Hows Your Head?

By Patrick Rabbett

The story begins and is set in Lancaster. It was the Friday19th May 2006. I was at work, still feeling a bit giddy but tired from the previous two nights out on the beer. I found out that day, that my good mate Luke was home for the weekend and we arranged to meet up. I went to Lukes that night and from there we went to our friend Jamess house to play pool. We had a few beers , played pool and had a laugh. We then got a lift part the way back to Lukes. on the way back, I stopped in at my cousins and by this time I was drunk and talking shite. I was telling Clare that I was a sexual terrorist, this was a saying that one of the big brother contestants had come out with. We then went back to Lukes and carried on drinking until daft o clock in the morning, listening to music- and again talking shite. We woke up in Lukes bed, (aint that right son?!) then got ready and went into town. Luke had plans for a new tattoo, so I said Id go with him. We had talked about going out that night, but I was skins, so I thought it probably was not on the cards. We went around a few shops, looking at clothes and such. We went into Duffer (a mens clothing shop) where I have a store card, and in popped a right pearl of wisdom. I could get Luke an item of clothing on my card, and he could give me the cash to go out with that night. (This is how much I was into going out at the time, normally at least twice a week! It got progressively worse and got a bit silly at one point. I was going into work stinking of beer, driving into work blatantly over the limit! I never had any money and I started to put going out as a higher priority over paying bills!) So thats what I did. I convinced Luke to get something on my card so I had some beer tokens in my pocket. I also bought a t-shirt in Duffer, to wear that night. Thats how clever I was back then, using my store card, while I was skint, to fund beer and clothes for a night out on the town. We then went to the tattoo shop, a few doors down from Liquid nightclub. Luke had a look through the different designs and came to a choice on the one he wanted. When he was done we went back to the Ridge estate, to his dads house, to show them his new tattoo. We had a brew, chatted to Monty, Lynn and Linzi for a while, and then Luke took me home. It was around tea time at this point, so that was a call for me to start getting

ready to go out When I was eventually ready, in my new pink t-shirt, I went and picked Luke up in my mums car, as I had no petrol in mine (thats how bad it was!). After this, we picked Gary up, then went back to mine and got a lift into town. The first pub we went into was the Friary. I ordered a double Vodka and Red Bull, and we stood around the pool tables. A Hen party was going around the pub, playing games. Their task was to see how many pairs of boxer shorts they could get off men. One of them asked me for mine and of course, me being a messy ginger monstrosity from the last three nights on the beer, I willingly obliged. One of the hens gave me a pen to sign my name on them, and off I went, up to the toilets, whipped them off, and signed them. I then remember coming back down the stairs with the boxers in my hand. And that is about the last memory I have of that night, that week, and the next 2 weeks! The reason for this loss in memory? The next part of this story is based on things that I have been told by friends who were out that night, who visited me tirelessly in hospital afterwards, and who have been there for me ever since. And obviously family who have been through all this crap along with me I have been told that after the Friary, I started drinking wine. This was another trick of mine around that time, as it went down easily and had the desired effect quite quickly. But it was not your average 125/250 ml glasses; it was PINTS with a drop of lemonade!! I found that I could not get drunk the same the second night in a row if I stuck to lager, so this was another reason for drinking wine. You could say I was forcing the issue as I am not aware of any of the goings on after the Friary. People have told me about significant parts of that night- Nearly getting knocked down, taking peoples drinks off them and getting stopped from buying drinks because I was too drunk!. These three points were all towards the end of the night. Where the penultimate and most significant moment occurred, and is the reason for me writing this story. It is probably, no definitely, the most significant moment in my life to date. I do not think there will be anything bigger to surpass this. I hope not, if it involves similar circumstances and results! Again, this is not me telling this from memory, just what I have been told from the countless times I have talked about it since and asked questions. I think it stems from my school days, back at Our Ladys. I was based on the third floor throughout my time there, and used to jump on, and slide down the various hand rails in the three story block. This is not the schools fault obviously, just me being stupid. The

