How to celebrate my recovery

I think it's very important for recoverers to celebrate the wins from their recoveries: that's another thing that helps keep us going during dark days. There are two things I think are important to the way I celebrate my recovery:

• some time ago, my brother had the great idea of not doing anything on the 20th February, the anniversary of my accident, but on the 21st, the "anniversary" of my recovery and
• consistent with my thinking discussed in this 2008 post that the state of my recovery depends on what goals I've achieved, I make special emphasis on celebrating my recovery when I've done something cool.

Earlier this week, I had a special celebration on the evening of the 21st. It was the seventh anniversary of my recovery and, during the last couple of years, I achieved the two big goals I discussed here, completion of my Ironman and my Masters thesis. I went out with my parents for a special meal that night to celebrate.

For some reason, I felt like I had an extra reason to celebrate this year, it felt like I was ruling a line under my recovery. Of course, as I discussed in this post, I firmly believe my recovery will continue from here. However, eventually I think our lives and our recoveries become inseparable. That was what I reckon I was celebrating: I was ruling a line under my recovery by acknowledging that my life and my recovery had become inseparable. I'll continue thinking through this idea so, if I'm confusing you by referring to it, please hold on and look out for my further posts on the subject.

Cheers,
Mike

My recovery: it'll be over when I say it's over!

People often ask me something along the lines of, "How long did it take you to recover from your brain injury?"  I usually respond with, "My recovery isn't over yet: I still think I'm recovering now."  The natural follow up question is, when will your recovery be over?  Back in 2008, I wrote a verbose post on this blog, How Long Does TBI Recovery Take?  In it, I talked about the length of my recovery depending on what goals I set myself.  One activity recently reminded me of the concept, though: my running.

Running in the hills above Wellington city, New Zealand.

Using my running as an example, I want to explain my new answer to the question of when my recovery will be over: it'll be over when I say it's over!

I had my accident shortly before I was to reach my goal of racing Ironman triathlon in 2005.  Being a goal-focused person, I was desperate to build back up to it.  As I started running again, I quickly realised how physiologically complex the activity is to do.  Gradually, I relearnt how to control my muscles well enough, particularly those in my core, to run properly.  Eventually, I was running well enough to support my finally completing Ironman in March 2010.

Even through Ironman, though, I carried a number of running issues.  A key one was that my right quad muscle group would seem to run out of push after about 20-30 mins of running.  The issue wasn't bad enough to stop me doing Ironman: If I walked ten paces, it would come right and I could start running again.  However, I love my running and it was hindering my enjoyment of it.  Once I'd finished Ironman, I was keen to get it sorted out.

In the second half of last year, I restarted my recovery process: I saw physios, tried new things like yoga classes, stretching and muscle exercises and talked to lots of relevant people.  After about six months of trying stuff, I made a breakthough: I realised it wasn't my right quad muscles I needed to worry about, it was my right gluteus maximus (as well as another muscle close by, the gluteus medius).  For some reason, exercising those two made a big difference to my issue with my quad.  Although they haven't solved it completely, just yet, I think they'll allow me to run well enough to train for and complete off-road running events (as per my photo).  (Off-road running seems easier on my quad muscle issue.)

Since I built myself up for Ironman (twice!), you may be thinking I'm someone who likes big goals.  You'd be right!  In New Zealand, one big goal involving off-road running is the 60k (37.5mi) Kepler Challenge, following the Kepler Track in the South Island.  Guess what I'm aiming to be next November?  ;-)

Herein lies my idea.  There are things like running that I really want to enjoy.  It is up to me to do all I can to recover for them.  No matter how long it's been since my brain injury, my recovery will only ever end when I decide to stop working out how to recover more.  It'll only be over when I say it's over!

Cheers,

Mike

From theorising in my brain to theorising in my thesis!

I mentioned in an update in my last post that I had completed my Masters thesis.  I decided readers might well want to know more about how I found it so I've pulled together this post.

Me with the result of 21 months' work: a 300-page bound book.

The main word for how I found it: big!  My thesis started out as a simple question: what made New Zealanders use their debit card payment system, EFTPOS, so much more than Australians or the citizens of other countries used theirs?  Before my brain injury got in the way of things, I'd often pondered doing postgraduate study in economics.  Suddenly, I had an interesting research question to study.  Once this simple idea had germinated, however, it seemed nothing could stop it.  I found an economics professor in my hometown or Wellington willing to supervise my completing a Master of Arts By Thesis.  My thesis eventually became an 80,000+ word study of the economics of the development of retail payment systems in seven Western countries.

