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Introduction to Brandlady.com |
When I Awoke Alone
T his is a fictional story of friendship, humor, determination, and inner strength - I dedicate this story to my friend Barbara DeRosier. I was dreaming I was brushing white sand off my legs and body, as I walked around folding and packing up the over-sized towel that I had been lying on. It was a beautiful blue sky day at the beach on the Gulf of Mexico in Bradenton Florida. The scattered puffy white clouds gave the birds in flight a pristine backdrop. My dreamy horizon exploded as I awoke surprised by a sudden pounding noise. I realized someone was knocking on the door. I was lying in bed; I wasn’t at the beach. Feeling irritated with the knocking on the door, I sat up and tried to shake off the haze of slumber so I could get myself together. I looked around searching for my walker. I struggled to my feet and with a quick look at the clock I saw it was 9.10 a.m. I wondered what day it was. The discomfort I felt at the beach was transferred to the person knocking on the door. As I walked to the door I looked around the familiar room, as I tried to put everything into perspective. I recognized the furniture and thought “I’m not dreaming now, this is my home.” I frowned in my confusion thinking “what a wake-up call!” I clumsily walked to the door and in a confused voice I asked “Who is it?” The man on the other side of the door said “It’s me, are you okay?” As I put my walker aside, I unlocked and opened the door. Craig looked at me incredulously and said “Are you still in bed? Where’s the nurse?” I wasn’t thinking clearly and snapped “What do you want?!” It came across as a demand not a question. He quickly said “What are you trying to do to me Amber – wake up – it’s me!” As he tried to push his way into the room I stood in his way and said “I just woke up. I’m trying to think - Quit pushing me!” Craig held back as he mentally acknowledged that it took me some time to wake up and get focused. “Come on Amber, we have to talk, you can’t keep locking me out,” he whined in his manipulative little boy voice. As my eyes focused on my feet, I quietly mocked his little boy's petulant whine and said “You can’t lock me out.” Craig repeated “Where’s the nurse?” and I rebelliously said “She’s not in here obviously - Go away and leave me alone.” When I tried to slam the door Craig easily put his foot in to stop it from closing. I gave him a frightened look and said “Quit pushing me – give me a few minutes!” He took a step back and allowed me to close the door which I quickly locked again. I leaned wearily on the door. As I leaned my back on the door I thought “Think first. Try to remember” as I questioned my recovery for the millionth time. I felt alone. I tried to lose myself in normality and wondered if there was any coffee in the kitchen. As I fidgeted with the neckline on my pajama top and wondered where my bath robe was, I stood in limbo for a while. My mind was in a fog, and I wished I lived alone and he wasn’t here asking me questions. The shrill of the telephone ringing brought me back to the real world, and I went to answer the phone. It was my OT, Occupational Therapist, Paulette asking “How are you today Amber?” I answered: “Hi Paulette, I haven’t woken up or had any coffee yet, and Craig has been pounding on my door asking me the same question. Will you talk to him?” I asked softly said. She answered “Sure I will.” I put the receiver down and shouted to Craig “Paulette is on the phone - get it out there.” After a mental review of the current incidentals in my life, I sighed with resignation. It was still difficult to comprehend the changes. Dryly I thought “It’s difficult to comprehend anything!” I felt confused and prayed it would get better soon. I decided to call my friend Barbara; I needed to talk to someone who “listens.” I met Craig Crawford at the Bradenton Country Club in the spring of 1988. I was a beautiful woman who had an abundance of positive energy and talent. I had an eye for fashion and owned and managed a woman’s clothing store in Bradenton, Florida. Craig was a success with or without his career and business, and we were independently busy with businesses and socially. Craig worked with his father, who is a well known and respected man in the building and remodeling trades. His reputation for style and perfection is well earned. Many of the homes which he has built at locations along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico are virtual Palaces. Craig was living in a beautiful home which he built for himself located on the Gulf coast, and he had a non-stop social calendar that would make a seasoned socialites head spin. He was usually riding high on positive energy which is big part of his charm. He was flamboyant at times, and I was complimented that a man of his wealth and reputation was attracted to me. I was comfortable with his arrogant style of entertaining when we were together, and I enjoyed the attention he gave me. After a whirlwind courtship we eloped to Las Vegas to get married on January 1st in 1989, and honeymooned in Hawaii. I loved living in the romantic dreamy bubble and was caught up in the mirage of wealth. I played the “femme fatale” right along with his lofty easy-going, but arrogant self. It was a perfect position to be in, and tonight I watched in peaceful silence as he jovially directed the conversation while ‘wheeling and dealing’ with the other guests. We were at the clubhouse on a Sunday evening in April of 1992, where he was entertaining some guests at a “Save the Manatees” fundraiser. He played up to the women as he teased and flirted with them inferring “nothing is too good for this beautiful woman.” He included the successful man’s ego and prestige, and created a glowing image of them both. Craig’s playful eloquent attitude which was often alcohol induced was accepted, and the men