Oscar Wilde
Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and a richness to life that nothing else can bring.
I parted the curtain at 8am to see my son sleeping soundly, the food trolley was nowhere to be seen so I went for a stroll. Hoards of people dressed in gym gear were piling out of the lift and heading down a corridor. I was curious and followed. Seamlessly they blended into a crowd walking counter-clockwise in a circle. Down the corridor, left through the gym, left through the back door and back down the corridor. They looked fit and smiled as they said hello on passing. No music, just walking and moving their arms as if trying to stay afloat in the ocean. I stopped and chatted to a nurse who was organizing the quiet, harmonious group. It was a gym class held every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday for prior patients who'd had cardiac surgery. Part of what some call the zipper club. I was invited to attend.
I waited for a break and moved against the current out of their way into an alcove. I loitered briefly and overheard "Who was that lovely young man who greeted us this morning?" Then "His son is...." I couldn't quite make out the rest but I'm sure one of them said I looked like Hugh Jackman. Maybe they said patients who'd had cataract surgery.
I parted the curtain at 8am to see my son sleeping soundly, the food trolley was nowhere to be seen so I went for a stroll. Hoards of people dressed in gym gear were piling out of the lift and heading down a corridor. I was curious and followed. Seamlessly they blended into a crowd walking counter-clockwise in a circle. Down the corridor, left through the gym, left through the back door and back down the corridor. They looked fit and smiled as they said hello on passing. No music, just walking and moving their arms as if trying to stay afloat in the ocean. I stopped and chatted to a nurse who was organizing the quiet, harmonious group. It was a gym class held every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday for prior patients who'd had cardiac surgery. Part of what some call the zipper club. I was invited to attend.
I waited for a break and moved against the current out of their way into an alcove. I loitered briefly and overheard "Who was that lovely young man who greeted us this morning?" Then "His son is...." I couldn't quite make out the rest but I'm sure one of them said I looked like Hugh Jackman. Maybe they said patients who'd had cataract surgery.
Lincolne slept well till 4:30 when he got hot, knocked the buzzer and the nurse came and removed his neck brace. With it off he felt a building pain and spent the next 20 minutes trying to knock the same buzzer. He has movement at the shoulder and limited movement at the elbow. We were laughing as he explained how he eventually moved his hand right up near his head and then flung his arm at the buzzer, striking it. He reckons it would have clocked a few views on YouTube. Needless to say he didn't sleep well for the balance of the night.
The morning routine is simple enough. I raise his bed, wipe his eyes with a damp cloth, pop his pills and herbal drops. I then give him a small amount of food, then a small amount of fluid, then wipe around his mouth. This is repeated till he's full, which takes about half an hour and a quarter as much food as it did prior to the injury. He tells me to slow down and likes to talk between mouthfuls. I then lay his clothes on his bed, make sure he is comfortable, scratch his nose, put balm on his lips, check his arms and legs, pray with him and leave. "I love you dad". I manage to keep it together and reply "I love you mate, see you at 12" He says "Good!", then I walk out and lose it.
He had a better experience at the gym today, working so hard he puked. He received his electric wheel chair (stay off the pavement!) and was visited by many family and friends including a surprise visit from his girlfriend Kodi from Queensland. The doctors also visited, no improvement, just progressing through the rehabilitation process.
Every day I hear a new story that brings me hope, like that of Patrick Rummerfield. A quad for 3 years before he began to walk and use his hands again, and eventually completed an ironman triathlon. Every day I also hear a new story from a long term quad - a life with pain, complication, degradation, but always with friends and happiness.
Tonight when I came in to ready him for sleep the nurses had pushed him to the side of the bed. He was cuddling his sweetheart Kodi and was very happy. The colour is back in his face and for the first time in a week he looked like the same handsome man we all know. I take great care cleaning his ears. He can't blow his nose. His now limited lung capacity makes this impossible. He has splints for his hands at night to stop the fingers clawing.
Lincolne prayed tonight, he thanked God for his many blessings and asked that He bless family and friends who are in distress because of his injury to be comforted. He also prayed that he may recover enough, quickly to move onto the rehab center so that he can continue to progress.
I waited for a break and moved against the current out of their way into an alcove. I loitered briefly and overheard "Who was that lovely young man who greeted us this morning?" Then "His son is...." I couldn't quite make out the rest but I'm sure one of them said I looked like Hugh Jackman. Maybe they said patients who'd had cataract surgery.
Lincolne slept well till 4:30 when he got hot, knocked the buzzer and the nurse came and removed his neck brace. With it off he felt a building pain and spent the next 20 minutes trying to knock the same buzzer. He has movement at the shoulder and limited movement at the elbow. We were laughing as he explained how he eventually moved his hand right up near his head and then flung his arm at the buzzer, striking it. He reckons it would have clocked a few views on YouTube. Needless to say he didn't sleep well for the balance of the night.
The morning routine is simple enough. I raise his bed, wipe his eyes with a damp cloth, pop his pills and herbal drops. I then give him a small amount of food, then a small amount of fluid, then wipe around his mouth. This is repeated till he's full, which takes about half an hour and a quarter as much food as it did prior to the injury. He tells me to slow down and likes to talk between mouthfuls. I then lay his clothes on his bed, make sure he is comfortable, scratch his nose, put balm on his lips, check his arms and legs, pray with him and leave. "I love you dad". I manage to keep it together and reply "I love you mate, see you at 12" He says "Good!", then I walk out and lose it.
He had a better experience at the gym today, working so hard he puked. He received his electric wheel chair (stay off the pavement!) and was visited by many family and friends including a surprise visit from his girlfriend Kodi from Queensland. The doctors also visited, no improvement, just progressing through the rehabilitation process.
Every day I hear a new story that brings me hope, like that of Patrick Rummerfield. A quad for 3 years before he began to walk and use his hands again, and eventually completed an ironman triathlon. Every day I also hear a new story from a long term quad - a life with pain, complication, degradation, but always with friends and happiness.
Tonight when I came in to ready him for sleep the nurses had pushed him to the side of the bed. He was cuddling his sweetheart Kodi and was very happy. The colour is back in his face and for the first time in a week he looked like the same handsome man we all know. I take great care cleaning his ears. He can't blow his nose. His now limited lung capacity makes this impossible. He has splints for his hands at night to stop the fingers clawing.
Lincolne prayed tonight, he thanked God for his many blessings and asked that He bless family and friends who are in distress because of his injury to be comforted. He also prayed that he may recover enough, quickly to move onto the rehab center so that he can continue to progress.
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