You Will Feel Better

In 2007, I was flying high. I was a single mom living in Paris, parenting two incredible daughters. Channeling superwoman, I had just launched a division at a global ad agency when suddenly everything began to change. My gregarious personality became progressively more introverted. Social interactions in my personal and professional life became dysfunctional. A psychiatrist prescribed antidepressants because, obviously, a 42-year-old woman having any issue must be depressed. Those incessant tears and emotional lability were certainly hormonal.

I started spending a lot of time with the blinds down. I self-medicated with one or three extra glasses of wine. I’d gone off the meds, so my weight gain had to be that. I was progressively becoming someone I didn’t know nor did I understand why this stranger had come to inhabit my everything.

The worst part was that I didn’t know or like her. I watched my beautiful life unravel. I began to think this was the hand I had been dealt. It was heartbreaking.

Jump to 2016. While I occasionally pulled professional and personal rabbits out of my hat, my life was a mess. I was obese. Unhealthy. Very unhappy. Broke. I blamed France.

A job offer in LA was slow in coming, and with both kids out of the house, I left Paris with nothing but a suitcase. I went to SE Asia then Sri Lanka to figure out what I could do. The price was right, and I had worked remotely for decades. I worked in sustainability and public awareness campaigns.

Two years later, I returned to the US, which had not been my home in 30+ years. I had been in a bad accident in Sri Lanka, resulting in a traumatic brain injury. Doctors encouraged me to be patient and accept my new normal, but I knew that there was nothing normal going on.

I was a walking poster child for Hypo Pituitary. I shrunk 2 inches in 2 months of my accident. My period stopped abruptly ceased. I may have been 52 years old but this is so not how menopause works.

I did an evaluation in June 2021 to understand where I stood several years out from my 2018 Traumatic Brain Injury. Three grueling years of various therapies and tests. Crushing fatigue and more and a life blown apart.

I was determined to get to the bottom of this and not aspire, as I was told at the time to write two emails a day and consider assisted living. Doctors told me incessantly that I had to come to terms with my new reality.

I recently overheard a loved one say to someone that if they hadn’t figured this out, I would be dead - already or soon.

August 1, 2022, was the first day of the rest of my life. After four years of therapies: vision, speech, OT, PT clamoring for answers.

I came to understand that in the fall of 2007, I suffered an undiagnosed head injury. The American Hospital in Paris, like so many others around the world, had neglected to do any head/brain scans despite a fall resulting in my forehead necessitating 12 stitches. Not to worry, the plastic surgeon was there to ensure ‘Madame’ would look lovely.

If only they knew that “lovely” would be scarce in my life from then on.

Maybe the tech was preoccupied. Perhaps the ER doctor had to be somewhere. I’ll never know.

I do, however, know the colossal impact of that error on my and my children’s lives.

My accident over a decade later actually saved my life.

Few people get to look back, and few people get to feel better. When we finally got the results of my glucagon tests, my incredible NYU Endocrinologist looked me in the eyes and said, You will feel better.

I was moved to tears; I didn’t believe her. And what did better even mean?

Weeks after beginning my human growth hormone shots, my mind, body, and everything began changing. Over the course of 18 months, I have gone from a BMI of 49 to 25. My friends think I can walk without panting because I have lost weight. Perhaps, in part, but I can feel my muscles tighten and release when I walk. My skin is taut. Sometimes, I feel like I am looking at the world through rose-colored glasses. My senses (excluding my smell- lost from my accident) are heightened. I have a skip in my step. I have lost 50% of my body weight and grown immensely on every single level. I wake up feeling rested.

A friend refers to this as my time in jail. My 25-year-old daughter consistently tells me how much I slay.

Most stunningly, I had written off the idea of ever thinking clearly again. My mind feels like a ball of knotted chains finally set free. My days are filled with stunning discoveries about a world that was passing me by.

My trauma runs deep. This first brain injury stole a massive chunk of my life. I refuse to live in a place of bitterness despite knowing that a brain/head scan in 2007 could have changed the course of my life.

The world has judged me for not going for that hike or bike ride. The same goes for my having made some not-great decisions or no longer being on top of my game as I once was. My struggle to survive with this undiagnosed, invisible injury has been seen as many other things but survival. My fatigue was perceived as lazy. Broken bones and other falls were because I was clumsy. People eyed every bite of food I ate, rarely any more or less than anyone else.

I was impaired. Hurt. Sick. Alone.

I have finally stopped feeling like all of it was my fault. I have finally stopped needing anyone to care or understand, as this next chapter of life is mine to live. My personal growth has been breathtaking.

I am not all better, as well-meaning friends consistently exclaim. I still struggle with sequela from my TBI, and I manage. My clarity of mind is stunning. I am forging ahead to repair a very shattered life. And I will. Wish me luck.

I mostly feel great. I can do in a day what I couldn’t do over a month, if at all, just over a year ago. I became a grandmother this summer. Call me Lily. She is my everything, and my gratitude has been pushed even deeper for my healing.

I realized I felt profound joy again. I am starting to know myself again. I like her better. While more like the pre-injury me, I like to think of a new and improved version of myself.

That day, my Doctor said, You will feel better. And I do.