Life as a love gangster

This blog is written for cathartic purposes, to discuss my challenges in a (hopefully) light hearted way that may help others in a similar position out there, as I know what it’s like not to have any idea what the hell is happening to me. It is also used to discuss the strategies I have been taught and learned that I use to deal with the severe changes that my personality went through a few years ago, which left me a different man, with many different problems.

Many things certainly have changed, I can be more honest than most about that than most people. Like I can be more of a bastard now, that’s for sure. Especially when I’m angry! And that is quite often. I have more PITA (PAIN IN THE ARSE) traits than a lot of people, but one thing I will say that hasn’t changed is that this picture still depicts the moment captured on the best day of my life.

So a big thing to consider about brain injury, or perhaps the success of your rehab, largely depends on the sort of people you have around you. If they are not willing to change with you and accept some pretty major differences, then they are a lost cause. And a lot of people are a lost cause, and have really not made things easy for me. There are many family members and ex friends who just won’t ever get their heads round things. And that has hurt me so much. But, as my dear old nan says, and my dear old father in law recently corrected my spelling on….

C’EST LA VIE 

This picture was taken 6 months after the one you can see of Dani and I on our wedding day above. This was also only a few hours before my accident, the last photo taken of the “old Mikey”, of me being happy. This is the Mikey that a lot people seemed to prefer.  I don’t even remember being him anymore, it’s weird. All the pictures on my wedding day are of someone else as far as I’m concerned. And I look about 17 years old (I’m the one on the left BTW.)

I’m finally getting my life back, three years on. I’m so happy to be mixing with people again, being out in the real world and back on the train that will get me to my dream. It’s going in the right direction. I’m so grateful to be where I am you have no idea. For the first time in three years I’m actually making friends again.. feeling slightly normal again dare I say it. Actually, the tutor group I have now are a million times better than the one I had before my accident. And the only other male on the course is in my group… Cue the bromance!

One of the things I have always said to Dani, though all the nonsense that we’ve been through, is that at the end of it all when the dust has settled and the fog has cleared we would be standing together (cue music from Armageddon… blurgh). I’m not saying the fog has cleared totally, or if it ever will,  I’m just stating that I’ve got the HEART and SOUL of a LION – and Dani has proved that she has too.

This picture – shows me at deaths door. Sepsis, a severe blow to the head and countless other unfortunate mishaps left me in a sorry state. Dani was waiting to fly back to England with my mum at this point, my dad was taking the picture. I was about to be flew home on an air ambulance, a 17 hour journey that I remember like it was yesterday.

You must remember, that at the beginning of all this – there was Dani. She was conscious when she found me hanging upside down still  in my lap belt in the minibus, her and some passers by were kind enough to drag me out. The drivers of the minibus were sat outside having a fag.

Dani was in the ambulances, she was flown home on a separate flight to me and the flight her and my mum took back became bogged down with their tears.

My O2 sat levels were in their 70s, my pulse was racing and I had to be resuscitated and ventilated for two weeks. Dani obviously had to watch all this. She and my parents had to stave off the mafioso who tried to get my fingerprints onto disclaimer documents when I was in my coma.

Living with someone who has a brain injury is something that I could not do. 

NO ONE will ever understand what she had to endure but her, but I wanted to dedicate this blog to Dani just because it would be unfair of me to write about all of my daily struggles and recount the tails of woe without recognising the hell she went through.

Only a few months after the picture above was taken, this was one was taken back in England at home in my garden –

Nearly three stone lighter and dazed beyond all recognition, but I still had Dani to my right and a glass of Taittinger champagne to my left. I look at this picture and one day, when this is all finished (my claim) I want to send this picture to the people responsible for my accident and those who tried to bully my family into signing a document written in a foreign language. I would want the words to read the same as when I was making this toast:

“YOU NEED MORE THAN THAT TO GET RID OF ME”

Only this time I’d like to add the word “fuckers” to the end. I couldn’t really say that during the toast as my mum was there.

My mum reads this blog. Gutted. Sorry mum, but like I said in the previous blog, sometimes you just have to adopt the IDGAF attitude.

How else will two people be crazy enough to still be standing through all that?

