Workshop Feedback
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The composition represents one group's experience of living after the effects of brain injury. Feeling that life is a big game*, and a Higher Power is playing us all, was identifiable for most members in the group. The large hand that holds a figure with a green shirt represents this quality directly. All of the other figures and compositional components represent aspects of Life's game. The person that is held by the large hand expresses the violent and suicidal feelings that have or still do cross peoples minds since injury. Not wanting to be alive after injury is common. This figure is also unable to speak the word he is thinking as brain damage can cause such cognitive deficits. One needs loving and compassionate support to assists the recovery process. Often times life can be very difficult and lonely. The figure in the bottom right corner, sits in the depths of a dark pit alone. He is isolated, afraid and sad. Dealing with the physical, emotional and social changes that brain injury can cause is overwhelming. These drastic changes can be devastating to accept and live with. Anger about abilities and skills lost can also be very frustrating and debilitating.
One can re-create themselves and their abilities and accept who and how they are now. Spirituality and god are important for most, yet each expresses his or her beliefs in different ways. The Star of David hold belief of Judaism, a religious belief that supports individual recovery process. The three stars hold meaning of Christianity along with the white chapel under the rainbow. The Dove of Peace, separates the night sky and the brightness of the day. The Enlighten One, the Buddha, is sitting peacefully upon a white cloud as he emanates peace and life to all. A rainbow descends from the cloud touching the two conversing on the bench. A dark cloud in the center of the sky contrasts the white cloud.
The scene is set beside a waterfall which rushes over a high cliff forming a small pond below. In the distance lie a great span of mountains representing strength. A person, without an injury or the ability to accept people with brain injury, stands in the distance, facing away from the people with brain injury. These others do not understand or have the ability to see beyond the noticeable differences of brain injury. They cannot see or hear the wisdom that lies deep within - beyond cognitive or physical deficits. Their un-acceptance leads to further separation for all. Two people, representing the common communication of relating that is necessary, sit next to the pond and share with one another. One speaks freely while the other listens. These two, brightly dressed, also represent that life can be good after injury. Many in the ADAPT group are content with their lives.
brain storming session of the workshop process.I was on my way home from Bubba's. I had stopped for some scurves, and to check out a leak on my bike at the Harley dealership. Being at Bubba's was one of the last things I remember before the accident.
I will have to rely on second hand information for just about every thing else, until I left Prince William Hospital.
I was involved in a hit-and-run accident. The ambulance driver said I was talking and coherent, and in fact, I wanted to see if my bike was damaged. We never knew who did it, but I have to believe that who ever did this to me will get it in the end.
My wife and daughter came to Prince William Hospital, and also my friend, Marty Reagan.
Upon admission I was found to have multiple trauma, blood in the lungs, multiple rib fractures, multiple contusions, a concussion, hemorrhaging, a fractured right humorous, a fracture pelvis, a fractured scapula, compression fracture of T7, and blood anemia. About one week later I suffered a stroke. I also had pneumonia, and a old while I was hospitalized.
I remained at Prince William for four weeks, when I was moved to Mount Vernon Hospital. I was heavily sedated at the time for pain. Morphine was my friend, but now I had to get off it. And Ganjei, who became my primary doctor, didn't waste any time.
I had dreams or hallucinations while I was on Morphine. It was hard to distinguish between the two.
With the morphine slowly leaving my body, I started to regain some of my dignity. Although not too much. I still had to wear a diaper, and couldn't control my bladder with any degree of certainty. I had trouble just walking, and I still had the stroke.
As it turned out the problem with my stroke was the more serious one. I had to start from scratch. I had to learn the alphabet all over again.
I had been doing complicated spread sheet, with multiple entries on the computer. It was quite a come-down for me. I was making more than $94, 000 when my accident occurred. It was lucky for me that I had good insurance or I would really have some huge doctor bills. It was run in excess of $500,000 and they aren't through yet.
At Mount Vernon, after the morphine subsided, I feel into what was to become my usual routine. Breakfast was at 8 am. I was not very good at dressing myself, and I usually had to be dressed by a therapist. One particular therapist, Irena, was washing my hands and apparently I didn't like how she was doing it, and I threw the washcloth at Irena. I have to plead "no contest" to that one.
