V – Day

Published on 8 October 2009 in Progress. 27 Comments

171 days ago, on ANZAC day our much loved son, brother, grandson and friend of so many Darryl Sabin, entered a monumental battle of his own, the fight for his life.  Today, after surviving what seemed unsurvivable and drawing on every ounce of character, spirit and determination over the past five months Darryl has made his way back to us and is home again.

Yesterday was our last day at the rehab that Darryl spent over four months at and I made good on a promise I made to Darryl on the first day we arrived there in an ambulance; we walked out of there – literally.  Flanked by three of the staff from the rehab who have been so much a part of Darryl’s life and recovery, Darryl and I walked from his room, up the driveway and out the gateway and across the road to where I had parked the car.

When we got to the end of the driveway Darryl and I stopped and I turned to him and said, “you did it mate.  I am so proud of you”, shortly after which we both dissolved into tears and galvinised our feelings in a hug.  At that moment ,the thousands of hours of hard work, pain, tears, share grit and determination became one of freedom and achievement.  There have been so many poignant moments on this journey to date but few compare to that of watching Darryl pick up the last handful of stones from that mountain which he has moved.

The day was filled with symbolism and meaning.  We were privileged once again to have a visit from All Black coach Graham Henry, who made a special trip out to see us.  Why?  Well Graham told Darryl as he shook his hand.  “I’m here because you are an inspiration Darryl, you are an inspiration to all of us and you have touched a lot of lives”.  Darryl’s eyes sparkled with absolute pride (well deserved as it is) as the leader of All Black rugby, whose eyes also filled with tears, expressed his total unadulterated admiration.  I have the utmost respect for him and the sincerity with which he has stood by my son.   He was there on day one, just by a twist of fate and he has continued the journey wth us.

And to complete the day of symbolism we also made something of a pilgrimage back to where this journey began on D-Day.  Another promise I had made to Darryl was that before we left we would go back to critical care and allow those so dedicated to saving life to share in the spoils of their labours.  It was with a significant degree of trepidation that Darryl, Brenna, Catherine and I walked back up to those fateful doors into ward 82.  Those doors that for so long I couldn’t even bear to look at let alone walk through.  Strangely enough, as we stood waiting for one of the doctors who was expecting us, to let us in, those feeling melted away and were replaced with a sense of pride and tinged with excitement.

We met with two of the doctors who were at the coal face of Darryl’s survival, along with a lovely nurse who had been something of a rock to us in those early days.  I am sure they were thrilled to see Darryl, to shake his hand (right hand at that) and to talk with him.  The mortality rate from that ward is something in the order of 14 percent.  Over 80 percent of people that pass through those doors will not come out alive.  The fact that Darryl was one who cheated the odds, is humbling beyond anything a parent should ever experience, but something I will treasure selfishly.

Having shared our journey with the staff we went to the exact area (or space as it is called) that Darryl was in while in that ward.  It was like stepping though into a parallel universe, but this time with a suit of armour adorned to deflect the thousands of knives that had previously cut away at vulnerable emotions.  Darryl was shown around the space and was wide eyed as the nurse talked him through the equipment that supported his survival as he clung tenuously to life.  It was a surreal experience and one that will hopefully give Darryl a mental reference point of the journey at its outset and for us a degree of closure and a step towards healing those scars which remain unquestionably raw.

It was literally a case of closing the door as we walked back out of those doors and turned around to look back and share another one of the hugs. (photo below) ’Clunk’….. another door closes.

It was a day of  reflection, a day to celebrate and a day to set free the months of hurt which can now make way for the months of healing and growth.  Today as we drove north for just the second time since D-Day, we did so with the burden lifting from our hearts and a sense of simmering excitement and anticipation.

When we get home, rehab will take on a different look and focus.  Living so close to the beach will provide great opportunities to improve his walking, going to the shop will double as speech language therapy and going to the gym, Jim will be as we know it now.  We are fortunate enough to live within a short walking distance of the Mangonui Health and Fitness Centre, which is a great gym and somewhere we both used to go before D-Day.  We have been talking for months about getting back up there and doing a real workout programme and tomorrow we’ll be straight up there.  Just settling back into a normal gym routine amongst friends will be something to cherish and I am confident it will take Darryl to the next level again which is where we need to be heading.

There is a long way to go – yes, but being home will provide the right environment to move forward with real purpose.  Darryl has moved one mountain but behind it lay many other hills.  But the way is now clear, the future he so nearly lost now lies ahead of him again.  And with every milestone achieved and each challenge surpassed has come a sense of belief that fosters the hope and possibility that is the fabric of a truly fulfilling life.

Darryl will never know the horror he lived through in those early days.  His life will always have a blind spot where ours has blinding pain.  It is an ironic relief that hand in hand with his brain injury comes complete amnesia of that period that of his life that was resting on a knife edge.  Perhaps one day he will read these entries and know in some way just how frightening the journey was at it’s outset, but I am grateful beyond words that any awakening to this reality will be from the outside, in.

It has been a long five months, for my family, for Darryl’s family on his mother’s side and for all who have been close to Darryl in this part of the journey.  Everyone has hurt, everyone has cried, everyone has lived through a nightmare of unique and unparalleled proportions.  For my family personally this has been a long standing challenge.  Over two years ago we were faced with what has amounted to a prelude to this life-changing event and we have lived with fear in our hearts ever since.  On D-Day myself, Catherine and Brenna packed up our lives in a matter of minutes and relocated to Aucklnad where we have all been throughout this journey.  While I have kept my focus on Darryl, Catherine, to her credit, was determined to keep us all together as a family and just got on with making that happen.  The power of family is something you often take for granted until it comes to the fore in times of need.  

On behalf of everyone close to Darryl I also want to thank those of you who have  supported not only Darryl, but us.  This has affected all of you too, I am sure and we are grateful to you for being strong enough to share in this journey with him and us.  The  strength, hopes, prayers and good wishes of so many have I’m sure contributed to this day.

So what have I learnt through this ordeal?  I’m not sure there is any one lesson I can take from this given the multitude of challenges that confronted us, not to mention the emotional turmoil that rained monsoon-like throughout and no doubt still will.  For me, in many ways being focused on Darryl’s survival was a key to my own.  There were many days that if I had stopped to think about what was going on and what I was trying to deal with, all while fending off the doubt that pervaded any quiet moments, I could have quite conceivably unravelled.  Therein lies one of the most important lessons I think.  That is, when all around you seems to be falling apart that somehow you  must summon the power of the human spirit to overcome the adversity and push back against the doubt.

How is this achieved?  I’m not really sure other than to say that Darryl did it even while in a coma.  He did it when there seemed on a flicker of hope and when doubt and pain filled the air all around him.  The human spirit exists in us all and perhaps it is when life begins to slide through our fingers that it comes to the fore.  Or perhaps it is fear that drives it.  I do know that I relied on Darryl to ’survive’ as much as he relied on me.  I focused on nothing other than being everything he needed and my strength came from knowing that he needed all that could be given, something heightened by the thought of losing him.  In any event, when the going gets tough, there is only one way to go and grief, self pity and sorrow have no place in ‘getting going’.  Believe in what can be and needs to be achieved and seek out and find strength from that part of you which remains untapped until you show the courage to reach out for it through the fear and pain.

Beyond that, I think the most valuable lesson I can share is that your instinct as a parent, is at it’s heart, unquestionable.  Relying on instinct in a life or death situation is the most frightening thing I can possibly think of.  Instinct is typically something you question until you have the benefit of hindsight to confirm its validity, or lack of, as the case may be.  When life hangs in the balance there is cold comfort in the fact that your instinct is telling you something that your eyes and ears are not seeing and hearing.  But time and time again through this, my instinct has proven itself right.  It seemed to be heightened to some extent and I quickly learned to trust it , albeit feeling as if I was trapped in a game of medical Russian Roulette with my son’s, life on the line.  Of course it is easier to say this now that I can look back, but the reality is in these situations, you don’t have that luxury at the time, you just have to act or react on what you feel.

