Recognizing and Supporting Those With Invisible Disabilities In The Workplace - My Personal Story

April 16th, 2019

Just like any other day, I embarked on my twenty-five-mile commute. Eager to transform my routine journey, I dived into an audiobook about marketing. But life had its own twist in store.

Fifteen miles in, my phone buzzed a warning about an accident up ahead. I veered onto a slower route, thinking, "Better late than extremely late." As I maneuvered through familiar side roads under construction, I just listened to my audiobook to lessen the stress. I approached a light, stopped, turned to my left at a diagonal intersection to watch for a tanker truck that was turning, and my life was changed instantly. Two large Nissan trucks hit me simultaneously from behind. My body was turned and leaned forward when it happened, and the truck right behind hit mostly my left bumper. I was told by doctors by head and neck spun as it hit the headrest. "A shearing motion" It was at that moment, my world shifted irreversibly.

You might be wondering, why share such an intimate detail here on LinkedIn? Because life's most impactful moments often happen in the blink of an eye. And, often, they converge with our work lives. AND, I kept the details secret for a very long time and I deserve to finally tell my story.

In 2020, I highlighted how a staggering one-third of our lives is dedicated to work. This profound realization hit me as I grappled with the aftermath of my accident. A seemingly minor incident led to a complex web of challenges—pain, memory loss, and the daily struggle to rise above them all. I was determined, pushing myself to work even when my body screamed for rest.

For weeks, vertigo and not being able to navigate well anymore bound me to a chauffeur. My husband drove me to and from work each day...25 miles four times a day. (When driving myself, familiar routes became mazes and I was terrified of getting hit again.) At my desk, once-familiar tools like Photoshop became foreign. The details that once seemed second nature—colleagues’ names, routine websites—evaporated. Post-it reminders became my lifeline.

At home, my family's faces were unfamiliar. I couldn't remember large periods of time in my kids' childhood. I had severe insomnia. I would get into the shower with my clothes on and use conditioner before shampoo. I would put my clothes on wrong and I couldn't count money at the store. I burnt my hands several times because I couldn't even feel temperature properly. My entire body was and still does have 24 hours fasciculations (much like you'd see with someone with ALS) I was going to work and having up to three doctor appointments a week for months. A host of unseen challenges continued: vibrating eyeballs, involuntary tics, and crippling cervical headaches. I got up and went to work each day, stood in front of a crowd at meetings forgetting my words and cringing through pain. I pushed on until the end of the day when I would get to my car and burst into tears after holding in the pain and confusion.

The image is embarassing, but it is necessary to share. You can see it on my face as it drooped on one side only a few weeks post-accident versus one year ago...and then now.

It was difficult, yet, I pressed on, fueled by sheer willpower and an acute awareness of the demands of my job, as I was right in the middle of a large rebranding where I was performing the tasks of what would normally be a multi-person marketing team. As days turned into months, a sea of unsaid challenges, misdiagnoses, undue pressures, and confusions swirled around me.

I worked for a while then decided I needed more support around me. I took the break I was actually in desperate need of. Later, I began to consult for some clients, then long term contract work, then I interviewed as I recovered...and I think so many went terribly. I didn't even realize the cognitive therapy I still needed to help me remember some things. I ultimately decided to start my own business again for the flexibility and for my confidence to return.

In this type of struggle, I was not alone. So many employees go through these struggles behind the scenes.

In your professional circle, there's likely someone grappling with invisible challenges, be it an illness, personal hardship, or an undisclosed disability. These silent battles are ubiquitous, and they matter—significantly.

Reflect on this: pre-Covid, we often spent more waking hours with colleagues than our own families. This time matters. The relationships with your employees and their accommodations matter. As the world shifted to remote working, so many invisible burdens were relieved for those of us struggling to balance a medical complication or disability and a job.

Many companies proudly wear the "family" badge. But when the unexpected strikes—a personal accident, a family emergency, or an illness—how do these corporate families respond? True empathy is reflected not in well-wishing emails but in the genuine, heartfelt actions that uplift, support, and cherish.

Challenges can strike any of us. The secretary facing personal tragedy. The sales manager navigating a divorce. When these trials arise, will you step up? Will you truly embrace that 'family' ethos, offering more than just condolences?

Think of Houston, where communities have banded together in the face of natural disasters. Employees often rally around companies in times of crisis, helping to rebuild and rejuvenate. These acts remind us of the deep connections we forge at work, the collective spirit that drives success.

Fast forward to today, four years after my life-altering accident. From my office, I reflect on my journey: over 60 medical visits, a changed relationship with family, recovering from a Diffuse Axonal Brain Injury, 5 herniated discs, one pupil still larger than the other, vision still worse, vocal cord not working right, a torn tendon in my shoulder that has not healed properly, mild memory issues, and some other ongoing challenges. Most people would not even notice what I go through, because it is all invisible to you. I have created workarounds in these years of therapy where it does not affect anyone or anything around me. It's been a life altering struggle. But there’s also the immense strength, resilience, and tenacity that my journey instilled in me. And it's this spirit, despite invisible injuries, that I champion for all.

I urge you to truly see your coworkers. Listen for those "National Days of" that honor those who persevere. I felt abandoned by so many and and it was unnecessary. Resources are still few and far between for those with my type and level of brain injury unless it is stroke related. No support groups anymore. And Covid made it even more difficult to find resources.

Consider joining in the fight for those with brain injury. Not all of our injuries fall into the standards set up for this diagnosis. So much of us fall through the cracks medically and among our support systems and it shouldn't be that way. Understand their challenges and stand with them. Because it’s in these moments of unity that a genuine “family culture” is forged.

Consider reading up here at Brain Injury Association of America or Invisible Disabilities® Association . Especially if you have a business with roles that could make people more susceptible for head injury or you are in HR departments that become involved in medical leave, worker's comp, or in fair hiring processes.