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.
"I just feel sometimes you make it into a big bad injury," she said.
I didn't say a word but my thoughts ran rampant. I was angry. I believed it was another example of someone close to me not understanding the difficulties that I go through. I started listing my deficits; the lack of focus, the impulsion, the irritability, the fatigue, the loss of two senses.
I also had a few other thoughts. Was she right? Do I focus too much on this injury? Has it consumed me? Does it define me?
After a few seconds I responded.
"I can't believe you just said that. It's just another example that no one could ever understand what I am going through. It hurts that I am all alone in this."
The next day Aimee and I went to see my doctor. As we talked, she told him that I am quick to tell people about my injury, about my deficiencies.
He said part of it may have to do with the impulsion that accompanies frontal lobe damage. He also said that it is common that people are unable to move on, incapable of looking at the positive and not the negative, and unwilling to accept the shortcomings.
After my consultation, I walked outside. Aimee was there by my side. I knew that what she had said the day before while walking Artie came partly out of frustration and partly out of necessity.
I focused on the negative before the fall and am doing the same now. Instead of allowing the injury to take over, I need to move on. This blog will change. I'm hoping that my mindset will follow.