Head Cases Micheal Paul Mason, Farrar, Straus and Giroux (page 4 of 6) Page 4 of 6

For six years after the evaluation, Melissa endured all the same frustrations and setbacks common to brain injury survivors. The neuropsychologist had recommended a specific course of treatment, but in the end, the healthcare system in Canada was no better equipped to handle brain injury than that of any other country. She struggled to find service providers and was forced to travel hundreds of miles to see specialists who could do very little for her. One occupational therapist came into her home and offered to organize her closet by color, so that she could pick her clothes out more efficiently. Melissa felt humiliated by the therapist’s perception of her. She didn’t need help getting dressed; she needed her old brain back.

Because of the continuing costs of her care, her case mushroomed into a long-standing litigation with her insurer, which brought her more stress and health problems. As a particularly malicious tactic often used in similar cases, the insurance company claimed they had overpaid her, so that she would be put into financial duress. The tactic worked. Her financial life teetered on the brink of bankruptcy; even her parents suffered setbacks to their retirement on her behalf. She eventually resigned from her job, feeling conquered and inadequate because she simply could not meet her responsibilities.

Physically, Melissa had deteriorated significantly. She ached to return to a swimming pool or lake, but when she entered the water the motion caused her to lose her bearings to the point where she couldn’t figure out which direction she faced. Swimming felt like drowning. As if the prison of inactivity wasn’t restrictive enough, Melissa developed regular bouts of idiopathic anaphylaxis, a severe, stress-related allergic reaction that required her to be within forty-five minutes of a hospital at all times. Almost twice a year, Melissa’s body would revolt with anaphylactic shock. Her throat would constrict until it closed, her eyes would swell shut, and hives covered her body until a strong-enough steroid could be administered in an emergency room. She was well aware that the reaction could someday bring with it another brain injury, or possibly death.

Melissa might have been rendered helpless against her brain injury, but she felt certain she could find a way to minimize the anaphylaxis. She began to research stress reduction techniques and eventually stumbled onto a holistic center that offered a five-day integrative program based on techniques developed by the University of Massachusetts Medical School. The core principle of the program was the cultivation of mindfulness through guided meditations. As Melissa studied the program in detail, she worried that her brain injury might not allow her to fully benefit from the program. She decided to enroll anyway.

“Those five days were grueling,” she recalls. “We would start with gentle yoga, then meditate until nine at night.” During that retreat Melissa learned about the various attitudes of mindfulness, and she participated in self-discovery exercises. The point, as she understood it, was to tap into the powerfully curative characteristic of awareness and to generate so much of it that she might be able to apply it to ordinary everyday life. Even the most mundane act, like washing dishes, could be transformed by simply paying attention.

It was during one of the exercises that Melissa experienced a sudden clarity. She had been instructed to think about the pleasant events in her life, and she noticed that each time she did, she would undermine herself with a barrage of malicious thoughts.

“That was my biggest problem,” she tells me. “I realized that I was always comparing myself to my preinjury self. I was trapped in a vicious cycle of rumination and depression.”

That one instant of awareness shed enough light to convince her to continue in her development of mindfulness. Maybe this was something she could be good at, at last. After the retreat, Melissa began a disciplined schedule of daily meditation and yoga. Although her initial intent was to alleviate the likelihood of anaphylactic shock, she began to notice other changes.

“Right away it improved my concentration, and it improved my mood swings,” she says. “I was a lot less irritable, and my memory started improving because I could attend more. My family was even starting to notice all this.”

During a trip with her parents and her sister, Melissa began to see the signs herself. Prior to meditating, she would get sickened just watching the trees whip past the car window. Typically, one day of family interaction exposed her to so much stimulation that she needed to withdraw out of exhaustion. On this trip, however, she stopped cocooning herself in her cabin room. The headaches and dizziness had evaporated, along with the agitation and moodiness. When Melissa emerged from her room the following day and joined her family, they were shocked at her presence.

“You can be around us again!” her sister said.

The changes were so significant that Melissa wondered if mindfulness could benefit other brain injury survivors. Knowing that graduate school might prove an insurmountable hurdle, she applied and was accepted into a master’s  program in adult and continuing education. Through her  affiliation with a local university, the encouragement of her professors, and support from a hospital, Melissa made an arrangement to conduct her first foray into research. She had chosen a group of brain injury survivors who agreed to engage in a seven-week training in mindfulness. Melissa would then track the group for any indicators that the practice changed their lives.

Case 19 in The Gateless Gate contains the following koan:

Joshu¯ earnestly asked Nansen, “What is the Way?” Nansen answered, “The ordinary mind is the Way.” Joshu¯ asked, “Should I direct myself toward it or not?” Nansen said, “If you try to turn toward it, you go against it.” Joshu¯ asked, “If I do not try to turn toward it, how can I know it is the Way?” Nansen answered, “The Way does not belong to knowing or not-knowing. Knowing is delusion, not-knowing is blank consciousness. When you have really reached the true Way beyond all doubt, you will find it vast and boundless as the great empty firmament. How can it be talked about on a level of right and wrong?” At these words, Joshu¯ was suddenly enlightened.

From Head Cases by Michael Paul Mason, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC. Copyright © 2008 by Michael Paul Mason. All rights reserved. To view or the book, go to www.amazon.com. For more information about author and brain injury case manager Michael Paul Mason, go to www.michaelpaulmason.com.

 Comments [2]