It’s a long winding bumpy road “alone,” living with TBIs and devastating physical injuries!
I was not even a shadow of myself. And I am terribly vulnerable in your hands now!
Be careful what you feast on, said a new friend!
Move forward and never look back.
There is no hindsight with TBIs!
There were no answers or recovery. I have many now!
This was very difficult to write here, it is fitting for a book with authenticity due to length and accurate details. I struggle leaving it in this written format; for it was not my idea. It was the book to be written and will be. A True story, no miracles, and a mere amount of support. The journey was agonizing!
I am a Lady with indeterminable resolve, equipped with a brain that someday will die, nevertheless, in the meantime of life, I am here to give hope where there was none. Changing the brain’s format, is not as hard as it seems; it is not done in affirmations or mantras, rather behavior, awareness and recognition, we change the brain’s focus, we change ourselves.
I was told, “Disabled for life.” When hearing these words, my internal Bengal rose and proclaimed ~ Damn to Hell if we are losing!
From hence forth; temporary dysfunctions are the words we state.
My nemesis was Black Ice and Asphalt.
Knowing Colorado, ice and snow, blizzard and such from four other states; I take care of three horses, and never been in a car accident, I know how to navigate. Not that morning! I was Humpty-Dumpty!
Fighting Hartford Insurance for a year as the claim’s adjuster pitted my doctors’ and my words against each other. Did she not fathom we would speak to each other. The future is unseen and at times for our sake. If I had known, a 14 year horror was to be my life; I would had given up that moment!
Asking a lawyer friend, “Please some good lawyer referrals!
A Tort case, I was referred and referred. Ending with two lawyers at one firm, who took 6 months to start! A phone call asking how my therapy was going. I hit the roof “What therapy, that is why I came to you, your paralegal does not return calls! He replied I will get on this tomorrow. My firm reply: What time will you be calling, for I am traveling the hour and forty-five minutes to listen to every word!
They sent me their Neurologist and clinic: The first testing was to stand on one foot with my eyes closed, arms stretched out to touch my nose with my alternating fingers. What does this prove? That I have a TBI?
I’m an equestrian since a toddler, I won a gold metal in gymnastics as a child, was unbeaten in cricket and hockey, my upper and interior self have unwavering balance. Swimming, hand eye coordination, powerful articulate words and multi-languages, figuring out problems are my forte.
I caught onto their ignorance and played the game to have what they deemed was therapy? Taking all my previous skills, medical background as a trauma recovery therapist, and fought!
I wrote six pages of dysfunction, as my first neurologist tossed my dissertation in the the garbage, when he thought I was not looking, I saw his disdain, from that moment on, I read every note from our meetings, and corrected the mistakes. My attorney called me and said, “You are becoming a Difficult patient! My reply was: They are the doctors who ought to be helping me, they need to get this right!
The onset TBI was very serious and misdiagnosed. After the primary testing, the psychologist stated as we sat down: Your test scores are so above average in the superior range you can’t possibly have a TBI. We have spoken about my high-performance as a person, with intelligence tested since 4 years of age. You’re inadequate; the only thing we agree upon is that you should retire! was my reply
Beware of educated Redheads, we are born with an internal Bengal for protection!
The oddities post concussive syndromes show in the following weeks and months; vehement torture.
Unexplained forgetfulness, from second to second, balance, frustration, inability to speak or speak incoherently non-stop; walking straight in through doors were impossible feats, I became so bruised from all the door jams. Tripping at every crack in cement, carpeting, rugs – gravel was my enemy. Still counting six pages and more!
In my third year as I sat wondering, how did I remember, never forgetting a face or name from single introductions; all conversation, dates, business documents, what happened to my memory? Reading, studying was my love, Keynote speaker and corporate trainer, I had lost my words! I was a fast study, how did I function so well, where did it all go?
My photographic memory was severely damaged!
TBIs hold it’s victims hostage, prisoner in our own brain!
I cried bitterly with my two Arabian horses by my side, how I missed riding them. SriZhada and I would jump 5 feet plus over fences and ditches, his footing and body movements, where motion of grace, with ease I kept my balance. I never was able to ride him again, he died this past April 2017.
Catastrophic Tinnitus: the multitude of high pitched screams, to low dull drones in my head continuously, giving way to profound insomnia. I taught myself how to “hear lips!” Thereby no one knows I am almost deaf.
