1984 reads like a novel

1984: Stranger than Fiction.

Nat Dean's life took an abrupt turn as a vehicle struck hers in 1984. Her world as a successful San Francisco Artist, and Art marketing magnate replete with a six figure salary was tossed asunder just as her body and her brain bounced continuously against the cold metallic boundaries of her vehicle. Nat was struck, struck from behind, back ended, and set on a new course of living.

Since that time, Nat's life has read like a novel surely as surreal and complex as George Orwell’s 1984. Like 1984, Nat’s life is now all about Mind Control. -- Control of the faculties that she once took for granted. Nat must now muster the patience, courage, and faith to make it through each day. As she wanders through the hours, Nat’s mind makes mince meat of chronology, direction, and content.

Having sustained four major surgeries, a wired jaw and a five year spell of eating through a straw, Nat’s condition is now understood to be primarily Traumatic Brain Injury, a relatively new term that simply describes injury to the brain which can be both small and comprehensive as well as temporary or lingering. Nat has the lingering and far reaching variety, which in the medical circle is described as Contra Coux, an all over global brain injury which has left her with chronic pain, headaches, depression, chronic adjustment disorder, and PTSD.

But aside from the unrelenting pain, Nat has had two other constants in her life, Her husband of twenty three years, Paul Singdahlsen, and her beloved Assistance Dogs who have marched alongside her one step and one moment at a time.

Nat’s veritable pet parade began with Frederick in 1990. Frederick (a student at Guide Dogs for the Blind in San Raphael, CA) who was redirected to become an assistance dog) was then a two-year-old German shepherd assistance dog who immediately helped Nat deal with issues of confidence, getting her out of bed and out into the world, as well as helping her with her repeated black out seizures often spawned by flash cameras. Frederick would stand over the struck down Nat, wearing his assistance dog vest, and would bark beckoning on help. Without Frederick, Nat could easily be construed as a drunk or a drug addict. Frederick’s presence and vested credentials gained Nat credibility and from that credibility a greater chance at assistance both from him and humans nearby. Frederick was a veritable Lassie, rescuing his loving owner time and time again. But there were the more subtle scenarios in which Frederick would redirect Nat’s broken compass by putting her on the correct path home, to the car, or round the corner. Frederick’s constant gait would serve to better Nat’s often inconsistent one, and her meager balance was bolstered by his leash and presence.

And then there was just the simple companionship. Nat often found herself alone in the world. Friends that once had stood by in her Artist –high- on -the -hog hey-day had dissipated as her humpty dumpty –ness became apparent. Friends fell off during the 18-24 months when Nat had simply fallen asleep during conversations. Frederick didn’t seem to mind the sudden slumber or the truncated conversation. Frederick stood by her, with attentiveness, kindness, and the almighty unconditional love. Frederick was the friend for the seemingly friendless. Frederick didn’t judge. Frederick didn’t care if his human partner took to napping or disorienting.

As time traveled forward, Fredericks’ hip dysplasia festered and left him unable to provide the assistance that Nat needed. His eight years by her side had come to an end. That’s when Binny, a two year old female German shepherd entered the picture. Nat describes Binny as more intuitive than Frederick (aren’t all females I quipped) When she sensed trouble, Binny lead Nat away, her proactive nature had her dodging cameras before the flashes were set off. In short Binny thought ahead. Binny had been schooled with Guide Dogs for the Blind in San Raphael California, and hadn’t made the cut as a guide dog. Her unplanned career change brought her to Nat’s side where she effectively reduced Nat’s anxiety and served as a bridge between people and Nat. For six sweet years Nat and Binny bounced about traveling as a team until Binny’s sudden death from sepsis at age eight.

Six months later, in May of 2005, T’ai arrived with the help of Assistance Dogs of the West in Santa Fe, New Mexico. After a comprehensive two-week orientation and training period, T’ai became Nat’s newfound friend. Over the course of the last five years T’ai has stood by Nat’s side while Nat’s health suddenly took a turn for the worse. Met with anaphylactic shock, allergic reactions to antibiotic, the appearance of a rare form of blood cancer, pancreatic and gallbladder removal, Tai kept Nat going.

Nat says that during the days that her depression and ill health kept her wanting to stay in bed, she felt compelled to get out of bed to take care of T’ai. Nat credits taking care of T’ai as the stimulus necessary to keep up her awareness of her environment so that she could effectively take care of T’ai while he was taking care of her. For example T’ai would remind her he was hungry, and so in turn she was reminded that she too should eat. Nat fed herself when she fed T’ai.

Nat says that T’ai acknowledged Nat where her once friends had made her invisible through their failure to call or come by. Further, Nat says that her once friends saw her fragility as something objectionable, something that served to remind them of their own mortality and they flew, flew away in droves. T’ai, however, stuck by Nat with complete dedication. Nat fed herself when she fed T’ai. T’ai would remind her he was hungry, and so in turn she was reminded that she too should eat.

In August of 2008, Nat became seriously ill with gallbladder disease and necrosis of the pancreas leaving her too ill even to get out of bed and tend to T’ai. Eight months went by where T’ai through no fault of his own was essentially retired. That period of “disuse” has left T’ai less able to assist Nat now that she is on the mend. So T’ai is set for retirement as unsuspecting puppy is soon to be selected to fill the shoes that T’ai now occupies.

When I stare into Nat’s sweet light colored eyes, I see an innocence and sweetness seen all too infrequently. I ask her to spell out what assistance dogs do for her and others like her. She says, “ Assistance Dogs are a bridge to be able to live in the world when you’re not quite all there…two brains are better than one. “

I look at Nat’s long flowing gray and brown curly locks surrounding her sweet fair face. I listen to her account of the four times in the last 15 or so years she nearly died. My eyes rise above her head camera like to focus on a framed poster on the kitchen wall above her head with the words that read “Never give up no matter what is going on……………..” Words spoken by the Dali Lama. A simple mantra repeated on the poster over and over. Simple words spawning a simple path of regimen and regularity which taken collectively celebrate the very path Nat has taken with the help of her canine friends.