Two week update— reality check

This is the week that I had my surgical follow-up, and I started speech therapy.

I’ve been somewhat surprised by what I was capable of. It seems like my pain was fairly manageable. I had a really hard time relaxing and staying away from my toddler, but I didn’t feel like it was harmful to be in his company.

My surgical follow-up ( I know it is simply talking about the surgical process) went well.

Some questions were answered, and she said overall progress looks good. I was told that lifting restrictions are still likely going to be for six weeks but that it wasn’t an immediate return to activity that should be gradual. I should still be assisted if there is any pain or pressure. The return to work conversation seemed fairly casual, but I was gently encouraged to take the maximum time off that was possible.

Then there was speech therapy. This was something that I didn’t feel like I even needed. I was having both expressive and receptive aphasia. I also couldn’t fully open my jaw, and I was eating soft food. In my mind, this would all resolve with time. My therapist was very experienced. As I had the appointment and spoke with her, I realized how many deficits I truly had, and the list kept going and going.

She (less gently) told me that I should take the entire 12 weeks off. I should have full cognitive clarity and be at my physical baseline before considering returning to clinical work. In the healthcare system where I am, she pushed for me to be in a brain injury program.

We also spoke a lot about "brain breaks" and how my current behavior was delaying my recovery. While I thought I was getting a lot of help and that I was resting from time to time. I knew deep down. I wasn’t resting nearly enough, but I wasn’t sure what that would look like.

She gave me the structure that I really needed. I wish I had this earlier on in my recovery.

She stated that, at minimum, I would need a brain break every two hours and that I should set a timer.

During these breaks, I was not allowed to do chores, watch a screen, listen to an audiobook, paint, manage tasks, etc. I had to truly give time for my mind to rest. She said I didn’t need to take a nap, but I should close my eyes, turn the lights down low, and have as little stimulation as possible.

This felt impossible to me.

But after a lot of pushing and encouragement and research, I agreed that this was an important part of my recovery and would make me heal faster.

For me, the biggest challenge was to be able to step away from my toddler. He has been very emotional; I could tell he notices the lack of physicality and presence already. When I step away, he tells me to come back; when I try to sit down, he tells me to get up. He’s two years old. This is very normal.

In my mind, I needed to let myself have time in space and create that space in my routine. I also needed to teach myself how to relax; this was very hard and made me anxious.

So far, I’m still not there; my 10-minute breaks probably have one to two minutes of clear, low-stimulation relaxation. But I am taking time, and I am having quietness. I’m trying to utilize some comforting sensory stimulation like soft blankets, fidget toys, and very mild meditation. Right now this is all I can handle, but I’m trying to build a habit.

The alarm is essential.

I also met with my neurologist; he believes that all the high-dose medications I am on are significantly contributing to these residual deficits that I have, if not all of them. During this conversation, we made a plan to reduce two of the medications simultaneously, while keeping another one consistent. I was excited about this, but a little nervous.

As he discussed that he believed a lot of my symptoms were related to medication, I was taken aback when he suggested that I should definitely do the brain rehab.

He reminded me that it would take weeks to taper down on my medication, and no uncertain terms, he asked me if it was worth it to go back to work if I was not feeling stable or mentally sound. Even if these are medication-related, having support throughout the process seemed like the logical and safest thing to do.

I don’t know why, but this week hurt my ego. I felt like I was OK. I felt like I was gonna get through this and that I didn’t need extra support. I don't like thinking about myself as someone who has a brain injury.

Needing additional support also means that I need to ask for additional help; it means that I need additional rides, it means that I need additional child care, and this felt so overwhelming. It brought me a lot of frustration and sadness.

Unfortunately, I could not argue with the recommendation. So brain rehab, here I come.