There is an incredibly steep learning  curve involved in reading and understanding your instinct in these circumstances, but again it seems to me that the higher the stakes, the more keen the instincts are inclined to become.  Having the courage to act on them and trust them is where the challenge really lies.  But if the feeling in your gut persists and grows, it is something that you ignore at your peril, or even worse, possibly at someone elses.

Throughout this I have come to know my son in a way that few will do.  I have found strength that only the fear of losing your child can bring and I have needed every last drop of it.  Darryl’s life has been redefined by this experience as mine has been equally enriched.  There have been many days when I have had to cling to the slim threads of hope I convinced myself must exist.  There have been many days when the tears have been hard to hide from Darryl and my heart has ached to the point I swear it could have slowed to a stop.  This has been a test for us both in many ways and one that we both had to face front on.  The options, as in the Shawshank Redemption, were simple – get busy living, or get busy dying.  He chose life and I chose to help him get it all back.  From there it was just hard work and never stopping to let doubt catch up.

And today is V-Day.  He has made it back.  He has made the long way home…..

This will be the last message posted on this site.  This door needs to close now too, but now he is back it is fitting that Darryl is the one to close it.  So this evening I spoke with Darryl about his journey and I have written below his words and thoughts for you.

When I started to come around I didn’t feel good.  I was really confused about where I was and what had happened to me.  I was sad because I was going to have to dig myself out of it.  I didn’t know what had happened to me or how.  It seems like not very long ago I started to realise what actually happened to me.  I started to ask Dad whether it happened playing rugby.  My gut feeling told me it was, but it was pretty hard to comprehend.

When I asked my Dad if it was rugby that caused it and he told me it was, I disappointed and hurt because I nearly lost my life playing the game I love.  I was also so confused about my body and the way I felt trapped in it.  The care I was receiving and the motivation from my Dad helped pull me through that until things started to make a bit more sense.

I don’t remember anything about what happened or a lot of the things leading up to my injury.  My first real new memories start around the time of going to the first All Black test match and going to the captain’s run and meeting the All Blacks.  I was elated by that and I remember how I felt standing with the All Blacks to have a photo taken.  Sitivini Sivivatu was standing next to me, holding me up.  Standing up for the anthem at the game the next day was special and being beside the reserves on the sideline is something I’ll never forget.

Graham Henry is a ‘good bugger’, he came and saw me on my last day at the rehab and of course he came when I just got there too.  I can’t remember that but I ‘ve got the photos and video to prove it.  Sandy, the All Black’s manager has been so good to me and allowed me to get involved with the All Blacks and feel a part of the team.  He’s a good bugger as well.  Stephen McDonald and Tanerau Latimer have been amazing  as well.  I know they came to visit me in those early days (according the photos) and they have always come and talked to me and shared their words of support each time I have caught up with the team.  I feel really lucky and proud to have been a part of that All Black culture .

Rehab has been a tough process and I am glad I had so many good people helping me out there.  I know they were all working hard to try and help me get better.  I was glad that I was there, but I am really glad I have left there too.  I want my life back and I am so glad to be home.  Dad and I walked out of the rehab and that felt good.  I was overjoyed.  I have achieved what I needed to and it was time to move on.  It was good having a ‘man love moment’ with Dad when we had walked out of the driveway.  It was a damn good hug.

Yesterday, Dad, Catherine, Brenna and I went back to critical care at Auckland Hospital to see where I was when this first happened.  It was an overpowering experience.  It was an unreal feeling to see the people who looked after me when I was so sick.  When we went to the space in the ward where my old bed was it stirred my feelings and gave me a sense of how bad things must have been.  But it also gave me a sense of how good it is to be alive.  It was a powerful experience and I’m so glad I had such good people looking after me.

I am lucky to have had the family and friends that I do to support me through this.  It’s meant everything to have that support.  From my close family and grandparents to cousins, workmates and friends from school.  Jason Barrell has been an inspiration to me and I am glad he came to see me.  Brenna, my sister has been a helpful nurse and her and Catherine being around made me feel that things were kind of normal.  That was a good thing.  Lots of hugs and cuddles from Brenna was a good thing for both of us I think.  I am proud of my brother Brook and how well he is doing with his job on TV, all while keeping an eye out for me and coming to see me whenever he could.  In particular,  my Uncle Len has been ‘O’ for awesome for helping me through so many hard times and being there for Dad too.  He’s a good bugger too.  And then there’s my Dad.

Dad, I love you.  You deserve a medal for what you’ve done.  It’s meant the world to me to have you there with me every day.  You’ve helped me through all those hard times.  You picked me up when I was down and put me back on my feet again – literally.

Our relationship has grown stronger with every minute we have spent together through this tough ordeal.   I am so thankful that you were always there to fall back on when times were tough.  You worked so hard every day to help me get better and get my body working again.  We are as strong as an ox together.

I am so proud you are my Dad and I am so lucky I had you to help me get home and get my life back.

I love you very much Dad.

Darryl James Sabin

7th of October 2009

30th September – 4th October

Published on 4 October 2009 in Progress. 9 Comments

Four days have now passed since the large piece of Darryl’s skull that was removed to save his life, was replaced with a state of the art acrylic prosthetic flap, moulded perfectly to fit the deficit.  And now as the swelling starts to subside the Darryl we used to recognise, re-emerges.

For those that have read the last posting, “Humpty Dumpty Day” you will know just what a relief it has been for Darryl and for all of us to have this part of the journey behind us.  When Darryl returned from surgery accompanied by a model of his skull (with the bone flap missing) made by the manufacturers of acrylic bone flap, the true scale of the injury and the degree to which Darryl must have been feeling out of sorts is glaringly obvious.  It is a hole equal to about a third of the surface area of his skull.

Darryl bounced back pretty quickly (as you can see from the Humpty Dumpty day photos) and by 10 am on the Thursday morning we had left the hospital and Darryl was at the Auckland home we have been staying at, relaxing and sleeping it off.  He was in good spirits for the rest of the day and had a good 13 hours sleep that night,  something he’s become very good at I might add.

Friday morning we returned to the rehab and Darryl completed a good gym session with a 15 minute walk on the treadmill, some sideways and backwards walking, followed by some strength work  for his right leg.   After speech language therapy that afternoon we headed back home to the Auckland address again, for the weekend.  By usual standards it was a fairly relaxing couple of days but as the swelling is subsiding so too is Darryl’s feeling of health improving, so we will make the most of the last two gym sessions on Monday and Tuesday.  And on Wednesday we close the door on this chapter of the journey as we head for home in the Far North, some four and a half months after we arrived at the rehab and well short of what they expected.

Darryl we have two more days until we can move on from the unusual and undoubtedly confusing world you slowly woke to as you rose from the fog that shrouded your life on ANZAC day this year.  There are few milestones more significant than returning home – to the home where life will deliver the normality your life knew and the familiarity from which comfort will return.

It will be an uniquely special return and one I knew would be made, for some reason.  I guess it’s because I can’t imagine a life without you in it, I couldn’t back on D-Day either, which may explain why I couldn’t accept what the medical staff were preparing us for.  So before we return home we have one last door to ‘close’, that which you were wheeled through, fighting for your life with every sinew in your body.

Your life and ours was changed forever when you entered critical care that Saturday night.   But despite the odds, your life is still yours to be changed and this is something to celebrate.  For those who shared in your survival each and every minute in that first week  there is also so much to celebrate and to return to where it all began, standing upright, walking through those doors, a smile on your face, will bring closure unparalleled.

