Immediately after your loved one has been involved in a serious accident, your brain doesn't want to think about what has happened. Then as you come to terms with it, you will have many questions. In the beginning, there are few answers because no one really knows. 'No two brain injuries are alike,' they tell you. Being told this doesn't help; you want answers. What do you do when life as you knew it changes? At this point you see no light at the end of the tunnel and you are not sure if there ever will be again.
I received our life-altering telephone call less than two hours after my partner had left our home on his motorcycle. It was a phone call no one ever wants to receive. Driving to the Emergency Ward, I cried copious amounts of tears and prayed as I tried to stem the flow. When I arrived, the Social Worker led me to an empty Family Room. I was told they were stabilizing him as he'd lost a lot of blood. She said he had many injuries as well as his brain injury and that a doctor would come and talk to me soon. Alone in the room, my only company were the terrifying images that plagued my thoughts until one by one my family began to arrive. During this terrible time, I realized how fortunate I was to have so many supporters.
When tragedy happens, and after you get over the initial shock, most people look for hope. They want confirmation that their loved one will get better; that things will go back to the way they were. Neither doctors nor nurses will guarantee how things will be in the future. In the beginning, with swelling in the brain and most often bleeding, it is difficult to judge the severity of a brain injury. There had been shearing of my partner's brain and I was told they would not know until he was walking and talking again.
During this period of time, I asked questions but realized that the more questions I asked, the more different opinions I received on both his injury as well as his recovery prognosis. Hope was not my constant companion during those early months.
After your loved one's injury, there will be many concerns. It will be necessary to express them so you can do the best you can in helping your family member become well again. I found most of the medical practitioners were approachable and willing to listen to my concerns and to help me find a solution. But I did have to ask the questions.
By two weeks after his accident, I knew our life had changed. He was now awake but with shock I realized he had lost ten years of his memory. The frightening thing was that we hadn't known each other ten years previously. But interestingly, because the brain is so amazing, most often he could tell me what my name was when asked.
With his increasingly longer periods of wakefulness came confusion and anger. Restraints were necessary. He went on tangents where what he said had no basis in reality. He had to have a sitter because he refused to do as he was told and continually attempted to pull out his tubes. There were many visitors he did not recognize; some had been friends for years. I brought pictures and items into the hospital that I thought might jog his memory. Some seemed to work, many didn't. About six weeks after his injury, he finally realized what year it was - mostly, I believe, from being told repeatedly. Thankfully he gradually improved and by the time he came home from the hospital, he was able to recall most things from that ten year memory loss.
There is no doubt that the first year is very difficult but bemoaning the tragedy will not make it go away. Trying to do the best you can for your loved one will help. One of the most important things I learned from my research during those early months was that the sooner after an injury a patient can do cognitive exercises, the better his prognosis for recovery will be. I tried daily to help him with these exercises; he was very often verbally abusive. I believe very strongly in the value of my insistence that he do those exercises and I give full credit to them as the reason my partner is doing as well as he is today. As a result, we discovered there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
Monday, March 23, 2009
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