Monthly Archive for August, 2009

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

Monday 3rd – Sunday 9th August

Published on 10 August 2009 in Progress. 9 Comments

There are few words to adequately express the horror that we all went through for the first few weeks of this most deeply rooted test of the human spirit.  It is still so raw I can’t bring myself to read the postings I made in those early days and weeks, so scared am I that the horror we faced will somehow claw its way back to the present.  But now, some three and a half months down the track as each day passes the footprint of improvement and tentative return to ‘normality’ seems to hide, at least in part, the path we walked in those early days.

In so many ways, so much of this journey has been a battle of will, of spirit and of all those intrinsic qualities for which no medication exists to create or enhance the existance of.  This is what I decided was the ‘test of you’ [Darryl], the test of what Darryl’s inner self is all about.  The hardest test of all to pass.  This test has reached a new point and it is that of patience as I have mentioned, but oddly a test that only comes when the recovery is at a point that some sense of normality is beginning to return.

You could liken it to that last few kilometres of a long trip, the last lengths of the pool after a long swim, the last few hours of a sleepless night.  The end is now realistically in sight but at that point it can seem further away than when you first embarked.  I guess much of that is because you can only really measure the journey when you have travelled it, there is little to gauge it on before that point is reached.

The reason I say this is because we are really only weeks away from the first major finishing line – that of going home.  But both of us have had our moments over the past week or so which indicate we are in transition from the  journey to making the dash for, well home!!  Darryl, for the first time in his life is having to deal with the fact that he can’t use his physical strength, skill and determination to shortcut to the end.  He must tick off each milestone and while he is doing it remarkably quickly for a young man who lets face it, cheated death, he is still not used to his progress being slower than his patience can tolerate.  I believe it will be one of the most important lessons to come from this experience for him, but one that will be a challenge for the next few weeks I have no doubt.

So while we have had some mental challenges to address this week, Darryl has had some outstanding moments which give me great strength to keep myself focused in on the management of both body and mind as he strives forward.  Over the last week he has mastered standing up on his own and we managed a series of 15 stands and sits in a row by Friday.  When he does get up on his feet he can get his balance very well and stand straighter than what he has done (with the help of a few slaps and pokes in the butt cheeks and hips from me)

He was also given the opportunity to climb the stairs to the gym, Jim, but not as we know it – 10 stairs in all.  With the help of myself and the physio -terrorist as Ann has affectionately become known, Darryl climbed up the stairs and then back down twice.  Admittedly he was a little all over the place and did a lot of the walking with his left arm – pulling himself up the hand rail, but it was another great achievement.  On Friday that was followed up by a walk of some 120 metres, backward and forward outside the gym on the veranda.  The first 2 ‘runs’ were with the aid of a walker, to which I found the need to yell out “run Forrest run” as I held the frame steady.  The laughter that roared forth did nothing to improve his flaying legs of course, but it was one of those monents I couldn’t let go by.

The second two lengths of the veranda were with just myself and the physio-terrorist at each side and it was by far the best walking he has done.  He is still a wee way off going solo, but it is approaching.  The improvement is consistent and so it is reasonable to anticipate this point arriving some time soon (ish).  We are doing a lot more exercises in the down time that will assist with his walking and balance, as I figure it is a case of building strength and relearning,  rather than an automantic outcome.

The same applies with his right arm which is going to be a continuing project, but I am confident it will get there.  A couple of weeks ago he had virtually no active movement and now it exists in just about every range.  The connections are there, it’s just a matter of time and of course lots of work outs with what Darryl has coined the stick of misery!!!  I keep telling him it hurts me more than it hurts him, but he’s not buying that at this stage!

The highlight for the week and the reason for the comments about getting closer to normality, is that Darryl came home with us to the house we are staying in at Auckland.  It was a great milestone to tick off – real food for the soul and spirit.  Darryl came with us to the supermarket (which is only a few hundred metres away) and we did normal shopping stuff, albeit he was in a wheelchair that I refuse to learn to steer properly so I collected a few shelves and the odd shoppers’ heel along the way.  Darryl sat on the couch and then lay down on the couch and watched some rugby, chatting with his sister and brother and sharing some laughs.

