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Root of the Problem

Hello blogging world, Anthony Macchio-Young here. I am going to be responsible for updating my blog from this post on, give my Pops a break. Figured I’d start with the root of the story with the bicycle accident and how I got my TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury).

It all started 6 days after moving to San Mateo to find a Graphic Design job. One of my professors, Jensen Hendriks, had put me in contact with a friend of his who builds apps for iPhones and just moved to San Francisco himself. On the sixth day my bicycle, that I shipped from Florida, had come in the mail the morning of February 1st, 2013, so I thought I’d take the CalTrain up to San Francisco and pedal to the networking party my new connection was having.

Tag  they required I used for my bike on the CalTrain.

Tag they required I used for my bike on the CalTrain.

I left with my bike on the CalTrain in San Mateo at around 6pm. Arrived in San Francisco around 6:45pm and then pedaled myself to one of my true passions in life…craft beer, 21st Amendment brewery and then went to City Beer Store for another craft beer. I pedaled away and realized I was headed in the wrong direction, stopped and asked a couple the way to Russian Hill, they told me and I started pedaling in the right direction. I then turned onto a main road and started going downhill. As I traveled downhill I didn’t notice the trolly track because they were foreign to me. My front bicycle tire then gets caught in the track and I flip over head first (had my helmet on thankfully). I stood up immediately and three bicyclist on the sidewalk saw it all go down and said I needed to go to the emergency room and then stopped a taxi van for me. He put my bike in the back, then asked me where I wanted to go, and I said CalTrain. I waited for around 15 minutes for the CalTrain, got me and my bike on, took a few pictures of my head because I knew something was wrong, but TBIs were so foreign to me I thought it was just a concussion, so I thought staying up throughout the night would do well enough.

Picture taken on the CalTrain to check for any visible wounds.

Picture taken on the CalTrain to check for any visible wounds.

We arrived in San Mateo and I got out, walked my dilapidated bike back to my apartment, then realized I had lost my keys somewhere along the way (thankfully), called a few locksmiths with no luck at 11pm on a Friday night, texted my then girlfriend, who was a flight attendant, that I’d need her to stay up with me that night, then took my jacket off and bunched it up like a pillow, and passed out on the apartment’s community porch (last thing I personally remember). My neighbor, whom I never met, found me and dialed 911. The cops came and thought I was beyond drunk because a bottle of beer that I bought at City Beer Store, Speedway Stout, had broken in my book bag. My neighbor then saw me having seizures because she was very familiar with seeing that with her epileptic brother and recommended that they call an ambulance. The medics were then smart enough to take me to you at Stanford rather than San Francisco General. Dr. Odette Harris, Stanford’s managing TBI neurosurgeon, performed surgery on my Subdural Hematoma on the left side of my brain and I was in ICU for two weeks and one day and then transferred to Kentfield Acute Rehab in Marin County.

Next post will cover my story with recovery in therapy thus far!