Though they have become less vivid over the past year, I still occasionally have two flashes of memory from that day.
The first I am certain I have created in my mind, from the frequent stories of what happened to me that day – from the words of the other driver, the witness, what my family and boyfriend have relayed to me and what it says in the police report. I see a large, white truck barrelling towards me as I desperately attempt to cross the highway and get out of his damn way, because he is about to hit me and I know he is going too fast to stop.
The second, I am positive is not a creation of my imagination or based on what has been relayed to me. I know this is a real memory; though it is a moment that I would rather not remember. I am lying in a bed in a room I do not recognize, surrounded by a group of people I do not know. One of them is encouraging me to cough, while another pulls a long tube out of the back of my throat. I am coughing, I am vomiting, I am crying. I am wondering what the fuck is happening.
Over a year ago, on January 22nd, 2014, I was driving home from a long day at work, the first travel day of a two week stretch of travel that I was excited about because it meant time away from the office and the opportunity to visit various schools in cities across my province to talk about a well loved reading program. As I was crossing an intersection, I was t-boned by a truck travelling 90kms an hour.
I have no real recollection of the accident, despite the fact that I often picture the white truck. I vaguely recall leaving the mall where I had grabbed lunch and then I remember waking up in a hospital over 24 hours later, rousing from a medically induced coma days before anyone expected me to.
I have a brain injury. And, I still cringe writing those words to define myself because I have come to learn that brain injuries are one of the most misunderstood and invisible injuries in the world. I had a brain bleed in the frontal lobe, which has changed me in ways that are not always noticeable to people who do not know me well. I am lucky because I am defined as a 'high functioning' traumatic brain injury survivor. If a stranger has a conversation with me, they would never realize the things that I struggle with. I can walk, I can talk, I can do a lot of things that many people do not associate with the term brain injury.
I have not worked in over a year because my fatigue is so extreme that some days it is impossible for me to even imagine spending more than an hour or two outside of my house. I have issues with focus and concentration. To be honest, it has taken me literally months to actually write this all out, because every time I sit down to write, my mind struggles to stay on task. I only just started being able to read and even then, it often takes me hours to simply get through several pages. I am more prone to anger than I used to be. My emotions can get out of whack. I sometimes struggle with being in love with my boyfriend, trying to piece together what our relationship was like before the accident. I have issues with making decisions, self-monitoring and setting goals.
Though I do not want this blog to be strictly about my injury, I admit that it is so cathartic to put this out into the universe and I hope this will be a positive outlet for me as I recover and put myself back into place.
I am alive. And, I am writing this. And, I know there is a reason for all of that.
