I'm sitting in back of a conference right now, trying very hard to not cry my eyes out. As one who has recovered (as much as one is able) from TBI, this was taking my own experience and putting it into words I didn't have, as I am not a writer. Thank you for sharing this. I am glad you're doing better, and am so glad to see you improving. I hope you are able to find a comfortable place in yourself that allows you to continue sharing your brilliant brain with us.
I have been struggling with post-concussion syndrome since August 2023 when I tripped and fell at work, a likewise boring and undramatic fall that put me out of work for over half a year and I still have not recovered from despite being forced to go back to working when the workers comp ran out. Likewise my ability to access proper care was delayed and hampered by the bureaucracy and farce that is workers comp and the insurance industry's insistence that work injuries can't be treated with private insurance. I am still hoping to somehow recover. I, too, am a writer and avid reader, and a librarian, and losing the ability to read and write long-form has been likewise devastating to my identity. With no family to take me in, I have had to depend on friends here and there.
Your essay resonates with me like nothing else I have read since the accident about concussions. As another autistic woman with PCS, this has been my experience to a T. I hope your recovery continues and does not plateau like mine has. I have about a one-hour limit now for reading and writing, which is such a huge improvement over 2023 when I couldn't even decide whether to eat yogurt or crackers without severe pain. The physicality of thought was likewise surreal and something I reflect on a lot. Thank you so much for writing this.
I don't know if you mentioned it and I missed it or if you are specifically not mentioning it for legal reasons, but if you haven't made a claim against the owners' property insurance, I would encourage you to look into it. I had a coworker whose adult child basically had to sue her to get insurance to pay for medical expenses when her grandson fell on her property and experienced a TBI.
Kate, this was a phenomenal piece. I cracked a big smile at that line about you as a "Siegmund of socialism, singing my songs about the woe of it all." I'm very glad that we have you singing your songs, we need them. Like Tom said elsewhere here, the world is a little less lonely because of your work. Danke :)
Thanks for writing this. I was nodding along through every section of this, and was glad of the reminder to become a paid subscriber to your work, which I try to stop and read the moment it lands in my inbox. Sending a lot of solidarity your way throughout your recovery, and a ton of gratitude for this forthright, complex, moving, and important essay.
I hope you feel better soon and that you know that you and your work is appreciated, regardless of your ability to write or your health. I've enjoyed your writing for almost a decade now, and it's had a profound impact on how I use language and communicate. Wishing you the best!
This took my back to my own traum’d brain injury, which also forced me back to the quiet routine of my parents house. Very beautiful, very honest, very happy to hear you’re doing better.
The dreams stay vivid by the way, a thing I have no control over but which I feel a stubborn pride for.
This is just spectacularly beautiful. I wish you continued recovery while offering a fist bump of solidarity in the journey to de-couple the self from productivity. ❤️❤️❤️
Kate I’m so glad the article helped and that things are starting to get better. Thanks for sharing your experience with others too. Concussions are TRULY the worst and anything that makes it easier for people experiencing them to get help and feel seen is so valuable.
I really enjoyed this piece, Kate, and strongly related to it as others did. I suffered a TBI (epidural hematoma) in 2018 and very nearly died. I also returned (was on a music program in Italy) to live with my parents, where I remained in an utterly black depression that was underscored by the fact that I’d lost the ability to play violin. I also tried to work my way out of my injury, and fortunately my stubbornness did lead to me regaining my chops. Mostly, I went on long walks or lay on my hardwood floor listening to Schubert and crying. It was the most challenging period of my life by far, but years later and it’s strange to say that I’m grateful for what it taught me.
I also was at the Salonen concert, funny enough. it wasn’t just the concussion - I was tearing up too.
Thanks for writing this. One thing I’ve found is that TBI survivors have a special solidarity and ability to find each other. For their varied agonies, there bring unexpected consolations.
I'm so glad to hear from you! Your voice is comforting in these trying times. This was a fascinating read (your style is as stellar as always, in case you were wondering!), moving in many ways. It's good that you were able to rest- but I'm so sorry for the lack of care you suffered. It is truly frightening.
I didn't go through TBI, but I did have lymphoma (during COVID too, because what better time to lose your immune system, right?), and I came out of that brush with death with a significantly better understanding of myself and my place in this world. May you find that same kind of blessing buried within the trauma. Sending you a lot of love.
I'm a new reader of yours, Kate, and discovered this piece of yours by happenstance or possibly serendipity or maybe just plain dumb accidental luck, but whatever of those reasons a person prefers (and I pendulum between them), your descriptions - of what happened, what you went through, and the physical, mental, psychological and human and emotional reactions and consequences - all kind of snowballed as I was reading... and are simply percolating right now in the aftermath of a second reading. All of which is simply to say that (short version follows) I was and am both moved and astounded by what you went through, and deeply effing appreciative as well of what I'm only guessing you probably have also gone through to write it all down. So (even shorter version follows) ... THANK YOU. Seriously and really.
