This page is intended to give you some idea of the types of problems our clients experience, how they obtained their brain injury and in some cases how they're working to overcome it. We hope this will give you an insight into our work and the reasons why brain injury is such a complex condition with which to deal.

Bernard

Bernard is a quiet and unassuming 60 year old gentleman who has grey hair and moustache and a slight stature. He really is the sweetest of individuals and very popular with all the staff and volunteers. Bernard's problems started when he was involved in a road traffic accident at the age of 20 years, which left him with minor short-term memory problems and epilepsy. This was exacerbated in 1999 when he had a seizure and fell over, banging his head hard on a concrete floor. He was unconscious for over half an hour and he was left with significant disability that affects his everyday life.

Bernard cannot now sign his name (which causes considerable frustration for him), he is unable to tell the time or sort money, and he can only write numbers up to 7. He has problems understanding simple instructions, such as 'turn it the other way round' and when he is undertaking an exercise he cannot grasp the concept of 'up' or down', 'in' or 'out'. However hard he tries, most tasks he undertakes are too difficult, he is unable to make progress, and this causes him to become vague and disinterested.

He experiences difficulties with all cognitive processes, i.e. thinking, memory, concentration, planning and using language. In particular he has difficulty in translating his thoughts into language - by the time he has thought of the words (if he succeeds that is) he has forgotten what he was going to say. He says he cannot understand why he is like he is and that it makes no sense at all not being able to express himself. "I fell like I'm in a dream and will wake up soon".

However, there are still things that he enjoys doing. He likes one-to-one discussions and exercises, although he becomes frustrated when he cannot communicate effectively. He enjoys listening to music, especially classical, and can often be seen humming and swaying to a CD. He likes jigsaw puzzles, small group sensory work, going out for walks, table tennis and swimming, but for a man who once held a responsible position his life is now one big frustration. It is unlikely to improve very much and his epilepsy can still arise, but at least Headway is able to give him an outlet, somewhere to relax and be appreciated for what he now is.

Charlie

Unless you knew him well you wouldn't realise that Charlie had a brain injury at all. He is a strapping 63 year old who looks fit and well. He is jovial and sociable, with a keen sense of humour, and he enjoys the cut and thrust of mixing with the other live-wires at Headway. He can hold lengthy, articulate conversations, and debates in a spirited fashion. So all is well then.

Well, not quite. Back in 2001, whilst taking rubbish to a compacting machine, a pallet fell and smashed into the back of his head. His injury has actually left him with a range of problems, none of which are immediately obvious. For example, he can lose his balance, has hearing problems which necessitate him wearing a hearing aid, and he regularly suffers from severe headaches.

Charlie used to be a very cheerful chappie, and outwardly he still is. But his problems result in bouts of depression and he can become quite irritable. He says he cries a lot, although this is not something the staff have experienced at Headway - Charlie is probably too proud to display such emotions to others.

Despite his condition Charlie has some considerable strengths. He likes organising things and will often bring ideas and objects that he would like Headway to try out. He is a talented artist and produces meticulously detailed drawings. He usually initiates his own work and likes to see projects through to the end, gaining great pride from a job well done. His artisitic bent also translates into the kitchen, where he revels, and he has produced some deliciously interesting sweets. But you can't make Charlie do anything he doesn't want to. We've tried to interest him in going swimming, but he says it's against doctor's orders - we have our suspicions.

Once Charlie extends his attendance to two days a week we hope to be able to develop his skills and turn him into a client helper, in which role he will be a great boon, as he is well loved and respected by everyone.

Simon

Simon is a tall, slim, dark haired 24 year old, always immaculately dressed, with a lovely rewarding smile. He had a road traffic accident back in 1998, which left him blind in one eye, together with short-term memory loss, difficulties in planning (leaving things unfinished) and only being able to cope with one job at a time.

He has extreme difficulties in managing his anger, but has had some cognitive behaviour therapy which has allowed him to develop strategies for coping. This usually means he will walk away when frustration builds up, and sometimes he will hit something like a wall outside to relieve his intense feelings.

