7 Years Ago Today ... To Heaven and Back

Sometimes things happen in life not of our choosing and often making no sense at the time - if it ever makes sense. What I have learned first hand is that though it makes no sense - no matter if it is good or bad - everything in life happens for a reason.

Seven years ago today (October 28th, 2006) at 8:30 p.m. life as I had know it came to an end. That is when I was struck by a careless driver as I crossed the street to a friend's home for the celebration of another friend's birthday(you can read more here). Sometime between being struct and awakening from my coma 2-3 weeks before Christmas while my body lay mangled and broken my spirit returned home to heaven. I may not recall the accident - but I recall every moment of my journey and the beauty I saw and heard during my time in heaven (you can read more here)

I am still getting my bearings with this "new" life and trying to create a me that fits, but what I am more certain than ever is that I am meant to live a life of service, to help others who are struggling with change in their life. Despite all the odds of my survival from the doctors - I survived, and am not just existing - I'm THRIVING!!

So as of this year ~ I will no longer look at this date October 28th as an ending ... But instead as a BEGINNING ... Happy 7 years of Re-birth to me!!! 

To all the wonderful new visitors and regular readers of this blog know that no matter what life throws at you - IT WILL MAKE YOU STRONGER ... even when it all seems hopeless! I hope that I continue to inspire and motivate you to live  your best High Heeled Life! 

Hugs and Blessings,

Stay in Step with High Heeled Life ...

Keep it organized = to remember ...

Helping the Brain to help itself (and you)...

Everyone from time to time looks at the state of their bathroom drawers and cabinets and wonders "What tornado went through them". The answer is simple Tornado (fill in your name here) is a slow acting tornado, moving one or two things out of place at a time - only over time will you notice it has struck (most likely when you are in a hurry and can't find the tweezers to get the stray hair on your chin that appeared out-of-nowhere).

Once the realization occurs the aftermath of the clean up begins and before you know it all is good in the land of bathroom drawers and cabinets. However, if you are going through any emotional turmoil, anxiety or have experienced traumatic physical or brain injury; this otherwise mole hill becomes a huge Mont Blanc. So huge, rather than deal with it~ you stop opening the drawers and cabinets, because when you do, you can't recall what it was you needed from in there and frustration sets in.

For me it is very important that things are visually accessible, thus acting as  reminders for things such as tooth paste = brushing teeth; face cleanser = washing face etc. Sometimes without these visual reminders these simple everyday things can be easily overlooked (thankfully I have Mr. G who is great at asking about and reminding  me of these simple,basic things). 

Recently, it seemed that I was forgetting basic things ALL the time. Worried that things were getting worse with my brain [due to brain injury] I discussed the concerns with a close friend. When we went upstairs and looked at the drawers and cabinets we discovered....

my bathroom drawer was over flowing with items ... most of which I didn't even need/use...

and the cupboards, wow ~ where to begin...

Of course I had no idea how it became this way ...

everything was emptied out of the drawer and cabinets.

There was even a basket (nicely packed/organized) with hair styling gadgets. Unfortunately I'm no longer able to use these gadgets because of my arm movement limitations and energy required to blow dry, flat iron, or curl my hair. So this basket and its contents was occupying valuable storage real estate. 

There was even a huge bag of items - remnants of a possible earlier attempt to bring some organization to these cabinets.

After everything was sorted into ... daily need/use, discard and store elsewhere piles, the task to put things back was made easy with drawer organizing plastic containers.

In the drawer only daily use items ~ otganized to be seen and easily accessible. 

The under sink cabinet was relieved of non-use items and only items that are used went back in.

Do you find items build up in your drawers and cabinets? Have you streamlined products to keep things accessible and organized. Hope this inspires you to get organized, so you can have a great start to your day!

Note: This may seem like a very staright forward solution but for us with brain injuries ~ though we may be aware that clean up, organization is required; the thought and process can become not only overwhelming but a trigger. Offer to help a friend or family member if you notice that things are needing a little organization.

Tour down Unexpected Road ..

Realization hit me, a few weeks ago, that I’ve been traveling down Unexpected Road almost [three months short of] 5 years! Looking back over the past years, it feels like I have been frozen in time. That it was only yesterday that I was getting ready to go and celebrate a friend's birthday; earlier that week I had discovered how much I admired Marie Antoinette after watching Coppla's newly released movie with the birthday girl. This frozen in time feeling is the result of traveling down Denial Boulevard, without knowing it. I’m not sure when I turned onto this boulevard or how long I have been on it, but I hope it comes to an end or turn soon.

