When Justice Fails the Children, Kristy's Story by Debra Sanders

PART VII

PLEASE CHECK BACK SOON. PART VII WILL BE POSTED SHORTLY. THANKS, DS

Opportunities Abound

Hey out there in blogger land! I hope the day finds each of you rested and feeling optimistic about life and your place in it.

Funny thing about optimism...just when discouragement seems at its peak, the Universe seems to provide doors to walk through and opportunities to explore. In my case, a job possibility has just presented itself and I am amazed by the range of emotions I have been feeling for the past two days.

The job is as an intervention specialist--part-time-- with children three to five years old--assessing and setting up programs for troubled kids and working with their HeadStart teachers and parents in carrying out the programs both at home and in school. At least, this is what I understand the job to be. If so, it is a job that feels like I was born to do. It would combine all my skills, my experience, my joy in working with young children, teachers and parents...really, it would be perfect.

If I can do it. Not to mention, of course, that I would have to be hired first.

But assuming I did get hired, the question is, can I be a reliable employee and be where I need to be on the days I need to be there--will my brain manage learning all the new information required of starting any new job? Will I be able to compensate enough to be effective?

These are huge questions for me and the thought of trying to go back to work is both exhilarating and terrifying.

It has been interesting to me to observe my own reactions over the last two days, since I first learned of the opening. I feel a sense of optimism...of hope and of excitement that has long, long been missing from my life.

Here are the two dilemmas I perceive:

1. Am I being unrealistic? Is this an indication that I truly have not accepted this head injury and all its limitations, accepted the "new me," come to terms with no longer being a professional.....or in fact, is this a wise next step? Maybe this time around, with as much insight as I have gained into my strengths and my disabilities/inabilities, I could enter into a part time position knowing what accommodations and modifications are needed to help me maximize my strengths (like not working midweek, but rather setting up a schedule where I work on M, T, Th, F).

2. The treatments. Let's say I were to apply for and obtain this job...should I risk starting the brain treatments again? They could, of course, help me be successful. On the other hand, it seems like I am just leveling out from the incredible backward slide I took and do I want to risk those headaches or the need to shut down and sleep when I am just starting a new job??????

One thing I know for SURE is that I have never been able to get behind the self marketing and promoting of Panache that I need to do for it to become the kind of financial success that would allow me to be financially independent. I am burned out on the internet, burned out on the self hype gurus and their classes and burned out on the bonus programs, social networking and launch programs required in the online marketing of oneself and one's book. I feel an excitement at the thought of this job that I simply cannot generate from the idea of promoting the book.

I am proud of Panache. I think it is well written and it required hard, hard work on my part. I love the emails I continually get from people who have stumbled upon it and for whom it has helped. But I want to give away all my copies to the people who want to read it. I just can't get into the whole business end of self promotion. It's why I haven't reached my marketing goals yet...I just cannot seem to aggressively sell myself. I swear, I must be the only writer on the planet who does NOT want to be on Oprah.

I could champion for children with an assertiveness and aggressiveness that would make Bill Gates seem like a passive recipient in life...yet for the life of me, I cannot do the same for myself.

Interestingly, I feel like if I could get this job part time, I would have more confidence and excitement to pursue marketing and promoting the book a little more.

What do all of you out there think?

Are there even any of you out there???

I will keep you posted and in the meantime, be safe and please wear your helmet when biking and skating.

Sooooo... my concept of a day is a little skewed...

Hi readers. Are there actually any readers out there or am I blogging to myself? No matter, except that if there are readers, I do extend more apologies for my delay in writing (A-gain!!). Sigh. Seems I have done a lot of apologizing lately.

So, back to the topic at hand. Bottom line is that for a brief period in time, I had the old me back. Getting through a day did not seem such a challenge and I did not have to fight for feelings of competency every moment. And then all went belly up. Not everything went belly up...my dreams are still more vivid and lucid, as they became during the treatments and in some ways, on a daily basis I feel more "present," although I no longer remember the moments, the hours or the days as having been real. It's hard to explain that one.

