“Miss Mary Poopins is a survivor. We've had her many years,” Rachael says. “This chicken has been through it. She runs everyone.”

You might say that Rachael has also “been through it.”

In 2021, she was diagnosed with a rare bone cancer, chondroblastic osteosarcoma. Her treatment included chemotherapy, followed by surgery to remove a tumor and half of her pelvis, replacing the bone with a 3D-printed titanium pelvis.

After surgery, she participated in inpatient rehab close to home.

“I was there for two weeks and just basically learning how to live in a wheelchair because I was non-weight bearing for about a year,” she says.

She continued with outpatient physical therapy and moved from using a wheelchair to using a walker. Now, she sometimes walks with a walker, sometimes with a cane. Even though her mobility has improved significantly, she continues to experience complex pain.

“A lot of neuropathy down my left leg, specifically. And I was doing pain management in Chattanooga. They were doing as best they could for me, but it was just they never could really get it completely under control.”

Researching New Options

A friend of Rachael’s husband had sustained back injuries during her military career and told them about Shepherd Center.

“We started doing some research,” Rachael says. “She had told us just what an incredible game changer it was for her.”

After learning more about the Dean Stroud Spine and Pain Institute at Shepherd Center, Rachael became a patient there in early 2025. She says Shepherd Center felt different.

“I really felt like I was listened to,” she explains. “It's never felt like I'm being looked at as someone seeking pain meds or like I'm being judged for why I'm there. I feel like there's such a warmth and a respect for what people are experiencing.”

The expertise of Shepherd’s staff, coupled with their attention to Rachael’s needs and goals, led to improvements in her pain management.

“Immediately, the doctor saw where we could make some changes to my pain medication … I've been able to come off of a lot of the opioid oral medications that I've been on … We've been able to make a lot of changes, and that's given me a better quality of life,” she says.

Rachael’s care team also suggested she try a spinal cord stimulator, a surgically implanted device that she says has been very helpful in managing her nerve pain and neuropathy.

And, they recommended she visit Shepherd’s pain therapist to address some of the emotional toll of the cancer diagnosis and the pain.

“I didn't even know [pain therapists] existed,” Rachael says. “So, I started seeing her right away. And it was just such an incredible opportunity to work through a lot of these things that I've not unpacked in my life. I never really had the time to grieve that I got sick … that pain, you know, sits within your body. And I didn't recognize all the connections from pain in my body interconnected with my brain. So she really helped me to release a lot of that and taught me many different techniques that I can [use to] help regulate my body.”

Now, Rachael comes to the Pain Institute once a month for treatment. She and Chris turn the trips to Atlanta for her appointments into “day dates,” tacking on lunch or dinner at different restaurants they want to try. She says they feel the hope in the halls at Shepherd Center, and she looks forward to her visits.

“I feel like I'm a friend there amongst people. I know the individuals, I see their faces there, everyone is welcoming and saying ‘Hello,’ and ‘How can I help?’”

Rachael encourages others who are experiencing chronic pain to advocate for themselves, do their research, and seek out care if they feel they have run out of options. She also says having Chris as a care partner, someone who can advocate for her when she can’t advocate for herself, has been a big part of her journey.

“And then lastly, but most importantly,” she says, “has been my faith, … my faith in the Lord has been something that has allowed me to continue to have hope and encouragement, and that pain can be pain, but life can be beautiful in the midst of it all. And that, you know, you have bad days and good days, but you have to look for the good every day as well.”

And although she’s still learning to live with some limitations, she finds the good in being able to manage her pain enough to work full-time, be a mom and a wife, travel, and do other things she enjoys, including enjoying life on their plot of land.

“That's the dream, live on the land, have a little farm, start doing things like making sourdough bread, and have a little farm stand. Who knows?”

Written by Ruth Underwood

The 23-year-old from Montgomery, Alabama, is in his second week of the day program after completing 10 weeks of therapy in the inpatient Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Program.

Today, he’s working with physical therapist Heather Jones, DPT, on transfers. First, they tackle transferring from his wheelchair to the floor and back again.

Tae starts by rolling his wheelchair onto a mat, then scoots forward in his chair, holds onto the side, and lowers himself to the floor. Of course, there’s a lot more to it than that. He has to position his feet and legs just right, and as Heather reminds him, he can’t forget the number-one rule, “Don’t let go [of the wheelchair] with your right arm.”

Heather helps Tae think through the process and adjust his foot position to see whether one position makes the transfers easier than another.

“There are a lot of different ways you can set up, so it’s figuring out what's best for each person,” Heather says.

They try again.

“Did that feel easier?” Heather asks.

“It was way better,” declares Tae. “I ain't gonna lie to you — it was way better. I was able to get my arm up faster. I didn’t like the other way we did it before. I couldn't get my arm up quick enough.”

They talk through what worked and what Tae might want to adjust. Tae suggests moving his feet even farther out for an easier lift, but Heather cautions that his legs could get caught on the chair if they’re positioned that way.

He tries again but loses his balance. Heather stops him before he falls. He is unfazed.

“I had launched myself so far. I had to catch myself with my left hand. I was gonna fall hard on my bootie,” he laughs.

Heather gives him a few more tips on positioning, and he repeats the process several more times, transferring smoothly to the floor.

Nailed it.

Tae says he started practicing transfers during his inpatient therapy, but in the day program, “they give me a more advanced way to do it.”

“We worked a lot in the beginning on the technique for his depression transfers (transfers without using a slide board). Really understanding how to use your shoulder blades to get extra lift. Once he understood that, his depression transfers just skyrocketed in how much better they got.”

Since both Tae and Heather are satisfied with his technique for floor transfers, Tae is up for another challenge: transferring into an SUV, so they head to the parking deck.

On his way out of the gym, another patient calls out to greet him, and they check in on each other.

As he rolls down the hall, Tae mentions his yoga class from the previous day.

“Man, I ain't gonna lie, I was so sore from yoga yesterday. I woke up, I thought I was old,” he jokes. “Oh, I did a good job, though, yesterday. I'm very flexible.”

When they reach Shepherd Center’s parking deck, Heather points Tae to a mid-size SUV that’s designated for practicing transfers. Tae has already conquered transfers into and out of the sedan parked beside it.

“Ooh, SUV,” he says, clearly ready for the challenge.

“So, there are a bunch of different ways you can do this,” Heather explains. “Like a floor transfer, we have to figure out what ways are gonna work best for you.”

Heather talks him through the process, with suggestions on where to position his feet, hands, body, and wheelchair for a smooth transfer. Again, she allows Tae to problem-solve, since she will not be there to coach him when he goes home — and every situation will be different.

“As long as it's safe and it's not dangerous, we'll try just about any method they want,” she says. “I'll let them try stuff, and then I'll give my feedback, like, ‘Okay, this is how we can make this better and more successful.’”


“He also really likes transfers,” she adds, “so if I didn’t slow him down…”

Tae does a great job on his first try. While he practices, he suggests that he should’ve been a movie star — and insists that he makes everybody laugh, which seems likely. He’d like to make videos showing others how to do everything he’s learning in rehabilitation.

“I can teach people how to do it the right way, instead of doing it the wrong way,” he says. “So, when I get this down pat, it helps me build confidence on, okay, I can go on TikTok and show them this, show them that without messing up, and that makes me happy…. I’m gonna do a little skit. I'm like, ‘Hey, it's my everyday life. You’re living with Tae.’”

Tae makes short work of the mid-size SUV and declares the transfers “easy,” so they decide he’s ready for “the beast” — a Yukon Denali that looks like it hasn’t moved from its spot in years.

The height of the Denali’s seat definitely makes things more difficult, but Tae is undaunted.

“He's making this look really easy,” Heather says. “It's not an easy transfer.”

“I found the technique,” Tae explains, “It's really technique, for real, with everything…. You do need a little upper strength, I can tell you that. But, hey, technique is all that’s key.”

“That makes this PT's heart very happy,” says Heather. “Strength is great, but technique is key.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

Quality improvements at Shepherd Center mean better care and outcomes for patients, better experiences for families, and a better workplace for staff.

Out of that desire for continuous improvement, the Quality Improvement Champions Program (QICP) was born. The program has an open application process for all Shepherd employees and provides staff education on the science of improvement and the use of various improvement tools. The curriculum consists of Institute for Healthcare Improvement (IHI) Basic Certificate in Quality and Safety coursework, followed by a six-month hands-on, innovative application of skills, tools, and concepts within each participant’s respective programs, thereby boosting Shepherd Center’s overall quality and safety.

QICP celebrated its first graduating class in June 2023 and has grown quickly, boasting 63 graduates as of this July.

During this year’s QICP graduation celebration, Shepherd’s Chief Medical Officer, Michael Yochelson, M.D., MBA, commended the commitment of program participants and underscored how integral continuous improvement is to Shepherd’s mission and culture.

“It represents 63 people who chose to step forward and say, ‘I can help make Shepherd Center better.’ It represents 63 people who have learned not just to see problems, but to approach them with structure, curiosity, and purpose. And ultimately, it represents a growing culture, one where improvement is not someone else’s responsibility, but something we all own.”

QICP participants from across the hospital fuel project ideas. Based on their day-to-day experiences, they offer diverse perspectives and insights into processes and procedures that could be more efficient and effective.

“QICP embodies Shepherd’s commitment to quality by equipping team members across the organization with the skills, tools, and support needed to improve patient outcomes, enhance team member safety, and strengthen operational efficiency,” says Mariana Volpini Gattegno, MPH, CPHQ, CLSSBB, director of quality and outcomes management at Shepherd Center. “Through this program, we are empowering staff to identify opportunities, solve problems, and lead meaningful change themselves. I truly feel that QICP reflects Shepherd's culture of quality, where collaboration, innovation, and continuous improvement drive excellence in everything we do.”

Several QICP projects from previous years have become part of the day-to-day processes at the hospital, including:

• A swallowing precautions initiative, which was a three-year effort involving three QICP cohorts that delivered lasting impact and earned two Georgia Hospital Association awards.
• A combined therapy and nursing skills day to strengthen collaboration and consistency across disciplines to support better care.
• A speech therapy weekly outcomes measure tool to bring greater clarity and measurement to patient progress for more focused care.
• An initiative to add patient images to Wheelchair Seating and Mobility Clinic evaluations, improving communication and increasing the precision of care.

This year’s QICP graduates represented nine departments: Psychology, Food Services, the Dean Stroud Spine and Pain Institute, Engineering, Shepherd Pathways, Research, the Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit (CRU), the Rollins Acquired Brain Injury Program, and the Wheelchair Seating and Mobility Clinic.

Participants’ projects focused on everything from updating workflows to improving training processes and enhancing patient education.

“These are not small changes,” says Dr. Yochelson. “These are improvements that enhance safety, strengthen teamwork, and ultimately improve outcomes for the patients Shepherd serves.

“That is the true goal of QICP: not just to complete a project, but to build capability. To develop leaders who know how to think differently — who know how to approach complexity with discipline. And who know how to turn everyday challenges into opportunities for improvement.”

Abby Culin, LMFT, a family therapist in the Acquired Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program, was one of this year’s graduates. She worked on improving role and scope clarity for her position.

“First, my quality mentor, psychology department leadership, and I focused on defining role objectives. Then, we utilized practical tools to help ensure that families receive the right level of support at the right time,” she explains. “I am so grateful to have participated in the QICP program,” Culin says. “My biggest takeaway is the iterative nature of process improvement. It is so valuable to try an idea, see how it works, and adjust based on what you learn. In ever-changing environments, one solution likely will not work forever!”

Brandon Landreau, a physical plant engineer and bed technician at Shepherd, also graduated from QICP this year. He evaluated the engineering department’s staffing and succession planning. Then, he developed recommendations to ensure the department maintains institutional knowledge, attracts and retains highly qualified staff, and reduces dependence on outside contractors.

Landreau says that through QICP, he learned a lot about how to efficiently convey information, use tools to compare data, and develop and strengthen his communication skills. But that wasn’t the only thing he liked about the program.

“My favorite thing about the QICP is that it is for everyone,” Landreau explains. “I wasn’t sure if it was reserved for clinical staff or department administrators, but I applied anyway, and I got in! I think that’s what sets Shepherd Center apart. The culture and atmosphere here are amazing, and that’s because of the people. I think that programs like QICP that help develop staff in all departments make Shepherd Center a great place to be. It improves the overall experience not only for our patients but our coworkers as well. I learned so much and would highly recommend anyone who is interested to apply.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

At Shepherd, no effort is spared in helping families through recovery. Clinical treatments can help patients make progress medically, but resources like family housing, psychological and chaplaincy services, and community outings can help families adjust to a new lifestyle, build confidence, and prepare for the future together.

In the summer issue of Spinal Column, we feature four families who've been impacted by their time at Shepherd Center — whether it was a short stop on their road to recovery or a place of continued support for navigating illness and building independence. Click the links to get to know each family, or see the story in full below.

‘An Honor to Care for Him’
Rebecca and Justin Goldman Support Their Son in the Wake of Injury

‘Lift Yourself Up’
Tachiana Ingram and Her Daughter Learn to Navigate Her Multiple Sclerosis

‘A New Man’
Marine Mark Koerner Turned to SHARE to Reconnect with His Family

‘Everything I’ve Wanted'
Megan Collins Bordon's Motherhood Journey Post-Spinal Cord Injury

Her first symptoms appeared when she was pregnant with her daughter in 2006. Her vision would blur, and at times, go dark completely. 

“I watched all the episodes of [A Baby Story on TLC], read all the books. I was that person — did all the research, and probably scared myself more than needed,” she reflects on her pregnancy. “So, it completely threw me because going blind was not one of the things that was on my checklist [of pregnancy symptoms].” 

She went to a specialist who eased her worries. While rare, vision issues can be a pregnancy complication, he said.

She gave birth to her daughter, Adia Sims, in 2006. But her vision problems and other severe symptoms continued on and off for years, leading her to the emergency room. Doctors would run MRIs, CT scans, and ultrasounds, but the tests never offered the answers they were looking for. 

Eventually, she got a referral to Shepherd Center, where doctors in the Andrew C. Carlos Multiple Sclerosis Institute confirmed that Tachiana had MS. It was October 2015, nearly 10 years after her symptoms appeared. 

By that time, her symptoms made her give up many of the things she loved — baking, running, and traveling with her daughter. She used a walker to get around, and in her initial consultation at Shepherd Center, she struggled to walk at all. But that was all about to change. 

“Finally, I was somewhere where people actually understand, and they know what’s going on,” she says. “Within my first three or four treatments, my vision started to get better.” 

She began intensive physical therapy to rebuild her strength, and the MS staff gave her tools to keep improving at home in between sessions. But even as her symptoms improved, Tachiana had a long journey in front of her, including helping Adia understand her condition. 

“I think her biggest [concern] was, ‘There's no cure, are you going to die?’” Tachiana remembers. “That just broke me hearing her say that.” 

Tachiana encouraged Adia to ask questions about her MS, as well as to voice her feelings when she was scared or upset. She made Adia appointments with a therapist so she could freely discuss her feelings. And she made it a point to show Adia some of the realities of living with MS. 

“I also had to teach myself to stop hiding my episodes or symptoms when I was feeling bad, so she could get a better understanding and get comfortable with seeing me like that,” she says. 

Today, Tachiana and her daughter are back to doing many of the things they love: cooking and baking, going on trips, and living an active lifestyle. She emphasizes that it’s taken time for them to get to this point, something she encourages other parents with MS to embrace. 

“Be patient, give yourself some grace, try to be as positive as you can,” she says. “It’s okay to ask for help ... lift yourself up just as much as you lift your kids.” 

And for children with parents who have MS, Adia, now 19, has some advice too. “It can be hard or confusing to understand, but the best way is to take it slow. It’s okay to ask questions,” she says. “It’s going to be hard, but over time you’ll get used to it and find ways to help with it and find better ways to cope with it.”

Written by Erin Kenney

She buys yards of fleece — solid, patterned, colorful — while it's on sale in the warmer months. Come winter, she’ll get together with volunteers from VVWC and cut it into rectangles with slits down the sides, before bringing the fabric to Teasley Elementary School, where fifth graders tie the fringe together, the last step in creating lap blankets VVWC then donates to Shepherd Center patients. 

Leading up to the blanket-making, Joanne explains Shepherd Center’s mission to the students, giving them some context about the patients they are helping. She also occasionally drops off Spinal Column magazines for the students to peruse. 

“[One edition] happened to have pictures of the [facility] dogs. So, I encouraged them to draw pictures of the dogs helping the patients,” Joanne says. “I feel like I am opening their eyes to something they don’t know much about at that age. We as adults are very proud that we have Shepherd Center in Atlanta, but I think most of the kids don't know that.” 

After the kids finish the blankets, volunteers from VVWC carefully prepare each blanket for Shepherd Center. They wash and fold them, add them to an extra large Ziploc bag with a Valentine’s Day card (also handmade by the students) and a permanent marker — each blanket has a blank name tag, so the recipient can personalize it with the marker if they choose. 

Joanne calls the blanket making project, which VVWC has been doing in partnership with Shepherd Center for four years, “a win-win.” It benefits Shepherd Center patients, while also getting kids involved in community service. 

“One of our club philosophies is that we want to bring community service projects into the elementary schools,” she says. “We always write [the students] a thank you note afterwards, and hope that they realize they did something very nice that day. I always tell them, ‘Try to do something good every day.’” 

The blankets have benefitted patients across treatment programs, from those in inpatient rehabilitation to those receiving outpatient care in the Andrew C. Carlos Multiple Sclerosis Institute. The blankets are specially designed to be narrower, to reduce the risk of getting caught in wheelchair mechanisms, and they bring a bright spot to patients during dreary Georgia winters. Joanne, who’s been involved with VVWC for 44 years, credits her team of volunteers and her assistant, Margaret Hathaway, with helping her with the project year after year. 

“These projects would not happen without the number of wonderful volunteers in this organization,” she says. “I mean it's all volunteers, and all I have to say is, ‘We've got a project for Shepherd Center,’ and I have more volunteers than I need.”

Written by Erin Kenney

Megan Collins Bordon, like many moms, is no stranger to multitasking. One January morning, when reached by phone for an interview, she worked away on a to-do list while her 11-month-old, Wyatt, was down for a nap. Thirty minutes later, she’d gotten him up and out of his crib, getting ready to nurse him. 

“Everything I’ve wanted from [the experience of being a mom], we’ve been able to do,” she says. “I feel really blessed about that.” 

Megan and her husband, Adrian Bordon, welcomed Wyatt in February 2025, seven years after she sustained a spinal cord injury (SCI) after running off the road in her car. After two months in the ICU, she came to Shepherd Center for the SCI rehabilitation program. She moved from the inpatient program to the SCI Day Program to outpatient therapy, before ultimately moving from Tennessee to Atlanta to stay close to her new Shepherd community. 

She found an apartment, enrolled in graduate school, and started a full-time office position at Shepherd Center — milestones she credits to her rehab at Shepherd. 

“Shepherd from the start gave me the tools to adapt in any kind of environment,” she says. “Because of the wheelchair skills and social skills and confidence that I’d built at Shepherd, I felt like I could navigate any situation.”

Megan points to recreation therapy and peer support as crucial components of her recovery. The programs taught her how to navigate life post-injury, including the Atlanta dating scene. Less than two years after her injury, she met her husband, Adrian. 

The two married and moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where they began a new chapter in their life. Megan got pregnant in 2024 and began calling different OB-GYN practices to find a doctor who had experience with SCI patients. Luckily, she did. 

During her relatively smooth, though still considered high-risk pregnancy, she hoped to have an unmedicated, natural birth. But she ultimately ended up delivering via a C-section (due to standard labor complications, not as a result of her SCI). 

“My support system, asking the right questions, being well educated about my diagnosis and my care, all of that really contributed to a good [pregnancy and delivery] experience for me,” she says. 

Since bringing Wyatt home, Megan has adapted to every challenge with help from a dedicated support system. Sarah Dubois, PT, DPT, one of her physical therapists from Shepherd, had her first baby just four months before Megan, making her uniquely suited to offer advice and support. 

Megan also met two other Charleston-based mothers who use wheelchairs through her OB-GYN. Her friends and family round out her support network, helping with everything from Costco trips to replying to late-night texts. 

As Wyatt neared his first birthday in February, Megan reflected on his first year. 

“Especially in the beginning, I was so scared about what everything would look like. Once I got into it, I would be fine,” she says. “When he started crawling, I was terrified, but after two days of crawling, I was like, ‘Oh okay, this is the same thing, but harder.’”

She sometimes gets asked how she’ll keep up with Wyatt once he’s walking and running, but her answer is simple: the same way any mother would. 

“[I’ll] follow him around. Wyatt is just going to have to learn that mommy can’t [always] chase after him, and he needs to be safe and be careful and listen,” she says. “A lot of that is just going to be up to me and Adrian as parents to teach him.” 

While each new phase presents its own challenges, she especially looks forward to some milestones, like their first flight as a family of three, hearing Wyatt form his first full sentences, and navigating the beach for the first time. But in the meantime, she is savoring every moment.

Written by Erin Kenney

From the outside looking in, everything was going right for Marine 1st Sgt. Mark Koerner. 

He’d had an accomplished career in the Marine Corps — he was the most senior member of his unit at Parris Island, South Carolina — and he had a loving wife and two young children. 

But not everything was going right. 

“A lot of things happened during my 20 years [in the Marines] that led up to me really having a hard time in South Carolina,” he remembers. “My symptoms just kept getting worse and worse, quality of life getting worse, and [I didn’t] understand what was going on with me. From an outsider's perspective, I appeared to be so blessed — and I was, and I still am — but why couldn't I be present in that?” 

He remembers feeling distracted, gaining weight, experiencing drinking problems, and generally feeling off. He did what he could to change things — scheduling surgeries he’d once pushed off, seeing behavioral health specialists at the Naval Hospital, quitting drinking. But a bad relapse pushed him over the edge. 

His first stop was Emerald Coast Behavioral Hospital in Florida, where he got help with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and substance abuse. Things were already looking up when he got back, and then he caught up with a friend who’d recently been to SHARE Military Initiative at Shepherd Center, a comprehensive rehabilitation program for veterans, service members, and first responders with traumatic brain injuries and mental health concerns. Mark applied to the program and was accepted. 

“I wasn't sure what to expect when I was going there, all I knew really was what [my friend] had told me about his experience there,” Mark says, “It just seemed like the next logical step for me to continue getting help that I needed before I took that giant leap and hung up the uniform.” 

Mark’s time at SHARE was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He was surprised to find that he had a say in his treatment plan, and while some days were difficult, he fully committed to the program. He had made sacrifices to be there — leaving behind his family and his unit — so he gave it his all. It was worth it. 

“It just all worked so well together that I honestly felt like I was a new man when I left there,” he says. “I was able to come back and face life, and it's not like any problems disappeared, but my ability to manage them was almost effortless compared to how I felt prior to SHARE.” 

He doesn’t point to one specific kind of therapy as the tool that gave him his life back. Instead, it was the combination of everything — memory exercises, recreation therapy outings, Wednesday night cookouts, staying in the apartments with his peers, and the genuine kindness from the program staff. 

When he returned to his unit after his time at SHARE, he was transparent with them about where he had been and why. 

“It was a little hard to go back after being gone for so long, I'm sure [there were] a lot of rumors, a lot of younger Marines saying, ‘Hey, where did the First Sergeant go?’” 

“I told them exactly where I lived, where I was. I didn't expect it to happen, but after I was so transparent with them, I had a lot of Marines wanting to talk to me because they were going through things that were very similar to what I was going through, and I was able to help them through a lot of it and pointed them to resources and just gave them my experience and my advice.”

Mark retired from the Marines in 2024, after 20 years of service and seven deployments across the country and the world. He’s now a first-year apprentice in the International Union of Operating Engineers in Ohio, where his family has a home, his wife Abby has a job, and their boys are in school. 

“When I'm home, I can be present with the boys. I'm not wrestling with all the distractions, many of them selfmade, that I once was,” he says. “I'm able to wake up every day and be grateful for all the blessings in my life. “There's always problems in life, and nothing ever works out perfectly. I continue to run across them, but it's nothing that's insurmountable, and home life is very much improved.”

Written by Erin Kenney

“It was all cascading.” 

That’s how Josh Russo describes his life in 2024. He was preparing to retire from the military, where he spent most of his 21-year career in special operations for the U.S. Army. Neuropathy in his right leg was so debilitating and painful that he had required a wheelchair, and he was experiencing depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideations. 

“I felt out of control, like I was on a speeding train that I couldn’t get off,” Josh says. “It made me self-isolate and not want to be around anyone, including my family.” 

On the recommendation of a nurse case manager, he came to Shepherd Center’s SHARE Military Initiative in November 2024. 

“I had been trying to get help,” Josh remembers, “but nothing was working. I wasn’t sure SHARE would either.” 

Josh spent eight weeks working on pain management, physical mobility, and learning how to regulate his emotions. He had three goals: to better understand his symptoms and why he was experiencing them, show up more at home, and build a life beyond the military. 

Physical therapy helped with the neuropathy, as well as some chronic neck and shoulder pain he had as a result of several military deployments. He worked with a neuropsychologist on his emotional issues. 

Josh says one of the most helpful things was having his wife and three children come to Shepherd during his treatment so they could all learn about what he was experiencing and ways they could help each other. 

“All of us benefited from that,” he says. “We all came away with a better understanding of my symptoms and ways we could work as a team in managing everything.” 

By the end of the program, Josh felt physically and mentally stronger and ready for his next chapter. 

In March 2025, Josh retired from active duty and began consulting — work that has opened the door to new entrepreneurial opportunities. Though he calls himself a “work in progress,” he is better equipped to manage pain, stay connected, and keep moving forward. 

“SHARE allowed me to step back and understand what was happening and identify clear pathways to navigate through it,” Josh says. “I had never encountered that level of care and client-focused continuity of care that I experienced there. It’s a world-class program.” 

Written by Sara Baxter 
 

Just three years in, a partnership between Shepherd Center and the Sociology Department at Georgia State University (GSU) has yielded seven published studies, over 100 scientific outputs, and received the university’s prestigious Ignite Award for Faculty Research Partnership. 

