Tomorrow Jake begins his rehabilitation journey. He has been medically stable now for weeks, is safely installed in boot camp, his weekly schedule has been agreed and we have met most of the team. He is also making real progress, but more of that later.
This move to rehab has made me look back over the past 4 months and it feels like
another country, one where we lurched from one overwhelming drama to another
and the enormity of what had happened cast a heavy, menacing shadow over every
part of our lives. Today I feel bizarrely removed from it all, almost as though
I am looking back over footage filmed in another age that doesn't really relate
I know for example, that in the first two weeks my heart was ripped from my
chest as we were repeatedly told Jake was unlikely to survive and I felt a
terror and pain that cannot be put into words, it was like someone was
sandpapering my soul. I also know that over this period I felt frightened,
abandoned, angry, lost, cheated, misunderstood, fiercely loved, cared for,
supported and protected all at once. It feels now like it happened to someone
else; like I have been able to observe and learn from a truly toxic experience
without getting any on me! Odd.
Today I feel calm, strong, optimistic, hopeful and purposeful. It's almost
as if before the accident my life was viewed through an old analogue TV; today
it's a life viewed in high definition. Perspective is forever changed and it is
now time to look forward and face a new future.
Don't fret, I'm not in denial and I do realise that we are at the start of
what will no doubt be a frustrating, bloody and exhausting journey for us all.
But a lesson that I was given some time ago by a lovely lady called Jess but am
only just learning, is that you have to look for the good in every situation,
you have to actively recognise the things you should be grateful for.
My husband has a severe brain injury, but he is alive. Our life has changed
forever and many of the plans we had must be put aside, but we have new
opportunities and I know with a certainty I have never felt before that we will
make the most of these. We will have a good life; different, but good.
Today Jake continues to demonstrate that you should never write a Korving
off. His ability to communicate continues to improve, as does his awareness and
wakefulness. He still has the same sense of silliness that made me love him and
when he rewards you with one of his full-dimple smiles it is the best feeling
in the world. He has started to move his legs a little and his co-ordination is
coming along although his fine motor skills are not great at the moment
(scratching the right bit of his nose is a challenge sometimes). From the
limited communication we have been able to have so far it seems that there may
be some issues with past memories, but that's ok, we'll make better new ones.
His determination is awe inspiring and I get a childish sense of glee when I
see the surprised looks on the medical teams faces.
He is still bed bound, double incontinent, being fed through a tube in his
stomach and there is still a Pandora’s
box of potential problems to face; but he has already achieved so much more
than expected and that's before he benefits from the expertise of the boot camp
I married an extraordinary man. I am grateful for that.