Eric Sredzinski

On March 30th, 2024, my life was forever changed. While doing something I loved, bicycling, I was t-boned by a car travelling 45mph. I have no memories of the day, or the 5 days that followed. My awakening was being extubated 6 days later and I learned about my 2 emergency abdominal surgeries for a lacerated liver, eye surgery, and the open reduction and internal fixation of 8 anterior and posterior right rib fractures. In 2 days, I will have my final surgery, a craniotomy, for my fractured left orbit, maxillary and sphenoid sinuses. My subdural and subarachnoid hemorrhages markedly improved as did my bi-lateral internal carotid and vertebral tears. The loss of frontal lobe tissue due to bilateral hemorrhages was permanent, but my helmet did wonders. And yes, I personally thanked them for their engineering that helped save my life.

So, my story of gratitude begins on that cool Saturday morning, although I don’t recall the events. I would like to explain my layers of gratitude, some things I have learned, and most importantly, the significance of my community.

So…., in no particular order, here are some of the things I’ve learned along the path I’ve traveled. Of note, sharing my own experiences are simply that, my experiences with no sense they should make a Hallmark card, or be highly debated. I do hope something will resonate.

Learn to embrace vulnerability

At an early age, I lived my life with a mantra of not asking for help. Not because I didn’t need it, because I often did, not because I could do everything myself, because I couldn’t, but because I didn’t want to ‘bother’ people. What I quickly found, but don’t remember, is the support provided to me on March 30th. The 911 callers, drivers and passengers in cars witnessed the accident, and the paramedics. I was, completely vulnerable and needed help. Similarly, it was my first shower, 16 days after my accident, was at Barrow Hospital with 3 nurses and my occupational therapist. Vulnerability, gone. A cleaner Eric, check. Individuals happy to help and grateful with my joy, yes.

Show me the evidence

I had my moments on this journey wondering if I would be a good husband, a capable pharmacist, or a supportive father. Through readings, I discovered the ‘who am I’ question is a something many TBI patients ask. In time, and with help from my neuropsychologist, she would continually ask me for evidence against my questions. Now, this one was hard, and it created confusion, but I now ask myself, is there evidence to say I am not a good, fill in the blank.

Practice acceptance

Early on after my accident, I accepted that I was going to get it wrong. Now, don’t misunderstand me, I was stubborn, scratch that, determined, and occasionally I didn’t listen. I wrote my own return-to-work letter 33 days after my hospital discharge, I felt it was solid. My rehab team however, they knew I was not ready. Feedback accepted! I also learned to accept the challenges with PT, even rolling over. Life is full of curve balls, I have learned to not be overly critical, impatient, or unkind to myself.

Kindness is important

Six days after my accident I was extubated, I was healthy enough to have the breathing tube removed and immediately after, I thanked the health care providers at Honor Health and shook their hands. During my return to driving exercises, my Occupational Therapist was able to add some fun to the driving simulator after my tests were done. ‘Rip it in the parking lot, do some doughnuts’, she said. ‘Roger’ I fired back as I hit the gas and turned the wheel on the simulator. Thank you goes a long way, even those doing their job, and small gestures matter.

Needs versus wants

I was able to get very, very clear on needs versus wants during this journey. My previous story on being extubated, I need to breathe. I have profoundly few needs and they all became evident during my injury. I would say most importantly, my health, community and love was most important. Paying attention to this one distinction keeps me conscious to the million little ways that my life is incredibly blessed. Plus, when I don’t get my way, or something breaks, or I can’t remember a series of 5 digits in descending order, life goes on. It’s almost never that important anyway.

I have now come to a place in my life where I know the hand of God is at work in what is unfolding, I don’t get to change my mind when what unfolds isn’t what I had planned. Or when it seems unpleasant. Or when I’m asked to bear something that seems unbearable. I quickly learned on this ‘trial’ that if I spend my energy asking, ‘this isn’t fair’ and judging what’s unfolding, then I won’t have enough energy and courage to be open to whatever lesson awaits me. Hopefully this made sense, and you found something valuable. All I can say is lean on those around you, listen to your inner voice, and be kind to yourself. My sincerest thank you to my best friend and wife, Linda, my community, my healthcare team, and those going through or supporting a loved one with a TBI.