Probably one of the most important moments of recent weeks however came when we played Darryl back some video we have taken of him from the earlier days in this journey.  Specifically we looked at the 15th of June, some seven weeks ago, when Darryl was stood up for the first time in a sling with the hoist.  In short he was a mixture of a limp, hanging head and trunk with limbs like twisted reinforcing steel that were less than malleable.

Darryl sat there in tears when he saw for the first time just how stunningly inactive, immobile and lifeless he was, compared to what he is now.  The comparison is nothing short of remarkable  and thankfully very obvious to him.  We made the point of really reinforcing just how far he has come and in such a short time, relatively speaking.  It came at a price because he probably has little concept of how bad things were, but the flip side of the coin is very positive.  The reality is he knows how far he has come and that has given  him perspective on the now and also just how much more he can achieve in the next seven weeks.  It was good therapy.

There were some other great milestones which I will skirt over given their nature.  Darryl was able to stand and use the toilet for the first time, in true blokey fashion (something he was happy to share on the blog, in fact took great delight in the idea as well as the action itself).  I got him into a normal shower with a seat inside for him to relax on and of course for the first time since the 24th of April, he slept in a proper queen size bed.  He lay there with a grin on his face that could best be described as looking like a dog chewing ….well you get my drift, but he was a happy little camper as we all came in to join in his slumber delight.

He sat up to the table and ate with us, he sat on the couch and enjoyed a coffee and spilled crumbs all over the place, just like he has done for years.  It was so normal I wanted to freeze frame the moment and just ‘be in it’ for a while, just to savour the warmth of familiarity that a while ago I was so scared I would lose forever.   A weekend full of normal stuff and to cap it all off, on the way back to the rehab tonight we were both singing to the music and Darryl broke out in an air guitar!!  A priceless moment of humour wrapped in layers of normality – if air guitar could be considered normal!

While Darryl was less than keen to return to the rehab, we discussed the time line ahead and the realities of home, the home we both yearn to return to and for the first time we can really sense it on the horizon.   It was a rewarding few moments and something I think we can both deservedly take heart from in, reflecting on the work that has been done and the promise this brings ahead.  It was uplifting .  

Darryl, the mid point in this journey has been reached, the mountain you are shifting is now bigger on the side that you have moved it to, than where you have moved it from.  So too then, with each step you take, do you help to erase the long and fear-filled days that lead this journey out.  Days I am thankful you will have no recollection of . You are now healing more than just you, Darryl.  I am thankful of that also.

Love always.

Dad

Monday 27th July – Sunday 2nd August

Published on 3 August 2009 in Progress. 23 Comments

Probably the easiest way to describe the last seven days is to make a comparison with a house build.  In the beginning there is a lot of ground work going on as the foundations are established and the floor is poured.  Upon this the frame is built and the house will quickly take shape, with a roof and walls giving the impression of a near completed home.  However it is only at this point that the finishing work can go on.  The detail can be competed and the shell becomes a living space from the inside out as well as from the outside in.

With this analogy in mind the last week has to me been about reaching a point where the frame is up and the roof is on and the exterior walls are all but completed.  Darryl is reaching a point where the finishing detail can begin.  But like any home build, it is the finishing that can seem so slow, slow detailed and even tedious.  The big gains have come early in this process, just like when building a house, but now comes the point where patience is more likely tested and progress is measured more in refinement than new and remarkable milestones.

However, Darryl still continues to tick more things of his rehab ‘to do’ list, more quickly than anyone expected and this week has seen some exciting developments, the most significant of them being Darryl coming to the home we are staying in at Auckland at the moment, to enjoy a Sunday roast lunch.  He is now at a point where we can do a standing transfer from his wheel chair to the front passenger seat of my car.  From this the world has just become a real place to him again.

We first did a transfer to the car on Monday and then went on a drive around town and to visit the house we are in.  It was an odd feeling; certainly for me as I haven’t ever seen the place in daylight given I leave and return each day in the dark.  But it felt so refreshingly normal to both be in the car driving along the motorway.  We even turned some music on and sang.  Something that would be painful to listen to no doubt, but I’d have to say it sounded pretty damn sweet to me.   

