John Morgan lives in Florence, South Carolina, with his wife, Christy, who is also a musician. Before his stroke, in addition to teaching middle and high school orchestra, John Morgan performed as a violinist with Florence’s community symphony and at events and weddings. Christy teaches piano and is the collaborative pianist with the choir at another local high school.

Caused by an arteriovenous malformation (an irregular tangle of blood vessels), the stroke affected his left side, impacting his ability to walk and his strength and fine motor skills in his left arm and hand. He spent several days in the ICU in Florence and then transferred to a local inpatient rehabilitation center. There, he says, he made a lot of progress, especially with his lower body.

“I went from being completely immobilized to being able to walk with a cane,” he remembers.

While trying to decide where John Morgan should continue his rehabilitation, his wife and dad learned about Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient brain injury rehabilitation program. When he got to Pathways, John Morgan was impressed by his therapists.

“I had a very good experience at Pathways. All the therapists I worked with were really good, very kind, very compassionate. They were very good at connecting with the patients.”

He and his therapists got right to work with physical, occupational, speech, music, mental health, and recreational therapy.

John Morgan worked on balance, so he could walk without a cane or ankle-foot orthosis (AFO). He used a driving simulator to prepare to drive with an adaptive steering wheel spinner knob. He played games focused on pattern recognition to sharpen his cognitive skills.

“Recreational therapy, that was unexpected and fun. I got to play games. But it was still therapy, so that was fun.”

He appreciated his care team’s approach.

“I liked that they kind of took a holistic approach and found ways to make [therapy] personally meaningful and rewarding. I think that was more of an emphasis at Shepherd Center, and they had more resources that made that possible.”

One such therapy session included a trip to a nearby hiking trail with Christy and his physical therapist.

“My physical therapist was there the whole time, guiding me through it, making sure I was safe. But it was really cool because one of the things that Christy and I really enjoyed before my stroke was hiking and going to parks and things. And it was really, really cool that they were able to incorporate that into my therapy.”

Music therapy with board-certified music therapist Thomas Miller, MS.Ed, LPMT, MT-BC, was, of course, also a highlight. Even his office made a lasting impression on John Morgan.

“I remember just the way he had his office set up; he had a lot of memorabilia and pictures from a whole bunch of different artists and a whole bunch of different genres and things. So no matter where you're coming from with your musical preferences, there's something in there that you could connect to,” John Morgan explains. “And that inspired me to decorate my classroom the same way. I'm not as comprehensive as Thomas is, but I’ve tried to have artists from a variety of genres or memorabilia from a variety of genres [in my classroom] that students can connect to.”

And since he had his eye on returning to work, John Morgan’s therapists challenged him to create a lesson plan and teach it to other patients. He developed a concept, prepared slides, and taught the lesson.

“That was a very rewarding experience because it went really well. It was a pretty successful lesson and at the end, I remember having a feeling that I can still teach, even though all this has happened to me, I can still go back and be good at something. So that was very rewarding.”

Planning for a Return to Work

Vocational rehabilitation counselor Zac Bradley, MS, CRC, NCC, CVE, helped John Morgan plan his return to the classroom.

“Zac was and is just amazing. He was really good at his job,” says John Morgan. “I knew I wanted to go back to work, but I had not even thought about what that process would look like. He did a really good job of explaining, ‘Here's what needs to happen,’ and breaking it down, giving me the tools that I needed to think through to make sure that I was ready.

“Just having him there to walk me through the process was really helpful. And Christy was in most of the sessions with me. And so she would be taking notes and asking questions. And sometimes she would have questions about things that I hadn't thought of.”

Bradley sustained a spinal cord injury 15 years ago, during his first year of college.

“It was also just really encouraging for me to see someone who had gone through an injury and returned to work. And now he was the person coaching me on how to go back to work after my stroke,” John Morgan recalls. “That was a very meaningful and powerful part of working with Zac was knowing that he had already gone through some version of this process and had come out the other side as a successful person in his field. So that had a big impact on me.”

John Morgan graduated from Shepherd Pathways in July and returned to the classroom full-time in August. He continued physical and occupational therapy close to home and still participates in occupational therapy to improve strength and dexterity in his left hand. Getting back to work helped him maintain his music-related skills — and returning to the classroom has been meaningful.

