Bumps In the Road
Chapter Fourteen
May 21
Larry was back to being argumentative, disagreeable, cantankerous, belligerent, self-centered and downright unpleasant. He also became even more unmotivated. If I didn't agree with him about something; he became very angry. He wouldn't discuss anything. He was very upset that he hadn't heard anything about the date for his Driving Assessment. It was another bump in the road. I e-mailed the ICBC therapist to let her know that he'd become very anxious about not hearing of a date for when he will be having the Assessment. She responded that she had heard nothing either.
June 9
Larry still had not got a date for his Assessment and was becoming angrier and more frustrated with each passing day. The ICBC therapist came to visit him and said, "I hear you've been getting a little bit cranky, Larry." She explained to him that things take time and he wasn't the only one waiting. She said that's bureaucracy.
Larry had earlier angrily called the ICBC coordinator and said he was going to drive the motorhonme to Kelowna on the first of July whether he had his license back or not. She told him she would make sure there were roadblocks up if he did. I began to wonder if they had slowed the process for him obtaining his license because of his high frustration and high irritability level as they did when they kept him in the hospital longer because of his poor behavior. I suggested to Larry that perhaps this was the case. I also suggested that they were not the ones to be having temper tantrums with because they were the ones who hold the powerr and determine when things are going to happen. He just became angrier with me.
During this period of time Larry continued to be very difficult. He was unable to contain his anger and frustration and took it out on me and the young grandchildren particularly. He seemed to be able to make an effort for other adults though. I tried talking to him in an effort to get him to attempt to contain his anger and frustrations but he always insisted that no fault lay with him, insisting instead that his problems were me, ICBC, the doctor or somebody else. He kept insisting that he didn't need an Assessment to get his license back; he knew how to use a clutch and a brake. I tried to explain that it was more than that; it was a cognitive test as well as a physical assessment. He insisted that if it took much longer, he'd drive anyway.
Summaries and Previews are available for my first fiction novel entitled "His Sins", a three generation family saga as well as for my first non-fiction book entitled "Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones)". My third book, 'Life's Challenges, A Short Story Collection' is also available. All of these books can be ordered through my blog or by e-mail at: writesylvia@shaw.ca or orders@trafford.com
Showing posts with label Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones). Show all posts
Monday, October 4, 2010
Preview II - Rollercoaster Ride
Doing Things His Way
Chapter Six
September 20
Today, thirty days after his accident, I arrived at the hospital and was told by his nurse that Larry had gotten out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He was not supposed to bear weight on one leg for eight weeks and on the other for twelve weeks. In his right leg he has a pin from his knee to his ankle running down the centre of his tibia and held in place with screws. In his left leg he has a plate holding his femur together with screws attaching the plate to the bone and screws holding the pieces of bone together in his knee.
"You know Larry," the nurse patiently explained, "you could injure yourself and end up having to spend more time in the hospital than you may otherwise have to. If you rebreak your leg you'll be back at square one again. The bone has to heal around the plate."
Larry agreed that he didn't want to be in the hospital longer than he had to be. I thought that was the end of the matter and presumably so did the nurses.
A few days later Larry was again caught walking down the hall with his bare butt hanging out of the back of his night shirt. This is the same man who was too embarrassed to be seen wearing shorts in the summer because he thought his legs were too thin. The nurse again said, "If the bone isn't given a chance to heal around the plate and the rod, it will require another operation. You're doing yourself damage."
But Larry is convinced that he can walk and insists he can go to the bathroom on his own. He doesn't listen to the nurses, the doctor or to me. "We'll just negotiate the time I have to stay off my leg," he told me.
"Larry," I said with a fair amount of exasperation, "some things can be negotiated but the healing of bones is not one of them; you'll just have to accept it. The healing process can't be hurried but it can be hindered and it definitelty can't be negotiated."
"Everything can be negotiated," he told me angrily.
They sent him for x-rays and decided that, as yet, he hadn't done any extensive damage. After his last escapade they put a monitor on his bed so that if he tries for another adventure, it will alert them. He was extremelty angry about the monitor.