Simon is very sensitive to comments directed at himself and people he cares about, and this usually results in a bout of anger. He says he feels protective of people, but doesn't have much tolerance or patience. He likes playing snooker, table tennis and being involved in one-to-one discussions. He revels in feeling secure and useful, and he has become a client helper so he can fulfill that need. He has recently taken to working on the computer and now produces a newsletter and some of the paperwork needed by the staff. Headway gives him something he is unable to obtain anywhere else - some purpose in life and his self esteem.

Carl

It was early morning in September 1991. I was driving along the A303 and because it was so early there were only two cars on the road, but somehow we managed to collide head-on. Neither of us remembers anything about the accident because we both sustained head injuries, and the police have never been able to work out what happened either.

I was trapped for 31/2 hours and the rescuers had to get a crane to right my car, which had turned on to its roof. I was taken to Yeovil Hospital and after surgery to stabilise my condition I was placed in intensive care, where I remained fixed in a frame and unable to move for a month. I came out of my coma after a couple of days. Altogether I stayed in Yeovil Hospital for 31/2 months before being transferred to the head injury unit at Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. I returned home on 1st February, but I had to have a bed downstairs because I was still unable to walk upstairs.

The fact that I could not remember anything about the accident was actually part of a greater problem - I was unable to remember anything that had happened to me throughout the last ten years of my life. My short term memory was also affected - for example, I had great difficulty remembering peoples' names, and if I read a book I couldn't remember what was written at the top of the page by the time I'd reached the bottom. I also needed to sleep for much of the day and when I did anything I was told I worked very slowly.

When I returned home my wife had to look after me as well as our four children, and she was finding it very difficult to cope. After a year she decided she no longer wanted to live with me, so she divided our money and arranged to have my old business premises converted into a bathroom and kitchen for me. (Prior to the accident I had my own computer business). I then moved in there and someone I knew bought the business. I was still having a nurse attend to my injuries 7 days a week and I remained under the Consultant Neurologist, but both physically and mentally I was improving.

My wife started divorce proceedings and the judge gave her just about everything, except the premises where I was living, and ordered me to pay my wife's very substantial legal costs. He said I did not need any finances as the state would look after me. That really was a low point.

But not everything in my life has collapsed - indeed I would say it is now quite rosy. I have a new hip, so my mobility is greatly improved, and I also have a new partner, who has encouraged and supported me in going to college, where I successfully completed my 'Certificate of Education' and several computer courses, including four 'Microsoft Office User Specialist' qualifications. I work part-time for Headway as a tutor and run my own business again, as well as working at SCAT within a section dealing with those who have, like me, suffered a brain injury.

My brain injury was, without doubt, a life-changing event for many people, not just myself, but even with such a devastating accident there can still be life at the end of the tunnel - you just have to be positive and have the support of those around you.

Alastair - a Carer's tale

My husband Alastair had two cardiac arrests in January, 2001. He was rushed to Yeovil District Hospital and spent 5 weeks in their cardiac unit, but during that time it became clear that the trauma of these two events had caused significant brain damage, and Alastair would never be the same again.

At Yeovil the staff started the rehabilitation process. Alastair had to relearn such simple functions as sitting, walking and feeding himself, as well as going to the toilet. He was eventually transferred to the head injury unit at Alfred Morris House in Musgrove Park Hospital, Taunton, and during the four months he spent there he underwent intensive physiotherapy and occupational therapy, again to help him relearn simple life skills. He finally returned home in August that year.

The worst problem Alastair experiences is in relation to his short term memory. We have had to develop a strict routine as Alastair needs constant prompting throughout the day to remind him to do things.

In many respects I am quite lucky as a carer, because Alastair not only attends Headway on Tuesdays and Fridays, but he also goes to another day centre two other days a week. He also has a home carer for 3 hours on the other day, so compared to many carers I am particularly fortunate, as I have plenty of respite time, during which I can do things I need or want to do. Our home carer has in fact become a friend to both of us. He takes Alastair out for walks, watches videos with him, reads, plays chess and helps him with crosswords and quizzes.

Alastair's attendance at Headway has been a great benefit to both him and myself. It is a very supportive group and Alastair not only has fun but is also stimulated during the hours he spends there. I am content on the days that I have to myself, knowing he is happy and having A1 care.

