Confessions of a Concussed Cyclist: 11 years

August 19, 2025

Eleven years ago, a driver decided to not share the road with me.  A driver decided her time was more important than my safety, my well-being, my life.  Eleven years ago traumatic brain injury entered the room and never left.  A TBI comes in uninvited. It does not care who you are or what you’re going through.

On July 23rd of this year, I had surgery at the base of my neck.  Immediately I realized it was going to be a very uncomfortable recovery.  The recovery became even more uncomfortable as fevers developed and a lot of fluid began collecting around the incision.  Through this discomfort, my TBI remained.  I was healing from surgery and dealing with my typical daily TBI challenges.  Made even more challenging because sleeping with a neck incision was quite difficult and functioning with a TBI and lack of sleep is a special kind of awful.

On August 7th it was decided that a post-surgical drain needed to be placed to remove the fluid and give my incision a better chance at healing.  On August 11th the drain was placed and a whole new level of discomfort began.  But you know what remained?  My brain injury.  

On August 16th my drain was accidentally pulled.  It immediately hurt and then a burning sensation began.  I was at my breaking point.  I hadn’t slept well in weeks at this point.  I am not comfortable.  My beloved, necessary, routine is off.  I can’t just shower or just wash my hair as normal, because the drain site must remain dry. I can’t sleep in my normal position. I have lifting restrictions. Everything is more complicated.  I was losing my patience and my stamina to deal with it all.  My mother and I went to my local ED to get the drain checked. My TBI tagged along for the trip. A long day, made even longer. 

On August 17th I slipped and fell.  My drain felt okay (unlike the day before) but I began having more complications with it.  And to add to my discomfort I was cut, scraped, and bruised from my fall.  But my TBI remained.  I had to laugh at this point thinking “oh sure…I said last night I was at my breaking point, so you threw more things at me.  How cruel!”  It made me think about how whenever I am asked on a scale of 1-10 how bad my head hurts, I never go above a 7 because it can always be worse.  I was at my breaking point and it got worse. That night as I bent over the tub to wash my hair and my mother observed to make sure the drain stayed dried I said to her “it’s not like I’m dealing with this surgery and this drain and that’s it.  No!  I still have a head injury to deal with.  And an ‘anniversary’ (1. I hate calling it that and 2. This day is hard!) coming up.  It never stops!” 

On August 18th I had to return to my surgical hospital to have my drain repositioned and fixed up.  Another busy day.  Another day of no rest, no quiet, no routine. 

Today, August 19th, I am beyond exhausted after 26 days of very poor sleep.  I am frustrated that I can’t be alone today and disappear as I prefer to because I have to work, I have an appointment , and I need my drain checked and flushed and I need it inspected before and after I shower.  I am uncomfortable.  But you know what remains?  My traumatic brain injury.  It doesn’t leave because I have other things going on.  It doesn’t let up because I’m at my breaking point.  It doesn’t lessen in intensity because I’m uncomfortable.  It doesn’t turn off because I’m tired. It doesn’t end when other things in life happen. So after work and my appointment, and before my drain checks, my rattled brain and I will get some sushi and go sit by the water to just breathe. To just be for a minute. 

It is always there. 4,015 days of living this life.