Inspiration
The Inspiration page is divided into the following areas;
Stories of Hope and Inspiration - Hear from others as they tell their story and maybe gain some hope/inspiration.
Just Joe Blogs - I write and post semi-regular blogs discussing living with a brain injury and the lessons and strategies I've learned.
Just Joe Videos - As a hobby I've created a couple of short videos designed to make people think. I will also include any videos I find that may help to inspire.
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An amazing piece done by TSN about Matt Dunigan and his struggles.
Solitary Confinment
This is truely an awesome story about never giving up.
Hello Joe,
I was reminded that I promised to write down my story for you. Well from what I was told it happened in the early spring of 2004. This is when I suffered a lung failure due to a pulmonary embolism. This is what happens, blood clots form in the legs, usually, and when they break apart tiny particles will flow through the blood stream. It is at this point that they become dangerous. If large enough they can lodge themselves into an artery and cause a flow stoppage, almost like stopping up a drain with grease. Our lungs have tiny little veins that act as pumps as they feed blood into the tissue; this action is what allows the lungs to remain inflated.
It was this break down of clots that caused my lungs to collapse. I was found in my pick-up truck in a parking lot. Little was really known as to how long I was there it was assumed that I may have been there for more than 20 hours as some people were aware of my truck and me sitting there. The police called E.M.S as they managed to gain entry to my truck by forcible means as it was locked. It was assumed that I had passed away as they were unsuccessful in their attempts to revive me. They did not really know what had happened or what actually caused my heart to stop. The EKG machine had malfunctioned and they unable to determine a heart rhythm. With they’re stethoscopes could not hear any beating so they drew the only conclusion they could and that was that I had pass on.
They brought me to the hospital in Vernon and dropped me for the coroner to do an autopsy. While I was laying on a bed in the hall waiting for someone to take me to the morgue, a doctor passing by felt that something was not right and reached down and lifted the sheet off my face, this is when I sat up right and blood came pouring and spraying out of my mouth. There was panic as they tried to understand what was happening to me. It was my good fortune that the doctor that felt there was something wrong. She happened to be a respiratory specialist.
She stated that after several minutes and listening to the blood gurgling in my lungs that she was able to guess that something was wrong with my lungs. She cut me with a knife into my side just below my armpit and stuck a tube in to drain away the fluids that had built up in the cavity where my lungs once were. They were then able to attempt treatments; this proved to be a great challenge for them as I was so weakened by the whole ordeal that I fell into a coma.
While in a coma my heart succumb 8 different times and I had to be defibrillated back. There was deep concern that I had suffered massive brain damage due to the lack of oxygen they felt that if I survived I would in a vegetated state the rest of my life. After 9 months in the coma I came back to reality, I knew nothing of what had happened or where I was or who I was. I had no knowledge at all. I slipped away again as fluid started to fill around my lungs once again the battle to survive was on me, and an army of doctors’ bent on saving my life.
They finally succeeded in keeping me alive long enough for the treatments to start having a positive effect on me. Several days later I awoke into a strange world of things I did not understand, like basic speech, walking, what I was looking at. I still remember these moments, as this is when my world started. It did not take to long before I was able to understand what people were saying to me I was then able to start reading. There were plenty of nurses and doctors to help me with my new life. They were very surprised to learn the only damage caused by my ordeal was the loss of memories up to the point I woke up. It was around the ninth week of my recovery that I was rushed into intensive care again. What had happened was that in the night my heart stopped again and this time there was little chance of coming back. They worked on me with defibrillators and needles in the heart. They shoved tubes down into my lungs to force air in. They finally had to perform a surgical technique that enabled them draw out the fluids from my lung cavity allowing the lungs to re-inflate.
I woke up a couple of days later unaware of what had happened. I spent the better part 2005 in the hospital recovering and relearning life. My sister was a great inspiration and help to my recovery, as I did not know anyone from my past; she came and claimed me. It was with her protection that I was able to start re-gaining what was once my life. I think that it is very strange to follow a conversation with people who are remembering they’re past as a child and the only memory of my past is that of someone leaning over me and asking me if I knew where I was or who I am. At the time I really did not understand what it was they were saying me.
Once I had gained enough strength I discovered that I was a good driver so I chanced a job driving a truck, this was all right as long as I stay away from to much stress, because along with loss of memory I also suffered from loosing 2/3rds of my lung capacity, in other words, I lost 1 lung and almost half of the other. So it does not take to much effort to cause me to start hyperventilating and choking. I find that I have a lot of trouble around smoke, cold air and stressful events.
