Blog Post 6 - symptoms, aftermath and What It takes next

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symptoms, aftermath and What It takes next

What has happened, and what’s to come? That can definitely feel uncertain and overwhelming without medical input and guidance, and without having experienced it yet.

For me, I came across so many new barriers and challenges that I hadn’t first experienced in my weeks in the hospital, or months prior in therapy.

This included increases in medication, whether it was type, quantity or dosage, as well as the breakthrough phenomenon of experiencing what are called acquired seizures and are pretty common amongst brain injury survivors. No, averaging one seizure per month like I eventually did doesn’t make you an epileptic. So, please do yourself a favor and seek out the services of a reputable neurologist, get a proper diagnosis and the necessary medication as needed. The last thing that you would want to do is end up in the hospital for a seizure! (like I did, but that was after having three in one day!) I’m lucky enough that most of mine have occurred while I was lying in bed or sitting in my wheelchair, so no harm done. I’ve only ever had one while standing, and while it put me on the ground, I luckily had two people with me that helped me back to my feet. I’ve also only had two seizures around people that were unfamiliar with the fact that I had them, and never in a crowd or group of people.

So, what else is coming? How about difficult questions without reliable or comforting answers?

Here’s one that I struggled with for years: can I leave behind the aching desire to return to my old life and abilities, and finally accept that this was my new life now, would be for years to come, and that I was now “hampered with these physical disabilities that always felt horrifyingly irreversible, no matter how much hard work I put into my therapy and frustration I felt over the years of waking up early, looking over to my left first thing and seeing my wheelchair there, waiting for my battered soul and body to enter it for another day of mental and emotional defeat.

Try this one on for size: How about, on top of everything else, you throw a communication disability on the top of everything else? Yes, my brain injury did just that! For some of you, this will likely mean aphasia. For me, I was dealt the dysarthria card.

According to Google, dysarthria is a motor-speech disorder resulting from muscle weakness or poor coordination affecting the muscles of the mouth, face, and throat, leading to slurred, slow, or muffled speech. It can manifest in various ways, such as speaking too softly, in a monotone, or with a breathy or harsh voice, and can also affect breathing, chewing, and swallowing.

Essentially, this means that, after my brain injury and initial surgery to remove a piece of my skull and reduce the brain swelling (craniectomy), I had intensive speech therapy to focus on speech articulation, relearning how to swallow solids and liquids, an ongoing form of therapy that I continued for years after to improve my speech articulation and impacted cognition.