Severe panic disorder! Was this seizures? No one explained! Lights painfully disturbed my eyes; thinking I had night blindness, it was the halogen lights or cell phone cameras lights that cause excruciating pain.
Picking up a pen to immediately jot a note, please remember please remember; the very action would cause…BLANK!
Extreme frustration mounts, rage comes in a flash, no control, But Why ~ What Happened ~ Please someone explain: Silence!
Helpful people in conversation, their suggestions leads to a TBI brain duped! Convoluted thoughts into a myriad of directions, conversations become a labyrinthine of thoughts, leaving others bewildered, staring, wondering, to whom am I speaking to?
The glitches are random, TBI people are often fully functional, until the oddity in the brains wiring that became distorted begins it odd behavior, without an invitation!
My intelligence is not gracious when in excruciating pain: my first shoulder surgery was a nightmare, being allergic to all drugs great care was taken, I stayed in the private hospital for three days.
A pump was placed on my freshly surgical shoulder; I screamed in pain with the nurses rushing into my private room. Get this thing off of me, I demanded! The rebuttal was, it keep the blood flowing, I don’t care, get it off of me!
As they fiddled with the on/off switch in the dark, I reached and ripped the velcro attachment relieving my agonizing pain. The nurses stood shocked! “When looking for a solution, go to the primary cause! I shut up at that moment as their wide eyes gazed in astonishment.
Later in years, finding law suits escalating due to the malfunctioning mechanism, causing irreparable shoulder damage. Listen to your gut instincts!
When leaving the private surgery, my wonderful Dr. Stull told me, the pain meds where ready at the pharmacy.
I had called my lawyer’s paralegal 2 weeks prior and continued to leave messages; please make sure there is a guaranteed approval for pain before my surgery, and have them ready for immediate pickup; remember I live two hours away. They forgot!
My driver and I waited, called, sat in the car, the pharmacy never obtained approval> Calling my attorney, no answer! The hospital pain meds were wearing off, causing escalating excruciating pain. No pain relief for that night!
The next day a visiting nurse who was per-approved to visit my ranch daily as I recovered the first two weeks, she came with medication. Not checking my allergic history, she came with Vicodin, the same as Morphine, it increases pain! I am allergic to both.
Five days without pain medication! The lawyers took a week to return my calls. In pain, I drove my car an hour to the nearest store, purchasing 2 bottles of Tylenol and IB Profane, in offering some relief.
The month prior to surgery, both of my dogs had died. Sebastian my Rottweiler was hanging on at 13 years old. He died the exact Monday before my first shoulder surgery. Both Dogs’ ashes sit by my fireplace. There is no time to grieve.
An IME was arranged, only an audio taping was recording, faulty wiring rendered the exam invalid. STATIC!
The IME doctor fired questions after questions, knowing my aphasia consumed my speech. I stood uncomfortably half naked, confusion and panic rose. I have a TBI and my body screams of pain from the fall! This IME doctor is out to prove I was not injured! Asking as I shivered, I want to put my clothing back on. Shaking from panic and embarrassment devoured all my senses. The IME doctor demanded I stay half naked, with an unequivocally, NO!
My fieriness rose from depths inside, and my eyes became fixated; the doctor succumbed, while I clothed myself, never capitulating my torrent gaze!
Other doctors were arranged to see, the opposing counsel was out to win his case; loyal good man with integrity.
During the deposition, the opposing attorney was more concerned about my extreme difficulties, he insisted upon breaks. His face resonated acute concern, compassionate and care recognizing why I could not speak. I pleaded silently, “please be my attorney, it is obvious you care, you see how challenging all these questions are as you ask. You see I can’t answer, you see the confusion and fatigue I am suffer! His face is one I will never forget!
My attorney glared at me when the breaks were mentioned, as if saying: we do not have time for you to gather your TBI thoughts! My internal Bengal could not be commanded to fight for me!
My lawyer and I attended arbitration, more questions, more faltering in answering, panic again absorbed my mind. I asked my attorney, “how am I doing?” He scoffed and laughed at me! His words were demeaning and disparaging! “Ha, you do not know yourself well enough to know how you are doing here?” Again the aphasia imprisoned me.
At the end of a year and half saga, I was slapped with a subjugation and left to deal with my painful crippled body and escalating TBIs for another 10 years.
