The mother of a severly brain-injured man writes of her joy

He’s my oldest and I am the mother of three boys. I had no problem with him when he was growing up, he was an all-around good kid.

He worked with his father, he loved the shop, he enjoyed buying clothes, he loved music, he collected comic books. We had a good life together.

Then one night, in 1999, my son was walking home. He was robbed, beaten and kicked about the head, his skull was completely crushed in. He was left for dead. They performed emergency surgery, then the doctor had a meeting with his father and me.

I’ll never forget the words he said to us. He said: “I’m going to tell you this, if your son pulls out of this, which we don’t know if he will or not, in the next 72 hours, he will be a vegetable the rest of his life.”

It was hard for me to deal with seeing my son laying there, not being able to eat, not being able to show any signs of trying to communicate and to know that he would never be able to speak again.

I wanted to bring him home sometimes, when the weather was nice, for a few hours, but I was informed by the doctors that I couldn’t do that because of the nature of his illness. He might choke to death.

I had to do a do-not-resuscitate order, there was just no use as he would always be a vegetable, and you can imagine how hard that was for me. I mean my son was still young and each time I visited my son in the nursing home on my way home, I would cry, as it’s so hard for a mother to see her son like that, and I’d pray for a miracle.

In 2005 the opportunity came. It was a big decision for his father and I to make and we decided – what can we lose? If it does work for our son, just imagine how many other families could benefit from this.

The most important part is he can now say “Mommy” and “Pop”. He can say: “I love you, Mommy.”

God bless those wonderful doctors who believed in my son, and gave their time and effort to help my son. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, and I want to tell all the mothers, don’t ever give up hope. I want you to know I still cry every time I see my son, but now it’s tears of joy.

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