Over the hills, and far away... (What the lawyer said)

Yesterday, I busied myself with packing up my things, and was ready to go, except for breakfast.  I'd been upstairs, sorting, and packing.  I didn't want to get distracted by going down stairs, but I also didn't realize how much time I was taking.  I figured it would take over an hour, but my clothes were in 3 diffent  bags, from laundry, and visits, and gifts, yikes.  It was a bigger task, than I'd assumed.  I hoped to leave with less bags, than I'd arrived with.  No such luck.  My dad arrived, and willingly schlepped everything down to his truck.  The truck is a classic Maine rig.  It's a 1988 Chevy with intermittent heating capabilities.  It's never warmer than 50 degrees, even less on sub zero temp.  I found myself putting on another pair of  wooly scks, partway into the drive.  It was trying,but my feet couldn't stay warm.  It wasn't the usual 45,minute drive to Belfast, it was a grand 3 hour  jaunt to Bangor.  Bangor is relatively foreign territory for me.  I never went up there as a kid, although, I've made several trips since acquiring this injury, it still seems unfamiliar, and strange.  I also think of Sean, now, since he brought me up there once.  My lawyer is based up there.  Last summer, I got a letter informing me the lawyer I'd been working with, had passed away from cancer, and a new lawyer had taken over my case.  If you're curious, we are suing Bayer, the drug company that manufactured Yaz.  I was taking Yaz, when I suffered the cardiac arrest, and it was later determined to have been the cause of my impromptu cardiac arrest.  The fact that I survived, and have regained as many connections in my brain, as I have is un fathomable to me.  6 years later, I'm quite happy to be alive. Feel like my perspective on life is invariably unique, however, still similar to myself,  prior to losing the life. To which I was accustomed.  You know, stuff like independence, mobility, and oh yes, the ability to see.  I see well now, but I had a trying couple of years, where my brain could not process what my eyes said, they saw.  That may seem like an odd analogy, but sight is a sense.  Your eyes tell you what's going on around you.  The synapses that relay the message ny eyes give my brain, disappeared.  I still don't see as well as a normally sighted person, but I'll happily take what I can regain.

I've never been so mentally together, as I am today, I'm still not where I was, but I'm happy I can recognize those differences now.  It's taken my brain a long time to realize the differences, outside of my physical difficulties.  I'm okay, that I will never again be who I was at 23.  Although I'm livid, that I did everything I could to maintain a healthy, safe (relatively) lifestyle.  I was very active, had trained for, and completed my first sprint triathlon, and  had gone on a week long backpacking expedition in the Adirondacks, weeks before my heart stopped.   I was stressed about figuring out my next step, until, an amazing. Opportunity fell in my lap.  My dad had contact with a woman who ran a nonprofit, bearing her name.  I met her, discussed what she was looking for, and accepted the position, or an offer to test the waters.  The major caveat? I'd need to move to Texas.  I even had family there, and wasn't happy about moving to a red state, on my own.  But, I knew that job could be a very helpful stepping stone.  I left September 12th, to get the lay of the land, decide if I'd be the right fit.  Of course stress is a factor not to be discounted, in mcardiac arrest.  Although, if I look at the stress I've endured since my heart stopped, sep. 11th, 2007, I should've suffered at least 3 more cardiac arrests.  Losing Sean was the most difficult experience, I could've imagined, he'd been my lifeline, and my reason to stay afloat.  When he left,  I drowned in my own misery for longer than I'd like to admit.  Just as I'd begun to develop my self assurance, and willingness to push myself, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.  I knew I couldn't help, directly, so I tried to push through, by mentally distracting myself with school.  The busier I stayed, the less the idea of losing my mom, was on my mind.  It's hard for most anyone t see a loved family member so very ill, with an uncertain outcome.  Of course, she did make it, and still struggles with lasting symptoms, and ill effects.  I could draw some comparisons, of which there are plenty, but she was able to recover her presiding life, within a year.  Living independently, got her horse back, and her physical mobility back.  Her life is different, but still has her passions.  In that sense, I can't relate, I lost everything, physically, and mentally, and I still haven't reached any kind of self dependence.  Nor do I have the ability to get up, and go do the things I love, right when the inclination strikes.  We all lean on oneanther, to clear the major hurdles, but when the dust settles, you have to rely on yourself to pick up the pieces, and put things back together.  

Seeing a lawyer to discuss the possibility of financial compensation for what happened to me, seems preposterous, in the harsh light of day.  I chose to take a prescription to avoid becoming pregnant.  The drug made me relatively ill each day, but, I didn't get pregnant.  If I could've known I was choosing between poor timing to have a baby, and the strange, ridiculous manner of living I've needed to become accustomed to, I'd much rather be a single mom, over the anomaly, my life is today.

My previous lawyer Sam, passed away from cancer.  He'd been quite impressive, very on top of things, in the know, with regard to my case.  Lobbying the Senate to support lawsuits involving the manufacturers of prescription drugs.  In my case, I need to go after Bayer, who manufactured Yaz. The contraceptive which stopped my heart.  Really, death was not my ideal form of contraceptive.  Sure, it's effective in preventing pregnancy, but let's face it, it prevents everything else too.  Really, not what I had in mind.  Thanks to the quick action of Sean, and imaginably my roommates, I made it to the hospital, and perplexed countless doctors.  I was young, in good shape, mo addictions, there was no clear reason as to why my heart stopped.  Eventually, a possible link was established, between Yaz, and my cardiac arrest.  Labs also indicated that I'd had a lower than normal level of the essential acid, creatinine.  According to my doctor friend, low is normal, and no real cause for alarm.  My lawyer also said a similar thing, when I asked what the indication could be.  I will be livid, if my case in gets dismissed, on such a trivial detail.  Suing, in my opinion, isn't fair restitution, for the damages my life sustained.  Yes, money can be helpful, but it also comes with more regulation, concern, research, etc.  it could make life easier, in some respects, but I would need to learn to manage it appropriately.  Although, given that I am 1 of 23,000, or some ridiculously high number of women, seeking retribution for damages, in a mass claim, I very much doubt I'll see much of anything.  It's absurdly maddening to think about.  Also horrifies me that Yaz, is still on the market, under a different name, Ocella, now.  Money really does rule the world, and apparantely, indidual lives are a minor cost, in the face of a billion/trillion? dollar corporation.not so proud to be American,bright now.

What the Dr. Says...

Today, I had my annual neurology exam, and question and answer time with my original neurologist, since day one.  The first couple years, it was bi annual, then it became annually.  Brain injury rehabilitation is so painfully sloooow.  I remember breaking my finger at age 12,  and being so bummed I couldn't ride my bike, for a whole month.  It was devastating.  Then in college I dislocated my elbow, which was frustrating because of the sling.  The worst was breaking my right hand when I crashed my bicycle in a race.  I'm right handed, and I had a job, where is used a computer, but couldn't use my right hand.  My typing speed decreased ten fold that year, but I still had no idea what I was in for 2 years down the road.

My questions for today were largely focused on my overall progression over the past 6 years.  I've already learned they cannot predict what's in store.  Otherwise I wouldn't be writing my life lessons, as learned from my brain injury.  I'd hoped to see my original brain scans, to get a better idea of which places had seen the greatest damage.  I also, was hoping for a then, and now type scan analysis.  My friend, Anna,who suffered a frontal lobe injury, has images done relativly often.  Apparently my images are inconclusive, meaning they could not  see profound damage, in any one spot.  Just tiny flecks all over.  No wonder they don't push to aid, or save the lives of people who lose Oxygen to their brains.  Their  wonderful imaging machine is unreliable, so it must not be possible for anyone to survive.  It feels very strange to be the only known survivor, of a severe anoxic injury.  There's no one else to relate to. When I'm explaining this to different people I meet, I've asked, "have you heard of Anoxia?"  When two different peole said yes, and started talking about music, I was lthinking, "well, that's a weird diversion, but, I'll head off now."  Eventually, I discovered , 'Anoxia' is the name of grunge looking band, thanks to the google machine.  At least it seems like a more reasonable segway to music, but I now share an unknown medical condition, with a somewhat unpleasant looking band.  Awesome.

