Gabe draws winning Maietta ticket!

Back in September, bicycle builder Anthony Maietta had the idea to raffle off one of his custom-built beauties to benefit Gabe’s medical flight back home to the East Coast. The ball got rolling in November and mail started poured in. Maine, New York, Kansas, Rhode Island, California, Washington, Colorado, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts….all over. When the raffle ended on Tuesday, December 15, we counted over 700 tickets.

It took four days to collect them from their corners of the country, then Gabe was ready to draw one single ticket…

You can watch the video here. Tony gets a call announcing the winner……

Jarrett Shambian! Hailing from New York City, he is a devoted cyclist, bike polo player, and is generously making the prize a gift to his sweet, lovely lady. A very large THANK YOU is paid to each and every one of you who contributed–whether it was to win the bike or simply to make a donation.  A gigantic chunk of change off the expected billing for the air ambulance we will take very soon. Because so many of you have paid such devoted attention to the raffle as it has progressed, Tony will update his blog and website with photographs of the bike being built, painted, and hopefully its display at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show (NABHS) in February 2010.

A brief side note, Gabe is doing wondefully and is showing new progress in the last two weeks. He is helping to get himself dressed, assisting more readily in grooming, physically participating in activities like games and reading and physical exertion in the PT gym. On Saturday, Day 114, he initiated wanting to leave his room by grabbing hold of his wheelchair wheel and pushing himself forward. He moved 15 feet on his own. A few days before that, he sat on a stationary bike and made full revolutions of the pedals by powering his right leg. His comprehension, memory, and increased effort to communicate reveals to us that Gabe is not a brain injury patient who will have 180-degree change in personality. Last night, Donna and I asked what video-editing program he had on his computer and he spelled out, F-I-N-A-L-C….

“Final Cut Pro?” we asked, and he signalled YES. He understands what state we are in and why, the calendar, the spelling of words, and he is beginning to gesture to tell us what he wants. Two nights ago, in regard to my going away for two weeks to visit family, he motioned “call me” without any prompts or ques. He is beginning to mouth words readily, and we can pick out the Ff and Pp and number of syllables flowing out. His will to speak also promises less of us interpreting his needs and desires through our observation and intuition.  Increased mouth, lip, and tongue movement means the trach will be out sooner rather than later because he’s using those same muscles to swallow. And right now he has nothing more tempting than pancakes, home fries, and of course, cupcakes to spur him on. In fact, Gabe passed two swallowing tests two weeks ago and this past Friday enjoyed two ounces of orange juice! He held and dipped the spoon himself.

There is a lot more to share, and I know just the woman to do it. Please check back in the next week for a holiday post and more good stories shared about the Madd Fajita. Much love, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year,

-Kierie.

2009.12.21 / no responses / Author: Kierie

Gabe says, “Get me home!”

Hey. The Madd Fajita is jonesing for some East Coast vibes. Time to get the fella home soon. The wicked ill MAIETTA Bike Raffle ends December 15, so you have 11 days to send a check made out to the GABE ALLEN FUND (mail to: Summer Allen, c/o Winterport Boot Shop, ATTN MAIETTA RAFFLE, 264 State Street, Brewer, MAINE 04412) OR pick up a ticket from one of the bike shop closest to you:

• Continuum Cycles – New York, NY
• Bike Works – New York, NY
• Rose Bicycle – Orono, Maine
• Pat’s Bike Shop – Brewer, Maine
• Winterport Boot Shop – Brewer, Maine
• Paradigm Cycles – San Anselmo, CA
• Sunshine Bicycle – Fairfax, CA
• West Marin Pharmacy – Point Reyes, CA
• Box Dog Bikes – San Francisco, CA
• Mike’s Bikes – San Francisco, CA
• Community Bike – Boston, MA
• Back Bay Bicycles – Boston, MA

So the question is, where exactly is Gabe going and when is he going? After extensive research and trips to several of acute rehab hospitals, we whittled it down from 12 to 6 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1. Nothing in stone yet, but our first choice is in Boston. It’s almost a sure thing Gabe’ll get there, but wise is the saying, Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. And that’s all you get until we’re safely there and settled in. But here’s a fun fact! Did you know Gabe’s favorite animal is a chicken? Yes, it’s true.