only difference between me doing it at school and doing it in Liquid that night, was around 6-7 pints of wine. And thats exactly what happened. I walked down the first couple of steps, and then jumped onto the handrail. This all boils down to me showing off, and I think I got the desired reaction, as the people who saw me jump on, and go straight over the side would have been like oooohthen ahhhh! Quote Garth Davies. My friends Luke, Alan, Gaz Paz and Mickey Finn were all there at this point, as I lay on the dance floor below. Apparently I landed on my back. It is lucky that I had that many drinks inside me, or I would have probably snapped in half when I hit the bottom, but instead I bounced. After the initial impact, I smashed the back of my head on the dance floor. I have since learned that this is where the Cerebellum is located in your brain. An ambulance was called and Liquid was emptied. There were only 6-7 people left in the club at that time. My mate Alan was thrown out by a numpty bouncer because he wanted to help his mate on the floor! As the bouncers did not have a clue, and were trying to move me. Toni and Nichola Reagan, who witnessed my accident, got a taxi to my house to tell my Mum and Dad. When they woke them up, my Dad had been drinking so he could not drive, and had to get in the girls taxi up to the hospital. Alan had rung his brother, Gary, who made his way up to the hospital and Luke stayed in the ambulance with me. When I was at the hospital, I was sedated, and put on breathing apparatus (intubated) this machine was fed in through my mouth and breathed for me. My Dad has since told me that when he walked in and saw me all tubed up, he thought that was it - I was going to die. This statement from my dad was probably the biggest eye opener for me regarding my accident. I have heard the line Youre so lucky used so many times that it does not really have an impact, but when my Dad said that to me in the car by Kings way Baths, it really hit home. From Lancaster Infirmary, I was moved to Preston Royal Infirmary, via ambulance. The first ward I was on in Preston RLI was Critical Care where I was in a coma for around 3 days. I was in Preston for two weeks, but do not remember anything! As my condition improved, I was moved to ward 2A, and taken off the ventilator. This was to replace my breathing so that my brain could be at complete rest. Apparently it was scary stuff, tubes coming from everywhere! My Mum and Dad have said that there were loads of visitors, but only two could be around the bed at any one time. As my condition improved further, I was moved back to Lancaster, Ward 5. This is in the old building apparently? Again, I do not remember any of this. I have been told that I was still a bit of a cabbage here, in between sleeping and being fed, I would mumble or

whisper random jibber jabber. From the storys I have been told, I would have dreams during these hours and hours of sleep, then wake up and think it was reality i.e. been out shopping with my dad to Asda, I Needed to go and catch the plane with the rest of the England football team, I then shouted at the old man in the next bed Sven!, Sven! She wont let me go! My kits in those draws! This she was Becky, and was by my bed throughout the early stages, before she had to go home. When people tell me these little tales of what jargon I used to come out with in those hospital beds, I find it strange, because I know I am a gobshite, but youd think that when your half dead you would not still be coming out with this spiel?! I was on Ward 5 for a week, before being moved to Ward 23, a rehab ward. For the first few days I was in this ward, I am still unaware of what happened there. It wouldnt have been a lot but even still, I am oblivious to whatever did happen. I think my first memory after my accident was on this ward. The day my friend Becky went home. I remember her Mum and Dad being by my bedside with some fruit; cherries and bananas I think? Her Mum and Dad had come to pick her up this day to go back to Wales. This is a strange type of memory. I can put it in a similar vein to what I think my first ever memory is. Sitting around a big circle in nursery eating Ice-cream!! Things did not become all clear after this. It is still very hazy. In fact, I cannot remember a point on that ward where I thought Yeah, I know whats going on now. I think it just sort of happened without me realizing. When I did get back to being what I consider the normal me (whatever normal is?) The world cup was starting, and I then realized I was surrounded by nutters. The scary Irish man in the corner, the fat guy across who had maggots in his bandages, and did not stop moaning about it!! Come on man! They cant hurt that much? And the guy who couldnt go to the toilet, so they had to pull the curtains round and make do. I shouldnt really call them nutters though, because I was shouting Sven! Sven! at some old guy in the next bed not that long back. But none of them were really on my wave length. So I was a bit frustrated being on this ward. The next hurdle to cross, in this silly episode of mine, was getting active again. While I was laid in bed, I did not really think about getting up and walking to the toilet. I cannot recall a point where I thought to myself, why do I have to wee in a bottle? and why am I being pushed round in a wheel chair? Again, I think I just became aware of why I could not as I became more alert over time. I established that when I banged the back of my head I damaged my Cerebellum, a contusion in my left lateral ventricle apparently? None of this medical talk means a lot to me, so I describe my injury as. I damaged the part of my brain that controls balance, co-ordination and movement. Primarily balance I think.

