Trauma is an emotional response to a deeply disturbing or distressing event.  Trauma comes in numerous forms, and in various ways.  No one trauma experience is greater than another, just like no trauma experience is weaker.  Everyone’s reaction to a traumatic event is personal and unique.  Everyone’s traumatic response is different and cannot, and should not, be compared.  These tragic events can come from various types of abuse, war, or extreme circumstances. It can even come from listening to someone else’s horrific experiences. 

 Two words held the power to change my world forever.  To very small words changed my life instantaneously, shocked my world, and left me helplessly falling into an unknown abyss.  It is amazing how such complex creatures as humans, can be destroyed by the smallest of things, a virus, a molecule, two small words. Words, when spoken, have the power to build life or tear it down. Words, when delivered in an unfamiliar way can have a lasting effect. It may not be intentional, but words can be powerful and their delivery can leave a scar. 

The brain has an amazing way of linking memories and binding things together.  Traumatic events rewire these connections causing both confusion and anxiety to occur in overwhelming ways. The brain and the body are so connected and intertwined.  The body will remember trauma even if the brain decides to forget.   Trauma embeds itself into your body, into your mind, into your soul.  The brain links the mind with the traumatic event and causes negative cognitions to form.  The brain links it, the body remembers it, no matter how hard you try, these things are locked together in an unbreakable bond. 

On my journey, I have learned the power of the human mind, the power of emotions, the power of darkness, and the power of light. On January 24, 2022, I lost all hope in my life.  It was gone, I was left, everything was dark.   On March 9, 2022, my hope began to be restored and in the darkness, I began to see a small light, a glimmer of hope.  No one truly understands the impact their presence and words have on another person.  One cannot always comprehend how just being themselves can make a lasting impact and completely change a person’s life and rewrite their history.

This is my story, my journey, as honest and raw as I can allow it to be, because joy and pain can exist in the same situation, in the same moment, in the same circumstance.  My journey is filled with both joy and pain, love and hatred, optimism and pessimism and it is all wrapped together with the biggest ribbon of thankfulness and tied into a bow of amazement. I hope my story helps you in some way.  I hope it helps you understand PTSD, understand what it is like to live with a Traumatic Brain Injury, and gives you hope to move forward in the middle of your struggles.  I am still on this journey and always will be, but my steps have been radically changed and drastically guided with the love and support of wonderfully amazing people and the gentle, constant reminder that this is only temporary.

1

Dreams Shattered

It happened my senior year of college.  I went to Erskine College in Due West, SC.  I loved my school, the relationships, and  college time very much.  I was a Biology major and had my post graduation life all planned.  I planned to go to the Medical University of South Carolina to become a Physical Therapist.  The last thing I remember was the homecoming parade and that is vague. I was the senior class representative in the homecoming parade. The rest is cloudy and hazy.  The next thing I remember is laying in a hospital bed, unable to do anything more than moan and unable to move my appendages freely.  I was in so much pain, and I did not know why.  I am not sure how much time passed in between these two events or if I really could  fully comprehend what all happened.    I remember things two weeks before the incident and about 6 weeks after, maybe, I am not very sure.  I know what I was told and what my medical records say happened, and that is really all I know.

I worked at HealthSouth Rehabilitation Hospital in Florence,SC.   I was on my way to work early that morning when it happened. I was told I was hit by another driver, who was able to speed off after the incident  My parents were under the impression I had made it to work and were shocked to get the call hours later that I did not.  They were frantic and then received the call that I was in the hospital and about to undergo major surgery.  They were told it was critical and they must go to the hospital as quickly as they could.  I was told that my dad was the one who answered the phone and then fell to his knees crying.  My parents rushed to our local, rural hospital where doctors were fighting to save my life.  They were greeted by my tennis shoe, which was used to confirm my identity. 

 Apparently, once I was hit, I ended up in a ditch.  This occurred at 6:00 in the morning.  Thankfully, a lady was out having coffee on her porch and heard the entire thing.  This lady, who has always been unknown to me,  called 911 to get help and is one of the reasons I am alive today. I traveled the rural back roads to work, and since houses are spaced so far apart I owe my life to this mystery lady.  This is  another part of my story that I will never be convinced was a coincidence.  The ambulance came, they had to use the jaws of life to pry me out.