All around me friends, family and therapy related persons, say “look how far you have come; you are looking good and look you’re bouncing back quicker after an anxiety episode, melt down etc.” Yes, outwardly things are looking much better, and I’m learning to put on that happy “I’m doing great” smiley look. Inwards however things remain confused and frustrating most of the time. Things that made perfect sense to me are now distant memories. At times I still feel like a child pushing the boundaries of authority. While other times give me hope that life may not be the same as it was, but it will be great – these feelings last until the fatigue or forgetfulness set in quickly reminding me I am different now and the path my life is traveling is also different.

I’m told overtime everyone changes – yes, but the change is gradual and the person remains in control of the path they take. No Unexpected Road. Recently in my search of the Holy Grail of Recovery … I was trying to go therapist free ~ no psychologist; no rehab girl; no physical therapy. Well it’s not worked out too well. There is a silver lining here, and that is the cross road sign ahead seems to be “Acceptance Lane” because I’m looking forward to having these people back on the payroll, sort of speaking.

When I started blogging aside from a venue to work on my communication and writing skills with Speech Therapist, I wanted this to be an area that anyone faced with a cross road, challenge, transition in their life could feel they weren’t alone. A place where they could perhaps take some of the things that were working for me and apply/modify to work for them. And for family and friends of people going through life changing transitions, to get a glimpse of what may be going on. Looking over my posts in recent months it’s clear unknowingly being on Denial Boulevard, has limited this openness in my writing.

Some of my earlier readers have emailed wondering if things with Mr. G’s family have resolved themselves, as I haven’t written about that either. Sadly no … and this too is something I will be sharing in my future writing.

Thank you to my readers who have been with me from the beginning and thank you for joining along to my new readers.

Every Beginning starts from an Ending ~ A Memory In Time ~

October 28th, 2006 ~ 8:30 p.m.

This date and time will forever be the defining moment at which my life as

I knew it, lived it, loved it, enjoyed it, and treasured came to an end.

The voice I had known as mine is no more, in its place

is a voice I do not recognize, at times, as belonging to me.

The once toned, fit, healthy body that encased and kept my soul safe,

 is now a reflection I don't reconize in the mirror.

The sharp, quick , capable of making the toughest decisions,

mind, giving me independence ~ is no longer.

It is now slower, foggy, and confused at times,

requiring to depend on others for support.

On this day I say... I have not forgotten "ME" and miss "ME" terribly.

But I'm learning to treasure the time , laughter, tears, happiness 

and the memories made, before it all came to an end.

I will use it all as a stepping stone to "Re-invent ME"..

ME 3.0 ~ In Development!!

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Haunting Thoughts....

The man whose driver’s car door mirror would take my life could only say

“I didn’t see her”. What could he have been doing that he did not see me standing there?

In a well lit area, wearing a white coat, waiting for traffic to pass. I don’t recall any part of the accident ~ have been told, witnesses were saying at the scene “She was waiting to finish crossing”

When asked by police what speed he was going ? The driver said “the speed limit” when asked what that was he replied “60 km”  It’s a 50 km area. Speeding by his own admission, yet not charged.

What kind of person strikes another person down with his vehicle and months later his insurance had still not been notified?

Click Here for Spiritual Sundays

“Beyond the Physical …” - Part of Picking Up The Pieces Mondays

For those who emailed me.. thank you for your sweet words - I am OK.. Remember these Monday posts catching up to where I am today. Going back to this time was a little challenging and I apologize if its is a little scattered. Feel free to email me if you would like more insight into this part of recovery. Again sorry for the lateness of this post today...
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Having sat in front of this computer for almost an hour staring at the blank page on the screen, clicking some words followed by the “backspace” button; I realize that this is perhaps the hardest post about the accident I have sat to write. “Why?” you may be asking – well perhaps unlike the limitations caused by injuries and the physical pain, which can be seen and somewhat managed – what I’m about to share is often not seen by others and simmers lightly beneath the surface.

In the early days of recovery I sometimes felt like I was “going crazy” or was so “broken” that nothing would make me whole again. Overtime with wonderful supportive people around me; a good psychologist; and Meds I find that I am able to somehow find the strength to keep going despite;

My Reduced interest in previously enjoyed activities

My limitations (energy, attention span, information processing) in the early days often kept me from doing things that I once found such joy in – such as; going to a movie, out to eat, meeting friends for coffee, shopping, gardening , ironing my bed sheets (yes, to this day I still miss the ironing of sheets).

Sleep difficulties

At night dreams that caused me to wake up panicked throughout the night, my face and pillow damp from tears – that I do not recall crying and no matter how hard I try I can never remember the dream . I have no memory of the accident; a friend suggested that perhaps during my sleep I am somehow recalling the accident [to this day I do not know what causes me to feel that way in my sleep, and I still have these experiences, thankfully not as frequent].