I want you to be in that place, that place that carved such horrific memories into our consciousness.  I want you to move around it and talk with the superb team that live and work in that environment of perpetual beeps and buzzes from monitors.  An environment where the lights ensure it is always daytime and time neither stands still nor rushes by, but is trapped in a twilight zone of excrutiating anxiety.  I want you to look them in the eye and them you, as they marvel in the power of the human spirit they nurtured, as you clung to whatever could support your life as those minutes and hours ground by.

And then I want to see you wave them goodbye as you turn and walk back out of those doors, those doors which so few have the chance to pass back through.  

Then Darryl, that part of the journey will have gone full circle and as you move forward and embrace the new life you have worked so hard to secure, you will do so with an appreciation of the mountain you have moved.  It is only when you have a true sense of what you so nearly lost , that what you have got left to give can be freed within you.  When one door is properly closed then the next swings fully open.  And as Graham Henry wrote on the note he left for you that first night – “onward and upward” and without question this will be the case for you.

I love you Darryl, but more so I am proud of you for enduring each minute, each hour, each day, as you have worked your way back to you.   

Enjoy closing that door, I know I will.

Dad

Humpty Dumpty Day

Published on 30 September 2009 in Progress. 9 Comments

…..And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men skillfully put Humpty Dumpty together again!

If relief was an emotion you that could reach out and touch then I just gave it a bear hug and it feels damn good.  For over two months Darryl has been crossing each day off his calendar leading up to this day.  Tonight, sitting beside him in hospital I am filled with joy to see him exploring his new Humpty Dumpty skull with his hand.

He’s as happy as pig in mud as they say and in that, the tears of fear and anxiety I have been fighting off all day can now trickle down my cheeks with a degree of pride and comfort which is a lot nicer.  I am so relieved to have got to this point, we all are.

Darryl started the day with absolute excitement which was probably a good thing because I started it with 300 butterflies roaring around in my stomach along with what now seems like irrational fears washing over me like a uneasy sea.  We did his usual routine this morning, including a good gym session and then hoped into the car and drove to the hospital.  When I say hospital, it wasn’t Auckland, it was Ascot Hospital.

The reason I say this, is because we walked into this hospital to have a repair as part of his ever improving recovery.  A good feeling.  A great feeling actually.  He entered Auckland Hospital via the helicopter pad, deep in a coma, probably a hand full of minutes from death with survival the only item on the agenda.  A feeling of fear that is second to none.  A feeling of helplessness that corrodes you from the inside out.

In any event by 3 pm Darryl had seen the medical team including his surgeon, Andrew Law who completed his briefing by getting Darryl to sign his consent for surgery.  This was a significant moment and carried a lot more meaning than just a signature.  Shortly after, Darryl was wheeled off to theatre off in tears, happy ones and no doubt mixed with relief as well.  It’s funny how from that point on the hands on my watch seemed to get increasingly slower, particularly when we were waiting in his room and at 6.30 pm he was still in surgery.  The relief came however shortly after when Andrew Law rang to let me know the surgery went well and he was very pleased with the result, all sealed with a good old thumbs up from Darryl.

Remember of course that some 167 days ago Mr. Law was raking his fist across Darryl’s sternum trying to illicit the same thumbs up that he did today, but back then it was to determine his fate rather than to confirm his good health.   What a journey it’s been!

Darryl, in some ways today has brought more than just closure to your skull.  It closes the door on the first chapter of a life which was so nearly snatched from you, but which you have begun to rebuild piece by painstaking piece.  So much has happened in the five months or so since D-Day, most of which I am thankful beyond words you will never remember.

I hope that over the coming days and weeks your sense of ‘you’ begins to return as your brain begins to live in its normal state once more.

I hope that when you look in the mirror you recognise the ‘you’ looking back once again.

I hope that as the days and weeks pass the new life you have fought so hard for rewards you equally with fulfillment.

I hope that as each new day dawns you feel a little closer toward the goals you continue to have and set.

I hope that as the new forest grows from the ashes of the old that a sense true and unbridled possibility grows alongside it

I hope that for every stone you have moved as you have shifted this mountain that life shines on you and all that you bring it.

I hope Darryl, that your life gives back to you what I (and all of us) have been so blessed to have, in sharing it with you.

…..I’m enjoying these tears mate.   Finally.

Love you.

Dad

Monday 21st – Sunday 27th September

Published on 27 September 2009 in Progress. 5 Comments

Well a ‘cut and paste’ week really.  Darryl continues to knock the milestones off his list of to do’s to get home and bit by bit his walking, talking and his right arm improves.  For the past few weeks we have had extra gym sessions, a weekly ‘bob’ in the pool and I have ramped up the weights I strap to the ’stick of misery’ for his arm exercises.

All this seems to be paying off,  because the improvement is certainly not waning, in fact I would say it is increasing.  By the end of each day Darryl is knackered, notwithstanding the fact that he does have the odd ‘power nap’ during the day also.  It’s well earned though when you consider the mini mileage he is now doing.  On the average day we will walk to and from the gym area three times (700 metres total), either 400 – 500 metres on the treadmill or five km on the exercycle, three sets of arm exercises a day (total of 1 1/2 hours) and 45 minutes of exercises in the morning before his shower.  Not bad for a guy who is recovering from one of the most severe brain injuries resulting from rugby in recent years!!

Darryl continues to impress those in the rehab world with his continued progress.  To me, his progress and achievements to date are simply reflective of the blend of his own determination, hard work each and every day and the involvement of experts, from Andrew Law, the neurosurgeon who saved his life on Anzac Day, to the staff of the rehab who have supported Darryl in this slow and most often arduous journey.  The equation is simple – good in, good out. 

I am a believer that in many ways you get out of life what you are prepared to put in and when what you are wanting to get out is almost everything, there is a lot that needs to be put in.  In head injuries that ‘lot’ needs to come from a lot of people and in a lot of ways, slowly but surely, Darryl is starting to show rewards for the hard yards he has been doing – and make no mistake, it is he who at the end of the day has to do those hard yards regardless of who supports him to do this.

There is much I could say about the weeks, as I have with each week, but suffice to say that this week has simply built on the progress of the last couple.  This progress is what will see us leave the rehab and all of us, as a family, return back to our home in the Far North from which we all left in a heartbeat five months ago.  Darryl has been crossing the days off his calender for two months now and there aren’t too many left.

The least major hurdle is ‘Humpty Dumpty’ day, this Wednesday.  Darryl will finally have his skull closed back in as the large piece that was removed to save his life is replaced with an acrylic prosthetic held in with the good old titanium screws and plates.  This is huge to Darryl and he looks and feels at odds with who he knows himself to be.  It has been the single most stressful part of his psychological condition over the last few months as he has moved closer to what you might consider ‘normal’.  Quite simply, it would be hard for anyone to feel ‘normal’ when a piece of your skull the size of an envelope is sitting in a fridge at the hospital!  So in many ways this operation will be closure in more ways than one and we are glad to have Mr Laws at the helm. 

Personally I will be incredibly relieved to have this procedure complete.  I have spent five months trying to ensure that he didn’t bump or have bumped, this area of his head where there is basically nothing but skin protecting his already delicate brain.  There will be a sigh of relief from me once this is remedied.  I guess prior to that however, the family and I will have to revisit that  most anxious of experiences; waiting to hear how the brain surgery went.  The last time the news was more devastating than any parent should have to bear and I will have to work hard to remind myself that any deja vous is remnants of a nightmare past and not warranted nor reflective of the postive position Darryl is now.  Well that’s the plan, the reality is those large chuncks of life that have fallen heavily on me throughout this journey seem to choose their own time and way to fall, I just have to keep looking up – turkey lurkey!!   

Well Darryl, the week has finally arrived.  There  is still a long way to go, but this is a time that you can be proud to look back and reflect on how far you have come.   Life is fluid and evolving and much of it we can’t control, but that which we can will be determining of our character and the footprint we leave on this earth.   