Although I started with the plan of finishing the thesis in only one year, it took me 21 months to put it to bed.  I was however very happy with the finished product.  (If you're really interested, the full thing can be downloaded from my university's research archive here, although I summarised it substantially in the context of New Zealand in this guest post for the NZ political blog, Kiwiblog.)  What was the greatest issue for getting my injured brain through thesis writing?  Well, it seems there were two: theorising about my idea in my brain and getting that theorising written down in my thesis.

In terms of theorising in my brain, some major things guided me forward.  When I think back over them now, they're remarkably consistent with ideas I've written about for TBI recovery.  I found it very useful simply to keep talking to the right people about my thesis and where I felt it was heading.  I also thought it important that I enjoyed myself, writing my thesis, and simply keep the faith that I would figure it out.  Did my brain injury slow me down as I thought my way through my work?  I think that's more than likely, but I was enjoying myself so don't feel like that mattered at all.  I just hung in there believing I would find the right way of thinking through my thesis.

As I had figured out parts of my work in my head, the next trick was writing them up in my thesis.  Once again, several things helped me considerably.  The two ideas listed above once more came in handy.  The art of writing well is not a simple one, however.  I think it helped me substantially to have practiced my writing on various blogs around, including on this one.  This is yet another thing that I think has parallels in brain injury recovery, which I outlined in this post, Get Into It!

Even before my brain injury, I think my thesis would have been a major bit of work.  How did I feel about trying to do it with a brain that didn't operate as well as it once did?  I just shrug my shoulders and think, oh well, at least I was still around to do it.  My brain injury could have been so much worse!

If you are a recoveree considering doing something big, I wholeheartedly encourage you to get stuck in and have a crack at it!  See your brain injury not as some insurmoutable obstacle, but as merely something to be managed.  Go for it!

Cheers,
Mike

Embarrassing stuff following a TBI: Google it!

(Please forgive the delay, but it's been a long while since I last posted.  I've been thinking about this post for some time, but haven't focused sufficiently to pull it together until now.  I regret that I've rather been distracted by a frustrating job search following my successful completion of my Masters thesis earlier this year.)

The brain seamlessly controls many, many things.  When we damage it, weird things can start to happen.  And we might not be comfortable talking about some of them.  They may in fact be down right embarrassing!  All is not lost, though.  There is one source of information that won't ask any questions about why you're researching stuff: Google!

Two embarrassing things have arisen during my recovery.  One of them I'm happy to talk about, but the other rates barely a mention.  That's because I remain too embarrassed to discuss it in such a public way.  (I'll leave you to guess from the first how I dealt/am dealing with the second!)  The first is that I (still!) have problems recognising people's faces and the second, that I have occasionally had problems with bladder control.

I am by nature a social person: being around friends and family matters hugely to me.  I find it very natural to be friendly with everyone, it feels energising to me.  I have absolutely no wish to be seen as unfriendly towards people.  Yet, an important part of being friendly is recognising people when you see them again.  If I've only met someone once or twice, though, this is the part I battle with: no matter how involved the conversation was, if I've only met someone the once, it's reasonably likely that I'll completely fail to remember who they are when I see them again.  (This issue is much more than just forgetting people's names, which I wrote a bit about here!)

For some, this might not be a major issue, but for me it definitely is.  Yet, how can I explain it to someone?  Even if I was comfortable with doing so, there would be only a very small number of specialists familiar with it in a small country like New Zealand.  I imagine many neurologists or brain injury specialists would look at it and say, show me a real problem.  To me, though, this is a real problem!

Google's not going to be worried about the seriousness of my problem.  If I input the keywords, brain problem recognising people, if faithfully reveals that I in fact have a condition called prosopagnosia.  Further searching reveals sites such as this one that say there is no formal treatment for the condition.  Sounds to me like an invitation for me to be determined to recover and think hard about how I might work around it.  When I meet someone, can I try remembering their hair colour and the facial features so I can remember them if I meet them again out of context?  With careful thought and a bit of research, surely it's up to me to work out how to recover!

