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Saturday, January 25, 2014

WHY AM I STILL LIVING?

I have come up with my own reason that’s realistic/objective for this.
My idea is that I was in my best shape of my entire athletic life, I remember that I had reached a body-weight below the standard charts used to categorize high level athletes and the real reason why I survived my accident is that my body weight, fitness level, muscles tone and heart strength were above average for my age, that wasn’t advanced at all (42).
So my body rapidly recovered but for my brain nothing really could be done, given that’s still a science in need to be fully developed, so while my body wasn’t injured at all (8 years ago) my brain lost plenty neurons in the motor cortex and right occipital lobe areas, that means that I’m now hemi paretic on the left side of my body and have a field cut in my vision on the left (again!).
I think that I went through all the stages of the “after TBI” period as described in all the neurology text-books, aggressive and violent period, suicidal period (2 times) and depressive (that I’m still trying to take care of).
I’m still dealing however, with the complete refusal that a brain cannot be healed or repaired when injured; I cannot believe that we went to walk on the moon about 40 years ago and at the same time, we still have only research hypotheses, but no established, proven therapy on what to do in cases of TBI.

Too many times each day I ask to myself why am I still living when for Michele I died in 2005 and my family in Italy I’m just a big burden. Then I think – as everyone knows – to the real existence of God and that we were given the brain that isn’t the product of evolution but the receptor to be in touch with the creator of the universe, since the “big-bang” and this concept makes me pity any doctor (sadly even Ph.D.) who believes to be able to understand how someone thinks (uses the brain) when injured, in fact I’m now imprisoned and cannot live with my own family only because one of these “geniuses” assessed me as incapable to count to 3 and all of the money I’ve ever earned in my honest life of work across continents at the highest managerial levels is in the hands of a conservator who by age could be my daughter while my (still) very beloved wife (mankind cannot separate what God united) and mother of my treasures tries to survive with the little money I must give to her according to the sorry and bad divorce we had to do and her soon to end employment.

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