Tuesday, May 3, 2011

"TUCKER TAUGHT ME... Lets' Chase Rabbits!"


Brain Injury Blog by Marie G. Cooney
May 3, 2011
Tucker Taught Me… Let’s Chase Rabbits!
Sometimes, I get sad during spring. Winter has been too long and too cold. Everything is a muddy mess. And that’s when my father died. One day, it’s bright and cheering. Then it’s dark and gloomy. The birds magically reappear. Then they mysteriously disappear. Sometimes, I don’t exactly know why I am so sad or why the tears come so quickly. I’ve always been a person with a wide range of emotions. But ever since my traumatic brain injuries, I’ve had what is referred to as heightened emotions, while others might have dampened emotions. Almost everyone with a brain injury will struggle with anxiety, depression and other emotional changes.

Tucker, however, loves spring. He runs here and there sniffing out all the terrific smells, and even some icky ones. Like a private detective, he snoops out the trail of scents that others have left behind, and then follows a path of clues that only he recognizes. Like an Olympic runner, Tucker likes to sprint as fast as he can on four paws after squirrels. He doesn’t even care that they always make it up a tree and seem to chitter chatter down to him, “Ha! Ha! You can’t catch me!” Tucker never listens to me, when I try to explain, “No matter how much you bark at them, the squirrels are never going to come down!”

That’s why Tucker loves the “Let’s Chase Rabbits” game most of all during early spring. Tucker and I get more exercise, which is good for both of us. Rabbits, being great magicians, run here, there, and everywhere. They disappear down one hole or another, only to reappear again and again and again, quite miraculously here and there and everywhere! No matter how awful I might have felt before, I always feel better after playing hide and seek with Tucker and his rabbit friends, who love lots of exercise. Exercise is good for everyone, especially if suffering from depression, anxiety and other symptoms of TBI.

One day, rabbits keep popping up here and there and disappearing once again. Each time, Tucker was a sprinter right out of the starting blocks. Each time the magicians disappeared. And then suddenly I saw the most unbelievable sight I’ve ever seen! “NO, Tucker, no!” I yelled. But like the strongest stallion, he was after the rabbit with the carrot. “Tucker, COME!” I screamed. And yet he didn’t. He kept on running and running. “NO, TUCKER NO!” I yelled, “That’s the Easter Bunny!”

Tucker never heard me, but eventually he came back as happy as ever to have had the best chase! I really couldn’t reprimand Tucker, because he did eventually come back. Besides, Tucker did help me find the little child, who was supposed to get the dropped basket. So that made everything all better and him a very good dog!
Ever since I sustained two TBIs, I have had difficulty with memory, some higher executive functioning, and planning skills. So, I really hadn’t planned on what happened, nor had Tucker.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget to keep him on leash again, when it is most important. But if on some spring day, you find yourself sad, disappointed, hurt or any other troubling and escalating emotions, try to remember what Tucker taught me: “Let’s Chase Rabbits!”…. just not the Easter Bunny, please!

Marie G. Cooney is a playwright, writer, story teller and public speaker


I am blogging for Lash and Associates Publishing/Training Inc. They provide resources for people with brain injuries, family, friends, and professionals. Your comments at the above link are greatly appreciated as I hope to publish the series of short stories as a book some day.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

"Welcome from Marie" (March 8, 2011)

Welcome from Marie     
March 8, 2011
Welcome from Marie
Hi! My name is Marie Cooney, and I am very proud to have the opportunity to start blogging regularly for Lash and Associates Publishing. I have survived, not one, but two Traumatic Brain Injuries. Both happened while I was working as a stagehand in the theater. Most people don’t know how dangerous the theater can be. When something bad happens, it is often very bad. Making “the magic of theater” isn’t always so magical. When a performer gets injured, it’s news. When it’s a stagehand, it’s Work Comp, if you’re lucky.

After my first closed head injury, I self-moderated my return to work. Like many TBI survivors, I was simply trying to survive. I didn’t follow through on retaining a good lawyer and my rights to lost wages, all reasonable and necessary medical care, and retraining if necessary. Like many TBI survivors, my long term relationship ended after my injury. I didn’t believe it when my partner ended our ten year relationship with a two week notice. I was fired as friend and life-partner. What made it even harder is she never explained why.
Once, she said to me, “If you have a brain injury, there is no hope!” I ran upstairs, grabbed a medical report, and shoved it in her hands yelling, “Don’t you dare ever tell me there is no hope!” I have since learned I may have been experiencing the “heightened emotions” of some TBI survivors. Whatever the reason for the breakup, I left almost everything behind. But I fought for Tucker.
Samuel TUCKER, the most handsome and smartest Border Collie, was my saving grace. I don’t know how I would have survived my first head injury and the end of my relationship without the love, devotion and companionship of my dog. Anyone who has a service animal, a therapy dog, or any pet understands the importance they have in our lives. They are even more important, when our previous lives, as we have known them, have been destroyed. Some of the topics I will be writing about include:
  • Tucker Taught Me…. Don’t Forget to Eat!
  • Tucker Taught Me… Drink Lots of Water!
  • Tucker Taught Me… Take Your Medicine!
  • Tucker Taught Me… Let’s Chase Rabbits!
  • And more “Tucker Taught Me…. Tales”
In 2005, I sustained a second Traumatic Brain Injury, when I fell off the stage and cracked my head on the cement floor below. As I tried to explain to my mother: She lost her other half, when my father died. I lost the previous me, after the second TBI. It’s been a long journey to reclaim a new life: a combination of parts of the old me, who I am today, and who I am becoming. The life I am reclaiming now is not what I had dreamed, but it’s neither all bad nor all good. There is a lot in between.
Please let me know if there are specific topics you would like me to cover. Thanks again to Lash and Associates and all of you for this wonderful opportunity.
Marie G. Cooney