And as to when we leave, that’s a gooooood question. Gabe is making fan-tabulous progress, but he’s not ready for aggressive, accelerated therapy sessions just yet. He’s maxxing out at 2-3 planned therapy hours a day, and needs to be enduring 3-6 before he moves on to acute rehab. To be honest, there’s no doubt he gets 6 hours a day because Donna and I work a lot with him. We’re reading, holding pencils and crayons to practice writing (he’s good at Xs), shooting hoops with beanbags, playing dominos, fitting pegs into a pegboard, boppin’ a balloon back and forth, doing oral motor and sentence completion exercises to gear up the tongue and mouth muscles for speech, helping with grooming and getting dressed…whatever he needs we’re there and asking him to play an active role by participating. He obliges willingly. Every activity contributes to greater dexterity and strength, and lengthens his attention span. Because he’s constantly changing, so is the forecast on how much longer we’re here. G’s evaluated by his medical and rehab team and they recalculate the number of weeks remaining on his length of stay before he’s ready for acute rehab.

Hope this throws a lil light on why we’re still in California. And hey! Go get your MAIETTA ticket! 100% funds go to his +$20K med flight back East!

-Kierie

2009.12.04 / no responses / Author: Kierie

Happy Thanksgiving

With a title like that, you can guess what this post is about.

It’s 100 days post-accident and boggling to think of where Gabe’s been and where he’s at now. The outlook was so positively bad that there was nothing more to do but throw all hopes in the pot and hold tight to the lid. In this short of time though, he’s overturned professional medical opinion and is defying the odds against his recovery. Part of me says, “Yeah, of course this is where we are today,” while another thinks, Wow, we’ve come soo far.

How do we foresee the future, immediate and distant?  how do we plan to get there? There’s really no way to sketch out a detailed map, and I’m talking map as in what’s going to happen in the next week, next month, next year. I think we each have a different drama unfolding in our minds. But Gabe’s the guide and we’re marking down Points of Interest along the way. For instance, he’s been “drinking” coffee the last two weeks. If any of you ever met up for the morning coffee ride to 9th Street or sat with him outside Gorilla for 2-hour increments or shared a cup of joe with him anywhere else, you know he’s darn pleased to be getting that a.m. jolt. It’s impacted his alertness and participation in speech therapy: his stamina is longer and attention focused to answer cognitive questions in a concentrated 30-minute period, from the relationship between objects and people, to signs coded within language.

Another Landmark is successful sleeping throughout the night and our established morning routine: face wash, teeth brushed, head wash/massage, with a shave every other day, then open up the day planner, look at the calendar, cross off yesterday’s date, and key into where we are (hospital room in California and why we are here). What’s cool about each of these activities is that he’s helping do everything. He’s taking over more, putting fat Xs through the date and pulling the washcloth across his brow. The joy is so sweet when he reaches out to do something himself, initiating on his own without prompt or cue. His endurance is building. G’s been boosted up to a straight hour of physical therapy, which will prep him for the kind of sessions he’ll receive at the acute rehab hospital. And to think he couldn’t push through even half of a 30-minute session six weeks ago!

Some more gloss: for the last couple of weeks, Gabe has been having private phone conversations. Yeah, they’re kind of one-sided so the caller must be armed with stories. His hand poises the phone beside his ear and he listens intently. On a friend’s birthday last week, he mouthed “hi” to her and then, “happy birthday.” Once the speaker is done talking and says goodbye, he passes the phone back. No prompt needed.

Talk about no prompt needed, this past Monday (Day 104) we were hanging out in the OT clinic and Gabe’s eyes widened and he pointed to the stationary hand-cycling machine on the table. After I set it up, he got three full and unassisted revolutions, powered primarily by his right arm. His left arm was in place, but he has more healing to do before he begins moving volitionally. He DOES move his left side, but it’s reflexive—like when he wakes up his fingers stretch out, or his foot flips around when he’s tickled. But it’ll come. We’re sure of it.

