About Today’s Guest – Mariah Morgan
On the morning of November 13, 2018, I looked both ways before crossing the street as I entered a pedestrian crosswalk on my two-block walk to work. My memory gets dodgy from here but my brain still holds a few snippets: a quarter of the way across the street I watched the fender of an SUV hit my knee, I slammed onto its hood, and then my head quickly hit the pavement. Hard. I was rushed to the hospital, put in a medically-induced coma, and, when I came to in the ICU at Portsmouth Regional Hospital, was told my 34-year-old body was not how I last remembered it. I’ll spare you the details of the insane list of diagnoses I was given – some knee, neck, and brain-related – but the most important one to know about is that I had an acute subdural hematoma.
I am a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, and a business owner. It has taken a long time to even begin to process the accident (and may take my whole life) but, looking at my life and how close I was to slipping away lends serious perspective. During the months after my accident, I struggled with feelings of loneliness and depression and did not realize at the time that they were direct results of my brain injury. If I can help others feel less alone during their recovery journey, I feel that some good will have come from the trauma that changed my life.
About Your Host – Chloe Luckett
Although every guest I speak with on the podcast is unique, everyone has their own story, and no two brain injuries are alike, I can relate.
In 2016 I sustained a traumatic brain injury and a broken neck while cycling in Halifax. I spent a month in the hospital, a month in rehab, and then moved home with my parents for the next four months. Nothing has quite been the same since. Whether it’s quickly cycling through a whole range of emotions or none at all, to imagining parties outside my room in the hospital, it feels like there’s always something I can connect to with a guest. Yet I continue to be surprised and inspired by the survivors I meet and am looking forward to hearing their stories.
Every day with a brain injury can look or feel different, but I think it’s important to look for the humour in all of it. Because if we can’t laugh at our beautiful broken brains, then what can we do?