Then after breakfast, I got some free time in which to take a nap. I slept alot. then at 10am I went down stairs for speech therapy, where I met Lisa. She was in training to become a speech therapist. Over the week, and months she was relentless in her effort to help me recover. And she turned out to be a good little therapist, too.
About this time I started to have severe back pains. It was diagnosed as muscle spasms, and so far have not gone away.
I then was off to occupational therapy, where I met Irena. By then I was usually too tire to do much, so I normally had a massage or else I played building blocks. Sometimes we went on a scavenger hunt.
I had to be wheeled everywhere in the wheelchair, so I had to wait forever. Then after I hid my lunch, I was free to take another nap until 2pm.
After that I went downstairs for physical therapy. That was when I met Barbara. She was the first therapist to get me out of the wheelchair. We went on long walks, played ball, walked down the stairs, played on the stair stepper, and just about anything else you could think of.
Then I was free for an hour until I had to go to another speech therapy. this speech therapy I call "therapy from hell". The therapist name was Ilene, and the work was excruciatingly hard. I think Lisa had made a deal with her that she would do all the dirty work. I would go to this room, and she would get some gloves on at the start trying to shape my mouth like an "o" or "a" or some other letter. It was the hardest thing to do at the time.
Then when I was finally through, I got to eat dinner. The food was relatively good. I was on a high cholesterol diet, so I normally just pigged out.
I need to tell you about the nurses. There were three full time nurses, and a pile of nurse aides and orderlies. I really did like every one of my nurses. From Julie, who helped me put up the Xmas tree, and would give me darvoset when I needed it, to Dave who did everything from change my diaper, to give me a bath. I remember one time when I had the hiccups so bad, and I couldn't get rid of them. Dave tried everything, and finally after about a week after the medication kicked in.
Then there was George. For the most part George was the one who Bathed me. It was nice to have a bath again. Before I left, I was doing everything on my own.
There was a lot more that I didn't mention. There was one who liked to kid around, who took my feeding tube out (and just about killed me in the process), one who had the distasteful task of helping with my regularity, and one who I didn't like at all.
Ali Gangie was my primary Dr. as an example of his dedication, he was lying awake one night, thinking about how to give me blood thinners without giving me another stroke. That is when he came up with Ticlid. It worked and I didn't have a stroke. I just can't say enough nice things about Dr. Gangei.
The Drs. at Prince William were just as nice, but I was on morphine most of the time, and was out. But if the truth be known, they were the ones who saved my life. They and the ambulance driver.
I was finally progressing, but at a snail's pace, or so it seemed to me.
When you're in the hospital everything seems to drag. The therapist's insisted that I was making progress, but it was very slow. It may be because of my stroke. But I couldn't read even one word of this journal when I started o I must be making some progress.
It had to happen sooner or later. I got a room mate. His name was Bob and if I had dot have a roommate, he was the one to have. He slept most of the time when he wasn't at therapy. But he liked to watch cartoons, "the Simpsons" much more than I. I do not like TV at all, and particularly I detest "the Simpsons". But other than that, he turned out to be a good roommate. He had had a drinking problem, and had totaled his car. He had broken his back in the accident, and had to wear a concoction that would last the rest of his life. It was tragic. the last I heard of him, he was living in a nursing home. I hope he can get "the Simpsons" on TV.
My friend, Don Finn, came to visit me in the hospital. It had been a long time since I had seen him. We were best friends in Corpus Christi, and we went to Abilene to see him on the way to Virginia Beach. They had visited us two times in the past, but he went way out of his way to see me, and I appreciate it. He has quite a story of his own. It seems he was herding cows with his student, (that was a no-no, especially with a student on board) and he had a flame-out in his f.g. at the same time, and he crashed. His student did not get out. Don was just mangled from the waist down. That was before I met him. By the time I met Don, he was playing basketball and handball, and swimming. He was a better racquetball player that I was. But I have no doubt that he will be in a wheelchair eventually. It will be a real shame, too. He went on to get a Ph.D. in Economics, and is tenured now.