“It has been a very rewarding part of my life.”

While getting back to teaching has been fulfilling for John Morgan, his stroke also helped see his work in a different light. He says now, he views his health as his biggest priority. In hindsight, he says he wishes he had worked only part-time at first and devoted more time to his rehab during the first year following his stroke.

“I saw a lot of my identity in my work. And I thought the way to move forward and recover was not necessarily for me to get better physically, but for me to just prove that I could go back to work and do what I used to do before the stroke. And I've kind of shifted to I now think that my health is more important to me than work. And I'm trying to make time for my physical health, my rehab, because I think that's going to be more meaningful for me in the long run.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

On Nov. 2, 2025, Kobe Gibbs was riding in a car when it hit a concrete wall. He sustained a traumatic brain injury, fractured spine, broken jaw, and collapsed lung. He was unconscious in the ICU at Tampa General Hospital for 25 days.

Staff at the hospital told his mother, Jamila, that Shepherd Center was the best place for his rehabilitation.

Kobe arrived at Shepherd Center on Nov. 22, still unconscious and using a ventilator to help him breathe. Jamila was impressed that therapists began working with him on the first day.

“They got right down to business,” Jamila says. “They fitted him for a wheelchair and started physical, occupational, and speech therapy. Even though he was unconscious, they could see what I couldn’t.”

Three days later, Kobe woke up. He spent the next three months relearning to walk, talk, swallow, and working to regain his memory and his strength.

“He made progress faster than they thought he would,” Jamila says. “We learned to celebrate every small step.”

Kobe, who is 6-foot-8, played college basketball before the crash and brought that same discipline and work ethic to his rehabilitation. He also stayed positive and tried to share that positivity with others.

“I was motivated by the ‘no’s,’” Kobe says. “When they told me I couldn’t do something, I worked hard to prove them wrong. If I doubted myself, then it would become a reality.”

He was walking on his own by the time he left Shepherd Center on Jan. 8 to continue his recovery at Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient brain injury rehabilitation program. He returned home on Feb. 20.

Kobe now plays some basketball, helps train people at his church gym and continues physical therapy. His goal is to return to college, but instead of continuing with business classes, he is considering becoming a personal trainer.

“I appreciated the people who helped me get back in shape, and I would like to do that for others,” Kobe says.

For Jamila, Kobe’s recovery also reflected the support and encouragement they found throughout their time at Shepherd Center.

“Shepherd is a place of hope,” Jamila says. “And it’s a community where everyone knows what you’re going through. They were treating Kobe, but they were also taking care of and supporting me. They showed us so much hope, encouragement and knowledge through the darkest time of my life.”

Written by Sara Baxter

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

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.”
 

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 

“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

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

“It’s fascinating,” Heather says. “They were having him do circus tricks, it seemed like, but he did a great job.” Jeff’s room is “their” room. While their kids and Jeff’s parents have stayed on and off at the Arthur M. Blank Family Residences down the street, Heather has opted to stay in the room with Jeff, fashioning a makeshift mattress out of pillows and a fitted sheet (her advice on mattress options later).

The Millicans arrived at Shepherd Center just a couple of weeks earlier. On Sept.14, Jeff sustained a traumatic brain injury (TBI) along with broken bones and multiple internal injuries when he was hit by a car while helping with a crash on the interstate. After a month at Gulf Coast Medical Center in Fort Myers, Florida, he transferred to Shepherd’s Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit, where he has been participating in physical, occupational, and speech therapy, with Heather by his side.

“I love how involved I can be,” Heather says. “I mean, I'm here. I love that I can spend the night. That was not the case in the ICU (in Florida) after the first three days. And that was really hard on both of us, because we've been together since I was 18. Literally, we've grown up together, and so that was really difficult. So, it's been nice to be able to be here, kind of in the rhythm of everything.”

It's a new rhythm, of course, and while they’re fully focused on therapy, both Heather and Jeff are eager to get back to their “normal.” Heather, a teacher and librarian, and Jeff, a fire battalion chief, live in Bradenton, Florida. They have two boys, ages 20 and 24, and Heather says, with both boys now out of the house, she and Jeff are “empty nesting pros.” When not working, they have been traveling, going to concerts, and enjoying time outdoors together.