The partnership began as another chapter was ending for Raeda Anderson, Ph.D. Dr. Anderson was preparing to come to Shepherd Center as a research scientist, leaving her role as a professor in the Department of Research and Engagement at Georgia State University. 

“Dr. Wright said something to the effect of, ‘So you think you’re leaving, but we’re actually going to make you an affiliate faculty member — so you can stay in the department as an Applied Sociologist as long as you’re willing,’” she remembers. “I wanted to be at Shepherd Center for a year before trying to build any bridges between the two institutions, because being a scientist is a hard profession. Being a scientist at a top-ranked non-profit hospital is even harder. So, I gave myself a year, and it was a year and one day when George Usmanov, my former graduate assistant at GSU, came over to Shepherd Center as a graduate assistant.” 

What started as one graduate student working at Shepherd Center grew into a formal partnership between the two institutions. The GSU department provided funding for two more of Dr. Anderson’s graduate research assistants from the university to come work with her at Shepherd. Dr. Anderson, along with Dr. Daniel Pasciuti, associate professor of Sociology at GSU, and Dr. Patricia Lawrence, research assistant professor of Public Health and Interim Associate Director for the Center for Leadership and Disability, co-founded and lead GSU’s Interdisciplinary Community Research on Disability Lab (iCORD Lab). The iCORD Lab focuses on actionable research grounded in the belief that people with disabilities should thrive, not just survive, in their communities. 

“Shepherd Center and GSU Sociology’s partnership has taken off.” Dr. Anderson says. “Social scientists are now making a real effect in clinical research. Our highly trained students work at Shepherd, contribute to publications, and excel at turning research into action. It’s a wonderful partnership that benefits everyone, most importantly our patients.” 

Ford Vox, M.D., a doctor in Shepherd’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program, was so impressed by the partnership that he approached Deborah Backus, PT, Ph.D., FACRM, the hospital’s vice president of research and innovation, about funding the partnership to work on a project with local brain injury day program, Side by Side Brain Injury Clubhouse. 

Side by Side is a member-led community providing growth opportunities for brain injury survivors. Dr. Anderson and her team have helped the program answer a myriad of questions about membership, participation, transportation, housing, and potential barriers to services. The multi-mode and multi-phase study is also helping prepare the program for Side by Side’s upcoming expansion.

In addition to the project for Side by Side, the partnership has helped drive quality improvements at Shepherd Center. In one recently published study, Madelief Tilder, a former GSU graduate research assistant, examined factors influencing telehealth appointment completion. The study, driven by questions from clinical leaders here at Shepherd Center, analyzed over one million Shepherd Center appointments to examine patterns of appointment completion, focusing on the role of insurance, appointment structure, and access barriers. 

“This experience helped me envision a future as an applied sociologist and showed me that interdisciplinary, collaborative research is not just possible — it’s powerful,” Tilder says. “The supportive environment fostered through the partnership helped me see that my voice matters, that I bring valuable insight and belong in research spaces. It gave me the confidence to ask questions, share my ideas, and meaningfully engage in scholarly conversations.” 

In another study, Melissa Treanor, the current GSU graduate research assistant, examined all Georgia State Parks for accessibility information and is in early stages with Rec Therapy to identify how to use the data here at Shepherd Center. 

“The GSU and Shepherd Center partnership has taught me that rigorous methods are most valuable when they are put in service of the community rather than kept inside the academy,” Treanor says. “Through this work, I have learned to ask not only whether a finding is significant, but what it means to the people the research is meant to help.” 

Another recent study, “Disabled and left behind: U.S. poor housing through a social determinant of health lens,” uses national data from the U.S. Census Bureau to examine social determinants of health for people with disabilities. Social determinants of health are conditions in the environments where people are born, live, learn, work, play, worship, and age that affect a wide range of health, functioning, and quality-of-life outcomes and risks for people with disabilities. 

“We never say in science that we were the first ever, but to our knowledge, it is the first publication that has examined this many areas of social determinants of health for people with disabilities,” Dr. Anderson says. “So, we intentionally published it as open access, so more people could have access to it, and Drs. Lawrence and Pasciuti covered those fees for us.”

The partnership, while relatively new, has already made a tremendous effect on research at Shepherd Center and more widely in the field of rehabilitative medicine and disability advocacy. Fittingly, Georgia State recognized the partnership with its Ignite Award for The Faculty Research Partnership Award. The partnership was one of three chosen out of all partnerships across GSU’s seven campuses and hundreds of research areas. On top of the recognition, the award comes with a cash prize — enough to fund another graduate research assistant for the next academic year. 

“The GSU Sociology department has funded three years of students, however, with budget cuts they are not able to fund a graduate assistant this upcoming year,” Anderson says. “This will fund a student for the entire next academic year, so Shepherd Center will get another great research assistant, and a sociologist will get a full ride work-study position. All the money that we won from the award is going back into the partnership to help strengthen it even more.” 

Written by Erin Kenney & Ruth Underwood

When families arrive at Shepherd Center, their number one priority is their loved one's rehabilitation. But day-to-day tasks and needs don't stop, even in the face of a life changing injury. Shepherd Center's Family Support Services Coordinator Rebecca Shearin helps families balance these needs, get to know their new environment, and even find time to carve out for themselves. Here, she answers a few questions about her role. 

How do you explain your role to families who are new to Shepherd Center? 

The first time I introduce myself to a patient’s family member, I tell them to think of me as their admin and concierge. For many of them, it’s like they’ve moved to a new city, but they didn’t pick it out or choose to come here. Anybody who has moved to a new city knows those struggles — you don’t know where things are, you don’t feel comfortable going places. I let them know they can ask me about things in the area, from family-friendly places to visit, to good hair or nail salons, to grocery stores and restaurants. 

With the admin part, I stress to them that I’m not the person to help them fill out their disability paperwork, but once it is complete, I can scan it, fax it, copy it, notarize it, whatever is needed. I also take care of inpatient mail. 

I also help connect families with extended stay hotels and apartments in the area. We provide family housing at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences for those who live over 50 miles from the hospital, but often extended family or friends will visit during a patient’s rehabilitation, and I’m able to help those visitors find lodging nearby. 

Day-to-day, my role can be a hodgepodge. I also manage the patient and family event calendar, and the family lounge is my home base. I take care of the lounge area and restock anything in there that’s needed. I also assist with our Tuesday night family dinners. 

What initially drew you to Shepherd Center? 

So, I ended up at Shepherd because I was job searching and I had recently graduated from Georgia State [University] as a film major with a minor in art. I was striking out finding work, and I had student loan payments coming, so I thought, “OK, let me pivot. What else do I like to do?” My husband and I really enjoy volunteering, and so I started looking at jobs at nonprofits, and then I applied for some roles at Shepherd. 

I heard back from Alex [Seblatnigg, Shepherd’s Director of Volunteer Services] right away, which I initially was nervous about. We set up an interview, and my first question was “How long did the person previously in the role work here?” and she said 15 years. That got me really interested — and when I came in for an in-person interview, people were saying hello to me in the hallways already. I just thought, “These are my people!” 

I joked with friends who asked me about my job at Shepherd Center, “Who knew my ability to talk to strangers in grocery stores would be valued anywhere?” That’s pretty much what I do — talk to strangers all day. And I love it. I love the purpose that we have here, and being able to help people. 

What are some of the biggest challenges of your role? 

The hardest thing is whenever I have to tell somebody no. I don’t like telling people no, but occasionally that’s the answer. For example, we can’t give people rides to and from the airport. We’re not too far, but it would be too much for our volunteers to ask them to pick up and drop off people at the airport. 

Another challenge is helping people get used to our area. A significant number of our patients and families are from rural areas, and they haven’t spent an extended amount of time in the city before. That can be intimidating and nerve-wracking, which I understand. 

This isn’t necessarily a challenge, but another difficult thing I face is seeing how patient family members and caregivers are usually the hardest on themselves. They don’t give themselves enough grace, or even think about themselves at all. One time, I was helping a woman who was almost in tears because she couldn’t remember how to attach something in an email. She kept saying she felt stupid, and I had to say, “You’re not stupid, you’re tired.” I try to help them be kind to themselves because they’re sleep deprived, they’re stressed out, and they’re receiving tons of information. It’s not the best example, but it’s almost like when you have a baby for the first time. You’re learning all this stuff, and you’re waking up every few hours. When I say this to parents I’m working with, they go “Oh yeah,” because every parent remembers how exhausting that was, and I hope it helps them be a little kinder to themselves in their current circumstances. 

What else is unique about your role at Shepherd Center? 

I absolutely love what I do. Every now and then, I have a family member or patient who will come say goodbye to me before they leave. I am so honored that they think of me to do that. I just love this place. I really do. The fact that we even have a role like mine — I think Shepherd is pretty unique in having that. I think it’s because we were started by a family who had to travel hundreds of miles for their son’s care. They knew what it was like to be far from home. All those little things we provide, I can’t help but think they stem from their own personal experience. 

Responses have been edited for length and clarity. 

Interview by Erin Kenney

Christy Cogley knows what to expect with a concussion. She’s had 10 of them in her lifetime. 

Her past concussions were from sports injuries, car accidents, and other incidents. But the last one she sustained in June 2025 was different. Her memory of what happened is fuzzy. She believes she got out of bed to check on her dog. Christy only remembers feeling a painful hit to the back of her head then waking up on the floor. Over the next few hours, she felt nauseated and very sweaty. She went to the emergency department, where doctors confirmed a concussion. 

Unlike her past concussions, her symptoms lingered and worsened. Her headaches were more severe. She found herself stuttering, forgetting names and general information, and experiencing vision problems. A return trip to the emergency department showed nothing out of the ordinary. With no relief, Christy was beginning to feel despair. Completing everyday tasks was a challenge. 

Her primary care doctor recommended Shepherd Center’s Complex Concussion Clinic (CCC). In July 2025, she met with Russell Gore, M.D., the clinic’s medical director. She says that meeting changed everything. 

“Dr. Gore spent at least 45 minutes just listening and educating me about concussions” she says. “He saw me as a whole person, not just somebody with a concussion. He was so patient, so kind, and gave me science-based information. I left there feeling so much better.” 

Christy, who is the director of exam operations for a licensing association, spent the next few months in cognitive therapy to improve memory and daily task management, speech therapy to reduce stuttering and regain voice control, and physical therapy to regain her balance. She learned strategies to compensate for her symptoms. During her treatment, Dr. Gore also detected an unrelated vision problem and dysautonomia and referred her to specialists. 

“I felt like a weight was lifted off of me,” Christy says of her experience. “Everyone was so reassuring and compassionate. They never minimized what I was experiencing.” 

Christy says she has learned to give herself grace and honor the healing process and says she would advise others to do the same. Being a former collegiate and professional basketball player working harder was always her answer, but she now knows that “working harder doesn’t equal quicker healing. It sometimes prolongs it.” 

Now, almost a year later, Christy says she is “back on track.” Her headaches are less frequent, and her balance and vision have improved. She continues to visit the clinic to work with an occupational therapist and is forever grateful for her care at the CCC. 

“The Concussion Clinic is an amazing place,” Christy says. “The staff listens to you and shares their expertise with you. They are committed to everyone healing.” 

Written by Sara Baxter
 

When Keylan Watkins returned home to Chattanooga, Tennessee, from Shepherd Center, his mother, LaToya, took him to Erlanger Hospital to show them how far he’d come. 

“I wanted them to see the miracle Shepherd created,” LaToya says. 

Four months earlier, on June 2, 2023, Keylan, then 12, sustained a traumatic brain injury when he fell off an all-terrain vehicle. He was in the pediatric intensive care unit at Erlanger for 35 days, where doctors were unsure of Keylan’s prognosis. After learning about Shepherd Center from a caseworker, LaToya and Keylan arrived by ambulance to start his rehabilitation. 

Keylan was using a feeding tube and was unable to walk, talk, or eat. But he slowly made progress. 

“I was optimistic about his chance for recovery, but I also doubtful because of what the doctors had told me,” LaToya says. 

That doubt of Keylan having a successful recovery faded during their first week at Shepherd Center. 

“He was standing more, reacting more, and began remembering things,” she remembers. “I knew we were in the right place and that things would be okay.” 

In Shepherd Center’s Adolescent Rehabilitation Program, Keylan enjoyed being with other kids close to his age, socializing, playing games, and shooting baskets in the gym. 

“It was fun and took my mind off of what I was going through,” Keylan says. He set small goals for himself – like walking down the hall on his own – and surpassed them all. 

After 46 days at Shepherd Center and a few weeks at outpatient rehabilitation at Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, Keylan returned home in October 2023 and began seventh grade. 

Now 15, Keylan is a freshman in high school. His doctors have discouraged playing sports because of the risk of head injury, but he stays busy off the field. He is happy just “chilling with his friends,” and has a job running the scoreboard and keeping the stats for basketball games at the Chattanooga Parks and Recreation Department, where LaToya also works. He is also training to be an umpire for softball games. 

Keylan and LaToya are both grateful for Shepherd Center. 

“I loved everything about Shepherd Center,” LaToya says. “It was such a family atmosphere. I tell everyone it is an amazing place and they create miracles.” 

Written by Sara Baxter 
 

Thanksgiving 2020 started like normal for Teona Osborne, 36.

“My kids and I were getting ready to start cooking,” Teona explains. “But when I went to get up, my legs wouldn’t move. I was terrified and confused.”

Teona, who lives in Dallas, Georgia, was rushed to Wellstar Cobb Hospital. Despite many tests over several months, no clear cause of paralysis came to light. Teona saw a neurologist at Emory University Hospital, and again, testing came back normal.

“The theory was that COVID had affected my spine, but they couldn’t say for sure because nothing showed up,” Teona says. “Life had changed for me in an instant, and I didn’t know how to process it. But I have two kids who rely on me, so I went into survival mode.”

Always a go-getter who doesn’t let obstacles slow her down, Teona knew she needed to get her body as strong as possible and learn to drive while using a wheelchair. Her physical therapy team at Emory referred her to Shepherd Center for more specialized care.

Teona started Shepherd’s Driving Evaluation and Rehabilitation Program.

“I needed to learn how to break down my wheelchair to get it in and out of the car by myself. The team showed me different adaptive driving equipment, and I practiced inside the facility and in an actual car on the road.”

Teona passed the driving test and traded her large truck for a smaller car, so it was easier to get in and out. Getting the car made a huge difference in her day-to-day life.

“My son does football and other sports, and my daughter does gymnastics and cheerleading. Being able to drive helped them keep going with their regular lives even though this huge change had happened to us,” Teona says.

Prior to losing mobility in her legs, Teona was a preschool teacher at a daycare. She decided to take time away from this physically demanding job, instead putting her efforts toward completing her degree.

“Being able to drive allowed me to go back and finish college. I graduated in December 2025 with a bachelor’s in education,” Teona says.

Teona’s outgoing spirit has helped her get stronger, too. Through physical therapy and exercise at Shepherd Center’s ProMotion Fitness Center, Teona has learned more about what her body is capable of.

“I feel stronger and way more independent,” she says. “The Shepherd team worked around my school schedule, especially my main therapist, Drew Oswald. They wanted me to graduate. I’d be working out, and my therapist would help with my homework. They saw the whole me, not just the patient me.”

Teona even took advantage of Shepherd’s recreation therapy offerings and tried adaptive golf and cycling.

“To me, it’s important to not give up and find a way. I didn’t know I could ride a bike, but they showed me there is a way. Live life to the fullest.”

Teona has accomplished so much since losing mobility in her legs, but she isn’t stopping anytime soon. Her next big goal: get an accessible minivan and find a fulltime teaching job using her degree. Teona explains that having to disassemble and assemble her manual wheelchair is time consuming and very difficult when the weather isn’t cooperating.

“A wheelchair-accessible vehicle would completely transform my daily life. I could use my electric wheelchair to simply roll into the vehicle on a ramp, giving me the freedom to reliably and safely go to a full-time job.”

Teona is determined to make her goals a reality, something she encourages others to do as well.

“I’m strong-minded. I tell my students, if Ms. T didn’t give up, you can’t either! Now I say that to everybody. Keep pushin’.”

Written by Damjana Alverson

The 68-year-old comes to the pool three days a week as a community member for a rigorous workout routine: an hour and 20 minutes of stretching, strength training, and cardio in the water. 

“Although I’ve never been a patient at Shepherd Center, I do have a neuromuscular disorder,” says Kelli, who has Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease. “Finding a pool as special as the ProMotion pool has been just a gift to allow me to continue exercising regularly to maintain the mobility that I have ... the pool has been invaluable.” 

Kelli has been coming to Shepherd Center’s pool for five years now, and this spring, Brigid Sykes, PT, D.P.T., CLT, a physical therapist specializing in aquatics, had an important question for her. 

“I was in the pool doing my exercises, and Brigid was in the pool working with a patient. She swam over and said, ‘We have something to ask you.’ [I thought it would be] ‘Can you please slide over so the patient I’m working with can also use the ballerina bar?’ or ‘Can you please pass me the noodle?’ I didn’t know what it was. And she said, ‘We would like to know if you would consider being our ‘Mermaid of the Month,’ I said, ‘The what?’” Kelli laughs. “I didn’t even know what it was.” 

Brigid explained the new monthly recognition to Kelli — the pool staff was commending pool regulars with a ‘Mermaid of the Month’ award, essentially, hanging up each mermaid or merman’s photo on the pool bulletin board for a month to highlight their dedication. The recognition is like an encapsulation of the things that make Shepherd, Shepherd: it’s community-focused, celebratory, and slightly silly, all while recognizing hard work and dedication. 

“Basically, we select a person who sees the value of the pool and enjoys coming to the pool regularly,” says Sykes. “It started with a community member who comes to the pool all the time and basically just plays around. He reminded me of a mermaid with the way he was swimming around, floating, and just generally enjoying the mermaid life, and thus we named him ‘Mermaid of the Month.’ He was really proud of it, so we thought it would be fun to continue.” 

In July, Ronnie Skipper, a former patient who has a spinal cord injury, earned the title. After sustaining his injury in 2014, he began using the pool during rehabilitation exercises. He returned for a month in 2018 to receive a Baclofen pump and spent more time in the pool during that stay. Eventually, he and his wife, Catina, moved from their home in Florida to McDonough, Georgia, just to be closer to Shepherd. Now, they come to the pool together two times a week. Each time, Ronnie spends some time stretching with help from his wife, before swimming 32 laps. 

“After I do that, I’m just relaxed,” Ronnie says. “I can tell my muscles are free. It’s like all my pain went away.” 

Ronnie and Catina have especially enjoyed getting to know the therapists and lifeguards who work at the pool, who they credit with teaching them best practices and new workout ideas. 

“They are so amazing, and they know what they’re doing,” says Catina. “They showed me how to support him in the pool, they showed us different [equipment] we can use — like the foam dumbbells ... Ronnie uses the Hoyer [lift] to get into the pool, but before that he was being transferred over, and they’re very, very careful and helpful moving people. So that’s greatly appreciated because it’s so easy to injure your skin if you’re not properly cared for ... I’m a registered nurse, so I look at things like that, and I’m like, ‘Oh my gosh, these people are so amazing.’” 

Kelli has had similar experiences — she says she’s learned a lot from different physical therapists both at Shepherd and elsewhere. 

“I have been in so much physical therapy all my life, since age 26,” Kelli says. “I took a little bit from here and a little bit from there. Each physical therapist, I would say, ‘I work out in the pool, show me how to do straight leg raises. Help me improve my squats. How do I do tricep work?’ I would ask because each one would show me something different.” 

Kelli and Ronnie also both appreciate aspects of ProMotion beyond the pool itself. For one, they both emphasize how affordable the membership is for the quality of facilities and services provided. 

“I think it’s the best deal in town,” Kelli says. “The gym is just stunning, as well as the pool. If I did want to go upstairs to the gym, I know with Lisa [Eagen, BS, ACSM-CPT, the lead exercise physiologist for ProMotion] and her team, there’ll be a ton of people to help me.” 

Ronnie also appreciates the accessibility of not only the pool itself, but the other spaces in the pool area. 

“The nice thing about the pool is the atmosphere when you roll in there,” he says. “It’s huge and has everything you need there to work. We go in, get our stuff set up, there’s a nice place for us to set up a mat and get a shower, everything.” 

Sykes says the added accessibility of Shepherd Center itself, coupled with access to equipment like the Hoyer lift or shower chairs, sets the ProMotion pool apart from other pools in the area. The combination of accessibility, staff expertise, and a warm atmosphere make the pool a destination for disabled and non-disabled swimmers alike, Kelli says. 

“It is worth the drive if people are somewhere in the metro Atlanta region, if they need that level of support and kindness and care to ensure they are moving and staying as active as possible,” Kelli says."But for non-disabled community members, I think it’s a secret. I think they see the sign, Shepherd Center, a catastrophic hospital, and they assume, ‘Oh I can’t go there.’ But that [can’t be] farther from the truth. You can go there and you will find a wonderful experience.” 

Sykes encourages community members interested in using the pool to join the ProMotion Fitness Center and then set up an appointment for a pool check-off. And for those who feel uncertain about using the pool, she encourages them to reach out for a consultation where she can help them assess their abilities before they commit to a membership. 

To enroll at ProMotion Fitness today, visit Shepherd Center’s website. Who knows, you may be the next Mermaid of the Month! 

Written by Erin Kenney 
 

Gabrielle won the title in March. The competition included delivering a speech to share her advocacy platform, which focuses on improving accessibility in Georgia's transportation and infrastructure.

But there was a time when Gabrielle had to work hard just to regain her voice. In Sept. 2019, she sustained a spinal cord injury during an ATV excursion while vacationing in Aruba. The hospital in Aruba was not equipped to perform the surgery she needed, so she was medically transported to Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. She arrived at Grady on Oct. 2. There, she had surgery for her spinal cord injury and was treated for other complications. And she learned about Shepherd Center.

“To be honest, I had no knowledge of Shepherd because, of course, I never knew anyone with a spinal injury or brain injury,” she says. But when she and her family were contemplating where Gabrielle should go after leaving Grady, “Somehow all of the nurses and the doctors were saying, ‘Shepherd, Shepherd, Shepherd, Shepherd.’ That's all I was hearing in the hospital,” she recalls.

Gabrielle transferred to Shepherd Center on Oct. 31.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the Halloween of 2019. Everybody was dressed up in Halloween costumes.”

Gabrielle participated in inpatient therapy at Shepherd for nine months. In speech therapy, she worked on regaining her voice; in physical therapy, she worked to strengthen her core, roll, and improve bed mobility.

“OT, they showed me … dressing, my bathing, getting my clothes put on, things like that — how to do my own makeup, hair, take my medicine, med management,” she recalls. She also worked to strengthen her hand function.

On recreation therapy outings, she learned how to navigate other tasks.

“They taught me how to use my credit cards, how to ride the public transportation system.” The pageant-winner’s favorite outing was to a nearby nail salon. But she enjoyed spending time at the hospital, too.

“I used to love going out to the [Anna and Hays Mershon] Secret Garden. That was another one of my go-tos, especially during COVID,” she says.

And as she explored the hospital in her power chair, she forged friendships with other patients and staff.  “I gained relationships — still to this day, like people know me by name,” she says. She keeps in touch with some of the people she connected with while she was an inpatient at Shepherd.

Gabrielle, now 41, graduated from Shepherd in 2020 and returned to her home. She says she was “career-driven” before her accident. She studied business at Georgia State University and started working at Walmart. She worked her way up to general store manager and then moved to the digital space at Walmart.com. Although she has decided she can’t return to work right now, she has made advocating for people with disabilities her focus. When she saw a post about Ms. Wheelchair on social media, she connected with previous winners to get more information, and the rest is history.

In June, Gabrielle received a commendation from Georgia Governor Brian Kemp for her advocacy work. She’s busy sharing her platform and fundraising to cover the cost of a trip to Michigan this August, where she’d like to compete for another crown — Ms. Wheelchair America 2027.

Until then, she still comes to Shepherd on an outpatient basis — she says it’s one of her second homes. You may even see her in the hallway — you can’t miss the crown.

Written by Ruth Underwood

The event was born out of what used to be Research Day, an all-day affair that united researchers and clinicians for poster presentations, research updates, and a keynote address. The annual event was put on pause in 2020, and as leadership discussed how to revive it, the idea for Research Week was born.

“We wanted to create opportunities for more staff to engage with research without having to step away from their daily responsibilities,” says Shepherd Center’s Vice President of Research and Innovation Deborah Backus, PT, Ph.D., FACRM. “By offering sessions during lunchtime throughout the week, we were able to bring research directly into the flow of clinical care and make it more accessible to everyone.”

Dr. Backus kicked off the week by detailing the sessions attendees could look forward to: presentations from colleagues on their ongoing research, “lighting round” presentations from clinicians on their work, and a keynote address. Shepherd’s Chief Medical Officer, Michael Yochelson, M.D., MBA, also spoke at the kickoff, highlighting how research at Shepherd is a team effort and how research directly informs and influences clinical practice, as well as how gaps in clinical care can inform research questions and innovative strategies.

“At Shepherd Center, research is not something we do in addition to clinical care. It is part of how we care,” Dr. Yochelson says. “It is how we advance the field of rehabilitation, create better outcomes for our patients, and honor the trust our patients place in us.” 

Throughout the week, research scientists and clinicians alike presented their work and recent studies. On Wednesday, James S. Krause, Ph.D., a distinguished university professor in the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC) College of Health Professions, the director of the Center for Rehabilitation Research in Neurologic Conditions, and a frequent Shepherd Center collaborator, gave the keynote address. In his presentation, "Surviving and Prospering After Physical Disability: 50 Years of Research, 20,040 Days of Survival," Dr. Krause discussed his own experience living with a spinal cord injury, as well as his research, a 50-year study regarding spinal cord injury (SCI), quality employment, and longevity.

To round out the week, on Friday, research leadership presented awards for research posters and presentations, recognizing work for its excellence, innovation, and applicability to the clinic space. And Dr. Backus and her team are already preparing for next year’s Research Week, with hopes to include more Shepherd staff members and community researchers alike.