"I wasn't walking in the hall," he later told me belligerently. "I was up on the roof and no one said anything about that. I spent the night up there and then they left me sitting in a wheelchair all morning. I met Todd at the railway station too and no one worried about that either."
He was becoming an increasingly difficult patient. One of the nurses told me it was for this reason that he wouldn't be going home because of how difficult he would be for me to handle. "You're wrecking it for yourself," I told him. "If you don't listen and do as you're told, you'll be staying in here a lot longer."
His only answer was an angry glare.
Chapter Six
September 20
Today, thirty days after his accident, I arrived at the hospital and was told by his nurse that Larry had gotten out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He was not supposed to bear weight on one leg for eight weeks and on the other for twelve weeks. In his right leg he has a pin from his knee to his ankle running down the centre of his tibia and held in place with screws. In his left leg he has a plate holding his femur together with screws attaching the plate to the bone and screws holding the pieces of bone together in his knee.
"You know Larry," the nurse patiently explained, "you could injure yourself and end up having to spend more time in the hospital than you may otherwise have to. If you rebreak your leg you'll be back at square one again. The bone has to heal around the plate."
Larry agreed that he didn't want to be in the hospital longer than he had to be. I thought that was the end of the matter and presumably so did the nurses.
A few days later Larry was again caught walking down the hall with his bare butt hanging out of the back of his night shirt. This is the same man who was too embarrassed to be seen wearing shorts in the summer because he thought his legs were too thin. The nurse again said, "If the bone isn't given a chance to heal around the plate and the rod, it will require another operation. You're doing yourself damage."
But Larry is convinced that he can walk and insists he can go to the bathroom on his own. He doesn't listen to the nurses, the doctor or to me. "We'll just negotiate the time I have to stay off my leg," he told me.
"Larry," I said with a fair amount of exasperation, "some things can be negotiated but the healing of bones is not one of them; you'll just have to accept it. The healing process can't be hurried but it can be hindered and it definitelty can't be negotiated."
"Everything can be negotiated," he told me angrily.
They sent him for x-rays and decided that, as yet, he hadn't done any extensive damage. After his last escapade they put a monitor on his bed so that if he tries for another adventure, it will alert them. He was extremelty angry about the monitor.
"I wasn't walking in the hall," he later told me belligerently. "I was up on the roof and no one said anything about that. I spent the night up there and then they left me sitting in a wheelchair all morning. I met Todd at the railway station too and no one worried about that either."
He was becoming an increasingly difficult patient. One of the nurses told me it was for this reason that he wouldn't be going home because of how difficult he would be for me to handle. "You're wrecking it for yourself," I told him. "If you don't listen and do as you're told, you'll be staying in here a lot longer."
His only answer was an angry glare.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Preview I - Rollercoaster Ride
Our First Day In Hell
Chapter I
Tuesday, August 22
I always felt that if something happened to anyone close to me, I would know. But I didn't until I received that life-altering phone call. It was the phone call no one ever wants to receive. I had waved goodbye to Larry from the doorway when he left on his motorcycle at 9:30 a.m. on August 22nd. I then went into the backyard to paint a lattice we were going to put around the hot tub to give us more privacy from the neighbors.
At 10:30 the friend he was supposed to be meeting at 10:00 a.m. phoned to say Larry had not arrived. A faint wave of apprehension washed over me but there was still no major premonition. I pushed the thread of uneasiness away. Maybe this was one of the rare times he was late. Maybe he had to stop somewhere first and got held up. Maybe traffic was bad. Maybe there was construction. There were many reasons why someone could be late; I knew them all. I tried to concentrate on my painting.
At 11:00 a.m. when his friend telephoned again, I could no longer ignore the uneasiness. Putting the brush down I tried to think of what to do. Should I drive the route I thought he might have taken? Maybe his motorcycle had broken down. Maybe he had run out of gas. I didn't try his cell because I knew he couldn't hear the ring above the noise of the motorcycle. I was still pondering the problem when the phone call came at 11:15 a.m.
