The Second Annual Tim Morris "Let's Get You Walking Again" Charity Golf Tournament

Plausawa Valley Country Club on Thursday, July 29th, 2010.

In Pembroke, NH (just outside of Concord) with a shotgun start at 9:00 a.m. for golfers, and about a 1:30 lunch (chicken, ribs, salad and more) for all. $125/golfer, or $30/lunch only. Golfers will receive 18 holes of golf, cart rental, and lunch.

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January 14, 2010
There's no excuse for the long delay..I just couldn't bring myself to try to squeeze out enough information to create entries every couple of weeks when I really didn't have that much to talk about. My apologies. But now, I have much more to write about.

First, I need to go all the way back to August and thank everyone publicly for their donations, their time, and their effort in making the golf tournament get off the ground and running so smoothly. It was a total success for the first year we've put it together. I appreciate it to no end. It was a great day, and a huge help to my efforts in pursuing my goals and dreams. A sincere thank you, everyone.

I'll use that as a springboard into the work I've been doing since. I literally treat it like my life depends on it, and that's a double-edged sword. That's partly why I haven't written in so long; because I was putting so much pressure on myself to produce results, and the results really aren't anything that I can control beyond giving and doing everything 100%. So even though I've made progress, visually and functionally, I did have two periods of deep, deep occurances in 'the tank'. Fortunately, the worst lasted just four or five days, which does seem like a lifetime when you're going through it; but I understood that it's just my present emotion, and the feeling will change. Over the last few months my outlook on this situation has shifted a little bit because of the emotional struggle I've gone through. I know what I'm working with in regards to my body: the damage was plentiful, severe, and I haven't been blessed with the function of a lot of people in my position. However, my advantage: I do have the focus, drive, and perpetual motivation that it's going to take to succeed. And by pressing on and staying positive, there isn't a doubt in my mind that I will succeed. Neither does my pops, who often gets to see me crawl around in our basement!

I use crawl loosely, as it wouldn't look like, say, a baby trying to learn to crawl. It is ugly, it is hard, and it's full of strain to move just a few inches. I can move my left leg forwards and backwards inches at a time, meaning I do have at least mininal use of my hip flexor and glute (butt) with that leg. The right leg, not so much. However, even just recently, I've begun to use my minimal yet growing core strength to get some movement to help my right leg along, which clearly has weaker hip flexion and minimal glute strength. Crawling isn't just hips though, but balance and core strength as well, like I just mentioned. My back has a good amount of strength, obvious while doing back extensions at Jofo by literally lifting all 110+ pounds of Lisa up as she tried to apply resistance for me to work against. The problem is though, that the strength doesn't quite translate to function. I'm not yet able to lean over and sit back up using just my back and abs, but I have to use my arms as well. Not good, and very frustrating. My abs are also very weak still. I can flex them somewhat, and that is increasing SLOWLY. It's like watching paint dry..maddeningly slow process. This is noticeable when I stand, as I have a huge arch in my back, because my back and abs aren't up to par..yet. As bad as I make it sound, I'm working on it, and they are slowly getting there.

That said, taking steps has been encouraging, as use of my hip flexors is a little positional right now. Everyone tells me that the first few steps to the first few minutes are essentially all me as I try to pull each leg forward. The leg lockouts are also there as I step down and follow through a natural gate pattern on a treadmill. In regards to this lockout, I've been able to hold a standing position without anyone holding my knees in place for just over two minutes. So all the pieces are there, minus my anterior tibs (shin muscles), slight hamstrings, and ankles. Still, the major things needed to take functional steps have all presented themselves at one point or another. I just need them to all present simultaneously, and to obviously stick around for more than a few steps at a time.

So putting this all together, I've come to a realization: without core strength, I'm going nowhere (slowly). So I've shifted my focus (while working on my own) from total body with a focus on really trying to work hip flexion, to simply pounding my core. I just stress any work I can do to my abs and lower back. When I'm done, I'm sore as anything and that allows me to sleep soundly knowing I've put my focused attention into what I need to take the next 'step'. I feel like I know that my body will regain full function one area at a time, working its' way down (abs/back to hips, hips to glutes, glutes to quads/hams, etc.).

Further, I've almost totally stopped putting anything that's not natural into my body, so it can heal to its' best ability. This has helped both my physical and emotional sharpness. Hardly a drink (haven't had more than one at any point in almost six months), and I've actually stopped drinking iced coffee all together (Ugh..I was an addict. Chris wrote about this while I was still in a coma!). I've noticed that it was more of a placibo effect on my workouts, at least in regards to my nervous system reaction. After some time, I just didn't really respond anymore. My legs are still acting similar now as they did when I used caffiene to excite my body.

I have to thank the great chiropractor I've been seeing, Dr. Dan Parent in Londonderry NH. He has really helped me hit another level physically and sharpen myself mentally. I've been reading information he's supplied me with in regards to the damage caffiene can have on your body, and how it can actually prevent my body from healing the way I need it to.

I had the wrong impression of chiropractors, as just bone-movers as I believed they were. But Dan is actually much more neurological than I could have ever imagined. He creates room around and releaves pressure on my spinal cord with the adjustments, and actually uses biofeedback on a monthly basis that can put onto paper the progress my nervous system has made over the five months I've been getting chiropractic done. My body is beginning to balance out in terms of natural tone and tightness of my core muscles, and I can see and feel the difference in my workouts.

I would recommend Dan, or a good chiropractor, to anyone (off topic, but useful for anyone reading this: I haven't had a cold since I've been going to see Dan. One day I went in and had a runny nose, told him while I was recieving my adjustment, and he was able to releave pressure on my sinal nerve clearing me up instantly. I was pretty good the rest of the day - slight return - but it was completely gone the next day.). I've also noticed a slight return of feeling down through my hips, legs, and feet.

Again, a HUGE thank you to anyone that donated to help keep me going on this long and mentally painful journey towards recovery. With your help, it's going to happen. And I apologize for the delay and rather scattered post! So much to say here,

June 25, 2009
Two posts in the same week! This will never happen again, ha. And neither will the grammar and spelling mistakes I made in this last post...terrible. I think I left out some information on the progress, and standing here in my standing frame tonight trying to stay out of a little self-made rut that I mentioned, I might as well talk about it. There isn't a ton going on (I can't move anything on my own yet), but let me explain the "building blocks", and what I left out of the last post.

What I'm experiencing through my lower half, from about the belly button down, is increased tingling, like pins and needles. It's varied in intensity, however is very intense now, basically all the time. Sometimes, and for about all of last week, I get some pretty strong nerve pain. It happens quite a bit while standing with just a walker, trying to support myself as little as possible with my arms. I concentrate on driving through my feet, squeezing my quads and my glutes (my butt). One night it was pretty bad, and didn't allow me to fall asleep for an additional two hours. So I laid there just squeezing my quads, my abs, and trying to move my toes. Like I said, I'm not moving them, and nothing is totally functional, but I am able to get a slight contraction through my abs. I'm also able to get my legs to spasm, like I've said before. I can lay there trying to move my toes for a while, and my foot will kick. So obviously, signals are getting through. Unfortunately, making my leg or foot jump after five minutes of trying to move them is a long way from coordinated walking.

So with that, I try to not look to far down the road, and just take it day by day. The good thing is, each day feels better and better (whatever that means), and I truly don't understand why I'm not able to extend my leg or lift it up. I will, however, have to work out the tightness in my legs. My quads and hamstrings are so strong (yet not functional) that the tone that is created is almost too difficult for someone to break the strong contraction with their hands. When my muscles are excited (through external stimulation or staying static, say overnight), they tighten up and flex. Even if I were to regain control or some function, the spasms and tone would prevent me from being able to use them (I'd lock up, or straighten out like a board...). A goal then would be to break down the tone and spasms, yet that strength allows me to get some pushing on the total gym and to be able to lock my knees on my own while standing. So it's a double-edged sword; I'm more functional on the surface with it, but it's a detriment to me.

I've had a couple more pieces of progress that I didn't really explain: I've done a better job of being able to stay up on my hips lately, tone or no tone, without rolling back like a typical parapeligic who "sacral sits" (slightly rounded in back, with no strength in the hip area). When we returned from Miami, I was actually at one point able to sit up completely straight without holding anything. I haven't been able to do it many times since, but it felt great and relieved a ton of pressure off my back. I've also been able to get some good pushes on the total gym, serious inclined leg presses. Unfortunately, they have been few and far between, but haven't been present in the past. I'll take it. What's so frustrating to both Johnny and I while doing squats and such at JoFo, is that I can feel my legs trying to work, and he can feel the muscle trying to fire. This is where optimism is key, because we know it's there, but we just don't know when it's going to happen.

I try to stay optimistic, always. I'm hard on myself, and some people take that as me getting down or putting myself in the tank. But I just expect more, and it's aggrevating when it doesn't happen. Literally months and months on end though, it gets very frustrating. Gotta stay with it.

June 22, 2009
I want to take the opportunity with this post to do two things: 1. explain updates of progress, and 2. send a sincere thank you. I'll start with the thank you. That includes you, if you're reading this. I know in the past I had the ambition to write a post weekly, but things really don't happen often enough to have something substantial worth writing about. Great things may not even happen each month, but I think I'm able to pull enough reflection and progress to make a solid post. Anyway, beyond just reading the blog, I have extremely amazing people in my life that I'm very fortunate and thankful for.

I have incredible parents, who are both willing and able in their own ways to help me succeed in this journey. Unfortunately, I'm at a spot in my life where I'm 28 and living at home. But fortunately, I have the opportunity to live at home. I also have a father that is all heart and allows me to take advantage of this and thrive with what WE are trying to accomplish. He also works with me, using what we learned in Miami on a nightly basis to help me strengthen the connections to the dysfunctional nervous system that sits below my chest. He is my partner in crime. We experience extremely limited but marginal successes often, and I'll get to that in a bit. He is motivating enough, with the language he uses while we work, and knowing how I like/need to be talked to (barked at) while working out. His perspectives are always focused on the ultimate goal, but he certainly loves the stepping stones along the way. That motivates me, and I appreciate the relationship that we have. I couldn't ask for a better father. And his real world connections go without the need to be discussed, and are truly appreciated.

My mother is also all heart, to say the least. She would, literally, do anything to help me succeed in this horrible journey. She constantly rearranges her schedule to help me out (getting in and out of the car, and putting the chair together in the rain..sucks) if driving is too inconvenient for me to do for myself due to circumstances, and is always there to provide a motivation pep-talk when I'm down on myself. On a side note: this being such a long, drawn-out process, and mental game that I'm in; where I spend hours and hours throughout the day, let alone the week, talking to and working myself as hard as I can, it's extremely easy to cloud the focus of the goal, and get down on myself. Especially being ultra-competitive, I expect the work I do to show up immediately, and that's certainly not the case. However, my ma has become a go-to person for finding ways out of the mental games I play with myself. I truly enjoy listening to her point of view, especially when I desperately need it. This must be acknowledged as being as instrumental as anything physical.

So to both of you, thank you a million times over. I would never walk again without either one of you.

That's the cake, but not the icing. I also want to take the opportunity to thank the Sullivan Tire community (Norwood/W. Bridgewater, I'm looking at you) for always asking about my welfare, and continuously staying with this website. The same can be said for friends and family of both sides of my family. Simply put..amazing. People that ask about how I'm doing, people that are willing to donate even just a bit, people that are willing to donate their time to help this first annual golf tournament get up and running smoothly (Ray, Ned, and Sheila)..everyone simply amazes my family, and most especially, me. Thank you.

I also need to express my gratitude for my friends. Not only are they always there for me, and would help me with anything I need, but they constantly are helping to pull together fundraisers and bringing awareness to particular dates and activities. Austin (the Mayor of Quinnipiac), Massie, Marcel, and my new sisters Kelly and Lisa (who ran the Boston Marathon with me as her charity), to name a few, are always the ones to step forward and present new ideas and put in effort, which are all necessary in raising funds to beat this injury. Austin just helped me in a big way by organizing a pub crawl for a huge group of our friends, which helped raise enough for about three weeks at JoFo. I don't spend a dime on anything but services and equipment..and money is still always a factor. What an expensive injury to recovery from. These people, all considered family to not only me but my real immediates; I don't know how to thank you. I guess only to walk again. It's coming. So that's a good segway into the progress..

It's been a good month, with nothing extremely substantial to report. But the building blocks are there! I just need to keep my head in the game and keep up the fight. I say it often, like I'm a broken record my pops may/may not be sick of hearing, but I am surprised that I can't pick my legs up yet (while sitting in the chair). In reality, it is a big lift, as each leg may way 40 lbs., but that's just how good my hip flexors feel, internally. Just recently, my pops and I have been working on the connections to the hip ffexors, and he'll leg go of his hold on my leg because he thinks I'll be able to lift it. We're not quite there yet, but clearly, it's on it's way. I can say the same for not being able to contract my quads. We've finished our work, and I'll be sitting there and my quads will be spasming, like I just finished doing squats or going for a long run. The fact that the work is creating the spasms is a great sign! Every muscle below my chest feels excellent, and it will just take some time and effort to make these connections strong enough to work.

I'm also experiencing increased sensation. I think the best way to describe most of what I'm able to feel from around my belly button down, is like if you were wearing five sweaters, or a several pairs of pants, or a bunch of socks, and then touched areas on your body. The feeling isn't very specific, but with pressure that's hard enough, you know something is going on there. The same can be said for my proprioception (body awareness in space, i.e. when I move my leg..I know where it is). Both forms of sensation are slowly returning, which is great. For over a year, really, I didn't have any of this.

I don't know how many times I've written it, but the building blocks are there, I just need the glue, or the cement, or in this case the nervous connection, to put them together. When that happens, I'm confident we'll hit the ground running, figuratively (still holding out hope for that in the literal sense).

Another quick thanks to those that have signed up to play golf and/or are planning to attend lunch and golf at the golf tournament. Massie has helped set up a link (thanks, as always) to sign up on this site, and we are always looking for contributions through way of donations or gifts that can be raffled off, bid on, or goods that may be helpful during the lunch and ceremony. For any needs or concerns, either my father (the main man for helping me out with this) or I can be contacted at bob.morris@sullivantire.com or tmorris381@yahoo.com. The Tax ID# is on the flier for those that need it, which is located on the site as a .pdf file. Please extend invitations to anyone that may have interest in golfing or coming for lunch. This will most likely be the largest and best opportunity I will have to raise funds to support therapy each year, although I'd like to believe it won't be for much longer. I truly, truly appreciate every ones continued love and support. I would never walk again without it. Please don't take my sincerity lightly.