“We like adventures. We like traveling, kayaking, hiking, paddleboarding, biking, college football, we don't sit still very well,” she explains.

She says that after Jeff’s injury, getting to Shepherd marked a milestone for them.

“One of the hardest things, I think, was watching Jeff recover in the other hospital. They 100% saved his life, and they did a phenomenal job. But as he was recovering, wanting rehab, wanting more to happen for him, neurologically, physically — and they're not a rehab hospital, which I totally understood,” Heather explains. “We kept saying, ‘Okay, here's a checklist of things we need to do. We need to get off this. We need to get off this. We need to do this so we can move to Shepherd. And so getting to Atlanta became our mantra.… It was a big milestone in his recovery because we knew he was stable enough. We knew we were ready for it.”

And she was thrilled when things began to happen soon after they arrived.

“Once we got here, we were in therapy all day and all the things, and it's so tailored to what Jeff wants to do and what we used to do. It's so heartwarming … you know, we keep talking about our normal. We just want our normal back. And it will never be the same because WE won't be exactly the same. But to know that they want that for us, too. They want him to ride his bike, and go kayaking, and go paddleboarding — and they’re making exercises specifically for that is amazing.”

Shepherd Center encourages caregivers to be involved in their loved ones’ care and to learn as much as possible during their recovery. Heather is an essential member of Jeff’s care team, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I go to the therapies, I get the homework or tips or tricks and things to work on for now and in the future, even keeping a running list of things we're going to need for the house for exercises and stuff like that. Because we're a team in this, you know, if we're going to get better every day, we've got to both be working for it.”

She also says joining Jeff for therapy sessions, taking notes, and soaking in the information has felt empowering.

“I think that's been my biggest outlet because it allows me to be very active during the day. Do you know what I mean? There's not a lot of languishing.”

And she gets to see Jeff’s progress.

“I'm proud of him because he's doing things that would not be in his comfort zone and doing it willingly,” Heather says. “You know, asking for help if he needs it, waiting a second to try to understand something, or doing something that seems like it should be easy, but it's a tool.”

‘Get Better Every Day’

Heather probably wouldn’t call herself a “caregiver” — maybe a teammate or, she jokes, a “drill sergeant.”

But shifting roles has been just one part of the rehabilitation journey, layered with uncertainty, impatience, medical milestones and setbacks, overwhelm, gratitude, and hope.

“I am not responsible for many things, apparently, in our lives, besides working,” she laughs. “He does a lot of our bills and our travel plans. So, I had to learn.”

Part of the learning process involved canceling plans the couple had for concerts, sporting events, and travel in the near future, plus paying bills, navigating insurance, and making sense of reports on Jeff’s medical condition.

And dealing with uncertainty.

“Just the unknown,” she says. “We both want our regular life back, and it's going to take time. What does that look like — him returning to work when trying to fit in the therapies, and me going back to work at some point?

And it's been hard, but our mantra is ‘get better every day.’ So we're getting better every day, and we have each other, and we're blessed beyond measure for that.”

She’s grateful for the support of family and friends at every stage of the journey and is glad their kids and Jeff’s parents can stay nearby in family housing, helping with logistics and just being there to spend time as a family.

Accepting that support has been another transition. As a firefighter and a teacher, Jeff and Heather are used to being the helpers. “We're not used to being the center of attention. We're the givers, we're the helpers. So that role reversal kind of feels weird,” she explains.

With all the support she and Jeff have received, Heather shares another outlet that she has found helpful.

“This may sound silly, but … writing thank-you notes. … The fire community has been astounding for us. [Jeff’s] union has always been a brotherhood, but they just swooped in and, when I couldn't stand, made sure we were going to be fine. … And then my school community and our friends. So just being able to write, it’s almost like journaling, so that's been a really big outlet for me.”

She also attended a peer support group for family members of people who have sustained brain injuries. “Been There, Done That” is led by Kim Ross, Family Member/Caregiver Peer Support Lead Liaison, whose son sustained a TBI several years ago.

