A senior in high school, making plans for college, Matthew was one of those all around wonderful people. He was equally at ease doing weekend mechanic work on our Jeep, as he was helping a fellow student with his algebra homework.
Things changed suddenly. Sometime around midnight on that November night, I dozed off to sleep. Matthew was supposed to be home at 12:00, but at seventeen, with good grades to boot, I figured i would cut him a little slack, and not yell too much when he came in late.
I was awakened by a knock on the door around 12:30. Two somber looking policemen wold me my son had been in an accident, and was in the Emergency room at Carraway Hospital, in Birmingham. (Our residence is about 20 miles from Birmingham, AL). They also told me he was unconscious. It seems he didn't have his drivers' license, and they had tracked me down via his tag number on his '90 Chevrolet Silverado. They had my address, but not my phone number, so they came in person.
My wife and I began the 20 minute journey to the hospital. It seemed like an eternity. On the way, we used the cell phone to call relatives, and Matthew's mom, Donna, who 60 or 70 miles from us.
I remember walking into the hospital around 1:00 AM Nov 8, my stomach drawn up in knots. The waiting room was empty, and a few tired looking staffers were hanging out waiting for thier shift to end. I asked about Matthew, and they led me to another waiting room where I was told a chaplain would come talk to me.
A Chaplain??? Oh God, I almost passed out. I just knew he had died while I was in route to the hospital.
Instread of the chaplain, a surgeon came out. He told me Matthew was getting a CT scan, and was unconscious.
It was later, when Matthew was transferred to NICU, that the term "Unconscious" was replaced with "comatose".
Matthew was in what the doctors called the "acute" period. He was very close to death. as a matter of fact, one of the neuro-surgeons later admitted he had not expected my son to make it.
There was a large blood clot in his central brain, he had shearing, hematoma's of some kind, and God knows what else. For two weeks, it was touch and go. Inter-cranial pressures rose, procedures were done, drugs administered, until finally, thing began to change.
His pressure began going down, and sometime in the fourth week, he began opening his eyes.
Man, I was excited! I was thinking, it will be no time till we're Jeep riding again, laughing, telling jokes. We made it! He came out of the coma! God DOES answer prayers.
After 30 days, my son was still unrepsonsive. I'd yell at him.nothing. I'd ask him to raise a finger.nothing.
A very frank talking doctor told us that since it had been 30 days, chances are Matthew would be in a vegetative state the rest of his life. Suddenly I began to wonder if keeping him alive was the best thing. Suddenly I began thinking God had royaly screwed me. I had been praying for my son to live, but.as a veggie?? I lost a lot of sleep over the next few weeks.
OK, this is getting long, so I'll fast forward. Let me just say, the depression almost killed me. I gained and lost weight, and had some health problems, mostly related to my fear, anger, you name it.
Matthew started responding after about four months. My wife, Matt's step mom, quit hew job and stayed with Matthew, working with him tirelessly. He was in Rehab at HealthSouth Lakeshore for about a month, and then was "promoted" to out patient.
First the bad stuff: 18 months post accident and Matt doesn't walk. He is making progress with a walker. Matt doesn't talk. He is starting to say a few words, with much difficulty. Matt has a feeding tube. He eats fine now, but has trouble with liquids.
Now, the good stuff, Matt is very intelligent. He reads, has good memory, and I even go Jeep riding with him. He laughs at my stupid jokes, and has, for the most part, a very sweet, warm disposition, good sense of humor, and most of his old personality.
And although the neuro gurus told me he would improve for only two years, I still hold out hope that he will speak to me again, and be able to get out of his wheelchair, walk, and regain independence.
And as a side note, I'm having a good day. I was visiting the TBI chat room today, and got lots of encouragement. Thanks everyone, and I hope one day to have Matt write his own story.
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