The main reason it’s been a couple of week since my last blog is because I have been fervently trying to correct my first brain injury booboo of the university semester. Not the worse booboo I’ve made of all time, but a pain in my bosom all the same.

So I’m a couple of week’s into studying for my big exam in January: Anatomy and physiology, for which we have no lectures: just independent learning. This suits me down to the ground, as I need to take more breaks during revision time than the average bear nowadays anyway. So the uni bods have put a revision calendar up online for us, with which topics we should be studying week by week. There have been about 3 different topics each week so far.

The Booboo

So I merrily get to the end of the second week, thinking I’m doing a pretty good job. Everyone is worrying about how much work needs to be done, but I can’t really understand that. We have plenty of time. I’m logging on to my course calendar at the end of the second week, and I spot it. It looks like this;

Week 1                                                                Week 2 

Organisation of the body                                     Tissues

Cells of the body                                    Integumentary System

Genetics                                                     Immune system

I had been studying the first topics of the week no problem e.g. Organisation and tissues. I was completely forgetting there were another two topics to study in depth after the first one..doh! This only left me two weeks behind, which I managed to catch up on. Rather two weeks in then a month in, that’s what I say. This is a perfect demonstration of a  brain injury symptom I have issues with: impulsivity. Not the worse case I’ve ever had, but I’ll take this as an early warning from the brain injury fairy.

Impulsivity and lack of filter pretty much go hand in hand and since starting uni  there have been a few moments where words have escaped my lips before I had time to asses or stop them. It just so happens to be rotten luck that a few of these times have been in a lecture hall in front of 400 people. Cest la vie.

In lectures, I find that if someone next to me or within earshot mumbles something under their breath that’s not a suitable thing to say out loud,  or that I think is jolly funny, maybe something a bit cheeky like “good afternoon” when the lecturer arrives half an hour late for a morning lecture, I find myself shouting it out before I’ve had a chance to think about it.

Again nothing too major, just another warning  from the fairy. I really would shoot that little bitch if I could catch her. Whoever thought being so truthful could get you in such pickles.

• One thing I get all the time, and I don’t blame people for saying this, is: “Oh I wouldn’t worry. I get THAT all the time. That is ALWAYS happening to me. I misplace things ALL the time. Oh don’t worry, even I get a dodgy head when THAT happens.”

The mentality of human beings is to try and fix what is broken. The reality of living with brain injury is that thing’s like this do NOT get fixed, it is part of who you are now. Another reason BI is so misunderstood is that the symptoms are not exclusive to brain injury alone. Here are just a few examples of the responses I’ve had over the years:

• “Try not to blame your anxiety on your brain injury. It’s life: it’s not easy for anyone.”
• “I know why you are so dizzy all the time, it’s your Blood sugar. Try eating before during and after,  you’ll feel a lot better. It’s not a brain injury – TRUST ME.”
• “You can’t talk like that. I don’t agree with it. I think it is wrong, you are wrong for saying it.”
• “It might be unintentional, but you are causing BIG problems for us here”
• “Everyone get’s tired. That’s just normal”

“You can walk 200 metres? You’re not in a wheelchair? You can’t work but you say you are severely exhausted after minimal activity? You’re  NOT entitled to this. I don’t see any reason you can’t be returning to work in two months” – Medical Professional 2011, the same year of my injury.

The only way you can hope to get around this sort of bullshit is meticulous planning, learning techniques to help,  build strategies that work for you etc. E.G. For me, if I know I will be in a situation that I will most likely become angry, like meeting with certain people, I prime myself. I envisage wearing my nurse’s uniform. I never get angry as a nurse. It’s nothing personal.

My family and I had to pay 35K to get that idea

These ridiculous and insensitive comments were ALL made by grown adults. Some advice for non brain injured people might be: You don’t ALWAYS have to say something. You can be just as caring if you are SILENT.  Anyone else out there who does have a brain injury and is reading this blog, this piece of advice is for you my friends:

Learn not to care too much what people think of you. 

This is a hard pill to swallow, and has taken me nearly three years to perfect. If I really cared about what people thought of me, I certainly wouldn’t be going back to university go try and get a degree in paediatric nursing! I would never get to sleep at night. I wouldn’t be able to get up in the mornings. I would be anxious, worried and angry all the time.