On the other hand, I seem less capable of managing myself than before the treatment --as if I stepped backward in time instead of forward. I seem more prone to depression and overwhelm, more sensitive and emotional and more discouraged and less hopeful about my future. And my hormones seem to have gone totally whacky and are not abating one bit. Very strange.

On the other hand, the headaches have dissipated. And that in and of itself, is a blessing because they were wicked.

Here's the dilemma:

I am being offered the opportunity to try the treatments again, under closer (daily) supervision and instead of starting with 45 min. a day at full capacity, start at half capacity every other day for 15 minutes. This time around we would develop a specific chart so I can document things specifically, and we would move slowly.

What would you do if it were you? Stay the course now and hope to get back to where I was(you were)before the treatments ever started, or.... try the treatments in a more controlled fashion and see if I can(you could) regain what happened in those first five days?

This whole thing has been devastating and a huge interruption to what acceptance and calmness I had obtained and grown into....on the other hand, as I said, it did prove all those neuro connections have been dormant, not dead.

So....what would you do if you were me?

Be safe out there.

Debra

PS weird facts for the day:

- Scientists claim that goldfish have a memory span of just three seconds. Does this mean I am no longer smarter than a goldfish? And just how do scientists test the memory span of a goldfish, anyway????


- It is estimated that a snail can sleep for 3 years. Well, I estimate that I can sleep for more than that if I don't take my Adderall. Does this mean I am slower than a snail and dumber than a goldfish now?

- An ostrich's brain is smaller than its eye. My brother says when it comes to finances, I have stuck my head in the sand.......

I better stop here. These weird facts are somehow coming around to haunt me! LOL

Is it better to have had it for awhile than never to have had it at all?

I know on my last post of April 3, I said I had much to tell and would be writing about it all very soon. Given that it is now the 22nd of May, I realize I better have a pretty good reason for my absence if I want to gain my readers back. Actually, in a lot of ways I do but in some ways, I realize that I should have, and probably could have, been writing all along.

Lest I write a mini novel, let me simply say this: it has been a trying couple of months. For all those out there with head injuries, you will know exactly what I mean when I say that I have been feeling utterly exhausted by the constant vigilance, weary of the cotton batting that takes up so much space in my head;frustrated beyond description with the constant challenge of simple things being difficult and simply...worn out with and by the struggles. Not to sound whiny or pathetic or anything...but really, this is where I have been residing in my absence. Surely I didn't need to expose you to all that sniveling!

For all of you out there who live with and/or love someone with a brain injury, trust me when I say that no matter how empathetic you might be (and I know for a fact that so many of you are), it is impossible for you to know the absolute depth of devastation and loss that is experienced by anyone who once was in possession of a well oiled and reasonably intact working machine that now functions like a rusty, ill-functioning, undependable and unreliable imitation. Think, giving up your new laptop for the first desktop computer you ever used.

When I last wrote on April 3rd it was with the excitement of an unbelievable experience that I absolutely could not wait to share. In fact, I was in such a state of bliss that I had just about committed myself to doing whatever it would take to create a nonprofit that would ensure that every single individual with a mild/moderate head injury had access to what I was experiencing. What was it?

I had my old brain back. For five remarkable, incredible, indescribable days...I was the me I used to be. It was an experience almost impossible to put into words...one that had me thinking about each of you and how I could get you access to what I was experiencing. I don't know if I have ever felt such pure joy and such complete gratitude to the ones making this experience possible for me as I was feeling when I last posted on here. I felt, truly, as if I had been given my life back.

Under the guidance of medical and professional people,I underwent daily treatments--cortical electrical stimulation treatments, 45 minutes a day.What transpired was simply surreal, and the effects were not just my wishful, hopeful thinking. The changes in me were noticeable by people close to me who did not know what I was doing; who I hadn't told of my decision to undergo the treatments. It was in fact, immediately noticed by my dog, Teek...and that is a story in itself, but one I will save for another time. Just trust that he knew something had shifted and that I was the me of "old."

Almost immediately after the initial treatment and certainly after the second one,it was as if the chaos and the chatter in my head was suddenly gone...had just disappeared. Sensations and sensory awareness were present that I hadn't even realized had been missing until they suddenly returned(like, for example, my appestat registering fullness--something I didn't even know wasn't happening until suddenly it was happening).