At Thanksgiving I was allowed to go home. I had not been home for what seems to be eons, but it was only since my accident. It was fall and a pretty time of the year. I savored everything about the ride, event he bumps felt good to me. It was good to be finally at home, if only for a little while. I checked first to see how much damage was done to my Harley. It is nothing short of amazing that my Harley had only superficial scratches, and no damage that could not be repaired. I was happy about that.
When I was still at Prince, my sister Jane came to see my in the hospital. Jane didn't stay but two weeks, and I was not very good company.
They wanted to take a trip to the mountains, and come by DC on the way. So they got to kill two birds with one stone. my brother-in-law Jerry, drove me home. They had stayed four days, and had to leave for the mountains. It was just Marty, Becky, Christine, my nephew Joe, who lives in Alexandria, Regan, and Carol. I had ham, and before Jane left, she made me a pecan pie. It was delicious, after all the hospital food.
I watched the Cowboys on TV, and took a nap before I returned to the hospital. I was a tired little puppy.
I improved steadily, although I saw little day to day progress. One day Lisa came into my room, and stuck pictures all over it. They were just common everyday pictures, and she used them for helping me re-learn the alphabet.
After the big day, I was a little let down. Julie, my nurse, asked if I could help with the Xmas tree. We couldn't read the direction on the box, so we had to get someone to read them for us. They had no trouble at all. So much for my engineering degree. But I always had trouble if there was more than on moving part.
Almost one week after I left Prince William, Drs., nurses, therapists, my caseworker, Joe, Marty, Regan and Carol all had a meeting. I was too sick to go. At that meeting Dr. Gangei laid out the plan for my recovery.
I was getting ready for the "therapy from hell". Thanks to Barbara, I no longer had to take my wheelchair everywhere I went, so that gave me a certain degree of freedom. I was just about to get my chart, when I bumped into another therapist, who just mentioned in passing "I hear you're going home soon." I said that's news to me. Then I got chart and proceeded on with Ilene to therapy. Then it hit me. I was going home. I tried to confirm it, but there were no nurses around. Then I asked Ilene to make a phone call for me. I called Carol, and she could not believe it. For some reason we hadn't talked about when we were going home. But we were scheduled for another team meeting on Thursday, and Carol was going to ask about that. I was pretty emotional at the time, so I couldn't keep from crying. By the time I got back from the "therapy from hell", Julie was back and confirmed it. Was I happy, or what. I was on cloud nine.
On Wednesday they threw a surprise party for me. They had cookies and punch, and all my therapists were there. I don't know how they all got together at the same time, but they did. That meant alot to me. Regan happened to stop by, and had some chocolates for them that carol had sent, so I didn't go home empty handed. I don't think they do that for all the patients, so I felt especially honored.
The meeting on Thursday was somewhat anticlimactic, although they could not say for sure that Dr. Gangei would let me go. They therapists all said I was ready to go home, and Dave, my nurse, said it was all right, and Dr. Gangei gave the final OK.
It was hard saying good-bye to all my friends, particularly Lisa, Barbara, Irena, Julie, and Dave. I still see them from time to time, and I hope I never will lose touch with them.
I was accompanied out of the hospital by my brother, Erik, who came all the way from Texas to see me, and my wife and Regan.
It would be an understatement to say that I was happy. It was like I had been dreaming and I was finally waking up. It had been since my accident, that I was able to wear street clothes, and I didn't waste any time putting on some jeans. I rode home in my Harley jacket.
It was great to be home. I went for long rides with my brother, and went to Bob Evans for sausage, although I had to stand up most of the time because of my back spasms.
I tried going to therapy, but I couldn't because of my back pain. By the time I go to therapy, I would have back spasms so bad, it was no use to go. So we settled on home therapy. Champus would cover the cost with limits, so we didn't have to go anywhere.
While in both hospitals, I had the most vivid dreams I have ever had. They were in Technicolor and were three dimensional. I remember one in which I was alone way out west, and I was at a Roy Roger, but it was fixed up with a hospital bed. Then I remember another one in which I was at some place, I don't know where, but I was in a hospital, and I was staying over night. Carol was there and somebody, I think Regan. I can't recall all we were discussing, but I think Joe NeSmith, my boss, and Dottie, his wife, were present. They came a lot when I was at Prince William. I don't know if their daughter, Donna, was there or not, but she came alot too. I can only remember little bits of information form my dreams.
