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Getting Back on the Bike

David Grant and his wife smiling into the camera
David A. Grant blogs about life after brain injury

My name is David A. Grant. I am a husband, a father, and a son. On November 11, 2010, I was unceremoniously forced to start closing the book on my old life and begin life anew as someone with a traumatic brain injury. My brain injury is singularly the most life-changing event of my life.

In this space, I will offer you the opportunity to see the world through the eyes of a survivor. I'll share my victories, my defeats, my pains, and my joys. My hope for other people with brain injury is that they will see reflections of their own lives in my words and know they are not alone. Learn more about David >

The Latest from David

My External Brain

David and his wife smiling in front of tall pine trees

Many years ago, I was introduced to a phrase that, before my brain injury, had not been part of my vocabulary: “compensatory strategies.” Why? Because prior to my injury, there had been nothing to compensate for. I was a fully formed and completely functional adult. Strategies were for board games.

My Relationship with Depression

David and his wife smiling in a garden

My life will forever be marked by that day in November of 2010 when I sustained a brain injury after being hit by a car while riding my bicycle. It was a true "before and after" scenario. However, an unexpected consequence followed: my decades-long depression disappeared. I was as stunned as anyone …

Lost Memories and Living in the Present: Reflections of a Brain Injury Survivor

David and his wife smiling in front of trees on a sunny day

Over the last couple of years, I’ve discovered mindfulness and have learned the value of living life “in the moment.” It’s a learned skill that has enabled me to find peace in my life. In what amounts to almost an irony, I no longer have much of my past to recall. The future never really comes. By circumstance, rather than any virtue, I am now forced to live in the moment.

Ignoring the Inner Narrative

David and his wife smiling by a sunny pier

Living with a brain injury is, by far, the most complicated thing I have ever done. There have been great joys, stunning victories, and, somehow against all odds, I’ve carved out this amazing life. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself that just because I think something, doesn’t mean that it’s true. 

Good News Disguised as Bad News

David and his wife smiling surrounded by foliage

Last month, I found out that I qualified for a Cornell University research study about brain injury.... I ruefully admit that I was nervous going into the testing. What brokenness in me would they find? I do pretty well these days, well enough that most people might not notice my challenges. But I still have an ego and can be more sensitive that I care to admit.

The Inherent Uncertainty of Life After Brain Injury

David and his wife, wearing "Wild African Trek" vests, smile in front of a hippopotamus

If there’s one thing that is all but guaranteed after a brain injury, it’s uncertainty. So much of what we face as survivors is unique to the brain injury community. Brain injury is often — but not always — invisible to others and no two brain injuries are alike. The challenges I face are often different from those other survivors face. Often invisible, and always unpredictable, brain injury is a unique confluence of challenges.

Surviving My Flood of 2022

David and his wife smiling from a simulated space station

This is the month that I mark 12 years as a brain injury survivor. These “crash anniversaries” have pushed me to reflect; it’s hard not to look back at the “before and after” chapters of my life — sifting, shuffling, and reinterpreting the contents of each.

Staying in the Middle Lane

David and his wife smiling by a cabin in the woods

Almost 12 years ago my life changed forever as I joined the brain injury club, a club that no one ever expects — or wants — to be part of. And early on, the phrase “recovery is lifelong” completely and totally annoyed me. I had always been and remain a classic Type A personality. So, it comes as no surprise that I wanted no part of the “recovery is lifelong” model of living out the rest of my life. My plan was to get over my brain injury and move on. 

Why I Chose Not To Listen

David gives a thumbs up while tandem sky-diving with an instructor in a clear blue sky

Last month, Sarah and I took a trip to rural Maine for another first-time life experience. I was more excited than fearful when I jumped out of a plane at 14,000 feet and I can now add skydiver to my life résumé! Had I listened to the advice I received from doctors a decade earlier, the thought of jumping out of a plane would have seemed preposterous.

Ambiguous Grief After Brain Injury

David and his wife smiling in front of pine trees on a sunny day

To be human is to grieve, and everyone grieves differently and in their own time. But there is a type of grief that many people experience that is less common, less talked about, but none the less real and painful. It’s called ambiguous grief or ambiguous loss.

Life After Brain Injury: No One Recovers Alone

David Grant and his wife wearing sunglasses, smiling in front of a tropical lagoon

It’s not a stretch to say that without my sife, Sarah, I never would have made it. While I can be overly dramatic — as she can attest — I need to get serious for a moment. No kidding around: the early years after my brain injury sucked. In fact, they were the worst years of my life.  

Living the Survivor Life: 11 Years Out

A photo of David Grant in a dark blue t-shirt and his wife in a heather rose t-shirt in front of tall bamboo and palm trees

My early year look-backs were filled with profound sadness, and a sense of loss so overwhelming that I felt smothered by it. Thankfully, that is no longer the case. It’s been long enough that I’ve all but forgotten who I was before my brain injury; that person no longer exists. The very fact that I’m no longer bothered by this is a sure sign that my soul is growing.