Some parts of what you went through and have gone through also resonated rather deeply with me, not because of my own experiences or memories, but because of ones that were told to me, maybe a decade ago, by someone who had been for a long time one of my closest friends, my former college roommate, a rather brilliant and sensitive and thoughtful thinker and writer and historian and jazz musician whose 'day job', over several decades, was being a member of the State Department's cultural foreign service. He was and had been one of those diplomats who lives in various foreign countries (his included Nigeria, Venezuela, South Africa and a few others) and helps 'foreign' artists, writers or musicians to make connections as well as bringing various musicians and writers from the U.S. on world tours. A real-life version of what used to be called a 'Renaissance Man'. After retiring, he traveled frequently to Africa (where some of his best friends and fellow jazz musicians were also people who had been imprisoned or persecuted for belonging to the ANC, etc) and at a certain point, without realizing it, he was infected by a mosquito bite with what turned into a near-fatal case of cerebral malaria. His Argentine wife had the presence of mind to get him rushed to a hospital after figuring out he was in a bad way, and after several intense touch-and-go weeks in intensive care, he survived and made a full recovery. For a time, at least; cerebral malaria as it turns out isn't something that easily or willingly goes away even after les médecins think it has, and it came back some years later with terminal consequences. But the part he talked to me a lot was and were his detailed, surreal, but to him entirely believable and realistic hallucinations, which lasted most of the time he was hospitalized. He remembered them in detail and told me some of them but wouldn't speak of others, insisting that they were simply things he couldn't bear to consciously revisit. Long story short, he went through a number of things which, in bygone times, probably would have branded him as an incurably crazy person and killed him in various ways - but which, being the articulate thinker and writer he had almost managed to be, were, as he told me, things that were terrifying and unforgettable but also led to moments, both during his immediate sickness and in the years following, to strange and unpredictable realizations.
And, ultimately, back to those truths about the importance of being with those one cares about and loves - and how tiny things like bird song can not merely fill up empty spaces but open windows and doors.
Sorry for the overly long digression, but your piece here has had (and may go on having) ripple effects for me - and trying to share a bit of those effects is the best way I can think of, right now, to simply say to you again my THANKS... and my real and delighted appreciation of how you put words together to communicate what you went through. ¡Mil y una gracias! and serious ones, too.
I'm so grateful to see myself in your words (your words are harder and sharper than I've let mine be, but so much more accurate). And — guessing here, if your TBI is anything like mine, that it was a mammoth effort to put this essay together. Your effort is appreciated and I hope it wasn't too painful for you in the doing of it.
I'm sitting in back of a conference right now, trying very hard to not cry my eyes out. As one who has recovered (as much as one is able) from TBI, this was taking my own experience and putting it into words I didn't have, as I am not a writer. Thank you for sharing this. I am glad you're doing better, and am so glad to see you improving. I hope you are able to find a comfortable place in yourself that allows you to continue sharing your brilliant brain with us.
I have been struggling with post-concussion syndrome since August 2023 when I tripped and fell at work, a likewise boring and undramatic fall that put me out of work for over half a year and I still have not recovered from despite being forced to go back to working when the workers comp ran out. Likewise my ability to access proper care was delayed and hampered by the bureaucracy and farce that is workers comp and the insurance industry's insistence that work injuries can't be treated with private insurance. I am still hoping to somehow recover. I, too, am a writer and avid reader, and a librarian, and losing the ability to read and write long-form has been likewise devastating to my identity. With no family to take me in, I have had to depend on friends here and there.
Your essay resonates with me like nothing else I have read since the accident about concussions. As another autistic woman with PCS, this has been my experience to a T. I hope your recovery continues and does not plateau like mine has. I have about a one-hour limit now for reading and writing, which is such a huge improvement over 2023 when I couldn't even decide whether to eat yogurt or crackers without severe pain. The physicality of thought was likewise surreal and something I reflect on a lot. Thank you so much for writing this.
I don't know if you mentioned it and I missed it or if you are specifically not mentioning it for legal reasons, but if you haven't made a claim against the owners' property insurance, I would encourage you to look into it. I had a coworker whose adult child basically had to sue her to get insurance to pay for medical expenses when her grandson fell on her property and experienced a TBI.
Kate, this was a phenomenal piece. I cracked a big smile at that line about you as a "Siegmund of socialism, singing my songs about the woe of it all." I'm very glad that we have you singing your songs, we need them. Like Tom said elsewhere here, the world is a little less lonely because of your work. Danke :)
Thanks for writing this. I was nodding along through every section of this, and was glad of the reminder to become a paid subscriber to your work, which I try to stop and read the moment it lands in my inbox. Sending a lot of solidarity your way throughout your recovery, and a ton of gratitude for this forthright, complex, moving, and important essay.
I hope you feel better soon and that you know that you and your work is appreciated, regardless of your ability to write or your health. I've enjoyed your writing for almost a decade now, and it's had a profound impact on how I use language and communicate. Wishing you the best!
Listen I’m sorry all that happened but it did inspire me to rewatch The Conversation so silver lining I’d say.
That’s a joke. Feel better, the world needs your brain.
Don't feel bad, I watched it right after Gene Hackmann died and was like: wow, relatable!
Is there any movie where the opening and closing shots are both top 5s?