My dreams were partly real, and partly morphine induced, because I quit having them as soon I got off the morphine. I remember one which my sister Billie was here, and she kept putting ice on me. It felt good so when I asked for more, Billie gave me more. I had brain swelling from the accident and Carol was afraid I would get pneumonia. I had already had it once, and that was enough. But I was not aware enough to know that. Carol apologized all over herself, and so did Billie, but theirs was a strained relationship for awhile. Finally, Joe, my nephew, had to intervene before there was peace in the family. They are best friends now. That was an example of the surreal type of dreams I had while on morphine. They were real, but they were imaginary at the same time. I hope to get back to explore this phenomenon of dreams while taking morphine at a later date.
I digressed a little, but it was important to my journal that I not leave anything out.
After I settled on in-house therapy, I was to receive it two times per week. The first therapist was Patti, and she wanted to teach me to cook. I already know how to make eggs, grits, bacon, and toast, so I chose something familiar, and it turned out fine. She was an accomplished therapist, and I thought she was not going to work out for awhile.
We were going through the house looking for what we would do in case of fire. She pointed to a window, and indicated that I should go through that one. The only problem with that was, it was an outside window, and I would have had more bones broken that in the other accident. I would have to drop more than twenty five feet, and with unsure footing I would surely have broken my leg, and it could have been much worse.
Other than exercising a little poor judgment she was a good therapist, and I got to like her a lot. As a matter of fact she gave me a book called "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance.' I had already read it, but I only read the paperback version. I didn't even tell her I already read it. There wasn't much for an occupational therapist to do, so she wasn't around for very long.
Yesterday was the first anniversary of my accident. How do I feel about that? It is still hard. I still have back spasms, and I have to write with my left hand because my right arm was not set properly, and it is jerky and not very smooth. I have not gotten back to using my computer, but I am writing and doing a little math, and reading "The Old Man and the Sea." So I have to admit I have come a long way. But I was hanging by a string, so to speak, when they brought me in.
I came back from not being able to talk, and not being able to control my bowels to working out on the Nautilus machines at the rec center, and riding my Harley again.
You see, I kept thinking that one day I would wake up, and I would be healed. I never, in my wildest dreams, did I think it would take this long. But I soon found out that there was not going to be a miracle in this case, and I realized that I would have to gut it out.
The next therapist I saw was Ginger. She was older, and about ready to retire to a winery close to the Rappahannock River. She was trying to make my right hand work better, and that was a little painful. She has to stretch my hand and arm in order for it to do any good. But to compensate for it, she gave me a massage, although not the full body kind I had in mind. She also made a pulley for me to use when I worked out. We got to be close friends, and I really missed her.
The next therapist I saw was Deidra. She was my speech therapist, and I saw her the longest. In fact I just saw her on Friday for more than an hour. She was interviewing to find out if I would be eligible for any more therapy. It has been more than six weeks since I had any speech therapy, or any other for that matter.
A month has come and gone, and I still do not have any speech therapy. But Carol would not give up. She went all the way through a Lt. Col. Giabone and when she didn't get any satisfaction, she went up on Capitol Hill, and lobbied with Mike Parker, who was sympathetic to our cause, and also a friend of her brothers. But that wasn't all she did. Because she knew that she had not gotten any therapy, so she just started a letter-writing campaign, and she must have written to everyone, including to Lt. Col, and Mike Parker. She was very nice in saying she still had no therapy. she was getting to be an expert at writing business letters. Now, you have to realize where she was coming from in order to appreciate it. I will have much to say about this in my journal in later chapters. But, suffice it to say, it has been more than simply an awaking. She couldn't even drive on the beltway when I had the accident, and now she is lobbying congress, and fighting on behalf of my Champus entitlements. You might say "she's come a long way baby." I don't even know for sure, when or if, my speech therapy will continue, but I know it will if Carol has anything to do with it.
So far it has been three months. But who's counting.