And then, just as quickly as the dendrites and neurons fired up and showed us they had been dormant, not destroyed...they stopped firing and connecting. At 11:30p.m. on night five, the headache set in and when I woke up the next morning it was as if I was the me-not that I had been the week before treatment began--but the me of those first few months post accident.

I have never felt such devastation or despair as in those next couple of weeks of battling the return of those white hot headaches and the need to sleep 18, 20 hours a day. Frankly, folks...it was touch and go there for a little bit.I mean, I had been feeling so REAL. I had been feeling so PRESENT in the moment, so clear and calm and....capable.

And then, just like Charly in Flowers for Algernon, I was horrifyingly aware that it was but a brief reprieve. For those of you not old enough to remember (or too old to remember), Flowers for Algernon is a play about a man with cognitive impairment--mental retardation--who was given experimental treatment and who become a genius, only to have the treatments stop working, leaving him aware that he was returning to his prior, impaired self.

My journal throughout those days is a bit heartbreaking, ending one day with the question and musing, "I wonder...did the velveteen rabbit stay real? I can't remember. I will have to go back and read the story to find out."

Charly and the velveteen rabbit came up frequently in my journal over the last couple of months.

Because I don't want to write a book in one posting, I am going to close here. I don't want to leave you with my angst and despair,however, so let me close by saying that this is a journey, like all of it is a journey and I am not residing in that bleak place of despondency that initially set in. Tune in tomorrow and I will tell you more of this story and more about where it has taken me. And when I am through, I have a few questions I would like to toss out to all or any of you out there, and I hope you will write in your thoughts and your responses.

Until then...be safe out there and wear your helmets if you are skating and riding your bikes. In fact, wear your helmets if you are just stepping in the shower. A little caution is not a bad thing....you know what I mean?

Okay, maybe not in the shower.

Remember to treat yourself and others with grace and patience...until tomorrow (for real this time!),

Debra

PS weird fact for today: A cockroach can live several weeks with its head cut off - it dies from starvation. hmm....O-kayyyy.

WHICH ONE FOR YOUTUBE by Debra Sanders

I have a great deal of interesting and exciting news to blog about, and before the day is over, I will do exactly that; but for right now I am trying to figure out how to load five Animotos for you to watch. They are all short--they range from 30 seconds to 2 minutes.

If you could take a little time, I would love to know which you like, which you don't, which you think should go on YouTube (one, some or all of them), etc. This of course, is assuming I figure out how to upload them because it isn't happening by hitting the video icon and saying upload. Hmmmm........

Thanks! And check back very soon for the big news. I mean, it is BIG news, folks!

Until then, happy video watching,

Debra

Natasha Richardson, RTIR, Dings, Bell-Ringers ,untimely deaths and pure facts by Debra Sanders

It's amazing. I have been running ads in The Radio and Television Interview Report (RTIR) since September, and let me tell you, these are not cheap ads. RTIR is one of the mainstays of the radio and television talk show industry—every month it contains almost a hundred pages of tabloid type ads, all clamoring for the attention of talk show hosts ranging from the likes of the guy running the little radio station up the road, to those in charge of finding guests for Good Morning America and Oprah.

I could have chosen any number of marketing angles when it came to issues brought up in A Matter of Panache: special education, traumatic brain injuries, public education, the choice to endorse or reject mediocrity; even, the decisions and choices we make in the name of friendship. I opted for none of these, but rather my ads have been focusing on a small subset of head injuries: concussions. Why? (Besides the fact that my own under-treated concussion has cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost income, my previously active lifestyle and a good percentage of any feelings of competence in the last six years). Why? Because the statistics surrounding concussions are staggering and they receive very little attention. Surprisingly little attention.

Anyone out there want to guess how many radio stations have called me over the past five months, wanting to set up interviews?

If you said zero, take a bow. You are correct. Zero. Not one radio station thought the topic worthy of booking a guest—despite the fact that every day there is the need for 10,000 talk show guests. Ten thousand guests needed--every day! Can you believe that? (This demand perhaps explains the thinking behind booking some of the guests we have all heard interviewed here and there over the years, don’t you think?)