Going back to that uncertainty mentioned a coupla paragraphs ago, existing in the unknown is a lot less uninviting when we think about existing in the moment. I think a lot about Donna and me, our togetherness in the daily-evolving scenario of being with Gabe and managing our own trajectories. We have a good home, just two miles up the road from the hospital. Our pantry is well stocked. Yesterday, fresh zucchini bread appeared on the kitchen counter. We have a car, generously lent by the Mowen family, and my bike to get us to and fro. The sweet town we’re in has a great public library. The hospital cafeteria food is actually pretty good. Though Mike and Summer are far away, their fingers are on the pulse and we’re all united on questions or issues.What a gift it is to be accepted by and welcomed by such a great family like the Allens. Every day, friends and strangers send encouraging messages. Many offer up a house, a meal, advice in small and big ways. And as each day passes, Gabe’s communicating more about what he wants, what he needs, and our intuition of those things grow. There’s a freak ton to be thankful for this year.

-Kierie

p.s. here are some fun, outside links for everyone:

• Want to know more about Gabe? Check out the blog he’s had the last few years: www.maddfajita.com
• Interested in what we do aside from kick it wtih G-Star all day? Read this.
• Radio programming to stimulate your brain: www.radiolab.org. We recommend the “Memory,” “Numbers,” and “Laughter” episodes.
• MAIETTA HANDBUILT BICYCLES is raffling off a custom-built bike for Gabe’s flight East.
• Awesome co-op bike shop in SF blogs about Gabe: www.boxdogbikes.com

p.p.s. Here is a picture of Gabe and Donna on Thanksgiving. As you can tell, he’s eyeing the sparkling apple cider. I went into the OT clinic and cleared off the big wood table of its equipment and games; Donna had the bright idea of adding a white “tablecloth.” We all sat together there as the sun streamed in, and dined on our T-giving meal, enjoying each other’s company. Gabe unfortunately wasn’t able to eat with us (remember, he has a trach tube and on a PEG feeding line), but it means he gets double helpings next year.

2009.11.27 / no responses / Author: Kierie

The Three-Month Mark

Last Friday marked three months. As in Day 93. Two Thursdays ago was 12 weeks. Want to know the date for Day 100? November 19. That’ll be 14 weeks. Don’t ask about hours unless you want to see therapy schedules and read clinical notes. Care to know the day he woke up? The date his friends emptied his apartment? When he was taken off the ventilator? The day he started what drug when and how much of it? The time he crashed?

Facts thrown like pebbles on a path to be retraced later on; all details written down. And here we are, three months. It feels like something special should be shared to mark it, or perhaps a new theme procured. The only one really around though is that Gabe is just getting better. Change in his behaviors is evident in a matter of days, always evolving.  Below are some stories of getting of how his progress manifests, as well as two pictures.

It’s afternoon of Day 86 and we’re in the OT clinic after a therapy. Donna comes in, peeks in at some of the games/puzzles/toys kept in the three closets, and emerges with a set of dominos. We start out with a 1:2 and a 2:5. He connects those and then picks up a 3:5. Next he pulls a 1:6 and he puts that down. Four pieces connected, and three days later, he’s connected five and we play a game of Go Fish. It takes 15 minutes to play with 10 cards, but we play.

On Day 88, Donna and I wheeled Gabe out to the parking lot so I could ride my bike around for him. I did some figure-8s, then pulled up alongside and he immediately took the right drop with his right hand. I asked him different bike parts and he touched each one. Headset. Top Tube. Drop bar. When I asked him where the brake was. In my mind I thought, “brake lever” but said “brake.” Gabe heard “brake”, thought brake, and pointed to the actual brake. He dropped his hand below the headset and head tube and grasped the brake itself. Oh! I said aloud, “I meant brake lever!” In response he raised his hand and not only touched the brake lever, he pulled it.

