On Thursday, I have just one session at the World Congress on Brain Injury. It’s gender, sex and brain injury at 10:30 a.m. I feel more like a health reporter today, but still my handwriting’s slow and deliberate like an architect’s. I’m tired. The first talk looks at how gender influences women’s experiences of TBI … Continue reading 6/ Sex and the brain
Uncategorized
5/ Pink survivors
There’s no break before the final Pink Concussions summit panel, and I don’t take one. Big mistake. Six brain injury survivors are on stage telling their stories. Freya: Held under water, thrown off a porch, strangled until assumed dead. Intimate partner violence. (My notes: Had never thought how big this is. 4:39 tired and need … Continue reading 5/ Pink survivors
4/ Pink concussions, Clark Kent and social isolation
The first of three Pink Concussions sessions is over, and I stumble into the foyer. “What did you think?” asks founder and CEO Katherine Snedaker. Overwhelming, I say. Good. There’s so much! “Were you triggered?” she asks. Triggered. Ah, yes. That’s what’s happening. I do my Clark Kent thing, enter a washroom stall, close my … Continue reading 4/ Pink concussions, Clark Kent and social isolation
3/ Don’t look back
I happen to sit down next to a jetlagged, soft-spoken doctor from Australia. “Don’t look back,” he says. He’s giving me advice to manage a brain injury, but it sounds more like a line from Orpheus and Eurydice. With 35 years in the field, he knows of what he speaks. Rehab taught me the same … Continue reading 3/ Don’t look back
2/ Press, no press
A 13th World Congress on Brain Injury press pass dangles from my neck. When someone asks whom I write for, I launch into a monologue that I repeat several times during the day. I’m press, but actually I’m recovering from a brain injury. This is my first conference in 22 months! (Self-conscious smile.) I haven’t … Continue reading 2/ Press, no press
1/ My journey to the World Congress on Brain Injury
Three of us entered the therapist’s office that Monday morning: me, my brain-injured self and my pre-injury über-me. I guess it’s obvious from the words I’m using who was on top that day. Also, that we weren’t a coherent whole. When the session started, Dr. Bicycle could barely keep up with us. “I’d been thinking … Continue reading 1/ My journey to the World Congress on Brain Injury
Showing up for myself
This morning I’m putting off writing. I’m doing everything possible except sitting down to write. I’m not doing it on purpose, I don’t think. Writing’s at the top of my list of things to do. Want to do. Need? Those questions are just the tip of the iceberg. Or are they the deepfreeze core? I’ll … Continue reading Showing up for myself
All that remains
I drove past my old elementary school the other day. To see what it looks like now that it’s gone. To bid a final adieu.It turned out that demolition was still in progress.The eastern end of the Metro Toronto School for the Deaf was all but obliterated. A façade of first-floor windows, functioning as a … Continue reading All that remains
Breathing my mother, breathing myself
Since my accident, I’ve been practising self-care. I take time. I allow for rest. I try to just be. But when my mother goes by ambulance to the hospital, time goes berserk. Will mom make it through surgery? Will she get out of the ICU? I’ve learned to breathe, and I find myself breathing my … Continue reading Breathing my mother, breathing myself
My dog days of summer
On a morning of non-stop drizzle, when everyone’s gone into town to find Wi-Fi, the dogs and I are having a nap. We’re holding down the summer fort, so to speak. Hanging out because, well, that’s how we roll. My sister’s golden retriever, Tekla, is blissed out under the red Ikea chair by the window. … Continue reading My dog days of summer
Postcards from my brain 