You may have not noticed, but I haven’t been around online much lately. About a month ago I got on a Snowmobile with my husband for a lovely almost normal (except for the masks) outing with friends on the beautiful Haliburton trail. Little did I know, that that would be the last day I would feel myself for a while. I could feel my head sloshing back and forth in my helmet on that last run on the lake at high speed on that beautiful but windy day. I felt the effects almost immediately. Severe headache, nausea, dizziness. My sister-in-law called it a “flare-up”. Was my brain so very fragile? As if worrying about Covid wasn’t enough.
My doctor suggested I get off screens for two weeks. Completely. So I retreated. I was able to listen to a few podcasts (Brene Brown’s Unlocking Us) and an audiobook by David Eagleman about the brain called Livewired. I could tolerate the audio in small amounts. I found some “brain healing music” on Spotify. Siri became my best girl, AGAIN! My family just laughed at the ridiculous messages I sent them or just tried to figure out what the heck I was saying.
There was so much that I had forgotten: how much taking a shower or bright lights could put you out for an entire day. How winded you could get by taking a walk around the block with your dog or having a conversation with someone. How much screens were your enemy, but assistive technology a saviour.
And I worried.
Two weeks is so arbitrary. Last time it was 10 months before I was fully recovered.
I tried all of the things that I tried last time: Omega 3, Tumeric, Chiropractic, Massage, Acupuncture, Osteopathy and even Reiki. I kept thinking about my privilege and how many things I have been able to try in my quest to feel like myself again when this is not an option for many. I try to stay grateful. I keep reminding myself that none of this is nearly as bad as last time: that this was a warning from above to make better choices and to take better care of my fragile brain, and how much worse others are fairing.
On Saturday I was scheduled to do a Keynote for the the awesome Let’s Talk Science organization moderated by Alec Couros. It had been on my calendar for months. Right before our tech check last week I considered canceling but I had a whole week. I had started to work again and it wasn’t too bad when I controlled my environment. I would be fine, right? At the tech check I told the organizers about the situation and that I was having trouble finding words–that if I got off script I would struggle and that I might need help during the Q & A. I knew that Alec would be more than capable of taking over as he was a pro. We were all a little nervous.
I went to bed early, took my prescribed meds to get a good night’s sleep. I woke up, curled my hair, applied make up and went back to bed right until our tech check. Then it was go time. And honestly, I nailed it. There were a few moments where you might have been able to tell, but I seriously could not understand how I could have mustered the energy to pull it off. Was there a different part of my brain that kicked in? Why couldn’t that part of my brain always kick in?? I looked in the mirror afterwards; at the concealer covering my sunken eyes and the glaze which hinted at the pain of my headache, its ever present visor grip, and realized that to any onlooker I looked great. Normal.
I was in bed the whole rest of the day exhausted from the sheer energy of it.
Like any mental illness or brain injury there is no outward sign. No cast or bandaid. I am just one of many wearing physical and figurative masks. And we all walk among you.
I know I will get back to being me with time, whereas some others are not quite so lucky. Inspired by Brenè Brown’s podcast episode on the power of story, I captured some of my feelings and thoughts in my DBC Journal and eventually, when I am fully recovered plan to record the journey as a podcast in case it helps someone else. In the meantime, check out The Fire Within Book by Mandy Froehlich for the chapter I wrote about living with a concussion.
