Your traumatic brain injury does not define you

On January 4, 2008, I suffered a traumatic brain injury (TBI) that would alter the course of my entire life.

I was just three years old when I jumped on a sled, flew down my driveway and slid under a car that was parked at the bottom. The tailpipe of the car ripped my head open, plunging a three-inch piece of bone into my completely exposed brain.

Dr. Jason Hoover is a neurologist at Baylor Scott and White Texas Brain and Spine Institute. He was one of the doctors who helped save my life. 

“You had a major scalp laceration … Imagine your skull being broken in two, but it being completely 90 degrees to your head,” Dr. Hoover said. 

After I hit the car, I was immediately life-flighted to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, where I underwent two life-saving surgeries. After my surgeries, there was debate on whether I’d ever walk again. Less than two weeks later, I was up and moving around the hospital.

This is just one of the many examples of how, since my accident, I have persevered and not let anything stop me from doing what I wanted to do. I have spent the past 18 years living and loving every moment.

Brain injuries are a common occurrence in the United States. In children ages 0-14, there are about 37,000 hospitalizations per year, according to the Brain Injury Association of America. Of those 37,000 hospitalizations, there’s an average of 2,685 deaths due to head-related trauma.

I’m lucky I didn’t become a number in the latter statistic. But along with all of the headway I made, there have been struggles. Because of the accident, my left hand has very limited mobility. It’s made doing the simplest things much harder.  

On top of being physically affected, my TBI has caused me a lot of mental hardships.

Even today, I’m sometimes embarrassed by the look of my hand and the scar that stretches the whole length of my head and behind my right ear. 

But what I’ve come to learn is that although my TBI makes me a little different than most, it doesn’t mean I’m any less.

The TBI community is strong and there are resources and people out there looking to help. 

Regee Costanzo is the resource manager at Brain Northwest in Seattle, a nonprofit organization that focuses on the rehabilitation and education of TBI survivors and their families.

“We want to be a safe and welcoming resource for people to call and have their story heard and feel supported,” Costanzo said. “Our mission is to direct people to client-centered services and promote people’s ability to be empowered.”

Empowerment is important when it comes to the recovery process. You need to feel that you have the ability to get better and feel supported by those in similar situations. My time spent at Mayo was exactly this; I was supported through the good and the bad.

I remember there being a lot of dark times, but Dr. Hoover seemed to remember it a little differently. 

“There were days that you would smile, and that was one thing that brought such joy to our whole team because when you would smile, it was the heart of a child,” Dr. Hoover said. “To see you go through such a tragedy but to be smiling through it all … it really put things in perspective for us as surgeons.” 

At this point, I’d even say I’m thankful it happened. I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am without it. I’m stronger, braver and more determined because of it.

I’ve never let my TBI stop me from doing what I want to do. I hope that other people can learn to embrace their TBI the way I have worked so hard to do myself. This mindset has come from a lot of false positivity and a “fake it till you make it” attitude. I’ve learned that to get past the insecurities that I have surrounding my injury, I just have to pretend that there is simply nothing to notice.  

My TBI doesn’t define me; it only makes me more me.

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