Former Marshall woman tells story of recovery from serious brain injury

Rebekah Vandergriff during an interview in January describes the effects of a brain injury she sustained in a 1989 auto crash and the long process of recovery. Vandergriff will be in Marshall Saturday, Nov. 7, for a book signing at The Square Corner. (Eric Crump/Democrat-News) [Click to enlarge] [Order this photo]

The Marshall High School graduate no longer exists, in a way, but the woman she has become, Rebekah Vandergriff, will be in town at 1 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 7, at The Square Corner to sign her book, "What Day Is It? A Family's Journey Through Traumatic Brain Injury"

The Becky Dyer everyone knew was left behind June 3, 1989, after a terrible auto crash in Kansas City left her in a coma. The brain injury she suffered changed her forever, and the book is her account of the long -- and still continuing -- recovery process.

"I had three jobs and three boyfriends. I was as busy as a young lady can get," she said. "I've completely changed. I was Becky here in Marshall. (Now) I call myself Rebekah."

Rebekah Vandergriff with her father, Sam Dyer, of Marshall. (Eric Crump/Democrat-News) [Click to enlarge] [Order this photo]

The title for the book came to her in 2002 when she finished her master's degree in social work, an accomplishment her doctors wouldn't have predicted she could achieve.

After the accident, they told her mother to start looking for a nursing home. They expected she would need 24-hour care the rest of her life, she said.

The title of the book is an attempt to capture the profound disorientation she felt when she eventually regained consciousness after the accident.

Vandergriff describes the sensation as similar to trying to find a television station that can't be tuned in quite right.

She had huge chunks of memory missing, and what memory she had took her battered brain time to locate. She described the first family meal she attended after leaving the hospital.

"There were five conversations going on at once. They seemed to know all about me," she said, relating how she worked to recall the names of people she'd known all her life. By the time she'd found an appropriate bit of memory, the conversation had moved on.

And that was what life was like post-accident. Frustrating and humiliating.

"I was a really good skater. I was a good dancer. I had to let all that go," she said. "That's a hard thing to take. You're a different person."

But one characteristic she retained from her previous life: stubbornness. And that has proved a useful trait, she said.

As soon as she could manage it, she started taking college classes. At first, the process was grueling.

"I took one class at community college and took advantage of every service they had to offer, even though it was hard to accept the 'handicapped' and 'disabled' labels," she said. Later, "it would take me all day to take two classes."

She recorded all classes, studied constantly and earned two degrees in three years, graduating with honors.

She also married her algebra tutor. She and her husband, Jeff, have three daughters. The oldest is 15 years old and the youngest is 5.

Her stubbornness has paid off not only educationally but recreationally.

"I went roller skating for the first time last Saturday (Jan. 3, 2009)," she said. "It was a mess. I fell twice pretty good, but I've learned how to fall and fall better than most."

She said her daughters were more alarmed than she was at her skating mishaps, but she insists on trying new things.

"If you never do it, you don't know if you can," she said.

The purpose of her book is not only to tell the story of her recovery but also to help educate the public, therapists and government agencies about what brain trauma victims go through. She thinks all those groups would benefit from understanding how the world looks to someone struggling to make sense of a world they once knew well.

"I got laughed at going to a movie in KC one time. People just don't know what you've been through and how hard you have to work," she said.

To write the book, she sought help from family and friends, asking them to use their memories to fill the gaps in her own.

And she gives special thanks to her mother, Sharon Ann Eiker, who tended her during her recovery.

"I couldn't have done it without my mom. She was with me every day," she said. "If it wasn't for mom, I would have ended up in a nursing home."

Contact Eric Crump at marshalleditor@socket.net