BIHN Blog

  It’s funny how life works sometimes… I recently (last weekend!) ran across the original magazine that holds the original article on Embracing Insomnia. When David and Sarah asked about a recap, it had already been floating around in my broken noggin. This article was written at the 13 year mark. I am now at 21.5 years. Still ‘embracing the insomnia’ the best I can… Here is my ‘update’. Since I wrote this originally, I changed careers (again) and went back to work full time (VERY proud of that!). I have also been a caretaker for my husband, who had vascular dementia, along with working my regular job. Honestly, insomnia probably was the largest assist during this time, because I had more hours to work with throughout the day than most people. My husband passed away 2 years ago, leaving me a bit broken and lost. I relocated from my coastal home to be closer to my family and have retired from my job. I still do advocacy regarding brain injury and also try to support those coping thr...

The date was October 5th, 2024. I had made plans with a friend to go pick them up and drive them back to my house so we could hang out. I needed a willing driver to make this happen, and my most caring sister—who would do anything for me—offered to take the drive. On the way back from picking up my friend, disaster struck. A semi-truck collided head-on with my sister’s car, which I didn’t learn until later tragically took her life. My friend and I both experienced severe injuries. The worst of mine was a traumatic brain injury, along with two broken arms and broken femurs. Shortly after the accident, two separate helicopters arrived at the scene, and my friend and I were airlifted out—my friend conscious, and me unconscious in a coma. The helicopter crew had to work extremely hard just to keep me alive during the trip to Chicago. Eventually, thanks to their incredible efforts, I made it to Chicago alive, but still unconscious. The first of the three hospitals I was treated at was th...

It all started in 2005. We had just gotten engaged, and I was noticing a flashing in the lower left-hand corner of my eyes, known as vision seizures. My PCP sent me for an MRI and found that I had a brain tumor. I was sent to Mass General in Boston to see a specialist. The tumor kept growing, and we were told it needed to be removed before it was too late. It was a very rare tumor, and the oncologist said that there were only 50 known cases of this type of tumor in the world in 2009 that they knew of. They did know that it can grow back on other organs. I mentioned to my new wife-to-be that if she wanted to opt out of marriage because of circumstances unknown, that I would understand. She said no, that we were in this together, and she has been there right along the whole way. We married August 23, 2006, and she is the most loving, caring wife and caregiver I could ever ask for. And I know it was harder on her than on me. A caregiver and support system is of most importance to get thr...

 Hi, my name is Ellie. My story begins when I was 18 years old; I was newly married and nearly 8 months pregnant. I went into early labour, and on the way to the hospital we were in a devastating accident with a dump truck. I lost my baby girl, broke many bones, had internal ruptures, etc., but the most significant injury was a diffuse axonal brain injury. I was in a coma for a month — upon awakening I thought I was 5 years old. I couldn’t walk or talk beyond a few simple words. I also didn’t have the memory retention to understand what had happened. I would think I was still going into labour and repeatedly be told — she didn’t survive the accident, and I had such damage to my body I couldn’t carry future babies. My Last Day in Hospital, 2011 I had to relearn everything about how to function right from the basics of feeding and clothing myself. How to read, write, do basic math — understand my challenges. I spent 2 years between the hospital and a rehabilitation facility call...

  Last week, while scrolling through my news feed on social media, I had a rather abrupt realization: my life looks pretty normal these days. I’m not one of those disingenuous souls who carefully curates every post. In fact, I lean decidedly the other way. My lack of a verbal filter means I can occasionally be overly candid. Rarely does anyone have to ask me what I really mean. But as I scrolled through my posts from the last few weeks, a picture emerged — a picture of someone enjoying life. There were several photos of flowers from our gardens. I’ve found great joy in the simple tasks that come with tending to my flower beds. Weeding, pruning, and regular fertilizing result in abundant blooms I’m not shy about showing off. This has been a year of outdoor hardscape projects, projects I’m equally boastful of. Ask me about the new Trex deck I recently built, and you’ll certainly get an earful. How about that fresh mulch I spread just last weekend? Nothing beats the sme...

  November has never been my favorite month. I’ve said for years that I was misplaced at birth. Being a lover of warm, tropical weather while living in New Hampshire does present a challenge. November is also an anniversary month. On November 11, the fifteen-year anniversary of the accident that changed everything came to pass. I marvel that it’s been a decade and a half since I was struck while cycling on Main Street. I’ve had fourteen anniversaries before this year’s milestone. One might think they are all the same, but this year was tough. Perhaps the toughest. While I am a brain injury survivor, I also live with treatment-resistant PTSD, the direct result of my accident. The weeks leading up to this month’s anniversary were cruel. My PTSD manifests primarily in the form of night terrors. Not just a typical bad dream (I could only wish for those!), I wake often covered in sweat, sometimes yelling, sometimes sobbing. If it sounds dreadful, it’s because it is. My he...

  Times certainly feel more than a bit uncertain these days. World conflicts, divisiveness, and other events in the world at large seem to be ramping up at unprecedented speed. It’s cause for concern for anyone with a heartbeat. But living with a brain injury changes things in ways I never envisioned. I learned firsthand the challenges of losing my verbal filter. Stand in front of me in the 12 items or less line with 14 items, and I wouldn’t be shy about expressing my dissatisfaction, often quite verbally. For the first couple of years after my 2010 brain injury, I was a loose cannon. Sarah had a legitimate reason for being concerned about taking me out in public. Almost fifteen years later, we’ve learned to laugh at those early unfiltered experiences, but at the time, there was nothing funny about it. However, there is another filter loss that not too many people seem to talk about, the loss of my emotional filter. In my pre-injury life, I was able to watch the news ...