I was, as always, with my son today. After he had downed the green sludge he calls a smoothie and I simply call vile, he suggested he needed time for it to settle before breakfast. I had to agree, this stuff simply gloops into the glass. I couldn’t agree, however, that exercise was the best way to keep it going down. I’m fairly sure my own stomach would have other ideas were I ever to drink the stuff.
Now some of these exercises are a bit of a joint effort. Much of the time, thankfully, all I have to do these days is observe and make sure he’s getting it right. Sometimes, however, I have to demonstrate and I was thankful today that he agreed the shots of me with my feet in the air should never see the light of day. It worries me a tad that he still has them as ammunition… However, I couldn’t complain as I had been snapping pictures myself. “There has to be an article in those shots…” I had laughed. He said I should write it, given what we had been discussing.
I seem to have written a lot about Nick lately. There are reasons, mainly to do with how much he is progressing. This morning, as I was dismantling the heavy, weighted walking frame he has hitherto needed just to cross his living room, I couldn’t help thinking about that. To be folding this thing up after several years and consigning it to the shed had me near tears. It had already been an emotional morning. It had all started with the balancemaster, a machine he had installed to help him regain that function, lost to his injuries. He had showed me the latest, quite amazing progress and I, as often happens, had ended up in tears. A screwdriver through the brain is bad enough, but while his recovery from the damage caused by that initial injury was utterly miraculous. The secondary damage from the prolonged subarachnoid bleeding and excessive pressure within the brain cavity is a different matter and affects many of his motor functions and balance. He had woken from the coma paralysed down his entire right side, and though hemiplegia had fairly soon given way to hemiparesis, with the spasticity and the lack of coordination and control, the outlook wasn’t good. His chances of recovering , we were given to understand, were about zero. I could bore you with the details, but Nick suggested I show you instead.
We, of course, we simply overjoyed to still have him with us and his personality definitely ‘all there’. I had told the surgeon that if Nick came back, he would come back fighting and I was right. There was the first time he was able to move at all.. the first words.. the first time he sat alone and stood… There was also the hidden damage, the emotional rollercoaster and the dark times. It has not been plain sailing. Nor is recovery from such an injury merely a case of waiting for time to heal and perhaps a little physiotherapy to get things underway.
There were ten, twelve, fourteen hour days… where Nick spent every minute working for his recovery. There was seldom a minute where he was not doing something focussed. His body, weakened, unresponsive and malfunctioning, he honed, strengthened and bullied, bit by painful bit, into doing as he asked. Everything from facial exercises to reading aloud, from lifting weights to sweating on a gym ball. It was non stop. What we didn’t know, we learned, what we couldn’t learn, we made up for with improvised gadgetry and common sense. Little by little he made headway.
There were times… are times… when the progress seemed to halt. Those plateau moments are hard. Nick seldom looks back to see where he has come from. To begin with his mind, still only functioning in low gear, simply thought he would recover, as if the injuries were no different from a broken bone. Then he determined he would recover. He blocked out the way he was in the early days. It was too much. Now, finally, he can look back without shame at ‘what he was’ and see what he has achieved.
Watching him exercise today, we were laughing. To be fair, there was no way you couldn’t… some of the positions he got himself into were just very strange. At one point he looked as if he was bidding fair to become a one-man human alphabet. On the other hand, the control, the strength and the flexibility he has acquired are incredible. Yet these are not goals in themselves, but tools he can use to carry himself to the next step… quite literally.
Today I put the heavyweight walking frame away and replaced it with a lightweight version he can take outdoors with him; something that may be hard to really understand for the rest of us, but which, to him, is a major victory. He shouldn’t be able to walk at all, yet he can…albeit slowly and with support. The next step is to learn to do it outside, alone…. Then unsupported.
So far the journey has lasted almost six years.. six years of unremitting hard work. And we don’t know how long it will take to achieve the goal. We don’t even know if it is possible. We do, however, believe that it is. And that is what prompted me to write today… and why Nick thought I could.