So, what is anoxia?  It's a lack,of oxygen, simply.   I suffered an anoxic brain injury, brcausemy heart   stopped, and no Oygen traveled to my brain.  This occurrence apparently is  regarded as the end, for people, as no one has ever been sustained to a place, where they could have the opportunity to create the new connections.  I would love to say that I feel what happened to me, had to have been the most frustrating acquired disability, in that realm.  But, EVERY disability, must be the most frustrating concept to overcome, as you learn to face it.  There's an amazing book called, 'The adversity Advantage' by Erik Weinmeyer, whose unbelievable feat of summiting Mt. Everest, blind, is one of his many climbs to fame.  The book details what it was like, seeing his vision gradually disappear, as an adolescent.  My point being that while my vision is a strange, beautiful anomaly, because it returned, but also that you have take what life hands you, and put it into a positive perspective.  Life gives us lots of hurdles, some bigger than others, but we all need yo make the best of what we have, since the one thing we have not figured out how to replicate, or sustain to no end, is life.

In conclusion, seeing Dr. Gorman for my annual visit, was not as fulfilling as I'd hoped. Always pleasant, but Id wanted a visual scale, by which to measure my improvements.  Bummer for me, it's not possible.  I just have to keep self evaluating my progress, got something new and different...  The only positive thing about the lack of medical knowledge with regard, is that no one can define my limitations.  The brain is the only organ we posess, with the ability to rewrite itself.  Whatever I cannot do today, I can hope to do tomorrow.   As they say, hope springs eternal.

What is this?

With the onset of a new year, I  am looking forward to getting my life back on track.  Adaptive recreation has clearly become a passion, but I'm finding it difficult to forge a bridge back to meaningful employment, and getting away from public funding.  Of course they've been immensely helpful, and have allowed me to sustain myself throughout my rehabilitation process, and for that I'm extremely thankful.  However, being appreciative for the asisstance I've received through this enduring journey, does not mean it has been easy.  As a country, we should not be proud, nor impressed by the sullen, cross, power tripped out people, that are some of the faces of government asisstance.  I've become cross myself, with talking, and intereacting with certain groups, in this regard.  It would be great if I was a better person, but if somebody intentionally tries to put me in a box, or has a complete disregard for the situation, I get upset, and once I get control over that, I've had to  learn to put away my feelings, in this situation, because they're unwanted, and make the situation more difficult.  I suppose much of life can be like that, but the lessons I have to repeat, I always think, 'well, duh, I used to know that, why is this so hard now.'  I guess it's a similar feeling of being a timid kid, left to your own devices, at your parents work.  I was happy doing my own thing, drawing, reading, whatever, until, someone approached me.  Of course they were kind, but I'd be totally intimidated.  I was the little kid that hid behind my mom, when she took me to cocial events.  Eventually, I grew out that, as I learned that people weren't so scary, as they sometimes seemed.  Now, I'm 29, 6 years after losing all those early social lessons, and it's been a very trying go of it, in that perspective, mostly because I don't have family to lean on, here.  I definitely have people I'm close with, but it's helpful to be around the people your brain is wired like.

Social situations are still the hardest, and they may always be.  Though, the more I put myself out there, the more comfortable others become, with regard to being comfortable around someone with unique challenges.  This is something I feel is somewhat common for people of different abilities, of course I know I'm very different from others now, my visual abilities, aren't what they were, I can't impulsively move, and not fall, I have a really hard time recognizing people, and I have to use all of my focus, and concentration to be understood, the first time I try to speak to someone.  There are fun medical terms for many of my difficulties, and while I know what they are, writing them out like that, seems like an unforgiving laundry list, of all the things i still have difficulty with.  However, in a choice between not living, and the hardships I've faced, it's life, and relearning everything, all the way.

I will never be the girl I was, at the onset of my injury, again.  I came to terms with that, a ways back,and, have to focus on moving forward.  Whether my high point of the day is the fact that I got my cookie sheet of the oven, and did not burn myself, or that I ran 13.1 miles, and then went in the ocean.  On order to ditsy afloat, I can no longer pick myself apart over the things I can't do.  Instead, it's about taking a moment to realize how far my brain has brought me, especially, from where it was, 6 years back.

"Miss representation..."

I was checking Upworthy's daily dose of random videos shedding light on a variety of issues.  I usually can't watch them all, in one go, as they can cover such profound topics, from the intricacies of American healthcare framework, to something outrageous Miley Cyrus has done, to heartwarming clip of little girls expressing their drams, and lastly there's often a memorial type clip, celebrating the life of a recently passed famous person.  I think it's a great service, and I appreciate more positive outlook, and  model based on awareness, and education.  Yes, it's cool, like that.  I was struck by a video cop most recently, called 'Miss Representation, and it lights the profound amount of negative media attention women receive.  Personally, I don't have cable, and really don't miss it.  Though, the chiefly misrepresented women, are those in politics, although none are immune.  Check it out, see what you think...

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Ladies weekend!!

I have a group of 7 or 8 girlfriends I went to HS with, who've remained quite close, as the years have passed.  A few are married, and live far away, the others are all the New England area, still.  We have random intermittent getogethers whenever possible.  After I missed the last opportunity, by confusing my travel dates for a wedding, I was pretty bummed.  I missed the opportunity to see everyone, near and far.  As a result, 4 of the more local gals came over  to VT, for a visit.  This hasn't worked out in 5 years, and I couldn't be more thankful have such an amazing group of strong, talented ladies to help motivate me.  Were all pretty different, but somehow the mix, and array of goals, dreams, accomplishments, and even loss, has held us together.  Val has always been there for me, with regular visits, and a comforting, and sarcastic demeanor, I look forward to catching up, whenever possible.  She and  Hazel hatched a plan to coordinate with Erin, and Melissa, and somehow, against all odds, they all appeared at my door, last Saturday.  I know I have nothing to be nervous about when they come to visit, but I cleaned repeadly before they came, and still thought my apartment looked crammed, and messy.  It was as clean as it gets, these days, but I haven't moved in 4 years, and still have a lot of junk that's no longer relevant, in every corner.

No one cared, and I saw the momentarily open floor space become filled with their stuff.  It felt like high school, all over again, cramming everyone into one room.  We decided to go for an extremely brisk walk along the waterfront.  The arctic feeling wind came across the lake, with a chilling bite.  We walked about 2 miles round trip, we got to where the beach begins, and picked up pace, even more, returning.  We hit 2 of my routine stops in that area.  Skinny Pancake for hot drinks to warm up, and then the Peace and Justice Cener next door, where I volunteer.  I rarely look around the store, so I had fun looking more closely at the retail.

The next stop was Outdoor Gear Exchange, and finally dinner at The Farmhouse, a local eatery featuring predominantly local ingredients for all dishes served.  We had to wait about 40 min. In the bar ((darn) to get a table.  This is a master business plan, to have the bar downstairs, and send the wait list down there.  Hands down, they serve the best burger  in town, so that's what I had.  The meal was delightful, all around, and I felt so blessed to be in such great company.

The next morning Melissa and Erin were the early risers, who dared to venture into the frozen, snowy tundra to go running.  I'm terrified of ice, and loosing my balance, so I didn't go out, but Melissa čame back with great pictures of a dam I couldn't identify.  Eventually we rallied for a late breakfast at Magnolias, a favored downstairs brunch spot, of mine.  I'd recently had a conversation about steel-cut oatmeal, and that person had mentioned that their oatmeal was A-mazing.  So, that's what I had, though, I believe we all  felt contended through the 4 hr drive back to Maine, after that meal.  It was sad to have the weekend disappear in a flash, but in was so grateful to share parts of my life with them all.  I am sure that having friends I admire, like these ladies, has helped me to look for the good in my situation, and to stay strong, in hopeless times.