"Hello, is this Sylvia? This is Karen. I'm the social worker at the Emergency at Royal Columbian Hospital." As soon as I heard 'Royal Columbian Hospital', I knew immediately that the call had to be very serious because anyone injured in Surrey would normally go to Surrey Memorial Hospital.
I broke down, barely able to speak. She said, "He's alive but it's very serious. Do you have someone who can drive you?"
"I think so." I was barely able to think coherently.
I called my daughter but she said that my grandson had just broken his leg and they had just returned from the hospital. "Oh Mom, I can't move him. He's in so much pain."
Unable to remember how to get to the hospital, I asked her for directions. My brain had literally turned to mush and any previous knowledge of how to get there had evaporated.
Unable to stop the floodgate of tears, I cried the whole way there, praying that Larry would be alive. Finally, after what seemed to be hours later I arrived at the parking lot but was completely stymied by the parking meter. With my non-functioning brain I had no idea how to use the machine to get a ticket. While tears continued to stream down my face I asked a young lady for assistance. Looking at me strangely, she explained and finally, with shaking hands, I managed to get my Visa card into the slot provided.
Karen, the social worker, met me in the Emergency and led me to a Family Room. "They are stabilizing him and then he'll be going for a CT scan. I'll let you know when you can see him. A doctor will come and speak to you and let you know the extent of his injuries."
Unable to speak, I could only nod.
With no one there until my children began to show up, my only company was the terrifying images that plagued my thoughts. I could not control my flood of tears and no matter how many times I brushed them aside, they continued to fall. It was like trying to contain water in a bag made of cloth. The half hour or so I sat alone in that room with my brain alternating between mush and the horrible images that cascaded through my head, my usually calm nature did not hold up very well.
Chapter I
Tuesday, August 22
I always felt that if something happened to anyone close to me, I would know. But I didn't until I received that life-altering phone call. It was the phone call no one ever wants to receive. I had waved goodbye to Larry from the doorway when he left on his motorcycle at 9:30 a.m. on August 22nd. I then went into the backyard to paint a lattice we were going to put around the hot tub to give us more privacy from the neighbors.
At 10:30 the friend he was supposed to be meeting at 10:00 a.m. phoned to say Larry had not arrived. A faint wave of apprehension washed over me but there was still no major premonition. I pushed the thread of uneasiness away. Maybe this was one of the rare times he was late. Maybe he had to stop somewhere first and got held up. Maybe traffic was bad. Maybe there was construction. There were many reasons why someone could be late; I knew them all. I tried to concentrate on my painting.
At 11:00 a.m. when his friend telephoned again, I could no longer ignore the uneasiness. Putting the brush down I tried to think of what to do. Should I drive the route I thought he might have taken? Maybe his motorcycle had broken down. Maybe he had run out of gas. I didn't try his cell because I knew he couldn't hear the ring above the noise of the motorcycle. I was still pondering the problem when the phone call came at 11:15 a.m.
"Hello, is this Sylvia? This is Karen. I'm the social worker at the Emergency at Royal Columbian Hospital." As soon as I heard 'Royal Columbian Hospital', I knew immediately that the call had to be very serious because anyone injured in Surrey would normally go to Surrey Memorial Hospital.
I broke down, barely able to speak. She said, "He's alive but it's very serious. Do you have someone who can drive you?"
"I think so." I was barely able to think coherently.
I called my daughter but she said that my grandson had just broken his leg and they had just returned from the hospital. "Oh Mom, I can't move him. He's in so much pain."
Unable to remember how to get to the hospital, I asked her for directions. My brain had literally turned to mush and any previous knowledge of how to get there had evaporated.
Unable to stop the floodgate of tears, I cried the whole way there, praying that Larry would be alive. Finally, after what seemed to be hours later I arrived at the parking lot but was completely stymied by the parking meter. With my non-functioning brain I had no idea how to use the machine to get a ticket. While tears continued to stream down my face I asked a young lady for assistance. Looking at me strangely, she explained and finally, with shaking hands, I managed to get my Visa card into the slot provided.
