21. Speak to me directly, not about me to others.

22. Cheer me on. Expect me to recover completely, even if it takes twenty years!

23. Trust that my brain can always continue to learn.

24. Break all actions down into smaller steps of action.

25. Look for what obstacles prevent me from succeeding on a task.

26. Clarify for me what the next level or step is so I know what I am working toward.

27. Remember that I have to be proficient at one level of function before I can move on to the next level.

28. Celebrate all of my little successes. They inspire me.

29. Please don't finish my sentences for me or fill in words I can't find. I need to work my brain.

30. If I can't find an old file, make it a point to create a new one.

31. I may want you to think I understand more than I really do.

32. Focus on what I can do rather than bemoan what I cannot do.

33. Introduce me to my old life. Don't assume that because I cannot play like I used to play that I won't continue to enjoy music or an instrument, etc.

34. Remember that in the absence of some functions, I have gained other abilities.

35. Keep me familiar with my family, friends, and loving support. Build a collage wall of cards and photos that I can see. Label them so I can review them.

36. Call in the troops! Create a healing team for me. Send word out to everyone so they can send me love. Keep them abreast of my condition and ask them to do specific things to support me—like visualize me being able to swallow with ease or rocking my body up into a sitting position.

37. Love me for who I am today. Don't hold me to being the person I was before. I have a different brain now.

38. Be protective of me but do not stand in the way of my progress.

39. Show me old video footage of me doing things to remind me about how I spoke, walked, and gestured.

40. Remember that my medications probably make me feel tired, as well as mask my ability to know what it feels like to be me.

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