Crystal R. Gravitt
On December 10, 2010 I did the one thing I never do. I failed to put on a seatbelt. We were only driving 2 or 3 miles and I was in the backseat. I failed to anticipate another driver would turn across 4 lanes of traffic and I would hurtle forward, stopping only when my forehead made contact with the driver’s side headrest. How hard did I hit – well, I bent the steel posts that hold the headrest in place so pretty hard.
I had x-rays at the ER and was told I was fine except for the Klingon-sized lump covering my entire forehead so I went home. The black eyes started showing up the next day and by Monday morning I was more than a little scary looking. I had a meeting in TN with a new client and wanted more than anything to be at that meeting, so off I went with heavy-duty concealer and a big pair of sunglasses. The meeting went well and my new clients were wonderful, but they had to be wondering exactly what kind of disaster they had been handed off to.
It wasn’t until about 6 weeks later that I began to notice my forgetfulness seemed more than normal. I couldn’t read a paragraph without my mind wandering, my temper went from 0 to 60 in a second, and I just wasn’t myself. Thankfully, I didn’t have the headaches most seem to suffer from.
A neurologist, CT scan, Nuvigil at different doses, herbs, and finally a cognitive therapist that was probably the difference between me and disability all came in succession over the next year. The greatest frustration during this time came from the fact that no one can “see” a brain injury and I felt entirely alone in dealing with it. If I had a broken leg, perfect strangers would have fallen over themselves to open doors or offer help. Don’t think I didn’t consider wrapping my head in gauze just to get my point across. Victims of brain injury suffer an invisible illness and are, many times, misunderstood and not afforded the time and opportunity to recover because there’s no bruise or scar.
After the car accident I began to refer to “the old me” and “the new me” and I was really infuriated that Old Me went away- she rocked. I’m not the greatest fan of New Me yet- she has her shortcomings- but I’m trying to give her a chance and am hopeful that she’ll grow on me. This acceptance took over a year to start sinking in and trying to hide what was going on in my head from friends, family, colleagues, and even strangers took a significant toll.
mTBI is nothing to be ashamed of and it doesn’t discriminate. I did nothing to deserve this and deserve the opportunity to work through it in my own way, in my own time, without feeling like I’m inconveniencing the world. I’m gonna own this thing before it’s over, and it’s gonna answer to me, not the other way around.