This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.
Today has been a trying day for this recent victim of a brain injury. After a full night's sleep, I went to a park to throw the balll for my puppy; was yelled at by my wife when I removed the plastic helmet from my head and yelled at my mom who constantly had her fist in my back as I walked from the car. I tried to explain to my family that this was my battle. That walking from the car; to the toilet, were things I needed to relearn and perform with confidence. They told me that I needed to remember that they went through this with me, that they spent the last three weeks crying by my bedside, hoping things would turn out. I told them I agreed, but the focus needs to stay on me, on my rehabilitation, on the fact that I was the one in the coma, with the skull missing and the mishapen head. IT was my rehabiliatation that matters most. They didn't seem to agree. My mom wouldn't listen; my brother repeated that he had spent sleepness nights at my bed wiating for my to wake up and my wife told me she went through the same thing. Throw this on top of Doctor Lance Stone's unkind bedside manner and this rehab is taking its toll.