May 12, 2009
sorry about the capitalization and punctuation in this post. it's going to be rather long, and rather exciting (for me, anyways), so i'm putting it all out how i'd normally type. my pops and i recently got back from a trip down to the brucker biofeedback center in miami. the experience was exceptional; totally worthwhile. i didn't know what to fully expect, as i've heard from a few people and through my own research, that it's a positive experience and a good strength builder, but 'it's just different'. what the hell does that mean? i've heard to not expect to walk out of there if you're not already, but it definitely helps. exactly the case, in my opinion and experience.

i believe that the only return i've had without the all the work would have been some weak lateral wiggle in my mid-to-lower back. the work i've been putting in at home and at jofo was definitely made clear to me down in miami, as i was told in my final evaluation that i exhibit good signals throughout most of my muscles and down to my anterior tibs (shins). essentially, signals everywhere i would need to walk again. thus, in their opinion, i'm 'very incomplete' and fully capable of walking again, as long as i put in the undetermined amount of work. when i heard this, the clouds cleared and birds started chirping - a great day emotionally! i attribute so much of this, and the strength demonstrated during my biofeedback therapy, to my hard damn work at jofo with john, and at home. i kick my own ass day in and out, and thankfully it showed in my results.

how biofeedback works - we began attaching electrodes at different levels on your back, two vertebrae at a time (t4-6, t6-8, etc), and subsequently to each muscle group below the injury (not all at the same time). then you begin to move around, looking for the strongest signal and muscle contraction at each level. when i found it, i squeezed the hell out of it. this makes the experience emotionally and physically draining. i'd leave and my voice would completely change - i would roll out totally spent. it was great.. we did back for four days, and i found that through t6-8, the signal was stronger than needed for full function, and began to decrease from there, down to l4 (lowest level they test), where i entered with about 10% strength necessary for normal function. after the four days of back, and finding how to squeeze the hell out of each level and signal, i left with about 35% strength. a great gain, in my opinion.

although every level wasn't as great as this, i did create improved signals to each muscle group, even if it was only between starting with 0-1% signal, and reaching 4-5%. the absolute most devastating day was the friday of the first week. we had completed back, and with the signals i exhibited, jenny and nedgyienne, my therapist and assistant, thought abs would show the same results. not so. complete zeros, flat lines on the screen that read like an ekg measuring contraction. i probably didn't speak for an hour or two after we left, almost in tears. tears until i opened up, and we began talking about it. my dad (the greatest guy i've ever met by the way..) tries to be my optimist when i'm down, and does a great job of this most of the time, witnessed that the way we were testing isn't how i'd normally work abs at home. very true, and we talked about how to change things. then i made some recommendations on monday, and we began seeing the signals again. a major relief, as i've been able to sit up from an almost flat table. this requires abs! and i can feel them contracting, so we know that it happens. we just made some adjustments and moved on, breathing a sigh of relief. i also exhibited good response from my quads and glutes while free-standing with a walker (and help blocking knees). and as long as i take what we learned from biofeedback and the therapy and work it hard when you return home, i shouldn't lose the signals, and only help myself create a stronger signal and in turn strengthen my functional muscle recovery. using this info, i've created a workout schedule for home, ratcheting up my intesity some more.

at the center, i met and talked quite a bit with mike utley, the former detriot lion that broke his neck in a game 17 years ago. after 16ish years of biofeedback, and through his own work, he functions exceptionally well. my jaw dropped when we were discussing him and i was told he was a quad. he and his wife danni were amazing to talk with: very informative, interesting, and interested in me. he saw a lot of his work ethic in me, and for me, it was truly an honor to meet the two of them.

i've been fully focused on recovery since returning, thus why it's been a while for a post. i also try to let the high's settle before i get it out to the public, but the highs continued for several weeks. the first day back to jofo, my ma and i were driving down and i leaned to tie my shoes and sat back up, without using my hands to help. it was unbelieveable! i've also been able to sit up completely straight, without falling back on my hips (so called 'sacral sitting') with my upperbody in a c-curve. this hasn't continued, however i have done it multiple times. it's great to finally relieve the back pressure and pain from not having the c-curve present. things have just been getting stronger. incredible.

as to the trip, i want to thank lynne and chris, two of my mom's friends living down in florida. we stopped for lunch or dinner each way and they were so welcoming and great, and want them to publicly know i really appreciate everything they did for me, and for us. thank you! lynne also allowed us to use her sun pass (like the new england ez pass). this saved us a ton of time with the travels, as florida is full of toll booths! again, a public thank you so much! we also did quite a bit of traveling around, going down to see key west; fort lauderdale, palm beach gardens and palm beach (where both lynne and chris live and my aunt pam and uncle donald were staying for a week while we were there, respectively). and of course exploring miami, a city i fell in love with (in so many ways)!

in its' entirety, the trip was phenominal. i will make it down there yearly to improve my functionality, even when i'm back up walking. as i've said before, this will never be over, but i'm in it for the long haul. i'll never give up the fight, and this experience reassured why.

March 24, 2009
From Tim's Mom...

Observing Tim at Journey Forward is incredible, he is doing amazing: very intense, very focused hard work at recovering his body... His balance is improving in an amazing way. When he kneels and does cross movements with the balls and equipment you really can see how far he's come from his first days there. His balance is incredibly stronger than it was a year ago, as he's gone from looking like a "wet noodle" to just like he's lost his balance. Workouts on the Total Gym are better and better as he's very close to getting pushes upwards on his own. Workouts on the mats and crawling are beyond what anyone told me would or could happen. Watching him on the bike, you can see the muscle mass returning in his thighs and even his calves are starting to grow back. His joints are starting to cooperate more and more; Involuntary spasms are starting to turn into voluntary movements, specifically in his lower back. Up on the elliptical to train his gate, sensation is returning throughout his lower half (can you believe this)... The good news is he feels; the bad news is he feels. He has aches all over: his back, his quads ("first sensation, then function"), and even some in his left foot the other day (the furthest point away from the injury site). It is a slow, methodical process, but he really is The Ironman... all of this this has been the answer to our prayers but it would not have happened if Tim was not committed to making this happen for himself and the workouts at Journey Forward. Tim's progress is undeniable, it has been 15 months of training and worth every minute of it... He's going to do it, he's going to make his happen...

From Tim -

Wow, I'd really like to thank my ma for such a nicely written description of what she caught in the day she stayed at Jofo for an entire workout. It had been months for her, so nice to hear an outsider's point of view. I'd also like to thank several of my friends and family that are helping me raise awareness to the great things that we are improving upon on a daily basis (I say "we" because I could never do this alone): Ma, Pops, Eileen, Eric, Chris and Ned helping me crawl and the setup of the soon-to-be mentioned golf tournament, Harper providing me with the inspiration, Austin, Massie, Kelly Y. and Lisa (Lisa's running the Boston Marathon!) raising awareness and donations to help me get by this through various fundraising efforts. All of you mean the world to me. This is a long process, as has been mentioned a thousand times, but not possible without all of you. Thank you.

The golf tournament: Unfortunately, Dustin Pedroia, Jon Lester, Jim Rice and Derek Sanderson won't be at this one. I don't quite have the cache that Bobby and Paul Sullivan do. However, Pops and Ned aren't too shabby! This will be a super event with amazing people. And all are welcome, even if it's just for dinner and prizes. The details (with more to soon be released, as well as directions, etc. Forgive me if this isn't as much info as you'd like, I'm not big into self-promotion..I'll have my father fill in the gap's soon):

The First Annual Tim Morris "Let's Get You Walking Again" Charity Golf Tournament

Plausawa Valley Country Club on Wednesday,
July 29th, 2009.

In Pembroke, NH (just outside of Concord) with a shotgun start at 9:00 a.m. for golfers, and about a 1:30 lunch (chicken, ribs, and salad) for all. $125/golfer, or $30/lunch only. Golfers will receive 18 holes of golf, cart rental, and lunch.

February 9, 2009
Happily, the best update I have to date: I waited just over a week to write it to temper the highs.

Progress seems to come in waves, and fortunately, the waves happen every month, roughly. MUCH quicker than most, although I'm secure in the fact that "most" don't work anywhere near this hard. Seems to be two weeks of "making moves", as I like to say, and then several weeks of status quo. Two weeks ago, we got on the treadmill to take some assisted steps, Johnny on my left leg, Mike on the right, as usual. We get the treadmill going, Mike helps with his step, grabbing my hamstring and the top of my foot, to complete the move. John next, with a "whoa" as we step. Mike again, and then back to John. But John just lets me go, and I bring my leg forward on my own, dragging it forward 4-6 inches! My first VERY gimpy step. It involved a ton of toe drag, as I don't have any anterior tib (tibialis anterior), or shin muscle. When I drag, it excites my quad, so my leg locks in place, almost like Michael Jackson standing up on his toes. At that point, I needed help getting it back to a point where I can go heal to toe stepping again.

Excuse me, but I was pretty f'ing impressed! I've had no hip flexors, and finally worked into enough to help with a step. I was able to help with three or four steps (all on the left), then lost it. Last week, we did it again, and I was able to pull more with my left, and even a few with my right. Hello, right hip flexor...I've missed you. I'm very excited, but my eyes are still on the prize. These have been VERY gimpy steps. Steps that last 3 or 6 attempts, then die off. I am still very far off from functional steps, even with a regular walker. But, I'm on my way. I'm still not able to hold myself up, instead using a walker with higher armrests to hold myself up. I need to get to a point where I can stand on my own, it's imperative. Nor can I lift my leg, say, as I'm sitting in the chair. That would require lifting the weight of my entire leg, and they (hip flexors) aren't nearly that strong.

But the bit of ability through my hips has leads to more variety I'm able to do at home. And, I must say, my family is absolutely amazing. They believe in me, and feel this is a group effort. And they all take it serious. Beyond the rides to Jofo, since I've found some weak hip flexion, we have started crawling at the house on off days from JoFo. It takes two to help out, as I don't have much hip control, and they've taken turns when available to assist in the activity. The best part is their ability to see and feel the progress, as I require less help moving my leg forward with each move on the floor. They also get that the more often we work on this type of stuff, the further I progress. My ma is willing to come over whenever to help out, and loves it. So do Eileen, Eric, and my pops. This family is so incredible. I'm typically on the floor Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. This allows me to get the nervous system involved without killing it too much for the next day. Just tonight (Sunday), my pops, Eileen and I were in the basement crawling and we're noticing I'm able to keep better balance, requiring less help so I'm not falling with weight shifting left and right. These are all really small, really monumental things that add up over time. As crawling strengthens the hip flexion, the stability helps my hip control, eventually needed for standing.

January, 11 2009
Snowy Sunday - can't get out to Dunkin Donuts to go get a coffee, so might as well write an update. It's been a good week or two, and I've been working to strengthen my lower back. Interesting as it is, It works well contracting laterally, but it's still week going front to back, like while doing a back extension. The movements are still difficult, but I'll get there.

The best news of the last week or so is that I'm beginning (I stress beginning, because my attempts are still weak) to activate my leg and hip-flexor spasms when I think about them. I do so in the most basic environment, laying in bed and nothing on top of me. I began to do it laying on my side, and while squeezing and concentrating I can feel my body wind up and ready to create movement. A good way to imagine the feeling is think about it as stretching out a rubber band until it gets tight and full of potential energy. Originally, this took about 30 seconds or so of hard concentration and squeezing to get this to happen, and then I could get my leg to "pop" up, hip-flexor jumping and quad firing. Immediately I called Chris (Morris) at work, because I had no one else to tell at 12:15 at night. I couldn't do it again, although I could feel my body winding up. Then two nights later I was able to do it laying on my back, which is a bit more difficult because I'd have to fight the friction from the bed and sheets resisting my feet from moving. I was able to make the legs pop up a few times, and also get it to spasm in place multiple times. When I felt the action potential building up, but the legs not going anywhere, I placed my hand on my stomach and help create some movement (with just a bit of external manipulation...a simple touch). This is a small but monumental step, in my opinion, as I'm trying to strengthen that connection through or around the injury site. As I continue to build and work on this, the spasm will become easier to ignite and the legs easier to move, eventually leading to conscious movement and steps. The reaction is the same for anyone when I tell them about what's happening: "I can't wait for you to get to Miami!" My initial thought as well, along with awe and determination.

But the further I progress physically until Miami happens, the more I believe I will recover when I get there. I'm so excited and focused, it's tough to put it in words. Yes, a spasm is a long, long way from functional steps, but it's pretty damn good for a "complete" spinal cord injury that shouldn't even be able to rebuild muscle below the injury, never-mind make my legs spasm and put 25 pounds of muscle back on them.

December 23, 2008
Sorry, my apologies for the long delay in time between posts. I have a difficult time letting people know that absolutely nothing is going on, nothing is happening. It's also difficult to write for me, because I spend SO much time working on trying to improve, and when I don't see or feel the improvements, it causes some emotional distress. So speaking of emotional distress, what I have spent a lot of my time doing was essentially trying to become a more complete, better person. The first thing I had to work on was subtracting anything that was causing negativity to me in my life. This was difficult, because I had to say goodbye to people that mean a lot to me, but were effecting me too much on a daily basis (with or without their knowledge) while I'm trying to focus on recovery. This was difficult, but it has worked. I have begun to see improvements again. During this time, I had also taken a week "break" from working out. Anyone who knows me, well, this is more than extremely difficult. I haven't taken an entire week off since freshman year of college, but I was emotionally and physically drained. As Chris (Massie) would put it, I'm sure if I had regular sensation in my legs, they would've been pretty worked by now, 10 months deep into JoFo. So reluctantly, I did so, although I knew I would benefit because I "red line", pushing myself so hard on a daily basis. When I got back to JoFo, I noticed I had regressed slightly physically, but also came back mentally clear and focused. Looking back, it was the best thing I could have done, and should have done once or twice previously. I have also tried to become more spiritual, finding strength and promise through faith. It has been a benefit...

I've also scheduled a time to go down to Miami to receive something called Biofeedback. Biofeedback shows you what signals are being sent to the muscles below the injury and and over the course of the treatment time (two weeks), we work on strengthening those signals or figure out other ways to use them. I've heard good things from people, so hope that I find great results. Because as I've said, if I squeeze a muscle I can feel it, but it just doesn't move. It's like I'm in a body cast. This is scheduled the first two weeks in April, perfect timing for another break from working out. It won't be a bad time to go to Miami either! Get away from this snow for a bit... My pops and I should enjoy the trip together, and I definitely appreciate someone coming with me.

As far as physical results, they're reappearing. My holds on the total gym are improving still, and I've also experienced my first actually push. It was only about 2-3 inches, but it was a push. I also haven't done it since, but I'm told that's par for the course, and that at first, they will come and go. My legs are getting stronger though, and so is standing strength. My left leg is pretty good, and when I'm standing and it lets go, it quickly can re-find itself and lock out again. My right leg is getting better, albeit much more slowly. I work so hard, both at JoFo and at home, on improving my hip control. I don't know where they are. Some days they're good, some bad. But when I can control my hips, it will go a long way in being able to stand and balance. This nervous system is a tricky thing, and I'm doing everything I can do to give mine the best opportunity to heal. I stand up to 70 hours a week..just stand. Awful. But if it gets me one centimeter closer, it will be all worth it. I go to JoFo for 6 hours a week, and then on those three days and Saturdays, I get downstairs and work on the table (hip control) and do upper-body on the equipment we have here. Then I spend the rest of those days or nights using my e-stim machine on different muscle groups around my body.

This past week, it was just John, Brett and I at JoFo, and Johnny and I were working on the total gym. He was excited as he was telling me my legs were "right there", ready to push, that they wanted to go. The way he explained it to me was that it reminded him of how we used to be when trying to get these holds on the TG. For a while it wasn't happening, but he could feel my quads trying to react, supplying resistance from me just falling down the TG sled. Now, the holds are strong, and he can feel the same thing from my legs when telling me to try and push up. He feels the muscle try and fire, but it doesn't catch. This, however, is how he knew it was going to happen, because he could feel it. Well, he can feel my trying to push my body back up. It's going to happen, it's just taking time.