I don’t complain; as I am just very happy to have a second chance to live and perhaps help others in some way have a better life.
I believe that I am the luckiest man on earth.
Here I am in 2008, I have been able to stay out of the hospitals for more that a year and I have a great job that is designed to work with me and everyone else employed there. I have a home and another chance at discovery as learn what it is like to own and operate a small business, but most of all I have a girlfriend that will stand by me and help me as I continue to recover.
I guess if could share just one piece of thinking, I would have to say that everyone should feel that, they too, are the luckiest people on earth, as there are those who don’t stand a chance to recover from their ailments.
We’ve got it good
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This is the story of a close friend of Just Joe's, it's amazing! I hope it inspires.
It was late September, 1981. I had just started my final year of High School. Little did I know what was in store for me over the next 6 months.
The day was like any other fall day on the west coast. The sun was out, birds hadn’t started their migration south yet and the smell of summer was still in the air. I was with my Community Resources class (the Grade 12 equivalent to Phys Ed) and we were playing a game of soccer. I had the ball and was racing down the sidelines when suddenly I fell. There wasn’t a player around me and I hadn’t tripped over my own feet …. I just lost my balance and fell. I also lost the ball. I was ushered off the field and taken to the school nurse for a severe case of field rash (we only had gravel fields). I could not figure out what had happened.
Over the next 3 months, I started to experience headaches, the likes of which I had never felt. Each headache was worse than the one previous. The headaches were accompanied with blurred vision, loss of balance, decreased appetite and the need for sleep – lots of it. On Jan 2, 1982, my mother (who just happens to be an OR nurse - she has since retired) said that something wasn’t right and took me to see our GP. We went there and after checking me out, he immediately made an appointment for me to see a neurological specialist the next day (don’t forget, this was the early 80’s – there was no such thing as a “waiting list”).
The specialist saw me the next day and he checked EVERYTHING. He ran a battery of neurological tests and then took my parents outside the room and said “Geoff is a very sick young man – he needs to go to a hospital … NOW. I believe he has a brain tumor”.
I was admitted to St Paul’s Hospital on Jan 4, 1982 and was immediately sent for a CAT scan (MRI’s were still in the theoretical stage – their first use was not until 1985). The scan showed that I had a walnut sized grade 1 astrocytoma. The neurologist was right – it was a brain tumor. It was located on the stem against the skull. The doctor figured that I had been born with the tumor as the bones that formed my cranium had formed around it. For some unknown reason, the tumor became active.
The CAT scan also found that I had an acrachnoid cyst in the right frontal lobe of my skull. This lemon sized cyst was growing and pushing against the ventricles and that was the cause of my massive headaches. I was scheduled for 2 operations – the first to remove the cyst and the second to remove the tumor. My headaches were now so bad that I was getting a 60mg shot of codeine every 3 hours, but the pain persisted. The doctor could not prescribe a higher dosage as this would mask my neurological vital signs.
I was wheeled into the OR on Jan 6 for the first operation – the removal of the cyst. This involved installing a shunt which is a fancy term for a bilge pump. This would take the excess fluid from my ventricles and funnel it down a tube running down the right side of my head and torso to my stomach where the stomach acid would eat it away. The doctors later told me that if the shunt or tubing ever bothered me, he could just rip it out. Nice terminology, Doc.
My second operation came 2 days later. My neurosurgeon told me that just before I went under I asked him “Doc, if you mess this up, does this go as a black mark on your record?” Apparently, I cracked the entire room up with that remark. One of my best and I don’t remember it.
After I was wheeled out of the second operation, I remember lying in recovery and opening my eyes to see my mother. I asked for a glass of water and was told that I could not have water, but they could give me ice. I remember eating the ice, and then taking a bite of the Styrofoam cup – I was hungry.
After I was wheeled up to ICU, I asked mom why I couldn’t move my head. I was told that the muscles in my neck needed time to heal as they had just been put through the wringer.
As one day ran into the next, I got better and soon I was walking around the entire hospital floor. I had nurses coming into my room saying that they were going for pizza and asking me if I wanted a slice or two.