Ward 23 is where I started physiotherapy. It is weird to think back and re-call what a big deal the nurses and physios made when I transferred from my bed, to a wheelchair. In my head, at the time, I was like Whats going on? struggling to move from a bed to a chair? Its like three year olds stuff!! I just thought to myself, Ive got to keep trying or Ill live like an invalid for good! The harder I try and get through these menials, the quicker I can get out of here! Then came standing un-aided -this was very strange! Id been in a bed for 3 weeks now, standing for the first time was weird! Once Id got to grips with just standing, there were a number of different exercises I had to master before I could try to walk. When I was eventually able to take my first steps, for a while I had to use a Zimmer frame with someone stood in front and behind me in case I fell over. After this I moved onto crutches. With me being a cocky git I thought I was a hero being able to do this, obviously, I was not, because this is a natural bodily function that most of us learn to do from the age of two onwards, and here I was aged 22 learning how to walk and balance again! The only time this sunk in, was when I failed at one of the set exercises Sim, the physiotherapist, gave me to do. This frustrated me and consequently spurred me to keep going and get it right. I then started to use parallel bars in the physio room. These physiotherapy sessions were daily, but would only be short, as I would get tired very quickly. I have since learnt that this tired feeling is referred to as fatigue. Not your average tired out feeling but because I had damaged my brain, it could not cope with the absorption of information as before. I always liken this to being a baby or OAP, they both need regular naps throughout the day. This brain fatigue was probably one of the most troublesome after effects of the bang to my head, after learning to walk again. After I was discharged, I visited ward 23 again over Christmas 06, with some chocolates. When I walked past the physio room, it seemed somewhat ghostly. Obviously it is not but I have a lot of memories from the previous summer there. The whole process from transferring from bed to chair, onto walking unaided took around 2 weeks. The moment I realized I was nearly ready to go home, was when I timidly walked unaided from the physio room back to my bed. A round of applause came from what I had called weirdos. They werent weirdos, maybe just a little strange. As I was now getting about on my own in a fashion, the next step was to take on stairs. This again was very very strange. Something that seems so easy as walking up and down stairs, and is something that we all take for granted, was a massive challenge for me. If only if Id have walked down those stairs 2-3 weeks earlier! When I had got to a decent standard on the stairs, the hospital said it would be ok for me to go home for the weekend. This was a really big thing for me at the time. The occupational therapist, Debs, went to my house and did a reccy to check that access and everything would be ok. They gave me

a wheelchair and a Zimmer to assist me while I was at home. I kept a diary throughout my hospital stay, well, when I was actually alert and able to take notice of what was going on and note things down that is. This was to help with my memory so that I was actually using my brain and it was doing some work. My diary entry from that weekend is as follows -Saturday 24th June 2006 - Woke up at 08.30, watched TV, had snooze from 11.00, Gary and shelle came at 1.00pm, Gaz and Connor came. Alex Michaels came to cut my hair after work. -Sunday 25th June 2006 - Woke up at 10.00, walked downstairs on my own! Made boiled eggs and toast, went to Renault to have a look at cars, then to Brendans chippy, talked to Luke and Rich. Went back to the hospital, England V Ecuador. As you can see the entrys were not the most informative or detailed of my weekend at home. I think this was down to me sleeping a whole lot and also to the fact that my brain was still a bit of a mess! When I had to go back to Ward 23, I was dreading it. Away from my comfy bed and Sky T.V, back to the nutters and the great Hospital food. When we pulled up at the hospital, Jackie one of the nurses was outside having a fag. I let her know that I was not looking forward to coming from normality, at home, back to that room with them lot. I got on well with Jackie, we had a laugh, and she knew my mum as well. I think she had a word with somebody up the hierarchy ladder, because when I got back to the room with my mates, the sister said there was a single room free, which I could have. I snapped her hand off with this offer. There was then talk of me going home for good following my successful weekend at home, which perked me up a little bit more. But I had to see the head injury specialist, who I now know to be Helen McConville, the head of the ABI team- Acquired Brain Injury. When she arrived, I was sat in the garden with Delia & Andrew, Gaz, Shelly and my Mum and Dad. We heard a shout! Is there a Steven Gerrard here? There is a board that had to be signed if you are leaving the ward, saying who has left and where they had gone. I would regularly write Steven Gerrard aka Patrick Rabbett is in the garden! We sat with Helen, me and my Mum and Dad, and discussed any issues that would arise with me going home. This fatigue business was mentioned, but I think I just wanted to get home and get my old life back again, so what she was telling me probably was not registering, well, not probably, it was not!! My key question that had been in my head a while was when can I go back to work? I was itching to get back, as the lads had been visiting me, and I had

