I honestly don’t even know how to begin this post. I don’t have anything witty or funny to say or even a meme I could insert here to garner a quick laugh.

The past two weeks have really sucked. No other way to put it. I won’t sugar coat it. The only preface I’ll add is that I know I’m grateful to be alive and to have bucked the odds. I know I will be OK and somehow find my way to a new “normal”, whatever that is.

This month is supposedly a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) Awareness month. It’s a bit of an oxymoron. Anyone who’s suffered a TBI is fully aware of the changes their brain has undergone. I realize this is more about raising awareness for other people but I had to throw it in there.

Every day I’ aware of what my brain can’t do and what it can. What was once there is out in the abyss somewhere. When I reach for something with my left hand, I have to turn it sideways to maneuver my fingers in a way that I can grasp. My fine motor skills are not there-yet.

Yet is the definitive word here. At my OT appointments, I had several assessments done to gauge where I’m at cognitively. On the first couple, it took me nearly twice as long to complete as would a person with an unaffected brain. On another assessment, it took me nearly 35 minutes for basic activities such as naming animals, drawing a clock with a particular time, and consistently subtracting by increments of a certain number starting at 100. When she told me the results (that I had passed but that it took me far longer than normal), I cried. I want my brain back. I want normalcy back, I want school back.

School- that is the crux here. School in the spring is off the table. it’s clear that doing so maybe too much for my healing brain and actually set me back, which is not something I want to happen. Of course, the next question was Nursing School, which I was to begin in September after deferring a year for rehabilitation. I was told that perhaps I should start to “consider what else might bring me as much joy as nursing” in case my brain would not be able to handle the rigors of the program, which is intense. More tears. It was as though someone took the wind out of my sails.

It’s clear now that it is not, for this year. That’s not to say it won’t ever be but what she said next was that we would know more definitively at the two-year mark, what is potentially permanent versus what is not. Healing from a TBI takes time. A lot of time. So much so that they can still find measurable progress over the two-year mark. My math classes are all expiring and some of my other classes will as well. My CNA license will expire too. We moved down here away from family and friends so I could focus on school full time. It’s been my center of drive and focus for nearly three years now, going 100 mph to do my best and perform well. It was a gut punch to the stomach to even consider not entering in September let alone knowing I may never be able to due to ongoing cognitive deficits.

To throw another wrench into the fire, I was just diagnosed with type two diabetes. Apparently having a history of PCOS increased my risk of developing it. I had no idea. This site has good information on the connection. I’ve changed my diet up after discussing this with my doctor to assure a safe and sane approach and am so far losing slowly which is good. I’ve walked nearly two miles in the mornings and thrown in some yoga as I’m able. Post-stroke fatigue is a very real issue and has affected my stamina. I’m hoping over time I’ll be able to increase my activity level, slowly. Diabetes increases my risk for cardiovascular issues/ stroke but fortunately, my numbers are low so controlling it should not be too difficult. I feel OK about this part of things.

Speech therapy will begin in the next few weeks on top of the physical therapy and occupational therapy. It helps with executive function (think multitasking word recall etc). It’s a slow process that ebbs and flows. I will have moments of progress and moments of setbacks but have to be patient as my brain heals and finds it’s way back through the fog.

I am not hopeless, as dim as this post may feel. I’m always full of hope. What I am is heartbroken. Something I worked so hard for and struggled to get into, is (*potentially) off the table, certainly for this year. What I am is lost. I’ll find my way back- this is not a pity party or poor me post. I’ll make that clear now. It’s painful and I’m allowing my brain to process it’s way through all of this to again find my beacon of hope and drive. But part of that processing is also grieving, which is necessary. My head is not quite wrapped around this so it’s like a raw, open wound that is slowly healing as the air hits it. When you are still, the pain is tolerable but if you move and twist, its’ as though salt was rubbed in it. That’s how it feels when I think about it too hard right now. I take as many walks as I can, find humor and appreciation in things I love- every day and those things are, fortunately, abundant.

For now, I’m taking things one day, one appointment, one breath at a time. Somewhere out there is a light at the end of this long, winding tunnel and one way or another I’ll find my way to it.