Color Her Incredible!
What would you do, if a drunk driving crash
injured your brain, and:
- your skull broke into 24 pieces?
- doctors predicted you’d remain in a vegetative state if you survived?
- you had to relearn to swallow, talk, see, balance, think, walk, tie your shoes, etc.?
- you had three surgeries to stop seeing double, then one and a half years of vision therapy?
- you could never drive again?
- your short-term memory continued to be frustratingly compromised?
- you were still paying off more than a million dollars in medical bills, nine years after your crash and injuries (and after your insurance paid)?
It’s
doubtful that any answer could surpass Joan Miller’s remarkably courageous
and positive response to the June 9, 1999 [correction: June 12, 1999], three-car crash that changed
her life and her husband John’s life forever. She views their crash,
caused by a 24-year-old drunk driver with a .20 BAC in Ogden, Utah, as “a
gift from God,” enabling her to touch so many more people than she
otherwise could have. She’s also determined to make the most of it.
Faced with a severe traumatic brain injury (TBI),
and countless challenges that would make many people give up, Joan shares
her incredible attitude and advice for others: “If you want to have a pity
party, don’t invite me. I don’t have any presents, but I do have God-given
gifts. If you want to climb through the tunnel of rehabilitation, I’m at
the end."
“With a brain injury, the person you once
were before is gone,” she says. “There are still remnants of that
personality, but it’s all about finding your focus, negotiating your new
life.” Thanks to her indomitable strength and perseverance, a fabulous
optometrist and the invaluable support of family and true friends, she’s
stronger than ever now. Most of all, she credits her recovery to John, her
“knight in shining armor,” whose own injuries included a punctured lung
and two broken legs.
In a different hospital, with a leg cast
from his ankle to his thigh, John wasn’t able to see Joan initially. After
enduring four days in a coma, two weeks in ICU and almost two months in a
rehabilitation facility, she still didn’t understand what “all the
hullabaloo” was about. When she finally got home, she didn’t remember her
husband’s name or their dog Wile E’s name. She feels lucky that she still
doesn’t remember the crash.
Since her visual and motor problems prevent
her from driving, the Portland, Oregon resident depends on the TriMet
LIFT, a transit service for disabled people who can’t use the regular bus
system. She sits at the back, so she can’t see what’s coming from the
front of the lift. “My body still remembers and still seizes up when I’m
travelling in too much traffic or see too much going on,” Joan says.
A passionate
victim advocate for
MADD and brain injured people, and a frequent speaker in schools and
on victim impact panels, Miller co-founded
BIRRDsong, the
nonprofit Brain Injury Information Referral and Resource Development, for
which she is also secretary. “It’s a domino effect,” she says. “You help
one person, and that person helps others.
“My priority is finding my true purpose and
helping people in whatever way I can,” Joan says. “There’s a reason for me
to be here on earth. It ain’t to take up space but to help
others.”
Although doctors caution that her brain is
still like a bundle of egg shells, and she must be extra careful to avoid
hitting it, she only complains about her lower energy level and how
quickly she tires. But anyone who knows Joan can easily confirm that she
has more energy and drive in her little finger than most of us have in our
entire body.
Her message to others: “Cherish the ones you
love, and never leave home without telling them that you love
them.” Her e-mail ID: joanwins. Her e-mail signature: MADD Advocate in
Action. It doesn’t get more positive than that.
Read the most recent issue of MADDvocate Magazine, featuring an article about coping with traumatic brain injuries