Fears chilling grip

Today began in great fashion.  I had an immediate victory, when my alarm went off at seven, and I got up, and stayed up.  Any day I do that, it's a victory, in my book!  I got some breakfast, and then set about playing with my apple peeler device, to make apple pie.  I don't know what it is, about this device, and even though I've had my dad re-explain how to use it, on nearly every trip, I cannot do it.  At a certain point I get so pissed at myself, I walk away and give up.  Ny roommate comes out, and I ask for his help.  It takes him all of 30 second to tell me to flip a lever, I'd already messed with.  I stuck an apple on,only to realize they are too soft.  Note to self, do not leave apple in the fridge for 2 weeks,  and expect them to be usable.  Feeling defeated by own idiocy, I retired to the couch to send some emails. At 1030 Marc (roommate/aide) dropped me off downtown at the department of Labor.  I wouldn't choose to make this a regular destination, however this is the current location of the TBI support groups, which I recently became a facilitator of.  Attendance has been extremely minimal recently.  However I young man showed up, whom I'd never met before.  We shared our stories, and he'd recently gone back to his job at Burton snowboards.  It was wonderful to meet such a kind soul.  It was a good meeting, even though there was a sole attendee.  It was probably the first time I've appreciate the role of facilitor, and felt like I could put my strangely vast knowledge of TBI program tips and tricks to use.

After the meeting, I headed to outdoor gear exchange to ask about fixing a tear in a down jacket.  I got what I needed, but not before being swayed by a deal on pro meal bars.  They taste amazing,  and have saved me from 'hangry' siituations.  I then trundled down Chrurch st. to grab the bus I needed to get to PT.  As I was seething over my ATM card not working, for no apparent reason,a young man walked by turned around, and came back, said "I LOVE YOU, I have a mental disability, but you need to know I love you!'  Normally this behavior frightens me, and get I feel angry because I can't flee quickly.  But this was really sweet, and made me smile. I caught by bus, feeling great.

I made it to PT, and started with a great session.  I was moving fluidly, even doing my push-ups felt good.  I was having a hard time with my right shoulder though.  Nearly every motion was more painful than norma.  l My PT suggested we try electric stimulation to loosen up the joint. It's a bizarre tingling sensation, but as he increased the frequency I started to freak out.  Tears began streaming down my face, and I felt frightened.  The more intense the stimulation got, the more it reminded of these sensation  in my heart, when I got shocked 107 consecutive times by an internal defribilatof, whose lead detached, ans shocked me consecutively, until I could be transported to another hospital, with a means of deactivating the device.  I rarely think of it, these days, and had no idea, anything as as simple as pulsing therapeutic pad on my shoulder could ever give me a panic attack.  I tried to tell myself I was safe, and it was impossible for me to have another shock from a defibrillator. as I no longer have one.  I didn't have the mental ability to deal with that situation, and when I felt the stimulation on my shoulder, it all came back.  I asked Ray, the PT, to tell me a story, but he couldn't start before I completely lost it.  I'd hoped that distraction would get me through, but I lost my cool, I couldn't even hear him, and suddenly demanded he take it off my shoulder.  I slowly calmed down, as he took it off my shoulder, but the trauma of that incident was still so fresh. They tried a heating pad, instead,and the pain lessened.   As soon as I got to the locker room, my emotionalal dam burst, and I called a couple people for a ride, but couldn't get anyone.  So I caught the bus.  As I walked back to my apartment, from the bus stop, I realized that even though I didn't receive a blunt force traumatic brain injury, my injury, I  still harbors plenty of trauma, that I've been unable to deal with.  I hope that the fear attack, I had from the electronic stimululator was a one time resurgence of the greater difficulties surrounding my inpatient days.  Those are not days I'd wish upon anyone.  I was extremely fortunate to have the support of family, and friends, which is absolutely why I still look for the best outcome, and still push for it.

A day in the life of...

My alarm goes of at 7, however, I've adapted an unpleasant skill of getting up, turning it off, and dozing through the morning news on VPR.  I have NEVER been a morning person.  It's not my finest time of day, but that's how the cookie crumbles.  Today, I dragged myself out of my cave of covers, when the fire alarms started blaring.  This upset me for 2 reasons.  1. No one finds the blaring fire alarm sound, pleasant.  Think elementary school, when you had to march outside, and it was so loud you thought your ears were bleeding.  We don't have to go outside, but I sure wanted to.  I quickly ate, and threw my things together, and walked to my first appointment.  It's probably 3/4 of a mile, and is great walk, if the weathers okay.  I have to cross the bridge, and go to an old mill.  The building is enormous and contains an oddly large number of yoga studios, for one building (3+).

There I see a rehab. Psychologist.  It's not the easiest thing in the world for me to sit down and talk about what bothers me, or things I'm having trouble with.  However, this one is pretty is pretty good at it.  I left, extremely pleased the sun was out.  It was a short uphill trek to the bus stop.  I reached the crosswalk, and waited for the light.  There was man, unshaven, holding a random piece of cardboard, also standing there.  He offers, in a thick Slavic accent to help me cross the street.  This is probably the one thing I always want help with.  I hate crossing the street.  Even as my mobility improves, I get anxious, and worry that the light will change as I'm in the middle of the street.  I can't remember that having happened, but still not my cup of tea.  Anyways, I took his arm and we crossed.  Mid-stride, he says, "What is your injury?"  Does no try to beat around the bush, or apoligize for asking.  Thankfully.  It's not a hard question.  But, for some reason we've made it one.  I said, 'I have a brain injury.'  He tells me he knows of this, amd talks about an Italian relative in a car accident.  I tell him mine is from lack of Oxgen because my heart stopped.  And that my heart stopped because of a drug a doctor had given me.  Which drug?  Yaz.  He, like more people these days, hadn't heard of it, so I dropped it.  There was no deed to talk about the birth control, that almost took my life, with random hitchhiker.  As soon as he crossed the street, he held up the other side of the cardboard, he held, and it read, 'Going To' and the rest of it was too small to read from a distance.  My first thought was, 'what a weird place to hitch hike.'no where near a highway ramp, and right in town.  Eventually he gave up, and crossed the street to come to bus stop.  Which was going back to town, not away, as he'd been trying to do.  I asked where he was going, but he never said.  Very nice man, just had an unsettling character about him.  I got off the bus at the hospital, to transfer buses, and was drawn in by a sign reading, farmers market.  I bought a cookie, carrots, and a cucumber. And a coffee on the way out.  Then, caught my bus down  to the lake.  I volunteer in this area about 200 yards from the lake, at a place called the Peace and justice Center.  It's a great community, and I enjoy the people.  Although, I'm not contributing much right now.  I feel a bit useless, which is a sadly common theme, these days.  I returned to my apartment with my roommate, and set to making food.  After I'd gotten dinner, I set to making these awesome bana based cookies.  They are wicked tasty.  The batch didn't make as many as usual though.  Oh well, it will be an excercise of Will power not to demolish them, before  my high school friends come to visit...

Day of rest?

My day began today with one of my classic faux-pas'.  I dragged my slovenly self out of bed, at 9, and made coffee, and toast.  Slowly, I assessed the filth of my living space, and gathered dirty dishes.  Also rembered to water my plants.  That doesn't happen often enough.  I sat down with my toast, to hear a knock at my door. I felt all of the Color drain from my face, as I realized it was Sunday morning, and I had 10 o'clock breakfast plans.  I got up to answer the door, ahem, wearing pink, snowflake panama pants.  This okay if your guest is in your age group.  However, it's extremely embarrassing, should your guest be your old academic advisor, from college.  I look forward to catching up with this husband wife team, whenever we can find time.  It had been almost 2 years this time, and I had already dropped the ball, by neglecting to return an email.  To add fuel to my shame, I'd then had a lapse in memory.   Thankfully, they were extremely gracious about my difficulties.

They waited for me to put on more appropriate clothing, although told me I didn't have to.  However, you could not  pay me to leave the house in pajama pants, especially pink ones.  I hurried out to the car, a few moments later, quite ashamed.  Though they wouldn't hear it, so the conversation turned to Jay's retirement.  Sometimes college seems like a different lifetime, and I suppose, in some ways it was.  Though, as we discussed the Belize study abroad program they'd created, and my classmates, my mind slips back to the joy, and freedom of those days.  I know how far I've fallen from then, and slowly scrambled to put myself back together.  I accepted a long time ago, that I'd never be who was before this happened to me.  It was not easy, however, it was necessary.