Cheers,

Mike

TBI Recovery and a Higher Power

Recently, I’ve had many chats with a close friend recovering from a compulsive disorder.  While I won’t claim to understand everything he talks about, I am more than happy to chat through things with him and hope that my thoughts are in some way helpful.  Among the things I myself take from all our discussions are the parallels between recovery from his disorder and TBI recovery.

A major part of recovery for my friend is accepting a higher power can help us recover, but also learning to give up control to that power.  (Recovering alcoholics may know these as Steps Two and Three of the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.)  This may seem difficult to believe, but recoverers from compulsive disorders experience more control over their compulsions by wilfully giving up on having control!  That idea’s not a simple one –I think it took me some proper thinking to even start to get it – but please bear with me while I talk through what I think it shows for TBI recovery.

With this idea in mind, I thought through my TBI recovery and realised I’d touched on it in my post, Having Faith I Will Figure It Out.  In the post, I describe how I keep myself going by having faith that, sooner or later, I’ll work out a way of solving, or at least of significantly reducing, any problem I run into.  Sometimes I think me working it out comes from getting a sign – in the post, Listening to Your Body: Sweating and Cravings for Salt, I wrote about how I (eventually) realised one sign: my body was showing it was lacking salt by giving me cravings for salty foods.  Maybe my giving it up to a higher power is accepting that, whatever issue comes along, I’ll be given a sign about how best to deal with it.

On the question of fatalism versus freewill, I fall very much on the side of free-will: while I believe a greater power might give me a sign as to the right way, I believe it is entirely up to me to follow it.  Please let me know if you agree or have any thoughts about my attempting to reconcile fatalism and freewill for TBI recovery.

Furthermore, this is not a simple subject: like I said, I still think I’m figuring it out.  I also think it’s critical to the daily decisions we make in our recoveries.  Please feel free to comment on here if you any further questions on it.  If you’re wondering about something, no doubt others are, too.

Cheers,

Mike

The TBI Fingerprint

My own experiences with brain injury recently led my Mum into joining the Committee of the local brain injury association. One of the other Committee members discussed a good analogy for brain injuries and I thought I'd blog about it here.

The Committee member's analogy was, every brain injury is like a fingerprint. There's stuff in common with other brain injuries, but it's pretty much unique! No two brain injuries will be alike.

That idea might create issues for my readers. If every brain injury's unique, why should I bother reading about recovery ideas from a bloke who's only had one of them? After all, my fingerprint will be different to his.

Another thing is, it might make recoverers feel better or worse that their brain injury was more or less severe than someone else's. However, in Recovery from Any TBI, I say how I think, in terms of effects, there's little that sets any TBI apart. If I meet anyone with a TBI, I can be fairly confident that it's fundamentally changed their life. Every TBI's unique, but that doesn't take away from the effect of any one TBI.

What might be similar between recoverers, though, is attitude! Accordingly, the main goal I have when I blog is to help other recoverers find their own determination to recover!

Cheers,
Mike

As Good as It Gets

One recovery idea that I occasionally come across is the concern that, maybe, this is as good as it gets. This is a very understandable thing to worry about. Indeed, this is the very idea that a character with an obsessive-compulsive disorder played by Jack Nicohson battled against in a recent film of the same name. I find myself occasionally wondering about it, too.

A brain injury can cause all sorts of problems, problems that require such a different approach to things that used to be so easy, One can start to feel these problems are insurmountable; feel like there's no way "back to" the way you were before; there are no more improvements to be had. Basically, one can worry that this is as good as it gets!

I don't know about obsessive-compulsive disorder, but I do know a little of recovery from traumatic brain injury. While understandable, I think it a very dangerous thing to worry about. The brain is an immensely adaptable piece of equipment. Worrying that things won't get better almost flatly assumes the brain won't learn how to work around whatever problems it comes across. In my humble opinion, assuming that is almost as bad as ruling it out from ever happening. That is, if you want to learn to recover, start by believing that you are actually able to recover.

Yet, feeling this is as good as it gets is still very understandable; when I start thinking it, what do I do about it? Simple, I do my best to keep in mind specific areas of progress I have made, specific times when my brain has learnt about how to work around things. With that, I can convince myself that my brain can work around things. This is definitely not as good as it gets!