You need to accept the fact that your brain is a lot slower now. Being completely misunderstood and therefore totally isolated is an occupational hazard and a certainty with BI. Blurting things out, making really inappropriate comments and often being a little “too truthful” is something you’re just gonna have to accept and learn to live with, for now at least. Things will get better.

IDGAF = I don’t give a monkeys

I’ll tell ya something for nothing –  I am quite glad I can listen to lectures we have on the exam at home,  because every 30 seconds I find myself pausing the lecture and letting my brain make sense of the fact that was just explained to me. It is unreal just how slow my brain is compared to how it used to be!  When someone tells me a joke, I often don’t get it. So I’m left standing there while the tumbleweeds come and go, the situation growing all the more awkward by the minute (I had happen most recently with my tutor lol. Not understanding the punchline of jokes is another symptom of brain injury). People must think I’m mad, but mostly people think I’m just pissed off with what they’ve said.

Some of you might be thinking “He says he struggles, but this blog is written pretty good. How can he say he has these problems and write so well?” Well my friends, that’s just the shite reality of brain injury. I can write words and if they need to be changed before you read them, I can go back and edit them. You can’t do that in a conversation, once it’s said that’s tough poop. It takes effort to write like this, so don’t be fooled. Or ignorant. That’s why it is such a risk me writing this thing, it might serve to confuse you even more, which certainly is not my intention and I hope I’m not!

One of the most important things you need to learn if you are living with a jolly old BI is you MUST ACCEPT and ADAPT

•  You need more time to do things now.
• You will make more mistakes now. Allow time for these, don’t beat yourself up.

I’ve been living this for three years now, so I know what time the clock says. In brain injury world, it is a miracle I’m returning to uni at this time, as it is still very early days.

You’re still alive. Still functioning, even if it is a little less than before.

This was the hardest thing for me was to accept I am no longer the person I used to be in regards of temperament, intelligence, wittiness, social etiquette etc etc…

If I am in a situation where detailed information is being explained, and I can access it another way that is simpler and less fatiguing to me, I’ll just zone out. Whether in a lecture hall or a conversation, If I think it is not important that I waste precious glycogen or neuron firing on this task in front of me then I will ignore yo’ ass. I’ll try my best to do it in a way that is socially acceptable but if it is still left leaving a bad taste in your mouth – IDGAF. 

Self preservation. You HAVE to be selfish sometimes, otherwise you won’t survive brain injury.

I’ll end this blog with one of the most important quotes anyone who is lucky enough to have beat the odds like me must always bear in mind:

All this would be a lot harder being sat in a wheelchair.

When I look back to where I was this time last year it certainly puts things nicely into perspective. I want to talk very openly about something that I am sure none of you reading this blog will understand or really comprehend, but sod that it’s good to get it out. Cathartic is the word! Right then, here goes….

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is something I am pretty sure you will all have heard of. PTSD is caused by a traumatic event that you then go on to relive later in your life, sometimes months or even years after the initial trauma. Your brain cant deal with this traumatic event at the time, so instead it stores it away and tries to work through and understand it later on. This is PTSD.

So despite my wife telling me I threw myself over her and said that everything would be ok when our minibus started to veer off the road after a loud bang, I am unable to remember this as my brain didn’t store it properly. It was too traumatic.

Of course, the subarachnoid haemorrhage I had sustained probably didn’t help, nor the Haematoma to the frontal and parietal lobes of my brain, nor the pettechial haemorrhages, or the 7 or so different fractures to my skull and neck. The diffuse axonal injury that I had (this is where the brain cells are torn to shreds and destroyed) wouldn’t of helped this. The sepsis (blood poisoning) that later came  wouldn’t have helped either. Nor the MRSA. Even the sodding ringworm I got from the foreign hospital would have helped keep me too ill to recollect! C’est La Vie –  as my dear old nan would say.

So for me, the early signs of PTSD included totally destroying my laptop, because I thought the police would come and get me and I didn’t want them to track my whereabouts online. I was severely paranoid and unwell, I was expecting a knock at the door at any moment. Night and day I was constantly petrified that I would either have a seizure (my chances had gone up following my brain injury) or worse, that I would get a knock at the door and be arrested and sent to prison for something I did not do.I was diagnosed with severe PTSD in November 2012. I couldn’t eat, sleep or handle any change to my routine, even something as small as a knock at the door. But I tried to hide it, not really understanding it myself.