I always enjoy hearing about their upcoming winter plans.  Since the Belize program was not able to continue, after 3 years,  they've concocted clever travel plans, sight seeing  Central America, integrating into local cultures, whenever possible. The meal quickly passed, and before I knew it, I was back, and immediately was motivated to redeem myself, and repot a couple of plants I've needed to, for over a month.  Who expects a sunny day, in the 50's, in November?  I then vacuumed, as I had dropped a bunch of dirt on the carpet.  Off white wall to wall carpeting is so convenient...  Oh well, what's another dirt stain?  It's more like a blotchy brown rug, these days.

After cleaning, I took the jogger out for a 3hr jog/run.  Burlington was exceptionally weird today.  I got hissed a by a guy walking by.  I already detest the fact that walkers pass me, but really, is it necessary to hiss?  No, I don't think so.  If you're 12, that's cool, but otherwise it's rude. I also saw a homeless tent community in the woods, which instantly explained all the weird noises I heard there as I ran by, this summer.  Also passed a strangely large group of Hispanic men.  They were all huddled together, in a circle. Either yelling or chanting things in a  language I didn't recognize.  About a mile from my place, was when it began to rain, which I'd hoped to avoid.  When I first got the yellow sign stating 'runner with asisstive. Device' I worried it might make more of a target,for the strangers I encounter, although, it's been just the opposite.  More people smile and say hi, than ever before.  With exception of the hisser, I saw today.

I returned, and occupied the kitchen for 3 hours,  I only made chicken, and green bean casserole, but I cleaned out my fridge, located missing dishes, and took out the recycling.  I can't remember the last time I accompshed everything I needed to get done, around the apartment,  in a day.  Maybe I should find a way to shame myself, each day, because apparently, that's what it takes.

How Bizzare

In high school, that was the name of a song, I liked, by a band called OMC.  No idea if they're still around, but the title seemed appropriate for my day.  I've recently been fielding queries, as to my lack of writing.  It's been a good fall season, lots of memories, I've begun to record, and then gotten distracted, and done other things.

Today, I thought ahead to make,and pack my lunch.  Convienienly, this idea only seems to occur to me when I haven't recently bought lunch meat.  I had an avocado hummus, lettuce, cucumber, and smoked bacon sandwich.  It wasn't bad, though, it was a bit odd.  I love cucumber with smoked salmon, and bacon with turkey, but I must've lost my mind while buying groceries this week.  Whatever, it was a different sandwich.  I caught up on some emails, and headed out for PT, angry at myself for not having written down, the fact that I needed to get my own ride, or leave enough time to take the bus.  It takes me 2 hrs to walk or run, 45  minutes, to catch, and transfer  buses, if I'm lucky, and 15 min, to ride in a car.  With 15 min to spare, I called a cab, once I'd located my phone.  The app. find my iPhone, saves me everytime.  The most ridiculous place I've found the phone?  My refrigerator. The  worst place I've left my phone, and thought I'd never see it again? A bench, in a municipal building.  As soon as the app displays a map, and address, or makes your phone beep. I wish I wasn't this forgetful, but I'm so thankful, that I'm not the only one, and someone has created an app for sieve brains like me.

I made it to PT, and was sent off to do what I can, independently.  Like the weight machines.  The therapist I work with, Ray, is pretty clever with developing new ways to test my balance, and coordination. Both of which, are challenged, for me..  It's like reliving my childhood, where my friends and enemies mocked my lack of coordination, and speed, by referring to me as sloth.  Unfortunaly, a nickname that is one of the 7 mortal sins, sticks around.  As a kid I was very ashamed of the nickname, but as I grew, I learned to appreciate its comedy.  Fluid coordination is not, nor ever was, a skill I  possess.  I have to step onto excercise blocks, forwards, and sideways, and then step on specific targets, like colored dots, ropes, and mats.  I have a really hard time getting my feet to hit those specific  targets. Sometimes I fall every time I walk through, sometimes, I only fall once, like today.  And very rarely, I don't fall at all.  Imagine that.

After PT, I located my bus pass, in a lost and found, at UVM.  Apparently, I'd left it, last week, while at the Telluride film festival.  Somehow, I got the free bus up to campus, walked across campus, got my card, walked back, caught the same bus downtown, and went to my volunteer role, at the peace and justice Center.  Although, I didn't actually get much done, because one of the interns announced there was a school shooting, or hostage situation,  in the square mile sized town, I live in.  There was a gun, whostage situation, at the same school, last spring.  Why this idea of guns at school, is such a fad, I don't know.  Columbine happened when I was in high school, and I feel like there have been shootings, every year since, all over the country.  Why anyone would purposely target the most defenceless, of our population is beyond me.  There weren't any news reports earlier, but, I heard about it again, on VPR, with vague details.  It sounds like school mayy have  already been out for the day, but, even so, guns and kids are not a combination you ever hope to hear about.  Especially, not twice in the   same year, at the same high school.  What a terrifying day for the families in Winnooski.

How to say goodbye?

Today was an average day, in my present life.  Honestly, I feel lost, and without a direction.  Last time I felt this way, I pulled up everything, and left.  It was the middle of my fall semester junior year.  My head wasn't in the game, so, I found something, I knew I loved, and left.  I went to UVM, because I had a dream of becoming an equine veterinarian.  By my junior year, my grades were not phenomenal, in the Math, and science department.  My appretation of supporting myself, and doing every activity I found remotely interesting, left me little time to study, practice, or really become excellent, at one thing.  I couldn't see that, then, and while I don't regret my life choices, I wish I had a clearer vision for what I hoped to do with a degree, in communications.  I studied biology, to get into vet school, and later switched to communications, as it came more naturally to me.  I.e, I didn't want to senselessly pound my head into a physics, or calculus text, I could wrap my head around.  I just forced myself to keep trying, because I wanted to he's. Wounded, or sick horses.  Finally, I reached a place where I realized I needed a change, and time, to decide if this was the right path.  So, I found a job, doing farm labor, exercising, and grooming horses for a British Olympic hopeful equestrian.  Those days were simpler, they hired me. Asked on the experience I told them I had.  3 weeks later, I found myself on a massive horse farm, riding 5 horses a day, observing lessons, cleaning up more horse poop, than I care to think about.  We worked from 7 am until 7pm, most days, but everyday passed entirely too quickly, whether it had been fun, or not so.  I changed a lot, in that year, as it was first time supporting myself, taking responsibility, for my choices about school, and the money I'd wasted, that fall semester.  Eventually, I had to return, and face my world.  That meant deciding how to finish school.  I ended up switching majors to communications.  I did quite well with it, provided I was interested in the course.  I worked the hardest at the subjects that interested me the most, and the others, I pulled through, begrudgingly.

I'm now realizing, I still live like that.  I focus on what I like, and try to begrudgingly get through the other stuff.  I spent the last 6 years arguing with doctors, therapists, amd case managers, to get what I thought was best, or what I needed.  Sometimes, I learned that I didn't know as much as I would've liked, and other times I learned that I needed to create ways to get around problems.

There was one person, that remained a constant, in my life of unknown people, and outcomes.  In 2008, I met a woman, Kim Patton, who was going to be the occupational therapist, I worked with, from then on.  However, she was field based.  In the early days she helped me secure community based volunteer positions, and was committed to ensuring that I stayed active in the community.  Naturally, my personality clashed with hers, on a regular basis.  She was an incredible mom figure, and if you know me, gracefully accepting assistance, is not something I excel at.  The majority of our working relationship, she'd toss out ideas, and I'd immediately disregard them, or just blindly shoot them down.  Looking back, she worked tremendously hard, to ensure her clients received the best care.

Last year, it became evident she was battling, a particularly harsh medical condition.  We suspected it was likely cancer, but it was like the dead horse in the room, I wasn't about to openly inquire, if she wasn't interested in sharing these details.  She was always so,open, with regards to her family life, and she was still working, so, I didn't put much thought into it.  She transitioned off my case pretty informally, last summer.  I can't even recpllect our last visit.

