Travelling with PCS

When your children have to lead you on a tube journey it feels like things have gone really wrong.

Brain injury is often referred to as an 'invisible disability' - a term previously lost on me but now deeply familiar. For someone with persistent post concussion symptoms a tube journey is beset with challenges. The constant movement and bold patterns and moving trains are a vestibular system nightmare, not to mention escalators. I was jubilant when, about 1.5 years in, I could stand on an escalator with my head up and actually look at those awful moving adverts. Motion overload. That's a thing.

Nervous system hyper-sensitivity means that the bright lights and noise of the tube can be totally overwhelming. I still often travel incognito (sunglasses, cap, earplugs and noise cancelling headphones) because it's all just all TOO MUCH and brings about feelings of rising panic in a previously non-anxious person.

Then there's the forgetfulness and cognitive fatigue - where am I going again? Where do I change? Am I going the right way? Am I going to manage this and get home? Man I just want to get home. The fatigue is very real.
But here's the thing - everything is rehab. To be able to travel on tubes again I have to do it. And gradually do journeys without relying on my suit of armour or the arm of a friend or family member. I have to breathe, remind my nervous system that it's all ok, reassure myself that I can do it, take some time without the sunglasses or earplugs and teach my brain that this stuff is ok. It's known as 'exposure therapy' - just keeping at it till it gets easier.
And it does.

I can now travel alone on the tube with confidence. I don't love it (who does?!) but I can do it.

And whenever I see the ‘not all disabilities are visible’ chair reserved for the likes of me, I give it a nod and slight smile. The chair gets it.