who knew him would fall into character and assume the same style. It was a public fundraiser, which he invariably turned into an evening of business opportunities with these wealthy and sophisticated men. Craig’s charm was magnetic as he seemingly “pulled idea’s out of the air” talking about the possibility of building or adding wings onto their homes or businesses. Admittedly Craig’s work was exceptional and I felt proud to be his wife, but this was a fundraiser for the Manatees, and I was a little embarrassed by his manipulative, trivial silliness. I am not sure at what stage in our marriage I became conscious of the technique, but I recognized his arrogant playfulness soon after I began to stand by his side at the many social occasions we attended. As I was at Craig’s side later that evening I whispered in his ear “I’m tired. I think I’ll go home.” He reminded me of the work with the solar panels which were being installed on our home the following day. I thanked him for the reminder and left. As I drove home I thought about the renovations that were being done. We were changing over to solar energy. Craig had been researching the benefits of installing solar energy on the homes and estates he builds, and decided to integrate it into his own home also, to model the advantages. He believed the benefits would overwhelmingly compensate for the potential investments. He told me with our location, the financial benefits of using solar energy would be unbelievable. The concept was relatively new but Craig could afford to incorporate this style into his work. His reputation was for success and power. Having predicted the financial and energy efficiency savings of using solar energy gave Craig the knowledge and power that is typical of his style. Living with solar in our own home would be the ultimate sales package. We had been talking about starting a family and I was thrilled. Craig wanted all boys; he wanted to teach them the trades then bring them into the company like his father did for him and his brothers. I wanted a daughter with whom I could instill some fashion sense and to take over from me also. I thought we would be good parents. We had a strong marriage, we thought alike and we were successful at everything we did. We had a beautiful home, two businesses, but more importantly we were ready. I knew our children would be beautiful. It could be no other way! It’s funny when I think about our elusive dreams and schemes in the beginning of our lives together. We were ambitious and thought we were infallible. I owned a successful franchise in a woman’s clothing store, and drifted off thinking about that as I drove into the garage. I went into the house and got the coffee ready for the next morning and set out the pastries and snacks that I purchased thinking about the men involved with the solar work. Men in construction did not usually come into the home, but I was uncertain of what Craig expected. The manager of my store was not expecting me to be in, so I did not have any concerns about that. After doing the morning preparations I took a shower and turned in for the evening. I listened for Craig to come in, but I fell asleep as I wondered if everything we needed for morning was ready. The following day I woke up with Craig and the alarm at 7.00 am. Craig was groggy as I asked “What time do you expect the men to arrive?” He told me eight thirty, that gave us time to wake-up and get ourselves together. I got on with the morning coffee routine, and took a quick shower. Just before 8 a.m. the drive and yard filled up with builders and carpenters, trucks, a lot of equipment and activity. I was used to workers and trucks coming and going, but the building material and cargo here looked different, lighter. After they appeared to settle in and started their physical work I went outside with offers of coffee. I was in the way more often than not, so I stayed inside the Patio near the door for a while anticipating questions or requests. Having none, my curiosity got the best of me and I went outside to look around. We had talked about the concept and the advantages of solar energy many times during Craig’s research, so I had an idea of what to expect in and around the house. As the day wore on, I walked around outside offering water or iced beverages to the men working. Craig was on the roof of the garage and asked for a fresh bottle of water, knowing we kept some in a small refrigerator that was on the Patio near the kitchen. I casually climbed the ladder near Craig with the water, and he teased me with some bawdy male humor. That led to some of the other guys nagging him saying “That’s not the way to treat a lady.” I knew most of the guys because we socialized with some and they teased me about the propositions they would like to make to me and women who looked like me.” As we laughed and joked I was saying silly things too, and not really giving my precarious position any special attention. We were laughing at each other and some of guys were doing wolf whistles as I reached over to give Craig a bottle of water when he came to the edge of the roof. That was the last thing I remembered. I lost my footing and fell off the ladder! ************ When I awoke five weeks later in the intensive care unit at Manatee Memorial Hospital, I was alone and frightened. I had no idea what was happening as I had been comatose since my fall. A skull fracture caused brain damage, but it was too soon to know how severe my injuries were. I had been going in-and-out of consciousness for several days, and I was accustomed to the medical staff coming and going from my room. I was terrified regardless. It was a time of hopelessness, confusion and fear. I was alone in my mind. I had no experience or knowledge to draw from. I was in a dark place that I hope to never be again. I was blessedly oblivious to my reality, my eyes were open but I did not see. My mind was blank. As