I recall one night where Dani and her friends went out for the evening, and I was so paranoid something terrible was going to happen to them. I tried ringing them constantly, going out my mind with worry.

When one of her friends woke up Reese (who was a newborn at the time) I stormed into the kitchen and told them “well done! She isn’t going back to sleep now, thanks a lot!” None of them understood what I was going through, understandably, and one of her friends even avoided me for many months to follow, not agreeing with how I had talked to them on the night. I went on to vomit several times the next day.

The PTSD was gripping my existence and controlling my life.

The lack of understanding from the people around me was not their fault. Some SAS soldier’s leave the regiment and are so severely misunderstood it sends them mad, and they end up shooting someone, or believing their girlfriend is the devil and she is trying to kill them.

I’m pretty sure you are putting this down to being a huge WTF explanation, but only now, having gone through this extremely scary and lonely place, can I honestly understand how someone could be convinced of this.

It got to the point in my life where not even the closest people around me were giving me any understanding, I felt I was being treated like a criminal and I felt constantly racked with guilt, like I was doing something severely wrong. It was at this point that I really considered whether I could carry on living like this. I seriously contemplated another way out.

One thing that stopped me from wanting to do anything like that; nursing. The one thing that I would hate more than anything was to be a coward, to give up. I might be going through a bad time but there was no way I wanted to give up. This was honestly the thing that kept me from thinking about doing anything stupid. I hated the idea of being a quitter, and I had so much more I wanted to get on with.

It got to the point where so many bad things were happening to me, so many people were pushing me out (albeit unintentionally, and more in an  emotional sense than a physical one), that I was starting to think that way. No one was helping or even acknowledging I had a problem. Then, the worse day of my life ensued.

The short story is this; I was the editor of the Student Nursing Times magazine, and my duty was to hand out an award at a very prestigious and televised event, hosted by the Nurrsing Times. It was everything I had dreamed of all my life, this was all I wanted and all I strived for, the moment had come.

The PTSD struck the night before, giving me unexplainable anxiety. I didn’t sleep all night and unfortunately I couldn’t give out the award. I had to watch the three other student editors go up to a huge applause from the 200 strong very reputable  audience, including viv Bennett (Director of nursing at DOH) and Jayn Cummings (Director of Nursing for the NHS). I regret this more than I’ve regretted anything in my life.

 Dani, me and Jenni Middleton, Editor of Nursing Times.

So, the months go by. I get a taste for valium and booze, often together. I was now on my own, and had been for a long time. But in the end I was rescued, and I was offered help provided by the number one brain injury centre for rehab in the world, based in Cambridge,  I was able to finally be treated for my BI and PTSD, nearly two years after my crash. I attended the four month rehab programme and it changed my life.

I learned how to live again. I learned how to depend on myself and myself alone, amongst continued misunderstandings and feeling increasingly ostracised from the people back home. I learned to find peace within the storm. I learned that I’m not such a hard and selfish bastard that constantly gets things wrong and upsets people at every turn I make. I decided to try and make a bit of a comeback. Enter, theme tune from Rocky.

I decided to lift heavy weights to get big and increase my stamina, I decided to challenge myself at every chance I got and I learned never to rely on anyone but me!

I decided to go out at every chance I got to increase my stamina, never turn something down and to never turn down a new challenge. The Nursing Times awards, or perhaps the failure of it, certainly did something to me. It made me completely and utterly fearless. It sparked something in me. So ferocious, so intense, so angry and driven and determined, that no matter what, no matter how hard life thinks it can be, no matter how much pain I go through on a daily basis, I promise myself that I will never be made to feel like I did on that day. And if that means three years of pain and increasing challenges, fuck it, I have no choice. In fact, I’m still pissed off about the awards catastrophe  that I look for challenges to overcome now. Gonna jump put an aeroplane soon.

To conclude, I can tell you something about myself that has come about from  these experiences that I definitely see as a positive; I no longer suffer from anxiety. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I was nervous. Not even on the first day of uni. I just don’t feel stress, pressure or nerves anymore. This is why I thank god for giving me that experience at the awards. On that night,  it was definitely 1 – 0 to the devil, or fate or whatever you want to call it. Time to even out the score now I reckon.

