Part 5: A Special Person and a Special Day

While I was in the ‘spinal’ ward there was a young boy (one of many) who had been paralysed in a car accident, I think his name was Giopetso or something. He couldn’t have been older than 13 or 14. He certainly had a long, hard slog ahead of him. I also never noticed anyone visiting him, I always wondered if he had anyone.

NOTE: Name replaced.. for protection etc etc ;-)

I had amazing support from my family and loved ones during my time in Riverfield. My Mom visited basically every day, despite the dangerous road that had to be negotiated to get there. My sister Georgy put in big effort finding out what I would like for her to bring in terms of food etc etc and made it happen –very cool. My Dad (whom I don’t really see/speak to that often) also came around often even though he lived far away. [Girlfriend], my girlfriend at the time was also tremendous. Always visiting me, bringing me things and being her lovely self with positivity and encouragement. From around halfway through my London stay I started to realize that she was going to be my life partner, and that I loved her very dearly. I had planned to propose perhaps in early January of 2008, once I had a half-decent position at the ISS and was earning a bit of money. There was never any doubt in my mind that she was the one. [Girlfriend] was someone who made me feel that much more like something special, like someone of consequence. She always made me feel like I could do ANYTHING. We had the most fun together, always laughing and being silly. She was an extremely caring and loving individual, and I always felt her love for me through my period in rehab.

In early September I decided that I wanted to propose to [Girlfriend], and my Mom and I conspired to put together a plan to make it all come together. Two or so years before I had given my good friend Kevin a small amount of money to invest in the stock market (he’s a futures trader), thanks to Kev’s talent and ability that money had grown exponentially and I wanted to use some of that money to get the ring. My Mom had a large, very beautiful diamond which she wanted to pass on to me to use in an engagement ring  -this would be the diamond that I would use. My Mom basically did everything. She looked at different designs, brought me pictures, and together we discussed what would be the best. The ring turned out to be a spectacular success, very beautiful. It was white gold, with the diamond set in the middle with two tiny diamonds on either side of it. It was truly something to behold. [Girlfriend]’s birthday was coming up and we saw an ideal opportunity to put our plan into action without letting on what we were doing. I did, of course, first have to ask permission from her parents. Because of my predicament it was a bit leftfield. I texted her parents and asked if they might come to Riverfield on a certain day (they often visited me anyway –the best people). Outside the brain injury ward we sat chatting, as often before when they had brought me delicious food and other bits and bobs (they were great!). In my text I had said that I wanted to ask them something, so I think they might have had an idea of what was coming. Mom was there too, as it was important for both families to be there. I said to them that [Girlfriend] made me feel like I could do anything and that I loved her very much. I said that because she believed so much in me, it made me believe so much in myself. She was my everything and I wanted to spend the rest of my life having fun with her. The folks were happy (thankfully) to grant permission and complete support (which, considering I was basically a broken man, was quite something). I was chuffed, and hugs and kisses were exchanged all-round.

We arranged that the two families would go to Kloofsicht (in The Cradle) for [Girlfriend]’s birthday lunch, during which I would propose. We had reserved a table on the veranda overlooking the lake and mountains. I had managed to get a ‘weekend pass’ out of Riverfield. Both families were there, [Girlfriend]’s brother, his girlfriend Gillian, and Margie and Ross. On our side it was Mom, Rick, Kayleigh, Ian (a friend of Mom’s), and me of course. My Mom was so amazing through all this (unsurprisingly); she arranged that down at the lake a small gazebo be set up with a table and chairs, together with an ice-bucket with champagne and flowers. The plan was that I take [Girlfriend] on a ‘walk’ (limp) ‘just to have a look’ and then take her to the gazebo and propose. She would be completely surprised. It went off without a hitch. Everyone that was there knew that I was going to ask her, it was quite something. So, during lunch we took a walk and I lead her to the gazebo. At first she noticed that the table and stuff had been set up and thought that it was for somebody else. I managed to eventually get her sat down though. To tell the truth, I think I kind of stumbled over my words, but I told her how much I loved her and that she was very special to me. When I finally asked her I had the ring in my hand and was sitting in front of her (I was not strong enough to be confident of kneeling without falling over yet), rather than say yes, she broke down into what was a happy mixture of laughter and tears, which I took as a ‘yes’ and quickly slipped the ring onto her finger –no chances taken there.        