Deciding to liquidate and leave my ranch, move to Santa Fe, NM.; I could qualify for insurance in a year. Maybe someone could help me find out what was wrong with my body and my brain.
More planning ensued, tearing at my brain in figuring out all necessities, as my body shrilled in pain, crippled, I decided we must find a new home for my family. A new home, move my two Arabians horses, my cat and new Service dog, Sade, whom I found at a local Humane society. Still having many abilities, I did not question my actions, I trained Sade and had her certified in less than a month.
Making temporary arrangements, packing small art, antique furnishing and over 100 boxes. I found a well known [double gated, employee on duty, double locked doors] storage facility. Now to drive multiple times to Santa Fe for a rental home, not knowing how long I would stay. I don’t know all that is wrong with me, and I must take huge risks for my future, to have a life once again.
Two weeks before my move final move was to culminate, living in a temporary cottage, I went to Pony Express storage in Parker arranging a pick up time and move everything to my temporary cottage where I was living. The employee was taking an inordinate amount of time to come unlock one of their locks on my door. Walking to the 10 foots chain-linked fence down by a gully, I found my expensive handmade terracotta lamp, I had purchased in a Toas gallery years earlier; smashed in smithereens. The employee questioning why I was by the tall fence? “That is my lamp, it costed $$$$ “Are you sure” he asked? “YES!”
Later as I moved my things to my temporary cottage, repacking boxes, I found 20 years worth of my antiquarian collection hand made silver candle holders and candelabras all missing, which once decorated my beautiful Hysterical Victorian. Diamond and ruby ring I purchased from Bloomingdale’s in NYC decades prior, after accomplishing a monumental job. Another diamond ring was gone, gifted to me by my best friend who had passed on. Many unique – one of a kind silver and blown glass art, all were missing from 10 or so boxes. I am an art and antiquarian collector of refine beauty, there is never a price tag on such items where insurance could reimburse: this is Art, one of a kind! More LOSS ~ No Time to Grieve!
Disoriented, confusion mixed with exhaustion and pain, traveling back and forth to Santa Fe, desperate to find a home for my family. I thought the best idea would be, hire a professional moving company Allied Van Line.
I was told by one packing man, the boxes will not be tagged. And I remembered the third man looking at me, rather oddly, as if saying NO, this is not right. In my TBI disorientated mind, this meant they were not to inspect the contents. So I agreed.
We left for Santa Fe, and assure by Allied Van Line, they could hold everything, safely in one locked truck for two weeks. September 12 was my move in date, I stayed with a new friend. My Arabians stayed in Colorado till that date, it was agony to be separated.
The day came to move into our little 6 acres rental, a tiny house, my horses would be delivered the next day. Exhaustion – pain enveloped me, no human limitations I could allow myself.
When delivered, I signed the papers as if everything were intact. The furniture, antiques and larger pieces of art were fine, except for a few starches, all seemed perfect, until unpacking 80 some boxes; I recalled having over 100. Yes, more stolen by Alied Van Line employees, over $7000.00 dollars worth in precious non replaceable collectables.
I called Allied, after making a long list; It is all missing! We fought for 9 months and was told, get two lawyers, one from Colorado and Chicago. Knowing how much lawyers cost, verses a loss. The cheaper was the $7000.00; LOSS!
At least my Arabians were healthy and I was elated to see them! They galloped around the property, Sade in full pursuit of joy, my heart sank deep, simply having them around. No barn, no shed, this would be another long arguing issue for I offered to pay and build.
Now left completely on my own, instincts had to filter through all the dysfunctions as I paid out of pocket for the continuing care for over a year; medical absorbs funds as a famished lion.
Attending invites to parties by new friends. Each time while attending celebratory functions, exhaustion would consume me (I did not understand the lack of my once never ending energy). Graciously approaching my hostess, smiling through pain; I have horses to feed! My apologies it is time for me to leave.
Sade waiting in the car, with her guidance I could find my way back to our rental home, where my Arabians had already been fed.
Now living in Santa Fe with insurance coverage, I thought my recovery might take 2 or 3 years, at best. My new PCP said, “I have never known anyone to have had over 30 scans of their brain and body” and still counting.
In 2010 finding another surgeon; a powerful hug and scalpel. He gave me the list of surgeries to come: Right shoulder, spine, both knees, left foot….