Concentration difficulties

Easily distracted to the point that I forget if I have eaten or not; brushed my teeth. I try to avoid noisy places and areas with too my people. Recently I was all proud to be boiling water for some pasta – (Mr. G was home working on something and after much discussion agreed to let me use the stove while he was outside) all was going well. Then little Dolce needed to be let out – I recall thinking I can do this … so I went to let him out , Dolce took a little longer and was pulling to go for a walk – so off we went. I returned back to the house to a frantic Mr. G holding a nearly boiled dry pot. Needless to say I’m still not to use the stove unless someone is in the immediate area. Thankfully he was here to check on me and keep me safe.

Easily irritated

Today the frequency of these feelings has been lessening with Meds [discovering the right Meds has been a very bumpy road], identify triggers and removing them or myself from the situation has been beneficial to having some sort of life.

Anxiety

Being around moving cars, loud people/noises and not being able to do things that once came so easily.

The realization of how my injuries impacted my ability to carry out basic day to day functions brought with it another revelation – my future career plans are gone. Without a career, what future do I have? Things started to not look very promising for me; and that was the beginning of a downward swirl. I experienced my first complete melt down around May 2007. (Yes the first, there were 3 more serious ones over the next couple of years and many small but equally scary ones in between).

What I want to share with others;

The emotional damage is often as great if not greater than the physical damage. As the bandages from physical wounds begin to come off; the scars covered by clothing; people start to look at the person like they are whom they were prior to their detour in life. These people begin to return back to their lives – the” novelty” of an injured friend or loved one wearing off (sounds cold – BUT it is true). And the person finds themselves alone, scared and unsure of what the future holds.

The words above belong to author William Styron, and they describe his first episode of major depression.

When your loved is going through a meltdown, their world is literally spinning out of control. For them it’s like they are seeing what is happening, are hearing what they are saying, BUT I stress this …they are unable to stop. Telling them to “stop”… or saying “enough” is not going to help at all, trust me if they could they would ~ they want more than you to have this stop.

My best suggestion (I’m not a professional )– when I have been the one going out of control – what we found would work at times was someone speaking softly to me .. this would often calm me enough to get me to go and lay down.
If you feel like you are going “crazy” … know you are not alone. Speak to someone and the sooner you are able to connect with the right Psychologist , you will be on your way to a much better place.

Home at Last - Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

image:www.allposters.com

As I moved from the car to up the walk way, I truly left like an elderly woman, frail and hunched over, cane in one hand, while being assisted (held up) on the other side. I shuffled my slippered feet along the path way to the stairs that took you to the front porch and my front door. How I made it up those 5 steps, that first day still remains a mystery – though I had help, it felt like 50 steps nonetheless.

Walking in my front door, I looked around – everything was just as I had left it, more or less. I was seated on the sofa, while my things were brought in from the car; I looked around – a feeling of being an intruder in another person’s life enveloped me. The person who lived here, was full of life, pictures scattered around - showed laughter and memories with friends at social gatherings, travels, charity functions and BBQs. Yet, this person was me – but now I could barely hold my head up let alone be the active, energy filled soul in those pictures.

image: google search images

Upstairs, my nightmare became a reality; I had to be lifted unto my Wheat Farmers style bed – I had previously so easily hoped into. The duvet that I had purchased and covered with a ruby red and golden tone duvet cover, that had felt so light and warm – now felt like a ton of bricks, and had to be replaced with a light weight blanket. As I lay there unable to move (literally) I took in the room – on the chaise arm my bikini, a regular summer staple, like a sun loving friend – would become the enemy of my now butchered abdomen; my new Chanel hand bag sat on the vanity table – I had just purchased it weeks before my accident – would I be able to use it – with my right arm fused at the elbow in a hand shake position; a strange voice brought me out of deep wonderment “Miss were shall I put these, don’t imagine you will be needing them anytime soon..” as my eyes followed the sound – a woman with a Jamaican accent stood there holding in one hand strappy heels I had bought on my trip to Miami that summer and my Jimmy Choo black heels in the other hand. I laid there speechless, who are you? Why do you have my shoes? Ran through my thoughts, but for some reason I could not get the words out.

image:www.yorkhospital.com

Exhaustion must have come to my rescue, as I opened my eyes I was greeted with friendly familiar smiles. “hey sleepy, did you meet the caregiver yet? She makes a great cup of coffee.” I was informed that there would be 3 shifts of caregivers – morning, afternoon and evening. They would assist me with, bathing, going to washroom, eating, dressing, meds and anything else I may need. Great, I was now a patient trapped in my own home.



