Woman rebuilds life after brain injury
Linda WellsA fall changed Linda Wells' life forever.While on a weekend trip to Catalina Island in 1992, Wells and her husband were riding in the back of a golf cart when the driver suddenly swerved, causing Wells to fall out and hit her head.
The impact jolted her brain forward and back, tearing and stretching cranial blood vessels. A blood clot the size of a lemon formed, compressing the brain. The entire right half of Wells' body was paralyzed.
She couldn't move, walk or talk and was airlifted to a hospital on the mainland where doctors told the family she'd probably remain in a vegetative state for the rest of her life.
"I was a drool person," Wells, now 59, said of her condition. "Because I was stuck in there, I couldn't communicate."
Over the next several years Wells underwent intensive therapy. In the period since the accident, the Camarillo resident has recovered the ability to walk and talk and care for herself but hasn't recaptured some abilities most people take for granted.
The mother of two and grandmother of three has lost her shortterm memory; some critical thinking, reasoning and cognitive skills; and the ability to organize her thoughts and make decisions and plans.
Those lost abilities mean that Wells doesn't remember her age or address; can't count money; may blurt out any passing thought that comes to mind, no matter how inappropriate; and doesn't grasp the concept of humor.
"I'm aware of all that I've lost," said Wells, who was forced to sell her medical billing company after the accident.
With the assistance of two parttime helpers and coping strategies learned in therapy, Wells gets through the day.
Like Wells, about 5 million Americans are in need of lifelong or long-term help as the result of a brain injury, experts say.
In Ventura County, brain injury has forced an estimated 16,000 residents to adapt to a new way of life, according to the Brain Injury Center in Ventura, the county's only nonprofit support organization especially for brain injury survivors.
The center provides information on brain injuries and community resources available to victims and their families.
"I always think that kind of information diminishes a tremendous amount of stress for the individual," said neuropsychologist Harriet Zeiner. A brain injury is "something that could happen to any one of us. That's how (the center) benefits the community."
A neuropsychologist is a clinical psychologist who specializes in treating people with neurological problems.
Cherie Phoenix, the center's executive director, said that most people tend to reach a plateau the first year after a traumatic brain injury and progress in smaller increments afterward. Wells, however, continues to make cognitive progress.
"Linda is unique," Phoenix said, adding that Wells is "a fighter" and "an inspiration" for keeping a positive attitude while doggedly rebuilding her life.
Wells said seeing a neuropsychologist has helped her adjust mentally to a new life that includes occasional seizures and requires considerable effort to accomplish the smallest of tasks.
She said she's accepted the fact she'll never be the same person she was before that day on Catalina.
Zeiner (who did not treat Wells) said not everyone is up to the task of rebuilding their life. Injury to the brain can result in lost circuitry that controls particular functions; rehabilitation trains another part of the brain to take that task over or teaches the person how to compensate for the loss.
That means arduous learning and tapping into whatever skills the injured person has left, she said.
"It always comes at a cost of energy," Zeiner said. "They do consciously what the rest of us do unconsciously."
Family affected
Zeiner said when someone in the family suffers a brain injury the effects ripple through the entire family. Whatever role that person filled must now be taken up by other family members, who must also care for the injured person.
"It really is a family disorder," Zeiner said.
Wells' husband, Rex, said the effects can devastate a family.
"In some ways, it's more of an impact than death," Rex Wells said.
When someone close to you dies, you grieve and eventually move on. But when a family member has a traumatic brain injury you don't have much time to grieve or adjust, he said.
Wells said that although he had to fight with the insurance company for coverage of much of the therapy his wife has received, she has improved because of it.
"She just kept plugging along," said Rex Wells, who retired from Southern California Edison several years after the accident. "She functions at a very high level."
Linda Wells' son Trent Taylor was a UCSB college student at the time of the accident. He moved back home for six months.
"It did impact us," Taylor said of his mother's injury. "It's been hard on the family; it's been a struggle."
Taylor, now a gastroenterologist who lives in Albuquerque, said his stepfather has done such a good job of supporting and caring for his mother that he didn't have to interrupt his education.
"I don't feel like I've lost my mom," Taylor said. "She's made amazing strides."
Triumph over tragedy
With so many limitations on the activities Linda is able to do, husband and wife like to focus on their victories and not the "can'ts."
"We're always looking for things we can do," Rex said.
"I've come far." Linda said. "I like this Linda most of the time."
Over time, she's discovered a love for public speaking. Once reluctant to talk about her injury, Wells now eagerly speaks to psychology students at a Santa Barbara college and at local Brain Injury Center events. Wells and Zeiner are scheduled to speak at the center's benefit dinner at Sterling Hills Golf Club in Camarillo on Oct. 26.
Wells said she now wants to go shopping alone, although she still needs her helpers to drive her around. Although she easily gets confused during simple sales transactions, she thinks she can handle impatient customers and salespeople. Wells said she'll speak to them honestly, explaining that she has a brain injury and she's doing the best she can.
Nonetheless, some people have been unkind, Wells said, assuming Wells' slurred speech and short steps mean she's drunk. Once, a woman accused Wells and her helper of fraudulently parking in a handicapped space. Wells cried when the woman said neither of them looked disabled.
"Don't judge people by these things," Wells said, holding up the blue state-issued placard. "They shouldn't be that way to anybody. We need their kindness, and we (the center) need their money, lots of it."
