18/09/2026
Some days are just… unusual. That’s the only way I can put it.
Today was one of those days.
I could see the fruition of all those years of hard work and development, and I could say, “This is why I am doing what I am doing!”
I wasn’t expecting a patient then. My doorbell rang, and I opened the door.
There was a man standing there.
At first, I didn’t recognise him because he had changed so much.
Then he started to speak, and I became gobsmacked.
He was one of my past patients.
His sister brought him to me as a last resort.
He had been in a major car accident that left him with brain damage. He had been through surgery, rehabilitation and a lot more.
When I met him, he was nearly mute. His face showed very little expression. He couldn’t hold his head up — it was always down because his neck wasn’t functioning properly.
We worked together for quite some time, and he was making progress. Eventually, his time with me ended, and he went his own way.
I tried to contact his sister a couple of times afterwards to check how he was doing, but I didn’t get an answer.
So I thought maybe it didn’t help as much as they expected. Maybe something happened. Maybe…
But he was always on my mind. He was an unusual patient - his injuries, his condition, and the progress he was making.
It's been about two years since I last saw him.
And suddenly, today, he was standing at my door — and I couldn’t recognise him.
His eyes were bright. His head was firmly in place. He was holding it beautifully. He was full of energy. He was articulate and expressive.
And he basically said to me:
“I’m here. I’m doing what you taught me to do, and I can live because of you — because of what you did. I’m doing all the exercises and all the things you taught me every day.”
And the reason he came today?
He now needs help for his mum.
He said, “Help my mum. I’m happy to give you everything I have. Just help my mum.”
That level of trust - and seeing the result he's achieved - is mind-blowing.
I’m sitting and crying as I write this because it is so overwhelming.
I can’t really describe it.
But it’s beautiful.