolation had taken a toll on my long term friendships and I felt the world come crashing down on me. The last 2-3 weeks of 2010 were as bad as it gets. I had come so far, only to fall into a pit of despair... One I wasn't sure I would be able to pull myself out of. I felt like a total failure and I felt like I had let those who loved me down. I can't say I wasn't warned, but I will have to admit that it still caught me off guard and totally unprepared. I had spent months trying to put the pieces of my life back together without being a constant burden to those around me. I didn't want to come across as self-consumed, so I shied away. Little did I know that my efforts to not be a burden had done nothing but put distance and suspicions between me and my friends and co-workers. I found myself trying to mend wounds I didn't know existed and rebuild bridges I didn't know had been burned. It was one of the lowest points of 2010. I was miserable at Christmas. I was saddened by the direction my relationships had taken and I was anxious about the future. I  told my husband that I was afraid I would have to build all new relationships from scratch, get new friends. "What would I do if no one liked the new me?" I was afraid that there would be no one left from the friends that knew me before the injury. Try as they may, they didn't understand what I was going through, and in reality I was too emotionally drained to defend myself or explain the process. It was a very bleak period and for a short time, I saw no hope in the eyes of the person staring back at me in the mirror. Thankfully that was about to end. A would come when I would see light at the end of the tunnel and although it was rocky, my friends have stayed true (confused but true).

Month Six & Seven (Light at the End of the Tunnel?)

During June and July my physical problems began to level out a little. The fatigue was still there but much better. I still had headaches, but I began to notice that every few days I wouldn't have one. Any reprieve was welcome. As the physical aspects of the injury began to fade, the emotional aspects became more clear. It was around this time that I began to notice that I had been withdrawing from my social network. The withdrawing had been going on for some time, but I wasn't really conscious of it. I became more aware that my verbal filter was impaired causing me to say things before they were thoroughly thought out. Again, this was not a new problem, but it became more defined because I wasn't struggling so much with my physical issues. My husband had been a rock of support, but the strain was beginning to show on him as well.One evening he told me that he just wanted his old wife back and that he was afraid the fall had taken away the part that made us soul mates. This broke my heart! I couldn't stand to see him continue to suffer and yes, the feelings of guilt were overwhelming. I felt guilty for not being able to heal myself. I felt personally responsible for the burden he was under. In July I began seeing a Certified Counselor who had training with TBI therapy and Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I could no long deny, nor laugh away what had happened and it was imperative that I understand what was happening and to cope with it the best way possible for the sake of my marriage and my family.I had reached what some call the "Uneasy Acceptance" of my recovery. The Counselor was able to explain to me things the neurologist had not taken the time to explain. She talked me through the mine fields of the injury to a place of healing and understanding. Seeing a Counselor was one of the best things that I did. I could talk open and honestly with her about every aspect of the injury without fear of judgment. Since she wasn't familiar with my past, she made no attempt to pull from my past to explain my present. She just took me where I was and began walking me through the process of understanding what was going on. Her neutrality was a healing ointment to my wounded heart that was losing it's way in a sea of the familiar faces. Familiar faces who although they loved me, had no understanding of what was happening, nor how to help me.

