Use the filters to browse the information we have available or to narrow your search results for a specific audience (e.g. caregivers, military, children), a preferred type of content (e.g. videos, blogs, articles), or by topics of interest (e.g. family concerns, legal issues, symptoms).
When a loved one sustains a serious head injury, there is certainly pain and hardship and the list of hardships is varied and long. TBI’s deliver potent cocktails of mental, emotional, physical, and psychological trauma not only to the injured person but also to their families.
My relationship with clinical depression goes back almost three decades. For reasons that even those intimately familiar with brain injury would be at a loss to explain, my depression virtually disappeared after my injury.
Some caregivers I know feel as if they are giving to the point of depletion. While some who have sustained a TBI and receive care may feel powerless and resentful with no control. This imbalance on both ends can create friction and despair.
Immediately following a brain injury, outsiders often reiterate to survivors how grateful they are for that person’s survival and how accepting they plan to b. But when put to the test in everyday life, we quickly discover it’s tough to respond with unwavering compassion.
Whether you choose to share your brain injury story publicly or document it privately for yourself, it can be surprisingly therapeutic to seize the narrative of your life. If I had kept my struggle inside, hidden from the world, I don’t know how I ever would have healed and moved on.
There seems to be no shortage of helpful tips and tricks about how to get through the holiday season as a brain injury survivor. But what about recovering after the holidays?
As caregivers, the people we care for depend on us to be consistent and reasonable, stable and strong. Setting our intentions may be one way of realigning ourselves with our values and goals, so we can continue to give care in a positive way. With that in mind, I’ll share with you what my intentions are for 2017.
Four years into the world of brain injury, caregiving, educating, processing my own grief and the extensive list that goes with a situation like ours, I have learned a lot about love and it's often quiet, unseen force.
I am one person who experienced a rather extreme trauma. I will always look at my life as “before and after.” I deem that to be a healthy mindset, one shared by most anyone who has lived through a life-altering event. But I’m tired of a mindset that separates me from the rest of humanity.
We often hear how differently survivors emerge from their experience, but one of the most unexpected outcomes in our post-TBI life is how vastly I have changed too. Why is it that caregivers, like survivors, also feel like new people?
As a survivor, I distinctly define the before and after. Everything was profoundly different in the before, and now we exist in the after. I can almost see the marker in my mind. This is what the after looked like a few nights ago...
Caregivers play a vital role in helping veterans recover from TBI and post-traumatic stress. In this article, four military caregivers describe the first major challenge they faced as they began taking on the role of caregiver.
Former Army Sgt. and Dole Caregiver Fellow Danny O'Neel helps fellow veterans who are struggling with how to get through each day. The biggest change for him, he says, was "learning how to listen."
Have you heard the term “new normal” lately? It’s been bouncing around for a few years and is used to describe the adjustments veterans and families go through when they return home from war. Have you ever wondered what it looks like?
When I resigned my teaching position in 2010 to stay home and care for Sean, it was devastating. ER trips were becoming part of our routine, as was calling at the last minute and requesting a sub so I could handle an emergency with Sean. As I sat listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall I was hit with my new reality: I could not continue down both these paths, something had to give.
After a brain injury more, of many things, is not better. It is not better to see more things around you; it is not better to be given more choices; it is not better to have more things to do...
I can see progress. I am not who I was before my accident. I am also not who I was in early recovery. In a few years, I will not be who I am today, as the healing will continue.
Four years later, as some of the dismal fog lifts, I can see that out of fear of letting anyone down, there have been many times that I’d proudly adorned the “I’m fine” mask. The truth is, there is no way to be the same Mom, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend or anything after every fiber of your being has suffered radical rewiring.
I know this is a hard truth, one that many doctors and insurance companies will scoff at, one that many people might think is unrealistic, but caring for the caregiver in tandem with the person who has a brain injury is vitally important. TBI caregivers need to be educated about brain injury and what it entails.
Make time for yourself, so you can make time for other people and other things. Put yourself last, and you will begin to fail miserably at the roles and responsibilities you aim to fulfill.
Here’s a question well worth exploring for caregivers: Am I reacting to daily events as if in crisis mode or am I responding? After the chaos of the first days and weeks of TBI, there’s much to be done; and a lot can be at stake if things are not properly handled as time goes by.