Cheers,
Mike

Having Faith I Will Figure It Out

In my most recent post, I talked about how I've relearnt heaps just by retrying an activity. I talked about trying to relearn it enough just to enjoy it again. Part of what guides me in that is having faith I will figure it out.

Of course, my injury has affected what I can do. I know what I enjoyed before my accident; unfortunately, I can't do all of it in the way I used to. I get into it, but it can be (very) frustrating as I often feel I'm starting from the beginning.

I can't give up hope, though. I try and think hard about what, specifically, I enjoyed about doing the activity. What will I need to relearn to start enjoying it that way again? Often, my constraints from my injury will mean I need to adopt a new approach. Is there an approach that will still allow me to enjoy the activity as I used to?

I guess, once again, my running's a good example of this. Like I said in my last post, I got into it, but then found the rate at which I was improving tailed off. It became more and more frustrating not feeling like I was making any sort of progress with it. What kept me going was having faith that, sooner or later, I would work it out.

I thought hard about what I needed to enjoy it: it wasn't the speed; it wasn't the hills or the views; it was the endorphins. Running properly was important to get those. In the end, I had to get some expert advice to help me do that from a physiotherapist who specialised in brain injury and running.

It's been quite a journey and, although not over yet, one big help along the way has been the faith that, eventually, I'd figure it out.

Cheers,
Mike

Get Into It!

It's been awhile, sorry guys. I hope everyones' recoveries have been progressing well! As I said in my post before Christmas '08, I've been thinking about a whole bunch of things on TBI recovery. Unfortunately, I've had a bit of trouble finding time to write about them. Apologies and please wish me luck for finding more time to write from here on.

I'm restarting posting with something relatively simple, Get Into It! Much of the progress I've made in a whole range of activities is due to one thing: just getting back into it.

For the great majority of things, even when I can do them properly, I can't do them nearly as well as I used to before my accident. I need to relearn them and, basically, I want to relearn them enough to enjoy doing them again. If I restart doing it at whatever level, that doesn't normally take too long.

It doesn't matter to me whether I enjoy it less than I used to. Of course, it's frustrating to have to restart learning it again, but only one thing's important to me, am I still enjoying it at some level or other? Maybe I'll one day have my old level of enjoyment back, but, right now, do I still like to do it?

Sometimes, I'll restart something, but have real trouble relearning it. That's when it becomes more important to find the right people to talk to. There must be someone around who can help me with whatever I want to relearn. It's just a matter of finding out who that is.

The best example I have that sets all of this out is my running. I had loved this before my accident; popping out somewhere interesting for a few hours' hard running; the views. the feeling of drive during it, the endorphins afterwards, it was a great feeling. My running afterwards was much less so.

Yet, I got into it and was making progress relearning it. Eventually, however, I stopped making progress and had real trouble with it. In the end, I saw a physiotherapist who specialises in brain injury and running. He made all the difference, improving my form out of all sight.

Even now, though, I'm not sure I enjoy it as much as I used to, but I love it enough to back out doing it again.

Cheers,
Mike

Keeping At It!

In the post, Breaking the 40 Hour Week Barrier, I showed an Excel graph of my return to a 40 hour week. I guess I'm fairly unusual and not everyone wants to get back to work as badly as me. Whatever your goal is, though, the message is, pay close attention to the progress you're making towards it.

I've often described how TBI recovery takes time! Sometimes it seems so slow, it's extraordinarily frustrating. I've learnt, though, if I pay close attention to what I'm working towards, I might well find I'm still making progress. It might not be happening fast, but, if I keep a record, I can see it's still happening.

Whatever my goal is, even when it's something funny, like talking properly again, I do my best to figure out a way to measure my progress towards it. There's no need to make some fancy graph, just to find some way to measure my progress. For example. to work on my voice, I might well try recording my voice at various points in time and, particularly when I'm feeling down, go back to earlier recordings to listen to my progress.

So I feel better if progress is being made. If no progress is happening, I still don't feel bad. I just think about new approaches. What else could I be doing to improve? Keeping track of my progress is a great way to keep my motivation up, to keep pushing forward.

Cheers,
Mike

P.S. For those interested in my experiences working on my voice, please have a read of my post, Another Approach to Therapy - Learning to Sing.

Tipping the Odds in My Favour

In my post, The Full Court Press, I talked about one approach I take to TBI recovery: if I'm having difficulty understanding a particular problem, I seek out the right specialist or therapist to help me with it. That approach means that, since my recovery from Post Traumatic Amnesia, I've benefited from the help of 22 different specialists, therapists and other trained medical people.