I had been lying in my hospital bed, life went on without me. When my mom came into my room one day and stood by my side, I recognized her. I saw her familiar face for the first time. I tried to ask her “What happened? Where am I?” and she saw a level of consciousness that had been missing. I was aware of my pain and surroundings and responded with fear and confusion. She could see that I was semi-conscious and she told me “You were hurt because you fell off a ladder.” I couldn’t comprehend what she was talking about. My mind was totally blank. I asked her to help me, but I did not know how or why?! She asked me some trivial questions, and I answered them hesitantly and slowly by nodding or shaking my head yes or no. I did not know who I was, where, or why, but I was glad to see her. My hands and arms had needles in them, with tubes that were attached to the machines surrounding my bed. There were many lights on them that were blinking and beeping to a rhythm of there own. The staccato beeps added to my confusion. Craig came to be with me as much as he could. He felt frantic as he watched me lying in the bed. He was helpless because he could not do anything for me. I did not recognize him. I thought he would hurt me like the doctors do, and I was uncomfortable when Craig was in the room. The doctors explained, “Her brain is swollen from the fracture and it appears to affect her recent memory more at this time.” They wanted to comfort him, but told him honestly that my memory may not return as the swelling goes down. It is not unusual to recover with permanent amnesia. Over the next few days I began to recall more about myself and my life. Visitors came and went, but most of them stayed at the door and talked to Craig or my family due to the seriousness of my condition. They thought because I didn’t remember Craig, it was unlikely that I would remember them. Some of my visitors, like the men who were with me when I fell, were stunned about my condition and the magnitude of the complications due to the brain injuries. I had a broken wrist and a couple of broken fingers, but the severity of my fractured scull was incredible. In the fall it was assumed that my head hit the ground first. Brain Injury is very complex. I remembered more each day, and family and friends began to relax a little. I recalled a great deal about my younger years and began to do silly things. I was trying to cope with the confusion of my circumstances. Some were excited and thought “The real Amber is in there somewhere just waiting to come out.” I was getting used to seeing Craig each day and remained confused that I did not know him. Mom, dad and others said “That’s your husband Craig, he loves you and you love him.” I could not remember him or our marriage, so I was skeptical. One evening when my dad came into the room and started teasing me about being “a trouble maker,” his smiles and teasing seemed to jolt me awake, almost as if ’he waved a magic wand’. I woke up to his teasing. Life was getting better each day. During one visit Barbara encouraged me to plug the hole of my tracheotomy tube and try to talk – It worked! I talked better after a little practice and after saying some “repeat after me” phrases. They could understand me! We were so happy. Everyone in the room was crying or giggling and felt like dancing! It truly was a miracle … I was alive and I was back! There was some concern because I did not remember Craig, but I was trying very hard. With a skull fracture, brain damage may be more severe than it is in people with a head injury and it was difficult for Craig and my family to understand the complications. I had no other fractures. My right arm and leg were affected from the head trauma so I had therapy build up my strength and coordination and learned to compensate as much as I could. I had therapy for everything it seemed and I was re-learning all that I could. When they thought I had recovered enough they removed my tracheotomy and I had a crash course on breathing. I re-learned how to sit-up, how to talk, eat, brush my teeth and the many other things that we take for granted as being “natural.” I patiently watched and re-learned gradually and in stages, but the doctors were concerned about the obvious memory loss for my recent years. Another regular visitor that I didn’t remember was our Church Pastor, Pastor Jerry. He had a warm smile and prayed with me during his visits. He talked about my recovery and told me it’s important to “believe in yourself and you’ll find the strength you need is within you.” He said “God is with you Amber.” He told me that he presided over our marriage when we exchanged our vows, and he reassured me that our vows were sacred. I could not remember that ceremony and that part of my life, but I continued trying to learn as much as I could. As my therapy and recovery progressed, the weeks turned into months before I could go home. I was impatient to leave and Craig was mapping out the life I would go home to. I was to continue to have in home therapy and daily health care. He had taken over my recovery, but I did not feel the closeness to him that he thought I should. I was close to my family, especially my dad, and I was close to Barbara - we grew up together and went to the same high school, then college. She understood the memory loss and was confused about it too. As we were maturing as girls we had talked about the “what ifs” in our lives and planned everything out; we were going to become professional women. We also had serious discussions about our independence and our unwillingness to give control to of our life to someone else. This was after the women’s liberation movement of course and we truly meant it! We believed we could multitask, and I usually took on more challenges than I should because Barbara said “You were like that!” She said we remained close friends after my marriage and was in our home often: I kept trying