Deidra took it a step beyond. She was a professional in every sense of the word. I use to take it outside, and do my worth on the deck. Then I had Lynn for physical therapy, she was a good therapist, and she did a good bit to help me with training and aerobics. About that same time, I had fallen on my Harley, and broken my collar bone again. Although it was only a hair line crack, it was a set back for me. I was starting to get a little paranoid, to say the least. But I got through the accident with just a little soreness.
Lynn's husband is a preacher, and a pretty good one at that. We go to hear him occasionally, when he has the sermon. He is young, so he has a long way to go before he really matures, but I think he will be a good preacher someday.
She has stair children, four of them, and...
I was with my friends, they were driving to the grocery store with me. I was having a big seizure and they didn't know what to do. So they called 911. I went into the seizure and then went into the stroke. Then I was at the hospital and they said I had a blood clot in my brain. It's affected my ability to walk. I can't do alot of things with my arm. It happened, July 7, 1994. I was 20 years old. I was going to Sierra College in California, Rockville. I had a choice of staying at my mums or my dads and I took my dad's b/c he has better insurance.
What I did at high school is I started up wrestling when I was a sophomore. I really want to do it again but I don't think I can b/c of my disability. If I could affect other's strongly I would tell them to be supportive to other people. All people and especially with people w/ disability. They need to think they are in the same program. I think everybody is equal and should be treated as equal. I haven't changed alot. I think I am loosing memory piece by piece. I can't think in a long term memory. I have delayed memory. I had heart surgery when I was three years old in Thailand. I want to hit something that won't hurt me or another person. I went to a psychologist. We had a punching mit, it was soft and all. We used to hit this, my brother and I because we were angry at each other. We did this when we were 7-8 years old. I would like to do this again. Maybe I will. I feel more tired than usual. It's hard to accept. I have more things to, b/c I more so slow. Everything moves so fast. I feel depressed alot sometimes. Once I felt I didn't want to be on this earth. I want to disappear. I don't have a religion. What am I going to do. I want to drive a car again. I have my drivers book, I have to study and then have the practice test. I want to start working again at Tower Records or Blockbusters. I think everybody should be working. I have the blockbuster application. But I know from ADAPT that I can quit this program.
I have alot more goals but I am unable to express them. I think my life stinks! because of my injury. It sucks so bad. It's not a positive thing to have. I don't like my life right now. It really pisses me off. If I do something to make myself happier, I won't be pissed off all the time. I should accept my disability. This whole thing is very depressing. I guess there is hope but I don't know where it will be.
I feel ungrateful for this whole thing happening. I am frustrated about the way my famiy communicates. My dad will take his anger out on me, if it was my step mom's accident. He will take it out on me. My family is terrible. I don't know if they trust me, and I don't care. I don't have any friends. Actually, I do have one. He's a real, real old friend of mine. I've known him for 8 years. He lives in California. He's in Hawaii now, going to University I'm herenow, stuck. My friends here at ADAPT are ok. I wnat to make new friends. It's just hard.
Strangers look at me whenever I walk. I don't know if they look down on me, but I feel like they do. They think that I am different.
Take it one day at a time.
I had a hemmorage to the brain. My mother found me in a seizure. The doctors told my mother if she would of waited until later to check on me like another ten minutes, she would of found me dead. It left me paralyzed. I was 11 months old.
I encourage people that try to get out of their wheelchairs and try to walk, but if they can't do it. I give them credit, because they tried.
My goals is going back to work. I always dream of being seizure free since I was small. Because I always had so many. Then I was seizure free for 3 years twice. Today I still want to be seizure free so I could drive. I used to have 8-10 seizures a day, over 4-5 seizures 4 times a week. I was havng over 100 seizures in a year. Sometimes I fall, I curl up, I tighten my hands and fists when I am having warnings. Sometimes I don't know I am even having them. It scares me sometimes, I have fallen down the stairs when I lived with my mother. I've cracked my head falling off of a bike while having a seizure. They tried me on alot of medicines, almost all I cannot take. One made me go into Liver failure. Another affect I had was that my mouth broke out inside the gums. They finally found one that cut the seizures in half. Now I'm like a roller coaster onthat one. They give me so much then they have to take me off because I'm going _______. I have to decide I want to have seizures or be toxic. They have put me down some and see if I want to stay here. I've been on this dose for 2-3 weeks now. I have gotten toxic occasionally. I get like a drunk person, I wobble around.