For the last 3 weeks, he’s consistently responding to us, to questions, to requests; we’ve adjusted our behavior by offering a choice in our words. Something like, “Do you want to do your Speech homework?” and asking for a yes/no response, or through an activity board (essentially a matrix with different items he can select, i.e. “I’m tired,” or “Bed” to get back in bed). Last week, Days 96 and 97, a thought we were taking a step back, a fluctuation in cognitive recovery (to be expected). The entire day there was frustration written in his features. A downturned mouth. A furrowed brow. His answers were not consistent or did not come at all; there was an abundance of mumbled lip movement. That night I realized, “Whoa! Maybe he’s sick of communicating yes/no through his fingers.” True enough, he confirmed it the next day and since there is more action from his lips. Gabe isn’t at a point where we can read his words at all times, but a simple yes, no, good are discernible, as well as the answers to the auto-completion sentences he’s given by his speech therapists (i.e. “What do you put over your eyes to protect from the sun?” Sunglasses.”

Another integral part to offering him a choice between two things, is also giving him time to do something himself. He can put a toothbrush in his mouth, switch sides, and remove it to place in our hands. It just may take 5-8 minutes. It’s so easy to take control and get it done for him, but certainly that’s not enabling him to relearn it himself. So he receives watchful assistance as he rebuilds everyday activities we all do.

On Day 99, he and I had a wicked thumb war. The air smelt of brimstone as we battled that day. I pulled no punches. His thumb was lightening quick. Our arms tangled back and forth across the table. My thumb, puny beside his, was crushed twice and “Uncle!” was cried out.  Later, the arm wrestle was a draw.

Last week a lot of attention was paid toward that right arm and improving its range of motion. A new exercise crossed with speech and occupational therapy was invented, in which a 3- or 4-letter word is chosen, and each letter hung above his head. He looks up, and reaches up, up, up to take it and place it on his lap. In a matter of six days, he went from lifting his elbow 4 inches off the bed to stretching his arm out completely above his head. Now that effort is being waylaid into reaching across his body to grasp the bed rail so he can learn to shift his weight.

Yesterday, I came across a bottle of bubbles at a local variety store. Before our nightly reading, he signals “Yes,” when asked if he wants to see them now or tomorrow. As they fly across his chest and lap toward his feet, he reaches for them, catching the bubbles as they float. Quick rapid movements, like his thub darting back and forth during a thumb war. He takes the wand and holds it just right. He purses his lips in a perfect O and I blow through the wand. As you can guess, his trach tube is still in place. He alternately passes and fails blue dye tests, however he’s improving in his ability to swallow and it’s typical for a patient to have it beyond two to six months. The oral motor exercises given by speech therapy train his tongue for better control of saliva and consistent swallowing, so we keep working at those twice a day this past week. If you remind yourself that he has to retrain every muscle in his body, it’s pretty fantastic that in those seven days he can lick his lips, teeth, and reach up for his nose and down to his chin.

Last story—since November 1 the calendar is taken down every morning. The day, date, and year is recited, and then he’s asked to point to it. Since the First, he’s gotten it right each time. On the Eleventh and Twelfth, he pointed to the right date without being told what it was! Last week he received a day planner, which breaks the day up into 30-minute segments. We write his therapy schedule in it, a couple of homework exercises to do, schedule a shave, plan on checking out some pictures on the computer. Stuff to organize his day, and the planner is helping him visualize it all. He’s now looking at the clock, and when told the time and asked to point out where that is in his planner, he does it with ease. A reminder is given each day of where he’s at, what state he’s in, and why he’s here. He understands he’s in a hospital, though the fact that we’re California is lost. That fact really isn’t important in the big picture. He knows who he is and who we are, and he recognizes faces and names that are important to him. He’s certainly still foggy, and his short-term memory is shaky. He certainly has a short attention span.  But we’re learning exercises to improve these facets, and we read the signs on when he needs rest and when he can keep up, keep participating. Gabe’s putting forth an effort that would squelch that belonging to any human being I’ve met. He’s exceeded all medical predictions in the doomsday and silvering lining categories.