missed the crack. Never was I expecting the answer she gave me!! One to two months!?!? I was like what?? Im back to normal and ready to do it! Of course I was not, I saw myself as being fit and ready, because I was up and walking about again. I had totally dismissed the fact that my brain, the thing that controls EVERYTHING!! we do, was still in a bad way! The answer she gave me was a shock, but I thought nahhh, Ill be back before then easy! I continued with this train of thought for a while, Im back walking and that again, that did not take long, so why is going back to work such a problem? So that was it, I was discharged from Ward 23. A big thanks to everyone on Ward 23, all the staff - Ill name the ones I remember. I dont remember all the names. Probably down to the 25ft drop?? And its all still a little hazy, but thanks to Jackie, Sim, Debs and Mark. Sorry to the staff I have not mentioned, but my stay on your ward was made as pleasant as could be expected in those circumstances, so thank you all so much. It is more than a year on now since I was discharged from Ward 23, my memory from around this time is still all very hazy. I remember being in a sort of routine. This would be getting up-whenever I woke up, get some breakfast, watch TV, fall asleep for a few hours, wake up and have some tea, watch more TV and then go to bed. That was my average day and this went on for a good few weeks to a month. I was then introduced to the physio from the ABI team. The physio was called Louise. She would come to the house and her role was to set me a series of exercises that were there to help improve my balance, coordination and strength of my lower limbs, because my legs by this time look like white chocolate match makers, skin and bone! This was because I had not really walked for a good month or so, instead, I had been laid up in bed. And so she set me these exercises. Simple things at the start. For example, sit and stand from the sofa, heel to toe walking in a straight line, running up the stairs and then coming back down as fast as possible, standing on one leg as best I could and for as long as possible. I say simple things at first, but these were not simple things to me at the time. I did these exercises everyday. They were a pain in the arse to be honest, but I was not going to improve if I did not do them. I remember doing these in the front room everyday. In hot conditions, as it was warm outside, and they used to tire me out - mentally and physically, because my fitness, at the time, was shocking. Again because I had not done anything for weeks! Also, as time went on, I was coming to terms with, and getting a better understanding of, this fatigue business.

At first I thought I was sleeping a lot, because I was bored and had nothing to do with myself throughout the day. I said to myself that- Its because Im sat here bored, watching daytime TV that I am tired all the time! If I was allowed back to work Id have something to do, and would not feel like this. the longer this went on, I began to realize that it was not boredom that was making me feel like this, because when I did feel like going to sleep, or needed sleep, my balance would be off. I have a few ways of describing this feeling now, since I have felt it so many times. Being dizzy- if you spin around 10 times and then tried walking! It would not be quite as intense as being that dizzy, but the feeling that I got and sometimes still get would be something similar. Another similar sensation is that feeling you get when you are going to sit down but someone has moved the chair away. That sort of empty falling feeling? The final one I have just come across, whilst writing this! And that is walking while on a train or a bus. The only difference is, you are physically moving around on a train. When I get this feeling, it occurs while walking on a flat stationary surface.

