Entry #2: After The Vicodin

“Oh cool! ‘Spamalot’ is coming to Denver! Oh. Nevermind. I bet that would hurt my brain.”

This and other unusual sentences have made their way into my thoughts lately. The car accident was January 26^th. The aftermath continues. I’ve disclosed bits and pieces of this chapter with a number of people now, but now that Spring Break has arrived I have a chance to update everyone on what’s been happening.

For the first month after the car accident my biggest concerns were related to the pain in my right side. I was lucky to escape rib fractures and a lacerated liver, but I had lots of muscle strain, join sprains, soft tissue adhesions in my rib cage, diaphragm, and surrounding muscles from my arm pit to my right hip. Everything hurt, including breathing and lying down. I didn’t wear a bra, or shoes that required lacing, for weeks. I couldn’t lift Kaiden, which caused both practical and emotional setbacks for both of us. Sometimes he needs to be picked up to be taken to the car seat he doesn’t want to enter, and other times he needs to be picked up because he just skinned his knee. But I couldn’t pick him up and hugs were intolerably painful. I wasn’t there for him all that much due to my injuries.

But something else started happening. In early January I had taken 8 hours of continuing education on the use of Therapeutic Yoga in Sports Rehabilitation toward my Athletic Trainer certification upkeep. After the accident I told Amy, “I think I would really benefit from… (*imagine awkward, pained stretching mime action here*)… you know… the stretching practice…” She volunteered, “You mean yoga?” Oh, what a relief it felt like to hear the word I was working so hard to find, which I thought I knew so well. Later the garbage disposal started leaking, and I referred to it as “the spinny thingy… in the sink...” That was happening more regularly than seemed normal, so Amy made me promise to bring it up at my next appointment. I shrugged it off. I had been on Vicodin and Valium for pain and muscle spasm for a few weeks. And pain can be very distracting in itself, so of course I was off my game. I just needed to heal physically and all would be well mentally.

I brought it up in passing at the end of my next appointment, after my doctor had already closed her laptop (signal that the visit is over). “Oh… and I almost forgot, but I promised I’d share with you on Amy’s behalf that I’m having some trouble word finding.” I fully expected, “Of course you are! You’re on Vicodin and Valium, and pain can be very distracting!” Instead she asked more questions, re-opened her laptop, and brought up the possibility of Mild Traumatic Brain Injury (MTBI). “Given the impact with which you were hit, it’s not unlikely.” With every fiber of my being, and with every rational argument I had, I argued with that conclusion. I had never lost consciousness, I had been completely alert at the accident, while being removed from my car I was noting that my blood pressure being read off by the paramedic indicated no internal bleeding… She dismissed my arguments and told me I’d need to stop multi-tasking immediately, which I am still wondering how to accomplish. I also began to realize at that appointment what it might mean for our family if I had to drastically cut back on my activitiy. That was the first time I would weep after the accident, but not the last.

After the Vicodin and Valium weren't needed for pain anymore, things got worse. I had blamed the medications for the sluggishness and fatigue, but didn't realize how much they had masked until I stopped them. Increased symptoms after I came off the meds made it clear that I was indeed suffering from MBTI. Light and sound sensitivity are the most significant symptoms so far, so the blinds have been closed for weeks, and I’m walking around with ear plugs a lot. Then there’s the headaches, major sensitivity to smells, and persistent fatigue. I’m terribly slow getting anywhere, and when I’m in conversation I’m not as mentally nimble, so I can be derailed from a sentence if there’s a background noise or if someone cuts into the conversation to add something. I’ve been doing a lot of, “Now where was I?”