“Research Week highlights what makes Shepherd Center unique — the close partnership between those asking important questions and those delivering exceptional care,” Dr. Backus says. “When research and clinical practice inform one another, we accelerate innovation and create better outcomes for the people we serve.”

Congratulations to this year’s award winners!

Posters

Best Overall: Affective Clinical Measures Correlate with Connectivity between Brain Regions Associated with Vestibular Function in Chronic Mild Traumatic Brain Injury. Piper Lashley; Joe Behnke; Jeremy Smith; Vishwadeep Ahluwalia; Ashwini Tulpule; Rachael Frank; Jason W. Allen; Russell K. Gore

Most Innovative: Standardizing Seating Clinic Patient Education Using AI-Supported Multimodal Tools: A Quality Improvement Initiative. Tori Fallgren, PT, D.P.T., NCS, ATP; Kashun Davis, BSIE, MBA, MSIT, LSSBB

Most Translational: Turning the Tide on Pressure Injuries: A Multidisciplinary Approach Through PDSA Cycles. Kimberly Levenson BSN, RN, CRRN, CWOCN, CFCN; Ethan Goff, RN; Anna Murdock, BS, LSSBB

Papers

Best Overall: Toward precision stroke rehabilitation: an integrated causal machine learning and clinician feedback approach. ​Aaron Baird, PhD; Houping Xiao, PhD; Yusen Xia, PhD; Chloe Sellers, MA; Katheryn Metzger, OTR/L, MBA; Karen Patterson, MS, CCC-SLP; Liv Nyankori, BSW, BSN, RN CRRN, CCM; Raeda Anderson, PhD

Most Innovative: Development of a Structured Interview for the American Congress of Rehabilitation Medicine Diagnostic Criteria for Mild Traumatic Brain Injury. ​Rael T. Lange; Kelly C. Gillow on behalf of ACRM Brain Injury Special Interest Group Mild TBI Task Force members: Noah D. Silverberg; Tracey Wallace; William J. Panenka; Amanda Rabinowitz; Jaclyn A.Stephens; Kristen Dams-O’Connor; Richard Delmonico; Min Jeong P. Graf; Alice Sau Han Kam; Quratulain Khan; Anthony H. Lequerica; Zainab AlLawati; Gary McKinney; Jacob I. McPherson; Drew Nagele; Deborah Snell; Josh Kamins; Jennifer Wethe

Most Translational: Exploring Integration of Support for Co-Occurring Substance Use-Related Needs in InterdisciplinaryTraumatic Brain Injury Treatment for Military Service Members and Veterans. ​Katherine L. McCauley, PhD; Tracey Wallace, MS,CCC-SLP; Timothy P. Moran, PhD; Javier Palacios, BS; Dina Forehand, MS, CCM; Jacquelyn Breitenstein,MS, CTRS, CCM; Shannon C. Miller, MD; Russell K.Gore, MD

Written by Erin Kenney

In October 2024, Ryan, then 30, had a hemorrhagic stroke. As he was getting ready for work one morning, he got lightheaded and lost his balance. After falling a few times over the next several minutes, he realized it was time to call 911.

“That took a lot of courage for me to do because before, I was never one to ask for any kind of help in any way,” he says.

Ryan dragged himself 45 feet to the front door and unlocked it for the paramedics before losing consciousness. In hindsight, he says things could’ve been worse, since 15 minutes earlier, he would’ve been asleep, and 15 minutes later, he would’ve been driving to work. “God's timing was shown in that situation,” he says. “So, I've come to terms, and I'm glad it happened when it did.”

He spent the next 20 days in Huntsville Hospital, 10 of them in the ICU. While there, he had surgery to remove part of his skull to reduce the pressure from the bleeding in his brain.

Ryan’s mom, Terri Edwards, remembers how overwhelmed she felt immediately following Ryan’s stroke.

“I had no idea what to do,” she recalls. “One of our friends in the ICU waiting room that night or the next day said, ‘Well, what's going to happen? Are they going to send him to Shepherd Center?’ And I go, ‘Oh my God, what is Shepherd Center? Where is it? I wanted to crawl under a chair, and I'm not kidding because … I could not see through the next day.”

Once Ryan transferred to Shepherd Center, it didn’t take long for Terri to feel certain they had made the right decision.

“So, we get there, and we're sitting outside of his room because the doctors are still assessing him and getting him settled. And we look like deer caught in headlights,” she recalls. “And I would say nine out of every 10 staff persons, from a janitor to a doctor, a tech, a nurse, whoever, walked by and they would say, ‘Are you okay? Do you need anything? Are you waiting on somebody?’ They would talk to us. And by the end of the first two hours … I knew we were in the right place.”

Terri stayed at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences while Ryan was inpatient so she could support him throughout his rehabilitation. Her husband and Ryan’s siblings and friends came to visit many weekends and for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but often, it was just team Ryan and Terri, working through the fear and frustration and celebrating small victories with each other and Shepherd staff.

Terri says that it brought her closer to Ryan than ever. “I will take that to my grave as a special time with my son. But,” she jokes, “I do not recommend that kind of bonding.”

Therapy and Beyond

Ryan and his therapists got right to work to rebuild his physical strength and address his cognitive issues. Ryan was using a wheelchair and had weakness in his left side, especially his left arm.  

His long-term memory was intact, but his short-term memory was a challenge, as was fatigue from mental strain and difficulty with problem-solving.

“I had planning issues early on in the therapy exercises. I have a bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering. I kind of breezed through high school, in a manner of speaking. And the type of worksheets I was working on in speech therapy, I knew they were easy for me to do, but at the time, it took a lot of mental strain, and that was one of the most frustrating parts,” he recalls.

Other tasks were also a challenge. “I had a very difficult time practicing filling my pillbox and working through my medications, especially during my time at Shepherd Center,” he says. “It took until 3 months after we got back home from Shepherd until I started doing it all by myself without any help.”

Ryan says that all his therapists were fantastic. But other parts of his time at Shepherd stood out as well. For one, he enjoyed getting to know other patients.

“We got to go out to a couple of the restaurants down the street with some other patients, and we got to meet up and make some friends with a couple of the other patients and share experiences with them,” he says. “I think that's really good — getting the patients together is really good.”

And he attended some of the Sunday services led by Shepherd Center’s chaplains, which he said offered “something that I needed to hear in that moment.” One example was a Bible verse from Ecclesiastes.

“’A time to cry and a time to laugh, a time to grieve and a time to dance,’” he reads. “So, especially during that recovery process, there was times that it was perfectly fine to just let it out, cry it out, and then there was times to laugh and then grieve and then have fun and dance, you know.”

Celebrating Milestones

After six weeks as an inpatient in Shepherd’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program, Ryan continued therapy at Pathways, Shepherd’s outpatient brain injury rehabilitation program.

When he discharged from inpatient, Ryan was walking with assistance. Terri recalls the day he was able to walk into Pathways independently and how it felt a little like she was sending him out into the world on his own for the first time.

“I dropped him off at Pathways, and they finally cleared him to take his [gait] belt off. Actually, they said, ‘Why do you still have your gait belt on? You don't need that.’ And I'm still holding it or getting ready to grab it. I'm not walking anywhere further than one inch away from him. And so he puts his little drawstring bag on his back, and he walks in. …. And he looked at me, and I said, ‘Bye, Ryan, have a good day. Stay on green,’” she laughs. On a more serious note, she says, “I still walk beside him. If I'm not walking beside him, I'm still looking out of the corner of my eye, watching him. I don't know if I'll ever let that go.”

One of Ryan’s biggest goals was to return to work at the family business, which he partners in with his uncles, so cognitive exercises to help him prepare for the work and build mental stamina were an integral part of his therapy at Pathways.

Ryan started gradually — working half days when he wasn’t doing therapy — and now he works close to 40 hours a week, sometimes taking a power nap in the middle of the day if he needs it.

“We're in manufacturing, and I do a lot of 3D modeling and project managing. And before my stroke, I was able to do a lot of the manual labor work, fill in, but I just do a lot more computer work now.”

Ryan lived with his parents for close to a year and a half after being discharged from Shepherd. Then he bought a house close to work and to his parents’ home. He and his mom both say that managing the process of selling his old house and buying a new one is a testament to how far he has come in his recovery.

“Really, what affected him most from the stroke, brain-wise, was his processing skills. But he's doing so much better,” Terri says.

Ryan moving into his own place was another moment when Terri felt like she had to let go a bit and let Ryan do things for himself.

“I knew once he got in his own house, I'm going to have to stay away. He's going to have to figure things out and ways to do things differently … But I think he's really enjoying his independence again, of course, and I am too. I feel independent again, too.”

It’s a milestone that Terri admits she had a hard time even imagining in the early days after Ryan’s stroke.

“His speech therapist at Shepherd Center said, the first time she met him, ‘What is your goal? … Is your goal to live independently again?’ And … I'm sitting there looking at him, going, ‘How is this going to happen,’ you know? And now it's happened. So, I'm very grateful.”

At this point in their journey, Terri reflects on the early days and what advice she'd give to others in a similar situation.

“Now that I look back, I feel like it's not that I didn't have hope. I just didn't know how to look past the next 24 hours. But always have hope. There's always hope.”

As for Ryan, he has his eye out for his next 5K — he walked the first one with his mom, but now, Terri’s proud to say, he’s doing it on his own, with friends.

Now that he’s gotten back to work and driving, he’d like to start dating. He says he’s put an emphasis on faith playing a central role in his life, and he’s hopeful for the future.

“I know that word [hope] had a lot of weight in the hospital. It is just the envisioning myself getting back to work, getting back to drive, and being back home, living by myself, and then working on finding a woman to be in a relationship with and build a family.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

June is National Aphasia Awareness Month. Over two million people in the U.S. live with the condition, which impacts comprehension as well as written and verbal communication. Amy Waite, CCC-SLP, has worked at Shepherd Center as a speech-language pathologist for over 20 years and regularly works with patients experiencing aphasia. Here, she answers some frequently asked questions about the condition. 

What is aphasia? 

Aphasia is a language disorder caused by damage to the left side of the brain in 98% of people — there are the occasional people who develop language on the right side, but in most of us, it develops on the left. It can affect how well you understand, how well you talk, or both. It also affects reading and writing, because they're the “on paper” version of our comprehension and expression. 

Its impacts depend on the location and the size of the area of damage. You can see much more classic aphasia symptoms in stroke patients and less classic in patients with traumatic brain injuries (TBI), because the damage is more diffuse but not as deep with TBI. In stroke patients, it's very specific to an area, so it'll be much more textbook. 

There are different names to describe the different types of aphasia and its impacts: global aphasia is the most severe, impacting comprehension and communication. There’s also expressive aphasia, also called Broca’s aphasia, where people do have the comprehension piece but may struggle with spoken language. And Wernicke’s aphasia affects how well people understand what is being said. 

How do you work with patients who have aphasia? 

For many of my patients with global aphasia, they don’t enjoy coming to their speech therapy sessions. Sometimes people think I’m speaking in gibberish to them, because they don’t understand that they’re experiencing aphasia. So, you have to think outside of the box. Once, I was working with a woman who did not like speech therapy, but she liked country music, so we’d play country music. 

She could sometimes sing parts of songs, because that uses a different part of the brain. And then I'd start playing a song, and I'd write three artists on pieces of paper. And then I'd put them in front of her and I'd say, ‘Who's singing this song?’ And then I'd point to them and read them, so she heard me say it, she saw their names, and she was hearing the song, and then she could point to the person who she thought was singing it. So, we were working on reading and comprehension through something she enjoyed. And the only way I could even get in at first was by just playing country music and not asking any questions. But then after we got through that, and she realized she could sing a little word here and there, then it started to loosen her up, and then we went with it. 

People with expressive aphasia, they’re all about speech therapy. They’re going to sit down, and they’re going to work, and then they’ll want to do five more [drills]. They'll get frustrated, they'll make faces, they'll make noises, but then they're like, “Nope, nope, let's do it again.” And it's because they understand that something's wrong and they want to fix it. It’s unlike when people are experiencing the comprehension deficit, because the self-awareness isn’t there, and I think it can be more frustrating for them. 

If someone is experiencing aphasia, what are some strategies to assist with communication? 

Aphasia can be very frustrating. I encourage people to use humor — to laugh at themselves and try to find things that are funny, because if that’s even remotely a strategy they used in life before their injury, it can be helpful in therapy. But I do try to acknowledge the frustration and encourage people not to give up. 

But sometimes, it’s good for people to know when it’s time to take a break. If something isn’t highly important, it may be easier to talk about later. Factors like emotions can impact your ability to communicate — if you’re angry or sad or upset in any way, it’s going to be harder to communicate. 

I also encourage people to use gestures, draw pictures, and write. I’m horrible at drawing, but I use drawings to help communicate and also show my patients that it doesn’t matter what your drawings look like if they help you get your message across. And a lot of times we’ll laugh at my drawing, because if you can laugh at me, you can also laugh at yourself. 

How do I help a loved one experiencing aphasia? 

A big part of this is using less words and being direct in what you say. I'm not going to say, “Would you reach over there and pick up your shirt? I'm going to say, “Pick up the shirt.” And I'm going to make sure I use gestures, facial expression, and tone of voice to help also indicate my message, because those are all nonverbal cues that people with aphasia are still going to understand. 

So sometimes, you become an expert at acting things out or miming because people can understand what you mean. So, I'll say, “Do you want a drink?” [She acts out drinking from a cup]. Because then they'll understand, “Oh, she’s asking if I want a drink,” even if they don't understand the words. 

Again, aphasia is very frustrating. As a family member or friend, the worst thing you can do for them is finish their sentences, even if you have good intentions. Imagine if everything you want to ask me or say, I finished it for you and told you half of what you were trying to say. So, I encourage people to be patient and let their loved ones work on their communication. 

What if someone needs additional aphasia therapy after their rehabilitation at Shepherd? 

There are some intensive aphasia programs around the country. Most people could still benefit from additional aphasia therapy when they’re leaving Shepherd Center. If patients go to our outpatient programs, they'll still get speech therapy at Pathways. But a fair number of patients still go on to one of the aphasia programs. 

One example is the University of Michigan Aphasia Program. That's like the granddaddy of all of them. But there are others, like The Aphasia Center in St. Petersburg, Florida. And I know the other speech therapists and many of our doctors [at Shepherd] recommend these facilities, too. They’re just more intensive, like six hours of aphasia therapy a day. And these programs have great outcomes, regardless of the time passed since injury. 

Usually, I introduce the topic to the patients while they're inpatient, because the programs can be very expensive and they're not covered by insurance. So, I’ll say, “Hey, if you want to do a fundraiser, if you want to do a GoFundMe, here is something that you could use it for, if your communication isn't where you want it to be.” 

Does aphasia go away or improve? 

Technically, if you read about it, there's no cure for aphasia. But you can see people recover well enough that they are able to function without any communication deficits at all. And you can see anything in between, from no change to partial recovery — people whose communication is functional, but maybe they still struggle a little bit with talking. So, while there is no “cure,” a person can recover enough to live a fully functional life without having to use any compensatory strategies. 


Responses have been edited for length and clarity. 

Interview by Erin Kenney

“I'm doing the best that I can today, and that's good enough.”

After 23 years as an active-duty military member, including service in the special forces, and more than a decade as a government contractor, Brian decided recently that it was time to retire. He also realized that he could no longer ignore the injuries he had sustained during his service and the mental health challenges he was facing.

“I was having a lot of signs and symptoms of TBI [traumatic brain injury] and PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder]. And I'll freely admit this now, I was in denial. And I was hiding it. And the way I was hiding it was by continuing to work overseas. But, you know, hindsight is 20/20, and now I know that all of that stuff is cumulative. … My wife and I, we were not getting along. I didn't realize how bad I was … I would get mad at things, but I could never let it go.”

He was also dealing with vision problems, balance issues, and headaches. Still, he says that, whatever his physical symptoms, he had learned to compensate and that many special forces members do the same, making it harder to get help. The phenomenon is called “operator syndrome,” Brian learned during his time at Shepherd Center’s SHARE Military Initiative.

“We go to a provider for help, and they do the standard tests on us. We pass their standard tests with flying colors, and they don’t know what to do with us … They say there's nothing wrong with you, and we go home thinking, ‘What is wrong with me?’ So, it's really frustrating. And that leads to depression because you know something’s wrong with you, and you don’t know what. And that leads to anger because that's how you release your emotion,” he explains. “You don't want to bring that home. And I was slowly bringing it home. A little bit of baggage would get left off every time I'd come home from a trip until there was so much baggage, the room was overflowing.”

Brian heard about SHARE, which serves military veterans, service members, and first responders with traumatic brain injuries and mental health concerns, through friends who had been clients at SHARE.

“I’m like, ‘Hey, let me give it a shot.’ And the biggest thing that turned me on was it’s outpatient, but you're staying right there, right? So, you don't have distractions. You can just concentrate on healing. But you're not locked in, either. I loved it. I mean, the model for their program is amazing.”

So, in 2025, Brian came to SHARE for three months. He worked with a psychologist to address his PTSD and found that those sessions offered a “huge release.” He participated in occupational, physical, speech, and recreation therapy, working with his therapists to improve his balance, manage his headaches, and improve his communication with his family.

“My relationship with my wife has probably never been better,” Brian says. “We learned how to speak with each other. I mean, my hat's off to Cynthia [Zmroczek] in speech, because she really was the one that helped us. She taught us how to speak to each other, if that makes sense. But here's the deal: both parties need to be willing to work at it, and I was happy that my wife was willing to work with me.”

Brian also found the group sessions with other SHARE clients especially meaningful.

“It's a small group, but it's still more than a couple of people. And we are all there, really, for the same reasons, and just being humbled. You know what I mean? That was for me, like, ‘Okay, I'm not the only one going through this stuff.’ So that helped out a lot.”

He says physical and occupational therapy, along with medication, helped with his vision, mood, and reduced the frequency and severity of his headaches.

“I woke up one morning, and I didn't have a headache, and I didn't know what to do because that's the first time I woke up without a headache.”

In recreation therapy, he found that clients who had been at SHARE longer than he had been were there to offer empathy, guidance, and support. Music therapy rekindled his love for playing the guitar, something he hadn’t tried since he sustained serious injuries to his left hand, including losing a finger, because of a gunshot wound in Afghanistan. 

“It gave me the confidence to start learning and playing again … And then I also know that playing guitar really helps out with cognitive ability.”

Other clients at SHARE introduced him to trout fishing, a pastime he was initially skeptical about but now truly enjoys. That interest led him to get involved with Project Healing Waters, a national nonprofit that uses fly fishing as a therapeutic intervention for active military members and veterans. There, he’s found another supportive community.

SHARE staff also helped Brian get enrolled at the Veterans Administration, so after returning home to Greeneville, Tennessee, he’s been able to continue therapy, including exposure therapy to help him manage PTSD and more occupational therapy for his vision and balance.

He says he has a long way to go, but he credits SHARE with helping him make great strides.

“I can't say enough about the program overall. I really can’t. It has helped me so much. And my wife and my family.”

And he encourages others, including his sons, who are both active-duty military, to get help if they need it.

“Although I'm not active anymore, I'm still trying to lead by example, by showing them, don't hide your injuries, go get it checked out. Go get fixed early so it doesn't become a lingering issue. That, and always look at your buddies. They might be showing signs and symptoms that they don't even know they've got,” he says. “I'm trying to pay it forward through them as well.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

In retrospect, Jodi Arminio, 70, says she started noticing her symptoms in 2010.

“I had periodic weakness and numbness in my left leg, but feeling would come back in 30 seconds. By the end of 2010, the weakness had virtually disappeared,” she explains.

The following year, Jodi began experiencing severe loss of vision in her left eye that a neuro-ophthalmologist discovered was due to inflammation of her optic nerve. She brought these issues to neurologist Yazan Houssami, M.D.

“He put all my symptoms together immediately and did a blood test to confirm that I had neuromyelitis optica [spectrum disorder] (NMOSD). I’m so thankful he recognized what I had so fast, or I wouldn’t have been so lucky.”

In late 2012, Dr. Houssami referred Jodi to receive specialized care at Shepherd Center’s Andrew C. Carlos Multiple Sclerosis Institute, which treats a variety of autoimmune diseases, under the guidance of Ben Thrower, M.D.

“Dr. Thrower is amazing. He was able to explain everything about my condition in terms I could understand,” Jodi says. “The entire team has been very helpful, including the infusion nurses. Not one of them there isn’t an angel.”

NMOSD is an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation of the spinal cord and optic nerves. It presents similarly to multiple sclerosis (MS) as it attacks the body’s nervous system.

“At one point, NMOSD was thought to be a variant of MS before they discovered the antibody in NMOSD. It mimics MS, and a lot of NMOSD patients were first diagnosed as having MS and treated with MS drugs that they didn’t respond to. Now, there are four FDA-approved treatments for NMOSD,” Jodi says.

While the severity of NMOSD symptoms can vary greatly from person to person, Jodi describes her NMOSD as an invisible disease. While she occasionally uses a cane for stability, has loss of peripheral vision in her left eye, and experiences pain and fatigue, she says that her symptoms are managed now. It took the right treatment and hard work to get to this point.

“I feel very blessed. In the early days, I didn’t know anybody else with NMOSD. The two big organizations for NMOSD patients are the Guthy-Jackson Foundation funding NMOSD research and the Siegel Rare Neuroimmune Association (SRNA). I started connecting with them, and it was eye-opening to see so many people out there like me,” Jodi says.

That’s why in 2014, Jodi decided to begin a support group hosted at Shepherd Center. Co-run with her right-hand person, Travis Edwards, the group has one primary focus.

“We want to help [others with neuroimmune diseases] recognize that they are not alone,” Jodi says. “Inviting anyone with a rare neuroimmune disorder, we gather monthly to welcome folks new to the disease, listen to members with questions or issues, celebrate milestones, and keep in touch with those experiencing setbacks or new attacks."

Jodi is optimistic that there will someday be a cure for NMOSD. She contributes to NMOSD research by participating in a study at Shepherd to determine the long-term cognitive and physical effects of the disease.

“I can't thank Shepherd enough,” Jodi says. “They've been wonderful about providing accessible space for our support group to meet. As a patient, I really appreciate the comprehensive care I receive and friendships I’ve made.”

Written by Damjana Alverson

Are you living with NMOSD?

Shepherd Center researchers are inviting volunteers to join a research study testing a new, non-invasive device designed to help improve walking for individuals with NMOSD who have difficulty walking. Read more about the research opportunity here.

Jonathan Booth enlisted in the U.S. Army at 18, drawn by a mix of reasons: a desire for stability, the benefits of serving, and — most of all — a sense of purpose. From July 2022 to June 2024, he served as an infantryman. 

His military career was cut short when he fell 12 feet and landed on his head. He doesn’t remember the fall, but he does remember the concussion and the headache that followed. After returning from the field, his symptoms escalated: dizziness, nausea, and migraines that were hard to predict and harder to power through. He also injured his right arm, leaving nerve damage that can cause him to suddenly lose sensation. The head trauma eventually led to a medical discharge. 

“I didn’t know what to do when I got out of the Army. I was lost,” Jonathan says. He wanted to find a new purpose and connected with Camp Southern Ground’s Warrior PATHH program, which aims to facilitate post-traumatic growth among combat veterans. 

During a meeting, Jonathan talked about his injury and the symptoms that continued to shape his life. Jennifer Selke, Ph.D., Warrior PATHH director, recommended Jonathan try Shepherd Center’s SHARE Military Initiative, an evidence-based rehabilitation program for military veterans, service members, and first responders who are ready to accept help and healing for traumatic brain injuries and mental health concerns. 

Jonathan enrolled in SHARE in September 2025 and spent 12 weeks in the program, working on improving his short-term memory, physical and cognitive symptoms, and overall well-being. 

“They have everything laid out for you,” he says. “You just have to show up and be willing to do what needs to be done.” 

When Jonathan arrived, he had spent much of the previous months in bed. He was stiff and couldn’t move his neck, and even rolling to his side could make the room spin. Specialized physical therapy helped him rebuild mobility and confidence in movement. Cognitive rehabilitation helped improve his short-term memory. 

Healing also happened outside traditional therapy rooms. In recreational therapy, Jonathan practiced cognitive and balance tasks in Shepherd’s heated pool — walking backward, tracking a straight line, and turning his head side to side while staying steady. 

Returning to Daily Life and Work 

After graduating from SHARE on Dec. 22, 2025, Jonathan wanted to rebuild structure in his day-to-day life, including returning to work. Through SHARE’s vocational rehabilitation program, he met Post-Acute Vocational Rehabilitation Specialist Gabriella (Gabby) King, M.Ed., CRC, NCC, who helped him translate momentum in rehab into next steps in the community. 

“Gabby is great,” he says. “She’s very kind and go-getting.” 

Before Jonathan left SHARE, they talked about job options, and they stayed in touch afterward. Through SHARE’s long-standing partnership with The Home Depot, King connected Jonathan with a Home Depot representative, helping him land an interview within a week. In February 2026, Jonathan started a part-time role in customer service with the company. 

“I was able to move to full-time in a month. It’s been a good change of pace,” he says. 

Jonathan has also been accepted to Jacksonville University and plans to pursue air traffic control, working toward a bachelor’s degree in aviation management. King has continued to help him along the way, offering insight and preparing him as he navigates the process of securing veteran benefits for his school funding. 

“The staff at SHARE is absolutely phenomenal,” he says. “They’re very caring, patient, and observant. They know what they’re doing.” 

Today, Jonathan’s return to work is more than a job update — it’s a marker of momentum. With diminished symptoms, stronger skills, and a plan for what comes next, he’s building a new life with purpose. 

Written by Damjana Alverson

April 13, 2026

I’ve never been much for big birthday celebrations. Usually, they feel like arbitrary markers on a timeline I’m too busy living to scrutinize. But as my 38th birthday appears on the horizon, the gravity of 40 has started to pull at me. It’s that age people approach with a specific cocktail of dread and apprehension—the supposed peak of the hill where the climb ends, and the steep, accelerated descent begins.