I've also noticed that I'm regaining my lower back. Much like my obliques, my lower back has reappeared, but it's very weak. However, function is slowly working its way down. Just the other night, I was using my electrical stimulation machine on my stomach muscles (to rebuild and strengthen) and it was causing my hip-flexors to jump some. My hip-flexors have been dead, so this was new. And I will take any new activity and run with it...

Working so hard and seeing results sparingly is what gets difficult. This is where I just try to get rid of any negativity I have and just push through it. I'm fortunate to have this opportunity with the help of so many people, and it's my job to work at this, and essentially change the way people view spinal cord injuries. Not only can I see slow, incremental progress often enough to keep pushing, but I also owe it to everyone that's offered a helping hand, financial support, read this blog, and been by my side. These are the reasons that I keep on keeping on. So thank you for reading this right now. It means the world to me.

When this whole awful experience has subsided (even though I'm on my feet, a spinal cord injury goes far, far beyond the wheelchair), and I'm back on my feet, every single step I take will belong to someone. I appreciate everything, and there isn't a thing I have in my life that is taken for granted. I'm truly a very, very fortunate person.

I'm sure I've missed some things that I wanted to write about in this post, so when I think of them, I'll send them over to Massie to add an update to this post...

From Tim's dad, Oct. 15, 2008

Here it is, Columbus Day week. Ten more weeks until the New Year. The holidays are just around the corner. It's time to start thinking about Christmas presents, holiday parties, and family. Today, I’m not into Christmas, more into the spirit of Thanksgiving. There are things to be grateful for, like special days! Today was of those days. I’m grateful . . . and excited . . . and hopeful . . . and many more things. Today is about
the future, about Tim’s future. More specifically, about Tim’s future without a wheelchair being his only means of transportation. I'm not talking about his vehicle. Tim is now the proud owner of a Camry and is certified to drive it. The gas and brake pedals are being converted to hand controls next week. That will mean more independence for Tim. He deserves it. Believe me, he deserves it! Nobody is working harder than Tim. He does Journey Forward. That's two hours of intense therapy three times a week. Tim works hard there. He’s focused, he’s driven, he wants to walk. Tim believes in exercised-based therapy. He trusts his therapists. It is intense, it's hard work. When he's done there, he's not done working out. Tim goes home and gets in his standing frame for hours. I'm talking six, eight hours! A standing frame allows Tim to create weight-bearing muscle. He works on his balance and strengthening his core. By himself . . . for hours. He lives to stand, to walk. We all want him to get there, everyone who knows him, and even many who don't. The people who have contributed to his medical fund, the people who have prayed for him - we all feel Tim's strength, his desire, his ambition. He's in the standing frame until his ankles swell. Why? One reason: He wants to walk, to take control of his life again. And it's paying off, mostly in small victories. Tim builds on them. He stays upbeat, he works harder. But back to today: Why am I so grateful today? I picked Tim up at Journey Forward today. I knew he was getting on the spin bike at the end of his workout. A stationary bike, a standard piece of exercise equipment. He's been pedaling it for a couple of weeks. The therapists would get him going and Tim would sustain the motion. He's told me about it, but I wanted to see for myself, see Tim in control - to some degree - of his legs. Today, John and Lisa put Tim on the bike. They strapped his feet to the pedals and told Tim to go, to start pedaling by himself . . . AND HE DID!!! This is huge! I'm so grateful I was there to see it. This was not maintaining motion, this was Tim focusing on the muscles needed to pedal the bike. Focusing on the motion, making his legs do it. By himself. Watching him, knowing how hard he's worked for this improvement, I am so proud of him. I know if he can do this, he will walk. It's just a matter of time.

September 30, 2008
Let me get straight to the point with the best progress since being stabilized in the hospital: I pedaled a spin bike.

It wasn't fast (it wasn't even slow...it was slower than really slow), and it wasn't done well. But it was. That's what really matters. From last Friday to this past Friday, I hit the highest points in my recovery process to date. I'll start with last Friday: good days need to be considered good even with incremental improvements. For an actual push to occur on the Total Gym (picture the Chuck Norris TG, only with a foot plate), the guys at Jofo have found that a client needs to be able to pause at all leg positions on the way down to a right, 90 degree angle. By Wednesday of last week, I was stuck with a slight 20ish degree hold. Ok...but I had been stuck there for a bit. On Friday, I considered it a good day because I got down to about 30 degrees. Good! Mondays always suck, er, are less than good, but I proceeded to stick out 45ish degree holds. Alright! Wednesday, I was working with Mike, and he had me up on my knees, and there was absolutely no sacral sitting (weak hips to cause me to sit with a C-curve in my back, as I've talked about before). I can't discuss how pumped I was! My best day yet, as my spine and weak back were straight and upright as could be...already considering this my best day with the accomplishment! I continued to work on other exercises, and with the last 15 minutes John and I hopped over to a spin bike. At this point, my body is completely broken down, so I never expect much. I always stay focused on the mind-body connection. He worked on helping to push my knees as I worked, HARD, to push. I said to him that I've never physically worked so hard to do nothing (something I've said countless times), and he actually got mad, haha. He then made me see what it was like without pedaling and again trying to pedal. It went two or three rotations further. On the next attempt he gave me a couple of rotations help, and then let me go on my own. I knew after a minute or so it wasn't momentum because it was moving consistantly sooooo slow that momentum was out of the equation. I was sweating. I was dripping. I was flush red. I was busting my butt. I was in the zone. But I was pedaling. My mother got to see the final two or three minutes of my four minute ride, and we both broke down for a minute in happiness when we got to the car. I called Chris, and she broke down too. The whole experience was amazing and motivational. It was the first functional movement in my legs in 14 months. I was on a realistic cloud 9, knowing I still have 25 miles to go in this marathon...

I couldn't ask for anything else to go well this week, but Friday brought with it 80-90 degree holds. I was/am pumped. I've got a ways to go, but I am staying focused and on my game. I think a lot of the progress has to do with my dedication to standing in the frame. It promotes weight bearing and muscle memory/tightness, and some days I'll spend 7-9 hours in the frame. It's boring, but I keep thinking about the ultimate goal. The goal I'm still far from, but will allow a short window to appreciate the small, important steps I'm making.

September 15, 2008
This is far too late in delivery, and I'm very sorry. I have many thanks and some progress to report. I've been putting this off for a bit because my spacebar doesn't work. These three sentences took about five minutes to type...

I need to say thank you to the entire Sullivan Tire family for the Bob Sullivan Memorial Golf Tournament in my honor. This was the first year that the tourney was done for an individual, and although there were a few glitches along the way, I hope that the Sullivan family feels that the event was worthwhile. I certainly do, and thank you. It's not often an event meets expectation, but this golf tournament met and exceeded anything I could have dreamed of. I'm not sure of an exact number, but there were around 250 golfers and 300 people overall at the event and dinner that was held on the two courses of Pinehills Country Club in Plymouth, Mass. Jon Lester and Dustin Pedroia made appearances, wihle Jim Rice and former Bruin Derek Sanderson golfed and stayed for dinner. Thanks to all four, especially Pedroia who I was able to travel with for an hour or so and was totally welcoming and really, just a regular, cool dude.

I want to especially thank Paul and Bobby Sullivan, as well as Pat Greene and Pat LaBracque for their amazing efforts in putting this event together. I'll never be able to express how much it means to me. A special thank you also goes out to my father for being in a position to help give me this opportunity, I hope I continue to make you proud. Thank you to everyone who donated, as well as all the volunteers who helped the whole event go smoothly.




I don't often get VERY emotional, but this whole event was really special. Paul had me give a quick word at the end of dinner, to a standing ovation. I was literally almost too choked up to talk, and didn't get everything out that I wanted to say. But I must say that this whole ride I'm on couldn't be as successful as it will be without support like this. It was and is truly amazing! There are obviously times that I feel low, like I'm so far away from my goal, that my perspective gets clouded with doubt. Honestly, it's tough to stay so low because of all the support that I have and continue to receive. This supports helps me get back "up" quickly. I try to stay extremely strong, but in the times where I struggle, which proudly are few and far between, I'm really in the perfect situation for such an awful thing to have happen and can't allow myself to stay down. I have a tremendous and loving family, amazing friends and people who have displayed such caring and giving attitudes because they care about me or even just care about people who care about me. Thank you to everyone...

And the progress:
It's certainly coming along. There are days where I feel I should be improving much quicker, but I have to remember and have people often reminding me, that I'm trying to teach myself to walk again, there will be bad days. I'm not sure if it's the competitiveness in me (in this case with my body) but I expect to be doing big things. John at JoFo has been great, and reminds me of my progress all the time. He often takes my focus and determination as "being in the tank", but I'm usually not, usually just determined beyond belief. What's been difficult to deal with is that the tone I use to stay standing has actually been breaking down some, lessening my time standing. But the tone and spasms that have been shorter have also been getting more violent and stronger. Johnny lets me know that this is the typical, so I'll take his word with that. Before I told him what was happening, he gave me the explanation, as if he already knew what was going on. This is really a positive, and it's only a matter of time...

I'm currently trying to regain hip flexor and glute (butt) strength. This is really the tough part, in trying to "wake up" the muscles/nerves that aren't firing as well as say, my quads, calves and hamstrings. What is so frustrating for me is the emotional battle in the waiting game. It's tough, but a necessary evil. I'm always just trying to maintain my positive attitude through this wait. The best and most noticeable progress has been in my core strength. I've regained my obliques, which are on each side of your core. They are weaker, but there and functional. I've never been so happy to wiggle before! I can also sit up pretty well from a bent over position in say, the car, without hands, and can almost sit up for a lying position without hands. But when the core is back, the hips can come back, and that will help leaps and bounds towards getting successful pushes through my legs and help me stand. When I'm standing, that's all I'm going to be doing. Never sitting. Ever. I can''t tell you how sick of sitting down I am...

August 18, 2008
Hi. This is Tim's sister Chris. It's been months since I've written for Tim's site, but it's also been months since I went with him to Journey Forward and felt like I had anything new to report. But last week I hung out with him there, and it was a whole different experience than the one I had when we went with him in the spring. He is so much stronger, so much more confident than before. His stability on the Total Gym compared to what it was before, well, it doesn't really compare. There wasn't much stability in his trunk before, and now he's practically doing crunches, holding himself up. The difference in his legs is the most striking. They were so skinny. He now looks like an average, very fit guy just sitting in a wheelchair as if to rest, not someone who has been paralyzed for a year. Those legs aren't atrophying, they are getting ready to go again. Tim kept saying he had a terrible day the day I was there with him last week. It was a Monday and his legs are generally not very wound up after taking a couple days off over the weekend. But it didn't look like a bad day on this end. And his legs looked wound up to me. During squats with John on the Total Gym, they shook and held his weight, if only for a short time. I was amazed. Just seeing his legs move at all thrills me because I know it is just the beginning, and they are coming slowly back to life. Too slowly, if you ask Tim. But if you ask me, in a few short months, the progress he has made is nothing short of astounding. And I can't wait to go back and see the next phase of progress.

July 18, 2008
I promised and delivered a post! I'm maturing before my own eyes... Unfortunately it's almost 5pm and not sure if Chris will be able to get it on the site today. But, it's written.

This is the grand weekend of the one-year anniversary. It will come along late Saturday into Sunday, so emotionally Sunday will be a tough day. Luckily, we have the derby Saturday, and of course the love and support is encouraging. Today, I received cards of prayer and reminders of how far I've come from Marge Kidder and Andria, and it really, really means a lot. Thank you.

On the recovery front, the "good days" are happening more often. I could see something significant every week or so, but now am seeing increased strength and improvement each day. Now-a-days, I see the most in my hip control. I don't have any functional movement in my hips yet, but they are getting stronger and much more in control, even when my legs are "tired" or not as active with spasms. This just proves I am stronger all around. From what I'm learning, it's going to "happen" from the top down, and I won't be able to walk without good core control.

Speaking of the spasms, they are getting very strong. This is important. Working with John at Journey Forward, or JoFo, he's helping me realize I'm really getting into the second of three phases of this recovery. The first was building strength of the spasms. Check. Then it's on to being able to work with the spasms, turning them on and off. The third stage is developing controlled movement through the spasm. All three take time, and it will be up to my body to decide how quickly this happens. I'm now entering the second phase, but my body is responding exactly how John and Brett, the two most experienced trainers at JoFo, want it to. I'm happy, but nowhere near satisfied. Dan Cummings tells me all the time how impressed he is and I'm doing great for just under a year post-injury. He should know...

This will no doubt be an interesting weekend. Lots of ups and downs all around, I'm sure. I'm here living with these circumstances, and there's nothing I can do to change it now. But I welcome the challenge to fix it.

I'm looking to get pictures from the workouts up on the site, so you can see certain things that I keep describing. I'll work on that for next week... I'd also like to thank Massie (Chris) for his continued work to this page, like you aren't busy enough with your own fast growing start-up, 36design.

July 15, 2008
I've got to say I've seen good progress lately, and I don't foresee it slowing down. My standing is still the same, roughly 2 minutes on the power plate. I've been working quite a bit on standing on flat ground and have included a camera phone picture from Journey Forward. Apologies if the pic doesn't come out well, but you get the drift! In this photo, I was working on sit to stands for the first time, and was able to keep myself up for about a minute. I have a foam roll in front of my knees to keep them in position (otherwise, my legs would flop forward). The good news is that my arms, where much of my body weight is leaning, gave out before my legs did. The bad news, beyond being super-skinny, is that originally I was hoping to stand on my own full-time by the Sullivan Tire Golf Tournament. Unfortunately, this isn't happening, but it's not to say it won't happen for a period while I'm there. My father and I do sit to stands (from my chair to standing) every night. Repetition after repetition. I concentrate on driving weight through my feet and try to gain strength in the muscles and joints necessary to stand full-time. When I'm standing, if I can feel my muscles begin to loose the hold, I give myself a little shake, imitating the action of the power plate. This fires my muscles back up and lets me get a few more seconds out of the hold.

They call me "twinkle toes" at Journey Forward because when I stand, I tend to get right up on the balls of my feet. I don't mind because it is as strong a hold as I have...and it puts me over 6 feet. My short-term goal is to get my holds to a point where they lock for an extended period of time, eventually leading to holding my body weight constantly. At that point, I'll be able to work on greater things, like hip flexors and steps. Not soon enough...

I've also had some great days recently while in therapy. I've said before that my core has almost felt normal, but I must have forgotten what "normal" feels like. Doing some activities (hands and knees, cats and dogs), correct form has been effortless. It's been amazing. Just this past Friday, I didn't have great action in my legs, and I was still in complete control of my hips and core for some time. I was even able to hold my body straight in line and push out a good number of push ups. I haven't done a push up in almost a year, with out a saggy waste and hips. But I think that not having great activity in my legs and still having a great day core-wise is a very good sign. I think it means that more of the actions were through my ability and less of the tone keeping the hold tight. So I'm excited, as I see and feel this progress.

I understand that I've come along way, but it's like the saying goes, "the more I know, the more I know I don't know". The better and stronger I get, the more I realize how much further I need to be. But it will happen, for sure.

New post by Friday, I promise.

Timmy

June 20, 2008
Sorry about the long delay in posts. I'm going to blame a month on the move and not having any Internet (which was hell). I'll take the blame for the remaining two weeks or so.