As we have talked of so many times Darryl, it is your attitude and application to hardship that will give your life meaning and define the person that you are and will become.  With each hurdle passed, with each challenge overcome the world that you grow with unveils more opportunities.  For life has a way of giving back to those who give of themselves.  It may not, and usually does not, appear obvious at the time, but I remain convinced of the natural justice that is born of genuine effort, commitment and tenacity.

You are close to closing one chapter of this journey and on returning home we will open the next.  The pages are now yours to turn though Darryl and the pace with which you do this lies once again in your hands.  I am proud of how you have given of yourself to become yourself once again.  One day, when you are able to stand aloft the mountain you have moved, the gravity of your struggle and achievements will become clearer to you.  For now just know that all around stand in utmost admiration of you and I more than anyone know how much that is deserved. 

Not long now mate.

Dad.

Monday 14th – Sunday 20th September

Published on 21 September 2009 in Progress. 9 Comments

The week started off with some great news.  In mid July, some two months ago I took Darryl to a specialist eye appointment to test his eyes.  At the time of this injury pressure in Darryl’s swelling brain crushed his brain stem and damaged vital cranial nerves.  Crucially, the third and forth nerves were damaged which resulted in Darryl losing the ability to open his eyes and move his eye balls, a condition known as third nerve paulsy.  Something that can be permanent if the nerves in this area die as a result of the injury.    

For over a month Darryl exhibited signs of consciousness, albeit a low level and infrequently, but with his eyes unable to open and being unresponsive to light it appeared as though he was still in a coma.  We now know that this was not the case at all.  Damage to the third nerve was the culprit, something we found out with relief when we arrived at the rehab.  

In early June ,Darryl began to open his eyes himself, using the power of his eyebrows raising to lift his eyelids which were in essence paralysed.  Since this time, I have done all manner of eye excercises with Darryl, getting him to look left, righ, up, down and straight ahead.  In the beginning nothing happened.  He looked blankly back with unresponsive eyes, which given their ‘window to the soul’ nature, was quite disconcerting because there appeard to be not much going on.

In any event, when we met with the eye specialist in mid July he confirmed the supsected damage to the third and fourth cranial nerves and while there was some signs of potential improvement in his left eye, his right eye was still suffereing third nerve palsy.  His vision, tested with wall charts was also very poor.  The great news came though, when on our return on Monday his vision had improved so much he could read all but the smallest line on the range of wall charts and when his eyes  were examined, the doctor said there had been “significant improvement” in the third nerve function and he was making “excellent progress” since the last appointment.

I had to ask the doctor three times if that meant that the third nerve was repairing, because this was so significant.  He confirmed it was definitely the case and he was very confident of continuing improvement which should see Darryl’s eyes return to looking as they did before the injury, something that made Darryl overjoyed.  While we knew that corrective eye surgery and eyelid lifts were a possibility if needed, the ultimate was for the nerves to repair and return the normal function to the eyes.  This appears to be the case and importantly, given the severity of the damage in this area, it shows us that the cranial nerves ARE repairing.  This is huge!!

I have been rubbing and flicking Darryl’s eyelids and doing eye turning exercises with him for three months now.  I’m not sure if that is helping, but if the eyes are anything like the rest of his body, then they need a reminder to ’wake up’ as well.  Certainly when I told the doctor about the exercises he said “keep doing it, because somethings working here alright”.  Darryl and I left the eye clinic practically walking on clouds we were so bouyed by the news.  While I was confident there had been improvement in his eyes since July, I didn’t want to read (no pun intended) too much into it.  It has definitely been a ‘hope for the best, prepare for the worst’ scenario.  Well that hope has been well rewarded!!

That news really set things up for a good week.  Since his birthday Darryl has been using his right hand to eat with and while he has a limited range of movement, just getting food to his mouth is a major improvement on a week or so ago.  All this has come after hours of strengthening and stretching exercises in recent week.  At least three times a day we go through sets of various exercises that have increased in difficulty and range as slowly, nerve by nerve we have managed to regain purposeful movement in his right arm.  There is still a lot of activity related tone (stiffening in the muscles) but this is slowly improving and as we have found with all his other limbs, the more purposeful, self initiated activity there is, the more the tone is ’switched off ’.  The key is to get enough strength back into the shoulder and arm so that this activity can return.  It is a slow and painstaking process, but it seems to be working.

Let’s not forget that for about six weeks his right arm was constricted to his chest, bent up as far as it could be, his fist clenched so tightly it couldn’t  be pried open and his bicep so tight it was impossible bend it open  to even 30 degrees let alone anything close to straight.  For six weeks!  After botox in his muscles (which switches the nerve receptors off) and three casts on his arms progressively stretching it out, we got a point where he had an arm that was not contricted anymore but was not functioning at all.  Well now he is making real progress with it and every day I promise Darryl that I will thrash it at the gym every day until he can raise it up above his head and say – ENOUGH!

Again, I am just applying the old ‘use it or lose it’ philosophy wrapped up with the concept that the brain needs to work out that this ‘thing’ hanging off his shoulder is of use and start sending messages to the muscles to get it all happening.  From this, the nerve pathways that were torn apart through this injury can re-grow, re-connenct and re-establish.  Whichever way you look at it, Darryl is really getting some strength back in that arm and is starting to do things with it he simply couldn’t get close to doing even a couple of weeks ago.

Darryl had another good swimming session in the pool on Wednesday.  Well more of a bob than a swim, but he gets a workout with the physio using the water to not only help support him but also make his muscles work against its resistance.  He loves it though.  And unlike on land when he lets rip with backside ballard, he has the added delight of measuring the power unleashed by the volume of bubbles.  Not surprisingly a lot of his birthday cards made quips about farting.  It seems that this was one part of his body function that wasn’t affected by the injury.  Thank goodness for that, I wouldn’t fancy waking those nerves up!

Darryl’s walking continues to improve, almost by the step.  He walked completely on his own on a couple of occasions this week  for about 25 metres at a time.  He lost his balance once or twice, at which time the physio and I caught him, but it was a very good jump in progress to be going totally solo, something we will do more an more inthe remaining couple of weeks we have at the rehab.  He now has far better control over his right knee and hip that used to collapse  when he walked and on Friday he walked 400 metres on the treadmill, for the first time without needing the physio to assist with picking up his right leg and placing it forward.  Huge improvement!

We also did a hill test, walking up a hill that would be in the order of 25 degrees gradiant and then back down again.  He went well with this and on a timed ‘run’ over 10 metres he went from taking 64 seconds to walk it to 34 seconds.  Usain Bolt need not worry too much at this stage I guess, but all in good time…  

And the week was capped off when we visited Brook, Darryls brother at his new apartment.  An apartment that was on the third floor, some 51 stairs from the ground floor.  Darryl bolted up the stairs without missing a beat.  Maybe it was because a large lunch was waiting for him at the top.  In any event, after spending a couple of hours at Brook’s new place we repeated the exercise in reverse, again something Darryl handled really well. 

We had one of those ‘reflective’ moments over the weekend.  Darryl was laying on the couch and Brenna (his five year old sister) all dressed up in her doctors clothes, compete with stethescope and syringes began to administer ‘medicine’ and check his vitals.  Darryl lay there and played the good patient and I watched on remembering how in those early days when Darryl was fighting for his life in hopital, Brenna would go to the Starship Hospital playroom where she would administer medicine, x-ray and treat the little ‘Darryl’ doll she had made.  It was a time none of us will forget and now something Brenna could play out with her real brother almost oblivious to the path that had brought her to this point.

