A few housekeeping things on the front end of this essay. First, no two brain injuries are exactly alike. Second, too many healthcare providers (and others) act as if they are alike and treat us as if they are alike and that does nothing by amplify the already formidable challenge of living life with a brain injury. Third, there are some similarities. One of them I will talk about here, is the fact that our relationship with our injuries changes over time. As we age, our physiology changes and we change.
Before I move on, let me say that the number one complaint I hear from survivors across my state and beyond is they are far too often treated like they are children. It’s true. I’ve witnessed it. Two facts to keep in mind: no one every suffered a brain injury and got younger, and no one ever suffered a brain injury and lost their individuality. I was 30 when I got shot in the head and when I came to on the ground, damned if I wasn’t still 30 and, by the way, still Peter Kahrmann.
All of us who live with brain injuries face the task of learning how to recognize when the injury’s impact is present and then developing ways of managing that presence. Given that this presence changes, many injuries, for instance, are one experience when we are rested and another when we are fatigued, we are all, like everyone else on the planet, a work in progress.
Over the past months I have been relearning how to manage the first hours of my day. When I wake up in the morning I generally know the things I am supposed to do that day. Go to the store, make a phone call or two, write and answer some emails, get dog food, feed the dogs, go for a walk, work on the book, read, go to the market, and so forth.
Now, pretend for a moment, that everything I just mentioned represents a ball I want you to juggle without dropping. Not easy, perhaps impossible, which is exactly how I feel about being able to complete my day’s tasks when I wake up. Impossible! When I wake up and register the things I am supposed to do that day I am instantly overwhelmed, frightened, and positive I can do none of them. I can’t emotionally do the juggling and thus am unable to envision how on earth I will get anything done.
But there is good news. This early morning flooding is temporary. I have learned it takes my brain time to wake up and gather itself because, after being awake for a couple of hours, what felt impossible now feels very possible. And so, my early morning strategy is reminding myself that this too shall pass. So, I have my morning coffee, relax, read the news on the web, and wait for my brain to wake up.
Before I sign off here, a word to those in the healthcare field who work with us. If you don’t provide us with a non-judgmental environment that recognizes our individuality you will fail miserably in your stated desire to help us grow our lives. In fact, you will make the task of growing our lives and managing our injuries even harder. I know what I say here will make a difference to the many providers who truly do care. I also know what I say won’t make a damn bit of difference to the providers who don’t care. They’re out there too. I’ve seen’m.