The house is amazing, and finally all done. Living next door to Eileen and Eric has been great, and they have more than picked up where Chris left off in helping me with the things I need help with. Both have been great! So has my father, as I tell him often. And you can tell my mom lives for the day I walk, and continues to do whatever she can to help get me there. I'd never be in a position to concentrate so intensely on my recovery without such an amazing family. Thank you. On another note, it's also been incredible getting closer to both Gabriella and Cody, my niece and nephew. My perception of that little girl has completely changed. Cutest kid ever. (EVERY TIME I would try to communicate with her in the past, I'd get a grunt or cry, which killed me because I love kids.)

Physically, there has been slight but significant improvement all around. I can now stand on a power plate for about 2 minutes, keeping my knees locked. This is great news and where I've seen the most significant improvement week to week. I've also recently stood on flat ground and kept my knees locked out and hips in control for about 15 seconds or so. From where I was to where I am now, this is huge progress. My leg strength is getting much, much better, and I've gotten a bit of size back in my skinny legs. Since the last post, I've also extended my left leg on command. I haven't done it again since, but it happened once, and I will continuously try to repeat that feat.

I can also sit up much straighter on a bench or the floor, without a chair backing me. The curve is still there, and with the rods in my back, may always be. But I'll never stop trying to fix it. On a related note, my balance is so much better than it was. If the wind had blown, it would have knocked me over. Now it would take a strong push (which I get at Journey Forward daily, haha). Just yesterday, for the first time, I could watch my top 4 ab muscles contract. Up until then, I could see only the top two abs on my left side, because the left is my "less paralyzed" side. Internally, I could feel my abs trying to work, but couldn't see anything. Yesterday, I could see the weak abs on my right side flutter and contract a bit. This does a lot for me psychologically as I look for every little gain, and once I see a gain, I'll continue to work that weak muscle. I've never been afraid of the hard work, especially physically. I actually enjoy needing to work my butt off. At regular rehab, I had told a therapist that I could feel my abs contract just a little bit, and she said she didn't believe me. Inpatient rehab was the only facility I've been in where I've been told to get used to life in a chair. Words can't express how much I look forward to the day I walk in there.

I also want to thank everyone for continuing to check the updates on this site. There isn't always significant progress to report, but I promise to post improvements at least once a week from here on out.

Tim

June 5, 2008
The Memorial Day holiday is over. There is a lot to be grateful for. Namely, we are now all on a Journey Forward. Let me explain: Tim does not attend Project Walk anymore. Project Walk is now a California company doing great things for spinal cord injury patients willing to travel to California. As I understand it, Project Walk's board of directors saw the benefit of specific intensiveSpinal cord therapy and wants to bring it to as many spinal cord injury patients as possible. Project Walk is comfortable with one facility giving great service. The board wanted more. They came to terms and branched outas Journey Forward, a new venture.                                      
    
While I'm sure it is not quite as simple as that, you get the drift: Tim now goes to Journey Forward, with the same great therapists giving the same great service. Everyone at the Canton facility cares about quality of life, making sure that the patients are being all they can be.Helping them to help themselves, giving hope while making progress on each patient's recovery. While some may never walk again, some will, and Journey Forward will be there every step of the way.               
     
Walk or not, everyone's quality of life is improved. The guys there are great, mostly Tim's age with the same interests. Tim respects their abilities and work ethics while placing high value on their friendship. Moving on to Tim's improvement, the pressure wound is much better. We can see the light at the end of a long tunnel. (A little play on words there).                                                              
Almost healed, a couple more weeks with the vacuum leash should do it. Tim's standing for over a minute and doing squat exercises for muscle memory retention. You can see the improvements every week. His core is stronger and his balance has improved. Progress comes with hard work, and Tim is up to the challenge.                                         
    
One last thing: My employer, Sullivan Tire, is having a golf outing on July 31 to benefit Tim. How great is that? A great course (actually two courses), at Pine Hills in Plymouth,Mass. Golf, dinner, raffles, auctions, celebrity appearances, prizes, giveaways, etc, etc.       
    
Sullivan Tire always does it right. It will be a classy, fun day. If anyone wants to play or contribute, please call me, Bob Morris, at

508-294-0146.                                                       
    
And thank you for continuing to check in on Tim. It means everything to us and to him.                                                     

April 25, 2008
I was planning on posting last week. I felt bad after saying I didn't see the sense in weekly posts. But recently, I've noticed weekly changes, all beneficial, and I'll make sure to post them up here. In this case, I'm actually happy I didn't post. I was excited to see that I could sit up from about a 20-30 degree angle, on a Busa Ball (essentially, half an exercise ball) using a 4lb. weight, not as momentum, but only holding it out in front of me. That was last Friday. However, this past Friday, I was able to do the same thing without using a weight. I was able to sit up on my own, without the assistance of anything. That's a huge change in only a week's time...

The big reason as to why I'm writing this post is that on this past Monday, I took assisted steps on a treadmill. It was ugly. Real ugly. But it felt great to get the appearance of walking again. We (myself and the two trainers that were working with me) were looking to see where I'm at in the process. I had okay hip flexor use in stepping after a good stretch for the rear leg to bring my knee up into my body. It could have been better, without a doubt. But I had good lockout in both my legs as I stepped down and felt the treadmill pressure under my foot. I'm pleased with this. I had a difficult time shifting my weight with each step and clearly wasn't able to keep my hips and knees locked throughout the activity. Either way, I still "walked" for eight minutes, and it felt good to see again.

Today, as my mother stayed to watch what was going on, I displayed much better hip control and good lockouts as I stood. I worked on crawling, and was able to keep my hips in control and could "catch" them if they ever bailed. I also showed good balance. I was able to keep my balance as someone pushed me in every direction, and did well rocking back and forth while catching myself using my core muscles at the end of each movement. It was very encouraging. Her big thing was seeing me able to initiate a leg extension on demand. No extensions are exceptional, and I can't hold them for a long time or even extend my legs completely straight, but that will all come. She was just happy to see me move my legs when asked to...

The best part of the day may have been while I was taking a shower. For the first time, I felt normal. I need to sit on a shower bench, can't currently move my legs or lift my butt without some manipulation, but I felt a huge change in my balance. I couldn't move below my hips, but from the waist up I had total control, lifting both arms without bracing myself in any way. It felt really good. Good things are happening...

April 7, 2008
So writing an update every week doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Although I want to keep everyone involved in what's currently happening, there isn't enough for me to write about all the time. When there are no updates, please don't think I'm slacking, but that I'm only improving strength in excercises I've already been doing.

Anyways, last Wednesday was a difficult day for me. For a few years, a goal I had set for myself was to wake up on my 27th birthday in my own condo or house. That was the age for me, when enough is enough and I can really enjoy my independence. I had finished my Master's and looking for the right teaching job, I was personal training, and finally on my feet moving in the right direction. Instead, I woke up in my sister's family room/my bedroom. So instead of enjoying the birthday, I spent alot of time thinking about what should have been. It was a bit of a weak moment (day) for me. But, quite a few people helped me realize that I was fortunate to wake up, period. I don't remember a whole lot about what I went through and looked like, but they sure did. I appreciate that no one was afraid to let me know about it, either. My parents, my sisters and the Massie's all made sure I knew this on Wednesday, and it really helped. I used the next day or two to turn the feelings of disappointment into motivation. I need to always make the best of my current situation, for both myself and the people in my life that have put a lot of heart and effort into helping me. It's the only way to get out from where I am, and the only way to do it the fastest way possible. The disappointment is just gas for the fire to help me attain that goal, just a little later than I had hoped.

With that said, I now have things happening that will also motivate me to keep pressing on. On Friday, I was able to stand up on my own, no one needing to keep my knees locked out, for about 25 seconds. Weeks ago, I was able to only do this for 3-4 seconds. A short-term goal of mine was to be able to stand up on my own by the time I moved out of Chris and Hans's, into our new house. Although this probably won't happen within the next few weeks, I can be happy with the progress knowing it's only been about two and a half months at Project Walk. I've also just started accupuncture, which for many people helps improve function and sensation as long as they believe it can work. Well I'm in 100%, willing to do anything that may help. I'm beginning to gain some topical sensation on the back of my legs and just below my knees, so I hope the acupunture will help further this along. I was also just recently recognized as the March 10th Client Milestone on the Project Walk Boston page on the PW website for my improved ability to sit straighter and more upright. I'm not supposed to have function below the mid-chest level, so I have a very pronounced c-curve in my back. I'm getting to a point where I can sit up with more ease and it's also helping slightly with my newfound scoliosis since my accident, which causes a ton of back pain. I guess I'll take the bad with the good though, as having pain means I have some feeling.

There will be plenty more to write about, soon hopefully. I just want to take the opportunity to thank my immediate family for their front and center role in helping my recovery regularly. Thank you Chris, for helping me take care of daily activities that I need help with, and dressing this damn wound (about 1 month left!) before PW every other day. My appreciation for what you've done, as your uncomfort has increased while the size of your belly that continues to seemingly grow by the day (and only the belly, it's amazing, no where else), can't be put into words. I'll see you sumo wrestling on NESN soon. My parents together, for being two very busy people but both ALWAYS able help me be where I need to be. Individually, Pops for being a rock, always saying the right things at the right time, bringing me to the appointments and helping out with the daily stuff. As I get older I appreciate how much fun we have together. You also pack a good wound! And Ma, for handling the other half of the appointments, the accupunture, the pharmacy trips and a lot of the intangables. You make yourself available every weekday, and thank you for that. That's a whole lot of driving! And Eileen, for currently being a great cheerleader, but also being prepared to take Chris's role when we get in the new house.

From Tim's sister Chris, March 8
I haven't written in a long time because, once Tim was able to write for himself, I knew it was time to bow out and let him share what he's going through in his own words. I think we all needed that, we needed to hear from Tim. But after Hans and I spent the day with him at Project Walk this week, I couldn't help but want to write about what I saw there and what I saw in Tim's face as he fought through a typical hard-core session there. Because our parents usually handle getting him to and from Project Walk, this was my first time watching Tim work out since inpatient therapy back at Northeast. I'm not sure I can do justice to what a difference there is, but I will try.

Until my visit Wednesday, I hadn't known what went on during his sessions, I only saw the daily improvements back at home. He's stronger. He's put on weight. His legs once again have real muscle tone, after appearing to many of us as shockingly and disturbingly skin-and-bones when he was still in the hospital. His upper body is regaining a lot of that bulk that we think of when we think of good old Tim. He maneuvers easier, his transfers from car to chair, chair to car, wheelchair to family room chair or shower chair, whatever, are a million times smoother than they were during those
rough and sometimes scary first weeks at home, when we laughed our way through his inevitable fumbles and falls, but cried plenty, too.

We got to Project Walk a half-hour late because of a couple of accidents on 128, but as soon as we arrived, they got Tim moving. He started out on a Total Gym machine, working on squats and activating his thigh muscles and calves through massage. John, the program director, kept moving Tim's feet around on the platform to make sure he was getting as much stimulation
as possible. And for what must've been a half-hour, Tim worked those legs, as well as his core, as he worked to hold a position, pull himself forward, and fight against John as John pushed against Tim's shoulders toward
the cushion. Tim was all business, not wanting to waste any of his precious, very expensive -- and on this day, abbreviated -- time there on small talk. You could tell he was pushing his hardest to hold himself up during
squats and fighting like mad to strengthen his core when John was trying to push him. Because of the relatively high level of his injury, Tim's not supposed to have abs, but I'm telling you, he does. He is regaining muscle tone farther down as the weeks progress. It may just be a modest two pack at this point (sorry, Tim), but it's better than a lot of us have! And he'll work his way back to a six pack, or eight pack, or however-many pack he had before. One look at him during these exercises and you know it.

One example of his core strength increasing is from yesterday, when Tim had one arm raised above his head to apply deodorant. A short time ago, he would have had to rest his hand on this wall next to him to keep
himself from tipping, but that is no longer the case. His balance is that much better.

At another point during the session, during which he had three staff members working with him at all times, Tim was standing, braced by his therapists, on a Power Plate, which vibrates and creates small muscle contractions throughout the body. At one point, Tim was going up on tiptoes, his calves were contracting that much. This was a first, and Margarita, who was working with him at the time, was excited.

Tim moved on to a handbike, which he pedaled while being held up in a standing position. He said this is the toughest part for him because it requires him to fight for balance while working out his upper body on the bike. He gets a cardio workout from this, as well, and it's tiring since his lungs took such a hit in the accident. But after a short break, he's back at it full force. Then comes floor work, more core work with medicine balls, and the end of the day. They work him straight through, right
till the clock strikes 12:30. No wonder he is exhausted by the time he gets home.

For Hans and I, one other highlight of the experience was meeting Dan Cummings, whose picture greeted me that day last July when I discovered Project Walk online and knew there was reason to hope. I clicked on the
website and saw him there, holding his wheelchair over his head and smiling triumphantly. If you aren't familiar with his story, I encourage you to Google him. Like Tim, he's a young guy with determination and drive and a goal, and, through Project Walk, is achieving it. After years of hard work, he's walking now, with a walker, which he is working toward not needing,and he is responsible for bringing Project Walk to Boston. For that, and for the hope he has given us, and for what he has achieved since his accident eight years ago, he is a hero in my book. It was an honor to meet him, not to mention so nice of him to answer our questions. One thing he told us was that Tim seemed to have the drive it will take to get back on his feet. While we knew this already, it was good to hear that he was seeing some of himself in Tim.

One side note: Tim -- and Project Walk in general -- has faced quite a bit of skepticism lately, with one person in his rehab/medical circle going so far as to say, though not to his face, that he is wasting his money at Project Walk. Others have made it pretty clear they don't believe Tim when he says he will walk again. While I find this really upsetting, and would love to tell these people to keep it to themselves (among other things),
Tim is nothing but motivated by it: He can't wait to walk up to these skeptics and show them what hope and drive, progressive thinking and aggressive therapy, and love and encouragement can do. It will be the ultimate response to their doubts. It will be one of his proudest
moments.And what a euphoric day it will be.

2/19/2008
From Tim
Did I say two weeks? I meant a month. But that's two more weeks of progress to tell you about. In my second week at Project Walk, I rediscovered reflexes in my legs again. I can't express how happy I was to see my legs jump when my knees were tapped. I was tested for reflexes several times at the hospital and in the rehab, and nothing presented. I've had increasing quad and hamstring activity since I've been home, while showing very little from my hip flexors. All three need to be strong to begin walking again, to put it simply. Not until two weeks ago did I even show signs hip flexor activity, but now I am, and they too are growing stronger. This process is a crawl. My balance is awful, and my newly found scoliosis makes sitting up straight difficult. But I'm not going to stop, never going to give in.

Seeing progress helps me keep mentally strong for this fight, and thankfully I'm experiencing it. Within the first five minutes at PWalk on Friday, I was able to lift my leg about thirty degrees from a hanging position off the end of a table without any manipulation. It was just a few seconds, but I lifted my leg! I'm at the first floor of a thousand story building, but at least I'm in the building.

A compilation video was posted on Projectwalk.org. It has several clients in the video, but you can get a small picture of things I work on there. Some of what other people are working on are strengthening activities I do as well, but most of these people are injured at an even higher level, with less control of their bodies. Find it at http://www.projectwalk.org/boston/index.html and then click on the image under client spotlight (halfway down the page). That should take you there. You will grab a glimpse of me forty pounds lighter...