No one told me to sleep! You need REM sleep to recover, no one understood the importance for sleep for TBIs. Instead, in all attempts to regain the person I was, I rapidly failed, extreme panic disorder dominated; there was no Kissing the Beast,
I had yet to deal with the now mounting 8 TBIs. I sought out “trauma therapists, [I was a therapist in Trauma Recovery, I know what to look for]. The first therapist fell asleep during our one and only session. I have never viewed myself as boring!
First the right shoulder in September of 2010: during physical therapy, as I laid on Heather’s table, thinking about the pain in my left hip, a vision came, more than 7 years later! “Heather, I just remembered my fall. I heard and felt my hip popped, the muscles and tendons ripped and watched my thigh muscle ripple up my leg. MicheleElys, [Heather speaking] your hip and thigh have not healed properly, we need to work through this pain and your shoulder at the same time; are you able to ride your horse?
November of 2010 I found Dr. Fitz, a great therapist; we worked with a new technique called Brain-spotting. She said, MicheleElys, it’s all up to you to heal your damaged brain. I will be going on a two year sabbatical this coming April, we have until then. Pressure!
A referral to a new neurologist sent me to a new PT group for my dizzies [this is vestibular problems not physical therapy!].
Warning!: If a therapist is not examining and watching the performance of your body, instead a check list of exercises, get the hell out!
In 45 minutes, she gave me a hula-hoop to play with, as she left for10 minutes. Returning, she had me stand on foam thick bedding, as she checked her list. Never checking my body for spasms or balance; my hip tore again. As I left, an irascible receptionist with an unwelcoming demeanor restated, remember “24 hour cancellation policies for your next visit.” Incredulous, “Was I not on time? “Yes, you were, this is a reminder.”
I thought about my therapy and canceled, I’m going back to Heather.
Receiving a bill for$50, I called and spoke to the owner, the conversation went thus: “MicheleElys, you have 24 hours to cancel an appointment, you didn’t.” “Karen, please check your log, I canceled at 11:45, I wrote it down” Karen replied: “that was 23.15 hours prior, not within our 24 hour time frame!” The Bengal rose inside of me and before he pounced, Karen offered, “I will refund this $50.00, and MicheleElys could you find… “interrupting: Karen, I will not be returning!
April 2011, my right knee had a full replacement, with five days in a private hospital. When returning home, my 82 year old neighbor came each day to help me walk, with a walker and Sade. Walking me up and down the street, neighbors came to their fences, cheering me on, Keeping going MicheleElys, you are doing great!
Time came to deal with the mounting TBIs, finding Dr. Betsy Williams in Albuquerque. I called – she heard my disjointed conversation; she was 3 months scheduled out. Asking me to hold for a moment, returning with “can you come in – in two weeks?” Concerned about the long 1.5 hour drive, “Can you make it?” I said, “I moved from Colorado with two horses, my Sade and cat, I will there on time with the dizzies. My sensible thinking had taken a permanent vacation.
The results: Dr. Williams read the original TBI diagnoses and said it was trash. “MicheleElys, 5 1/2 years after your fall, you still have a very serious TBI and I had no one to send you to!” Dismayed!
September my right knee was weak, time to move into a condo on third floor with purpose. The Stairs [!!] would help me heal and regain my strength.
I climbed 5-8 times daily 101 stairs, then walking 100 feet inside hallway to my apartment. By November, my knee was capable to finally ride my Arabian in the arena.
A small group of people were gathered in the arena. I had forgotten how to halter and tack up my Arabian, several giggled as I mounted. Walking around the sandy arena, then trotting in the sunlight, Joy filled my body, my face glowed with smiles, finally!
A man asked, “MicheleElys how is your first ride? In response I yelled, “This is the most wondrous moment, I think it is better than great sex!” They all laughed.
Getting more exercise, I would run up and down to the second floor to use the free WiFi. Walking at a fast pace the 200 hundred feet to the stairwell, nothing was going to stop me, except my continual tripping on carpeting.
Back to Heather, “what is wrong with me, I can’t stop falling, now reaching 10 TBIs and no income for 9 years.
“You need uninterrupted Sleep!SLEEP, DEEP REM SLEEP!