I appreciate life less b/c I am not able to use my right hand. And I'd rather use both hands. Even though I am thankful that I have my whole body. I have to walk with a brace.
I went to church and I believed in God. I haven't gone in a long time. I still believe in him......
I'm thankful for my grandfather that got me walking a little after 11 month.
When he went to work, he returned in 10 minutes. He began working with me to get me to walk b/c he couldn't stand the thought of me sitting and crying. I am thankful for my mother to take care of me since I was little.
The life history of Mr. James P. Roberts Jr. that I los my balance and my 20 20 vision. I was working 8 hours a day. I wa driving to every job I had thern all the sudden Mr. James P. Roberts Jr. MY life all the sudden changed my boss Dick Always had a reccmmened that I Eyes checked and A physical checkup The results put me in a hospital in Fairfax VA. this where I met my first neurologist he was Roger Snyder He did Eeg Ekg allot blood tests just to figure what really my blood stream then he did a frist of a series spinal taps 4 official spinal taps were. The rest of treatments were refered to Stanley Cohan. He got in Georgetown in Washington D.C. I talked Stanley Cohan Four months ago but MRI is the actual picture my own brain. the last results were negative I am lucky to survive I was treated through Penicillin 14 days THE lasst set of things pumped in my veins 41 days in two differt one was in Fairfax the other one was in Geoergetown only 4 days I was treated 41 days That rosethine this stuff pumped my veins
I had a car crider, May 7, 1994. My car crident was the rest the of too much to a drink in to reink and aruse mesersa-abuse.
It was resest of sased to drinking and driving onder to rininstored. I traveling to Richmond to my sister, Jean, my mother and father.
We get lunch tomorrow!
Batter up! Gents! You may need more room to provide your story! I don't understand why it happens or why it had little effect personally, but it did!
The most obvious changes are emotional and physical. I look at the original and see one thing. I look at the new revisions and see great progress but they are unrelated.
Since my injury, I have changed emotionally and physically. Emotionally, I have a definite attachment to the parts I adopted in the past in that I write small and then at a chain attachment to the past. The library book Batter Up! also left a giant impact on me!
Yesterday, at Nelson's, I had the ________ and coke. A giant lunch for habitat consumption! And for squirrels too! The squirrels around left getting
______................
I have no brain injury but I am aware.
The more I learn the less I find I knew.
Before my work I never opened my eyes.
The admiration I have for survivors at the will and spirit to achieve.
So many different people from all different backgrounds.
So many different inquiries
I see the unwillingness of change in society
The independence and the dependence
frustration and exceleration
The sharing and isolation of the people I work with and myself
The friends I made The friends I don't talk to anymore
Sometimes my job becomes so hard
All the time my job is the most completely satisfying and fun job
The looks we get amaze me
The distance away I have to keep a wall between
I lose myself in the people
Before suffering his stroke Phil was quite athletic participating in many sports activities throughout his life. He played football, baseball, track, weight lifting, and other sports but his favorite was basketball.He went to collage ona basketball scholarship. He won the most valuable player award in 1965. He was in the Marine Corps 1966-1968. We met in collage and were married in 1967 and have been married 28yrs. We have three daughters, Tonya, Laura, and Elana.
Phil developed his love for construction from his father and started doing ironwork while in collage.He worked as a union ironworker for 23 years. Phil's exceptional strength,courage,coordination and team effort were in his success as an ironworker.Phil walked narrow high steel beams,climbed disassembled cranes, placed and tied the reinforcing steel in many of the highrise buildings, tunnels, subways, bridges, and airports in the D.C. area. Phil was proud of his trade and loved to see a completed project. He still loves to show people the places he helped build.
Phil is a wonderful husband and father. He was shot down in the prime of his life by a sudden,severe hemmorhagic stroke. He was hospitalized for four months after his stroke very close to death with many complications. By some miracle he lived,I think in some way knowing he had me and his daughters who needed him.