1/24/2008
From Tim
These updates had been few and far between over the last couple months. Really, there hasn't been a whole lot of change. Well that's changing, too. Project Walk started Monday and I'm on the eve of my third day. If you haven't checked out Projectwalk.org, I recommend you do so. It's what has kept me going while waiting (and waiting) for the Boston spot to open. The wait has been worth it. I plan on writing an update, or trying to, each week. Hopefully the Chrises will help me out when I need it or when they just want to add their own things.

I had been in outpatient therapy at the same rehab that I was in for inpatient, and they've helped the time go by. My therapists Sarah, Rhonda and Dawn were more willing to work on the "things" that were currently non existent: ab strength, lower back and a little leg action. The core strength has improved slightly and I also displayed a little leg movement, under my own power.

But Project Walk has been at another level. For a couple hours a day, 3 days a week, we hammer my core and legs. I'm starting (I stress starting) to display some leg function and muscle activity, and just yesterday I was able to experience reflexes from my knees again. John, a PW trainer, was tapping my knee (which I felt and already I considered this an accomplishment) and as I checked it out in the mirror my leg was jumping, as it used to. This was the first time I've experienced a reflex in 6 months. So I'm looking for small victories each day, maybe each week, that I can hold on to, knowing everything will add up to the ultimate goal.

Thanks for the support,
Tim

From Tim
Wow...where do I begin? I'm on an extremely bumpy ride right now, but it is made better by all of you! Thank you, sincerely. I'm so very lucky to have such great people around me and offering help, well-wishes and sympathy. So my legs don't currently work, but my mind and heart still do, and it has been absolutely amazing to feel and see the support that has been coming to me. I want to take a second to thank everyone that has put together a fundraiser to help me get to Project Walk and realize my new goal of walking again. I also want to thank everyone that has donated to my medical fund. Project Walk isn't cheap, but I promise you I will make the most of every minute I spend there! I'm going to walk again, I know and expect this, and I couldn't do it without your love and support.

So the medical update: Finally home from a month at Mass General and three months at Northeast Rehab Hospital. There are many, many people at each that have earned my deepest gratitude. I have learned and am still learning to be independent in a wheelchair and in life as a recovering spinal cord injury patient. But this stage will only be temporary. How temporary? Who knows... but it will be only temporary. My injury was and is bad, but I'm still here, and it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. The door is open, as my neurosurgeon would say. And I'm going to kick it on my way through.

To my family and friends, thank you. You mean the world to me.

Tim

November 26
I'm really sorry for long stretches of time between updates about Tim. For some reason, it got harder and harder to write about him as he got better and stronger, perhaps because the daily improvements, while evident,
became more subtle. But I'm happy as hell to report this week's news: Tim's finally out of the hospital. Four months, four days after his accident, he is home again, safe and sound. And we couldn't be happier. He started outpatient therapy at Northeast today, and in January will begin advanced rehabilitation at Project Walk in Boston. Though he only left Northeast on Saturday, when he showed up today to begin his outpatient therapy, he was greeted with hugs and smiles and cheers. They miss him already and said it's sad for them to walk by his room and know he's not in there. They got
attached to him. It's no surprise. Don't we all?
Welcome home, Timmy.

November 7, 2007
From our Dad:
November, the month to give thanks. I do, Tim does, Tim's whole family does. Thanks to everyone who has been a part of Tim's care. Elliot Hospital, where they stabilized him and transported him to Massachusetts General Hospital. MGH saved his life and put Tim back together. Northeast rehab has shown Tim new skills. All great stuff. Much appreciated. Thanks to the staff of all three for the wonderful service and the dedication to making Tim well. Thanks to NH Medicaid for making all the service possible. Thanks to all Tim's friends for keeping his spirits up during his recovery. Laughter is the best medicine, and you have made Tim laugh many times with your great stories. Thanks for being there. Thanks to all who have been so generous. Thanks for the fund-raisers. Thanks for the contributions. Every $100 raised equals one hour at Project Walk. Project Walk is the next step in accomplishing Tim's goal: to walk again.

Most of all, thanks to Tim. Thanks for the show of character. Thanks for teaching us how to handle adversity. Thanks for the positive attitude. You have been amazing. Nurses and aides have told me that you are why a draining profession is worthwhile. You appreciate them. You are grateful. You thank them for their help. Tim, thanks for being so determined. Thanks for the extra effort. Thanks for your sense of humor. Thanks for being you. We all love you.

November 2, 2007
Another milestone: The back brace is off and Tim's back is officially fused. Dr. Aghi was incredibly positive with Tim, and told him there are no restrictions on his therapy. He can work up to working out as hard as
he wants. He feels a little like "a floppy fish," he says, without the support of the brace, but he's already getting used to it and will get stronger over time. Hopefully he will be able to eat more, too, without the
brace restricting his stomach. He is using the standing frame daily now, for as long as possible, and has begun to use a special bike that stimulates his leg muscles using electrodes. He is within two weeks of heading home, and can't wait to get there, as well as to begin his intensive out-patient therapy at Project Walk later this year.

October 21, 2007
Today was a great day. We were able to steal Tim from the hospital to watch the Patriots game at home. It was so nice to see him out of that place, laughing, cheering, snacking, doing normal things, surrounded by friends and family instead of nurses and therapists. (Not that we're not appreciative of every little and big thing they do for Tim day in and day out.) In just over three weeks, though, what was a special treat today will become the norm, and after a full three months of living in a hospital setting, I don't think Tim or any of us can wait for his release date to arrive. And just in time for Thanksgiving. Perfect timing. We have have so
much to be thankful for.

October 13, 2007
Tim got great news this week: He can toss that damn neck brace! His neck is officially healed. He's supposed to ween himself off it, to allow his neck muscles to strengthen, but little do they know that Tim's been weening himself off that thing privately for weeks. It's really good to see his neck again. His hand is also healed perfectly, and his surgeon wouldn't let him leave the other day before he could take pictures of Tim's hand for his Hall of Fame.

More great news to come down this week: Tim is a sure thing for Project Walk's Boston location, which could be open in December. We've applied and spoken with their people in California, and it's clear Tim is an ideal candidate for the program, which works under the theory that the best way to get your legs moving again is to get your legs moving again -- with progressive therapy and intense exercise. He'll be in the first group of clients. The website is worth checking out, www.projectwalk.org. Every click inspires optimism, just like Tim does.

Oct. 9, 2007
Tim's in the midst of a whirlwind of activity at MGH - he'll be making his third trip there in four days tomorrow to visit various doctors and surgeons. On Sunday, it was for a CT scan of his neck and back, which seem to be healing well. (No official word yet on whether he can toss that neck brace for good.) Today it was to see someone about his pressure sore, also healing well. And tomorrow he goes for a follow-up on his hand, which, except for a light pink scar, looks and functions as if it were never hurt at all. He's also in the process of trying out a bunch of wheelchairs to find a good fit until he's back on his feet. And he's been working on using the standing machine at Northeast, a gradual process that is moving along well.

Thank you so much to everyone who attended and ran and organized the benefit dinner and silent auction for Timmy at the Tewksbury Country Club last week. It was a great success and a lot of fun and also greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Oct. 7, 2007
Tim's time at Northeast has been extended, which we were all hoping for. It means hopefully when he does finally come home in mid-November, it will be without the back brace and with complete independence. We had a meeting with his team (doctor, nurse, case manager, physical therapist, and occupational therapist) and discussed the plan from here on out. It includes getting that wound healed, putting some meat on his bones, seeking aggressive therapy, helping Tim on his way to reach his goals. After Northeast, his doctor will support us and help us in getting Tim into some intensive and progressive therapy programs. After a lot of worse-case scenarios over the last few months, we were happy with yesterday's meeting. It was best case, with everyone on board to do what is best for Tim, to give him the best possible chance for the best possible outcome.

Meanwhile, Tim's spirit remains unbreakable. The kid is amazing in every way. But you knew that already.

Sept. 26, 2007
A Note from Chris Massie
I just want to thank everyone once again for coming out to the show last saturday night. It really looked like everyone had a blast and we raised over $5,000 for Tim's medical fund. Also, as listed above, Tim's friends, clients, and co-workers from Planet Fitness are having a night out for Tim this thursday at the Tewksbury Country Club. We hope to see you all there for another fun night.

On another note, Tim took his first trip out of the hospital with just his friends and family on Sunday. He really enjoyed his time away without any OT's, PT's, or doctors around. Not that we don't appreciate everything that they do, but it was nice for Tim to get time away and go for a ride. None of us could ever imagine that in just a matter of two and a half months that Tim would be at this point in his recovery. It's really an incredible thing to see.

Sept. 26, 2007
Tim's made leaps and bounds in his physical therapy. He can now do most everything without any assistance, a real feat with that back brace on. He can roll, sit up, get himself to the edge of the raised mat, and scoot himself over to a chair. Tom is abundant with his praise for Tim and his progress. He's come so far since those first days at rehab. He's now beginning to practice transfers from a real bed, and next week will begin leg strengthening and cardio exercises. We have to get those legs moving before they forget that's their job. Tim's also nearly done with the Passport education program. Friday will mark the end. Graduation. Hooray.

They're using a machine to help him with that pressure sore. It's called a wound vac, and it's pretty new technology. It speeds up healing, though the process is by no means fast. He will likely be wearing it for a month, possibly more. Already it has helped shrink the wound, though it can get noisy at times, when there's a leak in the seal, and it kept him up two nights ago. But his nurses fixed the problem and now it hums along, and you'd never even know it is there.

Tim's doing well, upbeat and optimistic. He's spent as much time as possible outside in the sun, soaking up the last of the warmth. Tonight we braved the wrath of the security guard and stopped by after visiting hours had ended. He was curled up on the bed watching the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie on TV (claiming there was nothing else on when we ribbed him about it) and chatting on the phone with Andria. The lights were off, the wound vac was quiet. We hope you slept tight, Timmy.

For when there is nothing new to report: Another weekend over. Another Pats victory. Another Red Sox loss. Other then the Sox, it was a great weekend. The weather was great. Fall is starting to show its color. Tim's friends and family have been showing their true color for two long months. They are always there. The Lion's Den could have been called the Lion hearted. They have come from The Big Apple, from Nashville, from Boston and, of course, from Connecticut. What staunch friends. Not just QU friends, either. There are UNH friends, Londonderry school system friends, East Kingston school system friends, Salem High School friends, Windham Middle School friends, basketball friends, softball friends, fantasy league friends, etc., etc., preschool friends, too! Can't forget Planet Fitness . . . more friends. Tim is wealthy with friends. They visit, they make him laugh, he smiles when they parade in. Sometimes alone, sometimes in packs. It makes no difference, he loves to see them, to be with them. Tim wants to know how they are doing, what's new, how their lives are progressing. Some friends have been amazing. They do fund-raisers for Tim. They visit constantly. They keep his spirits up. I thank and appreciate each and every one of them. Family. Same story. Always there for Tim. So very supportive. So very loving. How does everyone find the time to visit in this hectic world? We are all busy. Things to do, places to go. Work to be done. Regardless, everyone has made Tim a priority. Everyone makes time. Why? To see his smile. To see how proud he is of his progress. To understand how grateful he is to be alive. Tim is inspirational. Who loves you, Tim? We all do!

Sept. 21, 2007
Tim's trip to MGH to see his neurosurgeon went well yesterday. Dr. Aghi said Tim's back is about halfway fused. In six weeks he'll have another scan and they'll talk about when he can lose the clamshell brace. In two weeks he'll go back for a CT scan of his neck and hopefully lose the neckbrace. Dr. Aghi suggested doing both scans in 6 weeks to cut back on travel time, but Tim was having none of that. He's so looking forward to the day he can ditch that thing.

Today we went on another luncheon outing, this time in a car. His OT Kim and his recreational therapist Pam helped him transfer into it, and then we all checked out a new sushi restaurant on Tim's suggestion. He made transferring in and out of wheelchair look easy and eating sushi look enjoyable. I don't know he does it.

Sept. 19, 2007
Tomorrow Tim heads to MGH to meet with Dr. Aghi, his neurosurgeon, to discuss the CT scan, we imagine, and talk about how his recovery is progressing. Tim's looking forward to it and said he's got some questions for him, this man he does not remember but who has played such an important role in his life.

His doctor at Northeast wants Tim to spend a little more time in bed so that the pressure sore gets a chance to heal. You can tell he kind of hates the idea, though he knows it's necessary. It's just for an hour here and there, but it eats into his time to be outside in the sun, where he loves to be. He's learning to be a patient guy, a patient in general, and it is not in his nature to just lie around. But he's getting there, just as he is in his recovery, and still with that smile on his face.

Sept. 17, 2007
These days when Tim transfers from bed to chair, chair to mat, mat to chair, it's him doing almost all of the work, to the great pleasure of his nurses and therapists. He takes pride in the small improvements, which over the course of a week or two add up to major progress, and friends who can't get up for visits more than once a week have commented on how much stronger he gets each time they see him.

Medically, Tim's dealing with a couple of infections that are to be expected in someone who has been in a hospital setting for two months, so he's taking new antibiotics for the infection. His nurse Cheryl also used a digital camera to show Tim the bedsore they've been working to clear from the small of Tim's back for several weeks now. It's slowly healing. And Cheryl's idea of showing Tim what they're working on back there as they
change his dressing and clean the sore was a kind and innovative way to include him in his care, to give back to him some of the control over his own body that he's had to surrender. And it was obvious he appreciated it. Thank you for that, Cheryl.

Sept. 15, 2007
Today Tim zipped in to MGH via CareVan for a CT scan of his spine. No results yet, obviously. We'll keep you posted. We're sure everything's healing well.

Meanwhile, the last couple of days have been hard. The educational classes he now has to take every day about SCI force Tim to focus on his injury and are geared toward helping patients learn how to adapt to life in a wheelchair. But this is not Tim's image of his how his life will go, and it doesn't fit with his goal of walking again, so he's been discouraged and increasingly sad. We've been doing our best to be by his side, to lift his spirits and remind him of how far he's come, of all the expectations he has exceeded already. He's got to strike a particularly tough balance: To learn to find happiness in life even while he's in a wheelchair, yet never stop fighting to get out. So it was a blessing to have the Lion's Den men and other friends swoop in to Tim's room this afternoon, changing the whole mood, brightening his. Incredible timing, you guys. Thank you.

My best friend once gave me a quilt with an inscription that has sprung to mind many times since the morning of July 20. It seems especially poignant these last few days.

If there is a gap
between past happiness
and future happiness,
bridge that gap
with happiness remembered
and happiness anticipated.

For now, we just need to help Tim bridge that gap.

Sept. 13, 2007
Tim had a great PT session today, and he worked up a sweat. Later on he developed a headache that was really bothering him, so he asked for some Tylenol or Advil, though he told his nurse (who was in a car crash when he was 19 and told he'd never walk again, and now walks around just fine telling Tim to never give up) he tends to sweat profusely after taking Tylenol. Nah, the nurse said. Really? That can't be right. So Tim took
Tylenol and sure enough, about a half-hour later, had soaked through his clothes. Weird. The good news, though? The headache was gone! And he was able to shock and awe his disbelieving nurse. So all's well that ends well, we guess.

