Nifty

At the hospital where I went for rehabilitation, there was a social worker. I believe, at the time, I actually requested that I’d like to live by myself. I do remember it a little bit. I went in, and it was without my father. I said “I’m interested in getting a place of my own.” I was registered with a housing association and I got a flat.

It was on the third floor, which was too high for me with the stairs. The bathroom was communal. It was just big enough for a bath and a sink. When I look at it now I’m absolutely amazed, with the council not recognising my physical disabilities and then with me actually accepting that form of residence. But at the time I was so pleased that I had a little bit of independence for myself that I did take the offer. I didn’t fully look around and see if it was suitable for me, and my family didn’t know I had taken the flat until it had been placed upon me.

My first partner after the accident was a barman at the pub I used to go to with my father. We hit it off for a while and he came and stayed with me. But in many ways the relationship wasn’t really one hundred percent there, so to speak. Nothing was really fulfilling itself or blossoming. And what actually happened was I told my father and he came in one day to my flat and my partner was there. My father said “okay, you can get out now. Pack all your clothes.” I did ask my father to do that.

After I moved out of my parents’ place I came every Saturday or Sunday and had dinner with them and occasionally I would go out to the pub with my father to have a drink or whatever. I didn’t really have any individual friends myself.

While I was living in that flat I was burgled once, twice, three times. A disability advice service referred me to a different housing association and I was offered another flat. That was quite a good place because there were a couple of other people that also needed supported housing. I used to have a lady that came once a week to see that everything was okay; anything I needed. I’m still with the same housing association. I’ve moved now and it’s ‘normal’ residents, so to speak. We all have a communal garden. We are quite friendly and trustful to each other so it’s quite a nice atmosphere. And I’m on the first floor, which is better.

With my partner that I have now, John, I feel very comfortable and happy with him. We’ve been together for nearly twenty years.

In many ways John wishes me to become an independent woman, so to speak. At the same time, he likes doing things for me. In many ways, he likes to contribute as much as possible especially at the home situation. So I wouldn’t say it’s at a total balance, but when you look upon it sometimes it does place itself into a balance. He does most of the cooking and he does the ironing. He doesn’t wear an apron, thank goodness!

Haunted is the right word for people with brain injuries that have no memory of many decades. I used to go to places and nothing came back: no memory, no essence. Now, I’ve decided to shut that door.

After the accident my brother and sister brought me to the place I used to live, but I didn’t recognise it. I was a bit upset with myself cause I thought, ‘nothing shows anything. I don’t have any sense or any memories.’

I was just outside in the car, and I didn’t really want to go in, but they went into the flat and got a couple of my items. That must have been ten or fifteen years ago.

One of the dentists that I used to do work for before the accident invited me to spend the day at the surgery as a volunteer. The only thing I realised was to get the mirror and tweezers and lay them out in the plate but apart from that nothing else was still placed within me. It was totally blank, a totally new thing for me to do.

I didn’t truly want to admit within myself that nothing was there. I suppose I was a bit bewildered and intrigued myself that, alas, this is what it is now.

So what I feel is to leave that alone, shut that door. Because many times if you go back to what was, once upon a time, you will be haunted. You are not the same as you were before, so you are defying yourself a bit. I feel quite pleased with myself that I released myself from it. I thought, ‘good’.

It’s difficult for family and friends, because they go back to the past. Most of the friends I had before the accident, they have all disappeared. They are people I did once upon a time know but they find it hard to socialise with me because they have no idea of what they should say. They didn’t know how to talk to me. What to say to me.

One of the things that did hurt me was with an old friend, Joyce, who came to Canada with me. I went to Canada to be a nanny, in 1984 I believe it was. I stayed a year but, as with other things, I have no memory of it. I did see her with her family in a cafe and I did go and say hello, but then I decided not to sit at the same table with them. In many ways, there was no connection any more. I thought ‘it’s no longer as it was’.

Jenny was another good friend. We met at a dental surgery I used to work for and she was in reception. We did have quite a good relationship before the accident. We did see each other after I came out of hospital, but then after a while she couldn’t quite figure me out.

That was many, many years ago. It’s hard to say goodbye, but sometimes you do have to shut that door and open a new door and see what you shall find. This is now the future and this is what is placed.

What I’ve done with all the clothes, photographs, certificates from before the accident is I’ve put them in the store cupboard and placed them away. For example, I went to a family do and I wore a dress, and my sister actually told me, “That’s the dress you wore to my wedding”. That did hurt me a little bit cause I have no memory of her wedding. It did haunt me, so I got rid of the dress.

I used to do kickboxing and I was hoping that something would come up, but nothing did. So all the kit, like the gloves, I gave away to charity about seven or eight years ago. I thought, ‘that must have been quite a joyful adventure, but with me now, I cannot do that’. The only thing I kept was the mouthguard, cause I thought ‘that might come in handy one of these days!’

Many letters and photos have gone into the recycling bin. I didn’t feel happy doing it, but I thought, ‘it’s for the best’. With people who do have brain injuries, depression does come upon them sometimes. I wouldn’t say go into completely a new door but don’t be so haunted. With all these things that happened a long time ago, clear them away for a year or two years or three years until they’re a little bit more stable and realistic within themselves. And then, if need be, show them or place them round.

When it comes down to socialisation and communication, I think I have a normal balance on that aspect. I can associate nicely, I can say, “hi, my name’s blah blah blah”, I can get in and introduce myself and sort of like see that person nicely.

But I’m not a hundred percent clear on that pathway. I wouldn’t say I’m shy, but I don’t venture in so much. I can’t really get in to current events that are today and what was yesterday. I can’t have the full circle of it, I don’t know the true ins and outs of it. So I can’t get involved in it if I don’t know. If they talk about politics or sometimes health or whatever, it’s not always that easy for people with brain injuries to have a discussion or a debate.

I suppose in a small way I am a little bit frightened of meeting new people. I suppose I don’t know where it will lead because with the past I don’t have any clear pathways I can look at joyfully. I don’t have a clear perspective of it. It’s a difficult one.

I suppose with the friends I had, Joyce, all the rest of it, I don’t have that much confidence within myself.

I do tell people about the brain injury if need be. Not automatically, but if we both share the interest and we can both see on each side of the story. In many ways it is like exposing myself a little bit. Apart from those people I tell I have received a brain injury, I am in society treated as normal. It’s nice to be treated normally, of course, but then for a person that has received a brain injury, sometimes ‘normal’ is not a balance that can be placed upon you. You may look very good but you have still had that element stolen away from you.

I think people with brain injuries need guidance and help, and doing it themselves is good, but it’s nice if you have a friend or family or something like that that keeps tabs on things. John helps me a little bit. It’s nice to have a bit of feedback and praise on the chores so you’re not so alone. It has to be more of a team effort.

My sister Ella is quite good at giving you more of a sense of doing things for yourself, rather than for Tom Dick or Harry. She says, “come on, do it for your own individual self.” I see her once a month. She’s very positive and very futuristic, she likes to see what possibly can be placed out.

My sister Betty is going to be doing my hair on Sunday. Betty’s very nice, I like her very much. I get involved in family reunions and when my brother Martin comes to London he stays at my place. With my mother and father, things are settled nicely. They’re both retired and they’re taking it much easier. It’s nice having a bit of time to themselves.