“I really did find that powerful,” Heather reflects. “My husband's trajectory is so positive, and both of us have talked about perspective, right? Like he knows he probably shouldn't have survived. The reality is, most people getting hit by a car going fifty-plus miles an hour wouldn't. And so, taking that perspective and turning it into your power, and [recognizing] that we are further ahead of where anybody would have expected him to be at this point.”

In a couple of weeks, Jeff will graduate from CRU and continue therapy at Shepherd Pathways, where he and Heather will share an apartment. Heather is especially excited that she’ll have a real bed again. While she and Jeff are still on his recovery journey, Heather has some advice to share based on their experience.

“I think getting connected — we have connected with some of the people on our floor and their families. It’s just that shared struggle, that shared goal. There's something to be said about that. So don't isolate yourself. You know, we all want the same goal. We want the best life possible moving forward. And so that has been inspiring.

“I also think counting on your team and talking to them, and [knowing that] it's okay to ask questions.”

On the lighter side, Heather adds,

“Download Uber Eats…

“Eat the banana pudding in the cafeteria…"

And if you’re staying in the hospital room, “probably buy an air mattress.”

Written by Ruth Underwood
 

In the spring of 2024, Kevin was serving in the military, completing his residency in internal medicine at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. He woke up one Friday morning with a horrible headache. When he went to get a drink from the refrigerator, he realized his hand was numb and he couldn’t feel the cold temperature of the drink. A few days later, he saw a neurologist, who sent him to the emergency department. There, they found dozens of cavernomas — malformed blood vessels — in Kevin’s brain. Two of the vessels had bled, leading to the symptoms he was experiencing.

The neurosurgeon thought Kevin’s symptoms were not severe enough to warrant the risk of surgery, but over the following week, they worsened.

“I couldn't move my right side really, so I couldn't feed myself because I couldn't lift my right arm high enough — and I couldn't step into the shower because my right foot was dropping,” Kevin explains.

When it became clear that surgery was necessary, Kevin transferred to nearby Inova Fairfax Medical Campus, but even after surgery, his symptoms escalated.

“I just got worse … and then my left side went down, too, and I couldn't really move anything. It was essentially like a person with quadriplegia,” he says. “My family was there at the hospital at that time — my mom would hold my head up and my uncle would feed me.”

A second surgery resulted in marked improvement. Although he was weaker than usual, Kevin could move his left side right after surgery, and his right side was also slowly improving.

“The neurointensivist over in Virginia was like, ‘Hey, you're from Atlanta. Shepherd Center is one of the top places to go for rehab for brain injury, spinal cord injury, and stroke, and that's where she recommended.”

Kevin transferred to Shepherd Center’s inpatient Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program. When he arrived, he required assistance from two people to walk. He was immediately impressed with his care team at Shepherd.

“When I was first admitted, the nurses, the techs, and everybody made me feel welcome and like part of the family. And the therapists and the doctors, they took my opinions and what I wanted to get out of the treatment plan, and adapted physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech [therapy] to me, personally. So, I gave them my goals, and they were able to come up with a plan and execute, and they really pushed me, too. Their attitude during the whole process was phenomenal. They're all professional, nice, kind, and treated me and my family like their own family — and that's what I truly appreciate about Shepherd Center.”

After he graduated from the inpatient program, Kevin participated in the Day Program at Shepherd Pathways, a comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury.

Throughout his rehabilitation, he worked on improving his strength and mobility. His walking improved. Eventually, he started playing basketball with his therapist — practicing shooting and dribbling — and trying other pastimes he has always enjoyed, like hiking and pickleball.

But he knew he had another big challenge ahead — studying for his medical board examination.

“Pathways helped a lot with cognitive stuff, and it was really helpful with study techniques because before, I was just able to study like the whole day … for maybe 10-12 hours,” he recalls. “I had to learn how to cut down and maybe do 10 or 20 minutes at a time, take a break, then another 10 to 20 minutes because it was hard at first because mentally it was draining … but over time I was able to increase the length of time that I could study.”

