I’ve shared before now what went on inside that hospital when it was discovered I had brain damage from what’s called encephalitis. Twenty-eight years ago is when the hospital had become my new home, since I was not remembering much of anything before the illness hit me. But what about my family and friends? Something about having their own friend, daughter, sister, mom, or wife in the hospital, with brain damage, put a big dent in their Christmas joy. A few even told me it was the toughest Christmas season they had ever had.
Continue reading “Treadmill + Math = Hope”