Stef's story

Back in 2016 I was a busy mum and wife with a job that I absolutely loved. I was completing a teaching degree and felt everything was well-balanced and going in the direction I’d always wanted. Family life was hectic but happy. But a kayaking accident that year changed life as I knew it, sending me on a very different, unexpected path.

After hitting my head when the kayak flipped, I had really bad pain above my eye and was shaking uncontrollably, totally unable to stop no matter how many blankets were put around me. I was stuttering so much I couldn’t speak – an indication that the hypothalamus part of my brain might have been impacted, meaning I couldn’t regulate my temperature. Whatever damage had been caused to my brain meant I was deteriorating fast.

By the time we were at the hospital I didn't have any words at all – I couldn’t even give the nurse my name. I kept thinking, ‘I've got to tell her my name, but I don't know what to say.’ I used my fingers to imagine typing my name on a keyboard to spell it but still couldn’t recall my married name.

A nurse asked if I knew who my husband was. I said yes, but in my head, I really didn’t know and thought he was my dad. I couldn’t work out why I’d said that – my mouth said the right words but my brain told me something different. Scans weren’t showing anything, and I wasn’t offered an MRI scan, so I was just sent home – unable to walk or string a sentence together.

Arriving home, I didn't recognise the garden, everything seemed new. I remember seeing the kitchen cupboards and thinking ‘I wonder what's in them’. My daughter asked if I wanted a drink – I didn't know if I wanted a drink, I didn't really know anything about myself. I didn't know what this house was, who lived here or anybody's name. I recognised my daughter’s face, but I thought she was my sister. I didn't really understand the relationships with everyone.

I was trying to relearn everything, even how to speak. I tried to write sentences but didn't have any grammar, so I would try and guess the right order from listening to what people said. It took such a long time say more than just ‘hello’ to someone.

I’d become very depressed and was desperate – beyond desperate – to get back to my normal life. I couldn't communicate, I couldn't interact, I’d lost all the relationships I knew with family and friends, I'd lost my work, I'd lost myself, my identity. I didn't know anything about the world anymore. I’d just had enough.

I went to visit my colleagues at work, convinced I would be able to go back – but they could see what I couldn’t. Realising I needed specialist help, my colleague called them. I wasn’t happy about it at first as I thought I could manage. But when I spoke to Headway, they were brilliant – they referred me for an MRI scan, and speech and language therapy so I quickly realised ‘OK, this Headway can do stuff!’. 

Headway showed me that there are people – an organisation – who can support you, who understand what's going on and help you understand yourself. Friends and family do all they can, but when a brain injury happens, you need an organisation that sees you for more than what you are at that moment; that will help you get to where you want to be, what you want to do, and make you feel that you're still of value – that there is a future – to take your hand and guide you through it.

It sees the potential and helps you make choices and decisions, and therefore you're in control – the support from Headway makes sure make sure that you get to where you want to be, one way or another.

Initially, I'd always said no to a support group – I imagined sitting in a circle and talking about how terrible everything is. But it’s really not that. The peer support groups I attend Headway are people who really know what you’re experiencing – they understand when you say ‘I need to sleep right now’ and then you close your eyes and put your head on the desk. It’s a place to just ‘be’.

Headway is people who won’t judge at all. Won't be patronising – it's people who can come up with strategies to help you through situations so I feel less alone and alienated – that there is hope. And my Headway ID card which gives me confidence in so many everyday situations – it means I don't have to explain or try and remember what my issues are.

Nine years on, I’ve never discovered the actual cause of my injury, but to me, it doesn't matter – the result is what matters. And Headway has helped me understand and live with the result of my injury. I’ve recommended Headway to so many people. I now work part time in a hospital and come across people with brain injury who need support, so I've phoned the Headway UK Helpline number for them.

The path before my brain injury seemed the only path, but I found a side route, which is very adventurous – it’s fun and interesting and unexpected. I've found skills that I never knew I had, and I've ended up in places that I wouldn't have otherwise. Headway has shown me that brain injury isn't the end, that we are still full of potential and have so much to give.