An Unbreakable Melody: The Journey of a Brain Injury Survivor Turned Storyteller

About Nikole

The story behind the storyteller's life.

Nikole Joie, a vibrant soul born in the late 90s, grew up against the bustling backdrop of New York City, the only cherished child of Asian parents who journeyed from the Philippines in search of a better life as dedicated nurses.

From her earliest days, Nikole captivated her parents' hearts with an innate affinity for music. Even in her infancy, they would gently rock her to sleep while soft melodies floated through the air, wrapping her in a cocoon of soothing harmony.

By the time she started to take her first wobbly steps at the tender age of eight months, her curiosity knew no bounds. Each day was an adventure, and her eager spirit explored every nook and cranny of her environment, a trait that would soon transform not only her life but also that of her family.

On a languid late summer afternoon in 2001, a palpable stillness enveloped the world, as if time itself held its breath. Just two years old and full of boundless energy, Nikole became the unwitting center of a heart-stopping moment.

In her eagerness to assist her father, who was backing the family car into the driveway after dropping some groceries inside the house, she chased him. She darted toward the storm door, her small form colliding with the vehicle's unforgiving side while it was in motion. The impact sent her tumbling to the ground, her delicate body crumpling against the unforgiving pavement.

In the instant that followed, a surge of raw panic gripped her father's heart as he rushed to the scene. There lay Nikole, a fragile spirit stunned into silence, only a few tears escaping her eyes. The sight of blood oozing from a minor wound made time feel as if it had both raced forward and stood still. Adrenaline coursing through him, her father shouted for her mother to prepare for a trip to the emergency room.

Meanwhile, fate intervened in the form of a vigilant neighbor who had witnessed the incident unfold and dialed 911. Nikole's parents, frantic and determined, instead of waiting for the ambulance, decided to drive straight to the ER where her father once worked.

Despite her calm demeanor, a deep anxiety simmered beneath the surface as they rushed to the nearest emergency room. Both parents, seasoned emergency room nurses, could sense the gravity of the situation; they feared that their precious daughter might have sustained a serious intracranial injury, a thought that chilled them to the bone as they fought to keep their little girl safe.

Arriving at the same hospital where she was born, Nikole, as she was carried to the hallways of the ER, was met by the team of nurses and doctors who were once co-workers of her dad. Dad was delighted to see his most trusted team! It was a good sign.

No seconds wasted, the team knew exactly what to do. The next critical moment was spent on diagnostic evaluation: CT-scan, blood work, and the whole nine yards.

Since the hospital where Nikki, as she is fondly called by her family and friends, was taken to is not equipped to handle such critical care for a child her age, Nikki was immediately transferred to a Children's Trauma Hospital in Westchester County, NY.

Arriving there in critical condition, with an IV hanging and emergency apparatus on board, Nikki was quickly ushered to the Intensive Care Unit. There in the hospital ICU, with lights blurred into a sterile haze, Nikole was immediately sedated and placed into an induced coma and placed on a breathing machine to protect her. She slipped into critical care, and the first few days were harrowing.

Days stretching into an eternity. Her parents clung to hope, their hands trembling as they watched her fight, tethered to machines that whispered life back into her.

After a week, her condition improved. Although not entirely out of danger, Nikole's medical management was downgraded to intermediate care. She was moved out of the ICU and into a monitored unit.

Another week had passed, and although she had lost her vision, her ability to swallow, speak, or even recognize the people around her, Nikole had shown remarkable improvement. She will continue to be admitted to a facility for rehabilitation.

The road ahead was a shadowed one, but it was there, in the depths of that struggle, that her story began to take root. For four months, she navigated rehab in a wheelchair, her neck cradled in a support brace, the muscle strength to hold her head stolen away. Swallowing became a memory, replaced by the cold intrusion of a naso-gastric feeding tube that sustained her fragile frame.

Step by step—literally—she relearned to stand, to walk, each movement a victory etched in sweat and tears. Yet, the scars of that day lingered. Her left hand, once nimble, now bore a neurodeficit, its full functionality lost to the shadows of her injury. A neurosurgeon, peering into the complexities of her brain, likened her condition to Cerebral Palsy, setting her on a lifelong path of physical therapy and occupational therapy that spanned years of determination.

School was a battlefield of a different kind. Focus slipped through her fingers like sand, landing her in special education, where teachers and aides became her allies. High school graduation was a triumph, a testament to her grit, but the world beyond felt uncertain.

She enrolled in community college, chasing a journalism major, her words a lifeline to a future she couldn't yet see. Then came the COVID-19 pandemic, a global pause that shifted her classes online. The remote learning sparked a shift—journalism faded from her heart, replaced by a deeper calling. Her hands, though challenged by dexterity, found solace in writing, with the aid of a computer, a self-employment path that embraced her limitations and turned them into strengths. Her journey wasn't solitary. The unwavering love of her parents and the steady support of friends wove a safety net beneath her dreams.

In her earliest days of recovery, they gifted her a musical workshop, a haven where her voice soared. Singing became her refuge, her stage presence a dazzling light that earned her frequent invitations to perform at events.

Today, she shares that joy on her YouTube channel—not for profit, but as a pure, untainted hobby, a melody that echoes her resilience. She loves to write her songs too. Each note she hits is a reminder of the child who fought to stand, to walk, to live.

Writing, though, is her most authentic passion. Through her fiction novels, she pours her soul into stories that dance with mystery and hope, each page a mirror to her battles.

Her remarkable ascent to adulthood, forged in the fire of trauma and tempered by love, fuels her desire to inspire.

Her resilience and recovery, though not without traces of the injury, as devoted Christians, she and her family believed, is nothing short of a miracle.

Through her writings, both novel and music, she desires to connect with others who bear the invisible scars of traumatic brain injury—urging them never to lose hope. In this digital age, where AI trends dominate, she sees a world of opportunity.

"Explore your love, your passion," she whispers through her words, "stay relevant, be a valuable contributor to our community."

Her left hand may falter, but her spirit does not.

With every keystroke, every lyric, she crafts a legacy of courage, proving that even in the broken places, a story—and a song—can rise.