Occupational, physical, and speech therapies for a month and a half, and by that time I had demanded enough to be removed from the hospital. I became free to undergo therapies at my local hospital.
I was very depressed by this time. Memory of my yesterdays was growing clearer. A dream ought not last so many days. My family was becoming familiar. My mother told me I was not dreaming; why would she lie?
Beyond my familiarity with things I had once knew, I experienced complete retrograde amnesia. Who had I been? Who was I? Certainly I wasn't the helpless person who everyone was treating me as: just because I spoke slow and slurred didn't mean I had to be spoken to slow. I was not an idiot. I was no lesser of a person than I had been prior to injury. I was determined to prove this, so I could be left alone.
My father had me walk, a lot. He had me lift, and pull, and kneed. He did not comprehend brain injury. He just wanted me to look all right, the same I had always looked. I never had said much in the past, it was my appearance that counted.
I astounded my 7 neuropsychologists. I was determined, as is in my character, to get better, though I knew not what for, or why. I advanced in months what was supposed to take me many years, if at all.
Here I am. Four years later. Looking at me now, you wouldn't guess I experienced the above. I am a 3rd year student attending the University of Madison, WI, majoring in philosophy and psychology. I am 20. I am ambitious. My views on life are considered "different." In relearning life, i.e. existence, I saw our cultures superficial and materialistic ways, and kept on looking. I saw what is important in life.
If you can relate to me in any way, or else would like to chat or email about your injury, please feel free to email me, Thank you!
Email Stephanie