After discharge from Shepherd, Kevin continued therapy closer to home. His doctors suspect the cavernomas are hereditary, so he’ll continue to make sure his blood pressure stays under control and be careful to avoid risk of head trauma. He has built up his strength and hopes to run the Atlanta Journal-Constitution Peachtree Road Race in July. He studied for the boards, and this summer, he moved to Augusta, Georgia, to serve on the Graduate Medical Education Staff in Internal Medicine at Dwight D. Eisenhower Army Medical Center.

Kevin recently found out he passed his boards, and he’s back to doing what he loves — seeing patients, with whom he can empathize on a new level.

“I knew what patients went through before, but now, being a patient myself, I understand that better — and not saying that I understand what the patient is specifically going through, but I have my own understanding of that process and what it feels like to be a patient,” he says.

And for those patients who ask about his scar, he has a story to share.

“I'm just blessed to be doing what I love again, which is taking care of patients and also just being alive and, you know, living life.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

On April 29, 2023, Avani was at dinner with her son, daughter, and in-laws, when she began to get dizzy and have slurred speech. She told her family the only way she could in the moment, a quick text message, that prompted them to take her to the emergency room, where she learned she had experienced two strokes. Afterward, an MRI showed she had a large aneurysm that needed to be fixed surgically.

“During surgery, blood clots formed and caused me to have multiple additional strokes that left me paralyzed. I couldn’t move or walk or project my voice,” Avani recalls.

Avani came to Shepherd Center’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program, where her team of inpatient therapists worked with her to improve her fine motor, gross motor, and cognitive skills.

“My therapists combined physical with cognitive therapies to test my body and my brain,” Avani explains. “They would have me walking and doing obstacle courses while counting or singing the ABCs to see if I could be occupied and multi-task.”

These therapies would help Avani with many goals, including returning to work as CFO of her home health business, Azalea Home Care, Inc.

"I'm the CFO of the company — billing and payroll. [I] have to be sharp with numbers. I didn't want to make mistakes when I went back.”

Near the end of her time in inpatient, Avani completed a neuropsychology evaluation to determine her capacity to return to work. It was advised she take a year off and practice work duties at home before going back full-time. For a woman who admittedly loves to stay busy, this was tough to hear, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

“I knew I needed to prioritize myself more and do the things I was told to do,” she says.

Avani completed inpatient therapy just in time to attend her son’s tenth birthday on Sept. 25. That following week, she began Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd’s outpatient and residential rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injuries and strokes.

“Pathways was amazing,” Avani says. “They connected with my individual needs and geared all my therapies to returning to my daily routine. They made me at ease.”

Among the life skills that Avani wanted to practice was bracelet threading to participate in an important tradition in her faith that also taps into her passion for art.

“In Hinduism, we celebrate brother/sister day, or Rakhi. Sisters tie bracelets on brothers or brother figures in their lives telling them that we are here to protect them and give them good blessings, and in return, they protect us back,” Avani explains. “You can buy them, but I think it’s special to make them for loved ones.”

While it takes her longer than it did pre-stroke, she has now returned to making up to 14 of these intricate, hand beaded bracelets each year.

Today, Avani continues to have regular check-ins with her doctors and psychologist at Shepherd Center. After taking a year off work, she is back to the job she loves.

“I love helping people, hence why I'm in the healthcare field. When I went to school, I studied pharmacy, but I didn't pursue it. Even though I do finance for a healthcare company now, I'm still helping people in my own way.”

And, she remains a committed mom to her two kids, who are in high school and middle school.

“I have an amazing support system,” Avani says. “My husband and family have been my rock throughout this. And I appreciate every single person at Shepherd. Shepherd will always be part of my life, and I’m grateful for that.”

By Damjana Alverson

“Heart disease is the leading cause of death among Black men, and 60% of Black men have some form of cardiovascular disease,” Jason says. “Running is a great way to improve heart health and develop camaraderie with fellow runners. My father never had anyone to run with who looked like him when he was growing up in Memphis, Tennessee. I wanted to create an organization where Black men could train together but also have an avenue to fellowship.” 

In 2013, Jason and Edward Walton started Black Men Run, a nonprofit that encourages health and wellness among Black men. 

“The camaraderie feels good. You can see it in the guys’ faces,” Jason says. “It just lights you up and keeps you motivated." 

