‘Damage’ is a poem about traumatic brain injury by Stanley Smith. It is a powerful, impactful first person account of waking up and trying to make sense of what has happened.
As I completed yet another clean out I found a copy of this poem in my archives from the early 90’s. I know, I know – I just don’t like throwing good resources away! And I am glad I did not throw this away.
Eager to share ‘Damage’ with you, I was lucky enough to find, and meet up with Stanley again. After catching up on 30 years of life in brief, Stanley generously gave me permission to reprint ‘Damage’ here.
Stanley was surprised at my interest in his work of so long ago. While happy to have this poem shared, he is concerned that his creative property be respected and not be copied without permission. (I am happy for you to CONTACT ME with any requests).
WARNING – there is some language and description that you may find offensive. I have not censored the poem as I believe it vividly adds to the feelings of waking up with traumatic brain injury.
The format is Stanley’s original and again I did not want to alter this. You will see it here as it was intended. I have also deliberately let the words speak and have not included images.
DAMAGE
By Stanley Smith
Open eyes,
Clean white sheets.
Pale blurs all around.
Inkling.
A Doctor,
A Nurse.
Puzzlement.
Yes.
I know.
I think.
How?
Where?
Clarity.
White Coat (Doctor)
comes over.
“Hello. So you’re
Awake. How
do you feel?
You had us worried.
Never thought
you’d come around but
you did
which is good.”
Confusion.
Try to stand.
Rubber legs.
Fall over.
Carried to a
wheel-chair by
Doctors?
“Ta.”
Rustily unsure voice.
Vague guttural grunts.
Can’t talk.
Shit.
What happened?
Nurse (I think) smiles.
“Do you want some
food?”
“Uh-huh.”
Meal brought out.
Try to eat.
Dribble.
Aim for mouth.
Hit chest.
Finished meal.
Where am I?
Puzzled looks.
Doctor comes over.
“Well. What can be
done for you?”
Point at mouth.
No-one understands.
“You can’t really talk
can you? Can you
write?”
Nod.
Hands over pen and
pad.
Forgot how to write.
Shit.
Shit.
That’s why my fingers
don’t work.
Frustration.
Wheel-chair push.
Nice Orderly.
Physiotherapy.
Physiotherapy.
Physiotherapy.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
Anger.
Shit.
Unfair.
Physiotherapy.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
Friends come in.
Happiness.
Parents come in with
television.
Gratitude.
Friend brings in
alphabet board.
Joy.
Communication.
Relief.
Scribble
Where?
“You’re in hospital.”
Why?
“Motorcycle crash.”
Spell out words for
nice nurse.
Was it my motorcycle
crash?
“No.”
Whose?
“We think it was your
friend’s or so
we supposed him to be.”
Where is he?
“He’s dead.”
Shit.
Was I riding?
“No. you were
pillion.”
Shit.
How long have I been
here?
“Six months.”
Why can’t I recall?
“You’ve got brain
damage as you
were unconscious for
four months
and awake for two
months but not
quite here.”
I feel such a mess.
What did I
break?
“You broke your head
and smashed your
leg. It was
replaced with a
titanium rod. You also
nerve –
damaged your arm.”
“My fault?”
“No.”
“My fault?”
Miracle?
Anger.
Fair.
Fair??
So many people.
Hundreds.
Defective and broken.
Grind teeth.
Hit wall.
Pain.
Anger.
“My fault?”
“No.”
Bowels of regret.
Sympathy.
Shame.
Boredom.
Blanket of.
Hit head.
Bricks (against).
Cold and grey.
Camera spying.
Should have died.
“No.”
“My fault?”
“No.”
“My fault?”
“No.”
Feeling faulty.
Feel defective.
Shit.
Dead.
Dead?
Better.
Today?
Tomorrow?
Which day?
Shit.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
New ward.
New bed.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
Masturbation.
Orgasm.
Frustration.
Fantasy.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
Loneliness.
Nurse.
Masturbation.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
Lifts.
New ward.
Physiotherapy.
Cold ice block.
Pain.
Irritation.
Speech therapy
Occupational therapy.
Still can’t walk.
Rage (uncontained).
Frustration (blind).
Ah shit.
Punch wall.
Hurt hand.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
Occupational therapy.
New ward.
Physiotherapy.
Speech therapy.
And Finally
What do you think? Do you agree that is is a vivid descriptive account of waking with brain injury?
Please share comments and I will also pass on your thoughts and comments to Stanley.