Most men my age are just now starting to worry about their knees clicking when they stand up or their son finally beating them in a foot race. They are bracing for a midlife transition they feel entirely unequipped for. They look at the coming decade as a loss of agency, a slow-motion surrender of the vitality they took for granted in their twenties. But as I sat with that collective anxiety, I realized something unexpected: I’ve already been there. In fact, I’ve been living in that “next stage” for years.

When I was 30, my stroke thrust the physical and mental reality of aging upon me with absolutely no warning. There was no gradual decline, no slow fading of abilities. It was a pattern interrupt of the highest order. Overnight, the invincible version of myself was retired. Bending down to pick something up was no longer a given; getting back up was a calculated victory. My vision blurred, and for a long time, the simple independence of driving a car was a distant dream. I was a young man trapped in a body that had suddenly skipped multiple decades of wear and tear.

At the time, it felt like my life had been reset, similar to a massive construction project being suddenly demolished just before completion. I watched from the sidelines as my peers were still sprinting uphill, hitting career milestones and physical peaks. Meanwhile, I was forced to restart the foundation from scratch. I had to double down on occupational and physical therapy, treating my recovery like a grueling full-time job. I learned the humbling language of incremental progress—the kind of patience most people don’t have to face until their seventies.

But here is the “uncomfortable truth” I’ve discovered: that trauma gave me an unfair advantage. While others are just now packing their bags for the challenges of getting older, I am already well-equipped and incredibly prepared for that “second first step”. When that first colonoscopy rolls around, that procedure will be child’s play to me, who has had two open heart surgeries and was once a frequent flier around the Atlanta hospital system. I skipped the “uncomfortable part of life” where you slowly realize you aren’t invincible because that realization was forced on me in an instant. I have already mourned the loss of my “peak” self, and in that mourning, I found a much more resilient version of who I am.

By reframing this through a positive lens, I’ve gained a wealth of experience in handling the “tricky situations” that leave other dads reeling. I know what it’s like to lose control and, more importantly, I know how to claw it back. I’ve learned that recovery, like life, isn’t a straight line and there are no autosaves. You have to show up every day with a vulnerable posture, willing to fail in order to thrive eventually. This isn’t just about physical recovery; it’s about the psychological armor you build when you’ve already seen the “worst-case scenario” and realized you’re still standing.

So, when the anxiety of forty hits my friends, I won’t join in their panic. Instead, I’ll be the one waiting for them at the top of the hill, ready to show them the way down. I’ve navigated the fog, I’ve felt the knees click, and I’ve mastered the art of the “second first step.” I’ve been there, done that—just a little earlier than I hoped, and with a lot more wisdom than I would have had otherwise. The descent doesn’t scare me; I’ve been practicing my footing for over seven years.

The "Happiest Place on Earth" Is Actually a Rehab Hospital

March 9, 2026

In the chaotic, terrifying blur right after my stroke, I was a passenger in my own life. Mentally unfit, lucid only in fits and starts, I had no say in the torrent of decisions—hospitals, doctors, insurance, therapists. My recovery plan was being charted by others.

But looking back with the crystal clarity of 20/20 hindsight, I realize how profoundly fortunate I was that the worst day of my life happened just a few miles from a sanctuary:  Shepherd Center.
It’s no wonder people travel from every corner of the Earth, begging for one of the few available spots at this neuro and spinal rehabilitation facility. If you’ve done even surface-level research, you know Shepherd consistently ranks among the global elite.

But what truly inspires this post isn’t just their world-class ranking—it’s the deep debt of gratitude I owe to the people there, and the palpable, unforgettable feeling you get the moment you step inside.

The Most Optimistic Place on Earth

I’m grateful that my daily in-clinic therapy days are mostly behind me; doing rehab at home beats the Atlanta traffic. Yet, at least once a quarter, I still go to the main campus—or “Big Shepherd,” as we call it—for the Botox injections I receive to manage my spasticity and tone.

Every visit is a reminder of the atmosphere that makes this place unique.

You are instantly surrounded by huge, genuine smiles—from the person opening the parking garage gate to the sanitation staff, to the check-in person at the front desk. It honestly feels like the most optimistic place in the world.

Think about that for a moment. Nearly every patient walking those halls with their family is living through and actively overcoming one of life’s biggest, most unimaginable curveballs. They are in the belly of the beast—a hospital—yet the weight of that negativity is utterly absent. Instead, everyone there, patient and staff alike, is actively choosing to uplift and help.

It’s a bizarre comparison, but my interactions with the people there lead me to believe they might truly give Disneyland a run for its money for the title of “Happiest Place on Earth.”

Beyond the Brain Injury

The relationships I built at Shepherd—with doctors, nurses, and therapists—have extended far beyond the realm of my medical care.

From day one, these professionals saw me as a person, not just a guy with a brain injury. That fundamental respect and human connection are not just part of the care plan; they are the center’s soul. It’s the difference between merely recovering and truly beginning a new, post-stroke life. And for that, my debt to Shepherd Center is immeasurable.
 
Written by David Tillem, originally for his Substack, “The Second First Step.”
 

Both Elizabeth and Paul learned some of these practices through their participation in a clinical trials pilot study at Shepherd Center. The study, funded by the Samsky Spine and Pain Research Fund, aimed to explore the feasibility and acceptability of a mindfulness meditation training program and to determine whether it could lead to improved ability to cope with pain and increased health-related quality of life outcomes. Having the tools to help manage frustrating calls and heavy traffic was a bonus.

Since breaking three vertebrae and sustaining other injuries in a fall about eight years ago, Elizabeth has experienced chronic pain. Her doctor’s warning to be careful, coupled with a fear of falling again, led her to stop many of her activities, which, in turn, led to isolation and depression at the loss of her socially and physically active life. She began coming to The Dean Stroud Spine and Pain Institute about a year ago, participating in physical therapy and adaptive yoga with great results. When she heard about the Mindfulness-Meditation Study, she knew she’d like to give it a try. 

“Because I want to get better. It's mindfulness and yoga, and I thought, ‘There's something here,’” she recalls. “I knew how much the yoga had helped, so I thought, ‘Well, more ways to look at something, more ways to move.’ It's just been incredible.”

Paul has been a patient at the Andrew C. Carlos Multiple Sclerosis Institute for about 20 years and has participated in research at Shepherd in the past. He was already curious about meditation, so when Erica Sutton, MA, CRC, clinical research coordinator at the Virginia Crawford Research Institute at Shepherd Center and principal investigator for the 12-week study, asked if he’d like to participate, he was in. 

“I have been on the fringes of trying to understand meditation and what it does,” says Paul. “Then Erica, out of the blue, called. ‘Hey, Paul, I was thinking about you. You said you always want to participate in things, and I think I have the right choice for you here — it's called mindful meditation.’”

Sutton, who practices meditation herself and holds two clinical meditation certifications, says she wanted to introduce people to its benefits. 

“I built a protocol based around meditation, and for people who are new to meditation and mindfulness, I wanted to show some of the different ways that people can engage in these mindful practices.”

Connecting and Reflecting

Participants in the program attended weekly classes at Shepherd Center and a weekly virtual support group session for eight weeks, followed by four weeks of practicing on their own, during which they could continue to attend virtual sessions. 

During each class, Sutton and her colleague, Alexandra Juarez, EP, RYT 200 HR, introduced participants to a variety of meditation and mindfulness practices, including visual meditation, sound baths, breathing techniques, guided body scans, and mindful eating.

Sutton and Juarez intentionally included time in each session for participants to catch up, share reflections on the tools they’d learned about, and connect with one another — a practice Elizabeth found especially meaningful. 

“Being able to talk to people … sharing how we handle it mentally, emotionally, and physically, even though all our stuff is different, has been a really important part of the mindfulness group,” she says.  

“Part of the benefit of having the study in person is that they get to have a social connection as well, and they really do enjoy that,” says Sutton. “Being able to see people with different diagnoses and to come together collectively with the same goal in mind has been a beautiful process.”

Between classes and during the four weeks of independent practice, participants kept journals documenting the mindful meditation they tried throughout the week and their reflections on the practice. 

“At the end of the study, we will use the diaries to collect those analyses to see if there were any improvements in areas of their overall well-being,” Sutton explains. “We're looking at any changes, primarily in the relationship to pain, so that's something that's important about this study. 

Although we targeted people with chronic neuropathic pain, it was not because we were looking to cure anything, but to build a better relationship with how they navigate and manage life with chronic pain. So, we're looking at their relationship with pain and overall quality of life. Was there any improvement with that? And then of course the safety and efficacy of the study.”

And Sutton hopes that this pilot study of 10 participants will lead to something bigger.

“It's a feasibility study. We're taking this hypothesis, and we're testing it in a small group with the hope that we can conduct more research on a larger scale, and thus translate that into clinical practice.” 

A Variety of Tools

Paul says he has noticed a change in his stress levels and energy.

“I'm like, ‘Am I really noticing that much of a difference that fast?’” he reflects. “My pain levels have gone down from like a six to a two. … I'm sleeping seven hours very easily. I'm in a deeper sleep. … I’m waking up with a lot of energy.”

And he’s even been able to use some of the relaxation techniques he’s learned instead of taking pain medication. 

“Through all the different techniques I've learned, I don't need it. When I feel that pain going across my shoulders or down my spine or my lower back or even on my leg, I'll just do a nervous system reset, and it's been working,” he says.

Elizabeth says learning so many different forms of meditation has been very helpful. 

“I might have known a bit of here and there, but to be very thoughtful, if I'm in pain, let me try this. And finding out which things work for me,” she explains. “Each class was a focus on a different way of meditating. I've known my whole life, ‘Oh, meditation is good,’ and I’d try it, and my mind gets too busy somewhere, and I just haven't been able to meditate. So, learning which ways to meditate has been so important — which ones work for me.”

“It's been very rewarding to hear the feedback and watch what tools they use,” Sutton says. “What we teach is that there's no right or wrong. It's a personal practice, and what's important is that they are making the space to carve out that time for themselves and to use whatever feels best for them in the moment.”

Paul also appreciates having a variety of tools to try. 

“I've used every single technique, and I found it very beneficial. It's a
healing of the soul, in my opinion,” Paul says. “I feel like when you're doing these things, you find yourself, you really get in touch with yourself, with your body, and it's been refreshing.”

Elizabeth says her daughter has noticed how she’s becoming more of her old self again, getting out, reconnecting with friends and family, and engaging in life.

“It's just progress every day,” Elizabeth says. “It has been life changing.” 

If you’d like to find out more about research at Shepherd Center, visit https://shepherd.org/research/redefining-rehab/find-studies/

Written by Ruth Underwood
 

Located in the Hazel Family Garden at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences, SOLACE is a larger-than-life flower in bloom. With a mirror finish of stainless steel, the sculpture reflects its environment — blue skies, the new family residence, and the passersby who . 

“My goal with this piece, SOLACE, was to create something beautiful and captivating that would offer a moment of calm respite for the visitors of Shepherd Center,” Landis says. 

The design and construction of the sculpture took five months and culminated on the installation day in October. With help from the Shepherd Center facilities team, the sculpture was carefully installed in the garden. 

Later that week, the Mershons, Landis, and Shepherd staff and board members gathered in the garden for an intimate dedication ceremony, where Landis discussed his approach and presented the Mershons with a small gift — a model version of the sculpture they generously donated. 

The sculpture isn’t the only way the Mershons have left their mark on Shepherd Center. At the hospital’s annual Angel Luncheon in 2014, it was announced that the Secret Garden, located discretely between the hospital building and Peachtree Road, would be renamed the Anna and Hays Mershon Secret Garden to recognize their generous and committed support to the hospital. 

“We have long been inspired by experiencing how Shepherd Center has restored the lives of patients and their families, and we know how instrumental Shepherd’s gardens have been to the care provided,” the Mershons shared. “As garden lovers ourselves, we are honored to support two of these gardens, the Secret Garden and the new Hazel Family Garden. We know that David Landis’s brilliant work will, indeed, bring SOLACE to generations of Shepherd patients and their families.” 

A special thank you to the Mershons, for their ongoing support of patients and their families, and to Landis, for designing the beautiful sculpture. 

Written by Erin Kenney

Gavin Cloy is an avid angler.

He’s a full-time fishing guide on Lake Lanier. But even with his plethora of fishing knowledge, fly fishing remained something he didn’t have much experience with, yet. That is, until this year’s Soque Slam.

Gavin took part in the third annual Soque Slam fishing rodeo benefitting Shepherd Center’s Recreation Therapy Program. In the three years since its inception, Soque Slam has gained devoted supporters, drawing people to the North Georgia mountains to spend a day outdoors for a good cause.

Traditionally, the tournament consists of several teams, with each group made up of one or two fishing guides, six anglers, and one former Shepherd Center patient. But this year, to protect fish populations during a drought, the tournament was split into two days: the patient participants competed on Oct. 25, 2025, while the non-patient participants competed on Jan. 31, 2026.

When Gavin visited the river in October, it marked the first time he’d gone fly fishing in over 30 years.

“It's so cool that Shepherd Center gives opportunities to people with disabilities, you know, to go out and enjoy the outdoors or, in my case, play basketball,” says Gavin, a longtime member of the Shepherd Stealers wheelchair basketball team.

Including both Shepherd Center patients and community members was a priority for Shaler Alias, a longtime Shepherd supporter and the creator of the Soque Slam. The idea came from his own love of fly fishing.

“I was standing in the river one day on a Saturday, and had to leave to drive home to Atlanta, take a shower, and put on a tuxedo and go to a fundraising gala,” he remembers. “And I thought to myself, ‘We could just have a fishing tournament here, and we could raise some money, and I wouldn't have to leave.’”

He called his friend, John Haynes, about creating a fundraising fishing tournament for Shepherd Center, made complete by including former patients and hosting an energetic afterparty.

Alias and Haynes partner with local businesses and organizations, many of them with Shepherd Center ties, to make each year a success. Trackchairs for patient participants are generously provided by Jacob Beisecker, a former Shepherd patient who started a nonprofit, Waymaker Offroad Wheelchairs, to loan trackchairs to people with mobility challenges at no cost. Drinks are provided by Republic National Distributing Company, owned by the Carlos family, longtime Shepherd Center supporters. Food is sourced and prepared by volunteers from Andee’s Army, which supports Shepherd Center’s Adolescent Program.

Andee Poulos, whose family began Andee’s Army after she completed brain injury rehabilitation at Shepherd Center over a decade ago, was a first-time Soque Slam participant this year. Her dad has been volunteering with the event since its first year, but this was the first time she made the trip to North Georgia alongside him.

For Andee, fly fishing offered something priceless in this day and age — peace and quiet.

“I really enjoyed it,” says Andee. “Being out there and having to be quiet so you can do your fishing, that was really nice. You're kind of solo — you don't have a whole lot of distractions around you — which is nice too.”

Something for Everyone

Shepherd Center’s social and fundraising calendar is lined with events throughout the year, with headliners Derby Day in the spring and The Legendary Party in the fall. But event organizers hope the Soque Slam will continue to offer something different from other fundraising events. While it is primarily a fishing tournament, the event offers something for non-anglers, too — a laid-back day enjoying cool weather and autumn foliage in the mountains, on and off the river.

October’s event included the most off-river entertainment yet, with helicopter rides over the Amicalola Gorge and an evening afterparty, meticulously planned by Alias’ wife, Patty Alias, and Bradley Sosebee.

“We had the fishing portion in the morning, and then around 1 or 2 p.m., we went back to our cabin and changed for the nighttime event, which was the concert and the dinner that my dad and his team prepared,” Andee remembers. “And then Shaler [Alias] surprised everyone at the end with a fireworks show.”

The concert featured The Grateful Dads, the Castellows, and Futurebirds, who delighted attendees with a mix of old favorites and original music. The evening also included a short presentation recognizing the tournament winners from the weekend. Duane Morrow took home the prize for the most fish, while Gavin won the prize for the largest brown trout.

“All of [Shepherd Center’s events] are amazing, but certainly with this one, I’ll be back — until they ask me to stop coming,” Gavin says with a laugh. “The river was gorgeous, the people were awesome, it was just an amazing day.”

Non-patient participants from this year’s tournament reconvened in January for their portion of the competition. The three teams, led by Daniel MacMorrow, Towers Wilen, and Alias, braved seven inches of snow for their day on the river. The Wilen team took home both prizes — $5,000 for the most fish, and $7,500 for the largest trout. The team graciously donated their winnings to Shepherd Center. The Budnick Family, who’ve supported the Soque Slam since its first year, matched the donation, raising it to $25,000 total. All in all, this year’s festivities raised over $531,000, a new record for the tournament.

The 2026 tournament is scheduled for Oct. 24, during the peak for colorful foliage (and, Alias notes, the bye week for Georgia Football!). For inquiries about participating or leading a team, contact Alias at shaler@aliasfamilyoffice.com.

Written by Erin Kenney

Darryl Tillman, 43, describes himself as fun, creative, and athletic. He loves sports, spending time with family, music, and last, but certainly not least, cooking.

In July 2024, Darryl was in a motorcycle crash that resulted in the amputation of his right leg below the knee. After 12 days at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, nine of those in the ICU, he transferred to Shepherd’s Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit (CRU).

“Before starting rehab, honestly, I didn't know what life was going to be like,” says Darryl, who lives in Covington, Georgia.

Darryl and his care team got right to work, starting with the basics, like practicing transfers to his wheelchair using a slide board, and building skills from there.

“The most rewarding was when I was able to go to the gym on the third floor, and I stood up for the first time. Carol [Ardanowski, PT, Darryl’s physical therapist] also took me down to the garden,” Darryl recalls. “We were outside, and I just started crying. I was like, ‘I haven't seen outside in two weeks, and I'm normally outside all the time.’"

As Darryl grew stronger, his occupational therapist, Jena Kelly, OTR/L, asked him about things he did before his injury that he’d like to do again. Cooking was at the top of the list. So, Darryl wheeled his way to the grocery store with Kelly by his side, and shopped for ingredients for chicken alfredo, which he prepared in Shepherd’s I Can Studio adaptive kitchen. Darryl’s wife was able to join them for the meal.

“That was definitely rewarding because that's like one of my love languages,” Darryl says. “When I cook, I like to see the expressions on people's faces. I like to hear people say, ‘Oh, man, this is good.’"

Darryl recalls Kelly’s response when he expressed doubt about returning to another of his passions, being a DJ.

“She was like, ‘You can do everything that you used to do before. It's just going to look a little different.’"

Soon after, Darryl was DJing for the patients in the CRU gym.

“Everybody was just having a blast,” he recalls.

After discharging from inpatient rehabilitation, Darryl got fitted for a prosthetic leg and returned to Shepherd for outpatient therapy.

He also served as DJ for Kelly’s wedding and later for an event at Shepherd Center.

“Now, I just put my leg on, and I walk around the house. I cook, I cut the grass … I think I heard a mentor say, ‘Your condition is not your conclusion.’ So you have to give yourself grace and just continue to work hard, and every day it's going to get better, but it all starts in the mind.”

To hear Darryl’s story in his own words, check out his video in the “Stories of Hope” video series.

Written by Ruth Underwood

 “You can do rehab in a barn if you have the right people.” — David Apple, M.D.  

This “Apple-ism” often echoes off the walls at Shepherd Center, the hospital David Apple Jr., M.D. helped start five decades ago. It uniquely captures a key part of the hospital’s philosophy — with the best therapists, you can help patients achieve more, regardless of your facilities, financial resources, or access to high-tech equipment.  

In the years since Dr. Apple helped start Shepherd Center, it has transformed into a world-renowned rehabilitation center, with a multi-building main campus, large, well-equipped therapy gyms, state-of-the-art technology, and room to grow. Thanks to Dr. Apple and his leadership, Shepherd Center also boasts a one-of-a-kind staff of over 1,800 people, all dedicated to serving patients through hope, humor, and hard work.  

Dr. Apple took a chance on Shepherd Center as an early-career doctor, eager to help those experiencing a catastrophic injury or illness. For half a century, he served Shepherd Center’s patients, staff members, and visitors with his compassion, dedication, and medical expertise.  

On March 23, 2026, Dr. Apple died at home in Atlanta, surrounded by his loved ones. Shepherd Center is saddened to say goodbye and grateful for his service, which has helped define the hospital he helped start.  

“Walk or roll through our halls, and you’ll feel Dr. Apple’s presence everywhere: in our culture of compassion, in the courage of our patients, and in the dedication of every team member,” says Jamie Shepherd, MBA, MHA, FACHE, president and CEO of Shepherd Center. “Over more than 50 years of service, Dr. Apple changed the world of rehabilitative medicine — and he did it with heart, humor, and an unshakable belief in what is possible.”  

Taking a Chance on Shepherd Center  

When Harold and Alana Shepherd and their son, James, were working to start a new rehabilitation hospital in Atlanta, they approached Dr. Apple about being the founding medical director. While Dr. Apple was still early in his career as a doctor, he had quickly amassed clinical expertise and leadership abilities.  

After his graduation from medical school at the University of Pennsylvania in 1962, he came to Atlanta, working first as a medical intern at Emory University and then in a residency in surgery at the Morehouse School of Medicine. He also completed an internship at Grady Memorial Hospital. Working in the region’s foremost trauma center, he learned firsthand how to care for patients hurt by devastating falls, car crashes, gunshot wounds, pedestrian accidents, and other serious incidents. In 1964, he joined the Air Force for two years — the last of which he served as chief of surgery. Then he worked as an orthopedic resident at the University of Cincinnati Medical Center in late 1969. He completed two fellowships, one in orthopedic rehabilitation at Rancho Los Amigos Hospital in California and another in hand surgery in Louisville, Kentucky. Then, he was the medical director for Easter Seals, an experience he said gave him the foundation to be the medical director for a brand-new facility.  

By the time the Shepherds asked Dr. Apple to sign on as the medical director of their new rehab center, he already had ambitions to lead a hospital. Plus, he was familiar with James’ story — he had been peripherally involved with his care at Piedmont Hospital after James sustained a spinal cord injury in 1973. Helping start what was then Shepherd Spinal Center was a great opportunity, as well as a huge risk. One of his colleagues warned that starting the hospital would ruin his career. But luckily, Dr. Apple was willing to take the chance.  

“I’d been trying to start a rehab center in Atlanta, and this gave me the opportunity I’d been looking for,” Dr. Apple reflected in a video filmed for the hospital’s 50th anniversary. “It all came together as if by magic.”  

Looking back, Alana says that in hiring Dr. Apple, she, Harold, and James found the best medical director they could have had.  

“When we asked him if he would consider being medical director, he said yes right away because he said he knew [a rehabilitation hospital] was needed and he knew it would succeed,” says Alana Shepherd. “We were lucky that we got the right one. That's the best part of all, [he was] the best choice that we could have had. Because he certainly believed in research, and he believed in doing the best you could and giving it your all, and also being very relaxed, and eager to be a real person — not a doctor in a white coat that looked at the baseboards and could hardly speak to anyone. He wasn't that kind of a doctor. So, we were really lucky that we had picked him.”  

Dr. Apple was Shepherd’s first medical director, but he was also much more. As a co-founder of a brand-new hospital, he had to be a cheerleader, a fundraiser, a hiring manager, and a mentor.   

Stories from those early years are now cemented in Shepherd Center lore. For example, in 1975, he asked friends to donate to the hospital if he completed the Peachtree Road Race. He made it to the finish line, and a friend named George Johnson gave him a $100 check, the first donation to Shepherd Center from anyone not involved in the hospital’s founding.  

He also helped put together the hospital’s first staff, bringing in staff members like Tammy King, MSN, ET, CRRN, CCM, who worked at the hospital for 47 years, and Herndon Murray, M.D., who worked here for 50 years. Dr. Apple was able to recruit Dr. Murray even without guaranteed funding for his position, showcasing both physicians’ belief in Shepherd’s mission. 

Staff members and volunteers remember Dr. Apple as down-to-earth, a great listener, and a gentle leader and teacher whose influence helped shape Shepherd’s culture. He was a beloved mentor for staff, always eager to share his knowledge with them. 

“Dr. Apple never asserted that he was the doctor. He was always just someone who would roll up his sleeves with everybody else,” says Jill Koval, Ph.D., ABPP-Rp, rehabilitation psychologist and psychology supervisor who has worked at Shepherd for 36 years. “And one of the most important things that he taught me as a leader was the importance of really listening, and respecting different opinions, but also thinking about the patients that we serve as whole people.”  

Sarah Morrison, PT, MBA, MHA, former chief executive officer of Shepherd Center, remembers her first impressions of Dr. Apple when she started as a physical therapist in 1984. She says he had total faith in his team. 

“When I started working with him, what I saw was he totally trusted the staff,” she recalls. “Some physicians would say, ‘Okay, physical therapy, you're going to do X, Y, and Z three times a day.’ Now, Dr. Apple never did that. He would just say, ‘Hey, evaluate and treat this patient as appropriate.’ He understood the nuances of every position of the team. He just trusted the staff and said, ‘Do what you do best.’” 

Shari McDowell, PT, DPT, FASIA, FACHE, the hospital’s current chief operating officer, joined Shepherd as a physical therapist in 1992. She remembers Dr. Apple really listening to staff — an experience she hadn’t had with working as a doctor before. 

“He was somebody who listened to every single person's opinion, and valued everything equally," she says. “It was very unusual — especially then, there was a lot of hierarchy in medicine. I remember thinking, 'This is an amazing physician. This is going to be an amazing place to work.'”

Dr. Apple took his responsibilities as medical director seriously. But one responsibility — fostering a supportive culture for his patients and staff — often required him to be not-so-serious. Sara Chapman, longtime Shepherd supporter and Board of Directors’ corporate secretary, began volunteering with the hospital when it was still at its original location. She remembers Dr. Apple as doing whatever it took to bring a smile to his patients and staff, even if he was occasionally the butt of the joke. 

“He [created] a spirit of fun in our culture,” she says. “He was the one you could always dress up, you could always throw pies at. He was always up for something that added to the spirit of enjoyment and happiness at Shepherd Center.” 

Dr. Apple also helped lead the push to move Shepherd to its location on Peachtree Road. While the unit inside West Paces Ferry allowed Shepherd Spinal Center to get its start, Dr. Apple knew they needed more space — the rehabilitation facility had a waitlist almost immediately upon opening. Plus, he felt at odds with the owners of the leasing hospital, a for-profit operation.  

