7 years with my husband’s severe TBI

BY: THERESA McCOLL

Where do I go from here?

There have been nights I waited for Norm to walk in the house at 5 p.m., when he used to finish work. But yet another day and night go by and no one walks through the door.

On Thursday April 28, 2011 our lives changed forever. Norm was in a very serious accident. The pick-up truck he was driving ended up underneath a tractor trailer.

As the days go by I am ok, the best I can be given the situation. But when the night comes, it’s a different story. The feeling of loneliness sets in, and without knowing it, tears start rolling down my face. I can’t find the off-switch.

I keep wanting to wake up from this nightmare, but it’s our reality. For over seven years, this has been my new normal. I find myself planning my life and his at the same time. It’s really scary knowing that I have to make decisions about my husband’s health.

I have learned how to drive a mobile van and how to secure Norm in place in his wheelchair. We go to the movies, dinner and to Toronto to check out places like the Hockey Hall of Fame. I am trying to give Norm a normal life even though I know he won’t get any better.

It feels like I have put my life on the back burner and become a full time caregiver.
I’ve gone back to school and took a Personal Support Worker course to get insight to help Norm in his new life. I have taken training courses through the Ontario Brain Injury Association (OBIA), which have helped.

I am becoming more involved in Norm’s therapy. I assist Norm’s therapist with his treatment, such as assisting him in the therapy pool as he walks from one length of the pool to the other.

But I keep wondering  what happened to the golden years we worked so hard to enjoy? How am I supposed be a loving wife when I am living on my own?


After her husband’s injury, Theresa went back to school to become a Personal Support Worker. She has taken courses in brain injury, and is now a full time caregiver. You can follow her on Instagram, HERE

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Interactions after a TBI

BY: SABA RIZVI

I think the hardest thing since acquiring my brain injury has been the inability to perform basic functions, such as reading, talking, walking, and just even being able to eat.

photo credit: Girl in Despair via photopin (license)
photo credit: Girl in Despair via photopin (license)

Even now, several years later, these functions still feel like a luxury.

Living with brain injury is usually an invisible disability. People may tell you to ‘try harder’, ‘not be lazy’, or that ‘you look fine, stop telling yourself there’s something wrong’. These people don’t understand that an ABI survivor’s best bet to recovery is putting their best foot forward, regardless of how they’re really feeling.

Ironically though, if you do try to live a normal life, these people will tell you that you are fine and they don’t believe that something is wrong. But when you are in such a bad state that you can’t get of the house, these same people will tell you to suck it up and stop being a baby. So, since I acquired my TBI, I appreciate those who have accepted the new reality as much as possible – the ones who have been patient.

Even something as little as needing space or not being upset if I need help reading, or if I just have the energy to stay home and watch TV are a big help to recovery. I also appreciate those who are not understanding, because it gives a more clear understanding of who you can trust or who is actually listening.

Saba acquired her brain injury in 2010, and is interested in TBI awareness and advocacy.