Birdie in Boise

Dan and I went to Boise at Christmas to see my children.  I've returned to Boise several times after moving back home to Montana.  First, it was during the summer since I was still working in the school district and I drove alone, over Lolo Pass, taking the scenic route.  I always took that way because it is the way I know (the head injury aspect) but now that Dan drives we take freeways.  We stayed in motels and spent 2 days getting there, and 2 days returning, so it was vacation-like.

All the motels we stayed in had pools, because I love swimming.  Wait, those of you who know me, realize I can't actually swim.  So I guess it's being in water, floundering about, floundering about, that I love. Even in Boise, we stayed in a hotel.  I love both my children but it was nice for them, and us, to have our own space. There's also the fact that one of my kids live in a house with stairs, not a favorite. And not just stairs, but stairs everywhere you turn! And the other child has 2 dogs, 2 cats, and usually an easy-to-fall-in love-with foster animal of some sort.  The foster animal is there because my son's significant other works for the humane society, but Brittany is really the epitome of an animal whisperer.  It's not a great place for someone with allergies to stay, but I love my visits with the grand pets Dexter, Dante, Dre and Daeni.

The foster pet was a real problem this time.  I fell in love with Birdie, a tiny puppy of chihuahua/ miniature pincher mix.  Her enormous ears stood straight up and were almost as big as her head, so it looked like she was ready to take flight.  She had a bad case of kennel cough, though, and snuggled on my lap every minute I was in their home. She even cozied up to Dan!   Dan's cat, Tooncis, (named for Saturday Night Live's cat that could drive,) loves him, but I remain the extra person in the room. He'll occasionally glance at me as if to say, sOh, till here huh?

Well, because Birdie was sick I couldn't take her, but we loved on her whenever she was available. Soon after we arrived home Brittany let me know that Birdie had flown to that big dog party in the sky.  She said the Vet had determined that she wasn't thriving, and along with the cough, she probably had distemper.  Brittany was positive about the whole thing, and said in her final times Birdie felt a lot of love, from many people,  I'm glad that we were part of her short life.

Seizures and Such

I have a new neurologist, my 1st in Kalispell.  When I left the hospital, and for many years after,  I called them head doctors.  Probably because was the main injury that put me in the hospital.  When I left California, I thought of myself as recovered, to a certain extent.

Almost as soon as I got home we moved to Eugene, OR and I did some rehab the hospital near campus, but did not see a neurologist.  We moved to Lynden, WA after a short while, and I still
did not see a neurologist.  Finally we moved to Boise, ID and I don't remember seeing a neurologist there either. I haven't seen a doctor regarding my head injury since I left Los Angeles.

I did see a doctor, where I don't know, in order for my disability payments to continue.  I needed to prove, Yes, I am still disabled! And more recently, I saw a Doc here in Kalispell to review my condition, to once again receive disability.

I was happy to learn that it is very common for people who work themselves off disability, go back on it, at some time before retirement.  The last step in my reapplication process was to an actual doc, to show them I was disabled.  She examined me, and asked me some questions and we both laughed at their simplicity. I proceeded to answer them wrong.  She said she was amazed I had worked as long as I did, but she would report that I was indeed disabled.  She warned me the final decision was not hers, she was only giving those in charge her professional opinion.

By the way, she said, you should have a neurologist.

When my primary doctor and I decided my hot spells were not menopausal, and are triggered by anxious thoughts he also said I should see a neurologist.  When in doubt blame the TBI (traumatic brain injury.)  I'm sure you know some, who should I see? I asked him.  He told me the Lindsay brothers were excellent, and he would get me into one of them.  But just as he said Lindsay, I had a flashback to a high school reunion, when I was told that a classmate, Brett Lindsay, had become a brain doctor.  I asked to see him.

I've seen him twice.  !st we tried increasing my anti depressant, because that can work to alleviate anxiety, but it didn't work.  Now. we are trying a seizure med, because after talking more, Brett (I'm sorry, but I can't call him Doctor) thinks they might be mini seizures.  I thought, Call it whatever you want!  Just make them stop!  

Now, when I feel myself heat up, I ask myself, Self? Does this feel like a seizure?  I'm trying to believe it might be the case, and am planning a celebration when I am flush free, but there is a part of me that says, No, I'm destined to live in discomfort, I've had a TBI.

The temporal lobe processed emotion and is important in short term memory, and that's where I hit my head.  A blow there can result in seizure disorders.  One of the 1st questions you get when docs find out I've had a TBI is, Do you have seizures?  I always considered myself lucky because I don't have them; at least not the loss of consciousness/jerking around type that everyone is familiar with. But, I learned you can have a seizure that doesn't result in in any of that. So now I'm wondering, and researching what is actually called a temporal lobe seizure.

Having odd feeling like euphoria or deja vu are also typical of temporal lobe seizure symptoms. Funny thing is I've always had a view deja vu moments, but I've had many, many more for the past couple years, and they've been different.  I always assumed they were glimpses into past lives (yes, I believe in reincarnation) because the brief thoughts are of another era.  Those short moments are very pleasant, but Brett says they may also go away, with the hot flashes, but it would be worth it.

