Everyone experiences a TBI differently. Everyone has their own story to tell. I hope this essay provides insight into some of the challenges that can occur after a head injury.

As a freshman in my second semester in college, I had adapted to the challenges of campus life and was really learning to enjoy the freedom of making my own decisions. My major was computer science and my love for mathematics was fed through the required coursework. My brother was about to join the Air Force, so he came to stay a weekend before he was going to go off to basic training.

We had a great time hanging out and doing crazy things to build memories before life got serious. The following Thursday, my dad and brother came to pick me up for the weekend, so I could see him off the next day.

When I got back from my evening class at 9:30, we talked with some of my floor mates about what had happened the prior weekend. My dad was a great kidder and everyone loved to be around him.

After we packed up my laundry, after all I was going home, we set off for home. It was a cold rainy St. Patrick’s day. I don’t remember all of the details, but I do remember that the trip seemed much longer than usual. After about twenty minutes on the road, the accident that would change my family’s life happened.

I remember seeing the bright lights of the truck, as it approached my side window. At least I think I remember it. My memories from the rest of the night are less sequential. I’ve talked to many people that have sustained traumatic brain injuries in auto accidents, and it is common/typical for memories to be foggy or non existent. Somehow I made it out of the car, and so did my brother.

I don’t exactly know where my brother was, but I know that he rolled out of the car after the large truck T-boned our little station wagon. My next memory is of a kind angelic woman comforting me, while my dad was trapped inside of the vehicle. At one point someone’s yelled that he wasn’t breathing. Fortunately, that wasn’t true, or they brought him back. I don’t really know which. I have no idea how I got to the hospital, but I can say that it seemed like I was sitting on the curb in the cold drizzling night for what seemed to be an eternity. I heard someone shrieking in terror, pain, and agony. It seemed incessant and unlike anything I’d ever heard before. Eventually, I realized that terror emanated from me.

I don’t remember it stopping, and I don’t remember how they got my dad out of the car, but I know it involved the jaws of life. Like I said earlier, I don’t know how we got to the hospital, I just know that my Dad’s surgeries took all night. We both had sustained serious brain injuries. My dad was in the hospital for a long time. I had not yet been diagnosed with my TBI. Monday, I went back to school to finish the semester. I had separated my shoulder and was treated on an outpatient basis for the physical bodily injuries I had sustained.

My dad was in a coma for forty days. I was at school with an undiagnosed head injury. While my dad lie comatose back home, I persevered back at school. It was a horrible experience. I was always afraid I would get a phone call telling me my father was gone. Also, I had uncontrollable head pain and was tired all the time. School was now nearly impossible, and I felt alone. My family was back home visiting dad all day everyday, and I was struggling at college. I completed the semester and passed a class or two. It was a dreadful semester. I would have many more like it through my undergraduate program.

I ended up changing majors from computer science to fine art, my other passion. But it still hurt to not be able to do the math. About the time that spring semester ended and I went home for the summer, my dad came out of the coma. The hospital told us he was no longer in a coma. It was nothing like in the movies. The only way I knew he was out of the coma was because they told us so.

My dad took years to recover, and I’m not even sure what that means. He is no longer the same person he was before that fateful night, and his life has had no shortage of challenges to overcome since the accident. It took three years for my TBI to be diagnosed. After having a tonic-clonic seizure on a boat, testing and evaluations were done and my diagnosis was affirmed. Because of my father’s injuries, mine were always viewed as less severe by my family. However, the seizures, chronic head pain, depression, and other residual impairments all are part of my trauma.

My dad is now eighty and I have persevered through my bachelor of fine arts, three master’s degrees, and a PhD in accounting. The TBI is part of me, but it isn’t me. After many years, my father and I have learned to cope with the trauma, but it will always be a part of you.