But for me, as has happened so often, a moment from the past came rushing back to grab me again as if to remind me that time has not healed all just yet.  I guess it is reflective of a new phase of this journey, one in which Darryl is making his way back to good health which brings his dire condition and brush with death just a few months ago into clearer focus.  Another one came this weekend when I was going through some documents in my briefcase and I found an old file note related to one of Darryl’s scans.  At the top right hand corner of the page was a close up photo of Darryl’s face.  The photo while in black and white showed clearly the gravity of his condition, his hands tightly clenched up under his chin, his head misshapen, his eyes closed and looking lifeless.  It was hard to look at and in some ways I refuse to let the images resonate with the consciousness of the heartache those times held. 

So too is it that I can not bring myself to read over the very words I have written in this forum as they hold too much pain, too much fear and a sense of loss that no parent should ever have to confront.  In time I know this will change, but for now I know that I don’t have the courage to face the past when it is so closely linked to the present.  I just want to focus on each piece of my son that he able to get back.

Darryl, with each day that passes your life comes closer to you.  The life that you lived to the full but came so close to losing because of it.  Emerging from this nightmare comes a life more worth living than you could have ever known and we are all blessed that we can share in it with you.

Loss is one of the most defining factors in all of life.  It is from loss that new life grows and it is attitude,  tenacity and character that determines  how much.  Sometimes I used to catch myself mourning the Darryl we lost.  But now, with each passing day, I cherish the Darryl we have gained, as like the pheonix from the ashes you have risen and life has taken on a new, more fulfilling significance. 

I enjoy looking forward again now Darryl.  I know that you do too – now.  If the value in life can be measured by the sense of loss that exists when it is all but taken away, then you are invaluable.  So too you must value the life you have another chance to live and grow to enjoy every day for the gift it is.  

We hoped for this time Darryl.  We hoped that you could make it back to us. We hoped that you could move that mountain.  And stone by stone you have…. You just “got busy living”.               

It is great looking forward again now.

Love you mate.

Dad.

Monday 7th – Sunday 13th September

Published on 14 September 2009 in Progress. 9 Comments

For the third time in as many months Darryl reached new levels of achievement due at least in part to the All Blacks, their coaches and manager.  In many ways, Graham Henry has been on Darryl’s wing since he left that note for him in critical care on day one.  He visited Darryl within a week of arriving at the rehab in early June, offering Darryl the opportunity to attend the first Tri Nation’s game some six weeks after that.

At that point, Darryl was unable to open his eyes and could move nothing – nothing, but his left thumb and some quite spastic movements with his left arm.  His right arm was constricted up to his chest so tightly we had to wedge a towel between his forearm and bicep to try and force them apart just a few inches.  His legs were stiff and completely immobile and his face was unable to make any expressions at all, his head unable to be supported by his neck, needing to be propped up with pillows.  He was also unable to speak and can remember nothing of the visit and promise by Graham aside from the photos we took and the constant reminders I gave him of the occasion.

Despite what many would have thought was unachievable, four weeks later Darryl was ‘good to go’ and we attended the first match, albeit in a wheelchair.  The next invite was to the team training camp in West Auckland about a month later, and we aimed for him to be walking by then – he was.  Just two days before we met the All Blacks at their training camp he took his first two steps with support,  we needed the wheelchair but he was able to stand and watch the AB’s and took a couple of tentative steps.

Following  this came the invite to attend the captain’s run and game against South Africa at Hamilton this weekend, just gone.  The challenge and goal we set this time was to be  walking – on his own.  Sure enough, the continued hard work and incentive of the ‘All Black’ variety paid off and we arrived at the captain’s run on Friday, Darryl’s birthday, and walked from the carpark, down the players tunnel and out onto the pitch.  The only support Darryl has now is me walking behind him with my fingers holding some loops on a belt strapped around his waist, which I use to catch him if he starts to topple over.  Other than that he is going solo.

Darryl was met by Darren Shand, the manager and later by Graham, Wayne Smith and Steve Hansen, along with a range of the players who have been so supportive toward Darryl.  Darryl grew a few more inches throughout this experience as well, as the sincerity of their admiration at his marked progress and continued determination was reflected in their comments and obvious delight at what they were seeing.

The following night we were privileged to join the AB reserves and support crew in the dugout on the sideline of the test.  It was something special to walk down that tunnel out onto the pitch and then following the game, walk back up the tunnel past the changing rooms amongst the clutter of media and cameras, to the cheers of the fans hanging over the tunnel walls calling out “good on ya mate, well done, keep it up”.    At first I wondered why they were saying this to the players, until I realised there were no players around us – they were calling to Darryl, someone I am sure they wouldn’t have known about (particularly when most of them were obviously South Africans)  but seeing his obvious struggle to walk and the focus he was showing just to get one foot in front of the other, they offered their calls of support.  I whispered in Darryl’s ear, “mate they are yelling to you, soak it up buddy, you deserve it as much as the players who are running off this field”.

There were so many many memorable moments flowing from that couple of days with the AB’s .  There is so much tragic irony about this and I know at times Darryl’s heart aches at being so close to something that he will now never be able to achieve, but he handles this with such courage and maturity.  He soaks up the experiences with equal shares of awe and inspiration.  I know that being so close to his heroes and the game he loved enough to risk his life for is something magical and has provided an opportunity to springboard him forward with his rehab.  I have given up trying to reconcile the obvious ironies.  The simple fact is that the game may have lost Darryl as a player, but it will never lose him as a supporter.

It was of course a sad ending to the game with the narrow loss to South Africa and when I also looked to the ground, obviously dejected, he turned to me and said, “Oh well Dad, I guess that’s why they are the world champions at the moment”, which I thought was a pretty damn good summation of the situation.  Despite the hard work of the AB’s and coaching team, the Springboks are ‘on top of their game’ at the moment and the results show that.  The AB’s are trying to find theirs, and Darryl and I both agree that when they do, the results will come through as well.  Just like Darryl, patience, hard work and plenty of heart will bring the results.

As a measure of just how sincere the All Blacks have been, all three coaches made a point of coming up to Darryl prior to the game and telling him how glad they were that he was there and what an insipartion he is.  But even more so, after the game Darryl and I made our way out into the carpark and were just about to leave when Darren Shand, the manager came out (from a dressing room that was far more in need of attention than us) simply to thank Darryl for coming along and remind him of how much he has become an inspiration to the team.  You just can’t ask for more than that can you?  There are a great ‘team’ in my eyes and I know Darryl would walk over hot coals for any one of them.

The other major happening of the week was Darryl’s 19th birthday on the 11th of September.  A birthday we were told he wouldn’t have.   It was a terrific day, not just because we spent much of it at the captain’s run,  but we also went out for dinner to a good old ’steak’ joint and Darryl ordered his own meal, steak and mushrooms and for the first time he had a glass of beer.  The deal was, I promised Darryl I would shout him a beer as soon as he could lift it to his mouth with his right hand.  The night before, Darryl had eaten a small cake from his right hand (the first thing he has managed to eat from this hand on his own) so I figured it was worth a crack.  Sure enough, we toasted to him, his birthday and his life and I placed a small glass of beer in his right hand and centimetre by centimetre he raised it to his mouth and managed to get a small sip!!!  I let him drink the rest with his left.  I’m not as cruel as I may appear at times!

Darryl enjoyed a good meal and some polite conversation with the waitress, before we returned to the motel room and he was treated to a bubble bath in a huge spa bath in our room.  Bliss!!  I think this was what they invented the saying ‘happy as a pig in mud’ for.  In all, it was a great day and if his snoring was anything to go by it was a fulfilling one also.

