#17, March 2006

School is really rough now. I hate it. I don't get the same responses that I used to...both from peers and professors. No one listens to me anymore...people assume I'm stupid because I don't talk normally. I mean, this goes for the general society as well as school. I'm treated like my opinions don't count.

I don't know if its because now I have such low self-esteem about my intellect since that I've been hurt and I just imagine and predict I'm being treated as unintelligent, or if I'm really being treated that way.

I can't even drive. I'm like a twelve year old who asks her Mommy and Daddy for rides places. I'm trying to be positive about this whole thing but I'm not feeling like being positive. I guess you need to roll with the punches. I learned from Lion King that you can't change the past...

If you look at the pictures on my comp that are arranged by date, they go from normal pictures and the next one is this picture...

#16 January 2006

I started school back up. It's definitely not the same as it was before I got hurt. I can read a paragraph 10 times and not even know what it's talking about. Even if I tell myself before I start to make sure to pay attention, I have a hard time with it. I took my first test and I got a "C," which isn't so bad considering, but I don't get "C's!" I try to listen in class but it's tough. Before I got hurt I LOVED school, I don't think I'll be loving it any more. I was really good at it and I just enjoyed learning. Now the stuff I just studied I don't even remember so it's not really "learning" anymore. My memory is so very bad and I can't even pay attention to a question I ask that I really do want to know the answer too.

These are two of my favorite cousins/friends, Karli and Jordan. This was the first time I was out of the hospital.

#15 October 2005

My occupational therapist made me throw up. I'm never going back to him. He put me in front of this board thing where I had take a piece and look at the assigned letter. Say it was "A." Then I had to find the "A" on the board and match it up. I told him if I did that I would get sick. He said "Well suck it up. You need to get used to it some time." And so I did it. He went to take care of business and I started matching letters up. My sister, Kelsie, was with me. I told her I was feeling sick, so she had me sit down. Soon after I started walking to the bathroom while throwing up on myself and everything. So they gave me hospital clothes to change into and I went home.

I'm sorry, I just shared with you one of my worst experiences ever, second only to being in a coma. Yeah, well, throwing up is not my occupation either. Another poor guess on the part of my occupational therapists! If it wasn't for the fact that these people saved my life and taught me to walk and stuff, I would be furious with them all.



Another game from occupational therapy.

#14 December 2005

I'm going to this new physical therapist. Its a vestibular therapist in Salt Lake City. She said that my vestibular system isn't working at all right now and so she gave me assignments to do every day and I go see her about every two weeks. Right now, the exercises are working on standing on a foam pad with my eyes closed and doing this thing where I move my head back and forth. That makes me so very dizzy; I hate it. Standing on the foam pad is so hard.

She said that all people with a TBI go through a time when they're very sad and cry a lot and she feels bad for people who haven't gone through it yet because she knows they will. She said that there is a time of morning because a part of you is gone forever. It's like the You you knew died. I get what she's saying, and I really hope I'm going through that right now because it is not so bad!
[side note, I wasn't and hadn't]

#13 October 2005

My parents bought the house and we moved in. I like the house; I'm sad I never had the chance to throw a party here. People are still working on it and stuff - I really don't do anything. I sit on the couch and watch everyone else get stuff done. I just go to therapy and sleep. Eddie comes over every night after he goes to work.

I'm going to start up school again soon. Because I didn't defer for fall semester, I have to reapply to BYU. Can you believe that? "Sorry, I was a little preoccupied with a coma." My parents and fiancee were wondering if I was going to live so they weren't thinking about my schooling. Understandably, that was the least of their concerns. If I did wake up, they didn't even think I'd be able to go back anyways. So I can only take night classes right now for this winter semester. It kind of limits my class choices. I'm a psychology major so I think I will be taking this class on personality.

Their new house.

#12 September 2005

My Mom thinks it's necessary to end my contract with where I was at before my injury. I don't know why...maybe because she was sleeping on the floor? So we're staying in my aunt Virginia's guest room in Provo while my parents are trying to close escrow on a house here in Provo. I like the house-- its really cool. It's amazing how much of a house you can buy in Utah after you sell a house in California.
The other day my old physical therapist took me to go ride a horse that belongs to a friend of his. I still love horses. They were leading me around the arena with someone walking close to me in case I fell. Oh please, like I'll fall off a horse when it's walking in a circle. I wanted to go faster. Its like walking or driving-- I totally remember in my mind how to do it but it's just hard to get my body to do comply. So riding isn't as smooth as it use to be. It's going to take more than a kick to the head to get me to stop riding! It is so funny how my parents and Eddie are so rigid about me wearing a helmet!

