So today is 4 years since THAT THING happened. Four years since I found myself broken and lying on train tracks wondering if this was it. And, odd as it may sound, despite the horror show that is 2020, this is the year the accident and its aftereffects are finally behind me.
In fact, last week, I started to tell the story about when I had my wisdom teeth taken out sometime in my early 20s. “OMG, it was the most traumatic thing ever....”. Someone else had to correct me. (Although, I will stand by the statement that the wisdom teeth incident was gruesome)
Here’s a list of some of the notable things from the last year....
Just before lockdown (like literally the week before) I fulfilled a lifetime ambition with a business trip to Moscow. After we were finished with work, I had the energy to have fabulous dinners out and to explore this fascinating storied city.
I have been using the new ‘work from home- no commute time’ to run more regularly. I have inched my way back up to 6 miles on my old route- up and down the Old Croton Aqueduct. I don’t run fast, but I’m finally getting to the point where running is fun again (even in a mask).
My social life now looks like almost everyone else’s— small groups of close friends and quality time spent with family. Like everyone else, I am beginning to ease my way back into bigger groups. But unlike years past, I can now manage to keep up with multiple conversations at once without getting nauseous.
From a career perspective, despite the pandemic, things couldn’t be going better. I have a fabulous team and I have already delivered my 2020 objectives.
During 6 months of pandemic WFH lockdown I have managed long days of back-to-back Zoom calls. 2 years ago, longer than two hours of screens at a stretch were a struggle.
I don’t have pain. Really. I almost never notice my broken back, or neck. ( except perhaps if I have sat on a chair for 3 days straight- in which case I probably deserve it) and while my knee bothers me when I run, for an almost 50 year old woman- it’s definitely not out of the realm of normal. I do have more headaches and nausea than I did prior to the accident, but it rarely stops me from doing what I want and can usually be solved with a good nap!
To be fair, the year did not start this way. Just before my third anniversary I had fallen over while running, landing directly onto my chin ending up looking like I had been badly beaten) A history of head injury will mean that any subsequent injuries will result in much increased symptoms. This second concussion meant that, once again my days became a minefield of sensory overload and nausea. With a daily commute through New York Grand Central and the notoriously packed 4-5 train to my office at 3 World Trade Center-I quickly retreated under my disguise of hat and sunglasses. On top of feeling crappy, I was devastated and frightened. The worst-case scenario was that this would take another two years of recovery
However, the upside of a history of brain injury means that I have a fantastic neurologist on speed-dial. With a combination of steroids and getting back to the regimen of 47 Botox shots in my head, within two months we were able to get the symptoms under control again.
In the middle of this period, just to make things a little MORE complicated, I contracted a staph infection related to the hardware that was inside my leg. After a particularly busy two days on my feet, the scar site began to get hot and red rash quickly spread. A day in one of NYC’s colorful ERs, with massive doses of IV antibiotics followed.
But alongside these setbacks, I was also moving forwards. My re-entry into the workplace had been like restarting a flywheel. At the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2019, I had needed to lean in heavily to regain momentum. I took on extra projects, led taskforces and wrote thought leadership on top of my day to day job responsibilities. By October 2019 the dividends were beginning to pay out. I had multiple new client projects, just as the new head injury and the staph infection came along- so was trying to balance 80-hour work weeks while not feeling my best.
And then the final sideways knock came. Depression. A giant black cloud settled in and wouldn’t budge. I spent my birthday- at the end of November, a Saturday, crying. The whole day. Literally unable to stop.
Given the data, this should not have taken me by surprise:
· Those with a history of head injury are more than 3 times likely to suffer from depression
· More than 50% of people who have been in a traumatic accident that resulted in ICU admission end up suffering from a major depressive episode
· Stress e.g. the 80-hour work weeks I was doing, while feeling unwell, are a well-documented trigger for depression.
Like most of us, I tried to tough it out. And while mental health struggles are theoretically being destigmatized, it’s incredibly hard to own to them while you are in the middle of them. So, I struggled through the molasses. I honestly don’t remember much between November and the end of January. I know I buried myself in my work and ignored almost everything else. I didn’t really seek out the help I needed until things got darker than they should have. And yet again, my amazing medical team came to the rescue. For anyone out there struggling through this awful time (the data says 30% of you) just remember that help is at hand.
And then, just as the personal shadows lifted, a much bigger shadow came over us all. But first I managed to fit in two back to back awesome trips. I was in Cale, Colombia as the CoVid cases exploded in Italy, and in Moscow when the N.Y. cases crept from 1 to 81, and Russia threatened to Quarantine incoming Americans.
And we all know what happened next.
And so- like many others- we sheltered in place, zoomed and watched in horror as March, April and May swept through, taking with it so much of what we thought was normal. Our family was acutely grateful to have a home with space, to keep our jobs and to have each other. The days and weeks blurred together in a muddle of homeschool, obsessively refreshing NYT tracking pages, nature documentaries, hand stitching masks, Minecraft, closet cleaning, debating the ethics of insta-cart, Dr Birx scarves and thankfully, each other. As May slipped into June and July, and the incredible unfairness of this disease threw the unfairness of so many other things into sharp relief, we began to creep outside. But we have also had the immense privilege to stay close to home- something only afforded to the lucky few.
And so, while for all of us the last six months have been some of the most turbulent of our lives, for me, it has also brought stillness. And perspective. The lessons I learnt during recovery, lessons of acceptance and living small have helped to keep me sane. And, it occurs to me, that perhaps it is BECAUSE of the pandemic and the outside turbulence (not despite it) that my own trauma has receded into the background.
And there is definitely a lesson in that.