Today, I met up with a friend/ previous aide from the early days.  She called while I was out running, to push our meetup, a bit later.  I contined on, came back, changed, ate, and she arrived looking pretty upset.  When she asked me to sit, I felt my chest seize in fear.  I had no idea what news she had, but I knew it wasn't good.  She told me that she'd just heard from Kim's husband, and that she'd passed away, the day before.  I felt engulfed by a wave of sorrow, and regret.  I certainly wouldn't be where I am today, without her pushing me, and leading me towards a path of acceptance of my new path.  For that I will always be thankful.  Looking back, I wish I'd shown her more gratitude, when I had the opportunity.

She lived, a driven, caring, and compassionate life, my heart breaks for her family, but I'll remain forever grateful for the progress she helped me reallize.  May you rest in peace, Kim.

... (spooky-scary)

A great friend of mine got married Sunday.  Weddings are an annual, or biannual event, at this age.  I met Colleen in high school.  She was a tomboy at heart, and enjoyed running around in the Maine woods, despite being raised to be a lady.

I have always had this fleeting memory making a pact, or promising I wouldn't think of getting married, until ic was 30.  Funny thing was, I couldn't remember which one of my girlfriends I'd sworn. That pact with.  5 years ago, when I had someone to love, and the subject occasionally surfaced, my deeper subconscious paid me rare visits, but, I recall thinking, 'I didn't want yo get married until my 30's, and yet, I have no idea why.  If I've found love now, I want to hold on to it!'  Funny, how that didn't work out...

When Collen got married this past weekend, I saw her write something about having made a pact at 15. Not to marry until she was 30, and all of those memories, as well as many past struggles and tormenting emotions, surged in.  I realized I've never dealt with my emotions, since this happened to me.  I saw a therapist I didn't trust, on an emotional level, for almost 4 years, ack!  I never learned. To deal with my emotions properly, as a kid either.   I held everything in, until one, tiny thing, pushed me past my tipping point.  Sunday, I learned that I still do that.  I never actually dealt with my feelings, when Sean moved.  Instead, I threw myself back into school, and a class I didn't understand.  I was so far out of my league, at that point, I got lost in my phobias and misunderstanding of that class.  I remember that fall, because I dropped 10 pounds, that I did not  have to loose, and felt nauseous at every meal I ate, in my then living situation.  

When I moved, at the end of the year, it was the fresh start I needed, to get away from everything I associated with Sean.  That progression allowed me to cover up those feelings, without actually dealing with, or confronting them.  All of sudden I felt as if I'd been flattened by a Mac truck, of emotions, and feelings, I haven't dared , or even had the capacity, to approach, since the onset of my injury.  I went to meditation class that evening, to attempt to deal with myself.  I've been having difficulty adjusting to the visiting leader.  I loose focus constantly, and failed to consider that fact when I went.  Trust me, 90 minutes of guided meditation, often flies by, but I couldn't find home base, that night.  It was more like 90 minutes of my inner psyche, attacking itself.  Everything from interactions I could recall with Sean, to why I'm so unhappy with myself for not being gainfully employed, at this present moment.  It's rather unsettling to have your past, and present, attack at the same time.

I went to the track Monday afternoon, and pushed myself to faster, than I think I can.  For the very first time, since I started doing my escapes at the track, I got winded.  I've never, independently reached that point of physical stress, since incurring this injury.  So, that felt awesome.  While, I did, what I refer to as my run on the track, a frisbee team, came out, to use the field.  I must've listened to them chant something that sounded like, "ti-go-wanna-comfa-UVM" 10 times before I heard, "Here we go, UVM!"  So bizarre, how phonetics work...  It was a great distraction, though.  When I hit 3 miles, I stopped to stretch.  I'm touching my toes, when I hear, C-Blaaaaize!"  That was a nickname, I got in college, generally from my outing club friends. I knew who it was immediately, which I can rarely, to never, say when I'm out, and about.  My mindset falls back into college mode, relatively easily.  I think because, I really understood it, and where my life was headed.  When I acquired this injury, I lost everything that made me who I was, including my mind.  Stringing it all back together, hasn't been easy, or glamorous,but, in the end, you need all of those things, to know who you are- passions, furies, intolerances, glories, and so on...

I completely changed gears, from jogging at the track, to head over, and take part in a group called, Monday Night Kirtan.  It's basically a group of people coming together, to make music, and sing in chants.  All of the people are extraordinarily positive.  When I began going, I immediately appreciated the mindset of many of the folks I met, which enabled me to make more connections within the group, and continue or take part.

The progression of my recovery isn't normally, a vision, I can readily access.  However, when I realize. I have the opportunity to process the progression I've made, I feel I need to use that clarity, to help put things back together for myself.

All that said, congratulations to Colleen, and Adam, on your wedding!

Maine Marathon

The slogan this year was, "The way a marathon should be".  That's a clever play on, 'Maine, the way life should be".  Which is is the state slogan.  My favorite t-shirt, from years ago, said that.

My dad came up to Vermont, Friday  night.  We made some dinner, and planned out the weekend.  He ran some errands, while I continued gathering everything, I might possibly need.   Oddly, I forgot one crucial thing.  My toothbrush.  Yuck.  I did get one there, but I was so bummed when I couldn't find it.

We enjoyed an amazing meal with my friends Val, and Abe.  Fresh veggies, sweet potato hash, and pasta with pesto.  There was a lot of antagonizing going on, while dinner was cooking.  Another friend, Hazel showed up, and we all ate this wonderful meal, and caught up.  We talked about a wedding, of a close friend of ours from high school.  I'd suddenly become, the only one, not attending.  Due to error, in not booking my tickets.  They decided to bring me in spirit, and in photographs,  it was one of those ideas that sounds great in the moment, but that you doubt will ever really occur.  Although, I was pretty sure, it would happen.  These ladies, are doers.  I wish I spent more time around them, for that reason.  I've spent 6 years living life where people talk about stuff they never actually get around to doing.  These gals are my best friends, and I know they do what they say, no matter how ridiculous.  And, I love them for it.

It was an early to bed, early to rise type of night.  We got up at 4:30 to start at 6:30.  It's a truly beautiful course, especially, at day break.  The first 2 miles are along a cove, and open water.  It's my favorite part, as it's just getting light, and you catch the first glimpse of the sun rising, over the water.  Everything is peaceful, and quiet, at that hour.  We continued on,and ran into a cyclist volunteering for the race, Roy.  He was the same man, who'd accompanied us last year too.  It was great to see a familiar face, on course.  We all continued on, me pushing the jogger, my dad running backwards, and Roy, going back, and forth, until we got into the pack, that is.  Around halfway, we started seeing a lot more runners, and had people consistently passing by, the rest of the way.    After I turned around, I heard  my name, and knew it must be someone I'd recognize.  I got mauled in a hit and run bear hug, by my childhood eye doctor.  I'd seen her at the gym in June, and we'd talked about this race, but I'd forgotten until that moment.  That was pretty unbelievable!  The top marathoners zoomed by, as we knew the end was fairly close.  The day before, the race director had mentioned the name of the guy projected to win, Robert Gomez.  I stood there thinking, I know that name, weird.  Eventually, I realized, it was because we were on the same cross country team, in high school.  So weird.  I never actuallysaw him, except as a blur passing by, but he did win the race.  Another member of the XC team from high school, was there too.  Medomak Valley represent.  I saw Darren passing too, but didn't really get to day hi.  This is a huge event, I never expect to see people I know.  I had my own surprise, of awesome friends waiting at the finish.  In the last mile, or two, my childhood best friend, Amy, and her boyfriend Jason, were walking out, and they brought us in.  I was so relieved to finish, as I was starving, and just wanted some pizza.  For whatever reason, pizza is the post race food, I've come to crave.  Crazy.  It's one of the few times I even eat pizza.  It normally doesn't call to me.  Hazel also came down to join us, and  had just found out she passed her nursing boards, that morning, so there was celebration all around.  

We hung around briefly, talking to local press,and food vendors,and made a plan to meet up in a couple hours for lunch, at a Portlannd hotspot, Gritty Mcduffs.  It's basically a pub that serves local Maine brews, and great fesh, grill style food.  Yum, after a great race, and visiting with great friends, we headed  back to Vermont, though not before stopping at a local donut shop, 'The Holey Donut'.  It came highly recommended by Val, and Abe.  When I heard about the chocolate, sea salt flavor,  I knew I had to stop.  Thankfully my dad was in a similar mindset.  He also got a gift certificate for Val and Abe, as they'd spoken so highly of it.  I knew that would be a fun thank you note to receive!  Yum, I could go for a donut right about now.