We'll see if 6 weeks on this med helps.  Stay tuned.

Chapter Five- Those Things I Haven't forgotten

FYI - I may be repeating myself as I continue, and I'm sorry about that but I'm trying to throw in strange little happenings that have remained in my damaged brain all these years.  
TBI is traumatic brain injury.

As you know, my little boy, Harrison, was in the back seat when the accident occurred. His sister Rachel was at Ms Judy's preschool at the time, and we didn't make it to pick her up. Ms. Judy phoned my friend Linda who knew immediately that something had gone wrong. I was to retrieve both of our kids, and ferry them, along with Harrison, to Linda’s house. When she got the call from Ms Judy, Linda quickly picked up the girls and waited to hear about me. But she kept the kids busy and happy until there was news. We were fortunate that Rachel had someplace not-too-out-of-the-ordinary to be, and good people to care for her.

But, let’s go back to the scene of the accident for a minute.  The one of the highway patrolman who responded to the accident, recognized my name, and because he was acquainted with my mother-in-law (don’t ask me how) he phoned her.  That’s some crazy stuff, because Southern California is quite populated.  

A strange thing happened at the hospital too. Amid the chaos at the accident scene, my purse was left in my car and I couldn't be identified.  But my next door neighbor worked in some capacity there, and identified me. She just happened to see me arrive!  I can only imagine her shock at seeing her next door neighbor strapped to a gurney, broken jaw agape.  As neighbors we were fairly friendly; they had been to our house for dinner, and us to their home. They had 2 daughters, and the older one actually baby sat for us. I remember her obligatory welcome home/get better soon when I returned home, but I don't remember seeing her again. 

TBIs are all different, not easily understood, and the unknown is frightening.  Well wishers hesitate when they learn a family member, or friend has suffered a TBI. Most people don't even have the rudimentary knowledge needed to ask relevant questions.  But that's OK, because the majority of TBI victims, their families and good friends are clueless too!  Unfortunately, often TBI victims are simply crossed off lists; friend lists, employment lists, family-members-to-invite lists, all kind of lists.  

Like favorite coaches from the past, Kyle brought out the best in me.  One session, an afternoon late into my stay at Northridge, they filmed Kyle and I working together.  The film was to be used in training sessions for physical therapists. We went through a sequence of events that were close to routine, and It was a wrap, after one take.  I wheeled myself back to my room using my feet, and good arm to get there. Not then, but much later, I realized that my physical therapist and I were Rehab Stars, and our video contribution would help the physical therapists working with the head injured and stroke victims that came after me. Now, I can count that as the first positive thing that came from my accident.

My Ex always said that I began to realize the crappy situation I was in when I arrived at Northridge Hospital. As they rolled my wheelchair by the mirrored wall next to the door, he saw me turn to look at myself, and when what I saw registered in my not-quite-right brain, a look of shock appeared on my face.  But, it was close to 1/2 year before I comprehended the dire position I was in, and the work it would take to become even close to the person I had been.

The photo my dad had put in my therapist Kyle's hands (the one of me hurdling, and probably winning,) showed that I could work hard.  But, I was now facing  an entirely different kind of hard work.  The hard work I did back then did lead to my induction into the Univ of Oregon Hall of Fame, primarily because my 400 meter hurdle school record, set in the early 90s, still stands.  I shocked my friends and family a couple of times by saying that the induction came because they felt sorry for me, because of my TBI.

The kind of hard work I was now facing would hopefully lead to 1) utilization of my paralyzed right hemisphere so that I could walk  2)  better cognitive skills so that I could continue running my household and 3)  acceptance of the new Me. 

I could have ended up in a wheelchair, or in some kind of a group home, had I not rallied to the challenge in front of me.  But I accepted it subconsciously as I have no memories of voicing my desire to work hard, to relearn what had been lost when I hit my head, and to come out of this a complete, contributing person, but it must have been somewhere in the scrambled grey matter.

While I was at Northridge lots of things happened.  My husband saw me daily.   My sister-in-law's elementary school class wrote me get well cards that papered my hospital room's walls, and I was ready for more visitors.  One visit stands out.  My husband brought my not-quite-5 year old daughter, Rachel, to visit and he simply set her on my bed beside me.  I think he probably said something like, It'll be OK, be back soon, but then he was gone. Rachel was in an unfamiliar, strange smelling place, with a dingy mom who was neither physically, or mentally capable of caring for her.  I remember being terrified!  Looking back, I guess I may not have been as dingy as I thought because I came up with, Is he a lunatic?  I was becoming better aware of my sad predicament, but I still did not comprehend what was in store for me, and my family.

Sitting next to me on my hospital bed, Rachel simply watched TV, and her Dad quickly returned with a Happy Meal.  She enjoyed her burger and fries, and I looked on, not realizing at the time, how the accident had traumatized her.