I caught myself glimpsing at Darryl through the corner of my eye as we drove along.  It many ways it could have been the ‘old’ Darryl.  Thinking like that is however a double edged sword as he is too far removed from his former self at the moment to allow the luxury of feeling that normality has returned.  As I have said before there is nothing normal about this and to allow a feeling of normality is in some ways to accept where he is at, which can only serve to blur the path still ahead.

And this is something I have noticed more so in this phase of the process.  Again, drawing on the house analogy, Darryl is now  a framed up largely closed in home but still well short of ‘livable’ in terms of the finishing detail.  So while from the ‘outside’ I or we could be forgiven for thinking that he is quickly reaching a point of completion the reality is that there is so much more to be done, to be achieved, so much that is crucial in terms of Darryl really coming back.  I guess it is a trap that can easily be fallen into.  As you get closer the goal it also becomes clear how far you still are away from it as ironic as that may sound.  

The issue becomes the patience that it takes to push on through what could seem like hitting the wall in a marathon.  The temptation to stop or give up becomes more powerful when the really hard yards present themselves.  I have a sense that this is where we are going now.  Darryl has been more restless and while we have been driving over recent days he keeps asking to “escape”, which we laugh off, but he geniunely is tiring of the daily grind of this process and for a boy who has always struggled with patience, just wanting to climb the largest ladder on the ’snakes and ladder’ board of rehab progress is a natural desire.  The issue is that there are no shortcuts in this process.  This is one time he will have to stay true to the entire course without shot cutting the ‘finishing’ detail.

Having said all that he still makes fantastic progress in the gym and has now stood unassisted for over four minutes at a time, batting back balloons to the physio, reaching out and touching her hand as she moves it around in front of him, while also swaying his hips around in a circle and side to side.  He did his most purposeful walk down the parallel bars this week also and has shown far more control over his right leg which is still catching up to his left in terms of strength and purposeful movement.

He now also does all his transfers either by standing and moving from the chair to the seat or bed or by sliding across on a slide board, meaning he is no longer hoisted in a sling from point A to point B.  We are also now getting to the point where his morning stretch and exercise session on his bed are more of a workout than his daily session up at the gym.  The physios in the morning session strap three kg weights on his legs and after multiple sets of leg raises and extensions there is certainly a bit of huffing and puffing going on.  I spend a lot of the time slapping and stimulating the muscles we are wanting to work, which has proven to be a productive way to encourage improvement in the selected muscle groups.   

But this week for me has been a tough one in terms of Darryl reaching that point where he may have a deeper sense of frustration at what still lays ahead.  He is concerned at the fact he still has a large part of his skull missing (removed on the day of the accident to allow the brain swelling) and that his right arm is slow to improve.  This combined with his slow and sometimes frustrating  process of talking sees him frequently questioning how long it will take for him to return to ‘normal’, answers to which I just can’t give of course.

I have tried to use the fact that he is now set to spend the weekends at home with us here in Auckland or at our own home in the North as a means of breaking down the days and weeks into bite size pieces each of which will be leading him closer to home for good.  He responds well to that, but as he said to me this morning during breakfast when I was trying to impart some guidance on staying the course, “patience is not my virtue”. We both laughed but to quote him once again “If I didn’t laugh I would probably cry”.

Darryl, the journey is one you have travelled quickly and with the utmost purpose, but now more than ever you must reach deep for that which will see you return to a life enriched by this event not curtailed by it.  I sense your growing frustration and it has taken its toll on me also as while I can help you improve through this process I cannot alter the course of time.

Remember that the test of you starts afresh each day, and in fact will continue all your life in many ways.  Each day deserves and requires the same commitment as the last, no matter how frustrating this can and will be in the weeks ahead.  I know that you will face these challenges as you have done to date, but it is important to understand that one of the greatest challenges of all will be accepting the passage of time itself.

The important thing to remember however is that time does not stand still, it will continue to move, as you will, ever closer to you, ever closer to all of us.       

I’m proud of you Darryl.

Dad.