For more information regarding future Tucker Taught Me stories, please see Lash and Associates Publishing/Training. They provide resources for people with brain injuries, family, friends, and professionals. Feedback THERE lets them know people are reading my blogs. Feedback HERE is also welcomed. Thanks.

http://www.lapublishing.com/ is their home page
http://www.lapublishing.com/blog/ is the blog home page


Sunday, April 3, 2011

"TUCKER TAUGHT ME... Find a Good Lap"

TUCKER TAUGHT ME... FIND A GOOD LAP!
By Marie G. Cooney
 © April 3, 2011
When I was a little girl, I already knew what Tucker had to teach me after I got hurt. Find a good lap! Not just any lap. Find a good lap. Tucker helped me to remember there were lots and lots of very good laps: sitting on my mommy’s lap reading a good book, galloping on my daddy’s lap pretending I was a wild horse, and snuggling with my sisters talking about this and that.
I loved cuddling in my grandmother’s lap and touching the softness of her face, or running to my grandfather’s strong and opened embrace, then flying high above his head like an airplane and landed gently, once again, in his lap, of course. Big laps! Little laps! Lots and lots of laps! Cousins, friends, and neighbors too, there were good laps everywhere. All I needed to do was find one, or two, or three or more. Any lap I liked would do. And I liked lots and lots of laps.
Dogs are pretty smart. Tucker always knew when he had found a good lap! Tucker also knew which laps to avoid. He wouldn’t go anywhere near those laps. With animals, they say it is instinct. With people, they call it intuition. Either way, it’s the way of knowing something, without any rhyme or reason, just because you know it. And that is that! No questions asked.
Tucker rarely contemplated if it were a good lap or a bad lap. He just knew. However, every now and then, Tucker didn’t know for sure. So he would wait or test the water. Sometimes Tucker waited for an unexplainable signal, that only he knew, that told him all was well, run the other way, or simply wait for another day.
Tucker liked lots and lots of laps, just like me! He liked Kris’ lap, and not just because she taught him to catch popcorn flying through the air. Tucker loved to snuggle with Sammy, his best dog-friend. They even shared a bone! I suppose best friends are like sharing treats and snacks. Then there was Sharon’s lap. She loved playing with Tucker and never seemed to mind his wet nose pushed into her lap. Some people find this offensive, but not dog lovers.
Then there is me, of course! Mine was the very best lap of all, but not the only one. Tucker knew he could put his head in my lap just to say hello, to let me know he liked me, he needed some attention, he was hungry, or he needed to go out. Tucker always knew he could snuggle in my lap and go to sleep. It was a nice place, a warm place, a safe place to be. And I liked it too, when Tucker snuggled with me.
Sometimes Tucker had to wait, no matter how much he wanted to be in my lap. Coming to the dinner table, while I was eating, wasn’t a good idea. But if I were sitting on the floor, eating a bowl of ice cream while watching television, maybe, just maybe, he could put his head in my lap and wait. If he waited patiently, maybe he also got a snack. Tucker like licking ice cream bowls, just as much as I did.
Occasionally, Tucker found a not so good lap. He never would have put his head in the lap of the very angry man, who chased us down the street. Instead, Tucker bared his teeth and defended me. Dogs are very good friends to have at your side, when crossing paths with someone very mean. Tucker helped me more than once, when I was very frightened.
Tucker, however, wouldn’t put his head in the lap of a frightened child. Instead he would wait and wait and wait, patiently, well sort of patiently, even if his whole body squirmed with delight. Tucker loved children very much. He would wait in the down position until the child came to him, if and only if the child felt safe. Sometimes Tucker had to wait a long time for children to come to him. But making new friends sometimes takes lots of time. That’s okay.
Yes! Tucker taught me what I already knew, but then forgot, when I was really sad and depressed after my accident. It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. Find a good lap! There are lots and lots of laps around. Sometimes you can dive right into a very good lap. For others, you might have to wait. Some laps aren’t so good, and it’s okay to run the other way. It’s even okay to defend yourself when necessary. Trust yourself. Listen to your intuition. Don’t be afraid to try again. No matter how young, no matter how old, if you keep looking, you will FIND A GOOD LAP! One or two, or three or four, and even more. Any laps will do, so long as you decide. Always!
Marie G. Cooney, © April 3, 20011
For more information regarding future Tucker Taught Me stories, please see Lash and Associates Publishing/Training. They provide resources for people with brain injuries, family, friends, and professionals. Feedback THERE lets them know people are reading my blogs. Feedback HERE is also welcomed. Thanks.
http://www.lapublishing.com/   is their home page
http://www.lapublishing.com/blog/  is the blog home page