to set her up for dates with some of Craig’s friends. I enjoyed Barbara’s visits more than anyone’s. Life was easier to deal with if I joked about it, and my strong sense-of-humor returned with a vengeance! I thought Craig was too serious, I did not feel as fragile as he seemed to think I was. What did I know though I was “brain injured”. I later told Barbara: “He really is a hunk!” Barbara owned a Jewelry Boutique that was featured and located within each of my clothing stores. She had been overseeing the management of my stores during my illness and recovery. Because of her and Craig’s contribution and care of my stores I did not need to think about anything other than my personal recovery. I was in charge of getting well and doing my therapy so I could re-learn how to be me again! I thought I could take care of myself if I had to, and I was beginning to resent that some did not believe me. I thought I was much better! In actual fact I was the person who didn’t understand my condition, but as my individual ideas and spontaneous thoughts returned I badly wanted to go home. I had been in the hospital over ten months, and the doctor’s said that I could continue my recovery at home. Many people like Barbara and my dad encouraged my silliness, my wit and sense-of-humor when they visited. I soon began planning on what I would do when I went home. Barbara knew I was starting to plan things that I wanted to do when I was home, and I was not accepting the “fragile label” that Craig was trying to stick me with. Over the years she has known me as a fighter who loves challenges. She began to educate my lovelorn husband and told him that he better take another look at me. She reminded him of my energy and strength and told him “The best thing you could do - is to challenge that strength. They were about to enter my room and she said “Watch me and don’t say a thing.” Barbara entered the room first saying “OK lady … you’ve sloughed off long enough,” and added with a grin “Forget the pity party kiddo – it’s time to get off your butt and get back to work!” I looked at her with mouth hanging open surprise, then I looked at the surprise on Craig’s face. After a moment of stunned silence, I changed my persona and wearing a perky smile I said “What’s the matter Missy – is the work too much for you?!?” That did it. I surprised them and me … It was great to be back. I recalled that I loved Craig, but it was not a “girlish-giggly” kind of love: It was an “equal-partnership” kind of love. We were both capable of successfully managing our lives independently. Barbara was right about the fragile treatment, I felt it was condescending and it implied I was vulnerable. In truth I was fragile and vulnerable but I wasn’t about to own-up-to-it! Craig hired two occupational therapists to stay with me seven days a week. Paulette would be with me for eight hours a day, four days a week. Sherry would be there for other three days each week for the same number of hours. They were employed at the same Assisted Living Care Facility and would work out their time schedules through their ALC employers: subject to Craig’s approval of course. Craig had also arranged on my return home; there was an attendant in our home available 24 hours around the clock. It was unlikely that I would need 24 hour care, but Craig did not want the responsibility of my care to be on him, family or friends. It was important to have someone available. If they were not needed, they could read a book or something. I thought he over-did the round the clock idea, but who was I to question him? That plan almost worked for the first four days of my return home. We quickly learned having a person around the house constantly is very disruptive. We were used to service people being around a few hours most days as Craig had domestic help in the house and landscape maintenance workers outside. Forget the around-the-clock help! I awoke with ALC help in the house each day, and went to sleep while another ALC staff was in our home. It was smothering us! We had absolutely no privacy … it was like trying to eat, sleep and entertain guests by the nurses station on a busy floor in a hospital! We tried to adjust, but could not. Craig had planned to manage his business from home for the first two weeks, and thought he would return to work as he was needed. After four days with no privacy I was ready to kill him, or hurt him so bad that he would need a hospital! Craig had been living a bachelor’s existence for the months I was hospitalized, and this change had him threatening to leave me and go to a hotel! I blew up at him and said “I didn’t ask for this!” “You leave ME … YOU are the one who ordered all this help as if I’m a crazy psycho who needs wacko observation twenty-four friggen hours a day! YOU can sit here and have a nurse talk to you as if you’re a retard and ask if she should wipe YOUR ass when you’re finished relieving yourself in the bathroom!! “How dare you! If I have to live in this house with you – let me fall on my head so I can be in a coma again!” Then came the tears and the “I hate you!” Craig went back to work. Yep … I was awake alright! My speech therapist would have been so proud of me … my articulation and inflection were so good … I spoke with perfect clarity! The phone had been ringing off-and-on during my battle, so I finally answered it. It was my OT Paulette asking “How are you today Amber?” I explained, “Hi Paulette, I haven’t had any coffee yet, and Craig has been pounding on my door asking me the same question. I want to kill him … Will you talk to him?” I asked softly said. She answered “sure I will.” I put the receiver down and told Craig “Paulette is on the phone - get it out there.” That was the re-birth of Amber Crawford. It was certainly a rude awakening and an unconventional beginning, but we all have to start somewhere!?! smile & wink 
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