I always have dreams during my dark hours.  What am I trying to remember?  When my dark hours end, the light comes and pushes the dreams away.  Sometimes the dreams are hazy; sometimes they are vivid, surreal events I awake from full of fear and anxiety.  Although they are not the reality of the awake-world, they have one hell of an effect on the tales I tell and the ability to have my listeners believe them to be true.  Often my dreams are so realistic even I cannot determine between truth and fiction.  The dreams of my dark hours create memories, memories create beliefs; these beliefs affect how I react to people and events.

So much was lost when the uninvited, crippling trespasser made his way into my life.  It is nearly impossible to express the true idea, visions and horrors that are constantly brewing in what is left of this mind of mine.  I have gone to many different doctors of all types in hopes of finding a clear pathway through the jungles of my forgotten past, foggy present and, what often seems to be, bleak future.  Doctors and therapists offer words of advice, suggestions on how to cope with the losses, encouragement for coming so far after such a severe injury, no one talks about recovery anymore.  Now we talk about managing symptoms and coping.

 It has been fifteen years since the accident, since the trespasser, traumatic brain injury, came abruptly changing my life. The injury was terrible, the medical intervention was miraculous and my body did a great job getting back on its feet with months of rehabilitation.  But, today, like every day, is an up-hill battle through a maze of pretty scary stuff.  The memory does not work, I have trouble keeping a schedule straight, I cannot recall even happy events from the day before without reminders.  Sometimes I just get tired of it all.

In my mind traumatic brain injury, referred to as TBI, does not take into account that I need time outside of its grasp.  I need time to have someone help me sort out the realities.  I need time to let go of these dream memories that create frightening, fear-filled thoughts which seem like they must have happened.  Whether I am sleeping or awake, chances are there will be no images for me to fall back on and recall the reality of experiences that have occurred.   Facts get mixed up with dreams, then dreams get mixed up with fabrications I have put together based on the emotions evoked when I awaken in a cold sweat.

Living with Traumatic Brain Injury, after you get through the coma, the hospitals, the rehab and the therapy, is a never-ending journey of looking for a road that will take you somewhere you can feel wanted, safe and have life with purpose.  This last part is the part that is not usually written about in newspapers.  No one wants to hear about the heartbreaks and pain that continue long after the happiness of being discharged from the hospital and getting home again.

The information about my accident, the medical intervention, my rehabilitation and my immediate re-entry into home and community life is from the story telling of family members and copies of medical reports over the past fifteen years of our time together.  I guess they are all telling me the truth.  I have very little recollection of my life between my junior year at Vermont Academy until a few years after my first year at Springfield College.  I remember some names of friends.   It is maddening to hear the stories of my life from everyone but myself.  How could I have jumped from a plane and soared through the sky without ever remembering?   How could my Grandpa, my fishing buddy, have died on my twentieth birthday and I don’t recall any pangs of sadness?   What else happened that I will never imagine?

Like the majority of survivors of traumatic brain injury (TBI), I was involved in a motor vehicle accident when I was a young man.  After my first year of college, I was riding my prized Honda motorcycle on a beautiful July day in the small town where I lived with my parents.  Speeding along the country road, the sun on my back, I never saw the car making a left hand turn crossing my path.  I hit the car as it started to turn into my path and flew sixty five feet through the air.  I don’t remember any of this but I am told this is what happened.  I was flown to the local trauma center after being treated at the scene by the volunteer ambulance team.  I was in intensive care, not responding to anything except the sensation of choking during times I was suctioned to keep my airway clear.  Then I would choke so hard I would lift my two hundred ten pound, six foot two inch body right off the bed as I gagged for air.  Otherwise, I ‘slept’ as a machine did my breathing for me.

The recovery from this brain injury took everything I had.  My brain required energy to keep functioning and healing, I dropped forty pounds in a matter of a few weeks and only after more than a month did I open my eyes and begin coming out of the deep coma state.  I was fed by a tube surgically inserted into my stomach and my breathing was made easier with a tracheotomy tube inserted through my neck.  Most of us survivors have the wounds left from this time of medical intervention.  We compare scars to see who had the better surgeon.