One of my best memories while convalescing was that every morning I would find a gift on the night table. It could have been a word puzzle book, some gum, or even once …. a piggy bank. There would always be an inspirational message attached with each and every gift and they did wonders for my spirit. To this day, I still do not know the name of my benefactor … but I have my suspicions. Sister Mary Stewart, I don’t know if it was you but I do know that you made constant visits to me and you always had a kind word to share. I am sure you are looking from above with that smile that was always on your face. Thanks!
I never realized just how close I had become until I learned about Marco. I shared an ICU room with him. He was the same age I was with the same type of tumor I had only his tumor was ¼ inch farther in the brain than mine was. He never saw his graduation. He died.
It was then that it hit me. It was then that I started to cry. It was then that the emotional flood gates were opened. I survived.
St Paul’s is a teaching hospital and as such, I had student nurses around me from time to time learning. One of the students was present when the stitches in the back of my neck were being removed and she was told to take some out. Everything was fine until I heard “oops” come out of the student’s mouth. I looked at my dad (who was in the room with me) and he looked at the senior nurse. She looked at my father and said “Would you mind leaving sir, you’re making the student nervous”. My father (a priest of some 20 years at that time) was very soft-spoken and said, “I think not. I would prefer to stay in the room to make sure that no more “oops”’s happen”. 208 stitches came out with nary an “oops” to be heard again.
When I was first admitted to St Paul’s, Dr Griesdale (my neurosurgeon) promised me that I would walk out of that hospital. I held him to his word and on Jan 20, 1982 I did, indeed, walk out of that hospital.
I was at home for a month and in that time I formulated the building blocks of how I would live my life. Not what I would do with it, but how I would live it. Over the years, these have been refined and they will continue to be refined until I pass on. The one main mantra I always say to people:
Every day is a good day for the sole reason that I am are here to experience it.
Everything that happens this day is a blessing. I am glad I am here to be a part of it.
I went back to school on Feb 15, 1982 thinking that it was a lost cause. With over 45 days of school missed, how could I ever make that up? I decided not to give up. I thought that if the doctors and nurses took that attitude, I wouldn’t be here. I put every effort I had into making sure that I was part an active part of the grad class of 1982. I ended up with 17 course credits for graduation (14 is all that is needed to graduate). I graduated with a high C+ average.
FOOTNOTE: I have since gone back for follow-up CAT scans in 1987, 1992 and 1997. No sign of the tumor exists and I have been given a clean bill of health
My biggest thanks goes to my parents. When I was in the hospital, they were the first people I saw when I woke up and the last people I saw when I went to sleep. They were with me every single waking hour of every single day for two weeks. They never sugar coated anything. If I had a question, mom would answer it (neurosurgery was her forte at work). The one thing I never saw from them was a tear. Not once did I see them cry, although I know that they were worried sick.
I would be remiss if I did not thank my brother & 2 sisters for fending for themselves and putting up with my parents for this time period (I’m sure they were emotional train-wrecks).
And finally, I HAVE to thank the three people who made sure I am still around today:
Dr Keith Chambers (my GP)
Dr Michael Jones (my neurologist)
Dr Donald Griesdale (my neurosurgeon)
Without ANY of the people listed above, the outcome could have been much different than what it is.
Thank you all.
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HERE'S MY STORY
Saturday August 21, 1999 will always be a special day in my life. On this day I got up and headed off to host a company sponsored Forklift and Truck Safety Rodeo. It was kind of ironic that the day was about safety. Because it was on this day, the day of my 17th wedding anniversary that my life would change forever.
Despite it being my anniversary I was off to host this event but promised my wife I would be home to take her out to dinner to celebrate this special day. I had a secret dinner planned followed by an evening at the races.
The event had gone very well and was a success. However, while waiting for the company who had supplied an event tent to come and pick it up a freak storm started brewing, and quickly. The wind was beginning to gust and the tent began to tip, at this time I called the tent company to warn them their tent may blow away. At that point the tent tipped towards me so I decided to move around the tent to be safe, big mistake. As I walked around the tent a gust of wind picked the tent up and in doing so a guide rope from the tent wrapped around my wrist and took me with it. I have no memory of this but people said I was lifted off the ground and thrown for about 20 feet landing on my head.
At this point I have a vague recollection of someone standing over me, then being in the ambulance and finally in the hospital. Other than a couple broken ribs, bruised lungs and multiple bumps and bruises I broke nothing. I remember picking gravel out of my hair but the doctors did not x-ray my head, in fact there was no mention of my head in any report. I was released from hospital later that night and went home to recover.