2009.11.18 / 2 responses / Author: Kierie

Thanks to all

On behalf of Gabe I send thanks to all those that donated time, effort, assets, thoughts,music,smiles and even cupcakes to Gabes cause. All are important, and one is as important as the next.
In addition, the organizers and behind the scenes ,so to speak, people such as Laurel Coulter and PIE, Louis Littlefield of MY FORK PUB fame, BELS portrait for the great album, Phil Pitula for his musical and auctioneering skills, the bands of Nevah, Rising Tide & Anna Mae Mitchell, and Marilyn Does’ 4 cupcakes, if placed one on top of another would be 4 feet tall, would bring a smile to Gabe. Thanks again all. Mike the Dad

2009.11.09 / no responses / Author: Mike

Bring Gabe Back East! (a.k.a. The Maietta Raffle)

Design by the illustrious, the beautiful, and overly talented BrittLee Bowman

2009.11.08 / 1 response / Author: Kierie

aches and gains

Well where is Gabe physically these days? You can see by recent posts that Gabe is pointing, holding, reading, humorizing, raising his eyebrows, swallowing, thinking, looking, giving good hand signals for yes and no and thereby playing twenty questions. “Do you have a pain? “yes”. is it a headache, “no”, point to the pain, ah its your trach where the cover fits over it!!!! And all this time we thought he just liked to hold the trach moisturizing cover away from his trach opening for something to do!!! Aggh!

What has been the evolution physically? Well physically he has gone from a coma where his ever alert right hand was the only body part that was moving. Gotta trace along my hospital gown, along this strange tube , along this feeding line, this pillow case hem… Then a partially open left eye was added, next a partially open right eye, then frowns and raised eyebrows. Then right forearm and upper arm action along with right leg and foot and toes. His head was turned to the left, and only rarely would it turn to the right.

This was the extent of the Gabe field of play until he went to Kentfield. Then the movements got bigger and stronger and in response to challenge. His eyes open wide now. He turns his head to the right by himself and centers it on the pillow for as long as an hour. His lips move in the barest of mouthing of words. His right side is strong, his left side is barely moving but  getting ready to start the action any day.

His PT crew positions him almost daily at the standing frame where, with his lower legs and knees braced in padded supports and head and arms supported by the crew, his body is slowly levered into a standing position where his chest rests against another padded frame and his arms rest in elbow supports with his forearms extended to the front on a chest high mini-table. His firm right hand holds on strongly to the edge of the table. Everyone then says “Gee Gabe, how tall are you?”, because now he is well above us where he belongs.

Friday Gabe, one therapist, and myself were there at the standing frame and Gabe was struggling to hold his head up. Then came the challenge. The therapist said “Gabe, let’s see if you can better your 10 second record of holding your head up by yourself. Chin up Gabe. Look in my eyes!” As that meant Gabe would have to look down instead of up that was a slight problem until the therapist ran up the exercise steps to get to Gabe’s level three feet away. Gabe slowly raised his head and looked him in the eyes. Their eyes absolutely locked. Ten seconds, then 15, then 30, then 45. The challenge kept up and with constant encouragement, with me hardly daring to breathe. Sixty seconds, a minute 15 and finally a minute 30 seconds with Gabe’s head shaking from the effort. The challenger relaxed the bridge between them.

This is big. and today more like it. A first time sitting on the raised PT mat totally unsupported and for 15 long seconds. Head in control, nice lean to the side, propped on one elbow but totally on his own. Fifteen seconds. Now we all know what that means for tomorrow.

2009.11.02 / no responses / Author: Donna

Ready, Set, READ.

I thought I wrote something yesterday about sometimes seeing change within twenty-four hours. It must of been edited out while trying to stuff in every possible bit of news you’d like to hear. Here’s a good example of exactly what kind of change that is.

So before the accident, Gabe and I got into the habit of reading to each other. I discovered he’d usually look over my shoulder rather than off into space as I would have liked him to. I got used to it–one can’t argue with another’s way of imagining a plot unfold. Especially now, I position a book so he can see the words being read to him; in recent weeks, he observes the pages as they are peeled away. Last night in the mid-evening, one of the several books we’re working on comes out, and in the midst of Chapter the Eighth, I think: Can you point to the page I’m reading from?