I guess that number might seem a little overboard, but that's not something I'm at all concerned about! Instead, I think of it as one way of tipping the odds in my favour. Tipping them away from my brain injury and its effects and back towards me and my recovery.

In the post, Have Hope!, I wrote about how, early on after my accident, the odds were stacked against me. Instead of being daunted by that, I've always seen it as a reason for taking every advantage I can. Even now, over three years on since my accident, I'm continually looking for ways to do things better. I guess it's part of the determination to recover.

My being determined to recover means I never give up; I never stop believing there's one more thing I could do to help me recover. All I have to do is think of it. Think about what exactly my current problems are and what might help me with them. Think about different ways I might tackle them. You guessed, I'm thinking about how to recover!

Cheers,
Mike

The Right Stuff

After my posts, At Least It Wasn't Worse!, You Can! and The Game is Still Wide Open!, you might now be picking up what I see as most important for TBI recovery - attitude. Conversations with Jason, the author of this TBI and spinal core injury blog, have led me to focus here on my view about attitude. In Tom Wolfe's book, The Right Stuff, test pilots and astronauts need it to succeed and survive. To recover well from TBI, I think people also need "the Right Stuff" and I define it here as being about attitude.

Being stubborn is a big part of the Right Stuff! Never accept any constraint from your TBI. Always believe you can and will recover well! Constantly look for doors to kick down!

Acceptance is another key part. Accept that you've had your injury and now things may be different. Know that you cannot kick down every door and be comfortable coping with constraints whenever you do come across them. I've written more about the concept of acceptance in another post, The Hardest Thing of Mike's TBI Recovery? Acceptance!

Over the top of that stubbornness and acceptance, the Right Stuff is about being positive: always look on the bright side of things. Don't bother worrying about the past, focus on the future.

Don't worry if you don't think you have one or more of these things. I don't think I developed complete acceptance of my TBI until over a year after my accident. I've written more about how I did so here. In this post, I'll say that I don't think it's ever too late to find the Right Stuff.

Some recoverers have great trouble accepting their injuries. The Right Stuff is extremely difficult for them to find. I've written this post not for them, but for people still thinking about their approach to their TBI. If this is you, please think about having the Right Stuff. Work on being positive and accepting while being as stubborn as all hell!

Cheers,
Mike

Proving People Wrong

Part Two of an Interview with Fellow TBI Recoverer, Johanna O’Connor – Her Sporting Achievements

This post obviously follows on from Part One of Johanna’s interview.

Johanna, can I now ask about how you returned to competitive sport?

After the accident, the doctors had said to me, with the damage I had to my shoulder and knees, I would not be able to swim or run again. After a month of being out of hospital, I went down to the pool- mainly to get me out of the house and stop me from going crazy. I started aqua jogging in the pool and cycling (on a simulator) to strength my legs.

Three months after the accident, I visited a knee surgeon. He explained to me that he could not operate yet as my legs where not strong enough, but he also made the fatal mistake of explaining to me that 'I could do no more damage than I already had done, so go out there and make the most of it'. This statement stuck with me. I also had time while I was sitting around, to think about what I had lost. I felt as though I had lost basically everything that I knew; my studies, my sport, my partner, my life.

So the very next day after seeing the surgeon I started training again (swimming, board paddling, and running) mainly for Surf Lifesaving competitions. I had previously been a pool swimmer doing 11+ pool sessions a week and had had an interest in Surf Lifesaving. That interest started just before I turned 19 when I was asked to compete at a New Zealand regional competition and after this competition was asked to be part of the New Zealand development squad. From there I socially competed in Surf Lifesaving. In February 2003, about six months before my accident, I was part of the NZ Under-23 team to represent New Zealand at the Tri Nations [Ed's note: This name refers to an event between the nations of New Zealand, Australia and South Africa]. This was my first NZ representative team.

What has your progress in the sport been like since your accident?

I trained hard and eight months after my accident was the trials for World Surf Lifesaving Championships, to be held in Italy in September 2004. At the New Zealand trials, I was the best performing woman. During those eight months, I had switched everything else in my life off and trained hard. Training is how I dealt with my emotional distress. It led to more physical pain, but dealing with that made me train harder still. It all definitely helped me to sleep at night without going through the hours of emotional distress of what life used to be like and the emotions of losing the first guy I ever loved.