The only way to get rid of this feeling was to sleep. And during those 5 months off work, at home, I did an awful lot of it! I was told that this feeling of fatigue occurred because my brain was badly damaged, and when I took information in, or did anything i.e. make a sandwich or watched TV, my brain could not handle the amount of work it was taking on during these menial tasks, So you can see my frustration and anxiety during this time. The ABI team gave me fatigue monitoring sheets, where I would score my levels of fatigue throughout the day, so I could keep a track on what was tiring me out and try to manage it efficiently. Sleep, though, was the only way to keep the feeling at bay, as when we sleep, our brain shuts down and repairs. As weeks and months went by, this fatigue I was feeling gradually subsided, and got to a point where I could manage and understand it. Consequently, I was introduced to the occupational therapist from the ABI team, her name was Shirley. Shirleys role was to eventually introduce me back to work. But before this could happen, way before this, she would carry out tests and assessments on me, to see how the grey matter was performing. Her job was also to make sure I was coping ok in everyday home life, I did not really have much trouble with getting around the house and general

living so on that side of things I was ok. So now my new life consisted of: sleeping, TV, exercising, eating and a meeting with Shirley every 2 weeks. The highlight of my day was the 2 minute walk to the shop for a newspaper and then sitting on the front garden reading it. There are probably grooves from my bum with the amount of time I spent sitting on that 3ft wall during those 5 months. That was my favourite place to sit and think about what was going on and what had happened. Well second favourite to my bed!! Louise, the physio, would generally visit every 2-3 weeks and assess how I was doing with my exercises, and also set new ones, as I progressed and improved with my balance. One thing I had missed doing, was going to the gym. I asked Louise if this would be possible again. She talked to me about it and advised me that it was not a good idea for me to be going to the gym-lifting weights, as it would raise my inter-cranial pressure?? Apparently, when I was first admitted to hospital, this was a problem, and there was talk of them drilling into my head to release this pressure, so the gym was out of the question. But she did say that she would take me to the gym and give me a program that would benefit and improve me at that stage, but did not involve lifting weights. By this time, I was able to run, not very comfortably, but I could run in a fashion. Football was in my head also, I wanted to get back playing again at some point. So I started going on small runs- around the block at first, then up and down the hill a few times. Then in all my wisdom I decided to run up to Gaz and Shells, we clocked this and it was only 1.8 miles. But those 1.8 miles were hard!! In fact, I did not run all the way, I walked up ridge hill. The next day was agony. My legs were in bits!! I think the exercises went out of the window that day! I think this was around 4 months after the accident, but I kept on running and built up my level of fitness. By this time, the football season had started, and I badly wanted to be a part of it again. I would go and watch my mates play, and then go back to the pub with them (no alcohol allowed!-more doctors orders!) and even though banter was flying around and the boys were in good spirits, win or lose, I used to come away from the pub gutted, feeling really down that I was not involved. This is when I started realizing what a big big mistake I had made that night back in May. I think this was also the time I started feeling down and sorry for myself, as all my mates were playing football, going out on weekend and enjoying themselves, and here was me, having trouble walking around the house, let alone playing football! Not being allowed to drive, just generally living a very different life, but having that thought in the back of my mind that it was all my fault! Of course, it WAS all my fault! This thought did not run through my mind that much, I think this was due to me feeling down and trying to deal with the physical and psychological problems that were rearing their head at the time.