In the middle of a page, at the end of a paragraph, I ask, “Fajita, what page are we on?” He points to the right one. Then, I reread the last sentence–”it was locked”–and ask if he can point to that. His finger moves two inches up to that exact phrase.

This is fantastic! I think, but to play it safe and be 100% sure, I decide to quiz again the next night. Fortunately I didn’t have to because today Speech Therapy introduced a similar, better exercise that tests his reading comprehension skills. The therapist held up a series of six placards, in which he was told to respond.

• Raise your eyebrows.
• Open your mouth.
• Move your hand.
• Move your foot.
• Close your eyes.
• Stick out your tongue.

He responded quickly to each one, save the last. The man is obviously brilliant even whilst nursing a traumatic brain injury, and perhaps too polite to stick his tongue out in the presence of three ladies.  For “move your hand,” he took the placard from the therapist. Standing at the foot of his bed, I hadn’t read it prior to it being held up, so asked to the air, “What does it say?” Gabe immediately turned it around for full viewing. “Oh! Thanks, Gabe!”

The man is reading. Reading gives way to writing and speaking. If you are not dumbfounded or haven’t yet pulled out a stamp, please review entire post.

-Kierie

2009.10.29 / 7 responses / Author: Kierie

Day 77 & counting.

Dear friends,

Today is Day 77 since the accident, and I keep hearing a word pop up:

• “What’s the damage to his brain look like now?”
• “Is damage going to inhibit him from talking?”
• “His brain was damaged from the accident.”

Damage means a change in something for the worse. It doesn’t convey the time warp G’s in right now. His forward progress defies its very meaning. What we’re talking about here is injury. At the scene of the accident, Gabe was completely unconscious and on death’s doorstep. At Day 3, he was intibated, on life support, and in a full-scale, unresponsive coma. Day 14 he auto-regulated his inter-cranial pressure and the invasive head monitors were removed. Seven days later he localized pain and was no longer considered in a coma, but a vegetative state. By Day 28 he was breathing on his own, moved out of the ICU, and weaning off painkillers. By Day 34 he began passive rehab therapies (occupational, physical, speech). And on Day 47, he awoke. In the past 10 days he’s been distinguishing letters, shapes, colors, and use of household objects. So stop thinking damage because he’s far from hitting his ceiling yet, and we’re looking at years before he does.

Now, what’s Gabe been up to? Is he bored? Does he talk? Is he standing up yet?

Monday through Friday Gabe has 3 active hours of rehab treatment—OT, PT, and speech. As of Day 67, Gabe is now fully weight-bearing and his pelvis fractures have healed 100%.  You can bet his physical therapist got him up right quick to assisted standing, kneeling, and sitting cross-legged. He does this three times a week for 10-15 minutes to relearn balance, establish equilibrium, and rebuild the 30 pounds of muscle he’s lost. PT is also developing his neck muscles and he’s holding his chin up pretty close to what you and I do every day. He’s doing this more often for longer periods of time. A reminder, his left side, from hand to foot, is still considerably weak. He can recover, he’s just going to have to work twice as hard on the left as he does on the right.

In terms of cognizance, he is more alert to his surroundings. He has greater focus and his attention shifts quickly. He is also responding commands consistently, which include:

• “Gabe, look at your calendar/letters/bike jersey on the wall.”
• Touch your nose/ears/left hand/knee/thigh/shoulder/chin/etc/etc/etc
• Cognitive awareness of objects (i.e. knows what to do with a comb, toothbrush, chapstick, electric shaver, moose)
• Cognitive choice between two objects (i.e. queens vs. brooklyn t-shirt or mishka t-shirt; book of animal stories or book on cycling

Speech therapy has the goals of establishing communication through speech and aggressively weaning him off the trach. Something really cool: Gabe is mouthing words. On Day 65, his doc asked him if his last name was Allen, and for the first time, he mouthed something in return! We were all surprised by that one, I think even Gabe was because his eyebrows popped up and his eyes widened. We explain to him that even though there isn’t sound and won’t be until the trach comes out, it’s totally cool to still move his mouth. Last Wednesday, Day 71, he mouthed “Hi, mom,” to Donna. Yesterday, he was asked to finish about seven sentences, like so:

• We can drive east or ____
• The elevator goes up or ____
• That invitation was sent to me and ____
• The door swings in and ____

He mouthed all but one of them! Today, objects were held up and he named each one, and showed how to use each (whistle, sunglasses, watch, butter knife, hammer, etc).  He moved to put his sunglasses on, and picked up the mirror to check himself out. When he realized the watch wouldn’t fit over his left hand, he slid it over mine and then helped to take it off.