The stroke left Phil with no speech,right sided paralysis and a severe seizure disorder. The paralysis is awful but the most devastating disability is the aphasia.The loss of speech can be compared to being locked in your body unable to express your needs, ideas, thoughts,or feelings. The isolation and depression with this disorder is horrible.
Speech therapy has helped his cognite ability but he has not regained his speech or ability to write. There is no known cure for his condition. However, new commputer technology has developed communication devices but unfortunately the cost is prohibitive for most patients.
Phil loves his yard, sitting outside whenever the weather permits. Usually his little poodle, "Potsie", whom Phil adors, is by his side. He likes to listen to the radio and drink coffee. Phil loves to eat and is very easy to please. Taking rides in the car is enjoyable especially when he can look at the pretty countryside or just watch the beauty of nature.
TODAY IS A GOOD DAY TO DIE
BEFORE MY WRECK I WAS THE LEADER OF MY CLAN OF FRIENDS WE WERE ALL OF THE SAME THOUGHT AND PURPOSE. I RAN MY OWN WELDING BIDNESS AND HAD A CREW THAT WOULD ASSEMBLE ALL SORTS OF MATERIAL HANDLING EQUIPMENT. AT LEAST I COULD MAKE A LIVING AND ENJOY THINGS THAT I ENJOY DOING SUCH AS CAMPING, HUNTING, FISHING, HIKING, DRINKING AND LISTENING TO ROCK'N ROLL. I ALSO OWNED 80 ACRES IN THE MOUNTAINS OF ARKANSAW WHERE I COULD ENJOY THE PEACE AND QUITE. RAISIN TWO KIDS AND HAVIN THEIR MOTHER FOR A LOVER MANY MANY YEARS WAS GREAT.
SO NOW THINGS SINCE JANUARY 9, 1988 ARE VERY DIFFERENT. I NO LONGER LIVE IN ARKANSAW. THE MEDICAL PEOPLE THERE COULD NOT DEAL NOR HANDLE MY SITUATION SO NOW I FIND MYSELF IN COLORADA WHERE THERE ARE FEW FRIENDS OR PEOPLE THAT I KNOW. I NOW HAVE LEARNED TO MEDITATE AND KNOW MY SPIRITUAL NAME. NO LONGER HAVE THE PROPERTY BUT NOW LIVE IN A BIG AS SHIT CITY WHICH FOR A COUNTYR BOY MAKES THINGS CROWDED AND UNCOMFORTABLE LEARNING TO DEAL WITH. I TRY TO GO OUT OF CITY TO GAIN THAT PEACE BUT OFTEN FIND IT COLDER THAN WHAT I'M USED TO. (JUST LEARNING TO DEAL) I AM NNOW LEARNING TO BE A COMPUTER ANALYST TECH SO THAT MAYBE I COULD MAKE MONEY AND GIT OFF OF SSI CHECKS AND BE ABLE TO CONTRIBUTE TO LIFE AS I KNEW IT.
I was born in July 26, 1960. I grew up just as million of other people did. I was very shy and withdrawn from society and tended to stick around my parents.
I was a star truely I was. In my school I was. But that ended quickly when I got to seventh grade. For the next two years of my life I was a complete nobody. Then camd high school where I was considered to be really good looking but I never did go out with anyone.
During my senior year I entered a George Mason U. and got in souly on my scores on the SAT test. Which were above average. So I went to George Mason U and during the _______ semester of my second year I had a car wreck. The results of that car wreck left me temporarily in a wheelchair but on the bright side it also enlightened me to a new hobby of writing poetry. I believe I am destined to become one of the all time greats in poetry. In 1995, this year I entered a poem of the year contest in feb. it made the final and I'm still awaiting word. All of this came from the head injury itself. I gained new insight into writing poetic phrase that made up poetry. Most of my poetry has been dealing with colors and shapes.
Love
But what is love
definition may be fine
But there are not any
comparisons may be nic
e
but there are not many
Love is like a free bird
flying higher
love is much more
than desire
love is friendship set on fire
Before my brain injury, I had 3 concussions. The first one was riding my horse fast. I fell off, BANG, and walked home from that one. The horse broke his leg. 2nd- I found a bike at the junk yard and put it together. I was riding to school. The front wheel popped off and I hit my head on the curb, trashed my bike and walked home from that one too. 3rd-my first car us boys bought together. We finally got it to work. One day going to work I got hit by a thick BANG on the side of the car. The car flipped upside down in the ditch. My second car I was in a wreck and broke my arm. My car folded up like tinfoil. I should be dead and buried.