Because it doesn’t matter what it is, we all face impossible-seeming tasks and situations at some point in our lives. We all have unrealistic dreams we want to achieve. Uphill struggles where we seem to be wading through treacle. We all have a goal that hovers just out of reach. We will never reach that goal, achieve that dream or beat the odds if we do not try. “I would hate to look back and wonder if I could have done it… I don’t want to regret not having tried,“ said Nick.
If you aim for the moon and miss, you might just hit an unexpected star… you can never tell what is out there, but it is certain that you will hit nothing unless you pull back the bow and let the arrow fly, if you allow your dreams to be silenced. No matter what your dream may be… take aim for the moon and see where the arrow falls. Nick may never attain his goal of walking, alone and unaided through a green field. He may never walk alone along a deserted shoreline at dawn. He knows this. So do I. But there is a chance that he could and for this he works. Even if he ‘fails’, he has already gained much, not least his health and fitness, a huge amount of control of his own body… and the right to hold his head up high for what he has achieved.
Nick
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
I have so much respect for you both. Wow. (And he’s rather handsome, too, isn’t he?) 😉
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Thank you. Both my boys are 🙂
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Words fail me, Sue. All I can do is wish you and your family all you hope for yourselves in the future. J x
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Thanks Judith. I’ll settle for seeing both my sons happy.
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Wow! Nick is pretty incredible to have come such a long, long way. You must be so proud of his achievement.
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I am, both he and his younger brother, Alex, are sons to be proud of.
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I have no words either, Sue. So many emotions in my head and heart, but the only thing to come out is wet on my face. Much love to you all…
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Thank you… and hugs. x
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Reblogged this on Anita & Jaye Dawes and commented:
So much love and courage…
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An inspiring post. It takes a strong spirit to do what Nick has done.
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Thanks, Annabelle. My son is both strong and stubborn, which seems to be serving him well.
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Nick is truly an inspiration to us all. The will to try shows the spark of God. “The force runs strong in this one.” 😉
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Now funnily enough he calls one of his physios Yoda.. 😉
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I love it! 😀
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Well, it is far better than some of the things he calls me 😉
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Sons always save the best for their mums! 😉 Twisted love.
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Yep, mine both have a knack for that 😉
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I am moved beyond words…
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Thank you, Paul.
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What a journey he’s been on. The inner strength and motivation to keep going against the odds is remarkable.
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He’ll keep going too. The normality he once hoped to regain may have morphed into something different, but he won’t give up till he can function fully again.
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Sue, this beautifully captures the inspiring journey you and your son have travelled together over all these years. I was deeply moved to read it and hope you do not mind my reblogging it.
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Thank you, Pete, and for sharing too. I am a firm believer in the good inherent even in these seemingly appalling situations. I have seen Nick’s strength and story help a lot of people so far… and he isn’t finished yet.
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Reblogged this on Everybody Means Something and commented:
I have just read this moving and deeply inspiring account of Sue’s and her son’s journey towards his recovery. As a passionate believer in the power of the mind to mend its brain beyond any ceiling we can imagine provided the power of choice and motivation is still accessible, I feel this post is obligatory reading for all those of us with a hill of any kind to climb.
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Amazing images, Sue, and a truly inspiring ongoing story. xxx
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I’m still not sure he should be able to get into some of those postitions though.. not sure any body should 😉 xxx
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Good stuff, Sue – all excellent to hear! Adrian 🙂
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He has plans….. 🙂
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You and Nick are amazing! You and he may not realize how inspiring his journey is to others and in truth it doesn’t matter, because you are achieving your goals through hard work. I have no doubt that he will do what he has set out to do. I have a long way to go to write like the people that I meet on the blogs. Nick makes me want to keep trying. That is what I am taking away from your post. Thank you!
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Thank you. That is pretty much all we wanted to say. And sometimes the trying is its own reward.