While Dad is taking Tim's Medicaid fight to the highest levels of state government, Mom is right there by Tim's side, making sure he's got company when he most wants it (he always does), taking home is dirty laundry and bringing it back for him diligently the next morning, bringing him food when she knows the menu for the night is just not going to cut it for Tim, and sometimes even when she doesn't know what the meal will be but just wants him to have what he likes anyway. She stocks his shelves with water bottles and Gatorade, plastic silverware, and love. She frets over him and gets nervous when someone who doesn't normally work with Tim handles him in a way that's not quite as practiced as we're used to seeing with his regular nurses. She aches for him to get better, to get to the day when he's her happy, healthy Timmy again, the son who is the center of her world, her tormentor, and her favorite guy. He's back to picking on her ruthlessly, but these days she takes it in stride, laughs it off, and knows it's a sign
of Tim getting better, getting stronger, getting back to normal. It's also a reminder of how blessed she is: She still has her Tim. And who could get upset about that? Keep teasing, Tim. Your mother loves you.

Sept. 8, 2007
A queasy stomach didn't stop Tim from getting in two good sessions this morning, one PT and one OT. In OT he worked on upper body strength with his weekend therapist, Meredith, and as someone who doesn't speak Personal Trainer, I felt like an outsider. It was as if he and his therapist were speaking in code, a collection of numbers and commands that I gave up trying to follow. The result, though, was a synergy between them that I imagine makes Tim a occupational therapist's dream. A short while later, in physical therapy, Tim worked on rolls -- getting on his side while lying down. The degree of difficulty is compounded by that back brace -- his "cage," as he calls it -- and the neck brace, which he is now about two weeks away from being able to shed. Can't wait to see his neck again, even if he is a little bobbleheaded for the first couple of days.

Sept. 7, 2007
Today was a break from what's become tradition: Tim left the rehab hospital to venture out into public for the first time in a wheelchair. It's part of his therapy, getting him back out into society. He took a van to Griffin Park, where Mom, Dad, and I met him, and Pam, his recreation therapist, for some lunch. It was hot, so we sat in the shade and enjoyed our time with Tim away from a hospital setting. It's been way too long. His neck was sore from the bumpiness of the ride over, but otherwise he seemed pretty good and unfazed. It would appear, for now at least, that being in a wheelchair in public won't be a problem for Tim, but being in a wheelchair for the rest of his life would. He remains determined as ever to walk again

Sept. 5, 2007
Tim's been working hard, but it's no surprise. He's his father's son. Dad's been working just as hard behind the scenes in his attempt to do his absolute best for Tim, to get Tim the absolute best. It's been so difficult, dealing with the ramifications of Tim not having had insurance, but Dad has secured so much, made sure he's the one working the system so that Tim can focus on getting stronger and better. So as Tim is working out his upper
body, at last able to bear weight on that hand, exercise those muscles with that look of fierce determination we're used to seeing, Dad's been exerting his strength in other ways, just as tirelessly. And I just want to thank you, Dad. You say you would do the same thing if it were Eileen and I, and I never doubted that. You've been so strong since Day 1, and you haven't waned. You're an inspiration to Tim and to all of us, and we are so lucky to have you. I see how Tim looks up to you and feels safe because he knows you are fighting on his behalf. The three of us thank you, Dad, for everything you have done. We know how hard this has been, and you have been a rock throughout. We love you infinitely.

Labor Day Weekend
It's been a pretty relaxed three days at Northeast. Tim's had a couple of sessions of OT and PT, but mostly has spent his time visiting and sitting outside enjoying the weather. He got some sun on his face -- and maybe just
a tad too much on the scar on his hand, which is quite pink today. But otherwise, he really seemed to love being outside, soaking up what's left of this lost summer, which is mercifully coming to an end.

August 31, 2007
A huge relief: Approval for Tim's medical coverage got pushed through in record time, thanks to our friend Mike at NH Medicaid Client Services. We owe you, Mike. Thank you for fighting so hard for Tim when we know you have so many other people to fight for, so much red tape to cut through. It's your victory as much as it is ours. Thank you.

Tim had what he called "a great" PT session this morning, when he was practicing transfers and Tom told him he was doing 80 percent or more of the work himself. He's looking forward to next week, when he'll be able to bear down on that hand of his and do even more of the work. Relying on others is not Tim's style, and you can tell he's not all that comfortable needing help with basic tasks. He was given some putty and another contraption for hand-strengthening that he's supposed to work with over the long holiday weekend, when he won't be getting too much physical therapy.

August 30, 2007
Turns out "stat" actually means "in a couple of days" because we didn't get the results of the blood work they did on Tim, at least not yet. Today he actually missed another PT session because after feeling really cold most of the time lately, he suddenly began to sweat like a madman and had completely soaked his clothes. Tom didn't want him working out in wet threads, so that 45 minutes was devoted to getting him into some dry ones. It's amazing how quickly that block of time for PT goes by. Tim was frustrated again for the setback, but laughing at himself for being such a sweat hog, which many of us know has been the case since long before the accident. Nice to know some things never change. The culprit could be the Tylenol he's been taking for his headaches, which he's had since the accident, when he slammed his noggin pretty severely. About 45 minutes after he takes the Tylenol, he seems to sweat it off. His therapists tell him he's got to expect the bad days with the good ones, and this one just wasn't up there with the most productive of days.

In the afternoon, when Tim was surrounded just by his "immediates" -- Mom, Dad, Eileen, and I -- we read him a couple of cards my Dad had received from people he's worked with over the years. Even kind words from these strangers who are keeping Tim in their prayers touch him deeply, and he became very emotional. One of the cards had the Irish Blessing on its cover, and though this clan has heard it a million times over the years, it takes on new meaning for us now.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
the rains fall soft upon your fields,
and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

To everyone out there who is holding Tim in their thoughts and prayers, thank you.

August 29, 2007
Tim went to MGH today for follow-up appointments with his neuro and hand surgeons. Everything is looking good. The rods in his hand are doing well and he got the OK to begin some strengthening exercises immediately and to begin some weight bearing next Wednesday. This will make PT and transfers from bed to chair, etc., much easier for Tim, and he'll certainly feel less dependent on people when he can use his hand. As far as his back goes, mostly the doctors checked his incision, which is causing him some trouble up at the top because that part is under his neck brace, which Tim will have to wear for another three or four weeks. The collar rubs against the incision, which has begun to open a little at the very top. They sent Tim off with instructions for how his rehab nurses should be caring for it, and he will go back in a few weeks for a CT scan of how his spine is fusing.

Unlike his ambulance ride from MGH to Northeast, this one went pretty smoothly. He loved the EMT who rode in the back with him and he didn't get any motion sickness. Plus, with Dad riding in the front seat (under strict orders not to play with any of the buttons and lights), Tim was more at ease. His blood pressure was playing tricks on him again today, but they have drawn some blood and sent it out to be checked "stat" (a word used
far, far less in hospitals than this medical-drama watcher was expecting), and we should find out tomorrow what may be causing his dizziness. He's OK, though, just frustrated, because it has now cut short two PT sessions, and that's just cramping Tim's style.

August 28, 2007
Solid food! Lunch was Chicken Marsala, and it came in one piece. I wouldn't say Tim loved it, but he ate it. He's on a quest to gain back some of the 25-30 pounds he estimates he has lost since the accident. To this end, Tim still requests to be tube fed through the night so that he takes in more calories. We heard a rumor patients can request protein shakes with their meals. Tim face lit up when he heard this little tidbit from our Northeast pal Hannah.

Another good thing: Tim showered and it was uneventful, unlike last time with the unfortunate shampoo-in-the-trach-hole incident. He struggled a bit maintaining his blood pressure during his afternoon PT session, and it appeared dehydration might have been a factor. He was OK again in no time, but lying down for a month really messes with how the blood circulates through your body, and Tim is no exception. Stabilizing it is just a matter of getting upright more often, which he is doing more and more.

August 27, 2007
I started to read some of the "Timmy is . . ." entries to Tim today, since he doesn't remember us reading them to him when he was semi-awake in the ICU. But it was too much for him, and after reading a handful of random entries, he asked me to stop. He was crying. He's very emotional. The love, support, kindness, and incredible acts of friendship have touched him so deeply. When he's ready, perhaps during those rare times when he is alone, he will read them on his own and weep for how lucky he is, for how loved he is.

Until then, you can probably find him working out and working hard with his therapists. I would think a lot of people might not want company while they are in the midst of a PT session, confronting barriers and fighting past them. But Tim is not one of those people. He likes when someone goes with him -- he says it motivates him. It's as if he wants someone else besides him to know that he can do it. As if there was ever any doubt.

Early estimates from his doctors have Tim at the rehab center though mid-October. In just one week, he has made such great strides. Can we even imagine the wonders he will be performing by the time he leaves?

August 26, 2007
Yesterday's home run derby was a huge success. Thank you to everyone who organized, attended, donated, played, and promoted. Your generosity is humbling. Tim and all of us can't thank you enough. (And, of course, congrats to the winners.)

Sundays are pretty slow days at the rehab center. There aren't any scheduled therapy sessions, but Tim asked to sneak one in if at all possible. He had a full day of visitors, and was as bright and entertaining as ever. He's looking forward to no longer having to select the pureed and soft foods, as tomorrow he will switch to a more traditional diet now that the hole in his throat has had a few days to heal. Those of us who hang around when he eats his meals are also grateful: The sight of ground up
chicken nuggets is disturbing to say the least.

On behalf of my family and Timmy, I wanted to express our thanks to all those who organized and participated in the Home Run Derby. Over and over during the past five weeks we've been astounded at how incredibly kind and supportive people have been and in what creative and thoughtful ways. The Home Run Derby was a fantastic event and I know Tim will be so touched when he watches the video to see all the hard work and thought that went into organizing it, as well as all the people who participated to support him. Thank you, Marcel and Ashley and everybody else involved in making this happen for Tim. He is truly blessed to have such amazing friends, and our family is blessed that Tim has such a strong support system around him.

August 25, 2007
Today is the home run derby, and here's hoping everyone there is having a fantastic time. Tim said he really wishes he could be there. Thank you so much, Ashley and Marcel, for all your work to put the derby together for Tim. You guys are incredible friends. Thank you to all of Tim's friends for everything they have put into this fund-raiser and all the others that are in the works. Thank you for the STAY STRONG TIM bracelets, which are a huge hit. Thank you to everyone who attended the derby. Thank you for everything. Tim thanks you.

Back at Northeast Rehab, Tim's still getting physical and occupational therapy, only on a more relaxed scale because it's the weekend. The sessions are more spread out and shorter, but Tim wasn't about to take it easy. He worked his arms with weights and machines, and practically begged Meredith, who will be he Saturday therapist, to come get him if she ever finds herself with free time during her shift. He wants to work as much as possible. He wants to be strong again. And he's sick of being called skinny. Consider yourself warned.

August 24, 2007
Sorry to be kind of behind with the updates. I'm getting them over to Webmaster Massie a little behind schedule the last couple of days, and I apologize. I think occasionally while Tim's in rehab, I may miss a day of updates here and there, but I will do my best to post the most significant news and celebrate every success. Meanwhile, our freshly showered Tim is scooting around in a different chair that allows him to control both wheels with one hand. His left hand can't be used for propelling a wheelchair because it's still healing from the hand surgery just over two weeks ago. It's uncomfortable, this new chair, and it's not the one he uses regularly because it doesn't recline at all, so Tim's head, because of the combination of the neck and back braces, leans forward. The result is that his broken neck begins to ache, and that's hard to take for long periods of time.

A note on his spirits: One morning this week, in that rare moment when we were beginning to flirt with the idea of dwelling on things, Tim made a comment about how he can't believe that he's in the situation he's in, and I began to recall how, for a couple of reasons, we were both really happy in the early summer and excited about some things that were going on in both of our lives. Then a series of bad things happened in a very quick succession to us and to some people we love, with Tim's accident taking the absolute cake. And I said to Tim that it's just amazing how quickly life changes. "I was just so insanely happy," I said, beginning to cry. And Tim, without pause, beginning to smile, with no hint of doubt in that ever-stronger voice of his, just said, "We'll have that again, Chris." And just like that, we stopped dwelling. I believe him. More importantly, he believes, too.

August 23, 2007
Today's big news? Tim showered! He said he saw his face in the mirror for the first time since the accident and was not a fan of the look his MGH nurses had been crafting for him, namely wild sideburns and a healthy tuft of hair under his bottom lip. What's that called? I'm not sure, but I do know it was getting to be very Kevin Youkilis. Not a good look, Tim decided, so he trimmed that part down. The rest of the scruff he's leaving until the hole from his tracheostomy closes up completely. A smart move, probably, since he did have the unpleasant experience of getting some shampoo down there during the shower. Sorry! Gross but true! But in true Timmy fashion, he quickly began joking about, and it was often the first thing he told his visitors when they asked how his day was.

As for his progress at physical therapy, things are going really well. He continues to impress Tom as he pushes through all the limitations and barriers. I've been with Tim during several sessions and been bowled over by the fight he possesses. It's so hard to even hold his balance when he's sitting up, but he uses every muscle he's got control over and struggles through. He sweats. He winces. He wants so badly to be strong again, to move. His spirits are fantastic considering everything he's been through, and he knows he has to remain positive. But every now and then, when there are just a couple of us around him, he'll look at us and say, "Can you believe this? Can you believe I can't move my legs?" He's just beginning the long, complicated, emotional process of coming to terms with the accident, its aftermath, and what's ahead. I imagine it will be just as hard -- harder, even -- as facing the physical challenges, but in both cases, I think we all know, Tim will cope, and ultimately, Tim will overcome.

August 22, 2007
Today was Tim's first real day of therapy and his physical therapist was very impressed with what Tim can already do and with his strength. He got the OK to eat whatever food he wants and he passed his memory and cognitive tests with flying colors. (It's funny. They were slightly concerned because the day before they had asked him to list words that start with "M" but don't begin with capital letters. Tim had a hard time with that because he really wanted to say "Mike Lowell," he said. So he was thrown off.) He and Tom, his PT, worked on transfers from Tim's bed to his chair. It's especially difficult for Tim because he's got a weight-bearing restriction on his left hand, the one that underwent surgery two weeks ago. Once that and his collar bone heal, transfers will be much easier. He's getting hours and hours of time with the therapists at Northeast, which is fantastic, the best thing for the best outcome, and exactly what Tim wants. He's busy from 7:15 a.m. through about 4 p.m. with a steady stream of appointments, which is great because the day moves fast and at night he's tired. So far, so good. You're on your way, Tim.

August 21, 2007
Today was another big day for Tim as he begins the long road of rehabilitation. Most of these first few days at the facility will be spent assessing what Tim can do on his own and what he needs help with in order to live independently. He began working with Tom, his physical therapist. He also sat in a wheelchair for the first time and ate his lunch at a table for the first time in more than a month. When his upper-body strength and mobility were tested and assessed by his occupational therapist, at one point she grabbed his arm and said she was going to try to pull it down, like a handle on a slot machine. Tim was told to fight against her pull. He did, the look of intense determination in his eyes. He's still so strong. "That's good!" she said. "Really good." He seemed to grow more comfortable with the hospital and got to know the staff he'll be relying on and learning from. The trach came out at last. He wore real clothes; that alone felt like a milestone. As always, he made time for his family and his friends. Thank you for that, Timmy. What a difference a day makes. Can't wait for tomorrow.

