Sharing the load ...

I was late to the hospital yesterday, 8:07am. Sharon planned to be there early so Kodi could feed Lincolne breakfast before she heads back to Queensland. For two years they’ve maintained a long distance relationship. In the past, when I ask him what he likes about Kodi he give me that “are you an idiot?” look. Then a cheeky smile comes across his face and he replies “she’s pretty hot”. He may not have expressed it to me but there’s a lot more depth to the relationship then he was letting on. If Lincolne was going to hurt his neck it was because he was on the phone to Kodi. Whether he was frying an egg, playing computer games or laying in bed, his neck would be cranked, holding the phone to his shoulder, talking to Kodi. They would talk on the phone for hours at a time, every day, and spend a small fortune travelling to see each other. She is his happy, the thing he looks forward to most in his life. It began as an online relationship, then Lincolne baptising Kodi into our church just over a year ago. Before Lincolne was 18 I would fly to Queensland with him as chaperone. He hated it. I loved it. Kodi lived at the top of Tamborine Mountain. I’d take my bike and ride the mountain, sometimes with Kodi’s mum. I was enforcing curfews and seriously cramping his style.

Kodi is very bright, and about to walk away from a scholarship to study business and psychology. She will move to the Central Coast and live with her grandmother to be closer to Lincolne. She was heard talking to the physios in the gym day before yesterday. She’s grilling them with questions about their career, contemplating becoming a physiotherapist so she’d be more help for Lincolne. I don’t know if she’s making the right choices but, to use the words of her father “who am I to stand in the way of love”. Sharon & I have the deepest heartfelt gratitude for her. Her being here gives him so much hope and motivation for the future.

So I arrived at the hospital and Lincolne didn’t need me. I figured I’d go into the room and help anyway, maybe Cobie with her breakfast, or Jonathan, or the new roomie, Phillip (more about him another time). No, they were all covered and I felt redundant. It’s a pretty low point in the day when you are in a room with four new quads and none of them need your help. Cobie teased me. Truthfully, who would you rather serve you breakfast, some old wanna be who’d like to look like Hugh Jackman but really looks like Murray Wiggle, or Kodi?

Tony could see I was down and offered for me to help him pack gloves after breakfast. He’s a volunteer at the hospital. He is old, he is short, he is bald, but has an enormous genuine heart and bright lively eyes. He’s always happy, the happy that comes from a life of serving others, the kind that money can’t create or destroy. He packed the gloves without me.

Lincolne is almost ready to leave acute spinal care and move on to the rehabilitation unit at Ryde. Once he has mastered his electric wheel chair they will put him on the waiting list, probably Thursday. The list is ordered by accident date. Cobie has been on the list for a couple of weeks, a place became available Monday and she was eager to go, but had a small complication with her injury so it went to someone else. We’ve been told it could take a couple of months for Lincolne to get a spot. We have the best private health cover money can buy and end up on a list just the same. I’d be angry if the staff at the hospital and his roomies weren’t so endearing.

As the pain management is dialled down, Lincolne becomes more and more alert, and I find myself slipping into the old methods of fatherhood, where I fight not to project my aspirations for him too strongly. Years ago I’d tell him what he should do, how he should do it, what he should be. It drove a wedge between us and our relationship suffered enormously. He’s my oldest son, I made all the mistakes of fatherhood on him and I was paying a terrible price. It reached its worst when he was in year eleven and I became worried about his future. At the end of year eleven, after discussing the state of our relationship with Sharon and my good friend Bill, I decided to step back. I would support and encourage him with as much as I could, and let the rest slide. It took enormous discipline, but I rediscovered what a fantastic guy his is, his artistic flair and felt I’d got the love of my son back. I have apologised many times for the way I treated him, he forgives with a “that’s cool dad”, but you never really forgive yourself for the scars and heartache you cause. At a family night a couple of years ago Sharon asked the kids what they like about their father, I can’t remember who responded but they said “he doesn’t get angry or shout anymore”. Two years later, being asked the same question I feel pleased with the certainty that those two words, shouting and angry, wouldn’t even feature in the response. I’m still learning, but I’m a better father than I used to be, and I will continue support and encourage him with the things I can.

Lincolne’s cycle, wake up happy and full of energy at 8am, eat breakfast, toilet, shower, back in bed. All that takes three to four hours for his room. Eat lunch then into his chair ready for the gym by 2pm. The energy levels and happiness drop from here. Gym is and hour long, all the time spent with physiotherapists strengthening his muscles and stretching to ensure full range of motion. Then he's with the occupational therapist, who teaches him how to use what he has to assist his living and work toward independence. This is the most exhausting because it requires focus and concentration. By 3:30pm he's spent and drifts in and out of sleep for a few hours. By 6pm he has his energy back, ready for dinner and at his most entertaining, charming self. 9pm visitors get the boot, 10:30pm I get the boot and he's ready for bed. Through the day and night he is "turned" every three hours to prevent bed sores.

I stayed at home for the first time in 12 days last night. The house is full of flowers and food. I'm overcome by the generosity of others, allowing the family more time together, and better able to cope with the new life. I slept in this morning and rose feeling so guilty it made me sick, worrying whether Sharon got to the hospital in time to feed him breakfast. Will she remember to wipe his face, carefully around they eyes? Stupid I know, feeling redundant still. Today I’m looking forward to breakfast at a café with my daughters, then back to the hospital. Contemplating what the weather at Cradle Mountain is like.