This is me riding Elle when I went to Pennsylvania. I think she is only 3 or 4 as of this picture.

#11 September 2005

I cut myself shaving very badly! Before the hospital I shaved my arms (I thought the hair was disgusting) but I woke up and my arms were all hairy. I should have taken that as a hint that I WAS in a coma. Well one of the first things I did when I got home was shave my arms. You know how your left hand isn't as good at stuff and my I call my left hand my Parkinson's hand because it shakes so much. So I cut my right arm up a lot, and shaving injuries don't bleed right away, so I thought it wasn't too bad. I got out of the shower and my Mom and Eddie were there and they kinda freaked out. At that point my arm was just dripping in blood. I tried to play it down like it was no big deal. It looked like I stuck my arm down a disposal!

My therapists and I

#10 September 2005

I MOVED HOME! Yay! The only problem I have is that I'm not better all the sudden like I hoped. I thought I just needed to be home but I guess not.

I moved back into my old apartment with my best friend, Ani. My mom is here too. She sleeps on the floor in the living room. My cousin brought her a mattress to put on the hard wood; she is the kindest person for helping out my Mom. My Dad had to go back to CA for more work, but he comes back to my us in Utah every other week or so.

My Mom keeps a baby monitor in my room. Like I'm an infant. I sleep quite a bit; a nap everyday. But besides that I just go to physical, occupational (I got a new therapist and I hate going; it's a waste of time, since I have so much to do...) and speech therapy. I have visitors every so often, but most came while I was in the hospital. And my other cousins, Jordan and Karli, come visit every-once-in-a-while.

And my sister, Kelsie, is here so it's great to spend time with her. She was at the horses with me when I got kicked and since then we are so much closer than we were growing up. She got me to the hospital and called Eddie and got my parents here from CA that day too. She is so important to me know. I never realized how amazing she is. To tell you the truth, I hated her growing up.


This is Kelsie and I...loving the emergency evacuation device.

#9 August 2005

I moved into my new room! It's got a queen sized bed plus this other twin sized bed that Eddie gets to sleep on. He's been moving up in the world: at first it was the floor, and then a cot, now he's got a real bed. Yesterday my occupational therapist had me do my own laundry (which is funny because my occupation is NOT to do laundry) which I totally remembered, so it was easy.

The only problem is that I was hoping this new room would mean they would try to make it like home as much as possible and stop going to the bathroom with me and showering me. It is so very awkward. They go into the bathroom with me and they say "ok honey, now pull down your britches!" Ok, first off, I don't have britches. Also, if they really want to walk me into the bathroom, that is fine, but then get out! Have they not heard of performance anxiety?? And then someone always showers with me. It's usually my occupational therapist. Again, showering is not my occupation. My sister, mom, and cousins have all showered with me. At first, they were right, I would have had a hard time showering myself. But now I'm just fine. Then again, this whole experience has been embarrassing. I have no dignity left. I asked Eddie if I farted while I was in a coma, he said yes, but he said they were "cute farts." What does that mean?


People saw me like this.

With my stuffed animal holding up my tube.

#8 August 2005

Good news! The nurses told me that I was about ready to go home, so they're going to be putting me in a new room in a couple days. It has a normal, non-hospital bed, in there. Its supposed to be more like home so I can "get acclimated." Every step that takes me closer to getting out of here is wonderful!

#7 August 2005

Yesterday my physical therapist came to my room. He said "Lets go to walk up and down some stairs to practice." I agreed, and we went down this set of stairs and at the bottom there was a door, so he said "Hey, lets go in to here." It was the gym and he made me work out. What a mean little trickster. He knows I hate working out so he gave me a little fake-out. Meanie. I complain about him so much but my parents keep making me go. Its not like the things he has me do at the gym are hard but its frustrating because all I want to do is stay in my bed. But I get why I have to go-- I shouldn't just stay in bed my whole life.

And he head Dr. of this brain injury unit comes into my room at like 7:00 AM every morning with the widest eyes and he's so chipper and he's says "Good morning Bree, time to wake up!" And I want to kill him. I hate to wake up, I always have. They say I do all my healing while I sleep, so why don't they let me sleep more?

I just want to go home. I think I'll be fine if they just let me go back home. But oh no, my parents don't want me to go home yet and the Dr.s say I have to stay. I don't get why a Dr. has the right to tell you if you can leave or not.