I spent 6 week recovering from the physical injuries but the whole time was having problems in my head that I could not understand. Finally, I was physically ready to go back to work. I was only working on limited duties and was told to only work on the upcoming 2000 department budget. This is something I had done for 10 years and yet I was really struggling. I couldn’t remember things, I couldn’t explain how I came about some of my numbers and I was extremely tired with constant headaches.
About a week after I was back the company nurse came in to check on me. As I started to explain the issues I was having I broke down and started crying uncontrollably. She then started to ask me some questions and within a couple of minutes said to me that I was done working and she called the doctor for an immediate appointment. That was the last day I worked at my job.
It was this simple conversation with the nurse asking a few questions that helped her recognize the potential of a brain injury. It was confirmed by my doctor that this was a strong possibility. It took several weeks after that to get a CAT scan but at that point there could very well be nothing to see as so much time had passed from the original injury. And due to the type of injury any insurance that was available to me was tough to get. Simply put, they had limited exposure to brain injuries and so they were less than willing to pay. I was fortunate to get a case worker with WCB that helped me above and beyond the call of duty.
I spent the next several months struggling with my injury as I did not understand what was wrong with me and how to deal with it. I had severe bouts of anger, depression, sleeplessness and sleepiness. With every passing day without help I felt myself sinking into what I now call the ‘BLACK HOLE”.
It wasn’t until the following April that I was set up with a psychologist who in all likelihood saved my life. He gave me a place to go to talk and where someone was concerned about me and not worrying about insurance payouts. John may not have understood brain injuries but he took the time to listen and he gave me some coping strategies such as meditation and self talking. He helped keep the destructive thoughts in check.
Thirteen months after my accident I finally was set up with a place that understood brain injuries and offered rehabilitation. The company was CNS, Community Neuro-rehab, they are truly an amazing company. They first help you accept that you have a brain injury which in some ways is the hardest part, then help you understand all the symptoms and finally, help you rehab. Don’t get me wrong this is the toughest thing you will ever have to do but it is worth it. The single biggest thing you will have to do is accept the injury and the changes in you it has caused. Once you do that you will then start on the road to recovery, but until you do that you will be stuck in the “BLACK HOLE”. I bet I lost 3-6 months fighting the fact I had a brain injury.
Finally, after one and a half years in the program I graduated happy and looking forward to the new challenges in my life. My wife left me as she could not deal with the changes and my kids had to endure much sorrow during this time. But guess what, I didn’t let those things slow me down I just kept pushing forward.
Now 8 years later, I have found myself the love of my life, my kids are doing great with my daughter in University and my son finishing grade 12 before heading to college. And let’s not forget my job. CPx took me in and stood beside me while I adjusted to my shortcomings as a result of the accident. Jim, Rilla, Glen and Linda are 4 very special people in my life who may never really know what they mean to me.
I am an aquired brain injury survivor who wants to make a difference. No one understands a brain injury other than another brain injury survivor, and that is what Just Joe Image is about.
Just Joe is a place people can go to find hope and inspiration when
dealing and living with a brain injury. The more people to get involved
with Just Joe the more all brain injury survivors visiting the site can
benefit.
Why the pictures? Simple, I found an ability and love for photography
after my accident. My wish is my pictures (images) can give hope and
inspiration to other survivors that good can come out of the tragedy of
the brain injury. I sell my pictures to help fund my website.
If you know anyone who has suffered a brain injury please direct them to www.justjoeimage.com where they may find hope and inspiration.
I share my story and have this web site to offer hope to anyone who has suffered a brain injury or any life altering injury. We can learn from each other.
Just Joe
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Frustration or Acceptance, which is it?
Your Brain and a Few Million Dollars
I got the music in me. I think.
Click on the links below to view some videos I have created.
Words of Inspiration - I've been thinking about life a lot lately.
Funeral for a Friend - a video on thinking about life from the Just Joe perspective.Are You a Tigger? - A tribute to the late Randy Pausch. As well, I did this video for a friend of mine who is dealing with some stressful times, keep bouncing.
Here is a very informative video from the Brain Injury Association of Canada.
Just Joe is about sharing. Sharing stories, ideas or support. With that in mind I would love to hear from you, feel free to contact me at,
Just Joe