I was named on the team to go to the World’s. My main event was the Surf Swim. I gained fourth place. At the time I was extremely disappointed about that, I only wanted first place. [Ed’s Note: Johanna may have been disappointed, but the rest of us are in awe of fourth place! This was, after all, the World Championships and it was less than twelve months after doctors had told her she would never swim again!]

Looking back on all I went through to get fourth place, though, I can honestly say I came a long way. I am happy with this thought, but now it has created the hunger in me to get that first place. Since then I have continued to perform and have now been on 8 New Zealand Representative teams. [Ed’s Note: Johanna most recently competed as part of the twelve-strong New Zealand team at the International Surf Challenge in Sydney, Australia in December, 2007.]

Your training must have been so difficult, especially at the beginning. What kept you going?

What started me off was depression!! I had lost everything I knew, I didn't get to go to my partner’s funeral, I was stuck on the couch with ankle to thigh leg braces on, I couldn't go anywhere. My life for the first few weeks of being at home was my room, bathroom, and lounge/kitchen. After sitting around for so long I was uncomfortable at how my body was changing- I used to be a thin, athletic person, and I was turning into (as my friend put it) a normal looking girl. All the things I had taken for granted like; standing up by myself, showering myself, and all the others e.g driving car, general walking etc. It was horrible - I was relying on other people all the time! I hated this. I wanted to do it when I wanted to and how I wanted to!

The doctors were telling me about not being able to swim or run again hit me hard - real hard. I could not handle it. Then came the knee surgeon’s words, 'You can't do any more damage...’. He also said I probably wouldn't be able to run till Feb, and we were in October. The very next day, I was training with the mentality, "I can't do any more damage". I tried to run and swim again. Swimming was painful. I went from before the accident doing 8-9km in 2hours, to swimming 1km in 40min's for the first week ,which built up to 2km in 1hour in the 2nd week and slowly progressed from there. [Ed’s note: If that swimming pace makes readers feel uncomfortable, I can assure them that, despite training, my own pace has never been anything close to that good! :-)]

Running: wow this was slow! I had no strength (I struggled to walk up stairs) but I slowly got faster over time. At the World’s in 2004, I was even managed to run in the beach running relay.

Training was extremely difficult; the pain was some times so intense. This would be from scar tissue stretching or knees failing on me or the continual shoulder pain or running 2 days after a piece of bone being removed from my hip to reconstruct my face, plus the many other operations I encountered. The pain is indescribable, but for the reasons explained, I pushed through, even though I couldn't walk after some sessions due to my knees giving out. Having a head injury helped me to concentrate on myself and getting myself better.

My head injury damaged my social ability and my reasoning, so I was stubborn, I would not listen to people telling me not to go training. My intolerance made it hard for me to deal with people. When people kept telling me I couldn't do this or that, I hated it I could do it and I would prove to them all that I could. So another reason I was able to push through the pain, was to prove to myself and the people around me that I was no push over, and once I realised I could do it I wanted to prove them all wrong, including myself.

When it comes down to it this was my second chance - the chance Jared never got. I had to make the most of it and get myself right.

Thanks for taking the time to talk to us, Johanna. Best of luck from us here at Howtorecover with your further adventures. We are very sure you will make the most of your second chance! Those readers interesting in hearing more of Johanna's story can start by trying this online newspaper article.

Another Chance at Life, Why Waste It?

Part One of an Interview with Fellow TBI Recoverer, Johanna O’Connor – Her Accident, Recovery and Overall Attitude

Johanna, can you start by telling us about your accident?

Ok, my accident:
I was a 20 year old university student and most of my friends were starting to turn 21. The first of my friends to have his 21st party was a good mate from high school. On 9 August, 2003, Jared, my boyfriend, and I went down to Hamilton for the party. We arrived about 3pm and headed out for a walk down River Road……

My next memory is my mother asking me if I wanted to put my running shoes on, as they had finally found the second shoe. This was on the 20th of August; I had been in an induced coma for 10 days and suffered multiple injuries.

Both Jared and I had been out walking; but, when I woke, I was the only one still alive. We had been hit by a car that swerved off the road and ran into us on the footpath.