But,sticking to my topic-the answer is, I repeat: no calls. Not even so much as an email request asking me to be a guest on somebody’s show. This, despite the fact that March is Brain Injury Awareness Month!

That is, I had no calls until today.

My phone started ringing at 6:00 this morning and it has not stopped ringing since. I am betting it will ring again tomorrow. Producers of radio shows in Montreal, British Columbia, Wisconsin, California, Minnesota and God knows where else have called wanting to have me on their show. Why? Well, because a young, beautiful and very talented woman died after a seemingly innocent fall on a beginners ski slope. And when movie and stage stars die unexpectedly, people take notice and suddenly their cause of death is sexy enough to garner attention.

I am sick over the death of Natasha Richardson. Not because I loved her as an actress—frankly, I am not sure I have ever seen anything she has been in—but because she is 45 years old and the mother of two boys, age 10 and 12. And because, although you probably won’t hear this, what happened is not all that uncommon. My guess is, you will hear this referred to as some sort of fluke, a gross anomaly,a freak accident. You will hear it referred to as anything other than the truth in order to explain how a fit, vibrant woman could have possibly died from such an innocent little fall in the snow.

Well, let me give all of my readers out there some shocking information (all six of you, LOL):

• Every year falls are the leading cause of traumatic brain injuries, with consistent reporting indicating that roughly 85% of concussions go undiagnosed.

• Nationwide, 300,000 sports and recreation-related concussions are reported every year, but the estimate is that nearly seven times that number is closer to the number of concussions that are actually sustained.

• Most people think a helmet will prevent a concussion, yet football, ice and field hockey, soccer, lacrosse, softball and wrestling all require helmets—and the rate of concussions in these contact sports is high.

• Loss of consciousness is rarely a symptom present in sports concussions and brief loss of consciousness does not correlate to the severity of the injury—still, when players sustain star-causing “dings” and “bell ringers,” they are allowed to continue playing since they appear to be “okay.”

• One in five high school athletes suffer concussions (that’s the reported number). Surprisingly, people seem to think that because teens own youth, they recover more quickly. In fact, children and teens are far, far more vulnerable to the ramifications of concussions. They suffer many more of them and their brains and nervous systems take longer (not less time) to recover.

• Second-impact syndrome—that is, sustaining another hit to the brain within a year, can cause irreversible brain damage—or death.

• At least two young athletes in our nation die each year as the result of a sport-related concussion. Just like Natasha Richardson died. The only difference is their deaths do not bring attention to the issue.

I could go on and on (and on and on) about this subject, because I can tell you from personal experience that there is no such thing as a “mild” head injury…that I was told, “it’s just a concussion. You’ll be fine in a couple of days,” and because the six year anniversary of that day is coming up in two weeks and I am still very much not fine.

Natasha Richardson was a young, beautiful, talented woman who has now left two pre-teen boys without a mother. I don’t care how rich, how famous, how pampered a person is, no amount of money can replace a mother to two young boys.

Here’s but one of my many questions: When the paramedics came to intervene and they were told to go away because Natasha said she was “fine,” why did they go? I said I was fine too—I walked away from my rolled truck and insisted I was fine. The paramedics at my accident scene did not however, turn and walk away; rather, they insisted on taking me—in an ambulance—to the hospital. They may have miscalled the severity and duration of the effects, but there is no doubt they knew enough about concussions to know that more often than not (for reasons I can explain in another post), people often feel okay the first hour or two following a concussion. It’s after that time period that the headaches, nausea, dizziness, blurred vision and foggy thinking start to emerge. And one would think that paramedics and hospital personnel are aware that concussions rarely show up on CT scans or MRIs (the reasons for which I can also explain in another post), but that does not mean serious damage has not occurred.

Anyone…I mean, anyone and everyone who sustains a jolt to the head (note that I said jolt, not crack or bump to the skull) needs to be carefully watched for a minimum of twenty-four hours, with the absolute understanding that slow bleeds which cause swelling, can cause death if not treated. The subdural hematoma that killed Natasha Richardson was easily enough treated had it been caught. Physicians treat it all the time—they open up the skull and make room for the swelling, and rarely does the injury become fatal. Left untreated however,the outcome is nearly always tragic.

