Adult Life after a Traumatic Brain Injury

Boy, you've really had it! I'm so sorry; but thankful that God is helping you. I notice this was several years ago. How are you now?

I also remember when l first came home after my TH I l cried because l didn't know my house and that l had children. Then one day my therapist took me to the grocery store to see what l remembered. I cried because there were people around and it was to overwhelming. I didn't know how to do house work or cook. I also couldn't take hearing loud noise and too many people talking frightened.me. Then one day l was told l was strangling my daughter and l really didn't know what l did then l was sent to the mental hospital. And l can remember only one time being there. I guess it was the drugs l was given. Then l was discharged. Then everything after while seemed ok. I was reading doing math and my speech therapist helped me to do these things. Then once again something happened again l fell on an antique table and hit my head. I wanted to go home because when l hit my head we were to fly back home. My mother and l did and l was told l did something else l am not sure. I was told when we got off the plane they took me straight to the hospital and l kept calling my therapist name and she came and Then l was transferred to another mental hospital. I came back out and l was put on stronger antidepressants from 1997- 2014. I had another attack with my brain injury. Viral encephalitis first and then autoimmune encephalitis and all the things l was going through were symptoms of autoimmune encephalitis disease and at that time and still today doctors don't know about it and they think it's a mental problem when it's actually all the signs of autoimmune encephalitis disease. Then l had a 4hr test for memory and then a PET for dementia and they all came back normal. So l prayed Lord give me my memory back. I listened to music and watched wheel of fortune. When l read the bible or hear the preacher speak l couldn't comprehend or remember as soon as l got out the church. Now l can read and understand what l hear and not frightened of my surroundings but now in the times we are living in we have to be aware so that is normal. Now l haven't been driving for a year because they didn't know what was going on with me so l have to tell doctors go to about my illness and the symptoms but l am doing great and they can't believe it but God is not surprised. And just recently l read about 2 people who went through the same thing and were treated the same way and also placed in mental hospitals. So it takes time and lots of prayer. And don't be hard on yourself because all of this is normal and it will get better.

Would this be the group to discuss TBI?

Oh gosh, Rose, this happened to you only last Friday (a week ago)? How are you doing?

friday i tipped over in a golf cart staples plus temporary memory loss. i am going back to the doctor today due to problems breathing. i cannot imagine what you have gone through. the nurse tapped around the cuts to be sure i felt nothing. i am supposed to keep the staples in for two weeks. it sounds as if you had them taken out sooner. please keep in touch and let us know how you are doing. yes it is strange being in such a confused state. and as far as the two grabby friends, i would have words for them!

I sustained a TBI in 2014. I fell backwards fourteen feet onto a concrete slab. I was care-flighted to a local hospital. Fluid was leaking from my ears, my skull was cracked, and a piece of bone was missing from my skull.
They put eight staples in my scalp, prescribed me five medications, and sent me home within a few hours.
It was diagnosed as a Class/Grade (?) 3 TBI.
Very few things I can say I remember clearly after that. However, this I remember very clearly.
Within days, the medications they wrote sent me into anaphylactic shock. I could feel the itchy, tingling in my throat. I'd never felt that before. I remember trying to scratch the itch with my tongue. In minutes, it became harder and harder to breathe. I called three different people. No one answered. Finally, my father called back, and, as loud as I could (with my throat closing), with a rasp in my voice, I 'whisper screamed,'
"Dad. Don't panic, but I can't breathe."
"I'll call you right back."
I laid down on the living room floor, thinking, 'So, this is the day I die...'
Although it seemed like forever, within a minute, the phone rang. "I called Jim, Donna, and 911. SOMEONE is going to pick you up."
Donna is about five blocks away. Jim is across town, and the ambulance is further than Jim.
Jim beat them all.
On the way to the hospital, he's driving 85 MPH down city streets, weaving in and out of traffic, squealing the tires as he's turning left/left/right/left/right. I'm hanging on to the "Oh, S#!tter" handle, my eyes are swelling shut, I can see out of two little slits, and I say to him with my raspy whisper scream, "are you going to kill me on the WAY to the hospital?!"
To be fair, he did a good job. As he pulled up to the Emergency Room doors, I'm gasping for air, and I can only see blurry images. As he is leading me inside, I hear someone yell, "GET THE CRASH CART!"
I have no idea how long I was out. But I wake up to two of my friends fighting over who is going to inherit my stuff. (hahaha-No Joke. They Truly Did This. Sitting right in front of me.)
The ER nurse assigned to me comes over and says, as long as I am there, she may as well remove the staples from my scalp.
"Are you going to give me a local anesthetic?"
"Oh, don't worry," she says, "you'll just feel a little bit of pressure."
She YANKED out each staple, one by one.
I told her, "I'm going to give you a little bit of pressure!"