Jared had been declared brain dead and was held on life support till his sister arrived back from Scotland. On the 11th August, the life support was turned off. His funeral was held on the 15th August, so I had missed this and still can not bring myself to watch the video of it.

Starting at the bottom of the body up, I dislocated my left knee and lost all the ligaments and cartilage in both knees, fractured my right hand and shoulder, dislocated my right shoulder, and I completely smashed a plate in my face (this is what nearly killed me). I also suffered from intense bleeding on the brain - leaving me with a very bad head injury. For the first 5 days out of my coma, I had no control and no recollection of anything that happened. As my family later explained to me, I was extremely honest and a wee bit crazy (in a funny way).

I was in hospital for three weeks. This was a very short time considering I was to be in the hospital for up to 6 months. My Mum is a nurse and could take care of me, plus I was determined to go home. It helped that I had amazing support from my friends and extended family. I think I ended up with over 100 soft toys and over 100 bunches of flowers. It was amazing!

I guess we should all be so amazed you even managed to survive. Yet you've astounded everyone by performing incredibly well at your sport. We’ll talk more about that in a moment, but can you tell us now about what guided you, overall, in your recovery?

With my head injury, my intolerance and stubbornness came out in a big way. I could not tolerate sitting on the couch, something I have never been used to. I felt as though I was wasting my life away, I had been given another chance at life, why waste it? I had always been a sporty, outdoors sort of person who would try and achieve everything I could. This was the only way I knew how to live.

Most normally, recoveries are about downs as well as ups. What are your regrets? God willing, it won't happen, but what would you do differently if you had your recovery again?

This is a very hard question, regrets..... I don't have any really. I have learned to live without regrets. If I am to look back on my life if I didn't make those mistakes I would not be the person I am today.

There are things, though, that I wish I could have done differently, but I would not call them regrets. I wish I had more control over my head injury and could tolerate things, especially my friends and family.
But I figured out it is always those that care about you the most that will take the time to understand what you are going through and will support you through it all.

The other thing I may change, is how far I pushed myself some days, but in saying that if I didn't push myself that far would I have gotten as far as I have today or got there as quickly I did?? I had to learn my limits and I guess I always tried to exceed them. Some days I would get a little further some days I would not.

You've already done so much amazing stuff already! Where will your recovery take you next?

Where will it take me...... I don't know, I wish to start my own business sometime soon. I want to travel the world (I'm half way there). There are so many things I want to do, I don't think my short life will allow me to achieve everything this world has to offer me. As for my sport, I have many years left in me, I still suffer from my injuries, with a number of operations still to come.

My recovery will be an ongoing thing, something I will always have to deal with. All I need to do is to take things day by day because tomorrow who knows what the world will bring.

The head injury I suffered from is not over, but there is no way I will let it stop me from living life to the fullest.

Part Two of our incredible interview with Johanna relates to her sporting achievements. It continues here.

Focusing on Tomorrow

Just last week, I met a guy living with the effects of motor neuron disease. Working with this disease is quite unlike recovering from a TBI. In many ways, I felt humbled in his presence - he was showing an incredible amount of grit and determination in dealing with his illness. However, I mentioned this blog and my quest to describe finding determination. I was lucky enough to get his and his partner's thoughts about it.

His partner described determination as not worrying about yesterday or today, but focusing on tomorrow. With a focus on tomorrow, why it happened yesterday is much less important - there's no getting caught up thinking about the if only's or blaming anyone or anything. And there's much less reason to worry about the effects of it today - there's no worrying about how one can no longer do what one once did.

Instead, a focus on tomorrow means a focus on how any situation can be improved - how stuff can be done better. Once that's decided, it's made so. Yet tomorrow is always shifting onwards so the game never ends and, while circumstances might change, there is always another day to focus on too.

The man's partner saw this as an accurate description of how he approached his illness. I would also like to think of it as a description of how I approach my TBI. Whether or not it describes my own approach, though, it seems another great way of describing what determination is. Perhaps everyone has a different way of finding determination and my search for describing it will not turn out how I meant it to. But I hope it will, at least, stimulate thinking for other recoverers.

Cheers,
Mike

You Can!