August 20, 2007
Moving day went pretty smoothly. Tim's now at Northeast Rehab, where he is one of just a couple of spinal cord injury patients, where friends work and where friends of friends work, and where he will be "the center of attention," one of the therapists assured us. He felt nauseous after the ambulance ride down, and had a headache, but otherwise adjusted well to the move and the new scenery. (He adjusted better than I did. I'll admit it.) After a month of being intensively cared for, he's ready to start caring for himself, he's ready to work, he's ready to get moving. He ate two good meals, talked protein with his dietician (she was speaking his language), and dazzled family and friends with his attitude toward the hard work and weeks ahead. He asked what he can do when he wants to do more therapy, above and beyond, on his own. He met his physical therapist, Tom, and felt that he will be a really good match. So goodbye, MGH. Hello, Northeast
Rehab. We're optimistic, and so is Tim. Let's go.

August 19, 2007
Tonight will be Tim's last night at Mass. General, where he arrived on that awful, faraway morning of July 20 unresponsive and broken, swollen and bruised, in danger and in disrepair. He could not breathe on his own for all the blood in his chest. He could not maintain his own blood pressure for all the trauma. We could not be sure, because of the injury to his brain, that if he survived the accident, we would even be getting back
the Tim we have always known and loved, always laughed with and adored. He could not look at us and tell us he loves us, or that he's scared or that he hurts. He could not do anything but fight for his life. And he did.

He will leave on Aug. 20, again in an ambulance, but this time without the sirens, the lights, and the complete and utter fear of the unknown that nearly drowned us a month ago. He will arrive at rehab. He will eat on his own and breathe on his own. He will smile and cry and be frustrated and hurt. He will be helped and he will adjust. He will tell us he loves us and he will work his body to its limits. He has already shown us what it can overcome, and that was just the beginning.

Keep fighting like hell, Tim. We're fighting with you. You are not alone. You are strong. You are amazing. You are brave. And you are loved.

August 18, 2007, from our dad:
Things to be grateful for:
Doctors . . . they can be miraculous
Nurses . . . they are angels in scrubs
Friends . . . they are so supportive
Coworkers . . . they are compassionate
Employers . . . unbelievably kind and helpful
Family . . . the real meaning of life
Prayers . . . a vehicle to success

Thanks to all of the above. Tim's time at Massachusetts General Hospital is coming to an end, two to four weeks sooner than early predictions. Mass. General saved his life. Friends and family have saved his heart and soul. It's a joy to see how much visitors delight him. He wants to know how they are doing. He cares, he loves, he bonds. Tim has made new friends at the hospital. He's unbelievable. Nurses visit from the ICU just to check in.

Tim's the strongest and most caring man we know. We have seen the pain in his eyes as procedures are done. When they're over, Tim smiles and thanks everyone for their time and help. The closest thing to a complaint in the last four weeks has been, "I just want to go to work." He's strong but sometimes alone. We have also seen the pain in his eyes when we have to say, "Good night, Tim. We love you. See you tomorrow," leaving him
alone, with his thoughts, in this place that saved his life.

August 17, 2007
The troops rallied for Tim today regarding where he'll be going for rehab. While that is not yet settled for insurance (or lack thereof) reasons, he's sticking around the hospital for the weekend, which is not such a bad thing. After a rough night's sleep ("or lack thereof" applies here, too), Tim was still a charming host to his wide array of guests. Tim's trouble sleeping is becoming legendary up there on White 7: The drug they were giving him at night was apparently making him hallucinate, and a couple of nights ago he had what he calls "an incident." He fell asleep watching "Terminator 3," woke up thinking he WAS the Terminator, but not knowing whether he was good or bad, began tearing out the central lines in his arm. (He cracks up telling this story. He's amused by it, to say the least.) They took him off that medication, for obvious reasons, but then he didn't sleep much last night without it. Tonight he was going to be given something different. So here's hoping you're asleep right now, Timmy, with a head full of dreams that aren't about Arnold.

August 16, 2007
Today was a mix of some good and some not-so-good. But in the end, Tim was smiling when we left him, so I guess, really, it's all good, as our sister would say. Where he will go for rehab is up in the air, and tomorrow will be spent trying to get that issue settled. Meanwhile, he did great sitting up for most of the day, and he was in good spirits. Our cousin Sheila got to spend some rare alone time with Tim this afternoon, and she said he made her day, cracking jokes and being sarcastic. The stitches from his hand surgery were taken out early because he's such a speedy healer (9 days later versus the usual 10 to 15) and he was undergoing more swallowing tests to make sure he's ready to start eating some soft foods. When the doctor asked him what he wanted -- ice cream? pudding? anything you want! -- you could just tell from his hesitation that he was counting grams of fat. He said he'd stick with water. Can you believe that? A health nut to the end Something he drank during the swallowing test may have gone down the wrong pipe and caused a bit of a respiratory scare late in the day, but Tim was OK -- if a bit shaken -- after all the doctors and nurses worked their magic. It meant he wasn't up for visitors afterward, but he wanted the group of you who came to know that he loves you guys, he's sorry he didn't get to see you, and he hopes you come back. "Good friends," he said. He'll see you soon.

August 15, 2007
Kicking back in his recliner today, Tim did exactly what he might be doing if he were not in the hospital: He watched the Sox game with friends and family. We can only hope the pain of their loss distracted him for a
while, at least, from the pain in his back. He did well, though, in that brace, tolerating it for hours on even less medication. And it looks as if we are on track for the move to Spaulding on Friday. He's made incredible progress these last few days, and we're amazed and proud of him. He's such a speedy healer, which can only bode well for the months ahead. Keep it up, Timmy.

August 14, 2007
Tim hit so many milestones today: He sat in a chair! He went outside! He ate applesauce! His trach was capped! His pain meds were cut in half! It was a busy, good day for him, even if that back brace is uncomfortable and takes some getting used to. On top of all this, at the end of the day, two of our most favorite nurses from the ICU, Maureen and Ginny -- who cared for him on his first scary day and night and for weeks aftwerward -- came up to his new floor to visit, and Tim was happy and touched and all smiles. They regaled him with stories about himself that he does not and will not remember, including the night he fought to take off his "costume" (the johnny). They told him that it's been a bad summer in the ICU but that he helped make up for that. And that they are amazed at his progress and they miss having him around. They can't possibly visit every patient they have cared for, can they? But they visited Tim, whom they also care about. Maureen and Ginny, how will we ever thank you?

On another note, Tim is progressing so quickly that he could be moved to the rehab hospital (looks like Spaulding, fingers crossed) as soon as Friday. Stay tuned.

August 13, 2007
Tim was moved this afternoon to the seventh floor of the White Building. This is a big, fantastic day. It is also our mom's birthday, so it goes without saying that Tim gave her the best gift. Happy Birthday, Mom. Congratulations, Tim.See you, ICU. We can't say we will miss you, but we will never forget you. You and your nurses and doctors and machines and beeps and drugs and tubes and contraptions and crazy kinetic beds kept my brother alive and we owe you so much. You have been our home and Tim's for the last three and a half weeks. You have seen us at our worst and at our best. You have seen Tim at his weakest, and when he is recovered, however long that takes, we will bring Tim back for a visit, and you will see him at his strongest. Your nurses cried with us, reassured us, comforted us, and took care of Tim for us. Your doctors educated us, scared us, saved Tim for us, and humbled us. For everything, we thank you. Tim thanks you. We owe you.

August 12, 2007
I don't mean to brag, don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but I must say that I did have the honor of giving my brother his first official post-accident, post-op hug. He hugged back with his good arm. (You know you're banged up when a broken collar bone is on the same side as your "good arm.") It was quick and hopefully, for him, painless, but it was monumental to me. Then he hugged Andria (he put a little more umph into that one. . .) and dad, and our days were made. Then he had a day full of visits, and he was all for it. He's definitely less sleepy and spacy than he was yesterday, and his spirits are good. His nurse asked him where he was on a pain scale of 0 to 10, and he said he's at a 1. Could this really be his last night in the ICU? Stay tuned.

From our mom:
Tim had a better day today, however he's still not sleeping well during the nighttime hours. He's on his back and still has to be "log rolled" (so that his spine is not twisted) and he's lying right on the incision, so it's tender and he complains that his back hurts. He's running a fever (101.5 tonight when we left) again so they are talking about keeping him in ICU for another day. Now he's likely to go to the floor on Tuesday. They should be fitting him for a brace by tomorrow that will be ready later in the week. He had a full day of visitors and stayed awake quite a bit. But he's still polite and social and so lucky that he has the greatest friends anyone could want.

August 11, 2007
This will be a short report since Tim's been out of it most of the day, sleeping and letting those painkillers do their thing. He looks good. He's sore, of course, and heavily medicated, but he's upbeat and ready for the next chapter. He's kicking us out of his room pretty regularly so he can sleep. "Just give me 20 minutes," he'll say when he needs to sleep. "Then come wake me up." Austin and Jeff visited with Tim and Massie this morning, lifting his spirits. We found out he will probably "go to floor" -- meaning leave ICU -- on Monday at some point. Can't believe this phase of it is almost over. Last night's report from the surgeon, that was worth the wait.

August 10, 2007, 9 p.m.
Waiting. We are waiting. The surgery was supposed to start at 11 a.m., and his nurses got the call at about 10:30 to get Tim ready to travel to the OR. Then we waited with Tim, cool as can be, ready for his big day, napping in that bed. Soon, a chair, Tim! It was 1 p.m. by the time they actually came to take him down. So we waited. We went to the cafeteria and we ate and we
waited. Little did we know that Tim, too, was waiting. Tim, in fact, waited outside that OR for hours. We found out around 6:30 that Tim didn't get into the OR until about 4:20 because another, more immediate trauma took precedence. We hunker down for a longer-than expected night and order some pizza. We have the waiting room all too ourselves. We've dimmed the lights, put on the Sox game, and asked for some blankets. It's the best we could do. We wait.

9:30 p.m.
Erin Sullivan, the hospital's operations manager and the daughter of dad's boss, goes out of her way for the second time tonight to visit us and let us know how things are going. She tells us they have finished putting the hardware in Tim's back and are working on X-rays and closing him up. It could be another hour and a half to two hours before he is done. He is handling the surgery well, she said. We are relieved. We eat our pizza.

Massie and Andria play napkin basketball. Dad's the coach, the ref, and the mascot in one. Andria just sunk one. The crowd cheers. Mom reads InTouch, then shares with Linda. The Orioles tie the game, Hans massages his brow. Eileen tries to find a comfortable position for sleep, snuggled under a blanket. The fish are unfazed. We wait.

10:33 p.m.
The Sox lose. I'm reminded of Tim sticking out his tongue at that IV pole.

10:37 p.m.
Dad reenters the room after having left minutes ago looking mischievous. He returns with an inflated latex glove. He puts it behind Eileen's head. A pillow to help her nap. We wait.

11:47 p.m.
Dr. Aghi just left. Tim's surgery went well. We're digesting everything he told us, but here are some highlights: "a bad injury, but not horrific"; Tim's spinal cord was bruised, not severed, leaving "the door open" to good outcomes with future therapies and experimental treatment; bone was taken from his hip to help with the fusion of the rods to the bone; and Tim handled the surgery well. We haven't seen him yet, he's still asleep. We will go home soon and sleep ourselves, tonight with smiles on our faces.

August 9, 2007
From our dad, the blogger:
Surgical Intensive Care Unit waiting room, Ellison Building, 4th Floor Sounds impressive! Looks good! Nice saltwater tropical fish tank. Very tranquil and mellow. That's until the Morris family and Tim's friends took it over three weeks ago. Family, food, prayers, conversation. Sharing the small victories. First smile, first laugh, first words.

We have met some other great families here, talking through the damage, the prognosis, and the high hopes. Wishing each other well for each surgery, sharing food and high hopes. Some have moved on to the eighth floor, no longer needing intensive care. Up there doing therapy, healing, growing stronger. We can't wait to get there. They come down from above to check on Tim. They come from all over. Vermont, Rhode Island, New York. Christmas card friends forever. Best wishes to all.

The doctors and nurses have been great. Tim's heroes. He is so polite and grateful to them. So are we in the waiting room. We wait for positive words. We wait. We wait.

The fish get boring. They need something to shake them up. Maybe a barracuda would supply some excitement? I've been here way too long! Going crazy, getting impatient. We all want the back surgery over.

Tim's better. He's talking, he wants the surgery over, too. What a guy. He's a fighter. He will beat this if anyone can. Tim appreciates the love, the prayers, and the support he receives. Always asking who's here and how everybody is doing. He wants to see everyone. He cares how they are doing, how they feel. He's waiting too, like the fish.

Medical update:
As we say in the news business, this just in: Green light for the surgery! Friday, 11 a.m., all the top neurosurgeons are involved. They say it may not be a full 10 hours, and they will come out and talk to us even before Tim's in recovery. They say the part of the back that Tim broke - T4 and T5 - heals the best. This is big! This is progress! Then one more day in the ICU after the surgery before Tim moves on up to a different floor and then doesn't stop moving on and moving up and moving forward. Tim, we love you.

Note from Massie:
When I saw Tim today we were all just talking, small talk basicly, keeping it light for the big day tomorrow. Anyways, he wanted some music so we turned the CD player on for him and Kanye West's new song "Stronger" was playing. Seemed fitting for Tim and the type of man he is. The main lyric in the hook sealed it...

'That that does not kill me
can only make me stronger'.

Thats the anthem Timmy. See you tomorrow.

August 8, 2007
Tim's talking more but he's completely loo-loo with the pain meds he is self-administering with that little thumb buzzer. He's actually quite hilarious when he's all doped up, but also so damn polite. A nurse he likes came in to help suction out his throat, and when he left Tim looked at me and said, groggily, "I really appreciate that guy." He fights sleep even when he can barely keep his eyes open because he doesn't want you to feel like you have to leave. We said, "Tim, you want us to go get some lunch so you can sleep a little?" And so sweetly he looked over at us and said, "Do you mind?"

So far, surgery is still on for Friday. (How many times have I written that before?)

August 7, 2007
Some big news from today: Tim warmed up for his big back surgery with his hand surgery today, and it went pretty well, though he's in some pain tonight. The good thing is it's out of the way, and hopefully he'll be a little less nervous about the back surgery now that he knows what to expect: take a nap, wake up, be sore, take drugs, recover.

The good news from today: WE HEARD TIM'S VOICE! FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WEEKS! I cried. I wasn't alone. Oh man. I hadn't realized how much I missed his voice. They put a valve on his trach for several hours when he was off the ventilator, and it allowed him to talk. It was awesome. It was tiring for him, and kind of uncomfortable, but he was great and talked for us
anyway, and what a treat that was.

Note from Chris Massie: Pretty funny tonight when I visited him. Tim was mouthing something and it took a minute for me to figure it out but it ended up that he wanted pizza. He is also pumped that Willy Mo cleared wavers but also worried about the Celtics 4 -12 spots. Same old Tim.

August 6, 2007
To help him pass the time in that bed, we printed out the 22 pages of the beautiful tributes and messages to him that everyone has posted in the "Timmy is... " section. Not to embarrass him, but he was moved to tears. It's clear from the look on his face that some depression is kicking in, and knowing you all are out there thinking of him means everything. I can't thank you enough. He needs you and needs to be reminded that above all, as is evident in everything people wrote, what we love most about him is his nature, his smile, his compassion, his easygoing style, his warmth, and his spirit, and all of those are as intact as ever. The rest will heal.