I urge all of you out there to at least make Natasha Richardson’s death matter to more than her two little boys and husband. Start learning about concussions. Learn the truth about concussions and learn what to do when you or someone you know sustains a “ding.” Don’t cheer the athlete who shakes his head to clear the stars and then goes back onto the field. Why on earth would we ever cheer such foolishness?

Keep checking on my blog. I promise you there will not be two or three weeks between posts when it comes to this subject. Next: Signs and symptoms. After that: treatment and interventions.

This is a topic that deserves not one, but many posts.

Oh, and turn on your radios. As of today, I am booked on…let’s see…I think it was five shows, last count. Or maybe it was six.

And one more thing...by Debra Sanders

Did you know that on average, 100 people choke to death on ballpoint pens every year?

And for those still waiting to hear about Mexico...honest, details are coming (and the checks in the mail!)

My Best as Always,

Debra

A Matter of Panache

I found this funny quote today:

[  I am sure I have full-blown and severe Social Networking Introverted Personality Dysfuncion and Anxiety Disorder--SNIPDAD. ]

You should read the whole article. Especially if you think you or someone you know is suffering from a simiilar disorder.

Internet Anxiety Disorders and Hypochondriasis by Debra Sanders

Two of the classes that were both the most fun and the most frustrating to teach were Psych 101 and Intro to Abnormal Personality Disorders. Not because you have to present and integrate, a hundred aspects and years of psychology in one short semester, but because the people who take these classes as their electives, or worse because they are majoring in psychology, are inevitably interested in them. And that means that sooner or later they would come to me sure they were afflicted with a variety of psych disorders—or their brothers/sisters/mothers/fathers /uncles/aunts and/or grandparents were; and they wanted to share (AKA process) their story.

That’s great. I love people’s stories. I do. It’s just that I always taught the 7pm-10pm block and it could wear a bit thin when there would be four students self-diagnosed with schizoid disorders, six with bipolar disorder and a minimum of twelve who were certain they had been reared in families whose members were beset with variations of paranoid, histrionic or obsessive-compulsive disorders—all standing in line, anxiety ridden, because they just had to ask one more question before I left for the night.

But I now realize that I should have never dissed my students; even if it is true, I only rolled my eyes privately in my mind.

WHY?

Because having thrown myself full-throttle into the marketing and promotion of having written a book, I am now a full-blown self-diagnosed Intro to Social Networking Hypochondriac. I have, I am quite sure, Social Networking Introverted Personality Dysfunction and Anxiety Disorder.

Better known as S.N.I.P.D.A.D.

SNIP DAD can be mighty debilitating and although it is not yet listed in the DSM-V, I am sure it exists. It is definitely a spectrum disorder and I am clearly falling at the severe end of the spectrum. Just listen to my list of symptoms:

1.Anxiety leading into rapid heart palpitations over not accepting somebody I don’t know as a friend because, how am I going to get connected if I keep saying no??? This is complicated by equal angst over accepting someone as a friend because what if they are a wacky weirdo?? I have a history of magnetically attracting WWs. I need to use cautious judgment about these things. But even without this stress, my judgment has been questionable since April, 2003.

2. Nightmares about getting my networks mixed up and putting a news post on Facebook and Twittering on Digg; lost in Squidoo because I thought I was on Flickr. This is causing increasing anxiety and irritability which is significantly interfering with my ability to be nice. To anyone.

3.Increasingly intense headaches as I try to understand how to manage the nine million little messages and notes and posts and nudges and elbows and pokes that surface each day on the various sites. I know I am supposed to be networking, connecting, promoting and reciprocating but good god almighty, where are people finding the time to DO this???????

4. Overwhelm leading to hyperventilation in regards to blogs. Apparently if I want people to see my blog I need to be on theirs, commenting (intelligently). I don’t even manage to make it to my blog, never mind comment (intelligently) on it. How on earth am I going to make the rounds on everybody else's?

