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My Traumatic Brain Injury by Mitchell D. Miller Nobody expects a traumatic brain injury. My family, wife Jayne, and one year old daughter, Maxine, moved to Georgia, near Atlanta, in January 1986. In June, we purchased “Hilltop Farm,” a mile from the border of Forysth and Cherokee counties. We lived deeper in the woods, than most campgrounds. I went for a ride with “Mark” in his 1962 Plymouth Valiant on a tranquil afternoon. Mark wanted to play a game of pool and show me the “neighborhood.” We played pool at an illegal bar in dry Dawson County. Afterwards, Mark took a different route home, on Georgia Route 400. There was hardly any traffic. But one traffic light stopped us at Route 369. Alas, this traffic signal was broken. Tall weeds on the side of the road, also blocked our view of the passenger (right) side of Route 369. So we waited about a minute. But no cars passed in either direction, Mark said, “Well, I’m just going to step on it, OK?” I nodded. Two seconds later, a pickup truck, traveling over 50 miles per hour, hit the passenger door. I had time to see the Ford logo and say, “We’re gonna get hit.” Luck First of all, my open window helped me. I had a piece of metal stuck in my right forearm, but there was no broken glass. Mark’s antique car also had no seat belts, so I was able to move laterally. When the truck hit us, I was reclining with my right leg on the dashboard. My leg bent backwards – my toes touched my thigh. I also broke my left jaw against the steering wheel. Mark was also lucky. A “12–pack” cooler was on the seat between us. The cooler broke some of my ribs, but it protected Mark. And Mark was sober. He drank two light beers in three hours. Perfect Road Conditions for a Traumatic Brain Injury A broken traffic signal and poor road conditions caused this accident. Nobody can blame the State of Georgia, because they are protected by “sovereign immunity.” Mark’s car, squashed in half, was later displayed on a hill in Dawsonville, Georgia. None of the five people involved in the collision wore seat belts. The three people in the pickup truck died: a popular preacher, and his two daughters. Daddy and one daughter died at the scene. One daughter died a week later. Police charged Mark with vehicular manslaughter, because of the preacher’s popularity. A judge acquitted Mark after a brief trial. The preacher’s wife, and everyone she knew, filled the courtroom. Most spectators were sobbing and wailing. I did not testify. This faulty traffic signal caused over 50 accidents at the remote intersection of Routes 369 and 400. Crawling From The Wreckage An ambulance brought me to the local 37 bed hospital. My late, ex–wife, Jayne, was the anesthesiologist. A pediatrician met the ambulance. He moved me to an exam table and stared at my bloody clothes. I said, “Don’t worry, I’m too mean to die.” The pediatrician thought I was delirious. He shot me full of morphine, and almost killed me. Jayne was in the hospital when I arrived. She said I overdosed. Jayne saved my life with Narcan. Jayne arranged to have Bob, her favorite surgeon, meet us at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Atlanta. Jayne also arranged for a helicopter to pick us up. Incredibly, the helicopter got lost. Jayne said her favorite ambulance driver had just returned to the hospital. He drove me to St. Joe’s. Jayne said she used a rubber bag in the ambulance, to keep me breathing. Bob fixed my ruptured diaphragm, and sent me to the ICU. Jayne bought a foam mattress and slept beside my bed. Jayne and Bob saved my life. Waking Up Is Hard To Do I woke up five days later, with a tube down my throat and a dozen staples in my chest. My right leg was in a plastic bag. Jayne said, “I’m happy to speak to you. I’m pregnant. Our baby needs a Dad.” She handed me a pad and pencil, but I shook my head. I spent a few minutes coughing out the tube down my throat, so I could speak. Five days in a coma makes you hungry. I waved at Jayne, then pointed to the clock. It was “12:00.” I said “Lunch?” Jayne pointed to the window. She said it was dark outside, and it was midnight, not noon. It was difficult for me to understand the darkness part. Jayne repeated it several times, until I understood her. Jayne signed me out a week later, ”AMA“ – against medical advice. My first memory after we got home, is that I had to urinate. But I could not remember where a bathroom was located. I remember this, because it was my first memory problem. Later, I could not remember the contents of closets and drawers. When I turned on my computer, I had no idea what I was working on. I remembered Jayne and Maxine, but I felt like I entered someone else’s life. Jayne ordered a hospital bed, because I needed to recline at a 45 degree angle. Whenever I moved, the dozen staples in