Severe Brain Damage

I function quite nicely. I’ve graduated with a BS (appropriate eh?) in Creative Writing and earned a Masters’ degree in humanities (Folklore). Working now on PhD, yep, Doctor Bacon! My basic skills, reading, writing, communicating are, if anything, even better than they were before my accident. But it seems I’ve lost a very important element of my core. The intensity is gone.

And so here I sit, having planned a new avenue, for too many years. Book to write, website to design, network to construct, but no fire in the kiln. Where’s Tony Robbins? 

Having been Superman for over 50 years the world of the handicapped was a place I never expected nor was prepared to be a member of, but here is where I awoke. In a hospital bed, not knowing what happened, not remembering vast segments of my life. I didn’t remember that I was a paramedic, that I had grandchildren, that I’d sold my Harley, that my sister (best friend) had passed away. A new world indeed and not necessarily a good one. 

In the beginning what I went through was perfectly typical. Somewhere between I don’t care and depression. I had absolutely no motivation, no desires nor goals. It was just a matter of sitting and staring at the TV, and making life miserable for Kimmie (what a blessing!). My stagnant existence was spiced with the introduction of memories I’d lost. More on that later. I was perfectly content in my new world, but those around me were not.

My Cache Valley family was based on the seeds planted by my grandfather who had moved from Alton, Kansas to Utah many years before. An interesting move and a true adventure. To come to Utah, the land of the Mormons, and to make that move at a time during which “outsiders” were not completely welcome in Utah. 

His first job was as a pharmacist at ZCMI in Salt Lake City. My Grandfather was a Mason and wore a Masonic ring which the ZCMI hiring agent mistook for a Mormon symbol. Joseph Smith was a 13th degree Mason and there are a tremendous lot of similarities between Freemasony and the Mormon organization. Smith’s father and older brother, Hyrum, were also Freemasons all living in an area which was swept with anti-Masonic fervor, which probably had a hand in the Mormons moving across the country to a new, unpopulated area where their religioun could be practiced in peace. In any case, once it was realized that my grandfather was not a Mormon, his employment at ZCMI came to an end. Various moves ended up with Grandpa Bill living in Richmond, Utah, and owning a general drugstore there. The store included, among many wondrous things for me, including an old fashioned, authentic soda fountain and a candy store, what would later become an even bigger interest, a State Liquor Store. By the time of my accident all but the liquor store had been closed, Grandpa Bill had passed on. and my father, Terry owned and operated what was left, a liquor store.

In spite of my limitations there was enough of me left that I could run the liquor store and my father granted me the tremendous courtesy of putting me to work there, and I was good at it. My previous life had been one based on adventures I was no longer capable of, but I was still a fairly skilled social character and I could drink! It takes little imagination to construct an image of a (mentally) 12 year old boy, running a liquor store. And so it was.

In spite of the booze and endless partying, it also provided exercise for my damaged brain. During this period I also began attending University. This started out as me participating in a Graduate class  designed to teach the students how to deal with the handicapped. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was there as an example of the handicapped. 

So here I am, a severely brain damaged, one-legged old man beginning a college adventure, which after a lifetime of making fun of the academic world, I came to enjoy thoroughly. The result of this was a completely natural and highly effective method of reforging the pathways which the brain damage had wounded. I graduated, having earned English Student of the Year award during my senior year, and then going on to earn an MA in humanities (Folklore), and am currently working on PhD. Yep, Doctor Bacon!

And I find myself here, writing another book and putting together a website to help others who’ve been through the same, and more importantly, their friends and families. (I’m so sorry Kimmie!)

The old life is gone, what I didn’t piss away, has mostly evaporated. And, here I am in a new world with new hope for the future.