Since the cycling
accident 16 years ago that left Claudia Osborn, D.O., with
a serious brain injury, she has continued to lead an active
life through a combination of memory-aiding strategies, a
two-day-a-week assistant, and the helping hands of family
and friends. But although helping hands are welcome, caretakers
are not. “In brain injury, the most important thing
is for people not to do things for you,” she explains.
“We are, as far as our disabilities are concerned, more
likely to stay dependent than other people. We need people
who foster our independence by allowing us to fall down, fail
at something, and being there to pick us up and support us
and encourage us to move toward greater independence.”
One pair of helping hands takes the form of the helpful paws
of Micah Matisse, an 8-pound Maltese. Micah is a service dog,
trained to help Claudia to function independently despite
impairments in memory, orientation, alertness, and judgment.
Micah can’t pack Claudia’s suitcase for her before
her many out-of-town speaking engagements; however, he does
make sure she is alert and ready to board her flights on time,
reminds her to take her medications, and unfailingly returns
her to her hotel room after her daily walk. Micah is copilot
rather than codependent—sometimes quite literally. When
rollerblading through Metro Detroit parks, Claudia’s
tendency to become inattentive would sometimes result in collisions
with other people. Now Micah rides shotgun in her backpack,
gently nudging her when someone else approaches on the path.
Executive function
Until Claudia was struck by a car during a bike ride near
her home in Grosse Point, Michigan, she was a hard-driving
physician working in the trenches of an urban hospital. In
her 1998 autobiographical account of her injury and its aftermath,
Over My Head, Claudia paints a vivid portrait of a busy professional,
confidently marching from patient to patient, from task to
task, dragging doctors-in-training along in her slipstream.
These are the gifts of the brain’s
frontal lobes, a key area for “executive
functions” and an area damaged when Claudia’s
head hit the pavement. Executive functions include complex,
goal-directed behaviors such as decision-making, abstract
thinking, planning, and carrying out pre-planned sequences
of steps to complete a task. The frontal lobes are also involved
in self-control, such as deciding which behaviors are appropriate
under various circumstances.
Carrying out executive tasks also requires an ability to
stay on track toward a goal. Due to her injury, Claudia suffers
from a condition known as adynamia: a tendency to shut down
and slip into a state of flatness, apathy, or low mental energy
and alertness. But if so, Micah is there to nudge her along.
“Because of the adynamia, I have a tendency to turn
off,” she explains. “The dog turns me back on.”
That includes waking her up at the gate when her flight is
called. He’s a great guard dog, too. “People at
airports used to steal my stuff. They don’t do that
anymore.”
Memory matters
As is common after brain injuries, Claudia experiences difficulty
forming new memories. This condition, known as anterograde
amnesia, makes it harder to recall specific or “explicit”
memories. “If you asked me what I had for dinner last
night, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you,”
Claudia explains. “But if you said, ‘Wasn’t
that a great lasagna we had last night?,’ then maybe
I would remember.” To compensate, she uses various strategies
such as working from lists and technical devices such as a
timer and digital voice recorder.
She also works with a coach to design new strategies. Packing
a suitcase, for example, may not seem like a particularly
complex task, but stop and think for a moment: You have to
pack items based on a clear mental picture of where you are
going, for how long, what the weather will be like, and other
details. You have to step through the trip and match the contents
of the suitcase to the plan. Five years ago, it was not possible
for Claudia to successfully complete this task. “It
seemed like one of those things that I was never going to
master,” she recalls. “Then slowly but surely
I began to get a handle on more and more pieces, and I was
able to do it more independently.”
Moving on
Although Claudia was not able to return to clinical medicine,
she maintains a busy schedule. For part of the year, she is
out of town on overnight trips every week. Her engagements
include talks to brain-injury advocacy groups, other physicians,
and legislators to lobby for greater support for people like
herself. On a national level, she says, there is an urgent
need for more support for people with brain injuries to allow
them to remain active and contributing to society. “Every
year I improve,” Claudia says. “That doesn’t
mean I don’t have permanent deficits I have to work
around, but every year my life is definitely better and I
do grow and change and learn new skills.”
Micah plays a key role. As she wrote recently in the August
2003 issue of the publication Healing Garden, “I cannot
throw out all my strategies now that I have Micah, but his
skills augment my tools and working with him has provided
an enriching change in my life. Along with my greater independence,
he makes it possible for me to consistently function with
more ease and smoothness.”
Further Reading:
“Over My Head: A Doctor’s Own Story Of
Head Injury From The Inside Looking Out,” by
Claudia L. Osborn. (Andrews McMeel Publishing: 2000. 256 pages,
paperback).
www.claudiaosborn.com
- Includes web links to information about service dogs for
disabled people.
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