5. Night sweats and stomach cramps when I hear the term: virtual book tours.VBTs. It sounds like a disease, doesn’t it? ("I've had the VBTs all morning and feel nauseous and faint.") In a moment of impulsive spending I downloaded an ebook for authors on how to conduct VBTs and in the early stages of my disquietude and distress, I trash-canned it before I even finished reading page 3...leading to increased apprehension over financial matters.

6.Severe attention deficits and profound memory impairment when I try to remember that I have set up profiles on libraryreads.com, goodreads.com, the redroom.com, author101,com, shelfari.com, amazon.com (of course), weread.com, bookhitch.com, novelread.com,writerscafe.com and booklicker.com. To name but a few.

7. Explosive cursing episodes when "friends" urge me to sign up and be active in multiple groups on StumbleUpon and LinkedIn.

8.HIVES(!) each time I try to master book-trailer-making so I can post on Animoto.com, YouTube and MetaCafe.

And OMG, BlogRadio!

9. Every time I try to figure out BlogRadio--and is that different from BlogTalkRadio?--I find myself roaming the kitchen and grazing on every possible food distraction I can find.

I have a head injury—yes— but I can tell you with certainty, that even if I didn’t, I would be subject to the hives, sweats, heart palpitations, headaches, sleeplessness, nightmares, increased appetite due to procrastination and frustration, irritability, attention deficits, disorganization, explosive cursing episodes, need for instant gratification, alcohol abuse (my wine consumption has definitely increased!), angry outbursts, frequent mood swings and anxiety brought on by SNIP DAD!

Surely this is not ALL due to my head injury!?!?!?

I would like to know if anyone else out there is suffering from, or knows an aunt/uncle/brother/sister (etc) who is suffering from, this debilitating disorder. If so, how is it being treated? Drugs? Meditation? Brain cell implants? Imposed power outages? A twelve step program( SNIPDADs anonymous?)?

Please write. I would love to know.

My Best,
Debra

P.S. I solemnly swear that if I ever teach university classes again, I will never, ever, EVER minimize my student’s self-diagnosed proclamations. Those same kids are the ones who will inevitably show me how to master this cyberworld thing. Or commit me for treatment.

Weird Facts, Selling Oneself and Speaking in Mexico, by Debra Sanders

I know all my blog fans (all six of you!) have been chomping at the bit to know how my debut in Denver turned out. I apologize for keeping you all on edge, but as most of you know, I had to be in Mexico for eight days for my debut in the workshop world. Yep, that's right. I was scheduled to be a workshop presenter for the first time since the accident. At the Fourth Annual San Miguel de Allende writers and literary conference. Todd Gitlin was a keynote speaker. Was I nervous about this?

Does a camel hold its water well?

Before I tell you about Mexico, let me tell you two quick things. First, did you know that it's illegal to drink beer out of a bucket while you're sitting on a curb in St. Louis? How about that for a strange fact! I mean, apparently in St. Louis, you can sit on a curb and drink beer out of a shoe or a boot...even out of a bottle. But drink it out of a bucket by God, and get ready to do some jail time.

Buckets of beer aside, the other thing I need to tell you about is Denver...just a quick update. How did I do? you all ask..well, lets just say I was never meant to be a business woman. Self promotion is NOT comfortable for me. It just isn't. I don't think people should have to pay to read what I wrote. If they read it and like it, let them donate to the Debra Sanders Save Her House Foundation (DSSHHF); and if not...well, let them pass the book on to someone who might like it.

So, uhm...okay, the truth is, I gave away more books than I sold in Denver.

Moving on...

In Mexico, I sold all the books I took to sell and only gave away two! Never mind that I only took ten and that I discounted them for students taking my workshops!

Speaking of Mexico, you know what? Mexico deserves a post all its own. Seeing as how in the blogging world posts are supposed to be kept short, I think I will end here with another strange fact and give you the update on Mexico in its own space. It's quite a story!

Weird fact #2: Just like fingerprints, everybody's tongue print is individual. Especially interesting about tongues is not so much that we wag ours as the fact that a giraffe has a 21 inch one and clean their own ears with it!

LOL. Glad to be back on US soil. Check back for the story on Mexico!

And, as always, remember that a little panache can go a long, long way!

Till the next one,

Debra
ps if anyone out there can clean their own ear with their own tongue, please let me know!