It was truly a joyous moment. Everyone was ecstatic and there were more tears and laughter when we returned to the table, hand in hand. There were photos taken what seemed like every second, and thus the day was recorded forever digitally. More importantly, both the families were there to witness the happy day.

At this stage I didn’t really know how we were going to ‘do this’ but I knew I wanted to do it with [Girlfriend]. I knew we had a long road ahead of us, but I was so very happy.

As the weeks wore on in rehab, I was desperate to go home. Eventually my medical aid thought that was enough, and they pulled the plug. I was happy to go home, extremely so. Unfortunately, being released from rehab did not mean that I was recovered. Sure, I could walk (limping a bit), and I could dress myself, but amazingly (agonizingly) my ankle still refused to produce that long-awaited dorsi-flexion. Although I was out of Riverfield, my rehab would continue on a daily basis. I would go for physiotherapy and OT at a place called RehabMatters in Rivonia. I could still not drive though, so I had to be taken and collected there everyday. It was quite a jacked up place, with expensive machines and plenty of Physiotherapists. RehabMatters had a different idea of rehab to Riverfield. Instead of seeing the same therapist every time, a patient would see a different one (usually every time). This was strange to me as I had become accustomed to the idea of having one therapist only and therefore having the opportunity to build a relationship with that person which would ultimately be conducive to making progress. Nevertheless, so it was. In the end I suppose it was fine. I worked with various physios, some better than others. I preferred when the sessions were harder and more demanding, and as such preferred the physios who were tougher. Carmen was one of the physios that I most enjoyed working with as she had an interest in triathlons and endurance sport, and we chatted about that often. Because of that interest, she was also aware of what I wanted to work towards physically, and what might be the best way forward.

We often made use of the treadmill that was there. It was a seriously high-tech, expensive piece of equipment. It could measure gait and stride length differences and foot placement, among a slew of other things. Although dosi-flexion was still not there, I was able to put together what looked like a running motion. It looked like you might imagine someone running with a knee or leg injury, very ‘bumpy’ and not really a smooth running motion at all. But I was running, it was sweet! Some of the physios surmised that I must have at least a tiny amount of dorsi-flexion in order to be able to run without dragging my left foot badly. That might have been the case, but for some reason I could not produce that motion in isolation.

I also continued seeing OTs at RehabMatters. I started working with Haley Norval, a delightful lady who always seems to be smiling and happy. Normally I don’t like those types, but Haley won me over with her sincerity, softness, and kindness. My short-term memory had been cooked a bit by the strokes and it was up to Haley to try to resurrect it (my brain had to be rewired –once brain cells die they do not grow back/regenerate). We did all kinds of puzzles and memory games in order to stimulate my mind and get it going again. Working with Haley was always a fun thing, and I generally looked forward to seeing her.

I continued to get stronger and stronger, albeit in small, baby steps. The physio sessions were getting easier and easier, the sessions with Haley continued to be entertaining and valuable. In physio we often focused on trying to get THAT ankle going, it just wasn’t playing the game. What also was very tricky was trying to co-ordinate my two legs into doing odd movements like skipping or jumping – this was very frustrating (to this day those kinds of movements are difficult for me –I am, now, very clumsy). One day I made an astounding jump in progress in the most unexpected place: in front of the TV. I was watching TV, probably waiting to go to therapy or something and as I always did when just sitting around, I was trying to get some dorsi-flexion going in THAT ankle. To my utter amazement, the foot spontaneously moved strongly in the way that I was dreaming of! It wasn’t massively controlled, but there was the unmistakable (strong!) dorsi-flexion that had eluded me for so long. Amazing, just like that.