June & July Sweetp

http://sweetlife4me-jp.blogspot.com/2010/06/part-of-me.html

http://sweetlife4me-jp.blogspot.com/2010/06/stained-glass.html

http://sweetlife4me-jp.blogspot.com/2010/07/never.html

A Post From Sweetp Feb. 2010

http://sweetlife4me-jp.blogspot.com/2010/02/someone-elses-shoes.html

How It All Began

New Year's day 2010, began like any other New Year's day. Each year we spend the day with friends. We eat, play board games, play spoons, sometimes take a walk, it's just an enjoyable day. There are 4 couples along with their children who are mostly grown with a couple of exceptions. Each year we celebrate the day at someone else's house. I had made enchiladas along with a few other things and we arrived right around noon. Everyone was there except for a couple of people. The hostess had the food arranged around the kitchen and had put the desserts and drinks (non-alcoholic) in the sitting room. The sitting room was a room they had added onto the house. They used the existing cellar and built a small room right on top of it that adjoined the kitchen. The cellar door was still intact in case of a tornado and her teenage son had claimed it as his "Man Cave". He and my son were in the Man Cave playing video games. The door to the cellar was flush with the tile floor in the sitting room. The drink table was directly beside the opening to the man cave. Now the story turns and I am not going on memory, but by what I was told happened. We girls were sitting around the kitchen table talking when I decided I wanted something to drink. I got up and headed toward the drink table. While I was getting my cup I turned to add something to the conversation. When I turned, I rotated my body and repositioned my feet, however the place where I went to plant my left foot was the open hole to the cellar. I immediately fell straight back and down 10 feet. The stairs to the cellar were very steep and were at the front of the cellar. At some point during the fall I met the stairs as I tumbled and ricoheted off the walls and stairs. I landed with my head on the video game player (which was dented badly), my body was twisted around the bottom stairs. I landed at the feet of my youngest son. When they got to me my eyes were opened and fixed, I was unconsious, my neck was hyper extended to right so that my head lay limply on my right shoulder. The hostess was the first one down the stairs. When she got to me she said she knew I was dead and she began to cry, scream and pray. She moved my head thinking I would wake up or make a movement, but she said my head just flopped like it wasn't attached to my body. When the others got to me, my breathing kicked back in with a ragged "death moan" as they called it. I would not respond to them as they waited for the EMT to arrive. Due to the size of the cellar (very small) they had a hard time getting the EMT people down to me along with the equipment needed to get me up. They secured my neck and after much work managed to get me on the board. The had to lift me up vertically as careful as possible not to jiggle me any more than necessary. When we arrived at the hospital, the greatest fear was I had broken my neck. They also believed it was possible that my shoulder and hip was broken. X-Rays did not show any fractures which we contribute to prayer. The CAT scan showed bleeding in the front left part of the brain. The doctor was concerned about the bleeding and the fact that the left eye was protruding out.It was determined to be in my best interest to be taken by helicopter to Oklahoma City which was 90 miles away. They contacted a neurologist in the City who advised them not to fly me if there was cerebral bleeding. I was sent via ambulance instead. I don't remember much about being in the ER. I remember coming too when I heard my oldest son begin to sob when they told him I was being transferred to Oklahoma City, because there was nothing they could do for me here. The sound of that sob is what got my motors running. I realized in my semi-conscious state that I needed to get myself together and act as normal as I could possibly act. My entire body felt stiff and ridged. I felt like every muscle in my body was experiencing a major charlie horse. I was tense and couldn't move anything that didn't hurt. I dreaded the trip to the City, knowing it would be a bumpy ride. I asked for something to settle my muscles and calm me down so maybe I wouldn't hurt so bad. Luckily my husband had known the head nurse for years. He was terrified and she was extremely concerned. She talked to the ambulance driver who agreed to allow him to ride with me to the City. This is something they absolutely never do. My husband said when they got in the ambulance the EMT in the back told him that I was in God's hands because most people who have cerebral bleeding don't make it. My husband knew something that the EMT did not know. While we were in the ER, all of my friends began texting all of their friends, who sent texts to their friends and a prayer chain began. I truly believe the findings in Oklahoma City were a direct result of those praying people. I do not remember arriving at the Oklahoma City emergency room. I do know that they were going to release me as the bleeding appeared to have stopped. My family and friends did not want me released due to the type of injury and the distance. The ER doctor agreed to keep me over night for observation.I was released the next morning after the doctor got a consult on the CAT Scan from the previous night. The bleeding hand not only stopped but much of the blood had dissipated. I vaguely remember one of my friends taking pictures because I love to scrapbook. I remember my friends calling the next morning wanting to know what I wanted from Starbucks.I don't remember the ride home nor much else about that day. My husband told me that I had a very serious injury and that I needed to be very careful. In my mind, there was nothing wrong. Since I didn't remember much of what happened, and since they saw no need to keep me in the hospital, I was completely detached from what happened. I thought that if it had been serious I wouldn't be able to act so normal (which I was trying to do so my family wouldn't worry). 12 months after the accident, my husband still goes pale when we talk about the accident. He truly thought I was dead and had there not been many, many prayers, I believe I would have been.