My heart attack-I was working close to home in Virginia remodeling ahouse. I was up on a ladder all of a sudden I felt pain in my heart-big pain like a knife was stabbing me. I got down off the ladder to lay down. I recovered from that. On Christmas night I was with guests in the basement we were talking and fun then banjoooo- I felt pain again. We called the doctor and took me to the hospital that very night. They opened my heart up that evening and scared me to death. I came back. About a year after that I had a pain again, this time in my brain. I lost my mind then. I had anorexia of the brain. I forgot everything. Trust your doctors. Be sure to find out what it is, how to be better. What I would tell others-The first thing I would say is believe in God. Without God we're not here. And then follow your dreams. I want to build an electric fence for the president.
How I've changed-I want to do more for the world. To help people. I do not hate a single soul. I hated people before. I've stopped hating because I should be dead but I'm not dead. Why? Because God wanted me to do something for him. To save the world, make it better, cleaner. I should not lie, cheat, steal, fight or attempt to kill someone. If someone wants to fight-go away. I was recovering in PA a place called Laurel's a guy started fighting with me and I turned away. He got in trouble. I didn't. I took karate, fencing, sword fencing, I threw hand granades, I shot tommy machine guns and my boat killed a whale, accidentally but now I don't fight.
I really hate myself now. I don't see how to change my feelings. I just want to go back to September 15 and change my life. I tell myself I don't know if I would really bo doing the rigght thing. If I would never got into the accident. I don't know if I would be any better than I am right now-I might be an alcoholic or something. I mean I wasn't an alcoholic yet I would try to drink alot on the weekends. I started to stop all the sports I used to play. I started missing school to go to parties during the day, and get drunk. I would go back to school so messed up. The last few months all I was doing was thinking about drinking. I stopped hanging out with my friends from sports. I would just hang around the people that would party alot.
I look back I was so stupid I started drinking because of this girl. She was from New York. We just started hanging around her and her brother and her sister. She said it was really cool to get drunk. She said that the feeling was really cool so I just tried it. After I tried it once I just kept on drinking. I got hooked. I liked this girl and even though she had a boyfriend, me and her would mess around when we got drunk at the lake. Alcohol ruined my life pretty much.
I can't play the sports I used to play. I can't even have a good conversation anymore because of my speech. Now I don't even go to the beach. The beach used to be my life. It's all a game. Life is all a game. That's how I feel about life. You can either win or lose...and I lost.
Experimented with drugs and alcohol. Had 15 weeks of training for a job at EDS in ______. Making 15 bucks an hour. Now wear a uniform and a badge (no guns) security guard for about a year and 6 months before EDS. 3 years in Mich. and 3 years Ohio. lots of drinking, losed my job. Started CRC '89 for a year and a half. Moved to Va. started treatments a tests.
I wrecked a car in 1979 March 9th. It was followed by a eighteen week coma. I was driving and carrying one passenger. I somehow ran off the side of the road and into a tree where I then slid to the opposite side of traffic and got broadsided. During my coma I saw Jesus many times when my breathing stopped. Then my heart stopped completely at that point I was legally dead.
All I remember was seeing a man above six foot 4, the same height I am and relatively thin it must have been Jesus. The next thing I knew I was after four and a half months is that I was out of the coma. None of the doctors or the specialists including Doctor Neurosurgeon from a famous Georgetown Hospital wouldn't believe it. There was rejoicing and all hell broke loose and there was a party in my hospital room.
After I woke I went into Rehabilitation at seven hospitals over a span of two years. I didn't like any of them, they would just see what oyu could do and that was it. They would never move on into the real therapy so I'm were I am right now. ADAPT a total B.S. operation. I hope to walk in the 2000 and be the second coming or not. You see I do not know I really do not know it I am Christ or if I'm just dreaming but I guess that is supposed to be the way. I feel that my wreck was "believe it or not" a good thing that happen to me. It really cleared up some question for me.