I carried on going jogging and progressed with my physio at home, which Louise had upped and added some more complex balance exercises. She gave me a fitness ball for use during balance exercises and a wobble board - a board with a half sphere on the bottom, and a maze puzzle on the top. The idea was to direct a ball around the maze to the centre. This would be done by standing on each side of the board and rotating the sphere underneath by pushing your weight either side using balance and co-ordination. My friend, Alan, had also been on leave from work (army) and took me swimming a couple of times; we also had been to the field several times for a knock about with a football. The first time I kicked a ball since the accident was very strange. It was as if it was the first time I had ever kicked a football. Also, when I had the ball down at my feet and moved with it was a very strange feeling, as if it was all in slow motion? My limbs could all move the same as before, but somehow my head would not react or respond at the same speed. You could describe it as being the opposite of how an older person would feel playing football. Their head would know what it wanted to do, but their body, because of age, would not let them. I carried on going to football as much as I could, nothing competitive though. Training with the Boys Club, training with Central Pier and Sunday football. Everyone that was involved in these sessions at the time knew about my circumstances. So were quite cautious, and it was obvious to see in my game that I was still quite delicate. As the weeks went on, I was attending football more often. I found this slow motion feeling was easing off. Another problem I had noticed, that did not seem to be improving, was my eyes. In hospital, I had noticed, when reading the paper or the Get Well cards, that I had double vision. The nurses and doctor said that this may clear; they thought it may have been caused by my brain sending faulty messages between my eyes and the part of the brain that processes the images. Not only when reading was this a problem. It also hindered me during football. When I was tracking the ball through the air, it was almost double, making it near impossible to play with any sort of confidence. I went to the doctors and explained about my eyes. She made an appointment with the ophthalmologist (eye specialist). Meanwhile, I went to the opticians, where they tested my eyes and told me I had damaged a nerve in the back of my right eye. This caused my right eye to look at a different angle to my left; therefore I was viewing the newspaper/get well cards and football at two different points. Giving the impression I was seeing double. The optician told me that this would be a permanent fixture, and I would have to wear glasses with a prism in the right eye?!? I was gutted by this! I have never needed to wear glasses before, and saw this as something else I was likely to get ripped for! I also was unsure what this prism talk was all about?

Whats a prism? Were they going to give me big jam jars?? A week later, I went back to Specsavers to choose some glasses. The lady reassured me that they would just be normal looking lenses in whichever frames I chose. I was happy with this news, but still did not like the fact I would have to wear glasses from now on, and for the rest of my life! So I chose my frames and went away with them, still down that I would have to wear glasses! By this stage, Shirley, the occupational therapist, was involved in my rehab a lot more. We had started doing numerous tests on my concentration levels, problem solving and just generally how I could cope with problems and tasks that were put in front of me. Overall, throughout these tasks, I did not do too badly, and probably made mistakes by trying too hard, as I so badly wanted to get back to work and living a normal life again. As my life at the time consisted of lazing around the house with nothing to do. One thought that went through my mind a lot was How do these people that live life on the dole do this shit? It was boring! The term phased return to work was then mentioned by Shirley. As, by this point, my fatigue had leveled off and I could make it through the day without needing to sleep! A phase return was advised, to give me a slow but gradual return to work. She also told me I would start it on 2 hours a day. Again, in my head I was like TWO HOURS!!? Whats the point? This was my impatience again. So I started back on this 2 hours a day - got to work, made a brew, sat down, did a bit, and by the time I looked up at the clock, it was dinner time, and worse still, home time! The reason I was finished at dinner time was because I started at 10:30am. When this was proposed, I was, again, annoyed by this, as I thought All the lads will be in at 8:30, and heres me turning up at 10:30 and going home at 12:30! In my head this was just another thing that was going against me living a normal life again. But at least it was a start. (The reason I would start at this time is because; I had been having lie ins for the last 6 months! So my brain would not be used to getting up early in the morning.) I completed 2 hours a day for 2 weeks and then Shirley came into work and did a review. As everything was fine and going well, my hours could be upped. Shirleys plan was to go 3 hours a day and see how that went. Me being impatient and Mr. know it all I said - and pressured the situation, Can I not go to 4 hours a day? Shirley agreed with this. I am not sure what the normal procedure was, but I thought I knew best. So the weekend passed and I went into work all geared up for a half days work! I completed the 4 hours and felt ok. I then went to the gym and around half an hour after I had finished, I felt the dreaded feeling of fatigue, as described earlier.-unsteady, off balance - dizzy on my feet. I was gutted. As me getting this feeling was a sign that 4 hours work was too much. So the next day I dropped it to 3 hours a day. Work was fine with this, and was good to me all the way through this episode. I had been dropped down to half wages