When I started this blog, I decided to focus only on what I had done, not on what I thought others could or should do. It's been easy to keep to that rule, but I'll break it for this one post. Rather than saying, I did this or I did that, for this post, I say, you should think about this. I do so because I see this subject as being one that was critical to my recovery and to the recoveries of many others - the determination to recover ... the determination to still be the best you can be ... the determination to say, I know I have constraints, but I'm going to push them as best I can - this is how I want it to be!

I see determination as distinct from motivation. A number of websites discuss a motivational problem common to TBI called adynamia. This website, for instance, discusses ways of coping with adynamia. I see it that, to be willing to try those ways, a recoverer (or perhaps their loved ones) must first have determination. In that way, determination is broader than motivation.

In my post about kicking down doors, I indicated that my own will to recover, my enjoyment of kicking down doors, came naturally to me. I don't quite know what to say to others to help them find their determination. Perhaps one might think about why they would like to recovery. Do they want to be better fathers, better husbands or just better people?

One thing that I want to make clear, though, is that you can! If Johanna's and my cases indicate anything, it's that you have the power to do your best with what you have after a TBI. And, by doing so, you might well find that what you still have is much larger than what you previously thought.

What happened to you was crap. It might well be that the only positive thing to say about it is, at least it wasn't worse. Now it's up to you to recover from it as best you can!

And you can!

Cheers,
Mike

Choosing Which Doors to Kick Down

A big part of kicking down doors is choosing the right ones to try to kick down. In describing what I mean by that, I'll tell you a little more of my story. My accident stopped me from entering one room I'd nearly been inside. At the time of it, I was about to race in the New Zealand Ironman Triathlon. Unfortunately, though, I was still very much in a coma at the time the race took place!

Once I recovered from my coma, I had two big issues preventing me from even thinking about trying that race once more - needing to learn to run again and problems breathing hard while exercising. My TBI caused the first and damage to my windpipe caused by the life-saving tracheostomy I had while in a coma caused the second.

For awhile, it seemed more than possible that I would never be able to do an Ironman. To stop me going bonkers because of that, I thought hard about why I'd wanted to do one in the first place. I quickly decided that I had wanted to do one because I wanted to push myself hard physically. So, really, the room I had wanted to enter wasn't actually the Ironman room, it was the pushing-yourself-hard-physically room!

Triathlons certainly aren't the only way of doing that. Many other ways involve neither running nor breathing hard - learning to rock-climb well is one such way. Although I might not physically be able to get in to one room, there's nothing stopping me thinking about what other rooms I am still able to break in to.

Eventually I learnt how to control my breathing by breathing smoothly - I kicked down the door to the able-to-exercise room! After that, it seemed more likely that I might one day do an Ironman. However, I still need to learn to run again even now. Ironman is still something I'd like to try and do, but there are all sorts of other rooms to go through before I get to try for the Ironman room - the ability-to-run-well room, for instance. By breaking down my big goal (doing Ironman) in to a series of smaller steps, I can make it a lot easier to get there in the end.

So that's what I mean when I say, choose which doors to kick down. The room you wanted to get in to might not actually be the right one. And, if it still is, there are very likely all sorts of other rooms you can enter to help you get there.

Cheers,
Mike

Kicking Down Doors

Time for a bit more combative language!

This is the second half of my answer to how I cope with the amount my diffuse TBI left me to work on. (The first half of the answer is here.) I cope because I actually quite enjoy 'kicking down doors'! Literally kicking down doors would be a great way of hurting yourself and so I mean this figuratively! 'Kicking down doors' is how I describe the process of learning strategies to work around the constraints of a TBI. That description sounds really boring and so I prefer just to say, I kick down doors!

My TBI felt like it closed doors to all sorts of rooms I wanted to get in to - I could no longer reach the goals I'd set myself prior to my accident. I found, though, by thinking carefully about my constraints, I could often work out a way to eventually reach those goals - I could still get in to those rooms. I just needed to kick down the door to do so!

One of the arts to kicking down doors is working out which doors to kick down. Some doors are going to be easier to kick down than others and trying to kick down the wrong one can leave you with a very sore leg! Because of the importance of choosing the right door, I've written another post about it here.

I said above that I enjoy kicking down doors. I'm not quite sure why I do - perhaps wondering why is a bit like wondering why I also like sweets. That's just the way it is. I do believe, though, that a very large part of my recovery is due to my being that way. In an effort to help others find within themselves a determination to kick down doors, I've written the post, You Can!

Cheers,
Mike