Looking back, the race went pretty smoothly.  Obviously, the only thing I'm actually racing are my uncoordinated limbs.  It's like a neverending  contest for my feet to get safely back on the ground.  The joy, and anticipation I have for this event, is boundless.  Though, of course I look forward to the day I can do the full marathon, sans jogger, though for now, accomplishing 13.1 still feels like a major feat.  I'm so thankful to everyone who helped make this happen for me!

 

All in a 'fall'day

Today began in normal fashion.  I got up, a bit after 7,  got my running gear on, and foraged in the kitchen.  I was excited to find a remaining chocolate croissant, in the fridge.in my mind, any day that begins with chocolate, is a good day.  Little did I know, that theory would be tested.  I got my things together, and Marc, my roommate/ live in aide appeared to a announce he was getting the car.  I was hastily throwing turkey on some bread, for my lunch.  To be thorough, it was an avocado hummus, turkey, lettuce, and smoked bacon sandwich.  Yum! It's such a lifesaver, to live with someone as helpful, as Marc.  I can take the bus, however, it takes 3x as long, to get to a destination 4 mile away.  When I first suffered this injury, I couldn't bear to entertain the idea that the next however many years of my life, I'd be faced with depending on others for everything.  Oddly, the more independence I regain, the more frustrated, and sometimes angry, I become when kindly, but unknowing souls, offer me help.

This morning, I enjoyed a more coordinated than usual session in PT.  my muscles complained a bit more than usual though, as I was just coming back, after 2 weeks, away.  Ray, the therapist, I work with, has developed a unique routine for me, that majorly focuses on strengthening muscles I need to maintain my balance.  I get to haul a sandbag around, twist every way possible, while bearing weight in my arms, do sit-ups, push-ups,among other exercises.  I'm slow, and my movements aren't coordinated, but, I always feel as if my physical abilities, are improving.  It's not something I really notice day to day, but usually, after PT, I head for a run on the bike path, as they're located on the path.

Moving along, I was appreciating the sunshine, and trying to remember to be thankful for the opportunities I do have in my life right now.  I planned to run 7 today, so, I hit the path, ran to what I thought was the end, though, today, I learned it is not, it actually turns left, and away from the lake.  Anyways, I ran to my goal point, and turned around for the jog back. In the last mile I put my foot in a divot, my brain wasn't prepared to handle, and I won't down, on my face.  It was so fast, I couldn't save my face, I quickly sat up, huddled in a ball, against the fence.  I knew I had to get it together, to get back, but I could feel that I'd chipped my teeth, and I don't deal with the cosmetic injuries well.  Generally because, I know it looks terrible, and I'll be forced to explain my face, everywhere I go.  I sat in my sobbing ball of self pity for a few minutes, until, I heard a cyclist stop to inquire if I was okay.  By then, I was horrendously embarrassed, and still mad at myself, for tripping.

I raised my bloody, tender face, and said that I was, but I was also quite angry.  The man, said that was understandable, but he needed to ask me some questions.  I didn't want to talk, as my lips were tender, and bloody, but I answered the 5 typical concussion questions: name, age, birthday, current location, where I'm from.  There was no one to confirm my answers, but I had no trouble, although, I had to explain that I have aphasia, and how I speak, IS my normal voice, he handed me a towel, to clean my face, and advised I stand, to reduce swelling.  I wasn't ready too, so I asked him questions, and I learned about what he does, graveyard caretaker, which I found surprising, as I'd assumed he was in the medical field.  He'd been a personal care taker, until his parents took ill, and I felt very grateful he was such a talker.  He wanted to walk me back to safety, so, we walked back to On Track, where I'd started.  I thanked him for his help, and concern, and prepared myself to show my face among people I did know.  I went to the locker room, and inspected my mouth.  I have fun  abrasion above my mouth, swollen lips, and dented teeth.  I immediately grabbed my phone, to call the dentist.  Last time I damaged teeth, I went through, a terrible process of finding a dentist, and paying for 'cosmetic work' as the state doesn't cover that type of stuff.  Little did I know, I had dental insurance.  Needless to say, it was a learning process.  Today, I called the dentist I see here, and they got me in for 9am tomorrow. Easy.  Guess I have learned something's along the way.

I've beed doing a lot of reflecting recently, on how much improvements, my brain, and body have made thought this process.  I am so rarely able to look at the big picture, and today, I could, even though, I massacred my face.  So, in that sense there's always something good to come out of any mistake.  Usually, it's an opportunity to learn something, so, at least there's that...

No Barriers- what's within you, is stronger than what's in your way!

So, how's life after rehab. you may ask.  To be blunt, everything feels the same.  There should be a more definitive transition program.  I Say no to a lot of things.  It's like  an instinctual program for my mind, and I wish there was social rehabilitation.  Meeting new people, or seeing acquaintances can feel pretty awkward, especially because I forget that it's harder for me to speak clearly now, and when there is so much to take in, I forget to watch listeners faces, to discern if they're having trouble understanding me.  I always question my undeniable enthusiasm for new people, and new situations, the second I arrive.  Though, I'm always immediately reminded how generous, and thoughtful people can be.  I got on the bus, ate whatever I could find in my day pack for an on-the-go breakfast, and took in the splendour of the scenery going by.  I talked to the young couple behind me, mostly about where each of us was from.

After 45 minutes or so, we pulled into a rec. area, at what appeared to be a very small glacial 'lake'.  In Maine, we say pond, if you can see each edge of he body of water.  I was not about to go there though, as I didn't want to seem ungrateful, and so on, but initially, I was a bit disturbed by the lack of space, our group of 20-30 had on the water,  as a lot of it was clearly divided off for a dam.  Dam it!

I was pretty excited when I realized paddleboarding was a option.  It's really big in Burlington, and I've  never gotten around to checking it out.  Mostly because I know I could never paddle, while standing on a board on the open water.  My balance wasn't that good, before I had my injury. I tried surfing, fell off the board, got my feet, when the wave literally put the board in my mouth.  Funny, I never tried again.  I also had a I wind-surfing board, I liked to try to stand on, on the lake, I fell off that more often than I stood on it.  I will never know why people thought I was a cool college kid, I fell, and bruised myself so often, it's not so dis-similar from life now.  Guess I can't hide fom it, I'm a walking klutz, born, and bred.  

Needless to say, when I jumped at the chance to try paddleboarding.  These people who work in the adaptive field, realize how important it is to start off small, and work your way up.  My personality, is go big, or go home, in terms of outdoor activity.  It's not terribly unreasonable, but when, it just doesn't occur to me to work my way into things.  Which, I should realize, however, rarely do.  It was a genuine revelatation, when the guide suggested I try kneeling kneeling on the board.  Knew it may be able to Mage st anding for maybe 10 seconds, but if I tried to paddle, I'd  be in the drink.  When my balance is compromised, my body freezes, which actually causes me to fall, rather than not.  Therefore, I was all about kneeling on the board.  I loved every minute paddling around on hat pond-err, lake.  Although my Kees began to complain, and I needed to check out the kayaks.  We came in, and I immediately got into a kayak.  It was slightly frustrating that I had verbally state my prior paddling experience, mostly as it was windy, and I could tell they weren't hearing me.  I started to loose myself to my emotions, until, I just went and t in the boat, and paddled away from other people.  I went out to he do not cross line, paddled back a bit,took in the scenery, and began to reintegrate with the group.  I was so thankful for the space, as I'd really needed it.  Once I rejoined the group of paddlers, I was myself again, and met a few people, until we were all called in or lunch.  It was also pretty apparent a storm was rolling in.  It looked far off, but I was disappointed when it was decided we should call it a day.  We scarfed down brown bag lunces, and waited or the bus to return.  Eventually, we all ended up finding seats, in program vehicles.

