Rochelle suffered major head trauma and had plastic surgery to repair part of her face and head. She has a hard time pronouncing certain sounds in words and retaining and understanding information.
When I was thrown I 'cartwheeled' resulting in TRBPI, Basilar Skull fracture with traumatic brain injury, and a right Femur fracture. The doctors made it very clear that I would not have lived had I been awake at the time of the crash.
My BPI was not noticed until I had woken up a week later.
They told my mom that my arm would be 'flail' for the rest of my life and that I would never be able to walk right or run at all. BOY WERE THEY WRONG!
Once I was stable enough, I was transferred back to my home state of Washington by train with my doctor and his wife and admitted into Seattle children's hospital.
After ALOT of testing and therapy I was able to be released about 6 weeks later. The cast came off during that time and I had daily physical therapy in the hospitals pool. I WALKED OUT OF THAT HOSPITAL ON MY OWN TWO FEET* My leg hurt and I walked with a limp, but the fact is I WALKED! Something 'they' said would never happen without the help of a walker or something else. My arm took longer.. I was watched like a hawk as I had zero movement or feeling. I could set my hand on a hot burner or break it and not feel a thing. After about a year of physical therapy I was able to weakly move my hand from laid flat to a fist and was able to 'pinch' and grasp different size objects. I should also mention that I have never had surgery.
I did well until the 'school years' came... that's when I realized not everyone has an arm like this and how cruel other children (and adults) can be. I was called names and humiliated by the fact that my physical therapist came right to my classroom to pull me out for a session. I was very aware of the fact that my right arm was shorter and looked very different from my left. I began wearing big sweatshirts with the sleeve pulled over my hand trying to make my elbow, wrist, and lack of muscle less noticeable to the other children I was trying so desperately to fit in with.
At the age of seven my hands were tied behind my back by a group of kids in my neighborhood, I was forced onto a bicycle and rolled down a hill... THAT WAS THE DAY.
The day that I was fed up with trying to be this thing that everyone else considers normal. Fed up with everyone putting limits and boundaries on what I should and shouldn't be doing with my arm. Tired of being treated differently by my teachers. Tired of being held back from the things I wanted to do or try because EVERYONE ELSE thought it would be to much disappointment for me if I didn't succeed. Tired of not being able to paint my nails or play with my hair. I was just fed up. I decided that day that I wasn't going to sit there and take anything from anyone anymore. At night I started staying up a little while and trying to play with my hair. The issue was that I couldn't (and still cant) raise my arm but a few inches, but I could bend at the elbow and grasp so I thought "if I just had something to hold my arm up, I could do this'' so I would go in the bathroom and get on my knees, lift my BP arm with my good arm so my elbow rested on the counter and attempt to do my hair in a ponytail. No.. it didn't happen right away. No... my hair didn't look fresh from the salon when I finally got it. No... it was not easy trying to figure out just how to do this. After I became pretty good at it I realized it would be ALOT easier and wouldn't take so many try's to make it look ok or the way I wanted it if I could see in the mirror while I did it. I had a full length mirror I pulled out and instead of doing it in the bathroom I just sat on my bedroom floor in front of the mirror and instead of using the counter top to rest my arm on I used my knee. I practiced and practiced and eventually learned how to balance my BP arm and began doing my own hair for school and such. As the years have gone by I have slowly adapted to knew ways of doing different styles, the only thing I have found I cannot do (yet) is a braid down the back, but I can do one over my shoulder
. I have adapted and found my own way of doing things to suit ME. I may look funny to others when I use 'my way' but the fact is IM DOING IT! against what others thought and its something to be proud of.
I am now 27 years old with a husband, step kids, dogs and home of my own that I take care of. There are days that I struggle with frustrations and emotions. There are times I need assistance with things. There are days I have severe pain. But I've never lost hope or my dreams. They belong solely to me and I am the only one who can make it happen. Please don't ever lose hope or faith that there is a better brighter tomorrow waiting just around the corner to surprise you. Celebrate even the smallest victory, You ARE worth it! Don't ever be afraid to fail, be afraid of never trying.
ALL MY LOVE TO YOU and YOURS <3
- Seka
TRBPI since 4 years old