Karen, the social worker, met me in the Emergency and led me to a Family Room. "They are stabilizing him and then he'll be going for a CT scan. I'll let you know when you can see him. A doctor will come and speak to you and let you know the extent of his injuries."
Unable to speak, I could only nod.
With no one there until my children began to show up, my only company was the terrifying images that plagued my thoughts. I could not control my flood of tears and no matter how many times I brushed them aside, they continued to fall. It was like trying to contain water in a bag made of cloth. The half hour or so I sat alone in that room with my brain alternating between mush and the horrible images that cascaded through my head, my usually calm nature did not hold up very well.
Summary - Rollercoaster Ride
"Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones)" was written to tell the story of the first year following Sylvia's partner's serious motorcycle accident and subsequent brain injury. It was also written with the hope of assisting those who are experiencing a similar tragedy realize they are not alone.
It tells of those first terrible days when her partner was in a medically induced coma as a result of his sheared brain injury. No one could say what his prognosis would be. At this stage of an injury, no one knows what will happen because no two brain injuries are the same. Life looks bleak for family members during these early days.
When he came out of his coma at ten days post injury he suffered from retrograde amnesia; he had lost ten years of his memory. Even without such a devastating occurrence, there are monumental changes in the life of a brain injured survivor and his family.
"Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones)" will help readers learn that it is sometimes two steps forward and one back and that it is important not to take things personally when their brain injured loved ones become angry or verbally abusive. They will realize also the importance of setting boundaries for themselves and not to feel guilty if they wish time for themselves; or if they occasionally feel frustrated. After all, their life has changed also.
The first year following a brain injury is difficult. This is especially true when family members are battling cognitive and behavioral problems, frustration and anger management difficulties, confusion and short-term memory loss, perseveration, dependencies, possibly seizures, a change in personality, role changes and lack of motivation as well as other brain injury impairments. Depression and apathy are also often potential problems.
Included in the book are also sample cognitive exercises that the author used at an early stage in her partner’s development which helped immensely in his progress towards recovery. The author is convinced that the earlier these exercises can be instigated following a brain injury, the better chance of a more successful recovery there will be.
However, as the author points out, there will be many ‘bumps in the road’ along the way and as time goes on there are adaptations and adjustments that will be necessary to make if there is going to be a new life made. Life usually isn’t the same as it was before a brain injury; the brain injured survivor will have changed.
Any road that is not travelled alone makes the trip much easier. By reading "Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones)" the reader will realize that many others have travelled the road before them.
It tells of those first terrible days when her partner was in a medically induced coma as a result of his sheared brain injury. No one could say what his prognosis would be. At this stage of an injury, no one knows what will happen because no two brain injuries are the same. Life looks bleak for family members during these early days.
When he came out of his coma at ten days post injury he suffered from retrograde amnesia; he had lost ten years of his memory. Even without such a devastating occurrence, there are monumental changes in the life of a brain injured survivor and his family.
"Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones)" will help readers learn that it is sometimes two steps forward and one back and that it is important not to take things personally when their brain injured loved ones become angry or verbally abusive. They will realize also the importance of setting boundaries for themselves and not to feel guilty if they wish time for themselves; or if they occasionally feel frustrated. After all, their life has changed also.
The first year following a brain injury is difficult. This is especially true when family members are battling cognitive and behavioral problems, frustration and anger management difficulties, confusion and short-term memory loss, perseveration, dependencies, possibly seizures, a change in personality, role changes and lack of motivation as well as other brain injury impairments. Depression and apathy are also often potential problems.
Included in the book are also sample cognitive exercises that the author used at an early stage in her partner’s development which helped immensely in his progress towards recovery. The author is convinced that the earlier these exercises can be instigated following a brain injury, the better chance of a more successful recovery there will be.
However, as the author points out, there will be many ‘bumps in the road’ along the way and as time goes on there are adaptations and adjustments that will be necessary to make if there is going to be a new life made. Life usually isn’t the same as it was before a brain injury; the brain injured survivor will have changed.
Any road that is not travelled alone makes the trip much easier. By reading "Rollercoaster Ride With Brain Injury (For Loved Ones)" the reader will realize that many others have travelled the road before them.
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