This took my back to my own traum’d brain injury, which also forced me back to the quiet routine of my parents house. Very beautiful, very honest, very happy to hear you’re doing better.
The dreams stay vivid by the way, a thing I have no control over but which I feel a stubborn pride for.
This is just spectacularly beautiful. I wish you continued recovery while offering a fist bump of solidarity in the journey to de-couple the self from productivity. ❤️❤️❤️
Kate I’m so glad the article helped and that things are starting to get better. Thanks for sharing your experience with others too. Concussions are TRULY the worst and anything that makes it easier for people experiencing them to get help and feel seen is so valuable.
I really enjoyed this piece, Kate, and strongly related to it as others did. I suffered a TBI (epidural hematoma) in 2018 and very nearly died. I also returned (was on a music program in Italy) to live with my parents, where I remained in an utterly black depression that was underscored by the fact that I’d lost the ability to play violin. I also tried to work my way out of my injury, and fortunately my stubbornness did lead to me regaining my chops. Mostly, I went on long walks or lay on my hardwood floor listening to Schubert and crying. It was the most challenging period of my life by far, but years later and it’s strange to say that I’m grateful for what it taught me.
I also was at the Salonen concert, funny enough. it wasn’t just the concussion - I was tearing up too.
Thanks for writing this. One thing I’ve found is that TBI survivors have a special solidarity and ability to find each other. For their varied agonies, there bring unexpected consolations.
birding has brought me back from the brink more times than i can count. i’m convinced it can cure all physical and moral disease.
I'm so glad to hear from you! Your voice is comforting in these trying times. This was a fascinating read (your style is as stellar as always, in case you were wondering!), moving in many ways. It's good that you were able to rest- but I'm so sorry for the lack of care you suffered. It is truly frightening.
I didn't go through TBI, but I did have lymphoma (during COVID too, because what better time to lose your immune system, right?), and I came out of that brush with death with a significantly better understanding of myself and my place in this world. May you find that same kind of blessing buried within the trauma. Sending you a lot of love.
glad you are back! the world is lonelier without you!
I'm a new reader of yours, Kate, and discovered this piece of yours by happenstance or possibly serendipity or maybe just plain dumb accidental luck, but whatever of those reasons a person prefers (and I pendulum between them), your descriptions - of what happened, what you went through, and the physical, mental, psychological and human and emotional reactions and consequences - all kind of snowballed as I was reading... and are simply percolating right now in the aftermath of a second reading. All of which is simply to say that (short version follows) I was and am both moved and astounded by what you went through, and deeply effing appreciative as well of what I'm only guessing you probably have also gone through to write it all down. So (even shorter version follows) ... THANK YOU. Seriously and really.
Some parts of what you went through and have gone through also resonated rather deeply with me, not because of my own experiences or memories, but because of ones that were told to me, maybe a decade ago, by someone who had been for a long time one of my closest friends, my former college roommate, a rather brilliant and sensitive and thoughtful thinker and writer and historian and jazz musician whose 'day job', over several decades, was being a member of the State Department's cultural foreign service. He was and had been one of those diplomats who lives in various foreign countries (his included Nigeria, Venezuela, South Africa and a few others) and helps 'foreign' artists, writers or musicians to make connections as well as bringing various musicians and writers from the U.S. on world tours. A real-life version of what used to be called a 'Renaissance Man'. After retiring, he traveled frequently to Africa (where some of his best friends and fellow jazz musicians were also people who had been imprisoned or persecuted for belonging to the ANC, etc) and at a certain point, without realizing it, he was infected by a mosquito bite with what turned into a near-fatal case of cerebral malaria. His Argentine wife had the presence of mind to get him rushed to a hospital after figuring out he was in a bad way, and after several intense touch-and-go weeks in intensive care, he survived and made a full recovery. For a time, at least; cerebral malaria as it turns out isn't something that easily or willingly goes away even after les médecins think it has, and it came back some years later with terminal consequences. But the part he talked to me a lot was and were his detailed, surreal, but to him entirely believable and realistic hallucinations, which lasted most of the time he was hospitalized. He remembered them in detail and told me some of them but wouldn't speak of others, insisting that they were simply things he couldn't bear to consciously revisit. Long story short, he went through a number of things which, in bygone times, probably would have branded him as an incurably crazy person and killed him in various ways - but which, being the articulate thinker and writer he had almost managed to be, were, as he told me, things that were terrifying and unforgettable but also led to moments, both during his immediate sickness and in the years following, to strange and unpredictable realizations.
And, ultimately, back to those truths about the importance of being with those one cares about and loves - and how tiny things like bird song can not merely fill up empty spaces but open windows and doors.
Sorry for the overly long digression, but your piece here has had (and may go on having) ripple effects for me - and trying to share a bit of those effects is the best way I can think of, right now, to simply say to you again my THANKS... and my real and delighted appreciation of how you put words together to communicate what you went through. ¡Mil y una gracias! and serious ones, too.
Real.
I'm so grateful to see myself in your words (your words are harder and sharper than I've let mine be, but so much more accurate). And — guessing here, if your TBI is anything like mine, that it was a mammoth effort to put this essay together. Your effort is appreciated and I hope it wasn't too painful for you in the doing of it.