For Quinby resident Kevin Shive, life changed unexpectedly in May 2020 when he became one of more than 5 million people nationwide with an acquired brain injury (ABI).
Shive didn't want to be a nameless statistic.
He is now an at-large voting member on the Virginia Brain Injury Council, a statewide advocacy group formed in 1986. The group is comprised of people with acquired brain injuries, caregivers, community members, healthcare professionals, service providers and state agency representatives.
Its mission is to promote accessible, relevant and affordable services to the roughly 350,000 Virginians in this community by advising the Department of Aging and Rehabilitative Services (DARS) on topics, including disbursing funds.
Shive was living in northern Maryland in 2020 when he experienced vision problems and other changes while working in a tire center at Costco.
His wife, Gwen, took him to the emergency room; because of COVID restrictions, she couldn't go inside. She told him she'd pick him up later.
Shive, however, had a feeling he wouldn’t return home that night.
He was diagnosed with hemangioblastoma, a rare, slow-growing, benign brain tumor. Acquired brain injuries can be labeled traumatic, such as a blow to the head or non-traumatic, occurring from tumors, strokes or illnesses such as encephalitis.
Brain damage caused by congenital, degenerative, hereditary conditions or birth trauma isn't included.
Three days after going to the hospital, Shive was discharged with a 6-inch vertical scar on the back of his head. Removing the tumor saved his life and resolved most of his symptoms, but the side effects from surgery included overwhelming fatigue, trouble swallowing and memory and word recall issues.
“Vertigo when lying down was a scary rush I’d never experienced before,” he said.
After 33 years at his job, Shive had to leave.
In 2022, the family relocated to Quinby to be closer to Gwen’s parents.
People living with brain injuries, including Shive, often refer to themselves in “before” and “after” timelines.
“The old Kevin could be a bit of a jerk at times,” Gwen said. He agreed. Shive said he is more compassionate and empathetic to others than his former self.
“I actually like myself much better now,” Shive said. “You might say the tumor was a gift, in a weird way.”
Shortly after the move, Shive discovered No Limits Eastern Shore in Tasley, near Onancock, an accredited brain injury service provider; it was life-changing. No Limits also provides services in Melfa, the Northern Neck and Middlesex County.
He got active in community events, projects and fundraisers with other brain injury survivors.
“Kevin is a force of nature,” said director Rachel Evans. “He’s a productive, helpful and connected member of our community here.”
Shive became known for his work with cats, which helped in his recovery. In addition to the Shive family cats, he is known as "Cat Daddy Kevin" at the Eastern Shore Regional Animal Control Facility in Melfa.
“Kevin has a way with all cats, from the ferals to the tiniest ones,” said Jeri Winn, the shelter’s manager. “His gentle nature and caring manner wins them over.”
People specifically seek to adopt the cats he has fostered.
Shive also started a feline foster program between No Limits and ESRAC.
On any given day, Shive might be volunteering at the Manna Café or Island Kitties on Chincoteague, counting diamondback terrapins in a creek while kayaking for the Department of Wildlife Resources, where he is a volunteer master naturalist. He tends the pollinator gardens at No Limits and photographs sunrises and sunsets over the water.
Rachel Evans was pleased when Shive was interested in joining the council. Shive was appointed to a four-year term in May 2025 and is on the nominating committee.
The council met remotely this week, and Shive said beforehand he expected they would discuss policies and funding distribution since the state budget was recently passed.
Shive and Evans said there’s a big push to recognize ABI as a chronic condition, especially with insurance companies, because of the long-term impact.
Both also pointed out its often invisible nature.
Shive drives, is articulate and presents himself well in public. People can’t see the struggles with short-term memory and attention span, along with the frustration this causes.
“I’ve received flak for it sometimes because I don’t ‘look’ disabled,” he said. “Whatever that means. It’s hurtful.”
Shive suggests that people who aren’t familiar with brain injury survivors get to know them.
“If you see us when we are out and about, we may look or act different, but don’t be afraid of us. Come up and say hello,” he said. “We’re pretty fun to be around.