Something else mighty cool are the foam letters Donna bought for him on Day 66. She had the bright idea of using Y for yes, and N for no. When a question is asked, he’ll respond by touching it or handing directly to whoever is asking. Keep in mind that his movements are still not fluid and graceful as yours and mine are; he’s still learning dexterity of his fingers. Gripping an object and letting go of it are difficult, operating on a 0-15 second delay. But it’s improved as he used to have a 10-20 second delay. You can imagine the patience one builds when working with him. On Day 71, I busted out the letters and laid out a blue E and red R and explained that we’d practice picking up and letting go of the letters, which would build to popsicles, cupcakes, and coffee cups. “Gabe, can you hand me the blue E?”

BOOM! He reached out for it, took it, and placed it in my hand. And this was the letter further from his grasp. I replaced the E and R with a yellow 6 and green 7. “What about the 6? Can you hand it to me?”

Sure thing, no problem. He hands me the 6. What was fascinating was that he not only distinguished the shapes of the numbers and letters, he did so despite whether or not I said the color.  I pulled the letters, D-O-G, mixed them up, and placed them in front of him. I spelled the word DOG, and he handed me the letters. After we spelt GABE. He did both with ease and his ability to release his grip is better. Donna and I do this with him every day, and every day we see a difference. We see control.

One last good story about Gabe’s awesomeness: last week on a reconnaissance trip to check out acute rehab hospitals, I raced in Prospect Park; despite coming in last out of the five women, I was still awarded a yellow Tour de France cap. When I returned I placed the cap in his left hand and he took it by the bill in his right and moved it up to his head. He got the front on, and I pulled it down in the back. He took the mirror offered up, but closed his eyes without looking. I turned to rummage through one of his drawers, and when I turned back he was checking himself out in the mirror. There’s a picture of that, and sometime soon I hope to share it with you all.

That’s a quick fell-swoop of what Gabe is up to. A good friend of Gabe’s recently wrote me after receiving an update:

I am amazed at the progress Gabe keeps making, then at the same time I am not b/c it seems so in line with the way he is.  I see it very much like I see him when he is racing at the track or during an alley cat.  He takes a smooth approach, never looks like he is exhausted, but keeps making steady progress.

It’s true. And the man is just revving the engine.

-Kierie

2009.10.27 / 2 responses / Author: Kierie

Two Upcoming Fundraisers in Winterport!

The fine community of Winterport is planning two events for Gabe’s benefit. Unless I am in San Francisco (which I don’t believe I will be) I will be there and would love to see folks come out for these! The community has been so wonderful to our family during this time and this is just another example of how supportive and kind people really are.

Thursday, November 5, 5-7pm

Benefit Smorgasboard Supper at Smith School

319 S. Main St. Winterport, ME

Contact Laurel Coulter to arrange a food donation: soups, salads, desserts, etc. Her e-mail is coulstet@aol.com, or phone is 223-4057.

Donations for Gabe’s fund will be accepted at the door!

And also:

Sunday, November 8, 1-4pm

My Fork Bar & Grill

44 Main St. Winterport, ME

Three local bands will be playing for Gabe’s benefit. $5 cover goes to his fund.

I also want to recognize the hard work of Ali Simonds, a friend of mine and Gabe’s from UMaine, who organized a pancake breakfast for Gabe in her current hometown of Austin, TX, on Sunday, October 11th. She tells me that even though people did not know him (yet!) they were very supportive and that it went really well–there were even new crews there! What great community-minded people there are in this world. Thanks to all of you who have been such a help through this.

xoxo

2009.10.13 / no responses / Author: Summer