All the hard work we have been doing on his right arm is definitely starting to pay off though, as by the end of today, just two days after he was able to lift his first piece of food to his face, Darryl ate his entire meal, complete with dessert, with his right hand.  I loaded up his fork and he raised each one up to his mouth, he also raised his toothbrush to his mouth and tried his best to brush, he ate chips with it, drank a drink from a straw it  and managed to wrap it around Brenna  and give her a real hug when she went off to bed tonight.  It may sound like something and nothing, but this is huge in the scheme of things.  This signifies a return to purposeful, functional movement to his right arm, which will serve to enhance the ‘normal’ nerve pathways that we have been fighting to regain.

There have many other gains this week, his walking is improving almost with every step and his right leg is gaining strength and thus control over his gait is quickly returning. (Well, quickly in terms of the rehab world).  He did a great 15 minute burst on the exercycle with some sprint sesssions exceeding 90 rpm with resistance.  He did a 20 minute session on the treadmill and strode up the stairs repeatedly on a few occasions.   A good week of gains?  Nothing he hasn’t earned and damn right it is.

Darryl, you have become an inspiration to strangers, to friends, to family and even to your heroes.  You have clawed back inch by inch the life that was ripped away from you a few long months ago and soon we will return home to keep building on the foundations of the new life you have forged out of the ashes of devastation.

It is right that you are admired by so many.  You have earned  each and every accolade.  But the truth is, no-one will admire you more than I.  Each day I watch the pain you endure, the anxiety you experience and character sapping  effort you give, as you shift that mountain fate placed in your way.  Those strangers at the rugby who shouted encouragement for you as you struggled back up the tunnel were right on the money Darryl.  In my view, you are deserving of a stadium full of cheers, just as much as the heroes in black you come to support.

We are all richer for you in our lives Darryl, but I am a multi-millionaire.

Not long now mate, home is just around the corner.

Love always,

Your biggest fan.

Monday 31st August – Sunday 6th September

Published on 6 September 2009 in Progress. 15 Comments

Three weekends ago, Catherine and I were able to leave our temporary Auckland home and return to our home in the Far north to celebrate our daughter Brenna’s 5th birthday.  It was the first time Darryl and I had been home since D-Day on the 25th of April.  It was a terrific weekend on a whole lot of levels and was the last time Darryl really used his wheelchair.  At that time he was able to stand and balance and I walked him by standing in front of him with a hand on his hip and shoulder, guiding him forward as I walked backwards like some sort of rehab rhumba .  It was awkward but it was upright – that was the main thing.

Within a week of that major milestone we had switched from the rehab rhumba to the the stick of misery shuffle.  Darryl used the lancewood staff he carved me in a style akin to less than fleet-footed kaumatua as a balancing tool.  This seemed to work well to give him a tripod-type grip on the earth.  The following weekend, he went solo and walked a total of three bursts of 20 metres with no stick, no rhumba partner and just me shadowing him from behind to catch him if he fell.

And this weekend, some three weeks after he ‘rose from the chair’  he walked with strength and purpose through the house , out of the garage and down the driveway to the road and back.  This is about an 80 metre return trip and he did it three times over the course of the weekend.  More importantly though, having spent a lot of the week at the gym strengthening and trying to better coordinate his right knee and hip (which had been collapsing badly as he walked, through weakness and lack of muscle control) Darryl was walking without the right leg giving way.  This is significant as it is key to getting back to a normal gait.  All this in three weeks.  Not bloody bad I reckon!!

It has all come about as a result of a lot of strength and foundation work over the past few months but over the last week we have really ramped up his walking in terms of distance.  He has done six to eight minute bursts on the treadmill at a time, the best being a total of 15 minutes on Thursday, amassing a total distance of 400 metres.   I have also managed to have a couple of extra ’strength’ sessions added to Darryl’s week at the gym, Jim, but not as you know it,  which gives Darryl a bit of focus for the afternoons to keep building the momentum that has been created.

On top of this great progress, Darryl has been making good improvement with his right arm, which I’m thrashing to be honest.  We do a range of bilateral exercise (using both arms at the same time) and the stick of misery comes in very handy for bench and shoulder press and a range of other helpful  exercises.  He can now do a one arm standing press up with his right arm against the wall while he dips in and then pushes back.  He has been using a one kilo weight to do a number of exercises and he can now hold his right arm in the air while he is laying on his back and move it up and down a little and around in small circles.  When he is down on hands and knees he can also raise his left arm and right leg off the ground which shows building strength in that right arm.  The key is getting that right shoulder working and I doubt either of us is going to stop until that is achieved.

The highlight of the week ahead is not just Darryl’s 19th birthday, but the fact that he will be yet again joining the All Blacks as their guest at the Captain’s run in Hamilton prior to the game against the Springboks.  It’s hard to explain what a powerful motivating tool the All Blacks have provided by inviting Darryl to join them at their local  fixtures.  He strives to achieve milestones in anticipation of each new opportunity to see the guys and when players and management share sincere admiration at Darryl’s strength, courage and determination, Darryl fills with pride, as I do.  They are experiences we both treasure, despite the obvious and tragic irony of the circumstances that have led to these unique opportunites.

In any event, this time Darryl will walk up to the players at the Captain’s run and walk around the ground to the bench on Saturday at match time.  It all goes to show that a little bit of luck and a huge amount of hard work will bring rewards of equivalent standing, no pun intended.

Darryl, we are heading onto the home straight mate.  In a little over four weeks we will head home, to a home that all of us will appreciate on many more levels for this experience.  In some ways it is hard to fathom just how far you have come over the past four months.  I still can’t bring myself to read back over this diary as the memories are too raw and I am almost scared to reflect on the pain and anxiety of days gone as if doing so would somehow claw back the joy of success and achievement of now.

In a few days you will turn 19, a birthday we were told you wouldn’t see.  While it is significant, in many ways each and every day since D-Day has been a birthday of sorts.  You have had to start again and over these months I have ticked off so many milestones that I remember from many years ago.  It is almost like you have grown up all over over again.  The difference being Darryl, that for every physical hurdle you have overcome, you have grown in strength, character and fabric.

A few days ago you said to me “I’ll be a better man for this won’t I Dad?” .  Darryl, you will be a man amongst men, an inspiration amongst the inspired, the best example amongst examples of the best.  Life delivered a true test of you, a test that you have not bowed to, but risen above, at every juncture.  It is not so much that you will be a better man Darryl, more so that the man you already are, will be better.

You have my deepest admiration and respect Darryl.  Be proud and always stand tall.

Love always.

Dad

Monday 24th – Sunday 30th August

Published on 31 August 2009 in Progress. 11 Comments

Four months since my lad found himself in a battle for his life – D Day.

The memories of that day remain as fresh in my mind now as the day they were carved into my consciousness back then.  There is no escaping the scars which remain for all of us, but there is a natural healer that day by day, piece by piece makes the scars easier to bear and fades them through the forgiveness of time.       Today provided a large lump of that healing.

Having spent the week walking with the aid of the ’stick of misery’ (length of Lancewood Darryl carved for me as a Christmas gift 2 years ago) I decided it was time for Darryl to take the next step – literally.  This morning after breakfast I said to Darryl we needed to go back to his bedroom so he could lay on the bed to do some arm exercises, but when he reached for the ’stick of misery’, I suggested (which is Dad speak for told) to him we ’fly solo’ and leave the stick behind.

He didn’t flinch and when he stood I got in behind him and looped my fingers through the belt on his waist (Since he’s been walking I have had a belt with straps for handles around his waist to ensure he doesn’t fall if he loses his balance).  I stood behind him as one slow step after another he made his way about 20 metres through the house to the bedroom.  What a triumph!  This was the first time he had really walked, more than a few steps, on his own.  A big ‘man hug’ of joy, relief and exhilaration sealed the achievement.

After his exercises he then walked, by himself, about the same distance out of the house to the car so we could go down the road and get the paper.  And on our return he walked again about another 20 metres inside to the couch where he promptly flopped down for a bit of Sunday TV.  What a fantastic milestone and as I mentioned before a healer that makes the scars of the past fade a little more. 