“They were interested in profit. We were interested in service,” he once reflected. “That got to be a problem.”   

Thanks to the vision of the Shepherd family and Dr. Apple, on May 13, 1982, Shepherd Center moved into its own building — growing to 40 beds and with a therapy gym nearly as big as the entire previous space.   

Pioneering Research & Recreation Therapy  

Dr. Apple leaves behind a tremendous mark on Shepherd’s history. But perhaps his most enduring legacies lay in Shepherd Center’s renowned clinical programs and research initiatives.  

Dr. Apple’s clinical expertise allowed Shepherd’s Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Program to quickly become renowned nationally, and even globally. With his leadership, Shepherd Center was designated as one of only a handful of Spinal Cord Injury Model Systems (SCIMS) by the National Institute on Disability, Independent Living, and Rehabilitation Research, then a program through the U.S. Department of Education. The recognition came with a $246,000 grant, a boon to a hospital only seven years old, and it cemented Shepherd Center’s status as a leader in SCI research and rehabilitation. The hospital has continued its tenure as an SCIMS ever since, operating as the Southeastern Regional SCIMS Center. The hospital is also now recognized as a Traumatic Brain Injury Model System (TBIMS).  

Shepherd Center officially added research to its mission in 1985, and the program has been expanding ever since, with Dr. Apple serving at the helm for years.  

“Dr. Apple is such a legend in the SCI research community, and meeting him for the first time as I considered relocating my lab to Shepherd was a tremendous honor,” reflects Edelle Field-Fote, PT, Ph.D., FAPTA, FASIA, director of spinal cord injury research and the Hulse SCI Research Laboratory. “When I arrived, I learned that he had generously given me his own office and moved himself to another space. Because he had a key, I would often arrive back at the office to find a note, a flower, or an apple. These are the kinds of sweet gestures of support that made him so loved by everyone.” 

Dr. Apple also saw the value in inpatient services extending beyond the usual clinical setting. He started Shepherd’s Recreation Therapy Program, now the largest program of its kind in the country, by paying the first recreation therapist out of his own pocket. The recreation therapist, Barb (Leidheiser) Trader, took patients on outings to concerts, Atlanta Braves games, and even Dr. Apple’s property in North Georgia to fish and enjoy the outdoors. 

The program has since grown into a 30-plus-person department, coordinating everything from pottery clinics to adaptive hunting trips for inpatients, outpatients, and community members living with disabilities. Last fall, recreation therapists from across the decades at Shepherd made a visit to the hospital as part of 50th anniversary celebrations. Dr. Apple attended the reunion, where current and alumni recreation therapy staffers shared their favorite stories and thanked him for his vision.  

“That's one of Dr. Apple’s great legacies for Shepherd, is his understanding and vision for rec therapy, and how it was such a critical component of our patient care,” says Chapman, who volunteered on recreation therapy outings in the hospital’s early days. 

Dr. Apple believed in getting patients beyond the walls of their hospital room, and he practiced what he preached. Rarely found holed up in his office, Dr. Apple was a familiar face in the hallways during his tenure as medical director and beyond. Patients often reflect on seeing him across the center, from him meeting them upon their arrival at the ambulance entrance to taking a front-row seat at events like Project Rollway.  

“We talk a lot here … about culture and what that means,” says Cheryl Linden, MA, LPC;MS, OT/L, who has worked at Shepherd for 30 years. “And Dr. Apple portrayed that in such a way because he lived the culture. And it wasn't just about patient care and family care. The culture was about care of all. Care of community. Care of each other.”  

A Leader at Shepherd and Beyond  

Dr. Apple often encouraged his children and grandchildren to get involved in their community, beyond the responsibilities of their day jobs. And he modeled this for them constantly.  

In addition to his work at Shepherd, Dr. Apple brought his medical expertise to the global stage. In 1983, he became president of the American Spinal Injury Association, a professional organization he helped found. At that time the youngest member ever elected to serve as president, Dr. Apple led the organization's then 275 physician members. In 1997, he was awarded the organization’s Lifetime Achievement Award.  

“He really took his knowledge and tried to implant it in others, whether it was through the American Spinal Injury Association, whether it was through research, or one-on-one mentoring,” Morrison says. 

He also served as president of the Atlanta Clinical Society, the Atlanta Orthopedic Society, and the Georgia Orthopedic Society, receiving the F. J. Funk Award for outstanding service to the Society in 2017. For the 1996 Paralympics, he was the chief medical officer. For the ’96 Olympics, he co-chaired the doping committee. And for 30 years, he was a team physician for the NBA’s Atlanta Hawks.   

His history of community involvement has deep roots, reaching even before his time in medical school. Dr. Apple graduated from Highlands High School in Fort Thomas, Kentucky, in 1954 as valedictorian, class president, and an outstanding athlete with varsity letters in basketball, football, and track. While he was an undergraduate at the University of Virginia, studying as a Dupont Honor Scholar, he ran as a protest candidate and became student body president.   

He also found ways to give back to the community outside of the medical field. He donated his time to the Lovett School Board of Directors, the Community Foundation for Greater Atlanta, and the Cathedral of Saint Philip, where he was a devoted member for more than 55 years.  

“He was very beloved at the cathedral by our clergy,” says Chapman, who also attends St. Philip’s. “Whenever the church called on him, he answered. He was generous, he was present, and he was involved.” 

At Shepherd Center, he continued to serve on the board of directors even after his retirement, where he helped with strategic planning for the hospital’s future.  

“He was a very highly valued and respected board member whose insight and opinion were always persuasive,” says Jim Thompson, chairman of the board of directors. “When he chose to comment, it became quiet in [the boardroom] as each member listened intently to what Dr. Apple had to say. He was a giant influence to all of us.”  

At the core of Dr. Apple’s heart was his love for his family. He met his wife Jane in 1961 when she had a date with his roommate, and they were married one year later. They had four children together and 12 grandchildren.  

“Jane was the love of his life, and they had an incredible partnership,” says Jamie Shepherd, who grew up alongside Dr. Apple’s children. “He loved his kids, his grandkids. Everybody is partial to their grandkids — but he was exceptionally proud of his grandkids and all the great things that they are doing, and he really loved being a grandfather.”

Dr. Apple enjoyed spending as much time as possible with his family, always celebrating each birthday with dinner at a favorite restaurant and attending his children’s and grandchildren’s sporting events. He also always made time for yearly trips with his family. 

“[Those trips] are totally my best memories, and definitely our kids' best memories. And you could just tell that that was what gave him the most joy,” says John Stephenson, Jr., one of Dr. Apple’s sons-in-law and a member of the Shepherd Center Foundation Board of Directors. “They would just sit there and look around, smile at everybody, and be happy that everybody was there.” 

A Vision for the Future  

In a presentation Dr. Apple gave before his retirement in 2005, he outlined what he’d like to see in Shepherd’s future: an enlarged exercise facility, enhanced continuing education opportunities for staff, continued research emphasis, and continued focus on patients and their families.   

Over 20 years later, his vision continues to come to life. Renovations at the main hospital have allowed for expanded patient floors and bigger therapy gyms. The NeuroRehabilitation Learning Institute provides educational opportunities for clinicians at Shepherd and around the world. The new Marcus Center for Advanced Rehabilitation is bringing research at Shepherd Center to new heights. The Arthur M. Blank Family Residences allow families to fully participate in their loved ones’ rehab. And during the hospital’s 50th anniversary, celebrations showcased how hospital staff are more dedicated to their patients than ever.   

Even after stepping down from formal leadership, Dr. Apple continued to pour his time, talent, and passion into research, advocacy, and supporting Shepherd Center patients and staff. He frequently was at the hospital for Founders Meetings with fellow co-founder Alana Shepherd and hospital leadership. He also regularly attended events hosted by the Shepherd Center Foundation, including Derby Day, The Legendary Party, as well as groundbreakings and ribbon cuttings that coincided with Pursuing Possible: The Campaign for Shepherd Center, the hospital’s largest campaign and expansion effort to date.  

Dr. Apple accepting the position as Shepherd Center’s first medical director not only defined his medical career but impacted thousands of patients and their families, helping them rebuild their lives. His legacy, and the hospital he helped build, will continue to do so.  

“He was not a prideful person — he was quite humble, so he'd probably shudder at the concept of the legacy,” says Stephenson. “But I think he would want his legacy to be that of a man of strong faith, a dedicated husband and loving father and grandfather, and a gracious friend to anybody that he met. We all know that his legacy stretches far beyond that in scope and reach ... he was brave and pioneering in his field. His innovation, creativity, and entrepreneurial approach to that work has been a big factor in really changing the entire field around treatment of traumatic spinal injuries and complex neurological conditions worldwide."

But psychological testing doesn’t always ensure fair and accurate results, especially for racially diverse patients.

“The primary issue is that most psychological tests were developed and normed on Caucasian populations, so they don’t really apply as well to non-Caucasians,” says Brick Johnstone, Ph.D., the O.Wayne Rollins Director of Brain Injury Research at Shepherd Center.

So, Johnstone, along with other researchers, worked on a study to show another way of evaluating patients, without relying on normed data. The study was published in the January 2026 edition of the journal Brain Injury. Working with the study’s lead author, Gary James, Ph.D., Johnstone and other researchers developed a method of evaluating patients’ severity of brain injury based on the individual’s estimated level of function pre-injury (such as their own reading score), rather than comparing results to normed data (i.e., a potentially inappropriate reference group).

Shepherd Pathways rehabilitation counselor Tim Riggins, LCSW, and brain injury research program manager Nicole Thompson, MPH, also worked on the study. Using data from 239 patients with brain injuries at Shepherd, the study examined the team’s method of neuropsychological evaluation. White patients and Black patients differed on some of the absolute scores (e.g.,IQ, memory, attention), but the study shows that when comparing someone’s post-injury function to their pre-injury function, the results were similar across the board (i.e., White and Black individuals had similar rates of mild, moderate, and severe impairment).

“These results further support the fact that people of different racial backgrounds — they all experience brain injury in a similar manner,” Johnstone says. “So, we’re really trying to indicate that there are different ways to look at data, to interpret it, and we think this is the most appropriate way to do it fairly.”

Riggins says that while neuropsychological testing doesn’t stand alone in the rehabilitation process, it can inform the treatment opportunities a patient receives. As a rehabilitation counselor, Riggins supports patients in managing the personal, social, and psychological effects of their brain injury on their goals of returning to employment, school, or independent living.

“When it comes to return to work potential, [patients] go through neuropsych testing to assess their readiness for return to work and potential accommodations that are necessary,” he says. “So, the outcomes of the testing directly influence their goals for their recovery ...[and] if they're not able to return to work, if the report doesn't support disability, it could make it more difficult for them to receive benefits they need to support themselves.”

Riggins says the research results were validating, acknowledging that while racial bias is often present in traditional testing, there are different ways to evaluate patients in order to help them achieve better outcomes. That philosophy — helping patients achieve the best possible recovery — drives much of brain injury research at Shepherd, Johnstone says.

“Our brain injury research is really focused on improving community outcomes. We want to make sure that the services we provide, the research we do, is helping people successfully reintegrate into their community or to get jobs ... we're just trying to help all of our patients from many diverse backgrounds.”

Written by Erin Kenney

Interested in participating in research at Shepherd Center? Find actively recruiting studies here.

Every year, Tristan, 19, and his dad leave San Antonio, Texas, to go mountain biking in Bentonville, Arkansas. On July 2, 2025, Tristan went down a significant drop where he says he braked too late and was flung over his handlebars. Following his injury, he was life-flighted to the Mercy Hospital ICU in Springfield, Missouri. 

His family knew about Shepherd Center because the hospital was highly recommended by two of Tristan’s friends who had received care there. After 22 days, he was transferred to Shepherd’s ICU for specialized treatment, with his mom Jennifer by his side. His level of injury limited his movement from the neck down, and when he first arrived at Shepherd, he required assistance from a ventilator and trach to breathe. 

“We got to Shepherd, and they immediately had him sitting up out of bed and began motivating him,” Jennifer explains. “He even had a welcoming crew of kids who were patients. They wheeled into his ICU room, introduced themselves and their injuries, and talked about what they had gotten back so far. It was very uplifting.” 

On Aug. 6, Tristan graduated from the ICU to the inpatient unit, where the medical team put him right to work. Among the therapies Tristan recalls as most impactful was electrical stimulation, where stimulation was used over the spinal column to activate his muscles. His team helped him use a tilt table to regulate his fluctuating blood pressure. And they did speech therapy with breathing exercises, which helped him wean off the ventilator a month after arriving at Shepherd. But beyond the focused therapies Tristan received, he appreciated the hospital staff the most, and he showed them that appreciation with his signature sense of sarcasm. 

“I didn’t have a problem psychologically at Shepherd because it was so positive there,” Tristan recalls. “We would just make fun of each other and laugh – there was never an awkward moment. And whenever I’d see a therapist from my team working with another patient, I’d make sure to give them crap by reminding them, ‘Hey, that’s my therapist, give her back!’” 

Tristan not only made friends with his medical team. He quickly made two new best friends, fellow patients Teana Jackson and Libby Presnell. The trio found ways to poke fun at each other at every opportunity. 

“I remember we all went to church one day, and I told [Chaplain Ben Rose] that it was Libby’s birthday, even though it wasn’t. Everyone in the chapel sang happy birthday to her and kept doing it throughout the day. It was the best. We were crying laughing,” Tristan recalls. (Libby got him back later during one of Shepherd’s Tuesday night “family dinners,” where she told attendees it was Tristan’s birthday.) 

In addition to human friends, Tristan loved the furry friends he made at Shepherd Center. 

“I loved every second with the facility dogs. Pippy was my favorite. Every other Friday, dogs that were in training would come up to the workout room and visit everyone,” Tristan says. 

While Tristan worked hard toward his goals, Jennifer was able to stay in family housing at Shepherd Center’s new Arthur M. Blank Family Residences. The donor-funded housing is provided to families and loved ones of patients who are in inpatient rehabilitation who live more than 50 miles from the hospital. 

“That was fabulous,” Jennifer says. “It was only two blocks away, but it was great for me to get breaks, sleep in a real bed, and do things like laundry for Tristan and me. It also gave him a little freedom from me being there all the time!” 

On Sept. 22, Tristan discharged from Shepherd and returned to his hometown in San Antonio. With help from the skills and care he received at Shepherd, he is making progress toward regaining independence. He is working with a pulmonologist to get his trach out and fully breathe on his own. He still experiences some blood pressure issues, but with the tilt table skills he learned with Shepherd’s physical therapists, the family knows how to manage it at home. 

Prior to his injury, Tristan attended college at Texas Tech with his girlfriend, Paula Brame. Paula stopped attending school in-person so she could be there for him, but now, the pair plan to return to school in-person together. They even talk about applying to work at Shepherd Center after completing their degrees. But perhaps the most exciting near-future milestone involves Tristan getting his own service dog. 

“I am not a dog person,” Jennifer says. “But my sister started this whole operation to peer pressure me to get a service dog, and they broke me down. I told Tristan he can apply for his own dog at the one-year mark of his injury.” 

Tristan continues to face his future with hope, humor, and determination. He encourages others to do the same. 

“Wake up and work hard. Every day is a new day and opportunity to keep the faith and stay positive.” 

Written by Damjana Alverson

Tell us about your role.

I work with patients who have had a brain injury — that can be from stroke, traumatic brain injury, anoxic brain injury, brain tumors — any type of injury that has impacted the patient's brain and day-to-day functioning. I work with patients to rehabilitate their swallow function, their cognitive communication, and I’m part of a physical therapy, occupational therapy, and recreation therapy team that works to improve the patients’ day-to-day functioning and eventually help them leave the hospital.

How did you know that you wanted to do this as a career?


There were a lot of interesting elements to the field. Number one, you were working with people, and I knew that I wanted to work in a field that exposed me to a lot of different people. And I liked that there was an application of science to this field. So, I gave it a shot, and I went through the program. And you have to decide whether you want to work with younger ages or with an adult population, and I quickly fell in love with the adult population.

What’s the most fulfilling part of your role?  

I like learning from my patients, and I also like that you'll never know everything in this job. There's always something to learn. My patients really teach me so many different things, but I think the most important thing is the human experience, and also … that not every single patient is exactly the same. There's an opportunity to try new things with patients and then to receive feedback from patients and their family members. I think the other really rewarding thing about this job is that we do get to work not just with the patients, but also with the families. And unfortunately, a brain injury can affect not just the patient, but also the family. So, we really do have such a big role to play [in helping] families return to their home or their community. 

How does the length of stay affect your relationship with patients and their families?

In acute care settings, you don't really get to spend as much time getting to know the patients and their families. But in inpatient rehab, they are here for
night and day for several weeks, and you really do get to learn so much about that person, and they become part of the Shepherd family. You build a relationship with them. And that's absolutely one of the most special things.


What makes for a good day at work?


I can give you a couple of examples, because there are some really perfect days here, and it's hard to pick just one scenario. I can tell you that hearing a patient talk for the first time when you put on a speaking valve or having a patient hit one of their personal goals for the first time, whether that's eating something at Chick-fil-A again for the first time or getting to walk across the hall with the physical therapist for the first time and sharing in that moment with the patient and their families — that cannot be overstated. Those are the moments that stick with you.

Also, in inpatient rehab, we get a lot of variety in our day. For example, today we took several patients to the aquarium, and they got an opportunity to be out of the hospital in a new environment. And it's something different that they can experience. Several of the patients had family members with them. And so both the family members and the patients are learning what it's like to be back in that environment. And that's neat to see — and sometimes challenging — but great for us to work on. Because we're right there with them, so they have that support. They're not by themselves. We can problem-solve together as a team and figure it out.

I absolutely love the therapy team that I work with, and they make absolutely the most difference in my day-to-day. I can't imagine not having my team. They're amazing. We support each other. We have each other's backs. And that makes the biggest difference in the care that we provide.

What are some of the speech therapy goals you might work on during an outing?

Projecting your voice in an environment like that is something we work on. It can be very noisy. So, if they are working on their articulation or their volume, that's a really great opportunity. We work on managing their overstimulation. So, if they're having any trouble with the loud noises, the increased activity, we are working to find ways to help them manage that and to help their families manage that. 

We also work on navigation. So, if there's a map or if we're having to move around obstacles in our path, we're working on that navigation alongside physical therapy. And then we will also use our location to work on reasoning and memory skills. So, at the aquarium today, we might have learned some facts about the animals in the exhibit, and then later, can our patient recall some of the things we learned? 

And we're working on conversation. Normally, we have more than one patient on the outing, so it gives our patients an opportunity to socialize if they're at that point. As the therapy team, we encourage that socialization, even if it looks different. We're just starting to take those baby steps into socializing again and giving them questions to reason. So those are some of the skills that we're working on in those outing activities.

How do you think your role impacts patients and their families?

To me, communication is such a large part of who we are as people. So, I hold communication very, very dear to me, and I have experienced the frustration from patients and family members when patients are unable to express their needs. Sometimes, we have a great communication system by the time they're ready to leave inpatient rehab, sometimes it is still very much a work in progress. But no matter what it looks like, by the time they leave inpatient rehab, my goal is to arm families with education and information that is appropriate at that time, and I also want to give them hope when they're leaving here.

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Education:

University of Georgia, Bachelor of Education, Communication Sciences and Disorders

University of Georgia, Master of Education, Communication Sciences and Disorders

Fun Facts:

Miranda has a dog, Moonpie — an Australian cattle mix — who was born with a neurological disease that caused motor coordination difficulties. The disease is not progressive, and Miranda has helped Moonpie improve her balance and coordination through many hours of training.

Miranda has recently dusted off her roller blades and is relearning how to rollerblade. Equipped with a helmet, knee pads, and elbow pads, of course!

Interview by Ruth Underwood
 

After her stroke, Denell, who lives in Atlanta, had brain surgery at Wellstar Kennestone Regional Medical Center in Marietta, Georgia. Then she transferred to Shepherd Center’s inpatient Stroke Rehabilitation Program. In addition to cognitive challenges, she had difficulty swallowing, weakness in her left arm, and had to re-learn how to stand, walk, and dress herself.   

“My left arm was totally contracted and could not move at all. And I remember being in the bed, just staring at my arm like, ‘Come on, come on,’” she says. “I was nervous because there was a big question mark. I didn't really quite understand what happened or what was going on.”

Shepherd staff helped put her at ease, though.

“The environment here at Shepherd was very warm. The first nurse that I met, I'm still in contact with her to this day. Everyone was very compassionate. It's like their heart goes out to you because they know you've been through this devastating, life-altering thing. It's not that they pity you, but they love you.

They didn't just treat me like a person with a brain injury. They treated me like an intelligent person with something to say,” she explains. “I appreciated that because a lot of times with a brain injury, people treat you like you're dumb, and I'm not dumb, and I don't want to be treated that way.”

And that support was important as she came to terms with her injury.

“Recognizing how much things had changed [was challenging]. I thought that if I could work really hard, I could just push past the barrier and, you know, once your brain is damaged, your brain is damaged — there's no pushing past certain things — you could work around things, but … some things are the way they are, and so that was a bit tricky.”

She recalls her first outing — a trip to a Chick-fil-A just down the street from the hospital.

“I remember being extremely emotional because I was deeply insecure about how the stroke had changed me,” she says. “[My recreation therapist] taught me how to cross the street and how to feel confident in my own body as I was out in the community as my new self. And so it was a small outing, but it meant a lot to me.”

In therapy, Denell worked on moving from sitting to standing position, walking, and learning to compensate for her visual-spatial challenges.

After graduating from inpatient rehabilitation, Denell went to Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd’s outpatient brain injury rehabilitation program, to continue therapy.

She says Shepherd prepared her well for life after discharge, giving her the tools she needed for success.

While at Shepherd Pathways, Denell learned about Side by Side Brain Injury Clubhouse, a day program for people who have sustained a brain injury. Her therapists urged her to give it a try.

“I'm so glad they recommended that to me because I find a lot of personal fulfillment at Side by Side,” she says.

Denell visits Side by Side twice a week, where she spends much of her time working in their business unit, which allows her to flex her marketing skills. She has also helped organize group gatherings — getting people together is another passion. And she returns to Shepherd in a peer support role for Side by Side’s game days at the hospital, playing board games with current patients with brain injuries.

“It's really important for me to share my experience with others because I feel like I was able to keep my voice for a reason,” she explains.

She has moved back into the home she lived in before her stroke. Now, her brother’s family lives with her, which means she gets lots of time with her baby nephew.

“He is just a joy. He's a ball of sunshine,” she says.

Denell is hoping to take a trip to Mexico City for her 40^th birthday, a trip she had planned to take when she turned 35.

“My plan was to be in Mexico City with a group of girlfriends and family to celebrate my 35th birthday. And I ended up celebrating that birthday at Shepherd Center, as I'd had my stroke a few weeks prior to my birthday,” she explains. “I was a bit disappointed not to be in Mexico City, but I was happy to be having a birthday. And so, when I turn 40, that will be my redemption trip in Mexico City. And I'll be eating all the delicious elote that my heart could desire.”

Written by Ruth Underwood 

Eliza Reese, CRRN, first came to Shepherd Center in 2019 as a student nurse extern. After her externship, she worked at Shepherd as a PRN (as-needed) patient care technician while she was in nursing school. Then she completed her senior practicum at Shepherd and, upon graduating, joined the Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit (CRU) as a certified rehabilitation registered nurse.

You started at Shepherd Center while you were still a nursing student. What does it mean to do an externship and senior practicum?

An externship in nursing is a paid internship … and it is eight weeks of work, four weeks, in my case, were with a PCT, and then four weeks were with a registered nurse. And then, at the end of those eight weeks, you can speak to the manager of whatever unit you're working on and ask about staying on as a PCT (patient care technician), and that's what I did. So, I started out on the ABI [Acquired Brain Injury] floor, and I stayed as a PRN PCT for the rest of that school year. 

[The senior practicum] is in the very last semester of nursing school. You are basically side-by-side with a nurse. You don't have a preceptor there. You are being as close to a real nurse as a student can be. So, you're helping the nurse with med administration, you're helping manage care plans, and doing education … everything that you would be doing on a normal everyday basis … and it allowed me to practice a lot of skills up in the ICU.

Can you explain your role at Shepherd?

I am an inpatient RN. I work weekdays, so I am considered a primary RN to my team. What that means is that for everybody that I take care of, I am typically the one responsible for family training and education. I'm also the one responsible for being the nursing representative when we have team conferences, where the therapists, the physician, and the case managers [and nurses] all get together and go over the patient care and any planning. I am responsible for speaking on behalf of my patients [regarding] nursing.

How did you know you wanted to be a nurse?

I'm not sure I quite believed that I could be a nurse until I started going through nursing school, and then I was like, “Oh my gosh … this is exactly what I want to do.” It combined a lot of people skills and just general care of people. And it's something that I suddenly realized I was very passionate about. I'd always loved science. I majored in biology in college … but I'm also a dance teacher, so I follow students year-round and get to watch their progress. It combined the beauty of science and understanding why things happen the way they do, with the progression of following people and watching them gain new skills, very similar to teaching.

What does a typical day look like for you?

I typically am at work by about 6:15 a.m. We start our shift and hand off at 6:30 a.m. Because I work day shift, we're getting updates from the night shift nurse. How did the patient sleep? Are there any new concerns? … And after report, I'm rounding on my patients, making sure they're okay, making a plan. What does their therapy look like? What do their medications look like? Do they have any procedures for the day? And I'm looking at all of that before I start, and then we start fairly quickly into breakfast and med passes. Our patients go to therapy, so we get nice gaps to chart. We help our patients with lunch and lunchtime meds, help them with afternoon meds and dinner, and all the while, there could be a call from a therapist: “This patient's not feeling well, can you come look at this?” Taking patients to a procedure, picking them up from a procedure … doing education, somebody has a question. It just depends on the day. 

What do you like most about your job?

