*Sixteen Years Out! I'm a SURVIVOR* *TBI and ORTHOPAEDIC TRAUMA*
In August of 1998, I was 18 years old and on a camping trip at a local state park with a group of friends. We had just set up the tents and changed into swimsuits; I asked a friend of mine if he wanted to go jet-skiing at the small lake, which had a jet-ski rental service. I had been on one, at Cedar Point, the year before, and it had been a lot of fun. He declined, saying he had already gone that day; however, another guy in our group offered to take me. He siad he had a lot of experience, so I said yes.
We were on the lake, and the sun was setting. Many people were out on the lake that day, boating and on waverunners. I was singing a song in my head, by Queen, and as we headed toward the sinking sun, I was really enjoying myself.
The next thing I knew, I was in the water. I had swallowed a lot, and (I found out later) someone had jumped into the lake and pulled me up for air. I was confused…I looked around for my sunglasses, which had fallen off. I figured we rolled the jetski, and I fell off. This can happen if you let off of the gas and try to sit in the water. I looked for my friend; he was rubbing his jaw. I asked, “what happened?” and he said that a boat hit us. I then tried to get back on the jetski, which was floating nearby; only to discover my right leg was broken. I started yelling my thoughts; my leg was broken, I would have to go to the hospital to have it cast, where were my sunglasses. All sorts of things.
I looked at my friend; he looked at me. And then something very eerie happened; he stared very hard at me and said, “Don’t worry. Don’t freak out. It’s…just a scratch”. I touched my face, and blood came away on my hand. Things started to become very cold, and I floated listlessly in the water; my life jacket barely keeping me afloat (I had been given a child size).
Men came and pulled me onto a board. I had my eyes closed, but I was awake and could hear everything. They managed to haul me out of the water; I was freezing but I did not shake. They asked me who I was, my age, my phone number. Then I heard the helicopter and people shouting.
They lifted me in and I heard a woman’s voice, very urgent, seeking information. Who was I? What was my full name? What was my phone number? What was my address? Where are my parents?
_what’s your name?
_number?
_adress?
_name?
_number?
_name?
I answered each time, not understanding why she kept asking. Finally I yelled at her, “I already told you; next time, write it down!” Things dimmed, and the helicopter was loud.
The next thing I remember…I was awake, yet my eyes were closed. Men were lifting me onto a bed. I heard something frightening; it was a power drill. They were going to put my leg into traction with a bar. I believe they thought I was unconscious. They began to drill into the side of my knee, and I screamed. They said, “let’s take a break” and paused. I thought they were finsihed, but they weren’t. They drilled again and finished the job.
I was then in a dark hospital room, and my parents and sister were there; but I could not see anything. I was told that I broke my clavicle, femur, and every bone in my face. I had to sign a paper to let the doctor fix it. He said I could be blind. He said I migfht be paralyzed, that I might have internal injuries. He said I could refuse surgery or sign the paper. I signed.
My eyes, it turned out, were sewn shut. My jaw was wired shut. I had surgeries withibn the week. I had a blood transfusion, plates and screws in my face, a titanium rod in my leg, and a morphine pump. I drifted in and out of consciousness; my sister washed the blood from my hair and friends visited, but I do not remember much. At the end of the first week, I told my doctor I would be out in a week for my birthday. And he told me, “You have rehab. You’re going to be here a long time.”
The morphine made me itchy and gave me nightmares and hallucinations, when it finally let me sleep. My sister asked for a televison and VCR; she brought The Wedding Singer movie in and I watched it over and over again, trying to forget my problems and to escape.
At rehab, I couldn’t use the entire right side of my body, as it was all broken. I listened to the PT and took it seriously. Because I had, by some miracle, not sustained any internal injuries, spinal injuries, or neck injuries, I was considered to be doing well. I was put on the rehab floor, in a new room. My roommate was a quadepaelegic, so I quit feeling sorry for myself. My whole face was smashed, but at least I could scratch an itch. I kept at the rehab, and practiced hopping with a crutch and rolling in my wheelchair using one hand.
I was discharged the day before my birthday. I continued the therapy at home, but only had two sessions with the therapist, as she said I was doing very well because I did the exercises at home. Soon, I did them by myself.
I was not given any psych referral, nor was I told I had injured my brain. I found out several years later. While I didn’t know about my brain injury, I held a full-time job, married and went to University, where I graduated Summa Cum Laude.
I had, over the years, had emotional issues. It turns out, I had a brain injury and all of my chemicals were off balance. I sought the help of a psychiatrist, and now these issues have decreased. I also found out that I had cracked my pelvis, and no one had mentioned it. I found this out when I was 30 and was expecting my first child.
Now, I am happy and healthy. I have had years of psychiatric treatment as well as cognitive behavioral therapy. I functioned a long time (several years, actually) without any therapy, and I realize now I was only at 75%. I firmly believe keeping positive and seeking therapy will increase one’s happiness. Do not give up, and be a survivor!