In my damaged mind I am left to accept a life tangled with stories of how miraculous my recovery has been while I will never have any recollection of the pain I caused myself and my family.  The mental pain goes on: the ‘memories’ put into my head by the stories I am told by other, the things doctors tell me each time I go through another examination, and the news articles I read about someone else ‘recovering’ from TBI.  It is so strange not to know what is reality and what is fantasy.  Did I have this experience I am reading about?  Did people tell the truth about what happened?

Like many of those with serious brain trauma, I ended up with memory problems and seizures.  We all share some level of an array of symptoms of dementia, depending on the areas of the brain injured: cognitive problems, irritability, impulsivity, insomnia, fatigue, and apathy.  Many of us struggle with depression and anxiety, some with compulsive disorders, and regretfully, some have suicidal thoughts and attempts.  As life goes on I realize more and more how much my impairment has affected my life.  I worry about what it will be like in years to come.

Most traumatic brain injuries occur in children between the ages of 0 – 4 years, and then youth between the ages of 15 and 19 years.  Males are more likely to sustain TBI than females.  Certain military duties increase the likelihood of TBI.  The brain is most often injured when an outside force causes the brain to move inside the skull; or the brain can be injured when the skull itself is broken and the brain directly hurt.  The brain moves around inside the skull like Jello, except is attached in places.  Tearing, bruising, bleeding and pressure from swelling affect the brain in different areas.  Depending on the degree of damage and the areas damaged, the survivor will experience numerous life-long deficits which may never heal fully.  Improvement in condition occurs for many years after the brain injury, but recovery in the sense of being like ‘before the injury’ is not going to happen.

Each year 90,000 American life through injuries that leave them permanently disabled with brain injury; 50,000 die from brain injury each year.  Today, 5.3 million Americans face challenges resulting from brain injury.   The numbers of Americans with brain injury are increasing with the Global War on Terrorism as our soldiers return home to begin life anew with the effects of brain injuries sustained in battle.

An In Institute of Medicine report edited by Eden and Stevens stated in 2006: …many people with TBI experience persistent, lifelong disabilities.  For these individuals, and their caregivers, finding needed services is, far too often, an overwhelming logistical, financial and psychological challenge.  Individuals with TBI-related disabilities, their family members, and caregivers report substantial problems in getting basic services, including housing, vocational services, neurobehavioral services, transportation, and respite for caregivers.  Yet efforts to address these issues are stymied by inadequate data systems, insufficient resources, and a lack of coordination.  TBI services are rarely coordinated across programs except in some service sites.  Furthermore, in most states, there is no single entry point into TBI systems of care.

Now in order to keep going, I need a medical-alert pill dispenser to remind me to take medication to stop my seizures, I take pills to help me sleep without the dark, overpowering dreams, and, infrequently, I need antidepressants to get me over the rough times.  I write poetry and prose to keep myself thinking and using my brain.   I love to get out in nature.   I enjoy playing black jack at the casino.  And, I look forward to getting a part-time job as soon as possible.  Like everyone else, people with TBI want to be included in life.  Many of us need help with transportation and help organizing and remembering.  But we do remember.  We remember people who are helpful, caring, take time to be with us.  We remember how it feels to be appreciated.e TBI survivors do have problems that change our lives immensely and we know that we must be difficult to be with.  Our friends fall away; we cannot keep up with their lifestyles.   We have problems remembering day-to-day events and appointments, even new faces.  Solving new problems takes us longer.  We get upset easily and are prone to angry outbursts, but we cool down quickly and often do not remember what we said or did.  These changes in behavior and our difficulty in reading what others mean or need can cause us problems in relating to people.   And, we need support to get out into a meaningful job or volunteer position that gives us a reason to get up and out each day.

Professionals, survivors, and family members are trying to piece together services to support those of us who live with TBI.   A full continuum of care addressing all the needs of a person with TBI is difficult to put together.   Yet, brain injuries are the most prevalent reason for emergency room visits.  More and more people are living after sustaining very serious brain injuries.  Getting people through the first weeks following their injuries is not enough.  Having acute rehabilitation available is a must.  But, getting people through the years of living with their injuries with dignity and care is what is needed.

Remembering is difficult for TBI survivors.  We all joke about our memories, then we tell each other about our new watches with alarms, new medication reminders, and talk about the food and weather.  We remember the ‘normies’ who used to be our friends.   Then we try to remember what we did at our last support group meeting.   Remembering to remember.  Remembering we count.  Reminding people to remember.   There is no full recovery from a serious brain injury.  There is life after the injury.  Sometimes it is just as well not to remember the things we have lost.