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I am utterly spell bound by his, and your, devotion to his well being. When I got to the part where you said he can now look back without shame….it made my reading stutter. It felt painful to read that he would ever have felt any shame at where he was. It sounds like at no point did he ever give up or give in. I look at him in all of the same pictures and see an energy and spirit. Thank you, and thank him, for sharing his story. Many of us will never have to test ourselves or push ourselves to that level. He is a model on many many levels.
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It makes me cringe too, knowing that is how he felt for so very long, when all the world except him could see the extraordinary journey he was taking. Thank you .
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You’re welcome. I hope he has erased ‘shame’ from his vocabulary in reference.
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I’d like to hope so too.
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What an amazing journey for both Nick and you, his family. I cannot even begin to imagine were I to endure such agony with one of my children… His progress, after reading of his determination, is truly a testament of the human Spirit more than anything the medical world might offer. Thank you both for allowing a peek… xo
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It isn’t an experience I would wish on anyone. But then, the other side is, as you say, to watch the flowering of the human spirit. x
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Reblogged this on graemecummingdotnet and commented:
I’ve shared the occasional post from Sue Vincent before. They seem to have fit in with my original purpose for this blog site, which was to share stories about life’s lessons. Even though I’ve broadened that now, those life lessons are still important – and I promise there are more to come (will they ever stop? I ask myself regularly).
But this one came out of the blue for me. In my pick and mix way of dipping into other people’s blogs, I think I’d gathered that one of Sue’s sons had experienced “problems” in the past, but I’d somehow missed the full extent of them. I deliberately used inverted commas there because I don’t want to pre-empt anything you read here. Do read it, and if you don’t feel a greater sense of determination about your own life at the end of it… read it again.
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Wow. What a great inspiration to keep fighting!
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I think so 🙂
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I get the impression he has an outlook somewhat like mine: Tell mt it can’t be done, and I’ll do my best to prove you wrong… within certain limits.
The last picture shows amazing progress, even if it does seem slow. Like you stated, he shouldn’t have been able, according to the “experts”, to get where he is now.
Congrats to the whole family, for I’m sure the support he gets is the best therapy! And laughter…
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There’s plenty of laughter, yes 🙂
You have my son’s attitude down to a ‘T’.Except I’m not sure he admits of any limits. 🙂
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I can truthfully say I’ve never been able to coax, whine or bruteforce my body into those poses!!! Duly impressed!!!
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Neither have I, Darcy 🙂
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Oh my. Nick is strong, remarkable, and has my heart. As his Mom, you also have my heart. May you and Nick and entire family continue to grow and reap rewards in every possible positive way.
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Thank you, Elana. It certainly won’t be for want of trying 🙂
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Wow! This post leaves me without other words. Just, right on, and wow!
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Thanks, Eilis.
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Reblogged this on oshriradhekrishnabole.
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This is so impressive and inspiring Sue. Good luck to Nick!
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Thank you 🙂 I know he’s reading the comments 🙂
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Sue, that is just great. He can do things in overcoming his injury that I could never do even when I was young and in good shape. I can’t get over it. I was never, on my best day, that limber. No telling how far he’ll go and what he’ll accomplish. 🙂
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No telling at all, Suzanne… except he will definitely go far 🙂
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I am absolutely in awe of him and of his parents!! What an amazing young man!! Close to tears and I really don’t know what else to say!
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Thank you… my son amazes me often 🙂
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A remarkable story of courage and determination. I am in awe.
Thank you Nick for allowing your Mum to share this with us all.
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Thank you… he is a remarkable man.
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Sue, thank you so much for sharing this with me. I would like to share it tomorrow on my blog. I’ll do a short piece about the Rodeo and add portions of this and the next one I’m going to read to it with links to bring readers back to your blog. This is an amazing story. Why was his back so twisted in the early photos? Was it because of the paralysis? How astounding that he could overcome the paralysis. I’m in awe. BTW, he is very handsome, too, and his flexibility is enviable – just not the way he got it. 🙂 You both have had a remarkable journey and made the best of the worst possible scenario.
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