Once I got to Carolina Pines Hospital, a small facility with 116 beds. I was taken into emergency surgery and I was assessed and my physical trauma was addressed.  I was opened up, cut the entire length of my torso, from my sternum down, and examined.  I had lacerations to my left kidney and my liver.  My spleen had to be removed.  My leg was broken in three places, my pubic bone and pelvis broken in two places each, I broke 3 ribs, which punctured my left  lung causing it to collapse.  I broke my clavicle bone, and I received a traumatic brain injury to almost every lobe of my brain.   I was given 9 units of blood, because I had lost so much due to internal injuries. The doctors that treated me said that it was actually a miracle that I had survived.   My surgeon came out to speak to my parents about my situation.  He said the reason he was at the hospital was because he had a case that he wanted to look over and came back  to review it.  He said that if he had not been onsite, I would have died in the amount of time it took for him to drive there.  

Once stabilized,  I was then airlifted to the closest trauma center, which was  Richland Memorial Hospital  in Columbia,SC.  I received another 6 units of blood and was placed in a medically induced coma because my brain began swelling. The only thing I know is what others told me.  I never questioned anything until twenty years later, I didn’t even know how to or what to feel to ask questions.  By the time I received my medical records, only parts of them were still left, so some things I will  never know.  I am not sure how I feel about that.  Part of me wants to know every detail, and parts of me do not.  I am thankful for what medical records I was able to obtain.  They helped me tremendously understand parts of me I never explored.  They were also key in helping to determine the treatment that I needed.

I had trauma to my brain at every level in some form or fashion.  The car apparently hit on the driver’s side, causing me to violently fly to the right, my head to strike the door/ window on my left, jerk backwards and plant face down on the steering wheel. The doctors said it was as though someone shook me violently and stretched all my neurons causing them to break and others to be stretched like a great big bowl of spaghetti.  I will begin to list the parts of my brain that were affected and the resulting problems that were caused.  If you pay close attention to my movements and behaviors, you may just notice some of these slight deficits.  My right temporal lobe was damaged, which causes disturbance in auditory perception or understanding of spoken words, persistent talking, disturbance of attention to auditory input, disturbance of organization of verbal material, and disturbance of language comprehension, as well as, emotional regulation.  My parietal lobes were damaged, which causes disturbance of integration of different senses, difficulty locating words, difficulty with voluntary movements, and lack of awareness of certain body parts.   My Occipital lobe was damaged resulting in difficulty with visual recognition. My frontal lobe was damaged resulting in disturbances in movement of muscles for speech, abstract reasoning and executive functioning, and self regulation.  My Brain Stem and Cerebellum were also damaged causing difficulty with balance and equilibrium, difficulties with swallowing, and coordination of voluntary movements.  All of these things at some point in the last twenty years have been present, some have gotten better and some have gotten worse, but they are always there and I struggle with it every day.

When I woke up, I was so disoriented and scared. I didn’t know where I was or how I got there.  Why was there scars and casts on my body, why were  tubes sticking out of me, and why was I in so much pain?  My brain developed  many ideas and thoughts to explain what had put me at my current location and what I had endured to get there.  None of these ideas were accurate or made sense, yet I truly believed them. At first, instead of speaking, I mostly looked around not knowing my surroundings and not recognizing many people.   I had problems communicating, somewhat forming words and sounds that did not make sense when put together, and was practically not understandable. Then I switched to a time when I ‘spoke’ so much I barely stopped to breathe, and the words were jumbled together.   I remember trying to communicate what I was thinking and being quickly dismissed with things like, ‘honey you just need to get some rest’ or ‘that’s right, that’s right’. I got very upset that no one was listening to me. Sadly they  could not understand or know how to respond to my gibberish.