That day, I'd dropped my phone in Kristen's car, and not realized.  I was upset, as I didn't know how to reach reach nyone I was staying with.  I tried to remind myself not to get upset, or panic, and amazingly enough, I didn't.  One of the staff at Telluride adaptive, kindly brought me to their office, and called the on site No Barriers 'office'.  We had to be creative in dealing with security measures in places.  I don't know what it is about smarty pants, on the other side of tht phone, but dealing ith her sent me right back into my angry place, and I shut down.  Somehow, contact was made, and I was able to meet up with Kristen and George, at the resort Starbucks. So grateful!

I went for decaf, as angry, nd hopped up on caffeine do not mix.  Met a few new people there, but I felt so relieved when Kristen, and George appeared.    I did find my phone, under the seat, later on.  Not my day, although dinner was fun, as I ran into so many people I'd met with different adaptive groups.  It took an hour to stand in line, and get food, but you hardly realized any time went by, as there was so much going on all around.  I was so excited to see Amy Purdy, as I'd met her, at my first trip to No Barriers, at Winter Park, 2 years before.  No Barriers is such a unique community, as once you start coming to these summits, the idea of not attending he next one, is not an option.  It was so incredible to see familiar faces everywhere.  That brightened up my evening.

As soon as we returned to the condo, I collapsed  onto my bed, and didn't rise again, until 6:30.  Before my alarm, it never happens.  I hit the shower,and was somehow ready to leave, an hour later.  We headed for the favoured breakfast spot, Maggies.  Amazing morning sunlight, delicious pastries, and great selection of fruit.  Yum!

That was Saturday, we headed to our meeting spots, although, I'd misplaced my schedule.  I felt like I'd lost my mind, on this trip.  For 6 years, I've learned to depend on others, to help me keep it together.  I felt as I'd been smacked in the face, and sent back to start.  Loosing my schedule meant that I confused when/where I was supposed to be.  I did rock climbing that morning.  When I'd signed up for ambulatory rock climbing, I missed just how ambulatory you needed to be.  I found myself looking up at a narrow switch back path, of what I'd describe as a mini rockslide.  It wasn't very far, but knew it'd be troublesome to walk up with help.   It ended up that 3 of us walked sideways up this path.  We all made it, by taking our time, and strategizing our complicated moves.  I was so thankful to them, for their assistance.

As I caught my breath from, the mini hike, I got my harness, and helmet on.  That was a slight production, because everyone wants to help.  I eventually, had my turn, on the wall, but as soon as I got on the wall, I snapped, and started refusing assistance.  It was really hard to get my giant sneakers on tiny holds, and look for new holds to move to, while climbing.  I felt as if I was taking hours to inch my way up the wall.  I loved climbing, before my injury, but the passion wasn't there for me that day.  It was my first time on actual rock, since college, and it felt great, but, I hadn't expected to have such a hard time strategizing my moves.  Then again, I forget, I have this injury, that makes everything physical, far more challenging than I think.  Especially now, that I've progressed in so many other areas.  

After the climbing expedition,  I remembered I'd signed up to go horseback riding, so I got on that bus. I was very excited to go for a ride.  By the time, I got on the horse, I ready to gallop off, over the hills.  Instead, I walked the horse in large rectangle, in a field, with the other riders. On every turn, someone made a comment, about how I must be a rider.  I was really surprised.  I am a rider, and I know what I'm doing, but I didn't expect my brain to be able to tell my muscles what to do, as it had been a year.

Riding is my biggest passion, I love horses.  Unfortunately, they're extremely expensive, and require many things I lost, such as transportation, and income, to keep around.  I wasn't able to get it together to ride in CB again, so I was happy to be on a horse at all.  I don't see them, in my day to day life now, so, I don't always think about what I miss about them.  I spent the first 17 years of my life, with them, and never reallize the hole they've left in my heart, until I'm around them again.

We plodded in a single file line, down the trail, and could hear thunder in the distance.  In that moment, I recollected my schedule.  I'd wanted to ride in the morning, because I learned last year that storms roll in, in the afternoon.  But, in that moment I was happy, it'd worked out that way, because Kristen wanted to skip Sundays activity, and I'd been signed up to ride Sunday morning.  We all began to turn around, to make way for the barn.  The forests were gorgeous, elegant, old trees, a winding path, crossing a stream, I wanted to last forever.  But alas, it ended, around the next turn, and we could see the barn.

When we returned to the ski resort, I got a message, I should take the gondola, down to town.  I had to ask several people to find it.  The view was amazing, but I felt weird, getting on alone, with 3 couple in the gondola.  They were tourists from all over, enjoying the scenery  Colorado has to offer.  It was a quick ride, they were all very nice.  But, now I had to find my way around a new town.  I'm not used to being alone, in new places anymore.  I kept asking people, as I walked.  It didn't take long to find people who knew where 'Old Gold', a bar, and expensive restaurant, was.  I eventually found them drinking, a tacky, red drink in martini glasses.  They insisted I try one, and in first said no, as I wanted to eat, before I drank.  They had appetizers, so I picked at then, while anxiously awaiting the food trucks, I had tickets for.  An hour passed, and I tried the devis kiss, drink.  It reminded me of sugar, and menthol.  Lovely, but, it filled my stomach, for a brief moment.  We made our way down the street, to the bar I'd originally gone to, to find them.  They have the same name.  Still, no food trucks.  I had some water to start, and soon moved on to another drink, as the intense hunger returned.  Why I never left, to go get food at a restaurant, I don't know.  I know that alcohol, and brain injuries don't mix.  That's why I don't exceed 1-2 drinks, and make sure I eat, and drink a lot of water.  It's not something I miss, so I don't usually fall off the wagon.  But, when that's all there is to fill my hungry stomach, that's how I filled my stomach.  I'm not ptoud of my choice, but it did help with gnawing hunger..

It, however, didn't help me be more sociable.  I just sat in the booth, and tried to respond, when spoken to.  I remember seeing this guy, I've had a riciculous crush on, since the mont I saw him, last year.  I didn't get up, and barely responded to his comments.  Not my finest moment.  When we finally headed back to the condo, I ate everything I could find, which wasn't much.  It was strange for me, I used to love to go out, meet people, party, and now I try to even like it, but, it's really scary to let go of mind, now, because I lost it, for so long.  I was so relieved, as I got to sleep, that night.

The next morning was Sunday, our last day.  We had closing ceremonies to attend, and a final activity to take part in.  However, it had been agreed, the final activity should be skipped, to allow us a more reasonable return time.  We enjoyed breakfast a bit too long, and then were in a mad tear to make closing ceremonies.  I got let out at the building, as I take more time to walk.  I found an open door, and fortunately walked tight into the full auditorium.  It took me a moment, but, I felt so relieved to see. A few open seats together.  As I turned in that direction, I saw Amy Purdy, a double amputee, from surviving Meningitis.  We met at the last summit, in 2011, and I'd really wanted an opportunity to catholic up, and hear more about her experiences.  She joined the US Paralympic snowboarding team, and is training for Socci next year.  She has come so far, and has this spectacular perspective, it felt likesuch an honor to get that time with her.

The speakers  were all enigmatic, and told inspiring tales, of courage, drive, and, of course enthusiasm.

Many people were recognized for their work within the organization, and others for truly impressive feats, of courage, and physical stamina.  For me the speaker I recall, most of the story about. ,and had  already been looking forward to seeing, was Kyle Maynard.  My aunt and I had met him, while grocery shopping, at the summit, in 2011.  He, and a friend, Billy, had a similar idea, and the conversation began.  I remember how impressed I was, that they'd approached us, as Kyle seemed to know everyone at the summit, that year.

Acquiring this disability, has really changed how I see myself, and the rest of the world.  From when I   realizedwhat I was facing, back in 2007, I knew it was now a solid, steady goal, to reform the connections I'd lost.  It has literally taken until now, to realize I will never be who I was, before this injury.  Though, I've learned, that this is who I am now, and there's nothing wrong with that.  Were all different' and unique, in our own ways.  Having the opportunity to participate in events like this, has shown me that the keys to happiness are in pursuing your passions, and maintaining a close group of family, and friend. it's such a beautiful perspective, one that I hope follows me thought life! 