Now, I told you that story, to tell you this ..
Before the accident, if I told you I was going to be somewhere, if I told you I was going to do something, you could carve it in stone if you had a mind to.
I never wrote appointments down.
I never had a "schedule" to remind myself what to do, or when to do it.
My house was always spotless.
My bills were always on time.
I was in complete control of my emotions.
Hell, I was in complete control of my life.
After the accident, I remember getting a phone call.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at home. Where are you?"
"I'm where we said we would meet. And you're still at home??"
I was embarrassed, hot with anger, and I couldn't even remember that I had ever said that I would meet anyone, anywhere.
I didn't know who I was anymore, and all of a sudden, I was unsure of myself, and I was scared.
I was living with someone I had never met - ME.

...(more to come)...

I sustained a TBI in 2014. I fell backwards fourteen feet onto a concrete slab. I was care-flighted to a local hospital. Fluid was leaking from my ears, my skull was cracked, and a piece of bone was missing from my skull.
They put eight staples in my scalp, prescribed me five medications, and sent me home within a few hours.
It was diagnosed as a Class/Grade (?) 3 TBI.
Very few things I can say I remember clearly after that. However, this I remember very clearly.
Within days, the medications they wrote sent me into anaphylactic shock. I could feel the itchy, tingling in my throat. I'd never felt that before. I remember trying to scratch the itch with my tongue. In minutes, it became harder and harder to breathe. I called three different people. No one answered. Finally, my father called back, and, as loud as I could (with my throat closing), with a rasp in my voice, I 'whisper screamed,'
"Dad. Don't panic, but I can't breathe."
"I'll call you right back."
I laid down on the living room floor, thinking, 'So, this is the day I die...'
Although it seemed like forever, within a minute, the phone rang. "I called Jim, Donna, and 911. SOMEONE is going to pick you up."
Donna is about five blocks away. Jim is across town, and the ambulance is further than Jim.
Jim beat them all.
On the way to the hospital, he's driving 85 MPH down city streets, weaving in and out of traffic, squealing the tires as he's turning left/left/right/left/right. I'm hanging on to the "Oh, S#!tter" handle, my eyes are swelling shut, I can see out of two little slits, and I say to him with my raspy whisper scream, "are you going to kill me on the WAY to the hospital?!"
To be fair, he did a good job. As he pulled up to the Emergency Room doors, I'm gasping for air, and I can only see blurry images. As he is leading me inside, I hear someone yell, "GET THE CRASH CART!"
I have no idea how long I was out. But I wake up to two of my friends fighting over who is going to inherit my stuff. (hahaha-No Joke. They Truly Did This. Sitting right in front of me.)
The ER nurse assigned to me comes over and says, as long as I am there, she may as well remove the staples from my scalp.
"Are you going to give me a local anesthetic?"
"Oh, don't worry," she says, "you'll just feel a little bit of pressure."
She YANKED out each staple, one by one.
I told her, "I'm going to give you a little bit of pressure!"

Now, I told you that story, to tell you this ..
Before the accident, if I told you I was going to be somewhere, if I told you I was going to do something, you could carve it in stone if you had a mind to.
I never wrote appointments down.
I never had a "schedule" to remind myself what to do, or when to do it.
My house was always spotless.
My bills were always on time.
I was in complete control of my emotions.
Hell, I was in complete control of my life.
After the accident, I remember getting a phone call.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at home. Where are you?"
"I'm where we said we would meet. And you're still at home??"
I was embarrassed, hot with anger, and I couldn't even remember that I had ever said that I would meet anyone, anywhere.
I didn't know who I was anymore, and all of a sudden, I was unsure of myself, and I was scared.
I was living with someone I had never met - ME.

...(more to come)...