until I had passed 4 hours a day, which was good as they could have paid me SSP, which is next to nothing. So from that point on, I increased my hours by just one hour at a time, every two weeks, and everything went fine. In total I had 6 months off work, 5 months at home and 1 month in hospital. It then took me 4 months to work my way back to full time hours. Throughout my time off, people were telling me Enjoy it, because youll wish you were off again when you get back! When I finally started back at work full time, I did not miss having time off at all! It felt like I had a purpose again, especially when I started back in the mornings. It felt good being stuck in traffic on my way in, as this was the normal life I had been craving. More than a year on, I dont! find it pleasant being in traffic jams, nor when the alarm is going off at silly o clock! But every now and then I think about how I was living and how it could have been worse, and that perks me up a little. I also tell people that if you had the money, and did not have to work, 2 hours a day would just be enough. Get in, have a brew and before you know it, be putting your coat back on again. The only thing that put a dent in my satisfaction of returning to work was I had difficulty with football training after a days work. As I had already fatigued my brain to its near limit, for me then to go and start running around, darting between cones, backwards and forwards, in and out, would bring on this feeling once again. I was told this was due to the pressure that I was putting on my cerebellum, as all these intense movements was more work for my brain, and it was already at its limit. So this training would be too much. And when I did have this feeling, it was near impossible to play football, as my balance and co-ordination was almost none existent. I managed to play three games in 2006-2007 season for Boys Club reserves. In these games, I came on from the bench, but I struggled with fitness and again co-ordination. My eyes were also a major issue as this double vision I was experiencing, hindered my confidence and was probably a main factor in my co-ordination being off. These games that I played were around the middle of that campaign, but after the 3rd game, I decided to leave it for that season, and start again next year and try and get hold of some sports glasses. I carried on with Sunday 5-a-side and kept going to the gym. Looking back on these games now I wonder how the hell I even played 20 minutes in these 3 games? As if I try and play football now without my sports glasses it is pretty much impossible to see the ball properly! At this point, most things had come together for me. Back to work, back in the gym, driving again and socializing with my mates again at the weekend. But I still see playing football regularly as the one thing Id like to check off.

I have noticed a number of changes in my life since the accident, and through reading and researching my injury, a number of sources say that a bang to the head, like mine, would/could turn you into a different person. To some extent that is true, even though I still have the same silly personality, where everything involves joking and messing around, and generally having a laugh. The changes I have noticed, that might not be obvious to others around me, go on and on, or at least I think they do? I did not really pay much interest to how I behaved or how my thoughts travelled around my brain before? But the changes that stand out are: I have strong views on things, and often find myself talking as if I am an expert on a certain subject. Which, of course, I am not! I dont know what has changed me to have these views? Maybe it is because I have had a near death experience? Or maybe it is thoughts and messages taking a different route through my brain now? I am definitely more careful now, and do not get up to silly games or tricks! Sliding down banisters, tackling traffic boxes or balancing on bollards. This is probably me just being more grown up? It is just a shame that it took what it did for me to grow up! Well, sometimes, I am grateful that it happened. I am not grateful for putting my family and friends through that awful time in hospital, but there are occasions when I am happy with the person it has made me. I am also more careful with my money. In fact, I am probably the complete opposite to how I was before! Again, this is probably me being more grown up, as before, my only concern was having enough money for the weekend and my beer. But now I do not like spending money, and often do not spent, if I think theres a cheaper option. There are also a few things that go on in my head at the moment that I see as problems not changes. - In a lot of circumstances, it feels as if people are against me and trying to test me. This could be the simplest thing as somebody asking the question Do you not remember? when I get asked something like this, the first thing that comes into my head is, Do they think I have a memory problem? - Or if I cant find something, one thing that pops into my head is, Has someone hidden it? These are nonsense thoughts half of the time, and hopefully will pass? I have recently found out Sept 07 that I have a form of depression, so a lot of these problems could all be down to that? I have been given some medication, so will see how that goes. This is again down to my accident, as I was happy go lucky before and did not really worry about my job or have thoughts that I am a failure and going no where in life?

