Mild Brain Trauma - mild isn't my favorite word to describe it today.

It's real, the trauma to my brain is real. And it is probably not going to go away. 
Mild Brain Trauma, such a benign phrase.
Mild = little, of small consequence, adding no spice to life. 

Yet, it has taken over my life, my patterns of  thinking, behaving,being.

It has limited me in so many ways; I could fill the page with what I feel I've lost.It has separated me from work I excel at, my hobbies, my car, my mobility, fluency of speech, spacial awareness, emotional control, vision acuity, extensive vocabulary, work friendships, travel opportunities and so many more areas of my life which have been negatively impacted. My extremely wide multitasking ability has been narrowed down to just a few things at a time, as has my extremely wide friendship circle been narrowed down to only a few.

Instead I've had to spend time with friends only a few at a time for short periods of time and forgo the auditoriums, the packed movie houses, the parties where many of my friends will all be having a terrific time. I've had to find activities that I can do, ones that are forgiving of interruptions, mistakes, or needing assistance to complete. I've had to adjust to not being the independent one who was the fixer, the solution supplier, the way maker. I've had to fall back on skills I learned at my mother's knee because they are the ones I can remember most vividly and do most accurately even on bad days.

Bad days?
 Do I mean those days when I am flooded by my senses, surroundings, people, activity etc. Bad days when I am so overwhelmed I cannot contain my emotions and I melt down and either weep, unable to stop for long periods of time or when I become verbally aggressive and argumentative over things we are inches apart on. (Election time is not my friend.)
Or the bad days when I fall asleep at the drop of a hat or as soon as I stop moving and don't waken for 10-15 hours because my mind simply cannot handle any more input. Oh, those bad days.

What was automatic no longer is.
 I must be deliberate in speech, sounding out words that I learned as a two year old, focusing very carefully to not slur, stammer, mutter or babble. Every day going over vocabulary words in my head and sounding them out under my breath.
 Too many items on a shelf and poof! my brain's autopilot takes a nap and I go into overload. I see every single bottle of shampoo on the shelf and I'm just walking past it to go to the ketchup.
 I can't track the conversation we are having as music plays in the background, as your child wants your attention and I have a cup of coffee in my hand. I am no longer always able to remember how to add numbers together even though I worked a cash register every day of my retail career, that ability comes and goes; as do many of my long time skills. It used to be a joke - "you couldn't walk and; chew gum at the same time"; now not so much.

I must explain to so many people why. 
Why I need their patience as I add numbers together to figure out the total on the dinner bill, why I need assistance in putting my leftovers into a to-go box, why I am suddenly crying or angry. Why I hang onto my husband's shoulder, the wall, the counter, the chair or why I suddenly put my hands over my ears and close my eyes. Why I don't answer their phone calls quicker, or respond to their texts.Why I am unable to talk to insurance agents, bill collectors, irate customers, people who just need an ear to hear their problems.Why I almost always just answer "I'm doing well" when asked about my progress. Why I seem so much more negative than usual and can't seem to  stop repeating a phrase several times in a row. Why I am not speaking when there is a crowd of people around me, why I won't be able to attend their son's birthday party/ daughter's dance recital/graduation/funeral/wedding/....

My memory? It is spotty and has a "mind of it's own". I can quickly recall some things easily but other words, events, names, concepts elude me and I end up filling in the blank by going through the back door of my mind like this: "it is white, Cluck, cluck, fork to stir, use the skillet = scrambled eggs please."

I've passed that invisible mark in the sand which separates the "soon this will pass" into the small percentage of those who hear "you will learn to work around this, you will learn to live with this". I'm now in the in-crowd of those whose brains have taken a vacation and refused to return to their home. 

Even my voice has decided to travel without me. I also have FAS (foreign accent syndrome) with atypical presentation. Know that phrase? It means that yes, there is FAS but it doesn't seem to match up with the other cases I've studied in class. There are only a few hundred people in the world with FAS but hey, we can't all be the same now can we? Can we?

So, the accent has been described to me by people as Jamaican, South African, French, Norwegian, Northern Germany, I was even a little Italian for a few days. I've developed an entire 10 minute comedic routine around my new voice. I'll share it sometime. But to me, it's work. I sound like I am learning to speak English. At first I couldn't use contractions, my prepositions were mixed up and I wasn't able to say "Carl's house" it was "the house of Carl". As time went on I was able to improve my english skills to at least pass as an immigrant instead of a tourist.(This is funny in our house because my daughter is an ESL teacher in the local school district). People who've known me for years but haven't seen me recently think I'm faking and pulling some kind of trick on them, some think it's hilarious, some think it's interesting, but mostly, I hear "wow, how does your husband like his new sexy wife?" Ummm, don't ask, this is as difficult for him as it is for me.

 He is the one who drives me everywhere I must go, doctors (8 different ones at one point), church, to meet with a friend for coffee or even to get a manicure. Oh, and thank God he is so capable around the house, I am not able to consistently remember how to do laundry correctly, how to make spaghetti, how to do all those things I've taken for granted for ever. It's him that has to choose carefully what words he uses on my bad days, he must be extra vigilant how he drives on crowded roads, he must look constantly for cues from me as to how I'll react to a given situation and then must be ready to defuse or redirect my emotions.

I'm also blessed by having a daughter who is choosing to live with us and help out. She picks up part of my load as well, filling in those areas of our life that are now difficult for both her father and me. See, he is disabled w/ a heart condition, is highly dyslexic and dysgraphic as well. She is doing this as she works as a teacher in Middle School, is finishing her Master's degree and assists us with a (very) small family business. She deserves a vacation - gratis, in sunshine with rum.

I don't want you to think that my life is terrible. Each day I am grateful I survived to complain of my woes. I am grateful to God that I can talk, walk, read, speak, see, hear etc. I just am at that point where like in any chronic illness or disease when you hit the bottom of the cycle. In a few days I'll have regained my smile (ok, yes it may be sometimes made of saccharin but it is sometimes real). In a few days, I'll be able to reach out and help others again, in a few days I'll be able to read the college level books I adore instead of the predictable YA I struggle with on days like today. In a few days I'll be able to write this blog without utilizing spell check on words I've known and used all my life. In a few days....

But for today - dang it! I'm frustrated, overwhelmed, irritated, scared, worried and a bit tetchy with God.