Man struggled to cope with head injury before diagnosis

On Aug. 30, 1983, three days before his wedding, Vern Kenwisher suffered a skull fracture when he fell and landed on his head in a workplace accident.

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Kenwisher, 59, remembers the impact to this day. His head made the sound a melon makes when it hits the ground.

It would be nine more years, after his third wife suffered her own head injury in an accident, before he'd first hear the term "traumatic brain injury."

"It was after she got hurt when I started putting things together," he said from his home outside Tumwater.

The short-term memory loss.

The laid-back personality now more intense, more prone to angry outbursts.

The harsh words from his ex-wife: "You're merely a caricature of what you used to be. The outside is the same, but the inside of you is different."

In those ways, Kenwisher is a portrait of an injury shared by nearly 1.5 million Americans each year, according to the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

But not in all ways.

He considers himself lucky. Unlike others with severe brain injuries, he can work. He can drive. He's married.

The divorce rate of TBI survivors is 80 percent, according to one estimate.

Still, his experiences offer a peek into the hardships of people whose worst enemy is the organ that makes them uniquely who they are.

On that day nearly a quarter-century ago, Kenwisher was assembling a shelf on an equipment rack at the Weyerhaeuser sawmill in Longview. He was standing on planks that made up the lower shelf 5 feet off the ground when his foundation collapsed, and he tumbled backward.

Alone after his head hit the floor, he lay stunned some time before gaining his senses to go to his boss's office. He was taken to a hospital. After doctors determined his injuries, he was released to his then-fiancee because she was a nurse.

The couple lived in Portland, and Kenwisher made another trip to the hospital that night after his fiancee grew concerned because of his off-the-wall answers to questions.

After an overnight stay, doctors released him with some pain medications and told him to take it easy.

"In the 1980s, they didn't know much about traumatic brain injuries," he said.

The newlyweds got off to a rocky start. Within nine months, they separated.

The collapse of their marriage was a result of his head injuries, Kenwisher said, adding the ringing in his ears and constant headaches put him on edge, and he had a hard time controlling his anger.

Kenwisher has had numerous brushes with the law, court records show, including harassment and domestic issues. All of the incidents occurred after he suffered his injury. Twice in the 1980s, his current wife, Kay — they've known each other 20 years — sought protection orders against him for prowling on her property. At the time, Kenwisher's head injuries were untreated and undiagnosed, and the couple strongly believes they were the root of his problems.

The couple reconciled and have been married 21/2 years.

Kay Kenwisher said being married to someone with traumatic brain injury requires "infinite patience and understanding and forgiveness because there is a lot of anger, a short fuse. In order for the marriage to survive, the mate needs to be centered and confident in themselves. It's tough."

In March 1992, Kenwisher began to decipher the origins of his problems when his third wife suffered a brain injury. She was struck in the back of her head by the hatchback of her car.

Kenwisher occasionally would accompany her to a support group for survivors of traumatic brain injuries. Recognition of his own condition finally dawned on him.

"I hadn't really made the connection," he said.

But both he and she were changed by their injuries, and they later divorced.

Survivors are counseled that they never will fully regain their lost cognitive skills, but that they can be improved with rehabilitation and time.

"The brain has many more healing properties than we ever suspected that it did before," said Dr. Kathy Bell, medical director for the Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program at the University of Washington.

Kenwisher learned to make the most of his limited cognitive skills. After his injury, he earned his high school diploma and a two-year associate's degree at Olympic College in Bremerton. He's worked for 42 years as a forklift operator, currently employed at Michael's distribution center in Lewis County.

Years of daily living and medication have helped him cope with his worst symptoms.

Talking with him casually, you'd never know he'd suffered a brain injury. But when he's tired he loses words and has trouble with his balance. He has problems with numbers. That can pose challenges at work because his employer uses a numeric system to load and unload inventory.

Kenwisher can't remember multiple instructions, so he writes tasks on his hand. He can't play cribbage or pinochle because he can't keep score. He relies on his wife, who works in Thurston County's human resources department, to handle finances.

"I wouldn't be where I am without her support," he said.

On the second Tuesday of each month, he and Kay attend a support group in Olympia. Many attendees' injuries are more severe, leaving them alone and unable to drive or work, in some cases.

Patricia Gabrielse, the facilitator, said Kenwisher offers unique insights because he's both a survivor and someone who has cared for one.

"He's kind of seen it from both sides," Gabrielse said. "It sometimes can be hard when you are in the middle of it to step back and see it objectively."

She said other members sustained injuries from car collisions, assaults, strokes or brain tumors.

Kenwisher said if he suffered the same injury today, he knows he wouldn't be released from the hospital as quickly and would receive help for the coping skills "that I had to figure out on my own."

"It's been a tough road," he said. "But it's been a very rewarding road."