I really enjoy following my patients through the progression of their skills, no matter what they are. I take pride in being able to encourage my patients and reminding them of things they hadn't been able to do and what they can do now, and [encouraging] a lot of reflection. I think it helps ground our patients. And it's really fun to watch [patients] being able to use a cup or being able to feed themselves [for the first time post-injury]. It’s really satisfying to help my patients go through these tiny little gains that don't feel good to them, but they really are huge in the grand scheme of things.

What were your first impressions when you started work at Shepherd Center?

Before I came to Shepherd Center, I had some clinical experience. We have clinicals every semester as part of the nursing school program. So, I had already been to three different hospitals. And so I knew how that patient interaction went, and I did not expect the … beautiful connection that every employee had to the patients. It was so natural. It was very family-like. It wasn't people in there just doing their job. It was somebody noticing something. How was your day? How is your daughter doing? I noticed that from day one, and it was very different than any other experience I had had.

How does your role impact patients and families?

I would say that my role personally helps patients experience a sense of normalcy. It helps them focus on doing their therapy and getting stronger. I'm there, kind of in the background, to make sure that they are [medically] stable, so they don't have to think about anything else … And I like that, that we just sit in the back and make sure that things are nice and stable for our patients. And then when things are not, being able to step in and correct it so the patient can move on.

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Education:

Agnes Scott College, Bachelor of Science, Biology

Mercer University, Bachelor of Science, Nursing

Fun Facts:

Eliza has been teaching dance, including ballet, tap, swing, and modern dance, for the past 12 years.

She also loves knitting and crocheting, an interest she got from watching her grandmother knit, and has made everything from stuffed animals to articles of clothing.

Eliza met her fiancé at work — he is also an RN — and they plan to marry later this year.

Interview by Ruth Underwood

It’s guidance many drivers have heard time and time again, yet distracted driving continues to be a public health crisis. In 2024, 3,208 people were killed and 315,167 people were injured in motor vehicle crashes involving distracted drivers, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.

While cellphones can be a major distraction for drivers, other kinds of distractions can also claim drivers’ attention on the road, like a spilled drink or a missed exit. Luckily, there are steps you can take to stay focused while driving.

For Distracted Driving Awareness Month, experts from Shepherd Center share their advice to ensure a distraction-free drive, keeping you, your passengers, and other people on the road safe.

JJ Brown

Driver/Tech, Recreation Therapy Program

The Recreation Therapy team is committed to promoting safe, attentive driving — especially when driving patients during community outings. Taking a few simple steps to stay focused behind the wheel can make a big difference in keeping everyone safe. Here are some practical tips to help reduce distractions while driving:

• Lead by example: Whether transporting others or driving in your personal life, modeling attentive, distraction-free driving encourages others to do the same.
• Practice patience, slow down, and manage frustration: Traffic can be unpredictable, and it’s easy to feel frustrated. Take a breath, give yourself extra time, and avoid reacting to other drivers. Staying calm helps you stay focused and make safer decisions.
• Prepare before you start driving: Set your GPS, adjust mirrors, choose your music, secure all passengers and any personal items before putting the vehicle in motion. A few extra seconds upfront can prevent distractions later.
• Stay aware of your surroundings: Regularly scan the road, check mirrors, and anticipate what other drivers might do. Staying mentally engaged helps prevent your mind from wandering.
• Limit multitasking: Avoid eating, adjusting controls, or reaching for items while driving. Even small actions can take your attention off the road longer than you realize.
• Create a calm driving environment: Keep noise levels manageable and minimize anything that could pull your attention away, like loud music or clutter in the vehicle.

Photo caption: Brown, right, with close friend Chris Heitzman. Both are former Shepherd patients — Brown sustained a spinal cord injury in 2018. Read more about Brown's story here. 
 

Matt Abisamra, OTR/L, CDRS

Program Supervisor, Driving Evaluation and Rehabilitation Program

If you’re using hand controls to operate your vehicle, you can’t free up your hands to adjust the radio, temperature, or other settings. But, you can prepare before starting your drive to make sure you have a comfortable and safe environment.

• Connect your phone to your car via Bluetooth for hands-free communications, navigation, and adjust to your music or podcasts.
• Use your car’s auto temperature setting to keep a consistent and comfortable temperature.
• Ideally, find a vehicle with automatic lights and windshield wipers, so if weather conditions change while you’re on the road, you’re prepared.

Additionally, for some of our clients with cognitive challenges, GPS apps offer support even on routine drives. Apps that tell drivers which lane to be in are especially helpful and can keep drivers focused on the road.

Photo caption: Abisamra, right, works with a client in the Driving Evaluation and Rehabilitation Program
 

Emma Harrington, MSPS

Director of Injury Prevention

• Set an example for your kids: Model the behavior you want to see from your future teen driver and lay the groundwork for a culture of safety in your home before the car seats turn around.
• Georgia is a hand-free state: Before you shift into gear set your music, podcasts, and GPS routes. If you need to adjust anything, pull over safely.
• Use technology that helps you block… technology: Enable your phone’s built‑in Driving Focus/Auto‑Silence modes or use blocking apps that disable notifications while driving.
• Set expectations for a culture of safety with your loved ones: Let family, friends, and coworkers know you do not respond while driving.
• Treat all alerts as distractions: Infotainment screens, smart watches, smart glasses. They all count.
• Let passengers help — or hold you accountable: Passengers can manage music, messages, or navigation. When you’re the passenger, reinforce a culture of safety and offer to help the driver.

Photo caption: Harrington is the Director of Injury Prevention.

On this morning, Dave is working with his occupational therapist, Kelsey Taylor, MHS, OTR/L, to learn how to dress himself. Dave’s girlfriend, Amelia Hepner, and his mom, Dana Vanderplank, attend the session with him. They have already learned a lot and look like pros, helping him transfer from his wheelchair to the mat using a lift. Dave jokingly refers to them as his pit crew.

Kelsey has an oversized pair of red shorts for Dave to put on over his own shorts as practice for getting himself dressed. She explains that another patient had the shorts customized as a joke. She holds them up to reveal the words “Hot Pants” emblazoned on the seat.

Kelsey positions a backrest on the mat behind Dave for support in case he needs to take a break. He starts with some stretches for his shoulders and legs.

Amelia pulls Dave’s hair back for him and gives him some fingerless gloves that keep his hands from sliding on the mat. Then Kelsey talks him through how to position himself using his shoulder strength. She demonstrates the process of putting on the shorts, with step-by-step instructions on how to position his arms and legs.

“The goals are to practice coming forward, getting your legs up in order to drag on your pants,” Kelsey explains. “I find that people have the most success, kind of getting a forearm underneath. So, we'll have one arm back behind as a prop. Get your forearm underneath, and then you can just lean back until your foot lands, is the goal.”

“Okay, I love it,” Dave says.

As Dave works through the process of pulling on the shorts, Kelsey offers him different adaptive tools, like a chain of nylon loops he can place around his foot, to try and see what works best.

“This is one of the first times we've really worked on this [putting on shorts], so I'm going to verbally coach him through it and try to physically assist the least amount that I have to, to give him the technique,” Kelsey explains. “But then, next time I'll just help you to the mat and give you some pants.”

Dave’s mom, Dana, says that Dave has always been a problem-solver, evaluating obstacles from many different angles with a curiosity about how things work — a trait that is proving useful as he figures out new ways to complete everyday activities.

She remarks on how the therapists work with Dave and says it’s like parenting in some ways, since parents often have to let their child struggle a bit to learn, but not so much that they get overwhelmed and don’t want to try again.

“I can see that's what the therapists are all doing,” she observes. “Work it out, and then at the right moments, they’ll come and give that little push or tweak, or verbal instruction.”

As Dave works on putting on the shorts, Kelsey talks to him about how he might be able to use spasms to his advantage. For instance, with some experimentation, he may learn how to trigger a spasm to lift his foot into the shorts.

When Dave has wriggled into the shorts, everyone cheers. He’s pleased, but also ready to tackle the next task — putting on a shirt. He has selected a Hawaiian shirt so he can practice buttoning it. When Kelsey starts to demonstrate how to use a tool to button one of the top buttons, Dave protests with a laugh.

“Wait, we can't do that button with a Hawaiian shirt. It’s got to be lower,” he says.

Before the 90-minute session ends, Dave is wearing his Hawaiian shirt and the “hot pants.” He reflects on how all the elements of therapy are coming together to help him meet functional goals.

“It's fun seeing all the goals blend together. So, putting on the shorts … will become more rolling. I've been working on rolling in PT and OT — just how to move and how to forward balance, how to forward sit. I'm seeing a lot of those come together, and then once I can roll to sit myself up, then I could get a slideboard … to slide myself to and from a chair and bed without having to use the lift. So, it's fun seeing all the little goals … all kind of combined together to get dressed, sit up, get to a chair. … It's a lot of things that all build.”

“I like to describe it as a pyramid,” Kelsey says. “We set the foundation, and we're just making these building blocks so that big goal is at the top. And that doesn't stop with inpatient, we just kind of keep adding to the pyramid from there.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

How long have you been working at Shepherd Center, and what is your role?

I’ve been here for a year and six months. I’m the laboratory manager. That means that I make sure the lab is compliant with all the regulations that it needs to be through The Joint Commission and CMS [Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services].

What was your first day of work like?

It was very welcoming. This place has a very positive vibe, and I'm a very positive person, so I took to it like a duck to water. Everyone was so welcoming; everybody was happy to be here and happy to meet me. You don't see that a lot in hospitals. It's [usually] more corporate, and you don't get that feel here. This is not a corporation or a large hospital system where you can get lost in the weeds.

What happens in Shepherd’s lab?

Any test that the doctors order that we can provide in-house, we do. And we're also the central point for any labs we don't perform in-house, which we send out to other labs.

What does a typical day at work look like for you?

On typical days, I come in, and I have a game plan — and sometimes that game plan is executed! At the beginning of the month, I review all the records, including all the QC [quality control] records and maintenance records. Then, if I can, I'll review a procedure to make sure the procedure is following [the correct steps]. Then, I’ll go over the regulations to make sure that we don't have any major violations or things we need to do. We are one of the most highly regulated departments in the hospital. We’re inspected every two years. Quality is a big piece of [my role] — and managing my staff.

What does it mean to “review a procedure?”

Every blood test, every swab, everything we do in the lab has a procedure. It's not a policy, it's a procedure. So, when we do anything in the lab, there has to be a step-by-step way to do it. Here's how you collect the specimen, here’s how you process the specimen, and here’s how you perform that test on that specimen. It just can't be done how you think it should be — we all must do it the same way, and all the controls have to work. If the controls work, then your testing works, and that's how you guarantee you have a correct result to treat the patient.

What part of your job do you find most fulfilling?

Solving problems or finding a new way to do something. That’s sort of my jam.

How does your role impact patients and families?

Seventy percent of all decisions for the patient are based on lab results. If our lab results aren't accurate, then the treatment for our patients isn't going to be good. They’re not going to have their best day to go to rehab. My role is to make sure that everything that comes out of this lab is precise and correct so [patients] can have their best day for rehabilitation.

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Education

Wright State University, Bachelor of Science, Medical Technology

Saint Joseph’s University, Master of Health Administration

Fun Facts

Annette’s son is a big part of her life. He will turn 31 this year.

She enjoys playing golf, cross-stitching, and watching football, especially the Ohio State Buckeyes and the Cincinnati Bengals.

Originally from Ohio, Annette and her partner of 12 years, Kevin, enjoy traveling, including a trip to Oahu and Maui to visit her son. He served in the military and was stationed in Hawaii after being deployed to Afghanistan.

Interview by Ruth Underwood

He equates learning new things in therapy with trying new drills at football practice.

“Sometimes I have to do [exercises] that I'm not comfortable with,” he explains, “And I end up getting used to it, and I'll get stronger at it.”

Bryson sustained a C4 spinal cord injury when he experienced a seizure and fell from his bed in his dorm room last year. He participated in therapy at Shepherd Center and graduated from the inpatient Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Program and Day Program. He went home for six months and has returned to Shepherd for a second round of the Day Program. He’s only been back a week, but in addition to occupational and physical therapies, he says he’s started learning to play the piano in music therapy, attended yoga, gone to the ProMotion Fitness Center, and practiced what he’s learning in therapy in the apartment he shares with his mom in the Irene and George Woodruff Family Residence Center.

He’s working with Jasmin on several occupational therapy goals, including improving his posture, lengthening and stretching his biceps, and refining his hand movement, which will allow him to do more things independently.

First, Jasmin helps Bryson transfer to the mat, and he works on prop sitting — sitting up straight with his arms behind him for support. Bryson’s biceps are strong, but also very tight, so Jasmin is choosing exercises to help him stretch and lengthen his biceps and strengthen his triceps. 

“The first time we got into prop sit and worked on these exercises, it took me at least 20 minutes to get him into that position because he was just so tight and in so much pain,” Jasmin says. “It took us a while to progress to this.”

But Bryson has made a lot of progress in the past week and can get into the prop sit position more easily and hold it for an extended period. He can definitely feel the stretch, but says he’s getting used to it now, so it’s more comfortable.

Jasmin is also helping Bryson refine his movements. She explains that as a football player, Bryson likes to put a lot of power into his movement, and he spent a lot of time at home after the Day Program strengthening his biceps. But having strong biceps without relatively strong triceps is, in part, what led to tight muscles in his biceps and elbows, so they’re working on lengthening his biceps and coordinating his scapular muscles (muscles that attach to the shoulder blade. 

“In addition to getting more range in his elbows and biceps, he's working a lot on posture correction,” Jasmin explains. “He holds a lot of tension in his neck and upper back. So a lot of it is coordinating the muscles. When you have neurologic weakness, it's really hard to pinpoint the muscles that help with upright posture and neck alignment. So that's a lot of what we’ve been focusing on.”

“I used to depend on my headrest a lot,” Bryson says. “I don’t even use that anymore. I just sit up.”

After doing some exercises to improve his posture and strengthen his neck muscles, Bryson and Jasmin move on to hand exercises.

Bryson is learning to put a universal cuff (U-cuff) on his hand. It has a small pocket that can hold things like a marker, toothbrush, or eating utensil. Bryson practices drawing and writing his name with a marker. He wants to get back to writing and typing and return to college for his junior year.

Next, he chooses to work on picking up items using his fingers.

“Another goal of ours is to refine his hand movement, his pinch pattern, so that he's able to grasp and release a little bit more easily,” Jasmin says.

Bryson is working on holding his wrist up while opening his hand wider and wider to pick up increasingly large items. He has learned how to use spasms to help him open his fingers.

“The first time it happened, I had a regular spasm, and I started moving my fingers with it. Then I repeated it,” he recalls. “Then [my fingers] got tired and actually stopped moving for two or three days. And then I ended up triggering another spasm, and I started using it, making it stronger.”

Jasmin explains that the small muscles in our hands fatigue quickly, so they only do a little fine-motor work during each session.

As he works, Bryson sings along to a country song — he knows every word.

Turns out, the playlist is no coincidence.

“I just know that this is always what he wants to hear,” says Jasmin.

“24/7,” Bryson replies with a grin.

Written by Ruth Underwood

“You can replace drywall. You can have carpenters come in and fix it. We were working on fixing a brain there for a while. That's different,” she explains.

The brain Kimberly is referring to belongs to her son, Hawthorne. In August, the 26-year-old, who lives in Franklin, Tennessee, fell and hit his head during a brief illness that had caused his sodium levels to drop. A neighbor found him soon after his fall and called 911.

After transferring from a small local hospital, Hawthorne spent 19 days in Vanderbilt University Medical Center’s ICU, and for 10 of those, he used a ventilator to help him breathe. He had three skull fractures along with brain bleeds.

Kimberly said three things pointed them toward Shepherd Center for Hawthorne’s rehabilitation. A friend who worked at Shepherd texted them to check in and see what she could do. A co-worker whose husband had sustained a traumatic brain injury years before called Kimberly to recommend Shepherd. And the trauma surgeon who worked with Hawthorne also recommended the hospital.

She remembers the day they arrived at Shepherd for the inpatient Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program.

“Our first nurse was Bob Suter … He was awesome … He was so helpful and informative. We had literally just followed an ambulance from Nashville to Atlanta. We had not been in our home in five weeks. We have been living in Franklin, Tennessee. My sister would ship us boxes because we packed in a minute and a half, thinking we'd be back in a few days based on the information we had, and we got up there, and we didn't go back home. We just didn't. So, Bob was super helpful. He gave us the grand tour. He was able to tell us what was what, and we were able to get moved into the Blank Residences. That was a godsend for us.”

Hawthorne’s brain injury led to increased anxiety for him, so even with housing down the street, Kimberly and Radney took turns sleeping on an air mattress in his room.

“My husband and I would just swap out. One would go sleep in the Blank Residence, and one would sleep on the floor in his room. He was still on a feeding tube at that point… still on the trach…

“Therapy started almost immediately,” Kimberly says. And that's what the trauma surgeon mentioned as one of the reasons that Shepherd was so important to him … he could start therapy. He could go ahead and start a lot of the things that would help him get better, even while still having the trach.”

Hawthorne worked on balance, memory, verbal processing, reaction time, and fine motor skills. He could walk without assistance but wanted to get back to running, something he did often before his injury.

Initially, Hawthorne’s medical team thought he’d need four to six weeks of inpatient rehabilitation. But Hawthorne improved so quickly that he graduated from the inpatient program and moved on to Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd’s outpatient brain injury rehabilitation program, after just 11 days.

At Pathways, he continued with physical, occupational, and speech therapies and began vocational rehabilitation to prepare for a return to work. After his discharge from Pathways, he attended speech therapy and completed return-to-drive testing closer to his parents’ home.

Just seven months after his injury, Hawthorne is living independently again, has returned to work full-time, is back to running, and has returned to driving. Kimberly has had some time to reflect on the journey she has been on as a parent.

“It's unlike anything I've ever experienced — seeing your child injured in that way,” she says. “I mean, we've had broken bones. We've had the normal kids’ stuff. We've had surgeries. … This was a new level, I think, having absolutely zero control as a parent of how this is working for your child and how they are healing and what is happening to them. Letting go of that for me personally is difficult. I'm a type triple-A … but I had to learn that I was in the best hands in the country for what was happening to us.”

Caring for Yourself as a Caregiver

Kimberly says their family really pulled together and supported each other, and that friends were also a huge support.

She remembers Hawthorne’s nurse at Vanderbilt telling her that he needed her to sleep and to remember to eat. “He said, ‘I’ve got him. I promise I’ve got him…But I need you to not pass out on my floor…I don’t need to be taking care of you, too,” Kimberly recalls.

“So, after that, that was in the forefront of my brain. So, we made some decisions based on that to help us make it the long haul, you know, this is a marathon, not a sprint,” she says.

Once Hawthorne transferred to Pathways, Kimberly started exercising again, sometimes with him once he was cleared to walk outside.

“I'm a four-day-a-week exercise person, and that got shut down immediately. And I could feel that. I could feel my stress levels, you know? So, I made sure that that got back into my life as quickly as possible as a way for me to just kind of cope,” she says.

“I also journaled a lot. I decided that this was too much information to build up every day, with what we would learn in rounds every morning from the five specialists who were his team. So, I would do a brain dump into a journal of all this information. I haven't gone back to read it, but I did that all the way through Shepherd Center, every day, just to kind of clear my head a little bit.”

She has shared what she learned about taking care of herself with other parents she knows whose child is facing illness or injury.

“I have been giving this advice to parents,” she says. “‘I don't know what care looks like for every person but sleeping and eating are a given. … Please find out what it looks like to care for yourself, even though it feels like it's nearly impossible because you are not your focus. Your child is your focus. But as Shaba (Hawthorne’s first nurse) said, if I don't take care of myself, I'm not going to be able to take care of him.

“‘So, looking through that lens, remember to take care of yourself somehow, whatever that looks like. If it's just going for a walk for 30 minutes, or if it's just going to a restaurant and getting something to eat in a different setting than a hospital. Let the medical team do their job and … that gives you, hopefully, permission to, in small ways, take care of yourself.’”

Written by Ruth Underwood

On the Menu

Rosemary-baked chicken breast or shrimp and cheese grits, new potatoes, cauliflower, mustard greens, and English peas. Chicken and broccoli stir fry or a Philly cheesesteak. Burgers, tenders, pizza, salads, sandwiches, fruit, lemon-lime cake…

Food service assistant Tonika McCoy makes her rounds of patient rooms on the fourth and fifth floors at Shepherd Center. She greets each patient by name and reads their menu options from a tablet. The options are based on the dietary guidelines established by Shepherd doctors and dietitians for each patient.

With patients at various stages of their rehabilitation, dietary needs run the gamut. For people eating solid foods, there are specials for each day, but if those don’t strike a patient’s fancy, there are à la carte options like sandwiches, burgers, chicken tenders, salads, or soup.

McCoy starts collecting orders around 7:45 a.m. each morning so she can catch patients in their rooms before they head to therapy. Anyone she misses in the morning, she revisits at lunchtime to get their meal orders for the following two days. She also makes sure she can describe all the dishes in case a patient is unfamiliar with some of the options.

McCoy stops in Bobbie Ingram’s room. Bobbie is participating in the Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation Program, and her husband, Stuart, is staying at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences down the street.

Stuart jokingly tells McCoy he’d like a “big ole filet mignon.”

Both Bobbie and Stuart say the food at Shepherd is quite good. When he heads back to family housing for the night, Stuart says he often grabs meals in the cafeteria rather than stopping at a restaurant.  

Bobbie shows off a piece of chocolate layer cake from the cafeteria and marvels at its size.

They all agree the desserts are good. But when McCoy reads red velvet cake off the menu, Stuart says “yes,” and Bobbie responds with a laugh and an emphatic “no!”

It turns out it’s not the hospital’s red velvet that Bobbie objects to, but red velvet in general. Stuart explains that his mom used to make red velvet cake often and “burned [Bobbie] out on it 30 years ago.”

The Ingrams mention that they might eat some meals in the cafeteria, so McCoy explains how meal tickets work. Patients can opt to eat in the cafeteria rather than have a tray delivered to their room. To help them remember the schedule, McCoy circles the meals they plan to use meal tickets for on a paper calendar.

In another room, a patient says he plans to go to the cafeteria for dinner. “I like to go down there. Makes me feel normal,” he explains.

One patient just had some teeth pulled, so he’s thinking of the soft foods he can eat. McCoy suggests eggs or grits, but when he seems uncertain, she says she’ll check with the dietitians for some additional options.

Still another person is looking for protein-rich options — McCoy makes some suggestions, and he decides on eggs and breakfast sausage. He confesses he doesn’t usually eat breakfast, but he’s going to try his best. She enters his order into her tablet.

For many patients, McCoy already knows what they order most often, and all of them seem happy to see her. And the feeling is mutual — she says her favorite part of her role is interacting with patients.

“You see a lot of different things, and … it makes the job fun because I'm able to interact with them, and they tell me stories, and I'm laughing and talking. It's very fun.”

And she’s happy to deliver a little cheer, even before the meals arrive.

“They go through a lot, so food pretty much brightens up their day.”

Made to Order — and Delivered

Once the orders are in and the food is prepared, it’s time to start a tray line to assemble the order for delivery.

Food service aide Maddy Gonzalez likes to keep her workspace in the Shepherd Center kitchen just so. When her shift begins, she meticulously arranges everything she’ll need in the station in front of her and on the racks behind her — containers of fruit, cups of iced tea and lemonade, packets of salt and pepper, condiments, napkins, thickeners for liquids.

For most of her shifts, her role is “caller.” Beginning with a stack of printed orders, she’s the first stop in preparing all the trays for patient meals — from choosing the right color tray — yellow for swallowing precautions, orange for testing (for patients who are testing foods with different textures under the supervision of a speech-language pathologist), and black for everyone else — to heating the plate warmers to ensure patients get a hot meal.

She looks at the first order, chooses the appropriate color tray, and adds cold items the patient requested — like a fruit cup and a glass of lemonade, pudding, cookies, along with napkins, silverware, condiments, salt, and pepper. Then she adds a hot plate warmer, double-checks the tray to make sure she hasn’t missed anything, and puts it on the conveyor belt for other team members to add hot entrees and sides, check it again, and transfer the tray to a rack. There, her supervisor checks the trays a third time to ensure each order is correct.

Once Gonzalez completes the last ticket, she transfers all the trays for a floor to an insulated rack, working in reverse order by rooms, so her last delivery goes in first. She rolls the tall rack out of the kitchen, looking around the side to navigate as she goes, and heads to one of the floors with patient rooms to deliver the meals.

She chats with patients who are in their rooms, but many are not back from therapy yet, so she leaves the trays on their tables. One room is empty, and it looks like the patient was discharged, so she makes a note to double-check in case they’ve just moved to another room.

Once she’s delivered the last tray, she heads back down to the kitchen to prepare some more. She’ll return to the floor after lunch to collect the trays and enjoy another opportunity to interact with patients.

She loves “cutting up with them,” she says, and “just being a help. That makes me feel good. Just to make other people smile.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

Landon Simpson

OT Goals – Cervical control, increased arm movement, sitting upright

PT Goals – Walking

19-year-old Landon Simpson transferred from Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tennessee, to Shepherd Center’s Disorders of Consciousness Program in October after sustaining a brain injury in a car crash in August. His therapy team has been working with him ever since his arrival at Shepherd. He emerged in January, and today, he has back-to-back occupational and physical therapy sessions.

His occupational therapist, Corrie Samples, MS, OTR/L, and PT/OT aide Fred Tuppings, are helping Landon position himself over a peanut-shaped ball for an exercise on the therapy mat.

Corrie explains that Landon has bilateral tone in his arms and a preference for a flexed position with his arms, neck, and trunk. In therapy, the focus is on strengthening the antagonist (opposing muscles) to assist him with improved head position, sitting balance, and upper extremity strength and movement.

Landon’s mom, Ashlie, attends most of his therapy sessions, encouraging him and jumping in to help when she can. She’s been at Shepherd with Landon ever since he arrived, sleeping in his room at night, and sometimes heading to the family’s apartment in the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences between therapy sessions to do laundry or take a break. Other family members — Landon’s dad and his grandmother (Ashlie’s mom) stay in the apartment for weeks at a time to support Landon and Ashlie.