I still remember how it felt to fly through the wind on my bike and motorcycle.  I have nights when the dark thoughts do not catch up with me.  I try to remember there may be more for me in the future.  I try to keep trying.  Maybe in the future each person with TBI will have an opportunity to live a life that is meaningful and rewarding.  Maybe someday policy makers and the public will understand what it is to live with what is left after the crippling trespasser has come.

Resources:

Barriers and Recommendations, Addressing the Challenge of Brain Injury in America. 2008

 Washington, DC: Brain Injury Consensus Conference,  November 02 2007.  1-6. 6 p.

“Dementia in Head Injury.”  Web MD  5 May 2008.   http://www.webmd.com/mental-health/dementia-headinjury

“Statistics from Center for Disease Control and Prevention.”  Brain Injury Association of the USA.

2 May 2008.  www.biausa.org

 I had lots of girl friends and guy friends to hang out with. I was king of the world, or so I thought.
I got in the habit of making poor choices, but I wasn’t worried about it, because I had the rest of my life to get it figured out.

 Then there was my accident

I had partied hard one night and then into the morning. Having little sleep, I got on a motorcycle for a long trip and only 30 miles into it, I fell asleep to the hum of my engine.
I had a helmet on, but hitting the freeway going 65 miles on hour can really do some damage. I don’t remember the actual accident.
I was taken to the trauma center at Holy Cross Hospital. People I had never met tried desperately to save my life. I had brain surgery every day for 3 days.
I had a long rehabilitation and worked hard to get back to my old self, but that didn’t happen. I caused my family more pain than I will ever know.

Like some people with brain injury, I self-medicated with alcohol and drugs, and I was barely surviving

Then I found the Brain Injury Center and became a real survivor. I learned coping skills for my anger by attending the Center’s support meetings. And it helped me with cues, like writing things down so I can remember them.
Most of all, I found friends that have a positive influence in my life and people who understand about brain injury.
I also learned about AA and have found an amazing support system of brother.

I learned that we all have handicaps of one kind or another and I AM NOT ALONE.

   I arrived by ambulance for immediate surgery. Opened up like a fish, the incision was from my neck to just three inches below my navel. My lung was collapsed, every rib that composed the cage was broken, my spleen removed and the liver severed.Most all my blood was gone. The three doctors labored for 3-4 hrs. and then closed me up. I was in a coma for 2 weeks before my eyes opened. I could not remember a thing. A very, very frightening event to understand.

   Under my armpit they inserted a tube in my lung to assist in my breathing as well as tubes inserted in my nose and mouth . There I lay 3 weeks in a coma and 2-3 more weeks to get better to start rehab.

   Today, after 2 years, I am not well. Although, if you looked at me I could fool you, but if you stay w/ me for some time you will know something is wrong. I seem to repeat myself often because I forget what I had said. Very embarassing. I have good days and I have bad days. The doctor says I will develop seizures which I am not looking forward to. I often walk in circles and I have extreme memory loss. I pay bills electronically and often to the wrong payee. It just kills me when that happens. I just have to remember how lucky I am to be alive and able to drive. My Mother is legally blind and counts on me for much. I am glad that I can help her and she understands my injury. Very supportive and lots of love.  She provides me good medicine. I am dizzy at times and short breathed but that is OK. I pray each day to thank God that my accident was not more severe and that he got my attention.

   I go to Ventura County Brain injury classes twice a month and it saved my life. I know I am not alone and there is love and help there for me. I find it that 90% of the injured people have the same impairment that I do. Memory loss, lost position, not fully aware of one’s daily duties to complete, and the knowing that we are different souls. I am very grateful for what happened to me. I am not bitter because for how would I ever know the other side of the coin. They say, ” God plants you where you are to bloom.” This is true. I am on disability at 60 yrs. old and grateful that the govt. was finally convinced that I needed help. I hope you can understand that from one day to the next we are living in a world of the unknown. That one event can change your life forever. Be careful and stay safe.

Respectfully.

Steve Spencer

My Story:

I knew I was struggling. I was aware I was cold. I had no idea my life was at risk. Even as I write these words, it doesn’t feel like my story, like it happened to me. I don’t know how it happened. I am amazed that my brain shut down at that exact moment. But I have been told from various perspectives how I fell down that mountain. As I flew at an estimated 30 miles per hour crashing against the rock, airborne at times, my spirit soared away from my poor flailing body.

