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.
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