No Barriers- what's within you, is stronger than what's in your way! (Getting there)

Where do I even begin?- The travel process

Flying out to Colorado has become a biannual event for me, in the past 2years anyways.  I love flying there as I pick up an extra  couple of hours.  It was a wicked early Wednesday morning flight to Chicago.  Actually the flight was at 740, but I woke up at 4, thinking I was beyond late, as my alarm hadn't gone off.  My roommate/ live in aide heard me crashing about, and just as I realized I was an hour ahead of schedule, Marc appears, keys in hand, and announces he's getting tithe car, and walks out the door.  I'm in the car before it occurs to me, I'll be sitting the tiny Burlington airport for 2.5 hrs, as I've been throgh it enough now, it takes less than an hour to go through security, and find the gate.  So, I sat in the terminal and watched the sunrise, and eagerly awaited the time the coffee cart opened.  An hour quickly passed on Facebook, and people watching, mostly Canadians, and trying to decipher their conversations from each rare word I could translate.

One of the 'perks' of a disability, is getting to board first, and not having to feel personally responsible for holding up other frustrated, intolerant passengers, and also the kind, forgiving ones too.  This trip I chose to travel with my hiking pack, from a different lifetime.  I can walk with it, although I can't recommend carrying a pack, and a cane.  People like airport personnel freaked out a bit.  I prefer to save a buck wherever I can, and really have little shame about what people will think, so, off I went, trekking about the airports.  My loss of peripheral vision is a real asset here, as I don't usually notice gawkers.  I have to say my mental vision of using my pack was stellar.  Though, I didn't account for the genuine concern, I'd bring upon myself.  I chose to use my pack for its vertsatility, comfort, and ease.  However, I did not consider that wearing my pack, and walking how I walk might set people off.  I didn't consider how offended people can become, when I decline their well intended, and generous offer for assistance.  I feel as if I'm rude for wanting to carry my own weight, and for wanting to challenge myself.  I checked my bag at the gate, and got it back, when we landed in Chicago.  My layover was extremely short, but they brought to a bus which dropped me off at my terminal.  This was a very strange experience, as being out of doors, and on he Tarmac just seemed unusual, though, it was very easy.  I must say, I was disappointed to have missed the opportunity for lunch.  We actually landed early, in Denver, however, only by minutes.  I had to set about finding assistance to get to the correct exit, to meet my friend, Kristen.  Someone from United, was kind enough escort me, and my pack over to baggage claim.  2 subway rides, and some trekking later, I finally met up with Kristen, a friend I'd made last year, doing an adaptive paddling trip.  Kristen was born with a condition called cerebral palsy, which I didn't know anything about.  I'd heard unimpressive stories about severe cases, but I lacked a general knowledge regarding cause and effect.  I learned that we are both survivors of oxygen deprivation.  The difference is how and when.  I learned that CP is created when the fetus loses Oxygen for a prolonged amount of time, during delivery.  Therefore causing brain injury.  Every case, as well as each injury, is different.  Kristen is an inspiration for me, in terms of having forged a path through the professional, and academic world.  I'm desperate to go back to school, but seem to lack the tenacity, and ability to formulate a roadmap for myself to do so, although, good new I just received medical documentation that I'm of sound mind, for academic purposes.  Next, is the GREs!  

Getting back on track, we grabbed a quick lunch at Arby's, a place I only know for its curly  fries, from the age of 7, or so.  Kristen dropped me off at her house, and returned to work for the afternoon.  I puttered around, ate my curly fries, and roast beast.  I quickly grew bored, sitting around, so I walked all around the neighbourhood.  Not much going on.  I knew I needed to be very careful, and vigilant of my surroundings, as there were no defining markers to be found.  I made 2 loops within the general complex, and decided not to push my luck.  I sat on the outside patio, stretching my travel weary muscles, until I heard the garage door open.  Kristen had returned, and we created a plan for the evening.  I was on kitchen duty, preparing road snacks, and baking treats.  After prep. For the trip, the plan was to catch 'Were the Millers' at a local cinema.  I haven't laughed so hard in the movies,, since 'the hangover'.  So funny!

The next morning we set off for the drive to Telluride. Picking up, another friend Kristen's, nearby.  George is a connection of Kristen's, through the paraolympic training facility, for cyclists.  He's blind, which meant I had to be extra contientous in my speaking abilities.  It's hard enough for sighted people who try to read my lips, to better understand my speech patterns.

It was a 6-8 hour drive to Telluride, where the summit was.  I was quite travel weary, when we arrived, around 5.  By the time we got there, I'd realized the quad cane I carry everywhere was missing.  Big oops! I had the great fortune of seeing Ellen Weinmeyer, whose a great family friend, as well as wife to one of the original founding members of No Barriers, Erik Wienmeyer.  Always kind, and thoughtful, she immediately noticed something was missing. She kindly offered to see what she could do to find me a stick to use for the duration of the summit.  As we parted ways, I sincerely hoped we'd find each other again.  I headed into 'innovation village', and immediately saw familiar faces, at the Push America tent.  It was great running into Kyle first off.  I figured I'd see him there, but I couldn't have had better luck running into him, as he volunteered to walk me over to registration.  Losing my cane wasn't much of a problem, when theres a handsome man offering you an arm to get around.  Yes, that was my plan all along...  Kyle helped find the dinner area, after I got my registration materials, and then headed back to his tent.  I found more exceeding helpful people, wanting to fix my dinner plate, and help me to a table.  As I looked for a place to sit, I heard a familiar voice call my name.  I looked to see who it was, and recognized Bob, a man who volunteered to asisst me while doing the summit hike 2 years ago.  It was great to reconnect with him, as I'd hoped to see him again.  If my memory serves me, Bob is a retired physical education teacher from California.  He's very sprye, and chipper, and was wonderful to sit, and catch up for some time.

After dinner, Ellie somehow found a trekking  stick I could use as a cane, for the duration of the summit.  I was so grateful, although, a bit concerned I may accidentally impale a stragner, weiding a sharp pointed stick around,  thankfully, that did not happen.   Opening ceremonies were held after dinner, and I was able to reconnect with Kristen and George there.  I've been so fortunate to get to know so many people from adaptive programs, it seemed a bit surreal, being recognized by so many different people.  I seem to recognize people auditorily, more than by sight.  Although I finally see well again, my memory doesn't hold onto visual images too well.  I literally need to meet most people 4 or 5 times, before I can easily recall  their names, and how I know them.  I've thought that was a detriment of my injury, as its been so difficult to remember so many new people, for so long.  Although, my mom wisely pointed out that I meet so many new people, everywhere I go, it'd be difficult for anyone to keep straight.  Whichever it is, I still feel exceptionally rude when I'm not able to recognize someone.

Opening ceremonies began, and I once again found Kristen, who'd gone back to the condo she'd rented in town, for a number of us to share.Kristen, George, myself, and a mother couple, of whom we saw very little.  Mark was retry sociable, although I only met his wife once in the 3 days we were there. I was tod we had great digs, and then eagerly focused on the introductions, and the incredible stories I heard from truly amazing, and thought provoking people.  I remember 3 speakers clearly, Dr. Hugh Herr, whose disability, I cannot recall, I want to say spinal cord,  from divi to shallow water, though I'm not certain.  I believe he's a very prominent physicist, from MIT.  There was a young woman, named Kate, who'd made a name for herself, as the first female collegiate football player.  She'd been raped by a teammate, her sophomore year at Colorado state, had a quite unsettling story of how her life had been derailed e from that horrific experience.  The speaker I was most stricken by, was Bob Woodruff, anews-reporter from ABC, who'd received a brain injury in the middle-east, while covering a war story. 

Every brain injury is different, as every brain is different, and so on.  Although, he was one of the only I've heard, with somewhat similar complications, from compromised vision, to limb spasticity.  I'd hoped for an opportunity to meet him, though he was only there that evening, and there was no real opportunity, sadly.

We headed into the Colorado night, bound for quiet, downtown Telluride.  Thankfully, it was a 10 minute trip.  The condo was modern, and quite spacious.  Quite a switch from the hotel room, at the resort, I'd planned to be in.  My bags were already in the room, when I walked in.  Amazing!  I was so thankful, as I was so tired.  I couldn't wait to get out for my paddling adventure, the next day.