In hiking Yosemite’s Half Dome on June 6, 2009 with three of my friends, I was having trouble at a point where one of the poles that is placed on the mountain for stability was pulled out of the rock making the cable slack. It began to lightly snow making the path slippery. Also, I was holding my weight up by my arms and my bicep began not working well anymore due to my hands being cold.

Two of my friends were at the bottom of Half Dome waiting for us and when they heard I was struggling, Peter decided to come back up to help. Tricia spoke to a random stranger “My friend is having trouble up there. Can you go up and help?” His name was Rick.

Though I don’t remember this, I am told my butt slammed down first and I began to slide and plunge down the mountain. Apparently, I was screaming as I descended. Rick says I was already falling down before he could reach me and the first time he saw me I was airborne. Peter witnessed a big portion of my fall. My heart breaks to know that Vanessa and Peter and Rick had to witness such an event. In my opinion, it was far more traumatizing for them than for me. Peter says I smacked my back against a pole, did a couple cart wheels, and tumbled down the rock before I was stopped by a tiny ledge of about 6 inches. Broken and battered, I laid face down with my right knee up against my chest. Tricia had to borrow someone’s cell phone to get reception and called 911 reporting my fall and that they expected I snapped my neck.

Rick and his nephew-in-law, Kiley stayed with me for 3 hours as I lay there bleeding and broken while my traumatized friends hiked to safety at the bottom of Half Dome. Many people donated their jackets to lay over me. Someone took my vitals and hollered them down to Tricia who was on the phone with 911. When Vanessa reached the base of Half Dome, she kept hearing my brother Anthony’s name in her head. I had told her about my brother passing away a few years before but she didn’t know him personally and I am very surprised she remembered his name. Maybe I had mentioned his name that weekend because it was the memorial day of his death the following day, June 7. She couldn’t get his name out of her mind. So finally, she bellowed out to him “Stay with your sister! Don’t let her fall off that ledge!”

Kiley says I came to three times and they had to calm me down to keep me from moving too much. At one point when I came to, I shifted from being face down onto my back. That’s when they knew I wasn’t paralyzed and hadn’t snapped my neck.

Yosemite had sent a helicopter to rescue me but the helicopter was having difficulty getting to me due to the clouds and poor weather. Had Rick and Kiley not stayed with me, I would have come-to those three times and possibly continued to shuttle down that rock to the 1000 foot drop that loomed 4 feet away.

Finally there was a clearing in the sky. It was the helicopter’s last attempt as they were running low on fuel. They touched down and let out the rescue team. Had the helicopter not been able to pick me back up, I would have been transported the 5+ hours down the rocky mountain via a stretcher basket. I already had a broken spine, skull and jaw etc. (Apparently, my skull fracture was only a hairline away from causing me to need brain surgery or to have caused more irreversible damage). That would have ruined me. But the team was able to get me off that precarious ledge, into the stretcher basket and hooked onto the helicopter cable. Jack, a Yosemite EMT, rode with me hanging on the side of the basket 10 feet below the helicopter as it lifted me to a flat meadow where I could be transferred to the emergency MediVac helicopter.

Tricia, Peter and Vanessa gave their report of the accident to the Search and Rescue team individually. Tricia, miraculously, had my parents’ contact information in an old address book she happened to have had back at camp and relayed my name, age and information to the team. She was advised not to contact my parents herself. Somehow that information wasn’t properly relayed to the MediVac team so when I got to the emergency room, I was treated, stabilized and put into the Neuro Critical Care Unit as a Jane Doe.

Tricia called first thing the next morning to see how I was and the confusion was cleared. The medical staff called my parents and on the day of my brother’s passing four years previous relayed to them the shocking news of my fall.

I was in the hospital for a total of one month and one day, in three different hospitals in three Northern California cities. I was in a semi-coma for two weeks. When I came to, I couldn’t remember where I lived, worked or had gone to school. Gratefully, I remembered loved ones that were around me and my dear friends that came to visit me. Within a week of hearing various facts along with being given my cell phone, I remembered pieces of my life. These times will be cherished forever as it truly helped me to recall segments of my recent history.