“It's very hard,” she says. “But he has improved a lot, so just praying every day that he continues to improve.”

During his OT session, Corrie challenges and cajoles Landon, sometimes using reverse psychology to motivate him.

“Take a break if you need a break, but put your arms down,” she tells him. Then, when Landon leaves his arms folded against his chest, she jokes, “Okay, don't put your arms down. Whatever you do, keep them up on your chest. Right under your chin.”

Landon works on sitting up at the edge of the mat. Corrie guides him to lift his head, put his hands on the mat, and engage his core to support himself. Sometimes Landon says “no” to Corrie’s instructions, and you can see his frustration. Other times, he shares an impish grin.

“I want to see that handsome smile,” Ashlie tells him. “Lift your head up. This is going to make you stronger.”

Ashlie says Landon loves being outside — playing golf, duck hunting, and fishing. He’s also always had a strong work ethic, and before his injury, he was working with an electrician and training to become one himself. She and Landon FaceTime with his girlfriend back home in Clinton, Kentucky, every day, and her name comes up as motivation during therapy.

Sometimes, to better understand what Landon is trying to communicate, Ashlie brings a letter board so he can point to the first letter of the word. The day before, he was saying his dad’s name a lot. Today, he’s saying his girlfriend’s name.

At the end of a session filled with sitting, standing, and stretches, Corrie gives Landon a few minutes to rest on the mat before his physical therapy session begins.

He has casts over his feet and lower legs since he recently had surgery to release his contracted Achilles tendons. The surgery will allow him to keep his feet flat when he walks, rather than walking on tiptoes.

After OT, Landon heads across the gym for physical therapy with Ryan Gill, PT, DPT, NCS. Today, he’s going to be walking using the ZeroG Gait and Balance System, which provides body-weight support so he can safely practice walking. Beth DeBee, PT, DPT, NCS, and Matthew Yin, a PT/OT aide, join to help with the session.

Once Landon is harnessed into the ZeroG, the team guides him through the motions of walking several yards along a black-and-yellow line that runs across part of the gym. Landon’s grandmother, Rosemary, joins the group and shares encouraging words.

They support Landon as he moves down the line, let him stop for a brief rest, then head back in the opposite direction. Sometimes Ashlie joins in, holding Landon’s hands steady and encouraging him.

Ashlie and Ryan talk about the boots they have on order for Landon’s feet after the casts are removed, as well as a new wheelchair.

In a week or two, Landon will head to Shepherd Pathways to continue therapy on an outpatient basis there. Ashlie is grateful for his progress up to this point and the therapists who have worked with him.

“We've always had Corrie, Ryan, and Aubrey (Landon’s speech-language pathologist), and Landon’s nurse, Carrie, from day one, and they've been great,” Ashlie says. “We've gotten this far because of them.”

Laura Snyder

PT Goals – transfers, standing, walking

“Stunning.” That’s physical therapist Payton Pulver’s recent word of choice to describe impressive progress by her patient, Laura Snyder.

On the day of this therapy session, Laura has been at Shepherd Center for almost three weeks.

“My husband Bill is going to join us,” she says before the therapy session begins. “He is definitely my partner. It would be a mess if I didn’t have him here.”

In December, Laura fell and hit her head, which led to a brain bleed, causing weakness on her left side. After brain surgery and five weeks at East Carolina University Health in Greenville, North Carolina, she transferred to Shepherd. She has been using a manual wheelchair, but in physical therapy, she’s working on standing and walking.

Since surgeons had to remove part of her skull to address the brain bleed, Laura wears a protective helmet. She also wears prism glasses to help adjust her perception of where she is in space and correct her posture. The glasses are an important intervention for people with visual impairment due to a brain injury and can help with balance and peripheral awareness. Payton also puts a brace on Laura’s ankle.

“It works with her knee, too, to help her lift up her toes, and also keep her knee bent, because she tends to hyperextend her knee,” Payton explains. “So, I’m trying to give a little more support at the ankle and the knee.”

Laura’s shoe doesn’t fit over the brace, so she wears a larger one, which she calls “the big goober.”  

First, Laura works on “sit and stands” with Payton. Then, while Laura is standing, Payton asks her to shift her weight to the right and raise and lower her left foot. From there, they try a set of portable stairs, and Laura makes it to the top.

“I can get into my house!” she exclaims with a grin.

Bill looks on. He says that Laura has that smile “every minute of every day. She lights up a room.”

In therapy, Laura is working on transfers, walking, and standing.

“You know, just all those very basic things, but I'm getting there. It just takes time. You work on little things, you go to this therapy, and you work on this particular thing, and you go to this [therapy], and then you begin to see how they all come together.”

Laura has conquered the stairs, but she and Payton aren’t done for the day. They move to the hallway where Laura will practice walking while holding onto a wall rail, which Laura says she doesn’t particularly like.

Laura holds onto the railing, Payton stands in front of her for support, and Bill follows behind with the wheelchair ready if needed.

She takes one step, then another, moving the “big goober” of a shoe forward. Payton reminds her to focus and not to lock her knee.

“Laura, you’re walking!” Payton says.

Laura’s husband Bill chimes in, “Yeah, you are!” 

Laura lets out a big “YeeHee!” All with the broad smile she’s worn for most of her physical therapy session.

Stunning.

Aaron Hurd

SLP Goals – word retrieval, sentence structure, complex conversations

Thirty-two-year-old Aaron Hurd and his speech-language pathologist, Amanda Goldman, CCC-SLP, first focus on a worksheet resembling a Mad Lib — several paragraphs in which he’ll fill in the blanks to create logical sentences. As he worked on a similar exercise in a previous session, they decide Aaron will complete the worksheet for homework, and they move on to another exercise.

Last December, Aaron had a hemorrhagic stroke, which affected his speech and caused paralysis on his right side. After a month at Wellstar Kennestone Regional Medical Center in Marietta, Georgia, he transferred to Shepherd’s inpatient Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program. There, he worked with therapists on improving his vision, walking, and speech.

He graduated from the program at the beginning of March and is in his second week at Shepherd Pathways to continue therapy on an outpatient basis. Therapy will continue to target his vision, mobility, and speech to support Aaron’s long-term goals of returning to work and driving.

Aaron wears prism glasses over his own glasses to improve his depth perception, balance, and posture. After putting away his homework, he scrolls on his phone for a moment until he finds a job posting with a description that resembles his own job as a senior manager for payments.

“We’re trying to get Aaron to be able to write or verbalize a job description because he’s having trouble with more complex topics,” Amanda explains. “Then, he can tell people what he does for work, because right now he uses a lot of empty words… so lots of ‘things,’ right? she says to Aaron, “And ‘ums,’ when he’s trying to figure the word he wants to say and out how all the words go together.”

Aaron reads the description aloud. He struggles with some of the more complicated words, and Amanda offers starting sounds and gives him tips on pronunciation or where to place his tongue to get the sound he’s looking for.

When, at times, the words don’t come out quite right, Aaron knows it. “Oh my gosh,” he says with some frustration. Upon listening to the high-level job description, filled with professional jargon about payment cycles, Amanda jokes with him, “I’m not going to lie, this language even goes over my head!”

Aaron tells her, “So, I know what it is. That's what I'm saying. I know what to do, I can do it. But can't talk right now.”

“I know,” Amanda assures him.

Aaron has anomic aphasia, which means he primarily has difficulty with word retrieval. Unlike other types of aphasia, in which people have difficulty understanding what people are saying, Aaron’s comprehension is very good.

“He’s working solely on expression,” Amanda explains.

Sometimes, that just means giving Aaron time to think to retrieve a word.

“And then once he gets it, trying to keep that word and putting a sentence together can be hard,” Amanda says. “So, it's the word retrieval, the sentence structure for it, and adding more content into his conversation.”

They move on to another exercise. Amanda asks Aaron to use complete sentences to describe who is in the picture, what is happening, where it takes place, when it is occurring, and why it may be happening. Once he says a sentence aloud, she asks him to write it down as well. As he speaks and writes, he sometimes stops to correct himself when a word doesn’t come out sounding the way he wants it to, or he isn’t sure of the right word.

“Your spelling is getting better,” Amanda tells him.

Aaron admits that he’s never been great at spelling, and Amanda tells him that it was always her worst subject in school.

“Hey, you've written two sentences, and there's only one letter that's been off,” she points out.

“I do payments, numbers,” Aaron says. “I don't talk.”

 “All right. So, I should start giving you math?” Amanda jokes.

Aaron describes a picture of a group grilling. He and Amanda talk about what they like to grill and how they like their burgers. She asks him how he feels about the difficulty level of the exercise.

“I know what I want to say, I can't write the words. Those words, not coming out.”

“Your writing, though, was great,” she says. “Your spelling, there was one spelling error I had to fix, and then a little bit of the grammar, but then you fixed it yourself. But, yes, saying the sentences and putting it all together [can be difficult]. Also, do you feel on the spot sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Aaron admits.

Sometimes, Aaron leaves out a preposition or an article in his communication. Even though he can get his point across that way, Amanda encourages him to use full sentences.

“Other people might let you get away with it, but I won't,” she tells him with a smile.

It's speech. I have to make you say the whole thing.”

In a third exercise, Amanda asks Aaron to describe the similarities and differences between pairs of words, like high school and college or waffles and pancakes. When he’s struggling to find a word, she offers encouragement and sometimes gives him the first letter or sound to help him retrieve the word he’s looking for.

As the session wraps up, their waffles vs. pancakes conversation leads to talk of their go-to Waffle House orders and favorite foods.

Next, Aaron will head to recreation therapy, where he’ll continue working on words — with a fierce game of Bananagrams.

Written by Ruth Underwood

“Walk or roll through our halls, and you’ll feel Dr. Apple’s presence everywhere: in our culture of compassion, in the courage of our patients, and in the dedication of every team member,” said Jamie Shepherd, MBA, MHA, FACHE, president and CEO of Shepherd Center. “Over more than 50 years of service, Dr. Apple changed the world of rehabilitative medicine — and he did it with heart, humor, and an unshakable belief in what is possible.” 

Shepherd Center was founded in 1975 after James Shepherd sustained a paralyzing spinal cord injury. As James recovered at Piedmont Hospital and a rehabilitation hospital in Colorado, family discussions began about the need to provide world-class rehabilitation closer to home, and a plan took shape. James and his parents, Harold and Alana Shepherd, began raising money and building a team. 

First on the to-do list was finding a medical director. The Shepherds immediately approached Dr. Apple, a West Virginia native who was raised in Kentucky. While in medical school at the University of Pennsylvania, he had an internship at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. In the region’s foremost trauma center, he saw the results of devastating falls, car crashes, gunshot wounds, pedestrian accidents, and other serious incidents.  

After serving in the United States Air Force for two years – the last as chief of surgery – he became an orthopedic resident at the University of Cincinnati Medical Center in late 1969. He completed two fellowships, one in orthopedic rehabilitation at Rancho Los Amigos Hospital in California and another in hand surgery in Louisville, Kentucky.  

By chance, in 1973, Dr. Apple was affiliated with Piedmont Hospital while James Shepherd was receiving care there. While he was only peripherally involved in James’ care, he formed a bond with the family. When the Shepherds approached him about joining their effort, a colleague warned him that pursuing the Shepherd Center dream would ruin his career. Despite the warning, Dr. Apple was eager to help make that dream a reality. Not only did it not ruin his career, it restored the lives of thousands of people who came to Shepherd Center. 

The stories of Dr. Apple’s impact run deep in Shepherd Center lore. For example, in 1975, Dr. Apple asked friends to donate to the hospital if he completed the Peachtree Road Race. He did finish the race, and a friend named George Johnson gave him a $100 check, the first donation from anyone not involved in the hospital’s founding. That was the first of many Peachtree Road Race events Dr. Apple would participate in, first as a runner and then a proud spectator from the top of Hope Hill. 

And when Dr. Apple saw the difference that recreation therapy could make in patients’ lives, he felt so passionately about it that he paid Shepherd Center’s first recreation therapist’s salary out of his own pocket for a full year. From that initial gift grew the country’s largest recreation therapy program, one that has created — and will continue to create — opportunities for patients to rediscover their passions and purpose after injury or illness.  

“That's one of Dr. Apple’s great legacies for Shepherd, is his understanding and vision for rec therapy, and how it was such a critical component of our patient care,” said Sara Chapman, longtime Shepherd supporter and Board of Directors’ corporate secretary. 

He also wasn’t afraid to go big to deliver a message. He once flew around the state in a helicopter as the honorary chair of the Georgia Seatbelt Coalition to inform audiences of the consequences of not wearing a seatbelt. Dr. Apple flew in a helicopter on another occasion, going to emergency rooms to demonstrate it was safe to transfer patients with spinal cord injuries by air.  

From 1975 to 2006, Dr. Apple served as Shepherd Center’s chief medical officer, growing the hospital from six beds to 152. With his leadership, Shepherd’s patients were able to return home, to their families, to their careers, and to the things they love.  

“Dr. Apple never asserted that he was the doctor,” said Jill Koval, Ph.D., ABPP-Rp, rehabilitation psychologist and psychology supervisor who has worked at Shepherd for 36 years. “He was always just someone who would roll up his sleeves with everybody else. And one of the most important things that he taught me as a leader was the importance of really listening, and respecting different opinions, but also thinking about the patients that we serve as whole people.” 

Though his impact on patients and families is clear, he also made his mark on the field of rehabilitation, co-founding the American Spinal Injury Association (ASIA) and the Orthopedic Rehabilitation Association. He helped launch a leading orthopedic journal and mentored generations of clinicians and scientists. Dr. Apple served as president of the Atlanta Clinical Society, the Atlanta Orthopedic Society, and the Georgia Orthopedic Society, receiving the F. J. Funk Award for outstanding service to the Society in 2017. He also served as president of the Society of National Basketball Association Physicians.  

He received numerous other awards, including the Humanitarian of the Year from the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons, the Distinguished Service Award from the Georgia Hospital Association, the Aven Citizenship Cup, Turner Broadcasting Super Citizens Award, and the American Spinal Injury Association Lifetime Achievement Award. Dr. Apple was also a member of the Spinal Cord Injury Hall of Fame.  

Even after stepping down from formal leadership, he continued to pour his time, talent, and passion into research, advocacy, and supporting Shepherd Center patients and staff, and ensuring that Shepherd Center was poised for growth for generations to come. 

Before his tenure at Shepherd Center, Dr. Apple graduated from Highlands High School in Fort Thomas, Kentucky, in 1954 as valedictorian, president of the class, and an outstanding athlete with varsity letters in basketball, football, and track. Next, he attended the University of Virginia as a Dupont Honor Scholar. While there, he ran as a protest candidate and became student body president. He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in biology before entering the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine in 1958 as a Noble Scholar.  

At the core of Dr. Apple’s heart was his love for Jane, his wife, and his four amazing children and their families. He enjoyed spending as much time as possible with his family, always celebrating each birthday with dinner at a favorite restaurant and attending his children’s and grandchildren’s sporting events. That love of family also extended to his Shepherd family. 

“We talk a lot here … about culture and what that means,” said Cheryl Linden, MA, LPC, MS, OT/L, who has worked at Shepherd for 30 years. “And Dr. Apple portrayed that in such a way because he lived the culture. And it wasn't just about patient care and family care. The culture was about care of all. Care of community. Care of each other.”  

Learn more about Dr. Apple's extraordinary life and leave a memory.

March is Multiple Sclerosis (MS) Awareness Month, a time to promote understanding of the chronic neurological condition that impacts one million diagnosed Americans and their families, friends, and care partners. Thanks to the efforts of researchers at Shepherd Center and around the globe, outcomes for people with MS have never been better, and the prognosis for someone diagnosed with MS today looks completely different than it would have 20, 15, or even 10 years ago.

To learn more about the research driving improvements in MS care, we caught up with Brad Willingham, Ph.D., director of the Multiple Sclerosis Research Program at Shepherd Center.

First, can you tell me about MS research at Shepherd? How are we different from other institutions conducting MS research?

That's exactly why I'm here at Shepherd: because we are very different. And it’s why I'm so honored to be a part of this organization and working to advance our mission through research.

Although I started my career here as a clinician at Shepherd Center, my scientific training is in neuromuscular physiology . So, a lot of my work has been focused in basic science. I spent almost five years at NIH [National Institutes of Health] doing deeply cellular-level work. It was fun. The questions were interesting. The technology was cool, but I wanted to be focusing more on work that has an immediate impact on patients.

At Shepherd, our work must be immediately relevant to those we serve and the clinicians who provide their care. Meaningful research is a mandate. Every experiment, every outcome is someone's life. And we get to see the impact we are making through our research in real time.

Additionally, Shepherd just has a different culture. Our clinicians are curious, they're motivated, they're looking to push the status quo, they're open-minded, and they're always questioning how to advance things. This creates an environment where researchers are welcome in the clinical spaces. They consider us part of the team. They're excited to share their needs and problems and questions with us.

How do you ensure research is addressing patient needs?

We actually start with the patients and with the clinicians, and we meet with them. We meet with them on a quarterly basis, sometimes more frequently, in what we call knowledge translation meetings. And we ask, ‘What are your needs? What are your questions? What are your barriers?’ And then from that, we work backwards.

We design scientific research studies to address a knowledge gap, or create and innovate a tool or solution, or create a way to overcome barriers to access and care. It's wonderful because we do get research that's directly relevant to the real world. It's immediately tailored and catered towards the needs of the patients and clinicians.

Because we start with the clinicians and patients, we do end up with quite a wide range of studies. We have studies in employment, studies in fatigue management, and studies on technology development, developing tools to make care more accessible.

We also have studies that are directly integrated into care, and so we're empowering clinicians to use the data they collect as part of their routine job to extract meaning from that, extract insights from that, to help refine their care, and explore what care may be most effective for different folks living with MS.

Does your team conduct any research looking at potential cures for MS?

Yes. We are very active in research that moves the field toward better treatments and, ultimately, a cure for MS. 

We have a fantastic clinical trials team here, led by Issi Clesson, RN, MSCN, CCRP, Director of Clinical Trials. We partner with pharmaceutical industry collaborators to evaluate the most cutting-edge disease-modifying therapies aimed at slowing or preventing MS progression as early as possible.

In the wider medical community, we've come a long way with disease-modifying therapies for MS. We have made tremendous advancements in preventing relapses and preventing disease progression with pharmacologic treatments, but that's just part of the story.

When someone has MS, the initial damage from the disease cascades throughout the body. It causes mobility impairments and fatigue and cognitive disruptions, bowel and bladder dysfunction, all of these things that impact your daily life. It's important that we not solely focus on a cure, but also help those who have already been impacted by MS to sustain their function, get back to doing the things they love, and mitigate the severity of disability progression.

You mentioned how far MS research has progressed in terms of pharmacology. What are some other advancements we’re seeing now? 

The research we’re working on now — which is really paradigm-shifting — is addressing one of the most long-standing and pressing challenges in MS care: the heterogeneity, or variability, we see in our patients. No two folks living with MS are living the same experience. 

People with MS most commonly report impairments in mobility and fatigue as their most common and most impactful, debilitating symptoms. But the reason why someone may have challenges with mobility or walking, or the reason someone may feel fatigued, is different from person to person. So, what we’re doing now is leveraging our new infrastructure in the Human Performance Lab, that allows us to systematically evaluate different physiological systems at the same time. This allows us to determine what is causing mobility impairment or fatigue from patient to patient. Because if we know that, we can apply a very targeted treatment. A one-size-fits-all approach is not going to work. By treating the symptom, you may not be addressing its underlying cause.

One of our current studies is the PRISM study (Precision Rehabilitation through Integrated System Modeling). We use the Human Performance Lab to systematically evaluate the body, from brain activity, to biomechanical movement, to muscle activation, to metabolism and cardiopulmonary function. We can evaluate all of these systems at the same time, during the exact same conditions, to tease out the underlying cause of what a patient is experiencing. Modern pharmacology achieves precision by targeting specific biological pathways in the body. Our goal is to bring that same level of precision to rehabilitation by identifying the underlying physiological processes that cause symptoms and designing therapies that address them directly.

A lot of things are coming together to make this possible. Almost daily, we hear of some new technology being invented. But it’s not just for convenience, it’s not just for entertainment anymore. With advancements in computing, imaging, sensors, neurophysiologic measurement systems, and AI, we can now see further than ever before. And we now have technology to make all these precise measurements, and it’s fast enough, affordable enough, and mobile enough to use in a clinical research lab .

And so, on the clinical side, this precision rehab approach, this PRISM approach, is going to allow more targeted therapies, with the goal of improving outcomes for patients in a more personalized, efficient, and cost-effective way. On the research side, it's also going to accelerate scientific discovery because we can capture more meaningful data that are more sensitive to changes in health and function. This can make clinical studies more efficient and help promising therapies move more quickly from research into real-world care for the people who need them most.

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Interview by Erin Kenney

For someone unfamiliar with Shepherd Center, that may read like a typo. It’s hard to imagine feeling joyful in the wake of such tragedy.

But for Rebecca and Justin, and hundreds of other patients and caregivers who’ve experienced recovery at Shepherd Center, joy was just part of the process. Of course, they also experienced grief and anxiety during Graham’s four-month hospital stay. But with the support of their family and friends, church community, hospital staff, and the other patients and families on their hall, they were able to delight in the small victories — at first, Graham’s small movements and words, at times slurred, but spoken all the same.

The Goldman family, made up of Rebecca, Justin, and their three children — Graham, Jake, and Shelby Kate, lives in Madison, Mississippi. They’re an active bunch, enjoying traveling and camping together. Graham was especially active, competing in tennis, football, track, and cross-country for his high school. He took up cycling about three years ago.

In cycling, Graham found drive, passion, and a welcoming community. He enjoyed road and gravel races with his dad — and the sport brought the pair closer together. Justin had coached many of Graham’s sports teams as he was growing up, but through cycling, he began to see his son as a peer.

“That's when our relationship really began the transition from more of a traditional father-son to almost more of a friend,” he says. “I mean, we got really, really close.”

Cycling helped Graham build confidence and endurance, as well as a new support system. The weekend before he sustained his injury, he completed a 60-mile race. But then on April 28, 2025, he was in a serious biking accident, resulting in a traumatic brain injury.

Right away, Graham’s parents knew they wanted to get Graham to Shepherd Center for rehabilitation. A friend from church had been to Shepherd a couple of years prior, and they felt the hospital would provide Graham with the care he needed to succeed, despite being five hours away from Madison.

Rebecca’s parents, who are retired, stepped in to care for Jake and Shelby Kate, promising her that “they would be there as long as they were needed,” she recalls. After weeks in the ICU, she and Graham made the journey to Atlanta, where Graham began his rehabilitation, and she settled in at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences. Thanks to a supportive company allowing him to adjust his schedule, Justin was able to travel to Atlanta frequently throughout Graham’s recovery.

“That was a really trying time for me because there was no rest,” Justin remembers. “I would come back and work hard and try to take care of our other kids, and then I flew [back to Atlanta] weekly because I couldn't afford the time to drive. I had to instantly get in the game and be refreshed and ready to stay in the room with Graham.”

When Justin was at Shepherd, he got involved in Graham’s therapy sessions. He says that encouraging his son in therapy wasn’t much different than cheering him on in sports or cycling — with Graham’s athlete mindset, Justin knew he was capable of overcoming hard things. Working alongside Shepherd Center’s therapists helped on that front, Justin says.

“[Graham’s therapists] were phenomenal ... both on the therapy side and as well as the joy and the smiles and the morale champions that they were to keep us uplifted,” Justin says.

And while Rebecca gives Justin credit for being Graham’s “biggest cheerleader” in therapy, he says his wife played a much larger role in their son’s recovery.

“My wife is very humble and kind. She carried the lion's share, of course,” he says. “I thank the Lord for giving us resiliency and energy [to care for Graham during his recovery]. I look back at it now, and I'm like, ‘How in the world did I do that? And how in the world did my wife do that, when I wasn't there?’ She was carrying that burden by herself.”

Rebecca stayed by Graham’s side throughout his recovery. Friends from back home often came to Shepherd to visit, sometimes dropping in because they said they were in the area, only for Rebecca and Justin to learn they were visiting Chattanooga or Birmingham. They were willing to drive the extra hours just to support Graham and his family.

Rebecca often spent the night with Graham in his hospital room, learning from his nurses and therapists how to care for him medically.

“The staff, the nurses, and the therapists were so great to teach us — to empower us to be able to do some of the things so that we were able to help him instead of always having to call a nurse or a therapist for help,” Rebecca says. “It was an honor to care for him in the ways that we were.”

Now, Graham is back home with his siblings and back to school part-time. He does outpatient therapy each week and continues to improve day by day. Rebecca and Justin aren’t sure what the future may hold, but that hasn’t stopped Graham from making plans of his own.

“We actually went back to Shepherd in the last week of December, and he saw all of his favorite therapists there that he thinks are all legends, and he loves them dearly,” Justin says. “He saw them, and he said, ‘I want to be a physical therapist. I want to be a PT, and I want to work at Shepherd.’”

Written by Erin Kenney

Incredibly, the MS Clinic team moved to the new space without missing a beat.

“We didn't close,” says Rebecca Duguid, PT, DPT, program manager for the MS Institute. “We treated patients the whole time.”

That meant getting used to new processes and systems while keeping the clinic running.

Wanda Bagley, RN, BSN, MSCN, MS infusion coordinator, says the transition was smooth.

“Everybody just jumped on board and started moving and setting up things and just trying to get stuff as organized as possible. And the next day we had our grand opening, so to speak, and just hit the ground running.”

The function of the new space is just as appealing as the aesthetic form. Here are some of the highlights:

Universal-design rooms

There are 26 universal-design rooms for exams or infusions, each outfitted with a lie-flat chair and a flat-screen TV for patients, as well as a point-of-service computer for the care team. The lighting can also be adjusted based on patient preference.

“I think the privacy of the rooms is a big win,” says Duguid. “And the universal infusion chairs that we have now, which patients can sit in, sleep in — they're very comfortable.”