What I want to share with others;

While your loved one is in the hospital people do not see them as they were prior – they accept that the person is injured. However, when your loved one goes home and is seen in a familiar environment – these same people expect to see the “old” loved one – this goes for friends and family members. Know that your loved one will do everything to be that “old” person (as they too are in denial of change) – so it becomes very confusing as to whom they are. Frustration, depression, escalation in pain, confusion and the limitations of your loved ones ability – boil to the surface.

What your loved may not be aware is that going home may be a bitter sweet experience. For me - I thought going home meant regaining some of my freedom and return to my life. Of course those looking out for me knew otherwise. They knew I still had a long road to travel, with many loops, turns and the yet to be discovered additional detour or two, along the way.

Next Monday when the reality becomes too much for friends and family – your loved one feels even more helpless.

Critical Care – Step 1 of 4 to going home - Part of Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

I started to “wake-up” – I do not recall exactly what my first thoughts or feelings were – but at some point I remember thinking “where am I – and why can’t I wake myself up from this nightmare?” At some point it started to become clear that I was not having a dream, the pain and confusion as to where I was and I why I felt this way – was actually quite real. I tried to speak, but no sound was coming out. I would later discover this was due to the tracheal intubation tubing that was coming out of my throat and helping me to breathe. This trach would also become the obstacle to getting me to the next level of care.

During this time – I was completely at the mercy of the nurses for all my needs. From monitoring my life saving equipment to bodily function needs. Looking back now I often wonder how I made it through this time. My sister tried to make it and keep me as comfortable as possible; from emptying bed pan when there was no one available to come and retrieve it; personal grooming – to pleading my case for polish on my toes (yes, all else was escaping and failing me, but the fact that the polish on my toes had been removed – did not. Perhaps, looking back now – it was my attempt to retain some part of myself, as all else no longer felt like me, though I don’t think I was consciously aware of this yet.) Yes, I was allowed to have polish put back on my toes – and was delighted when the x-ray technician commented - I was the only person who ever came from CC with freshly polished toes.

The road to moving from CC to Intensive Care was paved with good intentions, but I would have to be off the ventilator for at least 24 hours with no incidents ( I had to breathe on my own) it took a few attempts before I would achieve success. Breathing on my own was as equally painful as when they were suctioning out the trachea to make me cough up stuff to clear my lungs. Apparently it was equally as unpleasant an experience for those who had front seats to the process as it was for me– to them it was like I was going into convulsions, I was later informed.

Eventually tubes were removed and I graduated to a “ trach plug” – for the hole in my throat. By holding a figure over the “contraption” as I called it – I was able to speak and be heard – though I sounded much like someone who had inhaled helium. This of course did not give me an instant pass out of CC.

What I want to share with others;

Night time is a very lonely and most unsettling time. If you know someone in CC – please try to not leave them alone for any prolonged period of time and try to be on time in the morning. For me, if visiting hours started and my sister was not there – I would go into a big panic and anxious state until the nurses were able to locate her.

Many people feel when their loved ones are in the hospital –they are being taken care of; to this I say – there are some very terrific nurses , I was extremely fortunate to have some of these nurses care for me. I will forever be grateful to the nurse that took the extra time to wash between my toes (I can’t tell you how that small gesture made a world of difference to me); the nurse who wore a protective apron and held my mangled arm as I was in for an MRI (without her help it with would have extremely painful to hold up my shattered arm); the nurse that recommended my sister ask the black dead, skin around incisions on my chest bone be debrided… these are just a few examples of the great beyond the call of duty treatment I received.

Unfortunately, to every good there also is a not so good – balance they call it. I still get shivers every time I think about the nurse that threaten to put a bag or diaper on my behind if I continued to ask for the bed pan – that night my bowels were starting to move; then there was the nurse that left me on the bed pan for over 45 minutes (the man across from me had a digital clock above his bed – in CC they need to know the exact time in case you die – there are no walls, just curtains and they are drawn open); Oh and let’s not forget the midnight nurses that were very disturbed by my request to keep their personal conversation down- as I was trying to sleep… this list also goes on.

Know that the person in the bed no matter how much they look like they are OK – they are not, it is our human instinct to not want to look hurt, confused, depressed etc. – showing these may somehow make us appear weak in the eyes of others. Keep visitors to immediate family and those extremely close to the person – no one wants to be on display, especially when they have just gone through hell and back. If your loved seems to get stressed out when you get ready to leave at the end of the day – try and figure out why. Do not dismiss any claims they may try to voice – I’m not saying to jump the gun here – but take the time to carefully examine things.

Learn proper Etiquette for visiting patients in hospital - it will make your visit more enjoyable, especially for the patient. Here are a couple of websites that offer some wonderful tips on this matter: I wish that some of my visitors had been given this list to read, before visiting.

Etiquette for visiting someone in hospital

Etiquette for visting someone in hospital -tips

images; Me in hospital - HHL; other images -google search