This is part three of a semi-regular serialization of chapters from Salvation, a section of my book describing the hope that effective treatment brings. Part one is here; part two is here. For the first time in over five and a half years and after standard rehab had made little change to my closed head injury, I received a "yes" to my goal of healing my brain. I began to experience permanent restoration of parts of my injured brain. Concussion Is Brain Injury: Treating the Neurons and Me begins at the start of my brain injury journey; the Salvation section begins the journey of restoring my neurons. This week, I finish the assessment and sit down with the ADD Centre's Executive Director, afraid of what I would learn.

Salvation

Chapter 8: Brainwave

Satisfied with my attempt at relaxing, [Michael] began recording. Lines flowed in jagged waves across the screen. Nineteen lines of brainwaves. He watched them, and I watched what I could through my lowered eyelids, taking it in, wishing I understood, wishing I could nap, thinking how the old psychology student in me would have been enthralled. She would’ve asked so many questions: what each line meant, why the waves were different heights, why some looked sort of like heartbeats while others looked like squeezed-together sine waves. I tried not to worry why they were so short in height.

“Good, good,” he said soothingly. And then the recording was over. But the test was not.

He asked me to close my eyes and again instructed me to relax my jaw. “Let it go slack. That’s it,” he said. Satisfied, he began another recording. He had me read a book clipped to the desk with a paragraph on squirrels. Squirrels haunted my neighbourhood, startling me with their twisting, jumping antics. And they dogged me here, too.

He had me do math in my head. The moment he began talking numbers, every muscle relaxed. I got this. When I was done, he smiled and told me that I had done better than most accountants! I felt puzzled but pleased.

Exhaustion stalled every neuron. At the end of each recording, as he saved the information, he explained what was going on to the student and to me. At the end of the assessment, he pulled up other programs. I saw my brain mapped out like an MRI. He reminded me of my father, enthusiastic about his subject, explaining what it meant as he brought up images of section after section of my brain, showing how the back of my brain produced a lot of delta. A lot, he emphasized. The back, I wondered, dying to go to sleep, confused because the SPECT scan hadn’t shown any anomalies in the back, wanting to remember what he was saying, wanting to want to know. But my curiosity was dead. And exhaustion was shutting me down.

He produced a report and showed me my various results as the cap was removed, my scalp cleaned up. I was relieved it wasn’t like the concrete paste used in sleep studies. Still, my hair stuck out in all directions.

His voice recalled me to my results. “See here. Your alpha is 2-3 Hz lower than it should be. Because you’re intelligent, your alpha should be here. But it’s down here. And you have an acquired learning disability.” What? I have no learning disability. Acquired, settled in to my brain. Acquired. The brain injury gave me a learning disability. I told him I wanted to read again. He explained that he wasn’t sure they could help me with my reading, but they would try. They could help me with my concentration.

I was back in Lynda’s office.

She smiled at me as I plunked down. I feared what she would say. Go home. Nothing to see here.

- To be continued

Copyright ©2017-2018, 2026 Shireen Anne Jeejeebhoy. May not be reprinted or reposted without permission.

If you don't want to wait for the next installment...

Click the links below to read the next five of 12 installments.

Salvation: Fear Turns to Remarkable Hope

Precise diagnostic tests of brain injury are the first step to good treatment. In the fourth installment, I found remarkable hope in my test results.

Salvation: Brain on Training Wheels

Audiovisual entrainment is a decades-old technology that supports brains. In the fifth installment, I started a new chapter in my recovery and received the gift of sleep.

Salvation: Brain Biofeedback Begins

Ever wondered what playing a computer game with your brain is like? In the sixth installment, I made tentative steps into possible hope.

Salvation: Be Inspired

Is inspiration enough to restore broken neurons and heal a brain injury? In the seventh installment, I discover healing neurons may be inspiring, but it's extremely hard work.

Salvation: Why Am I So Tired

Neurons damaged in seconds through concussion and trauma heal over years. In the eighth installment, fatigue drags me down as my fear and doubt soar that brain biofeedback will work.