Long road of recovery from head injury
At first, we would have 2 good minutes, followed by a week in bed, with a ice pack wrapped in a tea towel, dark room, no company and headphones to block out the noise.
Now, 16 months later, we have 3-5 good days. Followed by 2-5 bad days. In bed. With icepack. Tea towel. Headphones. Alone.
I admire how he keeps going.
Good days means functional days, means days he's not in bed. Days were I see him, some of the time. Where he can run errands, get around, do stuff around the house.
Therapy started with walking and talking. Both were hard. Both at the same time, impossible. At first we didn't get much farther than a block.
Then again, on good days, even then, we would do 15 minutes. After 5 minutes, talking became hard. The last block, I would support him, his eyes unfocused on the place right in front of his feet. He would stumble up the front stairs.
ICBC assigned an occupational therapist. To walk and talk with him. Many sessions were canceled at first, because the headache was too much.
Then came exercise and talk. Count the number of repetitions in your head, talk to the OT, and do exercises. Very difficult at first. Often a session with the OT was the end of a good day, and the start of many bad ones.
Now, several times a month, the OT and him make it to the gym. Exercise, keeping track of the repetitions, while there is noise and movement all around.
Sessions still are canceled. Because he can't make it out of bed.
He has a headache every waking second. Some moments, few moments, it is barely there. Some moments, many moments, the pain is disabling.
A week or so ago, the OT and him went for a walk, and found a forested area. The OT remarked what a wonderful bike trail this would be. When Tyler came home he said to me how sad that made him. Because he had to stop looking around half way through the walk, because his brain was getting overwhelmed. Because he will probably never ride a bike again. Too dangerous, said the doctor. Imagine you fall and hit your head again. That would be it.
Now, 16 months later, we have 3-5 good days. Followed by 2-5 bad days. In bed. With icepack. Tea towel. Headphones. Alone.
I admire how he keeps going.
Good days means functional days, means days he's not in bed. Days were I see him, some of the time. Where he can run errands, get around, do stuff around the house.
Therapy started with walking and talking. Both were hard. Both at the same time, impossible. At first we didn't get much farther than a block.
Then again, on good days, even then, we would do 15 minutes. After 5 minutes, talking became hard. The last block, I would support him, his eyes unfocused on the place right in front of his feet. He would stumble up the front stairs.
ICBC assigned an occupational therapist. To walk and talk with him. Many sessions were canceled at first, because the headache was too much.
Then came exercise and talk. Count the number of repetitions in your head, talk to the OT, and do exercises. Very difficult at first. Often a session with the OT was the end of a good day, and the start of many bad ones.
Now, several times a month, the OT and him make it to the gym. Exercise, keeping track of the repetitions, while there is noise and movement all around.
Sessions still are canceled. Because he can't make it out of bed.
He has a headache every waking second. Some moments, few moments, it is barely there. Some moments, many moments, the pain is disabling.
A week or so ago, the OT and him went for a walk, and found a forested area. The OT remarked what a wonderful bike trail this would be. When Tyler came home he said to me how sad that made him. Because he had to stop looking around half way through the walk, because his brain was getting overwhelmed. Because he will probably never ride a bike again. Too dangerous, said the doctor. Imagine you fall and hit your head again. That would be it.
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