My injuries included a broken jaw (repaired with a Titanium plate), 3 compression fractures of the spine (I had to wear a body brace for 3 ½ months), a fractured rib and sacrum, substantial misalignment of the coccyx (tail bone), severe bruising of left glute, leg and back, brain injury (hematomas and bleeding in the brain; semi-conscious for 2 weeks; luckily the amnesia only lasted for about a week or so after I “came to” and the brain damage is continually improving even compared to a few weeks ago – still have some word recall issues and struggle with short-term memory), a fractured skull (at the base where the spinal cord enters the brain), lacerations requiring stitches behind the left ear and on the skull, moderate hearing issues in the left ear, double vision, a broken left collar bone that hasn’t properly healed yet and a laceration on the right calf that has healed. I needed to be taught how to walk again and progressed beyond the need for a wheel chair upon being released from the hospital after a one month stay. I was walking with a cane for about 8 months and my balance has definitely improved. I was on a liquid diet for 9 weeks due to my broken jaw and lost a considerable amount of weight. I had horrible vertigo for about 3 months which was resolved thanks to my physical therapist using the Epley Maneuver.

I have double vision though I use prism lens glasses to regulate it. Thanks to a phenomenal Optometry group, I have been actively doing Vision Therapy which has proven to repair visual problems after a traumatic brain injury. I trust I will have normal vision return. My brain is feeling back on track in the last few months though I still deal with mild word searching, spelling and short term memory issues. I attend the Brain Injury Center’s bi-monthly support group in Camarillo where I find encouragement. The mild brain injury that I have dealt with is miniscule considering the trauma my brain went through in pounding against the rocky mountainside as I fell.

My body has done an amazing job! I have done a lot of work on myself spiritually and emotionally before the fall and that has helped me tremendously to stay optimistic with a positive outlook. I have a strong holistic/spiritual connection that is still changing, growing and becoming. I am told that while I was semi-conscious for those 2 weeks I spoke with difficulty, in broken sentences of my deceased brother, Anthony. I reported seeing him on the mountain with me and seeing him in the hospital room at my bedside. I know that he was with me and that he remains in my/our presence. There have been so many miracles and spiritual gifts through this experience. I trust I am being taken care of and that I am meant to be alive … I am here for a reason. My healing has progressed amazingly well and as I expand beyond the “healing cocoon” I’ve been in for the last 22 months, I am reentering the world and eagerly opening doors to my New Life.  I do believe now more than ever that everything happens for a reason.

18 YERES AGO MY HUBAND & I WERE IN CATALINA ISLAND TO CELEBRAT NEW YERES EVE.  OF WICH I DID NOT MAKE IT ON DEC 30, 1993.  REX (MY HUBAND) & MYSELF WERE RIDING IN A GOFL CART WITH 2 OTERS, WE WERE SITING IN THE BACK, GOING UP A STREET THE DRIVER DROVE GROVEY & THREW ME OFF THE GOFL CART.  I ROLLED DOWN THE STRET HIT MY HEAD.

THE AMBULANCE CAME TOOK ME TO THE HOSPITAL IN CATALINA I HAD A BUMP ONMY HEAD, WAS UNCONSICUOS FOR JUST A LITTLE BIT.  THE DOCTOS SAID I HAD A CONCUSION.  TO TAKE ME TOOUR FRIENDS HOME WATCH ME.  WELL WITHIN 1 HUOR I CULD NOT TAKL, WAKL, MY RITE SIDE OF MY BODY WAS LIKE PARALIZED MY FACE DROOP DOWN.

MY HUBAND TOOK ME BACK TO THE E.R. THEY AIR VACTED ME OFF THE ISLAND TO LONG BEECH MEMORAL HOSPITAL.  THEY DID A CAT SCAN ONMY BRAIN.  I HAD A BLEED IN MY BRAIN THE SIZE OF A LEMON.

A OTHE DOCTOR TOLD MY FAMLY THAT I WOOD PROBALY NEVER BE ABEL TO PROCES INFORMATOIN TOLD TO ME THINK & SPEEK TO RESPONE BACK.  MORE OR LESS LIKE A VEGABLE.  OH MY, HOW DID MY FAMLY DEEL WITHTHIS ONE.  ME I WAS NOT KNOWING ANTHIG.  THEY GAVE ME PAPER TO RITE TO COMUNIATE.  I WAS A RITE HAND PERSON, SO I TRIED MY LEFT.  THEY ASKE ME MY NAME.  I KNEW IN MY HEED I WAS LINDA BUT WIN I ROTE IT WOOD BE 1100222, NO I KNOW  THAT DOES NOT SAY “LINDA”.  I HAD A LONG LONG JURNEY AHEAD OF ME!!!

