11/20/2006 We must have done something right. Terry has been accepted at the Centre for Neuroskills in Bakersfield. We leave right after Thanksgiving in a borrowed motorhome with two wonderful firefighter friends at the helm. I will pay for the gas but that’s the easy part. I finally have hope.
It’s time for a little philosophy. I know everyone is saddened by the changes in Terry. He’s not the same proud independent guy we remember and its hard. It takes me down at strange times– grocery stores, pieces of music on the radio, driving down the road–I try not to cry and to just put one foot in front of the other but more than that, I always come back.
I think I am an odd breed of cat and it helps me cope. From the time I was a little kid I can remember getting up every morning and thinking something wonderful would happen that day. I used to call it my butterfly feeling and it actually physically tickled in my chest like feathers or bubbles. I never lost it. Every day is new and special and wonderful things happen.
It may be just seeing something with new eyes, finding a penny on the ground, making someone smile or better–laugh out loud. I have my tattoo that says Hope is a Thing with Feathers (Emily Dickinson) and my featherbracelet to remind me too. Yes, I get down but I don’t stay down and you shouldn’t either. I appreciate all of you holding us up with your wings–I can feel the breeze from all my angels out there every single day.
To help you understand Traumatic Brain Injury and why I have to fight so hard to make sure Terry can stay at the Centre until he has made all the progress he can, I give you the following:
In America we expect to take a pill, get an operation, or apply a cast, bandage or something orthopedic and impersonal to fix people. We look for the magic bullet and the magic gun and we have a hard time understanding that with brain injury the magic is in the hearts, hands and heads of the people who understand how to help. The magic is the depth of education and study they go through to even begin to be able to help.
The brain is the last frontier, internal space rather than external, and I am so glad the Centre for Neuro Skills is full of intrepid “explorers and rocket scientists”, so to speak, who will help Terry back from his long dark journey. If it can be done I think they can do it.
With brain injury the only thing that can help is humans. Humans have to be the medical devices and their brains and hearts are tools of equal importance.
To help someone with TBI is like moving all the furniture in a house that’s been in an earthquake through a keyhole. When the helpers arrive, the lights are out most of the time in the house and even seeing into the windows is problematic. When the lights are on everyone moves fast and does as much as they can. Moving furniture this way is hard, and the owner of the house is exhausted by all the racket coming in the keyhole and he retires to sleep and get away from it frequently. The helpers know this, and they take the dark time to plan strategy for the minutes they have light because moving furniture in the dark through a keyhole is really hard.
As time goes by they help the owner of the house find the lamps one by one and get them turned on; whether it takes rewiring the fixture, putting in a new bulb or just turning the switch. That’s the assessment part. After the lights stay on most of the time they can peek in the keyhole and see the house is a mess. They have to go about figuring out how to pick up couches and chairs from where they were knocked over and it’s hard. Sometimes it can’t be done and they just have to go around the overturned furniture.
With luck and perseverance, the owner of the house can learn how to turn the key from the inside and open the door. When the door is opened, sometimes the helpers can help the owner go into other rooms and find furniture that will fit. It’s not the same but the couch works with the wallpaper so they go for it and it works out, a new couch is much better than no couch. At this point friends can come and sit on the couch and talk and find out how to go forward together.
With God’s help, time, and the help of a lot of human furniture movers who are seriously trained specialists in Keyhole Moving, Terry will have a house/brain that is a home again and you will all be there with us when he does come back to Olympia.
Keep those wings beating my angels–we love you all.
This was written just as we left for Bakersfield to begin the next Chapter of Terry’s story.