Confessions of a Concussed Cyclist: two-years post accident

August 19, 2016

Dear Driver,
    Do you realize what today is?  Does this day haunt you, the way it haunts me?  Do you relive it, thinking what you should have done differently?  I do all the time. I think I never should have gone on that bike ride.  I never should have been on that street. I think if you had just waited 30 seconds, how different my life would be.  Do you realize it has been two years since you robbed me.
    Cycling has been my passion for six years.  From my first road ride, I fell in love. I enjoyed the speed, the challenge, the reward.  I biked near daily, sometimes a few times a day, thousands of miles a year. But you robbed me.  I can now only bike when my head allows for it and even then, I may start off feeling great but something triggers my rattled brain and I shut down.  Ride over. Riding is not so carefree for me any more. I find myself always afraid that the next car will hit me. You robbed me.
     One thing you don’t know about me, is that I have six nieces and nephews.  I love spending time with them, seeing them grow, but you robbed me of this.  I get overstimulated by them and their noise levels become too much for me. Dance recitals I have to close my eyes because the flashing lights now cause a sort of seizure effect.  Birthday parties I need to wear ear-plugs. Dinners I need to leave early. I miss time with family and friends. You robbed me.
    Since the age of eight, I have wanted to be a Special Education teacher.  Nothing else ever appealed to me. Teaching comes naturally to me, but even with this, you’ve robbed me.  My ability to do my job has been questioned for two years. Am I able to do it? Is it detrimental to my recovery to stay in this field?  If I ever left Special Education, it was supposed to be my decision…but you robbed me of this, it may not end on my terms.
    Another thing you don’t know about me is I always wanted to be a wife and a mother, someday.  I’ve had to let this dream go over the past two years. Dating in this area is hard enough, it’s harder when you have constant migraines and a head injury.  Who wants to date a girl that sleeps so much, that cancels last minute because her head hurts, and who needs to ration her energy? The thought of having my own children now seems impossible.  With the amount of sleep I now require and constant migraines, how does a child factor into that? You robbed me.

You’ve robbed me of memories and moments.

You’ve robbed me of miles on my bike.

You’ve robbed me of dreams and ambitions.

I’ve tried very hard to not hate you and to let go of my anger.  I have not succeeded in this.

I’ve tried very hard to adjust to my “new normal” and to let go of the “old me”.  I have not succeeded in this either.

   I look back over the past two years.  I laugh at how after one month post-accident I was waving my white flag in mercy wanting the migraines to stop (if I only knew then, what I was in store for).  Then after six months post-accident I thought I couldn’t handle it any more. We are now twenty-four months post-accident…I’ve stopped thinking my head couldn’t hurt any worse, because I’ve learned it can.  I’ve stopped holding my breath at doctors appointments, hoping that we’ve found the right combination of medications and injections. I have long forgotten what it feels like to be headache free. I have long forgotten what it feels like to not be on eggshells waiting for one loud noise or the wrong pitch to send my head into an out of control spiral.  Did you know that some head injuries create pain in the back of the head? Constant pain. It’s not a headache per se…it feels like someone has hit you in the back of the head (hard) and your head is left tender to the touch. There are days when I cringe washing my hair or when I can’t even stand to have my head on a pillow. I’ve had to learn to be gentle with myself and rest when I need to (not always an easy thing for me to do).  I’ve learned to watch for signs that I’m not able to go on and remove myself from the situation. I’ve had days when I just sleep all day; or I can’t do much more than go from the bed to the couch. I’ve been taught “tricks” to get myself out of situations when my brain is on overload and I can’t handle any more. I’ve had speech therapy to work with me on what to do when my words fail me. I’ve had cognitive therapy to try and regain some of what I have lost.  I’ve had therapy to work on my embarrassment around these deficits, and to work on my acceptance of them. I hide a lot of what I’m going through on a daily basis, I fake a smile. I hide how I feel, more from some people than others. I hide it because I don’t want to be this girl! It’s ironic that I am a Special Education teacher and I teach my kids to embrace who they are, to stand up for their needs, to be proud…yet I hide so much of what I’m going through.  I have come so far in two years…but I still have so far to go and it’s a long, long, lonely road.

I never used to be like this.

You robbed me.

   I choose not to ride my road bike on this day.  The first year, I considered whether I should ride and celebrate that I could or whether I shouldn’t ride and tempt fate.  Ultimately, I have decided I do not want to push my luck. August 19th is a permanent rest day!
   I remember this date better than I remember my family members birth dates.  There is a lot I’ve forgotten over the past two years. My memory does not work the way it used to.  But I have not forgotten this day. I remember so clearly everything that happened. I remember the weather.  I remember it was our last group ride of the season. I remember we had all just received our new shop jerseys and were proud to sport them.  I remember telling my brother I didn’t like the route we were taking. I remember screaming at you to “stop!”, when I realized you were going to hit me.  I distinctly remember after the accident, laying in the ER, telling my brother that after a good night’s sleep I’d be back to riding. I was so naive. I miss that innocence I had back then.  The innocence that said, “I’m young! I’m healthy! I’ll be fine in no time!” But the truth is, I’m not fine. You robbed me. I’m navigating the scary, lonely world of a head injury thanks to you.  
    Tomorrow begins the start of year three post-accident.  A small part of me will continue to have hope that things will get better, but only a small part; after each passing month it gets harder and harder to have faith in such a thing.  In the spirit of having hope though, I hope you NEVER rob anyone again.

Sincerely,A Concussed Cyclist