The last surgery in April, 2013 [non invasive]. Pain once again devoured my body, another MRI found two kidney stones, one 2 mm and 9mm. General anesthetic “Laparoscopic,” Final analysis: it was the unnecessary barium test order by Dr. Kennedy in Colorado, who needlessly ruined my digestive system, for life.
In 2013, since I could work due to TBI dysfunctions, vestibular malfunctions, noone understood. Quickly going into poverty, with no income for 9 years, I thought this was the perfect time to write a book!
Sitting at a window seat with hot water and my own tea bag, writing for 6 to 8 hours twice weekly. Jason the owner approached me and said, “I have never seen anyone work with such constant rapid typing on a computer. When your book is published, I am putting “MicheleElys Wrote Here” on this table! Eight months I wrote over 610,000 words. I guess there are 3 books now.
While writing I read the dictionary and thesaurus, relearning my vocabulary and slow reading abilities, comprehension and assimilation took another 6 months. This is when I began my studies in neuroscience, albeit arduous, I had to relearn everything, and I had recovered from my TBIs, it was time to study and go home to Colorado.
Would life ever resume?
Returning in June 2014 to Colorado, I was elated. Found a room in a house to stay with my horses in back on two acres.
The landlord/roommate had some family problems, he left to care for his father in California. Telling me, MicheleElys use the truck to get wood for the iron wood stove for winter heat.
The tailgate was jammed, and my being a problem solver, impossible is not part of my world! Climbing in the back-bay, grabbing the faulty handle to lift up and open the tailgate; it weighed about the same as my body. The tailgate plunged me out on the hard gravel driveway, plunging head first on my left frontal lobe. I screamed so loud, my neighbor heard me several acres away came running in a panic.
My 11th TBI, I know what to do! SLEEP! Forgetting my bruised face while grocery shopping, people starred at me with shock. I told one person, my horse kicked me, that stopped the questions and conversation.
Home to Denver!
The final blow incapacitated me, in 2016. Staying at Airbnb’s, a man growing marijuana in the basement, he was kind to ask, would you care for some? “I am allergic to all drugs.” He stated to the other two roommates, do not smoke in the house.
I took a shower late Wednesday morning, Jennifer Daye Helms, a part-time roommate, went into my room, sifting through my computer bag, finding a portfolio, inside hiding my check book and ID. Jennifer systematically ripped out checks taking along my ID; then finding my car keys went through my car, again finding the hidden new checks in a bag under the seat, systematically once again, ripping out different checks.
On Saturday, checking my excel spreadsheet against the online banking account there were checks marked NSF. There was a check written to a salon for $330. I called the salon, it was Jennifer Daye Helms forging my checks with my ID. She is a blonde, I am a RedHead. Another check to Loaf N Jug for $34.68 (where Jennifer was videoed), came more NSF fees: Best Buy -$5643.34, T-mobile -$395, At The Beach tanning salon $325. Remembering the odd questions Jennifer asked me about my Arabians, I immediately called both banks. “There has been fraud” in all accounts.
What I did not know, when there is potential fraud, until proven guilty all accounts are closed, no funds are returned, including NSF charges, leaving me no money to live on. I packed my car, after telling the owner about his semi-girl friends thievery, Jennifer is spending 6 years in jail with an additional 6 running concurrent for ?? good behavior!
Not having a place to live, no funds and no bank accounts, Sade and my cat went to Columbine library to walk in the park and think.
My cat has a harness and lead, he loves green grass and rides in the car, but it was snowy cold, and I had to figure out where would we stay.
I had lost my life to a long injury, now with my 11th TBI, stolen ID and forged checks, who would believe me> No family to speak of, now not a dollar to my name. A cold night was upon us.
Hearing once from horse people, Walmart was amenable for them to park their trailers, I head to a higher end Walmart area and parked.
Having a few cans of cat and dog food with kibble for each, an avocado, bread and water, I looked around for some hidden cash in jacket sleeves. I felt exposed! Cars were coming in and parking, I found one truck with a generator with a spot behind him under a tree; this felt safer. Allowing Sade out to relieve herself, thinking how to protect myself, how do I clean up, I am no stranger to starving.
