Look to Those Who Inspire

We live in a time that offers easily accessible information of all kinds regarding illnesses and disabilities. We can connect with people all over the world on the Internet, even people who have walked in our shoes who might offer a different perspective. That's why it's important to know who we can connect with that will boost our own wellbeing.

Through the Internet, I just met Janet Cromer, author of Professor Cromer Learns to Read, a story of love and commitment in the most difficult of times. I came away amazed at the intelligent strategies she used to deal with her husband's brain injury, dementia, and parkinson's disease as she cared for him at home. Her story is complex, as many of our stories are; it's deeply tragic, yet shining with moments of pure joy and revelation.

And through a small blurb in Time Magazine (Feb. 12, 2012 issue), I learned that professional skier, Jill Kinmont Booth, a U.S. champion skier in 1955, has recently passed away at age 75. Jill broke her neck during a race, and was paralyzed, yet she learned to use her neck and shoulder muscles to write, paint and study. She was a teacher for thirty years. Her quote says it all, "To get mad...doesn't get you anywhere. You sort of look for what's good that's left." These are wise
words we can soak up and use to push forward.
Happy hunting in your search for inspiration, it flows all around us, waiting for us to take notice.

Marriage after TBI

Several people have asked me how Hugh and I stayed together in a loving relationship after TBI, so I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. First, I think it’s our history. We had been married 24 years at the time of Hugh’s accident, and his accident only deepened my commitment to him. I wanted him back, and I wanted him to recover to his full potential. That was my number one goal.

Second, although we experienced financial strain (Hugh lost his job), we continued to have a steady income after his accident, (social security and disability income). Many fights in marriages are caused by money problems, but Hugh and I had always lived within our means, and we continued to live within our means during his rehabilitation, so we did not fight about money. I did, however, stress about our future, and how we would pay for it all down the road, and that was hard enough, so I can’t imagine being flat broke and in debt throughout this ordeal.

Third, we had great doctors and therapists. Dr. G. at HealthSouth gave us advice on Hugh’s first day in rehab: be kind to each other. This advice, while it sounds simple, is extremely important. Whenever one of us snapped at the other, we’d remind each other, “This is hard on me too, so please don’t be cruel.” Kindness leads to so many other good feelings: gratitude, endearment, and love. Making a commitment to be kind to each other, and actually living it, can make a big difference in a relationship.

Fourth, we had strong ties to family and friends. We had confidants. We could vent to others in a safe way and feel supported. We had people in our corner, and we will never forget those that stuck by us throughout.

Fifth, we had counseling. I talked to the LCSW at HealthSouth, another social worker outside of HealthSouth, and Dr. Kreutzer, neuropsychologist, along with some of his fellows. Hugh met with the LCSW at HealthSouth and a support group there, as well as Dr. Kreutzer. These sessions provided us with the information, tools, and coping mechanisms we needed to move forward.

Along the continuum, there were times when things felt hopeless, days when we'd rather not get along, and long, lonely hours spent wondering how we'd ever get through this, but Hugh and I knew one thing: we wanted to stay married, and if we were going to stay married, we wanted it to be as good as it was. As it turns out, it’s better. We are more tuned in to each other than ever before. I realize that we are particularly fortunate because Hugh made such a strong recovery, and he never had a negative, angry or abusive personality change. We both feel fortunate every single day for that, and we both want to make the most of these midlife years together, because every healthy day we live feels like a gift we’re unwrapping together.

A Loss of Words

I just learned that Jeffrey Zaslow died yesterday in a car accident. Zaslow is the author of two books that mean a lot to me: The Last Lecture, a book given to me by my daughter as a graduation gift, and Gabby, the story of Gabby Giffords and Mark Kelly, and her triumph over tragedy.

Zaslow worked at the Wall Street Journal, and is said to have been an inspirational man. I wish I had known him. In his own way--by writing for both Randy Pausch and Gabby Giffords--he was a caregiver. He shaped the words they needed to say, so millions of readers would understand, not only their illness and injury, but the spirit that carried them through it.

In the case of Randy Pausch, Zaslow wrote the story that made the book an overnight success, and it's easy to see that Randy and Jeffrey shared many of the virtues illustrated in the book: "Earnest is better than hip," and "Enable the dreams of others."

It's such a loss to society when someone like Zaslow dies suddenly and prematurely. What would have been the next great book he would write? How many more people might he have touched? All we can do is honor the lessons left behind, emulate his great work, and pay it forward in a way that is uniquely our own. Thank you for teaching us so much, Mr. Zaslow.