So the wheel chair I am proud to say has sat unused for two weeks, something I take great pride in and while Darryl I am sure would be glad of the relief of being wheeled about every now and then, I know he is also proud and relieved of the achievements.  Slowly but surely all the equipment and implements he has needed have been shed and cast aside.  It’s very satisfying to slowly edge back to independence.

The other major work going on has been with his right arm.  While his surgeon, Mr. Law had made so many positive comments about Darryl’s progress I knew it was important to prove to Darryl that hard work, a young brain and a never-say-die attitude are a combination to defy all odds.  We were doing a lot of work with his arm, which little by little has been gaining in active movement and reducing in tone (muscle tightness and stiffness), but this week we have at least doubled that.  And I’m sure for it’s for this reason we have seen such great improvement in his right arm this week.

He can now hold his arm up in the air above his face for over a minute and a half, while lying on his back.  This requires his shoulder to be ’switching on’, something a week ago he couldn’t do at all.  He can pick objects up and move them around on his stomach and in most ranges of movement there is increased strength and range of motion.  I have also been using the ’stick of misery’ a lot more so that he can do bilateral exercises (using both arms at the same time), doing such things as bench press, shoulder press, bicep curls, tricep pull down and so on.  All of these are improving.

I am no brain surgeon (that’s for sure) but I do have a strong sense of belief that ‘if you don’t use it you lose it’ and the more you can use it the more the brain gets the messages that it is needed.  Well my mission is to ensure that Darryl’s brain is left in no doubt that his right arm is a bloody good piece of equipment!  The key is to get the shoulder working and build up its strength and even within a week of hard work, well harder than was already being done, he is getting stronger.

The whole week I have reinforced to Darryl the progress he’s made, but more so I have not given him time to stop and dwell on what he hasn’t yet achieved.  He has been working extremely hard.  We are now on a time line to get home.  Six weeks.  And with a timeline comes deadlines for goals and impetus to achieve them.  I think this is really important because I want to ensure that every gain and benefit can be obtained prior to leaving the rehab to go back home.  I am not sure where the timeline has come from other than my own gut feeling that at that point he will be in a position to be sufficiently independent to benefit more from a home environment and the gym across the road from us, than from the rehab environment, which in many ways he is quickly outgrowing.   

The other good news this week has been that Darryl’s surgery date for his cranioplasty (repairing the large piece of skull that was removed on D-Day) has been set; the 23rd of September.  It is a great relief to have this date set as Darryl has been more and more troubled by the fact that half of the right side of his skull is still sitting in a fridge at Auckland Hospital.  Having said that, it is an acrylic prosthetic that will be screwed in place rather than his own bone, primarily because it is less likely to cause healing problems or infection.  But having a date to work to – Humpty Dumpty day we call it, is another target to aim at.

So a good week has passed and another awaits.  That light at the end of this particular tunnel is ever brighter and the wounds of D-Day heal with each passing day.

Darryl, you have come so far in the past four months.  Four months that has redefined your life and the lives of so many of us close to you.   I am still not sure what it is that life has planned for you, why it is that this test of all tests has been yours to rise to.  I just know that there is a life for you to live which will ultimately be richer and more fulfilling for this journey.

Darryl as I type this my eyes fill with tears. Tears that bear testimony to the struggles, trials and pain you have endured to be where you are now.  And while others will admire you and marvel at your character and the determination you have shown, I will always have the gift of being by your side through this time, as you have made the long way home.

My soul is richer for you Darryl.

Love you.

Dad.

Monday 17th – Sunday 23rd August

Published on 24 August 2009 in Progress. 18 Comments

It’s been a tough week.  Excellent in so many ways but heartbreaking in others.  I guess this is something I and we as a family have got used to over the past few months, but  it doesn’t make it any easier to be honest.  In fact the closer we get to ‘normality’ (if in fact there is such a thing anymore) the harder much of this seems to be to understand and deal with.

Darryl has been making great progress with his mobility and now has little use for the wheelchair as we are walking everywhere.  Of course when I say walking ,I mean I am standing in front of him helping to guide him in what could be described as a rehab waltz akin to a poor performance on dancing with the stars.  He has also been doing a bit of work with a walking stick to try and give him a bit better balance, although over the weekend we had some good success with using the lancewood staff he made me (also known by Darryl as the stick of misery).

Darryl still has trouble with his right leg and foot and a lot of effort is needed to try and coordinate the use of this leg as opposed to the left, in the main because it a little stiffer and has less range of active movement .  This is also the case with his right arm which is still largely limited in function and something I am working really hard to change.  We exercise this arm several times a day and the gains are coming, but slowly.  He can now move it around quite well in most ranges but his shoulder is very very week, which effectively limits all the other movement of the arm.  But when you look at where we are now compared to two weeks ago, let alone two months ago, it is clear he is right on track.     

This was all confirmed at the beginning of the week when we had an appointment with the surgeon who saved Darryl’s life, Mr. Andrew Law.  The appointment was to set in place a plan for his cranioplasty  (repairing the large piece of skull that has been removed from the right side of his head).  I was really nervous about this meeting, not so much because of what it was for, but because it is very humbling to meet a person who has saved your child’s life.

What I wasn’t prepared for was the almost instantaneous recoil into the horror of the days in which Darryl hung tenuously to life back in critical care.  Mr. Law explained how near death Darryl was and how he fought for him, from the beginning.  He said Darryl was one of those special cases where he wanted to give him every chance despite the odds that he faced.  He discussed the third day and how he basically worked Darryl up enough until he finally got a reaction out of him – the now famous ’thumbs up’.  It was on the morning of this third day that we were being prepared to face the most abhorrent of all decisions, one of whether to accept the death of  your child or not.  That response from Darryl, that Mr. Law worked so hard to get, that he fought for, was the turning point and a day I will never forget .  Hearing him talk about it brought that day back to me like it had never left.  I felt the room starting to turn and my stomach tighten the same as it had months ago.  I felt the unexplainable fear of life slipping though my hands like sand and as fast as you try to gather it back up it seems to fall back through your fingers.  It was all I could do to not  fall off my chair.  I looked across at Darryl as if to remind myself that it was all a dream, well nightmare to be more accurate, that I had woken from.  And in many ways that is the case.  In any event Darryl was sitting in a chair beside me, the same Darryl I knew on the 24th of April, albeit a little less functional (at the moment).

Mr. Law spent almost an hour talking with Darryl and I and explained a number of things about his injury and recovery, which in the main was very positive.  So it should be, he is a walking talking miracle and testimony to the power of the human spirit  as far as I am concerned.  Unfortunately however Darryl picked up on one comment from Mr. Law about the possibility of a less than 100 percent recovery of his right arm due to the nature of the injury.  From the seeds of this conversation grew a number of days of pure heartache for Darryl.

On the  way back from the appointment to the rehab Darryl started to make comments that he wouldn’t make a 100 percent recovery, which I tried to explain to him was not the case it all, but he must accept that after any injury things are changed, normal is no longer what it used to be, but that wouldn’t mean that he wouldn’t get back to 100 percent, in his ‘new’ self.

Unfortunately my pep talk only headed off the melt down for an hour or so and later back at the rehab he was sobbing his heart out.  This was the first of three or four episodes of total dispair and grieving from Darryl over the next few days.  On one occasion it was on the way back from the gym and in frustration at his effort to coordinate his walking he looked me in the eye and started crying, “saying I’m so sorry Dad, all this for a game of rugby” at  which time he dissolved in to heart wrenching tears.  Well we both did actually.

