The Last Post

This is tough....and and bittersweet ... truth be told, I really don't know where to begin.

The update .... Conor has now been cleared by ALL the doctors. The last was the Neuropsychologist. There is some minor residual effects from the brain damage ... but there is every reason to expect complete recovery in the coming months. The neuropsych exam took place just 6 months post-injury (early days in the progress of a Traumatic Brain Injury ... the usual recovery is 2 years). Conor still has some "visual tracking" problems, for example ... connect the dots ... catching a ball at close range. With practice and exercise .. these will clear up.

He now walks without a limp. Extraordinary! He is well into a 'work hardening" programme with the physiotherapist ... and there is every expectation that he will return to work in September! The journey ... my friends ... is coming to an end.

My holiday was ... incredible. What a spectacular country we live in. For those of you out there that have never travelled through the Rockies ... highly recommended. Conor and Ciaran did quite well without me ... and met my three criteria for a happy return ... the pool was blue .. the flowers weren't dead ... and Joey was alive! Reasonable expectations...tremendous result.

The farewell . . .
When I started this 8 months ago ... it was a vehicle for communicating to friends and family updates on Conor's condition. When I started this, Conor was in a coma ... his body shattered ... every breath, every heartbeat monitored. When I started this, I was numb (the body and soul protecting itself) and unaware of what I had created when I started this blog and how it would take on a life of its own. It became for me much more than a forum for communicating Conor's ever improving condition ... it became cathartic and therapeutic and comfortable ... like an old blanket. I wrapped myself in this blog. And now, my dear friends, it is time to shed the blanket ... and it is hard.

Over the months, a diverse group of people have visited this site. People from all over the world (Canada, Ireland, England, China, Australia, US, South Africa) have logged in to read the latest update. People I work with, people Conor works with, family members, friends (internet and real world), friends of friends, doctors offices, dentists offices, prime minister's offices, have all been connected by this site. It is incredible, really, when you think about it. We were all linked -- despite being separated by time and distance -- by our shared hope for Conor's recovery. Surreal!

As the months passed, the tone of the blog changed. It became less dramatic, less urgent. It allowed me the opportunity to vent ... to wax philosophical ... to pour out my soul to all of you. I have caught up with a lot of you in person. You comment on how open and unguarded the blog was ... that my dear friends ... was the numbness receding. I feel a little embarrassed at how much of me I revealed in cyberspace. But I don't regret one single word I wrote. When I can, I like to go back to the very early posts. My God ... it was like reading a script to a movie of the week. These kinds of things don't happen to real people ... but we all know ... they do. This blog has allowed me to connect with all of you ... we have cried together, and prayed together, and hoped together. I did not face this alone ... and this blog made that very clear to me.

The gratitude I feel ... really ... cannot be expressed. The acts of raw kindness have touched me in ways I cannot put words to. The gift of your prayers ... your positive thoughts ... is a gift that cannot be reciprocated in this life time. The debt I owe ... I will have to take with me to the grave. But if there's a tally kept by the Man Upstairs ... rest assured that you're all in the black. I am humbled by your generosity, and am brought to tears whenever I think of just what you all have meant to me. From the bottom of my heart ... I thank you. You have made such a difference in my life, and in the lives of my sons. We three ... are whole ... and healing ... and on the path to full recovery.

In order for me to do this with some semblance of dignity ... I must convince myself that this is not good-bye. I must console myself with the reassurance that you are all real people and in my life outside of this blog. It is difficult to let the blog go ... but let it go I must ... A Record of Conor's Recovery ... let the last line be written. Conor is recovered ... and his journey through life will continue.

To those of you separated from me by great distance ... my email is rose-lacey@rogers.com. I will welcome your communication. Again .. for all your individual acts of kindness ... I thank you. You have been involved in a miracle ... and you should be extremely proud of the contribution you have made to the recovery of not only Conor ... but of three .... extremely grateful people. Till we are able to meet again .... I hold you all in my heart ... God bless you all