my chest, seemed to pull in a dozen different directions. My right leg had to be elevated, in its heavy plaster cast. The final touch was a wired jaw. I was on a liquid diet, trying not to yawn. I have TMJ, and it still hurts to yawn. Young and Restless When Jayne had to go back to work, she hired a licensed practical nurse to stay with me. I forget her name, but she unwittingly helped me recover faster. Nurse watched television a few feet from the hospital bed, where I was trying not to move or yawn. I was able to ignore her and the TV, except around noon, when she watched The Young and the Restless for an hour. Years later, I still cringe when I hear Nadia’s Theme. Nurse cried throughout the entire show. After the show, she would apologize for crying, then apologize for ignoring me for an hour. She lasted two weeks. In two weeks I felt stable enough on crutches to get to the kitchen and bathroom. In four weeks, I was driving to the next county. I drove to the nearest liquor store, with my left leg on the pedals and my plaster hip–to–ankle cast on the passenger seat. Drunken Games My routine was to buy a 1.75 liter bottle of vodka. It was the most that I could carry. I was so proud of myself, the first time I carried the heavy bottle, and hobbled along with one crutch. I sat in my downstairs office with my heavy and useless right leg elevated, while I played online games. Jayne brought me extra–long hospital straws to suck vodka out of the bottle, through my wired jaws, while I played games. Maxine lived on her Uncle Joe’s dairy farm for a few weeks. I avoided the kitchen, because I could not eat solid food. Compuserve, Genie, Starflight “You Guessed It!”, was a multiplayer trivia game on Compuserve. I played YGI so much, that I had to raise my Compuserve credit limit to $500 a month. I did not care, because Jayne bought us disability policies, a few months before my accident. John Weaver, Jr.’s version of backgammon, “RSCARDS” on Genie, also kept me busy. Jayne came downstairs once. She sat with me while I won a backgammon tournament. But I do not recall spending much time with Jayne. I also played Starflight. Starflight required a CD and a map. Starflight is the most complicated game I ever played. I needed the map to find planets to visit, and I typed in commands when I met aliens. I never figured out how to finish Starflight. Henry Jayne introduced me to Henry, after I played games for six months. Henry looked tough, because he lost an ear in a knife fight. He was an Alcoholics Anonymous Evangelist. Henry convinced me to check into a hospital in Marietta. In retrospect, it was odd, but I checked in on a Friday afternoon, after the “main staff” left for the weekend. I stayed in bed. Henry and his friends visited me, to remind me to stop drinking alcohol. Jayne checked me out on Sunday. Maxine came home the following day. I do not know if Jayne planned this, but it allowed me to spend three days in a private room of a hospital. I only remember seeing one staff physician — after I checked in. Maxine The following day began with a visit to the oral surgeon. He removed my wires early, so I could eat. Then Maxine’s Uncle Joe brought her home, and life resumed. We lived in a spacious house 3/4 mile off a public road, down our own unpaved road. We shared a 70 acre lot with a retired chicken farmer. There were no neighbors for a quarter mile, in any direction. I spent most of my days sitting on our large outdoor deck, shooting at an old water heater with a Colt .45. Jayne brought Maxine home after work. We enjoyed evenings on our spacious deck together, reading books to Maxine. Maxine received a great deal of attention. She began reading to us, a few months after my accident. But we worried about Maxine, because she enjoyed reading, but she rarely spoke. Programming Cures Depression My routine changed, after Jayne brought me to see an orthopedic surgeon. He told us that he could not fix my leg. He advised me to perform lots of leg raises, to increase stability. I wanted to do something useful after that depressing news, so I wrote a shareware program in BASIC. My “Backup Companion” program backed up recently edited files from a hard disk to a floppy disk. Jayne used it at work, to create a daily backup. Backup Companion received excellent reviews. It was “Program of the Month” on a popular shareware BBS. Happy users sent checks. Jayne taped the first $50 check to our refrigerator door. But Backup Companion needed more features. I decided to learn the “C” programming language, and use it to write something better. Learning To Walk Again Walking with a wobbly leg depressed me. Jayne was angry, because she despised incompetent physicians. Jayne always said 90% of physicians are incompetent. Thankfully, Jayne conducted some research, and found Dr. Fred L. Allman, Jr. in Atlanta.