Deb Brandon: Living in Radiant Color

Beyond Brain Injury

Life during the Pandemic–Visiting Family, Friends, and Other Animals

January 3, 2022

We had to take a COVID test within 72 hours of travel, i.e. on Friday morning. Uh oh—the results were only guaranteed to arrive within one to two business days. I.e. there was a distinct possibility that they wouldn’t arrive before our flight.

Pandemic Hugs–Life in the Time of COVID

November 14, 2021

Then came the day when we were both fully vaccinated—we could resume our walks. Speaking on the phone, finalizing our plans for a walk in the nearby nature reserve, it sudden

Happily Ever After: A Tale of Brain Injury

October 31, 2021

She lived happily ever after.
Or so she thought
Brain bleeds and subsequent surgeries ended the life she knew and her dreams of the future.
In the wake of the surgeries, she struggled to reclaim her place in the world, to regain the life she lost.

New World Emerging–Post-Pandemic

August 25, 2021

I’m sure that some point soon, I will feel comfortable grocery shopping. I try to tell myself that I will be able to visit my parents in the foreseeable future. I hope that the hatred will wane, that it isn’t symptomatic of the beginning of the breakdown of society.

Three Little Fishies

August 2, 2021

I fought to zero in on the technician’s voice. “Her head is down. So that’s good news.”
Where did she see the head? Up or down, all I could see were shapeless blobs. She was saying something else. I tried to focus on her words. Perhaps she’d clue me into the secret language of the ultrasound.

10 Things I Don’t Like (in no particular order)

July 24, 2021

I’ve never really like crowds. But now, unlike in my pre-bloody brain life, I can’t tolerate them. I can’t process high volumes of information in a timely fashion. All data comes in with equal value, whether it is a loud shriek or a soft murmur. All colors seem garish, blinding, and all tactile input is harsh to the touch. Everything is a blur, without shape, chaotic. I can’t make order out of the chaos. I have nothing to anchor me and my incoherent thoughts. My brain lacks the ability to file information away under recognizable labels.

10 Things I Especially Like (In No Particular Order)

June 21, 2021

Gus’s a funny little thing, a mutt, smarter that I could have imagined. He teases me, changing the rules of games as we play, laughing at me from the top of the steep hill in my back yard, squeaking his toy as he tries to tempt me to clamber up the slippery slope to wrestle the toy away from him.

Crash Cart

June 8, 2021

I remember that they called for some sort of code. I remember wondering whether the code was for me. I also remember convulsing, and feeling a hand on my shaking leg and a voice saying, “It’s okay.” The next thing I remember was a near death experience, and then waking up to a dark room, puzzled.
According to Cindy, there was a crash cart. How did she know? Was bringing one standard when they called for a code? Did they use it?

Excitement on the Road

May 23, 2021

A car full of Santas.

The Bloody Brain vs. the Bloody Brain

May 9, 2021

And…The Bloody Brain wins—the gains outweigh the losses by far. I wouldn’t want to repeat the experience, but I’m actually glad it happened.