 I could not bear weight on my broken leg, which proved to be very difficult.  I had to rely on people for every single move and activity.  I could not do things at all for myself.  I even found it extremely difficult to grasp things.  I had no control of my upper body and definitely could not do any of my daily tasks such as bathing, toileting, or dressing.  When I needed to take a bath, I rang the bell.  When I needed to get dressed, I rang the bell.  When I needed to use the toilet, I rang the bell.  I was reliant on someone  constantly. This was very frustrating, especially when I had to wait so long  I would wet myself, or when I was tossed around just to get a job done.  The frustration turned to anger, which buried itself, then grew and burned in the depths of my soul.  I was so angry with myself.  I was barely comfortable being in my own skin. The anger buried itself deep within my soul in order to be forgotten, and would not resurface for twenty years.  That anger began to slowly fuel a self loathing that had begun when I was young.  When this anger began to bubble up, my brain would quiet it by telling it that it didn’t matter.  This caused the anger to slowly begin to brew.

I remember being so confused at what was going on, nothing made sense.  I felt trapped, but no idea who or what was trapping me.  I was paranoid, thinking everyone had a motive against me and everyone was watching me.  I remember the helplessness, that up to this point was the most helpless feeling I had ever experienced.  There was also such a feeling of loneliness, and I remember being in a room full of people and yet feeling alone.  Feelings of worthlessness and fear wrapped with strength and tenacity gripped me.  I could not comprehend, understand, or regulate all of these emotions at the same time because of my temporal lobe damage.  They were there, going so fast and so furious.  I just felt it, every moment I felt it.  The body has an amazing ability to store emotions and hold onto things that are related to specific events.  Though I did not remember these times, my body did, every struggle every moment, I felt it and my body held it.

It wasn’t long until the right  lung collapsed and I got pneumonia in the left lung, and a tube helped drain the fluid that began to pool there.  My parents were told  I would live the remainder of my life in a vegetative state.    My time at the hospital in Columbia was very challenging.  I am so grateful for how they saved my life, however, the bedside manner at that time was very little if at all existent. I was often moved or made to do things without being told.  Taking care of me was just a job that people did, and I was just supposed to go along with it not understanding what was happening.  I was not spoken to only spoken about.  Even though I couldn’t respond, it would have been nice to be told what was happening or just to be acknowledged as a human instead of being completely ignored.  I understand that people are so busy in those situations, but being kind only takes a moment.  This is a lesson I would hold closely throughout my life.

 When I was stable, I was transferred to HealthSouth for physical therapy before I was confined to a bed.  I had worked at this particular HealthSouth for 1.5 years,  and it was a place that was comforting and familiar.  This was actually the place that I was going when the accident occurred.  I began to recognize people, not recalling names, but knowing faces.  Everyone was so kind as I had always known them to be.  My case  was a very personal case. Each one worked hard with me, cheered for me when I was successful, and challenged me always. I had OT (occupational therapy) reaching for brightly colored therapy cones and practice with fine motor skills. I had PT (physical therapy) learning to sit and walking in the parallel bars. I had ST (speech therapy) having assessments like GOAT, MOCA, SLUMS, CLQT, and MMSE.  I also had linguistics and swallowing exercises.  I had a long recovery to learn how to walk and talk properly.  I also had to learn how to swallow and eat correctly.  It was also a challenge to think and do basic things.  Something I still work at to this day.  I have to think about everything, in every way.  Very few things happen without  thinking about it.  I am constantly thinking, in some way, all the time.  Thinking to eat, thinking to move, thinking to breathe.  Right or wrong, good or bad, constantly all the time.

   I continued to work hard and  improve.  Because of my injury, sometimes my body made movements that I didn’t tell it to. Usually just a quick jerk, and honestly if you didn’t know that I wasn’t telling my body to do it, you would not think anything about it.  However, I knew because I didn’t tell my body to do that.  I had developed sensation issues and synesthesia as well. Hearing smells and seeing in colors.  I also had a condition that I found out much later was Trigeminal, Occipital Neuropathy, which caused what I would later learn was focal seizures.   I also experienced cognitive issues with delayed processing skills and short term memory problems.  I had a constant chronic headache, difficulty breathing, and difficulty swallowing as well.  This was a time in my life I really saw the strength a human was capable of having. Many times I wanted to give up, but I was far too strong or stubborn to do that.  This was apparently a very traumatic experience that I never saw as such.  This was a struggle, but to me that was just life. Recognize the struggle, don’t recognize it, but just move on.  This struggle I live with to this day.   This struggle, however, would only partially prepare me for what was to come. The total fullness of this struggle and the emotions attached would soon explode with fury.