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Abstract
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I lived my entire adult life under the shadow of a severe traumatic brain injury. Imagine if I had the chance to go back in time to February 16, 1981--the date of my release from the hospital. What would I tell my 18-year-old self to prepare him for the decades to come?
I would tell him not to be afraid of what he will encounter. It is okay to feel loss and grief as he rediscovers the outside world. It is okay to feel like an alien in a place that seems both strange and familiar. It is okay to sit in a room by himself so that he could better manage his thoughts. Recovery is like a long road with many turns, valleys, and potholes. It will be hard to navigate.
I would tell him not to be too hard on himself. He does not need to pressure himself into living up to the reputation he had prior to his brain injury. Most people in the initial years will be more understanding than he may realize. I would say that he may want to step back more often so that he could experience the world with all its magic and wonder.
I would tell him not to be overly consumed with the loss of friendships that will come. He may not understand that the dynamics of childhood friendships--even among those without brain injuries--can and do change over time. The loss of friendships may not be a completely unique consequence of his neurologic condition. The challenges of life after brain injury may only hasten this normal life experience. I would say that the loss of friendships will unintentionally free up time so that he could devote his energies to rehabilitation and to the challenges of transitioning into adulthood. This will be a big step for any teenager; let alone someone who is struggling with any number of symptoms related to his brain injury, such as profound confusion or slurred speech.
Language: en |