I HARD MY FIRST SEIZURE ONLY 1 OF 100’S TO COME, GRAND MAL, PETITE & FOCAL.  THEY STARTED TERAPY RITE AWAY.  THEN I WAS MOVED ST. JOHNS REHAB IN OXARD, THEN SOLULUTIONS IN SANT A BARBAR THEN BACK TO ST. JOHNS.  THEN HOME!!!!!  I HAD 5 YERES OF THERAPE SPEECH, PHYSICAL.  IT WAS SO SO SO HARD…..I NEVER WANTED TOLOOSE MY HUSBAND, I WANTED TO BE THE BEST I CULD BE. I WORKED VERY HARD ALWAYS, LOTS OF CONFUSMENT, YUOR FRENDS LEVE YUO BECUZ YUO A R NOW NOT THE PERSON YUO ONCE WERE.

LAST JUNE MY HUBIN SUDENLY PASED AWAY & NOW I AM ON MY OWN TRYING TO FIGURE MY WORLD WITHOUT ANY FAMILY LEVENG HERE.  I HAVE WONDERFUL FRIENDS THAT ARE SUPORTIVE.

THE NEW WORLD IS HARD HARD HARD…..

I HAVE TRUBEL WITH NOESE, VISION, GRUOPS, NO MUSCI, CANT REED BOOKS, CANT DRIVE.  MY THINKS & WORDS MAY NOT ALWAYS WORK OR MAKE CENTS.  SPELING OH THAT YUO CAN SEE IN THIS LETER—I DO MY BEST…..I LOST ABILATY OF MONEY, BUT I KNOW HOW TO GIVE A CREDIT CARD.  CONCENTRATON, COMPREHENDING WELL.  WE GO THRU 5 STEPS, DENIAL, SADNES, ANGER, BARGANING, & FINALY ACCEPTANCE!! !

WELL I DO LIKE MY SELF MOST OF THE TIME !!! YUO MUST WORK HARD.  TRY TO STAY POSTIVE, & YUO CAN DO MORE THAN THE DR’S TELL YUO CAN DO, I HAVE LEARNED MY NEW WORLD.  AS MY HUBIN REX WOOD SAY, 1 FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER & EVERTING WILL BE OK.

I DO LIKE BEING WITH MY BRAIN INJURY FRIENDS….THEY SO GET IT.

Clem was just out of high school, two months into his freshman year of college in Santa Barbara on the night a friend had a party in the Ojai foothills. He was walking down the winding road back to his car when a drunk driver careened toward him. Clem leaped to the side, but the car veered the same way, crashing into him. Clem’s foot got caught in the wheel well and he was dragged 100 feet before coming free. His leg was almost severed, his head was smashed and his neck was broken. He was gushing blood and convulsing at the scene. Witnesses could not imagine that he would survive.

The young student was in a coma for two and a half months before he slowly began to emerge. Deep inside the blackness, he did have some sense of self. He certainly felt pain. He remembers voices telling him not to be afraid, that he would be all right. He could feel the tubes passing inside his nose, going down into his throat. He felt constraints on his legs and his neck. His body was numb and he could not move or even open his eyes.  He tried to talk, but he could not get a sound out. It all seemed like a terrible dream.

In time, Clem could recognize familiar voices: his mother, father, his brothers, his best friends. There were equal parts of pain and confusion. They were talking to him, offering encouragement, and he wanted to respond to the people he loved. “But all of my feelings were inside my head,” Clem remembers. “I could not communicate anything with anybody. I was trapped inside myself. I felt so lonely.”

It took four months before Clem fully emerged from the coma — only to face a long, daunting battle to resume his life. He had a serious brain injury.

Helping others is a common goal among people with brain injuries. Whenever someone in his support group needs assistance, Clem is the first to step forward with an offer to help. “Why should I feel sorry for myself when maybe I can do something for someone else?” he asks. “If I possibly can, I’ll always help someone who needs it. There’s always someone worse off than you.”