One thing that is a major going on in my head now is how I analyse things? If someone comes to me in a good mood for example, I think to myself, Whats made him like this?, rather than just accepting the fact?!? Or I analyse the person as a whole before I even speak to them. Just by their body language or if I speak to them, by their tone of voice or what they say. And it sometimes goes deeper than that, by thinking about there up-bringing and so on. Maybe these thoughts and feelings will be here indefinitely? Only time will tell, as I have been told that it is still early days in my recovery from my accident. I am hoping that there will still be an improvement as the main problem that continues to arise is this balance issue. I have been going football training with all my friends for a new team this preseason - Freehold F.C, training started really early for us, so we could all get to know each other and bed in as a new team. I have been attending twice a week for around three months or so, and it has been going ok, I have found that I am back to a somewhere near decent standard when we are playing on the astro-turf, but recently we have had a couple of friendlys on real pitches, and it is like I am starting all over again, like I am learning again how to play in a proper football match, as it is completely different to playing on the astroturf - The pace of the game, in a positional sense and just the game in general is completely different, as you do not have much discipline on the astro-turf and do not have to worry about where you are on the pitch as much, as the game is much more relaxed. I have found that I have had to learn and practice a lot of the skills that I possessed before the accident again as I could not do them or they were not what they were before -The biggest one being walking and balance, -Also driving, when I had permission to drive again from the DVLA it was very strange, I physically knew how to work a car, the gears and such, but things like road positioning and awareness took some time to get back to how they were. -Football, this slow motion feeling when I had the ball took quite a lot of work and persistence to alleviate. Also things like kick ups and just my touch are still not right. -At work, tasks that came second nature were not so when I returned, and took a little time for me to get used to again. These differences are now present in my life as parts of the brain that helped to carry out

these tasks were damaged, so the messages travelling through my brain do not get to the place they did before or have had to take a different route, thats why I cannot do certain things or it will take time for me to learn again. I have conceded that I am not going to be back to where I was in a football sense for a while? Or maybe I will never be the same? But I have got plenty of time to play and it will just take time especially this season. So the more minutes I get as a sub the better really. I have also noticed I am getting ill a lot more, not the sought of illness that will keep me off work, just little colds- sore throats/sniffles/headaches etc. And when I get these little bouts this also affects my balance and co-ordination, so again football is not on the cards. This leads me on to another major talking point in my life of late (a talking point for me anyway), when I am ill or say I cant play football because my head is not feeling right or I feel dizzy, people do not really get it? they see me there in person but obviously cannot feel what I can in my head, I try and explain it, but most seem to shrug it off and put it down to me being soft. But that is not the case at all, because I want to play football as much as everybody else does and probably a little bit more, just to prove that I am back to where I was and living a normal life again. Maybe I am asking too much of people to try and fully understand what is going on with me at the moment? But it is not nice when people just dismiss it without trying. One thing that has seemed to crop up out of the blue of late (Sept 2007) is me getting really down, and feeling low. I think this is closely related to football and me not being how I was before and maybe just the simple fact that I have had a massive change in my life and the accident was a massive shock to my system. I have been to the doctors and talked several times to him about what is going on with these low moods I keep getting and also me being quite irritable at times, and he has told me I have depression, it was not easy to accept this at first, because there seems to be a stigma around depression and before my accident any psychological issues or matters did not interest me in the slightest. I have always been happy go lucky and care free, and had no problems with anything like this. The doctor has prescribed me some pills and over much debate I have decided to take them and see how it goes, because I do not want to carry on with these patches of feeling really low and down. I have also been waking up at stupid times through the night and not being able to get back to sleep this last week or two, this morning it was 02.30am, so I am living like an owl at the minute? This waking up early also goes against me for the activity I want to take part in the most, but is also a bit of a demon to me at the moment FOOTBALL because I am already dizzy and tired at work first thing in the morning, so by the end of the day when training arrives there is no chance of me being involved? The

doctor has said that these pills should also help with my sleeping patterns, so I guess its just fingers crossed and see how they go? This part of the story is where I am currently up to in the recovery from my brain injury and no doubt there will be many more things which occur in my life that are resultant from the accident, however long this recovery goes on for? And im sure it will be still brought up into conversation many times, people talking about it does not bother me, it is just when they make judgments and comments without really understanding whats going on!? The story of the after effects could probably go on and on, as I am now living with a new perspective on life and in some areas a different life, so am always experiencing changes and they will probably go on for the rest of my days? I am not sure when things will settle down and I can say - yes, this is who I am now, this is the true me. Because at the moment, as stated earlier I am still feeling some psychological problems that I am not happy with and hopefully with time these will settle down and I can live with a steady, calm, state of mind.