Taking my laptop, inside, I found only a MacDonald’s. The man asked if I wanted something to eat, “No thank you, but I would appreciate a glass of water and ice.” He said the cup was on the house [Oh I didn’t know they charged]! With only $4 plus some change, thinking of Sade and my cat, they will need food, I can live on water and bread maybe? I had to black out the car windows. With $0.62, a full tank of gas will get us through a cold night. During the day, I washed and cleaned up in the bathroom, then scrambled back to the banks, asking for at least the NSF charges to be returned in a new account. That gave me $144.00 we could live on this for a bit in Walmart parking lot.
I had to swallow what remained of my pride and went to Human Service, applying for food stamps, EBT card; this was mortifying. I was cleared after an investigation into my critically injured past health records!
A woman called me on the phone and said: “If we find out you have more income per month, we will hunt you down for the rest of your life, sending you to the streets until we get all our money back plus interest. This is Human Service Social Terrorism in the U.S.!
Now beaten down to homelessness, I lost all hope of ever regaining my life.
As I gazed into their deep brown eyes realizing, it is not fair to them if I left.
KlassicAmir and my dog Sade kept me on this earth.
It was My Arabian KlassicAmir who saved my life!
My first plan was to walk in front of a speeding Mac truck going 60 miles per hour. It would guarantee my death, but what would the person live with, the rest of their life?
My next plan was, to take all the remaining pills from my surgeries. Ditch my car, first after changing the plates multiple times, head to the mountains, fall asleep and be food for the mountain lions. No one would ever find my body. I was this desperate! Thanks to a new friend who helped me get a small apartment, I became an AirBnB superhost within a month and had my first income after almost 14 years.
GRIT- MY HORSE AND SADE NEED ME TO LIVE!
DETERMINATION Fighting The Odds Piling Against Us!
Several more dysfunctions to be ameliorated.
Transient Amnesia lived on the fringes of my life, without a moments notice, I would lose myself, my whereabouts, who I was, where I was going, even my knowledge of Sade and my Arabian horses.
I completely dissipate-dissolved into nowhere, not knowing anything of my life. This is part of TBIs.
Sade knows how to find our car, and she knows to keep me clam; she knows when I get lost in parking lots, she will whimper until I find her.
“I’m not living this way, if the rest could be resolved, so can Transient Amnesia!
I became my own lab-rat and founded, CNB~ Cognitive Neural Behavior, a progressive form of Self-Guided Neuroplasticity through my brain-spotting.
As I follow my own directive in rest and neural behavior, a deep conscious correction using my Hyper Vigilance as a skill to guide me in remapping my entire damage brain, regaining my photographic memory, my articulation, speed in writing, speaking, memory, balance, and the last several TBI horrors culminating to 13. I cured all Transient Amnesia episodes and the onset of Parkinson.
Through recognition in a confused state, right before the amnesia set in, I could think my way through, cognitively. Demanding of myself go to TJoes during busy times to food shop, asking my friend Joan who worked there, I’m on the verge please help me shop and then be on my way. “MicheleElys are you sure, you have no colour in your face.” “I am sure, I am going to cure this brain problem before it kills me!” Checking out with my bag of groceries, Joan asked, “Can you find your way home?” Yes, I have mapped it out in my visual brain. Sade and I will get home safely, thank you.”
I no longer have Transient Amnesia, nor the onset of Parkinson’ and am retraining my pro-preceptors to gauge within a millimeter for distance in reaching and stepping.
The only inevitable parts of life are, Change and Death!
Appreciation: for what I will learn, people I will meet, what I will speak, with whom I will work, educating the inconceivable freedoms!
I am the Dragon Slayer of Myths!
Know your body and Listen to your instincts; realize the incredible abilities of your brain; it’s an ever changing universe, capable of untold phenomenons. Our brain is our own natural pharmaceutical, use drugs as a tool. Speak candidly with a “Good Doctor who is dedicated to knowledge.”
I have never shared my story, writing a book instead. This past month a person said – Tell Your Story!
This is my Rebel Call !
I Moved FORWARD
With each disaster, knowing; There is a life to be lived with Love and Joy!
Bringing all that I have learn, and culminating Intellect!
This is my future as I offer my knowledge to you!
March is TBI awareness month, please be aware!
Dedicated to Behavioral Solutions for the betterment of life. ©
About the Author: Dragon Slayer of *Myths*™ MicheleElys is a Writer – Keynote Speaker. Innovative Behavioral Solutions & TBI Trauma Recovery. Founder of CNBR [cognitive neural behavior rewiring]. © MicheleElys All Rights Reserved
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