Fred is a 28-year-old graduate of a University of California school, a liberal arts major with a 3.2 grade point average. He describes himself as a "regular guy," with an interest in shooting hoops, football, and hanging out with his buddies. In addition, he's pretty sure he'd be a good lawyer at that--his uncle and older brother are--but "with my crappy G.P.A. and lousy LSAT scores I'll probably never make it." Fred has always been someone who's had to study hard but never did a good job studying. He found that he got frequently spaced out, would try putting in all-nighters but never really recall what he studied once the sun had set. Fred found that he got along well with teachers in the classes he took a particular interest in. He almost always got A's with an occasional B, and could "ace the class" unless there was a term paper or an essay test. Fred did a horrible job when writing either "off the top of his head" as in an essay test or getting his act together enough to turn out a decent term paper. He described with some chagrin that on more of a couple of occasions he bought term papers or at the very least "got some very heavy help" from some of the "educational assistants" associated with his fraternity. Fred had an excellent sense of humor--dry, glib, conceptual--and he could talk with enthusiasm about things that were really interesting to him: sports. Here's the short version of the "big question" that came to our minds: if Fred was as bright as his pithy repartee, quick sense of humor and ability to give us the highlights of 10 or 12 recent football games suggested, why was his handwriting so crappy on his brief writing sample? What could possibly explain the apparent "stupid quotient" on his writing test? The short answer: a mild head injury he suffered at about age 8 when he and some of his friends went "sledding and I hit a tree." None of this was particularly meaningful to Fred as he described his days of growing up in Michigan. In response to the question "did you ever lose consciousness in an accident" he remembered that yes, he had, but it was such a long time ago that things were confusing. A research and review of his medical records, and school records from his 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th grade teachers showed that his ability to conceptualize significantly decreased around the time of the head trauma. In this case it had been mild, but not so mild because it affected Fred's ability to abstract, conceptualize, and organize some of his thinking processes. Often times learning disabilities are caused by a physiological event such as a trauma that affects a learning style or study style, resulting in a person's inability to organize. Fred had "missed the boat" when it came to the ability to maintain an internal organization with which to absorb and store his information. The combination of (1) a physical event--the accident, and (2) the learning event--how he became disorganized and how it affected his reading, studying, organizing and writing, might well have been picked up had it occurred to him or a family member to ask about these things. Many people who have mild traumatic brain injury and the learning disability that could result from it don't "look broken" to themselves or their family. They seem to walk and talk pretty much the same to most observers, who wouldn't find a reason to measure their condition "before the injury" to the condition afterwards. In this case, the acquired learning disability was compensated to some extent by his quick wit, ability to passionately learn about things that genuinely interested him and sufficient intelligence to get by with a 3.2 G.P.A. Our assessment, which included interviews, a review of his educational and medical history, and neuro-psychological, psychological and educational testing showed a more complete picture of who he was. The treatment: teaching him to use his strengths more fully. A technique he used to accomplish this was to speak into a tape recorder and "translate the story" of what he learned to an intelligent 15-year-old, making it feel more "real and meaningful" to Fred. He was able to get compensated for his disability in the form of extra time for the examination, allowing him to use the tools he needed educationally and the opportunity to apply he had learned. The result: his LSAT scores shot from a 45th to 85th percentile, allowing him not just to get into a better school, but to understand that how he took the test with the awarding of the special accommodations under the American with Disabilities Act gave him equal footing with others that weren't handicapped. This is the exact purpose for which the law was designed. Fred's treatment of learning therapy allowed him to do the best he could with his strengths, and learn how to accommodate for and minimize, to the fullest degree possible, his weaknesses. Three years later, Fred was prepping for the bar, with every expectation of passing the BAR with his newfound learning approach, and conquering potential hurdles in career by using study aides such as speech recognition software, competent secretarial or administrative assistance, and relying on his own intelligence to speak off the top of his head using a list of points he had briefly outlined on paper. Fred had a physical disturbance. He was diagnosed with a learning disability acquired through mild traumatic brain injury. Our assessment involved a lot of detective work in an area Fred was only beginning to understand-his own learning style. Fred's learning style incorporated not just his disability but also his strengths: his intelligence and creative style. A summary of his assessment would show he'd be a 3 in his physical domain, 9 in emotional, 6 in content, and 4 in skills.