Getting There

Friday marked five weeks since my accident. Alternatively, if you prefer, Monday, April 4, marked one month since the brain injury.

Over those five weeks, there were times when I honestly thought I’d reached my peak and would never feel like myself again. Interspersed were days when I felt pretty darn good. Most days I just dealt with whatever it was that happened to be bothering me that day, whether it was a headache, vertigo, virtually no concentration, or being excessively agitated. (Then there is the whole issue with numbers persistently tripping me up. I consistently invert numbers when I write them down, which isn’t great for work when trying to assign a page to students, but at least I’m aware that I do it now and my students are always more than elated to correct me.)

Perturbed by feeling so pissed off and sorry for myself all the time, I decided that at four weeks I was going to kick my brain injury’s butt. I also decided to give it a one-week grace period because late assignments should be accepted in a situation such as this. It was determined that at the five-week mark I’d get back onto the saddle. I stuck to this and showed my brain injury who was really in charge with a short ride on Dry Creek Trail. Of course, my road bike is still out of commission so my bike of choice was my Trek mountain bike, which saw dirt for the first time in nearly two years.

Having been advised to not ride alone when I was ready for my comeback (yeah, I’m calling it that), Chris was kind enough to meet me after work despite battling her own knee injury. I survived the ride and had only a couple of nervous moments.

Men's Pro/1/2 at the Turlock Lake Road Race

Saturday was a bit more unremarkable than Friday, but it was also my first day back behind the camera lens at a race. Thanks to Chris’s connections, we enjoyed full access to the course. We had a good time and snagged some good shots of the riders, but the day wasn’t all fun and games.

Unfortunately, a crash took out a couple of the women in the pro/1/2/3 group. They were taken by life flight to a nearby hospital with severe head injuries. I can’t help but worry about their condition even though I don’t know who they were. Five weeks ago, that was me, minus the helicopters, remote location, and actual element of racing. My thoughts go out to the women injured and hope they have a full and speedy recovery.

Now, back to me, since this is about me anyhow, I’m happy to report that I’m definitely feeling better even though my symptoms haven’t completely disappeared. I’m feeling confident enough to ride despite some pretty major skull discomfort wearing a helmet and look forward to hitting the road more often in the coming weeks.

See you out there! (Or some of you at least!)

Impatiently Building Momentum

It’s been four weeks since my accident and while things are moving very slowly in the recovery department, I think I may have had a bit of a psychological breakthrough a week ago after a tough first week back at work.

On March 26, I drove (yes, I drove!) up to Forestville with my friend, Chris, to meet up with some others for an evening of photography and stories from Scott Nydam of BMC Racing. 

I was a bit nervous meeting Scott, but the wine that I probably shouldn't have been drinking gave me courage to talk to him. It turns out that he's super nice and even asked how I was doing after my friend told him I'd recently suffered a brain injury. I’ve been following Scott’s racing career for a while and was heartbroken when it ended early due to repeated brain injuries. Last fall, Scott went to Rwanda to work with their national cycling team. He’s been sharing photos from his trip and the beauty of Rwanda frequently amazed me. Reading the stories of the riders, I was awestruck.  I'm now inspired by the work Scott is doing.

Fellow TBI survivor, Scott Nydam

Two things occurred to me during his presentation, the first of which is that in comparison to many others, my injuries are definitely on the mild side. However, each time I think about how lucky I am it scares me because this accident could have caused permanent damage (thanks again Giro!). Once I get back on the bike, I’ll be doing so with a great amount of trepidation, especially when it comes to descending because I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy and I certainly don’t want another similar injury.

The second thing is that in comparison to the lives of the guys on Team Rwanda, my life is easy peasy. These men have faced unimaginable horrors, and yet they continue to live their lives and follow their dreams. I feel that I have little right to complain and I should be doing more to help those who have real problems. Not that I’ll be going to Rwanda any time soon, but the thought has crossed my mind to find a local organization to work with. Perhaps I can find something regional for people with traumatic brain injuries…

However, my ability to help right now is extremely limited due to my injuries. As a teacher, each day I go into work hoping to make a difference for at least one student. And each day is a struggle trying to reach them. Now, due to my injuries, I feel that each day is a struggle for even basic communication, let alone inspiring a student to push his or herself a more.

I become agitated when I feel they don’t understand me and I question my clarity. I become even more agitated when I can’t understand them and I can sense that some of them are too (at least judging by an eyeroll I got when I had to ask a student three times to repeat what he said). If I can’t maintain patience with myself, how can I maintain it toward my students? The ability to stay calm and level headed in high stress situations has always been an enormous sense of pride with me. In fact, administrators have commended me for it. It kills me, daily, to know that I currently don’t possess that skill in the same manner as before.

Many people have reminded me to take my recovery day by day and I’ll get there, back to my old self. As a person that responds well to deadlines, I desperately want to know when that day will come and once again, it pisses me off not knowing. I’ve got things to do, people to help, and a world to change.