My love-hate relationship with the calendar

For the past 6 weeks, I've used a day planner to structure my day.  My day planner is the tool that allows me to prioritize what I need to do and plan my time effectively.  I need to balance high complexity and/or high value activities (paying bills, scheduling transportation, completing insurance paperwork, setting up meds for the dogs, rehab homework) with adequate breaks.  Without these breaks or rests, my brain gets over-worked and I crash...mentally, physically, and emotionally...and I make errors.  I've gotten proficient at knowing how long I can work on something before needing a break.  I'm good at re-prioritizing on the fly when things don't go as planned.

The day planner lets me look back and see my progress.  The days I spent at rehab or did my rehab exercises at home.   The tasks I've accomplished.  The increasing amount of cognitive activities I can perform.  That's the bright side that keeps me motivated.

But there's also the dark side.

There's the 114 days since my brain injury.  That's 114 consecutive days of non-stop headache. Medications help reduce the intensity, but I haven't found one yet that has tolerable side effects. 

There's the plans I've had to cancel.  Weekend getaways.  Social engagements.  Appointments for other medical issues.  All erased from the calendar.

There's the 78 days of work I've missed.  My team has filed at least 2 drugs for regulatory approval without me.  I read the press releases.

And on the home front, the 73 days since Breanna (our eldest greyhound) was diagnosed with cancer.  I manage her medical needs in addition to my own.

No one knows what the future holds, not for any of us.  When I look ahead, I see plans I've made that I hope I can keep.  I see December 23...the date I need to return to work or lose my job, unless I can use the vacation days I didn't take this year.  And I calculate how much further I have to go in my recovery between now and then...71 days.

...and I'm scared to death that I don't have enough time.

It starts with a spark...

Yesterday I was able to recapture a tiny piece of my pre-PCS life.

I had a visit with an ophthalmologist who specializes in brain injury. She spent 90 minutes carefully determining what my vision issues were, and how to correct them. She mentioned a pilot study she wanted to do to show the effects of a particular anesthetic drop on convergence in brain injury, but said she was having trouble getting it approved. I asked her what the issues preventing approval were, and she explained them to me.

You see, before PCS, I was a clinical scientist and medical writer doing late stage drug development in oncology. I've designed, reviewed, implemented, analyzed, or monitored well over 100 clinical trials in oncology, infectious disease, cardiology, and ophthalmology. Also, I spent 3 years as a reviewer on an Institutional Review Board (IRB) that evaluates and approves clinical trials. I haven't been able to work since my injury, but somehow my brain was able to understand her situation. I suggested a revision in the trial design that solved all the problems.

I left with a prescription for new glasses, and an opportunity to be a paid consultant on her study. 

It feels sooooo good to think like a scientist again.