It has also taught me that it was not anyone else’s fault that I felt the way I did. When you are born, a bearded man, God, Allah or the Elephant god do not hand you a manual on what to do after you have a brain injury, or how to deal with a loved one with a mental health condition. I’m not angry at any of my family, if anything I feel for them. They had to watch me go on this destructive path and were left standing helpless on the sidelines. I feel for them in that respect. They are also a big part of why I am here today.

So a bit long winded, a bit full on but I can say it was all written honestly. And most importantly it made me feel better, which is why I write a blog.

Thank you all for your kind comments about my blogs so far, it has made me feel really good. When you write an article or a story, praise is always welcome. But when you are writing about experiences that are so close to you, your honest feelings that have been so misunderstood for years and  you’ve never really shared properly, it feels even better. I’m just glad I’m not ranting. Either that or you’re all just being polite! I promise to keep them shorter and a lot less heavy from now on. I just wanted to speak about this as I’ve been reading a lot about soldiers and PTSD lately, it’s out of my system now though.

On the point of ranting, I’ll finish with this: I was having a haircut today, the hairdresser lady spoke Spanish. She had used to live in Spain. I wanted to say something to her in Spanish that I had learned years ago –

“Tutiennes problemas?” I said cockily, feeling good that I had remembered it.

“Close. People will understand what you’re saying, even if it’s not said in the right way” She said.

“Think that’s just everyday life for me” I said.

It said it on the hat and I meant it. Hustle Hard.

So I guess I’m taking a risk with this blog post, as my previous rants have both been planned, I had an agenda for what I was going to write. This one will be unique in the fact that I’m just going to see what comes up. So apologies if it ends up being nonsensical drivel.

My first month of attending university is almost complete. I have made friends and managed to avoid making a tit out of myself too much. Obviously there have been a few occasions where my damaged Amygdala has meant I’ve said some pretty silly things, but on the whole they have been pretty minimal.

Just in case you don’t know, the Amygdala is the structure of your brain that allows for filtering. So remember this the next time a co worker or a boss aggravates you, and you want to tell them to STFU (young persons talk) but you stop yourself, because you value your status as “employed” too much…. think of me. My Amygdala doesn’t work as well as yours, and i’m pretty sure any future blogs will clarify that!

On top of the good news that my titivating (this is the word I will use for making a tit out of myself) has been at a reasonably minimal level, I am happy to report I have finished my first assignment. It’s only a practice one, just to get us all prepared for the real thing. Pretty happy with the effort. The dizziness I get when writing for prolonged periods of time is certainly something I’ll have to keep an eye on. The fact that this often leads to sickness (similar to motion sickness) is another  reason I’ll need to keep a sharp eye out for it. Would hate to throw up on any of my new found co students.

This is where I think my obsession with the Special Air Service (SAS) comes into good practice:

PPPPPP = Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance

Every single day for me is like an SAS operation that I need to meticulously plan for. Enter the infamous butterfly feeling in my head (this was one of the first symptoms I found after having a severe brain injury). Sounds cute having butterflies flying around in your head. But if you knew what it was like, after five minutes you would only want to shoot the bastards. But this has slowly changed over time. The gentle butterflies have now turned in to fierce pounding  of the temples, extreme vertigo and even ringing in the ears.

Before the start of my day, I need to ask myself questions to prepare for any unfortunate eventuality that arises

What happens if fatigue comes on thick and fast?  What if I don’t have food or water to help? What if I become dizzy when driving? What can I do to improve the situation? What can I do to prevent this from happening? What measures can I put in place if these things do happen? Which lectures do I really need to attend? What if I say something that might offend someone without meaning to or realising it? What can I do to help prevent this? How long will this take? What are the dos and dont’s when you meet someone? What if I cause upset my saying something that I think is harmless and normal but actually it’s extremely offensive and not socially acceptable? How can I avoid this?