The past two years for me have been a series of ups and downs. No one could prepare me for what has happened. I have learned to become a nurse, carer, decorator, taxi driver and bank manager, but with the support of family, friends and the various other people involved in Alastair's care, life has become a little easier.

The hardest part is missing the man that loved me, surprised me sometimes, spoiled me sometimes and argued with me sometimes. He is a completely different person now to the one I married 26 years ago. Even though I have time to myself I nevertheless miss my own space, as Alastair can never be left alone when I am with him. I can no longer just get up and go out when I feel like it or even relax in the bath in case Alastair decides to wander. I have to be constantly aware of Alastair's needs. I still love him as much as ever I did, but it is so much more stressful than our time before that fateful day two years ago.

Katherine

It all started for me in 1996. I was out horse riding, but I don't really know what happened - I believe we were hit by something, although what it was I have no idea. Nobody stopped and I am unable to recall anything so it’s all guess work. From what we’ve been told, by the person who found us, it seems I may have been hit by a Land Rover type vehicle with a trailer, but my horse is OK in traffic with the exception of quad bikes, so was that what hit us? I really don’t know.

Whatever it was, me and the horse parted company. I must have fallen on my head, because I fractured my skull and I was in a coma for several weeks. I can't even remember the hospital, just coming out into the big world again. I was signed off sick for a week, so I thought I'd be back to work in a couple of weeks, but how wrong I was.

The problems arising from my brain injury are numerous. I lack enthusiasm for everyday things - for example, its too difficult to get the car serviced (because it’s not important) or to cut the grass. I no longer have a sense of feeling, yet I can get very emotional for no real reason. A major problem for me is that I need to sleep at least twelve hours on any ‘normal’ day and longer if I’ve been doing something unusual, like attending Headway. When I say sleep, I mean dead to the world.

At other times my hands and legs will go to sleep but I can't feel it, so I don’t know until I try to use them. My memory is abysmal, so in the short term I have to rely on notes and calendars, although my longer term memory is coming back with certain stimuli. Often I can’t find the right words to say when my head gets tired - I know what I’m trying to say but the words just don’t come out.

My circulation doesn’t work properly, so my head and shoulders are often sweating while my hands, knees and feet are freezing cold, but again I don’t feel it. Messages don’t get through quick enough, so if I turn my ankle over and fall down my head is telling my ankle to turn back (to stop me falling down) when I’m trying to get up. As a consquence I can’t get up so I have to stay sitting down for about fifteen minutes. I could get cold outside in the winter grooming my horse, but my head doesn’t tell my body that it’s cold for a couple of hours. By then I’m back indoors and warm enough, but my body thinks its cold, so I have to be careful that I don’t overheat and yet sit shivering, when I’m not really cold.

All these problems have had a major effect on my confidence and self esteem. I've become afraid of meeting new people, or going to new places and as a consequence there has seemed to be no purpose in life and not much reason for living.

After going through loads of departments at various hospitals, the 'heavy workshop' in Yeovil Hospital suggested Headway to me. I was scared it was yet another step, more strangers, and I didn't know if I would be accepted. But I needn't have worried.

Lynne, the Co-ordinator at Yeovil, came to visit me at home, which was quite scary because it was yet another stranger in my house. She persuaded me to go along and try it out, but after the first time I was so frightened that the next week I never woke up in time to go. I just didn't have the confidence.

But 6 months down the line, what a difference. Everything there is different, even on bad days, because everybody understands - there's no explaining to do, no need for apologies or to hide. Many of us show no outward physical signs of a brain injury, so people often don't understand the problems you have, just in getting through each day. But that doesn't matter here because the whole place helps you to be positive, gives you confidence, helps you live for today and appreciate there really is a tomorrow.

Everybody is so friendly. Together we're 'normal', there's always somebody to talk to, ways of finding out information you need to help you, and being here helps you realise there are so many people who are worse off than you.

So thanks to Headway I have regained my confidence and I'm able to mix with people again, not just at Headway but also out in the community at large. I even produce their monthly newsletter now. I'm not the same person I was, and never will be, but I'm coming to terms with my problems and I don't feel utterly useless any more. Headway has given me purpose, commitment, a sense of reality, a friend, somewhere I can hide if I need to. It's given me my life back. Thanks Headway.