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 ...
I collided w/ a tree in Camarillo, Ca. on Carmen Street in Dec. 09. They closed down both lanes of traffic for 3 hours because they could not get me out of the car. After awhile they brought the " Jaws of Life" and tore me out from my Nissan ...
My name is Tyler Sutton and I am 39 years old. I have been a brain injury survivor since I was 22.
Like many young men of 22, I thought I was invincible. Things came to me pretty easy back then. I was #1 man on the varsity golf team in ...
The ‘After’ Story by Gina Bartiromo
The most poignant thing around my Half Dome story is to have been part of and to have experienced such profound human connection!! It was an astonishing web of people that took part in and were affected by this life-altering event. It significantly affected Rick, ...
A Research Paper by Jonathan Davies
I always have dreams during my dark hours. What am I trying to remember? When my dark hours end the light comes and pushes them away. Sometimes the memories are hazy; sometimes the memories 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 stories are so realistic even I can not 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.
BECOMING A TBI WARRIOR
By: Victor Medina
vmedina@tbiwarrior.com
I am a three times veteran having served two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. I am a Purple Heart recipient. Throughout my deployment I have been in multiple enemy engagements, including bomb explosions. On June 29, 2009 at 9am I was on patrol in the city of Nazariyah, Iraq when my vehicle was struck by an Explosive Formed Projectile (EFP) penetrating part of the armor. It was at that specific moment that I sustained the Traumatic Brain Injury that changed my life. It caused loss of consciousness among many other issues that are still present. Also, with my injury I developed a speech fluency problem.
It was June 11, 1978, in Somis, California, so I’ve been told. Because you see I have no memory of what happened that day.
I know that I had just gotten back from Arizona where I became the godparent to my young nephew. I had brought my mother back with me, and for Mother’s Day I had taken her to Solvang for the day. I also remember taking her to the Burbank Airport for her to go home. I remember all that very clearly, but the actual day of the accident, I remember nothing.
I was in fourth grade in 1958 (long, long ago!) when I first started with the clarinet. I was so-so with the clarinet. Then I changed to the oboe as a sophomore in high school (1964). My class with the Oboe teacher was once every week. When I was a junior and senior I was in the orchestra for the oboe and English horn, and band for the clarinet. I was better at Oboe and clarinet.
Then I went to college at San Jose State in 1967. I was a music major and physical science was my minor. For music I played the oboe and English horn. I was seven years at college – five ½ years as an undergraduate, and 1 ½ years in graduate school. I was in the College Orchestra for six years and two years for Symphonic Band. I played in the operas “The Barber of Seville,” “The Crucible,” and “The Marriage of Figaro.” I played in the musicals “Carnival,” “Carousel,” and “Man of La Mancha.” Outside we performed “Show Boat.”
My name is Pat Dolan and I suffer from traumatic brain injury.
A little over 4 years ago I was working as a civilian for the US Navy as a manager for the Business Operations Directorate of the Command. I was a master of multi tasking, data analysis and a highly respected advisor both at the local command and on many advisory groups in Washington DC.
My name is Memory McAdams. I suffered my head-injury in June of 1989, when I was 19 years old and a student at San Diego State. I was driving along the Pacific Coast Highway, traveling home to Santa Barbara. Then suddenly a man traveling the opposite direction had a stroke, crossed over the double yellow lines and hit me head-on.
I was knocked into a coma that lasted for 6 months and the doctors were afraid I would never wake up. But, luckily, I did.
