One Brain Injury

This past Thursday and Friday Dean and I were fortunate enough to attend our eighth annual state brain injury conference in Nebraska. We look forward to it every spring. It's the only time we get to spend in a motel and are treated to gourmet-style foods for a couple of days.

The motel staff there seems to look forward to Dean's flamboyant presence every year. This year they gave us Room 222 on the 2nd floor, and I had to wonder if it wasn't to make it easier for him to remember his room number.

One of Dean's hangouts, I'm sure, was the motel lobby where the desk clerks were a captive audience to his thrilling stories and joking comments. I was constantly checking with them to see if they'd seen someone in a cowboy hat, only to find that I'd just missed him. So off I'd head for the conference center welcome desk or the vendor exhibit area to ask the same question. Have you seen Dean? Everyone always seemed to know who he is.

I got a lot of walking exercise those two days! We only lost his cane once (it ended up being right in our room). According to him, he kept losing me though, and I always claimed to have lost him. It got to be rather comical.

[My fears of his getting lost were not unfounded. As we were getting back on the Interstate, leaving Kearney to go home, Dean kept insisting that we needed I-80 West, and after I kept on taking I-80 East, he finally admitted he was thinking we were in Omaha...I rest my case.]

On a serious side, the conference, attended by almost 300 people every year, half professionals and half brain injury survivors and their families, is a learning experience, as well as a place to connect with old friends.

Why do we go back every year? For me, I just want to help others understand what brain injury really looks like. And I bring my own personal illustration in the form of my husband. All brain injuries are different, however, so the professionals need to see as many of us as they can.

One of the presenters understood this when she said, "When you've seen one brain injury, you've seen one brain injury."

I'm so glad God never fails to see our individuality too. We are all unique and valuable in His eyes. The world would be a much better place if we could remember this.

A bowling fundraiser 3 years ago at the conference!

My Cover

A friend and I were chatting about someone we both knew, and one of us mentioned that she now has dementia. Due to our mutual experience with this, we both said we recognized it awhile back. Repeating yourself is often the first sign that gets noticed by friends and loved ones.

Then as I was leaving the house yesterday to run some errands, I asked Dean's home health nurse, who happened to be there, to remind Dean where I was going, when he got through with his shower. I laughingly told her that between repeating myself for his poor hearing and for his memory deficits, I was doubly cursed with repeating things.

It dawned on me as I got into the car that I was certainly repeating things more than most people. And with a chuckle to myself, I wondered how my family will know that I might be starting to have dementia. That's alright though; it will be nice to have a "cover" for my old age forgetfulness. I can blame it on being a caregiver!

There's another cover that I'm using a lot too. It's the cover found in Psalm 91:4. "He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler." Yes, God is my refuge, my fortress, and my cover. I guess I can blame that on being a Christian.

A Sacrifice Worth Remembering

This morning my stomach is growling. I am purposely skipping breakfast, because Dean has forgotten to ask for it and I think a bit of a morning fast will be good for him. He overate last night, some of the wrong foods too, by the way, so maybe his body isn't telling him he's hungry this morning. Either that or his short-term memory mind is working to his benefit. In any event, I haven't offered to fix him anything or asked what he'd like for breakfast, so it looks like we BOTH may be fasting.

And why do I have to fast with him, you wonder? Well, if he sees or hears me eating, his fast will be off. The sight and sound of food speaks louder than his body growls, totally overruling even his brain's desire for food. (Don't have to worry about smell--he lost that sense when he had the brain injury.)

It's a sacrifice for me to refrain from eating. I'm counting the minutes when I can sneak in the kitchen and get a bite to eat. I'm quite a breakfast person, so this IS rather hard. But I will do it for my man. He's worth it.

I'm so glad I was deemed worth it to God. So worth it that He gave the supreme sacrifice, His very life, for MY benefit. No sacrifice can compare with that. That is one thing I don't dare forget. And the sacrifices that come with caregiving remind me of it daily.