Medically, while he waits patiently for tomorrow's hand surgery and Friday's back surgery, Tim's fighting headaches. He hit his head hard, for sure, but coming off all that medication can't be easy, either. They give
him Tylenol for his headaches, and that seems to help somewhat, at least for a while. The fever remains in check. His shoulders hurt and he's uncomfortable. But by the end of today he will have spent a full 6 hours completely breathing on his own (they increase the amount of time he is off the ventilator each day), which is quite a workout for someone with badly bruised lungs and broken ribs who has been on a vent for two and a half weeks. Workouts, though, as we all know by now, Tim can handle.

August 5, 2007
That pesky fever appears officially gone. Mom was very happy to see the "98.6" there up on the monitor. Hand surgery is Tuesday and back surgery is Friday. Tim is definitely bored with being in that bed, sick of that uncomfortable collar holding his neck still, and really eager to get going, get better, and get home. Still, he's polite as can be to the nurses and doctors, waves when people come in to empty the trash or mop up his floor, and actually thanks the various people who are caring for him, even if they mare just there to give him a shot in the arm. He's nothing if not a classy guy.

Despite the wrist cuff and broken collar bone, he's getting better at writing on this dry erase board our sister Eileen picked up for him.Today I learned that he's not a fan of that "Sox Appeal" show. He shook his head in mild disgust. But we learned he IS a fan of the Cartoon Network. He had it on when we got there this morning and admitted he put it on. Hey, Timmy, whatever gets you through, buddy. Even if it's "Scooby Doo." We'll never tell.

August 4, 2007
Just a quick update from today: Tim had a good day, was in a good mood, and entertained a lot of visitors. He wanted them to keep on coming, but was beat by the end. It appears surgery on his back is scheduled for the
end of this week, and surgery on his hand is scheduled for Tuesday. Of course, as we know all too well now, these things aren't set in stone. But he looks great. I'm sure there were a million highlights of the day, depending on who you talk to, but here's mine: Grammy scooting around the bed with her cane to see Tim for the first time since the accident, tearing up and kissing his hand, and Tim pulling her hand to his lips -- despite the pain of that broken collar bone -- and kissing her back. It made her laugh and cry at the same time, and I'm pretty sure made her year. Way to go, Timmy.

August 3, 2007
What a difference two weeks makes. Though it is frustrating that the back surgery keeps getting postponed, when you take a step back and look at the big picture, it's just amazing what Tim has overcome in just a short amount of time. Two weeks ago what we knew was Tim had a head injury, bruised lungs, broken bones, broken spine. We knew the first 72 hours were the most critical and we knew we were lucky he survived the crash. Fast forward to today, as we celebrate that his lungs are getting stronger by the minute, his mind is clear, his body is healing, and he made major progress in getting over the hurdle standing in the way of the back surgery. That second collection of blood in his chest cavity cleared overnight, and the fever is out of the triple digits. Life is good -- much better than it was two weeks ago.

So the back surgery is still day to day, but it feels imminent. And his hand surgery will likely happen this weekend, we're told, barring any emergencies that will take precedence over Tim. (That's another difference from two weeks ago -- he used to BE the emergency. Now others are in far more danger.)

Tim, we're in awe of you. You're our hero, overcoming towering obstacles, and smiling while you do it. Keep it coming.

August 2, 2007
The back surgery is off for Friday. They are still draining that spot outside Tim's lung. It looks like there was more progress today on that front, and Tim is almost completely weened off the ventilator. We found out that Tim will get his hand operated on this weekend to fix two breaks, a step we were worried about since Tim will certainly need his hands to be in good shape to regain all that upper body strength during rehab. That will be a relief to get that fixed. Plus, he hates the splint. He looks at his hand and rolls his eyes, as if he can't even believe it's a part of his body.

As for his mood, it's pretty good. He was awake for a lot of the day, and spent a good part of it being exasperated with us as we tried and failed -- miserably -- to read his lips. OK, we admit it. We suck. Just ask Tim. Thankfully it shouldn't be a problem too much longer, as he is almost completely off that ventilator...

August 1, 2007
Sorry to be so late with this posting, but it was a late night at the hospital yesterday. Tim had a procedure yesterday afternoon that took several hours, unexpectedly. But there was a pretty good outcome. They used X-rays to pinpoint the two pockets of collected blood in Tim's chest cavity that are potentially infected and holding up the back surgery. They were able to figure out exactly where the blood was and went in with small catheters in an attempt to clear the blood. They had immediate success with one of the pockets and were hoping that overnight the other pocket would begin to release. Hopefully this will move things along. At the very least, we got half of it out of there. There is still a chance they would have to do a more invasive surgery to go in and get the rest, but his doctors (and his family) were hoping to avoid that because it would require a bigger incision and recovery time. We should find out today if it worked and what will happen next. They haven't told us specifically, but the back surgery scheduled for Friday may be pushed back again. As his doctors have told us many times, sometimes you have to take two steps back just to take one step forward.

Despite this, Tim's spirits are pretty high. He was zonked most of the day yesterday, but he was alert when he finally got back from his procedure, and was as smiley and affectionate as ever. When he's like that, we leave the hospital on a high. Tim is truly a trouper.

July 31, 2007
We had a great day with Tim. He's even more aware than yesterday. He was cracking us up, sticking his tongue out at the IV stand next to his bed, rolling his eyes at all the beeps. HE WANTS OUT. He mouthed, "I just want to go home." And then, "I just want to go home RIGHT NOW." He's asking more about the accident. He says he does not remember it. He's so smart about all this stuff that he wrote on a piece of paper for his nurse (whom we LOVE) "lung process" -- as in: What is the healing process?

Tim, you're amazing. So smart, so funny, so many things. Thanks for making us laugh when we need it the most.

I told him Frank and Justin, who were in the car with him, were OK and that Justin was the one to call 911 and save his life. Tim began tear up. He mouthed, "He's a good friend." Tim has not cried for himself.

They began to try to break up that blood that's just sitting there in his chest cavity that is possibly causing the fever and holding up the back surgery. They put a medicine in there to help break it up. Pray it works. We can't wait to get this back surgery behind us.

People we don't even know and who don't even know Tim have reached out to us with cards and letters and kind words. Do you know how much this means to us? I can't even begin to describe it. I'm humbled. Thank you. From Tim and from all of us.

July 30, 2007
So it turns out that not being able to talk is really, really frustrating. You can just see it on his face. We stand there trying to guess what he's saying when Tim mouths his words, and he just smiles, shrugs, and does that "forget about it" hand wave. It's cute, but we know it's got to be so irritating to be trapped in your head like that.

He cracked us up a couple times today. I'm happy to report Tim did not lose his sense of humor in the crash. His nurse said yesterday that when she was ragging on a fellow nurse by Tim's bedside, saying "no shit" when the other nurse said something obvious, Tim just started laughing and smiling. Thought it was hilarious.

I sat by his bed today and just wrote in my little book and the lights were off. He was going in and out of sleep, but he'd look over and smile and I'd say, "You tired?" He'd nod yes. "You want me to leave?" He'd shake his head no. "You want me to just sit here and not talk to you and let you sleep?" And he'd nod yes. He's tired, frustrated by that trach, irritated by the hand splint, but still calm and funny and typical Tim.

Medically, not much new to report. They are trying to figure out how to clear some stuff out of his chest, but it seems the surgery is still on track for Friday. Fingers crossed for that. Can't wait to get this behind us.

Also, just want to let everyone know in case you are thinking about combing the crash site for Tim's license...we found it. The police had it all along.

July 29, 2007
From our dad:

The best day yet. What courage! Tim is amazing. He knows that he is broken. He knows that he needs a back operation. He knows better than anyone because of his training and degree what is in front of him. Yet, he smiles, mouths words, he entertains. Tim does it for his family and friends to make them feel better . . . to help their healing process.

What courage! What caring. All the prayers and support are wonderful. Tim and his family appreciate all the support and positive thoughts.

As his father, I'm so proud of his progress, his attitude, and his determination. I'm in awe of his mindset. The doctors marvel at his progress. He has come so far with such a positive attitude that everyone is delighted. What a leader. He's like a freight train. You just want to get on board and follow his example. He is my hero. I'm so proud of him. What courage, my son.

On his condition:
Tim is mostly breathing on his own today and is out of that torture chamber bed! Coming in to see this this morning made for a great day. He's still on the ventilator but is doing most of the work himself. The machine now is in assist mode, there if he needs it. But he's taking much deeper breaths on his own now that he's less sedated, so that is actually helping his lungs
heal. He looks so good. He's like a new man in that new bed.

The new bed still rocks ever so gently that you can't even see it. It shifts his weight to continue to help his lungs and take pressure off parts of his body. It still holds his spine immobile, but it's a ton more comfortable looking. It's as if overnight, Timmy's lungs made great progress. The new antibiotics really seem to be helping.

The surgery is now set for Friday. Hopefully, it's the last time they push it back. The up side is that his ribs will have that much more time to heal before the 10-hour operation.

I want to thank Jeff, Josh, and Mike for visiting today. Though they couldn't get in to see him, Tim knew they were out there and was all smiles and thumb's up. His Lion's Den and QU friends are -- I'm not sure he'd use
this word, exactly -- but they are precious to him. Thank you guys for loving my brother so much. You will help him get through this.

Also, thank you, Red Sox, for winning last night (Tim was watching, we found out today!). It was a long, hard fight, but you persevered and rallied and won big in the end, and I can't help think that that's what Tim will do, too.

July 28, 2007
Tim is more and more expressive. When he's awake, he smiles and puckers his lips to kiss. It's wonderful to see. It really is. It melts your heart.

He's also more curious about the extent of his injuries. He understands where he is, that he's been in an accident, that he broke his back and needs surgery. Who knows what he remembers day to day, but we think he does remember, and is slowly coming to terms with things. This will be a long process. And this is the part that breaks your heart.

It's still day to day on the surgery. Still, the fever is the issue. It's hard to believe that with all that Tim has conquered in the last week and two days that a fever would be the hang-up, but that's just the way it is. Stupid fever.

When I left him tonight, his nurse, Barbara, said, "Does your brother like the Sox?" I said, "Are you kidding?" So she turned on the game, and though Tim was asleep, I knew he'd be listening in, pleased to hear something beloved and familiar in the background.

So please win, Red Sox. For Timmy.

July 27, 2007
Tim's surgery was rescheduled for Monday, but that is still in flux because of the fever. They want him to be fever-free for 48 hours before surgery, which means by tomorrow (Saturday) we need to get it under control. In an effort to figure out where it is coming from, his team of doctors went so far as to call in people from the infectious disease department. They want a new set of eyes on Tim to get to a possible source of the fever. It could be he's fighting infection, or it could just be a result of the trauma They say just like when you bruise yourself, your skin in that spot is warm, Tim could be experiencing that 100-fold.

It is so nice to see him today without all those tubes in his mouth. He's handsome as ever. He really is. He woke up earlier today when my Dad and I were in with him. He's groggy when this happens, and easily slips back to sleep, but he knew we were there, and he was trying to lift his head, struggling to reach out to us. He was mouthing words we couldn't make out, but we told him he was going to be OK, he's at Mass. General, he's been in an accident, and it's going to be OK. He nodded and looked at us with those beautiful blue eyes. He's in there and he wants out so badly. We told him we loved him. He nodded. He knows it. We all love him.

Big Step Forward:
Tim gave everyone visiting him a treat this afternoon when he was alert for a long time, giving knucks, holding hands, blowing kisses, saying "I love you," asking questions, reacting to teases, delighting everyone in the room. Oh Tim, keep this up. We need that. Such a treat.

July 26, 2007
Right now Tim's in getting a feeding tube and tracheotomy. (Tracheostomy? That seems to be how they say it.) They do it bedside. He's completely under. He will be so much more comfortable without all those tubes. So far, still on track for the Saturday surgery. We're meeting with his neurosurgeon tonight. They do seem to think he has a touch of pneumonia, which is to be expected with him being on the ventilator. He's on antibiotics to fight it. They don't seem too worried about it. Also, it's been almost a week since the accident and the bruises are starting to show. He looks less swollen, but a little more bruised. It's OK, all a part of getting better.

We're looking for Timmy's driver's license. The crazy kid didn't carry a wallet, no matter how many times friends nagged him about it. If anyone has any ideas about where it could be, we'd like to hear them. It's not in the Jeep. My dad went today. We don't think it's at the accident site, as friends have looked, but maybe it's been overlooked? It wasn't with his debit cards, which the police found and gave my mom. We know he must've had it with him that night. If anyone has it or knows where it might be, please let us know. Thank you. Thank you for everything.

July 25, 2007
Tim continues to rest comfortably today, sedated most of the time so he doesn't get agitated or try to rip out those tubes. His fever's down and we're on track for surgery on Saturday. His face looks so much better, the swelling's gone down and the scrapes are scabbing over. He's so muscular, he looks so beefy in that bed. My dad keeps saying, "This is my little boy, but this is also a man lying here." Those muscles, all those hours Tim spent in the gym, they'll help him in this fight. They have already saved his life. They have also impressed his nurses . . .

His nurses. I can't say enough about those nurses. They're getting to know him, getting a feel for the kind of person he is. They are compassionate and kind and the best in their field. We are so grateful to them. We know how blessed we are to be in their ICU. Thank you for taking such care of my brother. Thank you so, so much.

Also, thank you for all those entries in the "Timmy is . . ." section of this site. We read those and we are overwhelmed by what Tim brings out in people, how much he means to them. When he sees those, he will know he will never be alone, not a day in his life. Thank you from all of us.

July 24, 2007
Today Timmy's quite sleepy. He's continuing to fight the fever and doing well with that, but his surgery will be pushed back until it's under control. Not sure when that will be. He's on new, stronger antibiotics, and different pain medications, as well as medications to help with
anxiety. The good news is that one of his lungs is completely clear and the other is getting there. The doctors were really pleased with this. Also, his
brain scans are great, no change, which means in the long run, his head injury won't be any worse than if he had gotten a concussion. All his other organs are in great shape. And his lungs are on their way back. He's doing fantastic. And we brought in a CD player and some of his favorite music, so he's in there chilling out, being cradled in a rocking bed.

(A note from last night: Saying goodnight to him, he was stirred by my Dad's voice. His eyes opened, he locked them on each of us, and tears came to
his eyes. He quickly calmed down, but the thing is, he's OK. That's Tim in there. Scared, maybe. Confused. But it's Timmy, and that's the best news of all.)

So it's a good day. We'll keep you posted.
Sleep well, Timmy. We love you, buddy.

July 23, 2007
Hi. This is day four, and Timmy's doing well. He's running a fever, but they are bringing it down with antibiotics. They are treating it as early pneumonia, catching it early and saying it won't affect his surgery date.

He's scheduled for back surgery to stabilize his spine on Wednesday. This matters because until the surgery, we won't know the extent of his injury and he has to remain in this freaky bed that rocks side to side, bracing his
spine while also clearing out his lungs. His lungs are still the main concern. We need him breathing on his own before the surgery. They sustained incredible trauma, as he broke multiple ribs and bruised them badly.

My dad had a great moment with him this morning, since he got here first and was there with him when the doctors came around to do their rounds. They lowered Timmy's sedation, and Dad and Tim shared a true moment -- Timmy opened his eyes, kept them on his Dad as the bed continued to rock, and adjusted my Dad's grip on his hand to a more manly position. He smiled at my Dad. My dad melted.

So more good news, Timmy made it past the critical 72 hours, when the swelling peaks. This brother of mine is a fighter, as we all know. He's already beat the odds, and no doubt will continue to do so.