It was an emotionally draining few days and I was doing all I could to hold things together myself, let alone ensuring Darryl’s mood and spirit were kept in check as best as possible.  Part of me was really angry that in December 2007 when Darryl sat in a clinical appointment with neurologist who amongst so many other things said “there’s nothing on this scan to say that if you played again, that this would happen again”.  And that is all that Darryl ‘heard’ – the good stuff as he saw it, justification for playing again.  While on this occasion amongst so much other good stuff, all he could hear was something that was concerning, potentially negative.  The irony was like a punch in the stomach, but something I had to swallow and ignore, for Darryl’s sake.

So in a week when Darryl has physically made some fantastic progress, psychologically he has been to rehab hell and back.  And for each tear that fell from his cheeks my sense of sadness and stomach turning sorrow for his journey through the realisation of his life-changing injury, has grown.  For this reason I have to keep telling myself that as improved as Darryl is on what he was and what was expected, nothing less than 100 percent will do. 

Darryl, no matter what, you must believe that your destiny is in your own hands.  Never let anyone put limits on what you might do, or be able to achieve.  I believe in you and you must also.  You are here because of who you are and because even in the depths of a life-threatening coma, you weren’t prepared to let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t be here.  You proved them wrong then and you will do it again.  

Your goal will determine your outcome Darryl, not anyone else’s perception of its achievability.  And my promise to you is that I will not give up on believing in your ability to achieve the goals you set.

I love you Darryl and I am proud to be your father.

Dad.

Monday 10th – Sunday 16th August

Published on 17 August 2009 in Progress. 17 Comments

After a couple of weeks of tough slog Darryl was rewarded with some great moments over the last week, all of which I think have contributed to great achievements.  On Wednesday Darryl was once again a guest of the All Blacks at their training camp at Waitakere Stadium.  Having attended their Captain’s run and the first Tri Nation’s game in Auckland three weeks ago we were again able to set some goals around the prospect of attending this training on the return of the team from South Africa.

We decided that being able to walk by this time was something to aspire to achieving and with a day to spare Darryl managed it.  On the Tuesday morning Darryl took his first two steps on his own without any support.  This was followed on the Wednesday morning (immediately before the AB training) by about 10 steps with minimal assistance.  Needless to say when we were greeted by the All Black coaches, management and players, it was with Darryl standing proudly on his own two feet, something they were all impressed with and I was very proud of.

I took lots of photos and video of Darryl standing within metres of his All Black heroes as they went through their paces.  He was engrossed throughout and while there is a sad and somewhat tragic irony to this, I have come to accept that while this game nearly cost him his life, it still fills him with life, albeit now it is from the ’sidelines’.  The pride and feeling of achievement he felt was tangible when Stephen Donald, Tanerau Latimer (two who first visited him in rehab nine weeks ago)  and many others came up to Darryl at the end of the training, sincerely astonished at his continued improvement and obvious determination.  They are terrific young men for whom I have immense respect.  I’m sure they have no end of ‘public duties’ of this nature but these guys care and are with Darryl in this 100 percent, something I would have to say is shared by Graham, Wayne, Steve and Darren Shand the manager.  They have made Darryl feel like part of the team, a unique and unparalleled experience.

It was a fantastic couple of hours, right in there amongst it and probably one of the highlights was Brad Thorne coming up to Darryl at the end of the training telling him what an inspiration Darryl was to him personally and also to the team.  He spoke of how Graham talked about Darryl in his team talks and the inspiration that players took from this.  Tears rolled down Darryl’s cheeks as Brad shook his hand and marvelled at Darryl’s continued progress.  Money can’t buy, nor doctors prescribe what that does for my son.  It has been a privilege to be a part of the culture of this great group of men, a culture that is not always so obvious to the viewing public of New Zealand.

To give you some perspective of the lift his gives Darryl the following day with the aid of the physio Darryl walked over 50 metres, followed by more than 80 metres on Friday.  It just catapulted him ahead.  And this is the key to the rehab process in my view.  You have to find what can turn each day, in fact each activity in each day, into something that counts towards the end goal .

Just like the nerve pathways and muscles need some form of stimulation or trigger to get them working again, I believe that flames of determination need to be fanned as well.  That is the critical balance; physiological and psychological.  Both are crucial to the success of each other, moreover the right psychological state harnesses the determination that is the fuel for so much of the physical advances.  It is a matter of making each activity, each day and each experience count.  Something I talk to Darryl about a lot.  I guess that’s where Len’s (my bother) pearls of wisdom really to the fore; life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you react to it.

The other first, and a big first it was too, was returning to the Far North to our family home to celebrate the 5th birthday of Darryl’s younger sister, Brenna.  Darryl, Brook and I headed north on Friday afternoon arriving at about 7 pm.  It was a horrible day to travel with pouring rain and howling winds, but nothing was going to take the shine off the significance of this trip.  It was surreal  to be home again, for both us.  I have only been there for a matter of hours since D-Day back on the 25th of April and in some ways it was like I hadn’t left, but in other ways it was like I was walking into a foreign house.  By Saturday this feeling was subsiding and the familiarity and normality of Darryl being back home was a real delight.

We had a great day on Saturday with lots of visitors for Brenna’s party followed by an evening sitting on the deck with Darryl, family and friends, sharing a lot of laughs, memories and the simple joy of having Darryl around having cheated death.

His walking has improved so much he didn’t use  the wheel chair at all while at home and so many other ’normal’ things were able to happen, from brushing his teeth standing up to having a shower and watching rugby while sitting on the couch.  Each day it seems, he gains back more and more of the ability to do the simple things in life he and indeed we have all taken for granted.  It was a little sad to have to drive back, but there is a clearer perspective of just how quickly we are approaching a time that he will be ready and able to return home.  That puts wind beneath the wings and that is something to savour.

There was a multitude of emotions over this week, it seemed there was so much happening and great piles of ’stones’ being carried away, so to speak.  Probably the most poignant for me however was on the way up home when I glanced over at Darryl and  my mind went rewinding back to a time about two years ago and the last time Darryl and I drove back from Auckland together.  It was on that occasion two years ago that Darryl and I argued about what the doctor had said about his risk of further injury and harm.  The words “there’s nothing to suggest this would happen again” echo through my mind and resonate to my very core on a daily basis and just at that moment as I was caught in reflection, the reality of this twisted hand of seemingly pre-scripted fate is as raw as ever and a feeling of real sadness dawned.

These moments happen far less now than in the early days and I guess in some ways they help remind me of the focus that is still required to get all the way back ‘home’ regardless of how long that trip can seem at times.  I try to pre-empt them, to anticipate the blind shot that these feelings can be, but it was of course almost impossible when we returned to our family home a place that is built upon the memories of Darryl’s life prior to this injury.

So it was that the thoughts and memories that the weekend stirred up became the topic of some conversation between Darryl and I as we neared the rehab on Sunday night.  It was a chance to re-focus the body and mind to the days and weeks ahead.

Darryl, from tragedy of the past grows the opportunities of the future.  It is one of the most basic rules of nature; there can be no gain without first being a loss.  The tide would not rise if at first it did not recede.  The sun would not rise if at first it had no set.  A new forest can not grow until the one that stood before it has fallen.

It is quite simple, there can be no gain if at first there is not loss and therefore gaining is about how you deal with loss.  So it is that loss is something to be dealt with as the foundations of growth,  improvement and change.  Focus on these, not the loss itself.  That to me  is the determining factor of success;  the ability to focus your thoughts and energy on the possibility and promise of growth which is born of the loss itself .  They are two sides of the same coin, but remember, only one side can face upward at a time.

So often Darryl you ask me if you will be normal again….No, you can never be normal again.  Fate has lead you down a path from which you could not return as normal, because it is a path only extraordinary people can return from.  Keep focused on the gains to be made and what needs to be done to achieve them and one day Darryl you will look back on this time as a defining chapter in a life I have no doubt will be extraordinary.

I am proud of each step you take and I know how hard you work for each and every one of them.

Love always

Dad