The emotional roller coaster has been an interesting thing I’ve never experienced. I’ll have to return my “Mother Of The Year” award (the one I was awarded after catching Kaiden’s vomit in my hands in order to save the sofa a few months ago). Last week Kaiden and the puppy were playing like crazy, running around the main floor, and neither seemed to be hearing me tell them to calm down, so I screamed at the top of my lungs, “JUST STOP!!!! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!!! I CAN’T STAND IT!!” They both stopped. But coming unhinged isn’t something I strive for as a means of achieving peace in the home. Symptoms of anxiety just creep up, not due to any thoughts of anything anxiety-provoking. I could be watching a funny show or something, and suddenly my heart is beating like crazy and I feel a major surge of adrenaline to help me through whatever crisis my body thinks is happening. It’s all neurological. I’ve never had any experience with anxiety attacks in the past, but know so many people who do suffer from them, so this is a whole new understanding of what that’s like.

The treatment is mental rest, which feels like a seriously defeating suggestion. I’ve got a job and a 4 year-old, and Amy travels a lot, so there are days when resting mentally just isn’t possible. I’m grateful to be working from home, as it has allowed me to take naps in the middle of the day, which I have discovered help me recharge enough from a morning of grading papers that I don’t suffer from the headaches as much in the evenings. Amy has been very understanding and supportive. It has felt awful to ask her to do more than she’s already doing, but we have always made a pretty good team, and when one is down the other can usually step up. On several days she’s had to do the the drop-off at pre-school routine in the morning, the pick-up routine after pre-school, taking Kaiden to his weekly gymnastics lessons, and the bedtime reading routine. We’ve suspended swim lessons, and thankfully ski lessons are finished for the year, so that’s a few items off our plates. I’ve also been ordered to stop volunteering for things, and to stop attending really interesting professional development opportunities that come along (It was a full-day professional development workshop I was headed to when I got into the accident.) We don’t go out much, because the background noise feels like it’s flicking my brain and I spend the whole time wincing. Life has taken on a slower and more reclusive pace for me, while Amy’s life has sped up considerably.

Despite the increased stress levels, I continue to count my blessings on most days. I’ve been in very good hands medically, from the ER to my doctor, physical therapist, massage therapist and the speech therapist doing my cognitive rehab. Finally, through my years of working with injured people in hospitals and in sporting venues, I’ve known many people who have been in collisions far more minor, who ended up with injuries that were far more severe. It could have been so much worse. All I can do is follow everyone’s medical advice and pray my brain will recover to its pre-injury capacity with some speed, but realize there may be a “new normal” for us to adjust to in the Doyle home for an unknown time to come.

I hold no malice toward the other driver. I am working on the assumption that he was not impaired by drugs or alcohol, wasn't texting, and wasn't doing anything else terribly irresponsible while driving. Even with these assumptions, I know that accidents happen. I have coasted through intersections twice in my life on black ice, and by some miracle in both cases no one was in the intersection for me to hit. Driving is a dangerous activity, and things like this are always possible, and sometimes result in far worse than what I'm dealing with. In this accident, despite several witness accounts that the other motorist had a red light, and a police citation for running a red light, he continues to insist he had the green light. From his side of things he experienced a 45mph head-on collision that sent the other car (me) across three lanes of traffic and spun his car 180 degrees and left it un-drivable. He was walking around the accident scene after the accident, but as much as I’m having after-effects from the accident, I have to believe he is having after-effects as well. I hope he’s ok. He’ll turn 80 this year.

Thank you to all for your questions of how you might help. Amy’s dear friend Donna has cooked and frozen enough meals for us to feed us for a few weeks, which is an incredible help for us. The freezer is officially at capacity. We’re making adjustments to our daily routines and reallocation of workload around here, and have removed some of the things I used to do. Spring Break has finally arrived for me and my mother is coming to the rescue from Chicago for the second time in 6 weeks in order to let me rest even more. Finally, now that Amy and I have embraced this new reality, and have experienced our new limitations, we’ll do a better job of reaching out and asking for help when we need it. We know we have a lot of wonderful people around us, so now we just need to impose upon you when it’s sensible. Thanks again, and for those who pray, continue to send prayers for all three of us. J