Before the move, infusions, which can take anywhere from two to six hours, took place in an open space. The new individual rooms offer more space, comfort, and privacy. While some patients miss the camaraderie of a community space, now, they can bring visitors to sit with them during their infusion appointments, something that has rarely been possible since the COVID pandemic.

And the new reclining chairs have been a big hit with patients.

“We've had the recliners before, but these are chef's kiss,” says Bagley. “It's all electronic, so it can go completely flat like a bed … There's a zero-gravity function on the chair, which is just phenomenal because it takes all the pressure off of your lower back. There's a little fold-over table so patients can eat, or if they want to work, they have a space, and we also have a separate table that we can work on.”

Centralized nursing station and call light system

The rooms surround a central nursing station. Before, infusion nurses were in a separate area; now, all the nurses work in one large space, fostering communication and collaboration.

“With all of us sharing a nurses station space, there's always somebody around to be able to lend a hand, so that's helpful,” says Bagley.

Plus, a new call-light system allows patients and staff to alert one another if they need assistance. “We make heavy use of the call light system — whenever a patient or a staff member needs help. Before, I would have to run out to find somebody,” Bagley explains. “Now, we have this option, and I can have somebody come to me.”

Integrated equipment

New Hoyer lifts can charge at any point along the ceiling track, allowing staff to safely move patients anywhere in the clinic and from their wheelchairs to the new infusion chairs.

A 25-foot flooring inlay allows staff to assess patients’ gait as part of the standardized Multiple Sclerosis Functional Composite, an aesthetically pleasing combination of form and function.

Streamlined appointments with patient status updates

A digital status board by the nurses’ station provides real-time updates on scheduled appointments as they progress, and nurses can alert providers electronically when a patient is ready to see them.

Creature comforts

In addition to the reclining chairs and adjustable lighting, the team paid attention to other details that increase patient comfort.

There’s a space equipped with a coffee maker, refrigerator, and microwave, so patients who have long infusion appointments can chill or warm up a meal.

“We kept all of our amenities like our heated blankets and the snacks that we offer to the patients,” says Bagley.

Cabinets stocked with necessary supplies are in each room, so patient care supplies are at the team’s fingertips.

Robin Harris, who has been a patient at the MS Clinic for several years, says she likes the new space and the care she receives there.

“I really like the way that is set up because you're in your own little private room. And it's nice … It's more spacious, which is perfect. And as far as the care, the care is still there. I mean, the nurses come around and they're checking on you. And it's like you're never alone — someone is always right there if you need them.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

Whether it’s learning how to do a long-enjoyed activity in a different way or finding a new interest, involvement in positive and meaningful recreation promotes physical and mental health and helps reduce medical complications and the need for further medical intervention or hospitalization.

Beginning while patients are inpatients and continuing through potential involvement in the Alias Family Sports Teams and attendance at Shepherd’s health and wellness clinics post-discharge, the hospital’s recreation therapists ask patients what they love to do, what puts smiles on their faces, what goals they have, and what makes them feel alive. Then, with the right tools, they help them prepare for those adventures.

Trying Out New Wheels

On a recent winter morning, patients had the opportunity to test their adaptive cycling skills when Shepherd Center’s Recreation Therapy Program partnered with Catalyst Sports to host a clinic showcasing adaptive cycling gear in our Livingston Gym. There were plenty of adaptive bikes, including handcycles, to choose from based on patients’ interests and abilities, provided by Charles Stanley, of Catalyst Sports and Shepherd Center. 

As part of Shepherd’s goal to create opportunities for patients to rediscover their passions and purpose, adaptive cycling clinics are typically held each month. They are often integrated into patients’ schedules based on their goals and interests. And that’s not all – when the weather is warmer, Shepherd partners with Catalyst to take patients on monthly group rides on paved trails just outside Atlanta.

“These clinics and outings are a great opportunity for essentially every patient we serve. There are many different configurations, adaptations, and styles for bikes that make cycling suitable for almost any type of injury or disability,” says Brandon Clift, BS, ACSM EP-C, ACSM CIFT, CASC, sports specialist in Shepherd Center’s Recreation Therapy Program. “Cycling allows people to get outdoors, improve their cardiovascular fitness and overall function, and socialize with friends and family.”

Playing in the Dirt

When the weather outside is frightful (or at least cold!), horticulture therapist Wendy Battaglia has plenty of ideas for how to experience horticulture indoors. She puts those ideas to good use, coming up with horticulture lessons and activities for patients like Roger Alexander.

This is Alexander’s fourth horticulture therapy session since he arrived at Shepherd after sustaining a spinal cord injury. Battaglia offered a few options for activities, and Alexander chose to plant a paperwhite bulb, or as Battaglia explains, he’s “forcing” the bulb, because rather than planting it in dirt, he placed it in a vase with pebbles and water. As he opened and closed lids to jars of colorful stones, Alexander shared his excitement about the progress he has made since his first horticulture therapy session with Battaglia a month ago.

“The first time, I couldn't even open the jars. The second time, I could open them, but it was still hard,” he explains.

He continued the task, nestling the bulb into the pebbles, writing on a label, and tying a bow — all actions that required fine motor skills.

“I was nervous the first day I came, and all I was doing was planting sunflower seeds. I could barely move my hands,” Alexander says.

On this day, he was able to clearly label his paperwhite.

“I find for so many patients this is the first time they’re trying handwriting, and they’re always surprised at how well they do,” Battaglia says.

By the end of the session, Alexander has his paperwhite planted and has instructions for its care — over the coming weeks, he’ll be able to see the roots and the shoot as they grow.

“All is well in horticulture,” Alexander says. “I love it.”

Taking a Swing 

For Shepherd Center patients, just looking out the window might spark a therapy goal. In some patient rooms and clinics, that means looking over the nearby Bobby Jones Golf Course. When the weather is good, Shepherd Center recreation therapists take groups to the golf course to try out adaptive golf. And even in the winter months, volunteers from the Georgia State Golf Association (GSGA) Adaptive Golf Program visit the hospital to introduce patients to adaptive golf equipment and share pointers to help them improve their game, regardless of their injury or illness. They, along with Shepherd Center’s recreation therapists, also help patients look for adaptive resources closer to home. 

Sam Taylor, who sustained a spinal cord injury when he was shot while on duty as an Evansville, Indiana, police officer, is attending one of the golf clinics in the Livingston Gym on his last day as a Day Program patient. He practices his swing while using a ParaGolfer, an adaptive golf wheelchair that allows him to swing from a standing position. Taylor enjoyed golf before his injury and is eager to get back on the course — he saw the golf clinic as a great opportunity to give it a try.

“Being in a controlled environment where I can get instructions based upon my injury ... I figured the best chance I had to start golfing again would be to learn from people who know the adaptive portion.”

In addition to trying the ParaGolfer, Taylor got some pointers on improving his swing while using his own wheelchair. 

Other patients join in on the clinic too, like Josh Smith. To see Smith’s swing, you wouldn’t know this is only his second time playing golf, the first being during the previous month’s clinic in the gym. Smith is also wrapping up his time in the SCI Day Program. A putt-putt outing piqued his interest in golf, so he tried the golf clinic.

“Getting in the ParaGolfer and working with [the instructors], I was like, 'Oh, this is sweet, I definitely want to come back,’ Smith says. "My grandpa's a big golfer, too, so maybe this will be something we can have fun with, and it turns out I'm not bad at it. They're great teachers, and it's a lot of fun.”

Throwing a Pot

The walls of the art room at Shepherd Center are decked with brightly painted guitars, paintings on canvas, and colorful collages. Counters are covered with projects in progress, and shelves are filled with ceramic mugs and figurines waiting to be glazed.

Twenty-year-old Maddie Snyder rolls her wheelchair up to an adaptive pottery wheel situated in a nook at the edge of the room, the pottery studio. She pushes back her sleeves and puts on a plastic apron. Claire Tadeo, an art specialist at Shepherd Center, adjusts the table height to a comfortable level for Snyder, and her lesson on throwing a pot on the wheel is ready to begin.

After a brief pause so Snyder can text her dad a lunch takeout order, Tadeo shows her how to adjust the wheel’s speed and hands her a ball of clay, instructing her to throw it with some force at the center of the wheel. Snyder takes aim and gets the clay in a good spot on the first try.

A sophomore at North Carolina State University in Raleigh, North Carolina, Snyder came to Shepherd Center in mid-December after she was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré Syndrome. Soon, she’ll wrap up her inpatient rehabilitation and continue in the Day Program.

This is Snyder’s first time in the art room at Shepherd. “I felt like it would be fun and satisfying to do my own pottery,” she says.

Tadeo talks Snyder through how to center the clay on the wheel, sometimes guiding her hands to show how much pressure to apply, while telling her about the adaptive tools that are available if she needs them.

“In addition to the pottery wheel often being a new experience, it also helps work on upper body strength and upper extremity range of motion,” Tadeo explains. “To center the clay, you are utilizing your upper body to push and pull it toward the middle of the wheel. There is also a large focus on fine motor skills when creating an opening in the clay and building up the walls of your piece.”

With Tadeo’s guidance, Snyder centers the clay, presses a hole in the center, and pulls it upward, to create a cup, which she says she’ll use for pencils. She contemplates the height and decides to pull a little more clay from the bottom, to make the cup taller.

As she cleans the clay off her hands and arms, Snyder adds another reason she chose to try pottery.

“My hands were kind of shaky, and I knew I couldn’t paint pretty like I used to, so I thought, ‘Oh, that might make me sad, so I’ll try pottery, and if it doesn’t work out, oh well,’ but it was really fun.”

Snyder is working on standing and walking with some of her other therapists. She’s gotten good at transferring from her wheelchair, so next time, she might try the traditional wheel, which, Tadeo explains, requires more balance and core strength.

For now, Tadeo sets the cup on a shelf to dry. When Snyder returns for her next art therapy sessions, she’ll trim the cup, add her initials, and glaze it. Once it’s fired in the kiln, the cup will be ready for pencils — and to go home with her.

Hunting Wild Hogs

On a recent, warmer-than-usual January evening, Adam Cope sat quietly in a hunting blind with Gavin McClintock, Shepherd Center’s outdoor recreation specialist, and Brandon Clift, BS, ACSM EP-C, ACSM CIFT, CASC, sports specialist. This Shepherd Center Health and Wellness Clinic took place on a 225-acre farm in Reynolds, Georgia, owned by a former Shepherd patient, who also provided lodging for the night.

As night fell, the men had their eyes trained on the field in front of them, awaiting the arrival of wild hogs.

Cope, who has always enjoyed outdoor activities and has grown up hunting, first heard about trips like this one when he came to Shepherd Center for rehabilitation after sustaining a spinal cord injury (SCI). McClintock told him to keep an eye on the Health and Wellness Clinic calendar after his discharge and to join a trip if he could.

Cope says he was fortunate — now five years post-injury, he can walk independently and doesn’t have many lingering effects of his SCI beyond general weakness in his legs. He sees recreation therapy as an essential part of rehabilitation.

“I would say it's vital. I know that while I was still unsure of what my future was going to look like, one of the things I was the most anxious about was what was my recreation going to be?” he explains. “I've personally never been satisfied with just doing things at the house or, you know, arts and crafts and that sort of thing. I enjoy that stuff, but it’s never been fulfilling like getting outside.”

On this night, the group spent several hours in the ground blind. Finally, 10 to 15 hogs wandered into the area, but not for long. “I learned that hogs are actually very easy to spook,” Cope explains.

Cope has also participated in Shepherd’s fly-fishing clinics — his favorite.

“I've enjoyed the events I've come to. The fly-fishing event was the first time I've ever done that, too. So, the program has exposed me to things that I otherwise may not have done, and it adds that layer of comfort, being able to do it partnered up with Shepherd Center.”

Joining a Jam Session

It’s a Monday morning at 9 a.m., but the recreation room at the SHARE Military Initiative is already rocking as guitar riffs and drumbeats fill the air.  

SHARE clients Collin Tubbs, Corey Hickman, and Joe Merritt, along with volunteer Bruce Warren, have gathered for music therapy. Board-certified music therapist Thomas Miller checks in with everyone as they arrive. This session is Tubbs’ first, and Miller asks him what instrument he’d like to play. Tubbs suggests he might just sit and listen today, but Miller isn’t having it, encouraging him to play — Tubbs chooses a bass guitar.

As they settle in, Miller reminds another participant, “Elephants and donkeys grow big ears,” to help him remember the order of the strings on his acoustic guitar: E-A-D-G-B-E.

Miller remarks upon how comfortably Tubbs holds the bass guitar.

“Well, I used to play bass,” he admits. The group laughs since he had almost opted to observe.

They try out a Bill Withers song some members of the group worked on the previous week. Hickman, who has been at SHARE for a couple of months, says this is only his second music session. He appears to have learned a lot and says that’s because Miller is a good teacher.

“I enjoy music, and I enjoy working in a team setting — it’s more relaxing than playing on your own,” Hickman says. “And I wanted to expand my horizons a little.”

Beside him, Merritt drums on a djembe — his own. His dog, Trigger, sits beside his chair.

“Over the last two years, as my symptoms got worse, I turned to music and drumming,” Merritt shares later. “I try and play every day, when the rhythm hits. I’ve only been drumming a few months, and always on my own. I was so excited about music group!”

Warren, who is new to volunteering at Shepherd but seasoned on the acoustic guitar, accompanies them.

The group jokes with one another as they play through one song, then another, with Miller giving tips on hand position and posture, clapping out rhythms, and, once the group has the hang of it, even singing along to one of the tunes.

As they work their way through a new song, clearly enjoying the combination of focus and fun, Tubbs tells him, “I haven’t played in forever, and it’s my brain trying to keep up with all this stuff.”

“I’m glad I didn’t let you just sit and listen,” Miller replies.

Building Community 

Birdwatching, horticulture, jewelry making, book club, yoga — Pam Gavin has attended dozens of Shepherd Center’s Health and Wellness Clinics.

“I’m very outgoing, I like people, I like to try new things, and I really love Katie [Harmon, CTRS, health and wellness program lead],” she explains. “And I love life!”

That love for people and zest for life are evident in how she spends her time. Now 70 years old, Gavin, who was born with cerebral palsy, has lived independently for most of her adult life. After graduating from college and earning a master’s degree in social work, she began volunteering three days a week at St. Vincent Hospital in Indianapolis, where she lived until recently. She served thousands of hours at the hospital and won a “Health Care Heroes” award for her service.

So, when family and life circumstances made moving to Georgia to be closer to her sister, Lynn, seem like a wise choice, Gavin had to leave her volunteer role and the support system she had built. When she got to Atlanta, she saw Shepherd’s Health and Wellness Clinics as an opportunity to try new things, meet new people, and create a new community.

And she’s doing just that. She’s been to Chastain Park for a horsemanship clinic where she rode the aptly named “Elvis,” a mechanical horse who “rocks and rolls,” helping her work on her balance. She’s attended craft-making workshops, a weekend at Camp Twin Lakes for outdoor and adventure-based activities, and, one of her favorites, joined trips to the Atlanta Botanical Garden. She especially enjoys the horticulture clinics and says many of the same people attend each session.

"Everyone who gets to know Pam loves her — clinic participants and staff alike,” says Harmon, who organizes Shepherd’s health and wellness clinics. 

Recently, Gavin and her sister went on a bucket-list ski trip to Steamboat Springs, Colorado, organized by Shepherd in partnership with Steamboat Adaptive Recreational Sports (STARS) and sponsored by the Jack Trottier Foundation, which helps offset the trip’s cost for participants.

“[The group] stayed together in a nice big lodge, and they’ve got big rooms with nice bathrooms, and everything is accessible,” Gavin says.

"I had never been skiing in my life because I didn’t think it was possible — and what I’m learning about Shepherd is that they make everything become possible — I don’t know how they do it, but they make everything become possible."

Written by Ruth Underwood 

How long have you worked at Shepherd Center?

I’ve been at Shepherd for a total of six years, including two years PRN (as needed). There are four full-time phlebotomists here at Shepherd: Tracy Simmons Johnson, Raven Greer, Chyna Weatherly, and me, and three PRN phlebotomists. We have a spectacular team.

What does a phlebotomist do?

We collect lab [specimens.] We collect blood. We’re the vampires! Each phlebotomist is assigned two floors each day.  Some mornings, we draw blood from anywhere from 60 to 70 patients. Then, we return to the lab where we began receiving the specimens, readying them for processing by our lab techs. By the time most staff are making their way to work, we have done the bulk of our workday! We then continue to receive labs, answer phone calls from other departments such as outpatient clinics, and assist them with hard sticks. We have two reference labs where we send specimens we don’t process here — Mayo [Clinic] Laboratories and Piedmont Hospital. We prepare the specimens for Mayo pickup, and we walk any labs that go to Piedmont over multiple times a day.

How did you know you wanted to be a phlebotomist?

I started out as a wound care tech in 1993 at DeKalb Medical Center. From there, I worked as an EKG/X-ray technician in a medical practice, where I also gained my knowledge of phlebotomy. In 2005, I joined Piedmont Hospital, where I worked as the lead lab assistant for a 12-physician medical practice. My duties included training phlebotomists and medical assistants who were new hires in my district, which totaled nine practices. I worked there for 16 years before I joined Shepherd Center.

I like the role because you work independently and you go at your own pace. Sometimes you have to take that extra time to talk to the patient and make them feel comfortable. And that's what we do here. We have a great phlebotomy team.

What is the most fulfilling part of your job?

The most fulfilling to me is when you've gone to a room and a patient's terrified, and when you draw them, and they look at you and say, ‘Well, I didn't even know you did it.’ They're no longer afraid. It's just winning them over and making them feel as comfortable as you can because they already don't feel well or are petrified of [having blood drawn]. So, once you kind of calm them down and you let them know ‘I'm done’ — ‘What, you finished? I didn’t even know you did it!’

I think you just have to be really confident, be patient with the patients, let them know what you're doing, and let them ask questions. I think that makes for a better experience for both of us.

How do you think your role impacts patients and families?

When we enter a patient’s room, we’re very confident and positive about our ability to perform and succeed in our task. There are many times we enter a room where the patients are very afraid of having labs drawn. Some patients will greet us with “They say I’m a hard stick.” My response is always, “Lucky for you, they don’t work here.” Or I’ll ask, “Do you have a preference, where do you want me to stick to you?’ and let them make the decision. ‘You know, you’ve had this limb longer than I’ve been sticking you.”  

As I stated before, we have a spectacular team. If one of us is unsuccessful, there is always another one of us who will succeed. I love it here!

Education

DeKalb Technical Institute

Fun Facts

Tressa has close friendships with her co-workers and often talks to them on the way to and from work!

She got her formal education at DeKalb Technical Institute, but says she's developed her expertise in other fields through on-the-job learning.

Tressa enjoys spending time with her family.

She has three children and five grandchildren.

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Interview by Ruth Underwood

Upon Mike Hynes’ arrival at Shepherd Center, he remembers meeting Elliot Scott, his charge nurse, as well as the other nurses on his floor. 

“They were just super friendly and very smiley,” he remembers. “Laughter was such a good medicine with them, just to distract from my world being turned upside down. But their professionalism and customer service was just as good as their personalities.” 

Mike was living in Virginia and working as a Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agent in 2024 when he was assaulted, resulting in a spinal cord injury (SCI). He was in the intensive care unit at the University of Virginia Health University Medical Center for a month before transferring to Shepherd Center. 

During his inpatient therapy, Mike’s girlfriend and sister took turns staying in family housing to support him. After inpatient therapy, Mike stayed for a month of outpatient therapy in the Spinal Cord Injury Day Program, which he said helped prepare him for his transition home. 

“Not only was it nice to have that extra therapy, but [to stay in] housing, just to kind of transition to being on your own a little more, having a little kitchen to use ... it's a nice transition period,” he says. 

Mike also went on several recreation therapy outings, including a trip to an Atlanta Braves game and to the Atlanta FBI office, where he practiced navigating the building using his wheelchair. He also fondly remembers Tuesday night family dinners as a time to meet with other patients and their families. 

After Day Program, Mike returned to Virginia, but his transition has not been without its challenges. Unfortunately, Mike couldn’t return to his job as an FBI field agent, and the agency didn’t have an available office position compatible with his qualifications and pay grade. He’s also had to navigate a divorce. 

But his friends and former FBI colleagues have continued to support him, coming by for visits or going out for dinner or a movie. Mike has also continued physical and occupational therapy, working to increase his strength and independence. 

“It's been a rough year or two, but I think I'm out of the worst part,” he says. “[My goals for the next year] are maybe finding another job, and continuing to build strength in therapy, and to continue to become more independent.”

Written by Erin Kenney

Private First Class Jennifer Boston knew who she was pre-injury. Outgoing. Bubbly. Miss Get Things Done.

She designed clothing and shoe lines. She traveled extensively, especially as a civilian employee following her separation from the Army — to places like Japan, South Korea, Germany, the United Kingdom, and Cuba. And she wrote children’s books, including one about relocating her family from Atlanta to Tokyo, written from the perspective of her then 5-year-old daughter, Juju.

Jennifer did not recognize who she was post-injury.

A traumatic brain injury she sustained while working in a civilian role in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, seemed to sap her of her confidence and her motor skills. She became reserved. Paranoid. At times, she wanted to disappear.

Thankfully, a referral led her to Shepherd Center’s SHARE Military Initiative. The program serves military veterans, service members, and first responders with traumatic brain injuries and mental health concerns.

Jennifer was skeptical. Still guarded, still reticent to share. But, she soon felt at ease among the camaraderie of her fellow veterans.

“Next thing I know, I started opening up. We’re all connected through our service, our injuries. Once I started participating, everyone was so supportive,” Jennifer says.

Similarly, Jennifer was unsure, at first, about all the activities available within SHARE. “I mean, it was awesome. But tai chi in the pool? Music classes? Yoga? Horticulture? What is this place? How is all this helping my condition?”

Slowly but surely, Jennifer realized the answer. Paired with her new treatment plan and therapy sessions, these activities were helping her heal. And showing her that living life was possible again.

“I went from totally withdrawn to fully immersed. From ‘why’ to ‘wow,’” Jennifer recalls. “I started feeling like a person again. Not a shell, not an outcast.”

She also considers herself a lifetime ambassador for SHARE.

“Our time in service is usually a small percentage of veterans’ lives. We have families, we have lives post-service. We need to take care of ourselves, for the sake of those around us, too."

Written by Phillip Jordan

The way to Kaedan Everhart’s heart typically follows a path worn by horses, dirt bikes, and four-wheelers. Yes, it takes a lot to get Kaedan Everhart indoors. For anything other than a line dance, that is.

The 18-year-old from Statesville, N.C., goes by K-Lo among his friends at the rodeos where he ropes and the stables where he rides. Throughout high school, you’d just about always find a cowboy hat on his head and boots on his feet. Except for fall Friday
nights when the talented cornerback donned a football helmet instead.

“If it’s outdoors, I’m up for it,” Kaedan says. “That’s where I’m happy. That’s where I’m me.”

On Oct. 13, 2024, however, Kaedan sustained several serious injuries in a car accident, including a traumatic brain injury (TBI). His always-in-motion life came to a standstill, with a ventilator helping him breathe and operations to repair broken bones and brain bleeds. 

The great outdoors seemed very far away.

Kaedan eventually transferred to Shepherd Center’s Adolescent Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program. His care team set to work right away, getting him mobile again. As Kaedan’s brain awakened, his therapists challenged the young athlete with activities to help him re-learn to think, speak, and walk.

As part of his therapy, Shepherd Center staff even took Kaedan to a horse ranch to practice his skills. And they spent extra time addressing his right-side motor deficits, a consequence of his TBI.

“That meant the most to me,” Kaedan says. “They got my arm moving again. It doesn’t straighten all the way, but I can use it for all the things I enjoy doing.”

Indeed, he’s back to roping and riding once again, his most important and peaceful pastimes. This fall, he’s working at a ranch where he drives a horse wagon. The job is just a part-time one, as he’s now in his freshman year at Mitchell Community College, with plans to transfer next
year to North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University. Kaedan’s studying agribusiness with an eye, no surprise, toward a career that will keep him outdoors.

“God has something for me, ahead of me,” Kaedan says. “I’m thankful I get to see what it is now."

Written by Phillip Jordan

For Gloria Bone, managing her multiple sclerosis (MS) means maintaining independence. With help from Shepherd Center’s Driving Evaluation and Rehabilitation Program, she’s doing just that.

Gloria was diagnosed with MS about 15 years ago, and for the last 10 years, she’s been going to Shepherd Center’s Andrew C. Carlos Multiple Sclerosis Institute. There, she’s participated in physical therapy and pain management, which have helped her maintain her active lifestyle as a retired IBM administrator and educator, mother, and dedicated volunteer in her community. 

A few years ago, however, MS symptoms began interfering with Gloria’s ability to drive. She started experiencing drop foot, characterized by difficulty lifting the front part of the foot. She made the decision to stop driving until her MS team referred her to the Driving Evaluation and Rehabilitation Program.

Gloria says that going into the program, she wasn’t expecting to get on the road right away. But with the help of Lakisha Gray, MSOT, OTR/L, CDRS, an occupational therapist and certified driving rehabilitation specialist, she was back in the driver’s seat. Gray taught Gloria how to use hand controls rather than foot pedals, allowing her to drive safely even when experiencing drop foot. She also helped Gloria manage her hesitation and anxiety toward getting back on the road.

After driving one of Shepherd Center’s adaptive vans, Gloria moved on to driving her own vehicle using hand controls. She says Gray met her at her car dealership the day they installed the controls to do a test drive, followed by a couple of additional practice sessions.

“[The support] matters a lot for a person like me, coming in being an older woman who’s used to doing what she pretty much wants to do,” she says. “Lakisha is so soft-spoken and patient and encouraging ... I think that’s part of her DNA.”

It’s been a little over two years since Gloria finished training in the program, and her ability to drive has made a world of difference. She credits Gray, as well as her family’s support, for giving her freedom back. 

“[Driving rehabilitation] has been the most beneficial to me. With the progression of the disease, and the inability to be as mobile as I want to be, [driver training] has provided me with the will and desire to continue to do things — it gives me joy to know this is one thing that hasn’t been taken,” she says.

Written by Erin Kenney