My dress came while I was in a coma. I found pictures of it online and I called to find out more, but it was around $2,000. I've got better things to spend my $2,000 on so I sent pictures to a tailor in Hong Kong and took my measurements and sent those to them too. It was only about $200. Yay for me! Too bad I can't wear it yet.

#6 August 2005

The hospital lets me leave every-once-in-a-while. Eddie and I left once to go enjoy some time in a park, and I've been to my cousin's surprise anniversary thing, and last night I went to my other cousin's rehearsal dinner thing. That means my wedding was supposed to be one week ago exactly. I wouldn't have been a good, capable wife then but I wouldn't now either, although I am getting better very fast. It was great to see my relatives-- they are wonderful! But it was sad to see what I missed out on.
Tonight I'm going to their reception. I really did get screwed. But I'm happy that someone got to get married.

#5 August 2005

Last night I woke up and I needed to go to the bathroom. The nurses have been making a big deal about going to the bathroom for some reason. So I yelled at Eddie but he couldn't hear me (my voice is super weak!) and for some reason it didn't occur to me to push the button by my bed to call the nurse. So I tried to walk myself to the bathroom. Everyone is right, I can't walk well, especially not alone. So, as soon as a stood up I fell. That woke poor Eddie up! He came running over to help saying that I could have hit my head as I fell or something. He was all worked up over it!
We decided not to tell anyone because he feels bad because I fell on his watch and I don't want to give people another reason to fuss over me. Thats getting old. My Mom always has someone here watching me.
Here is our solution: we took a soda can and put pennies in it. That way I can shake it to make noise. I would do this with the horses, but the intent there was to scare them so the would run.

#4 August 2005

So I told Eddie all my theories because I trust him so much. I told him I think it might have been my parents, but a better theory that is a bit more realistic is that it's my school. Like they're doing research? Or maybe the hospital is doing research? But Eddie told me I have to believe it. He had me feel this scar doing up the back of my head and he told me to check the side of my right rib cage. I guess they needed to operate on that part too when I was having surgery because my lung collapsed. I looked and there's this big, lumpy, purply scar there. But neither of them hurt?

I really don't get it but if thats what Eddie says maybe it's true.

Now that you mention it I have this dream-like memory thing where I was getting an MRI and this other one where Eddie's parents were showing me pictures on their computer of Eva Longoria. I really trust Eddie and my parents but its all so dramatic. That doesn't happen to anyone. I'm just some normal girl with a perfect life. If it's all true, then its not perfect anymore.

#3 August 2005

I learned to talk finally! My first words were to my hot fiancee, Eddie, the day of his birthday. When he was leaving for work (he sleeps in my room on a cot because my parents always want someone with me) I told him I love him. Cute, huh? The good thing about re-learning to walk and talk and stuff is that it makes for some really cute stories.

Being wheelchaired/walking with lots of support from nurses, we went to the hospital gift shop. The hospital gave me $20 to buy something for Eddie for his birthday. From the first second I walked in there I knew Eddie wouldn't want anything from there. It was just a typical tacky hospital gift shop. Or hospital "gift shoppe," if you will. So I just opted to get him a card and some balloons. The card is the ugliest thing ever but I was so tired standing I just took the first one I saw.

When Eddie got home from work I was so happy to see him and I even tried to steady my hand enough to put make up on for him for his birthday. He said I was so cute! He better think I'm cute, he asked me to marry him!

I wasn't with it and I was pretty tired, but from what I hear my Mom made him a cake out of brisket with frosting covering it. He said that he tried to cut it, but it was pretty tough, so he was thinking that my mom made the hardest cake ever. But then he discovered in was a big piece of meat, with the plastic bag and all. A while ago I told my mom that Eddie says he'd rather have a brisket than an actual cake. He's weird; he doesn't like sweet stuff.

#2, August 2005

My Dad is at work in CA so my therapist, Ron, wants me to walk to him when he gets back so I will have some work to do. But its so hard and tiring. Every day I have therapy where I go down stairs to go to my speech therapist, Paul, to work on learning to talk again. They say I will be able to talk normal pretty soon after I get talking. I guess its "cerebellar mutism," whatever that means. Then I go to the gym. They put me on this stepping machine thing to get me used to the walking motion again. I remember everything. Like I remember how to walk and all the words, but I just can't get my body to balance on my feet and my mouth to say the words. I still haven't figured this whole "coma" thing out yet.
They put me on this machine thing where you lay down and you're kind of crunched. Then you use your legs to push yourself up so your extended. It's supposed to strengthen your legs but it just made me throw up. I don't know, I think it was the motion or something. Gross, huh? Ron better not do that to me again!