Libbi’s Lost Summer

Elizabeth (Libbi) Evans Fryer was your typical 13 year old. She loved basketball and horseback riding. But suddenly, while riding with her mother on route to participate in the Franklin's Fourth of July parade, Flash, her 5-year-old Palomino, lost his footing, leaving Libbi in an unconscious heap on the road. In an instant, her world as she knew it was turned upside down. With a grim prognosis from her doctors, on July 4, 1983, Elizabeth Evans Fryer begins her long journey to recovery.

Each year thousands of people of all ages suffer devastating brain injuries. Whilesome will recover and continue on with their lives, some will not. When Libbi arrived unconscious at the local hospital, her condition was listed as critical. She was evaluated using the Glasgow Coma Scale, which measures the severity of head injuries on a scale of three to 15. A score of eight or below indicates a severe brain injury—Libbi scored a three. The one positive sign Libbi exhibited was the presence of 'doll's eyes,' meaning when her head was turned side to side, her eyes stay fixed and don't roll with the turn indicating that the nuclei of the brain stem are still interconnected and functioning.

Immediately after Libbi's accident, her parents couldn't contemplate the scenario that would unfold for the next several months. At first glance and in denial, her mother, Elaine, rationalized that Libbi has suffered a concussion and would regain consciousness within minutes. As days stretched into weeks, Libbi lay semi-conscious in a coma. As she slowly emerged, she was unable to walk and communicate.

Over the next few months, Libbi endured the frustration of not being to communicate her emotions or articulate her needs. She had to withstand hours of rehabilitation so she can regain her strength, movement and reprogram her brain to do the simplest of tasks.

Despite these challenges, Libbi completely recovered and resumed the usual activities of a child. And other than some residual difficulties from the accident, after graduating from high school years, Libbi attended the University of Dayton on a scholarship and earned a degree in Environmental Engineering.

"I think I felt the same as anyone else who earns a degree. My injury was something I rarely thought about. I didn't want to be different from everybody else or get special treatment." Libbi acknowledged. "At the time I graduated, almost nine years post injury, I did think my brain was back to pre-injury function, yet now that I think about it, I'm not so sure. I studied a lot, and studying didn't always help. It was frustrating to study a problem but not be able to follow the logic to get to the answer. I remember one Friday night just crying when I couldn't figure out a solution to a mechanical engineering problem."

Evans Fryer added, "I met with professors quite often, sometimes twice a week, depending on the subject. If I couldn't figure the logic the way the book taught it, I'd have to meet with a professor to find another way. This took lots of time and effort. Earning my MA in Professional Writing & Editing, which I got 20 years after my accident, was a piece of cake. I don't know if it's because the subject was easier than engineering or because my brain had 11 more years of healing. Probably a bit of both."

While attending a writer's conference in Ohio, Libbi had the opportunity to read part of an essay she wrote on an open mike. The following day, while dining with another conference attendee, she was surprised when her dinner companion remarked that her story would make a good book due to its human-interest element.

During her final year of graduating school, 20 years after the accident, Libbi found the courage to document her accident and long recovery and wrote her first book entitled My Lost Summer: A Memoir She is living proof that the human body, given the proper care and stimuli, has the ability to heal and recover from some injuries.

"That's one of the messages of my book: that I worked so hard to be ordinary and average. I didn't use my head injury as a crutch."

While I was writing My Lost Summer, Libbi's mom and her would talk about her recovery. "I told her that I was cognizant, and I understood what was going on," Libbi offered. "Mom, in her 'I-know-better-than-you' voice, would tell me that I didn't. But when she read Parts II and III of the book, based on my memories from that time, she finally realized," she added. "She couldn't believe that I could remember so much, which meant that I knew what was going on around me at the time of my stay in the hospital. "

And now, in retrospect, Libbi advised families of patients recovering from brain injuries to challenge them.

"Challenge them mentally and physically. Don't assume that because they had regressed to babyhood while they were unconscious that they are still in babyhood now that they are conscious," Libbi added."[My] mom said that she'd set three-piece puzzles out for me, and once I'd mastered that, she brought in puzzles with smaller pieces that I would have to turn and maneuver to make fit. She would bring in progressively tougher things to keep my mind stimulated. It may not be obvious, but my mom's the hero of my story."

And she offered this advice to brain injury victims: "Never stop trying to improve yourself if you are not satisfied with where you are. But understand that it takes time, as in years, to get back to what we call normal. Try not to get discouraged." Libbi concluded. "Know that if you keep working towards your goal, you'll accomplish it in time. I sign copies of my book with 'hold on to hope. That's the positive way of saying—never give up. I sincerely mean that every time I write it."

For more information, please visit her Web site at Elizabethevansfryer.com.