I’ve been working hard for two and a half years on these types of questions. I’ve had to learn the hard way, as every BI is different and therefore no body else can you tell you what to do and how to deal with it  but you. One thing I have learned is that the only way you can ever hope to survive a brain injury and have a normal life, is to live in the present. If something happens, so what. Will anyone die? Will anyone be hurt? Don’t waste precious glucose or ATM stores (process of cell energy in your body) Will it be the end for humankind as we know it? I doubt it. Maybe I can come across too laid back about things some times, but I think that’s only because I’ve experienced things when they can’t possibly get any worse. And no, I don’t mean dealing with Eastenders being canceled. I’m talking about every decent indian or pizza takeaway being closed in dorset. Heavy stuff.

I had everything. The editor of Nursing Times once dubbed me as a “nursing celeb”. I was becoming a name synonymous with everything I am deeply passionate for and love about my profession. I was intelligent, quick witted, funny, smart, confident, calm, serene. It was all snatched away.

My personality has undergone a major change and it’s taken a while to get to know the new me; now I’m clumsy, forgetful, unreliable, constantly exhausted, dizzy, slow to think things through and I have a bad temper. It’s hard to follow conversation and put sentences together.

I’ve hurt a lot of people by not having a filter, albeit unintentionally and I’ve learned how to live with being cast out, not understood and depending on my own initiative to survive. Even if this initiative means it is socially unacceptable, I have to follow it.

Brain injury is socially misunderstood and unacceptable. You can’t see it or treat it. You can only live with it and try your best.

I’ll end this blog with my favourite Nick Stone quote. Nick Stone is a fictional character invented by Andy Mcnab (ex SAS soldier who now writes novels) who’s books I have loved and learned a lot from for many years.

“I’ve never thought much about when I have hurt people, or about love, pain or dying. Deep things, I tend not to get stuck thinking about them. We can’t do anything, so why spend time worrying? But I’ve always kept the same mantra. It’s helped me to overcome fear, crack on with a job and helped me to get stuck in with things: Fuck it.”

Some Brain Injury Pub Quiz Trivia For The Boffins-

• 85% of people who suffer a severe brain injury never return to full time employment.
• A high percentage remain in a wheelchair and in a vegetative state.
• Over 90% of marriages after one spouse has acquired a brain injury ends in divorce.
• Of the 1.7 million who sustain a TBI each year in the United States:
• 52,000 die;
• 275,000 are hospitalised

So if you are reading this blog, you may know of or even be somebody that has suffered a brain injury. Chances are you have scoured the web for SOME useful information or help on the subject of brain injury (I’m going to refer to it as BI from this point on) but have drawn a blank. Well, if you’re new to this, I have some news for you… there isn’t much help or understanding out there! Or maybe you’re just part of the unknowing public.   I suffered a brain injury two and a half years ago. It tore my life apart and I was left with a new personality and many difficult symptoms, that I will spend the rest of my life living with. I consider myself extremely lucky. Albeit so that I was on my honeymoon when I suffered this near fatal  injury, I was veery nearly not so lucky. I was resuscitated (remember this), in a two week coma (remember this too) and I beat sepsis, MRSA and shit loads of other abbreviated medical nasties so I definitely am one of the lucky ones, let us rejoice with gin and tonic. I can’t go into specifics, as I currently have a substantial claim against the sods who were responsible. Plus, I don’t want mafioso from a certain country reading this and finding out where my wife, two year old daughter and I live. This is considering the safety of the mafioso of course, not ours. Let’s just say it was NOT the honeymoon my wife nor I envisaged having.   Five days ago, I embarked on my journey to fulfil a dream and ambition of mine, to become a child nurse. I was six months in to my training when I suffered my BI, and after two and a half years of torment, complete social isolation and a lot of emotional pain and trauma, only now do I feel I have some of the resources needed to attempt to successfully complete my training. Believing in some form of god, elephant trunked, bearded or otherwise, may also come in handy.   This blog will aim to shed light on someone who’s life is filled with many problems that are unseen and often severely misunderstood.  I will be recording all of my experience here, on this new blog, in the hope that it might help some other poor sap out there in a similar position to me. If that  sounds like a hoot and you would like to hear more about it, pull up a chair (and a box of tissues) and have a read, there will be more to come.   I would like to make an official note of this now, so that it can be dug out from the archives one day: I WILL DO THIS. By probability I should be in a wheelchair or not alive. I beat that so why the hell not go the whole hog?!   Stay posted..it’s gonna be a blast!