In 2017, Jason had first-hand experience with the statistics he was so familiar with. While sitting at his office desk in Atlanta, he had a stroke and a ruptured brain aneurysm. Luckily, his co-workers acted quickly, and he was rushed to Grady Memorial Hospital. 

Jason came to Shepherd Center’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program in early 2018 as an inpatient and later graduated to the outpatient program, Shepherd Pathways. 

“My experience at Shepherd was amazing, and I still remember the faces of my care staff because they helped me walk, talk, and run again. What surprised me most was how accommodating and patient they were with me throughout my time there,” Jason says. “Running is my passion. Getting back to that was so important to me,” 

Since returning home, Jason has made steady strides toward his goals. While he still experiences some speech impediments and a stutter as a result of the stroke, he hasn’t let that stop him from spreading the message about Black Men Run, which has now grown to 10,000 members globally. 

Last year, he ran his first 10K race since his stroke, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution Peachtree Road Race, which happens to pass by Shepherd Center. 

“To run past Shepherd Center made the accomplishment more impactful for me and I was overwhelmed with emotion,” Jason says. 

Looking ahead, Jason hopes to run a half marathon in 2025 and continue to grow his nonprofit. He leaves this message to fellow stroke survivors: “Be a shining example in your community because the term ‘survivor’ is very significant. It's up to us to uphold that you can recover and never give up. 

“I hope to be an inspiration to others who might have fallen, thinking that they can never get back up again. They can think, ‘If Jason Russell can do it, so can I!’" 

By Damjana Alverson

This story first appeared in the special 50th anniversary issue of Spinal Column magazine.

“I was shocked they could get me to walk on my very first session,” she said. “I couldn’t even sit on my own without falling over.”

In June 2023, Clarissa had surgery to remove a massive benign brain tumor. When she awoke from surgery, she discovered her left side was paralyzed and without feeling, due to an acquired brain injury (ABI) from the surgery. Doctors were optimistic that she would regain function, but it would be a long journey.

Her mother researched rehabilitation facilities for her daughter and was impressed with Shepherd Center. Clarissa was admitted to the ICU on July 10, 2023.

Clarissa, an active single mother of two boys, landlord of two properties, and a business systems analyst, had one important goal: to regain her independence. She was also determined to walk upon discharge.    

She worked with therapists on balance, strength, fine motor skills, and functional activities. She learned how to transfer from her wheelchair to the bed, the toilet, and a car. She also worked with a speech therapist on short-term memory, divided attention, and executive functioning skills.

“Everyone at Shepherd Center was so positive and encouraging, the perfect environment for healing,” Clarissa says. “It was very motivating. I felt safe there. I was part of a community and everyone wanted me to succeed.”

And succeed she did. She gradually regained her strength and balance, and walked with the aid of a walker. Her memory improved. Clarissa was discharged from the ABI floor Aug. 31, and a week later, she walked independently into Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury.

She continued her rehabilitation at Pathways and completed a Shepherd Center driving program to get back on the road. She also worked with a career counselor at Pathways to help with the transition back to work.

“I am so grateful to Shepherd Center. It was the perfect choice,” Clarissa says. “They gave me my life back. To me, they are real-life superheroes.”

By Sara Baxter

The next day, Clara traveled cross-country to Shepherd Center and stayed throughout Erina’s inpatient rehabilitation and time at Shepherd Pathways. Throughout it all, Clara — along with her friend, Jan Beach, and Erina’s sister, Allison Kozel — lived in one of Shepherd Center’s family residences. 

“I don’t know what we would have done otherwise,” Clara says. “We couldn’t go back and forth to California, and we didn’t have family in Atlanta. We were very thankful for those accommodations.” 

The proximity allowed Clara to come over most mornings before Erina’s therapy began — to braid her daughter’s hair and get her ready for the day. COVID restrictions were still firmly in place in 2021, so the family spent lots of time outside enjoying the Anna and Hays Mershon Secret Garden. Clara and Jan both play the ukulele, and the two soon had a small group of players together for informal garden sessions — with other patients and families enjoying the music. 

Care-wise, Clara credits Erina’s team with helping the family learn how to best assist Erina before she re-learned to walk. But Clara also notes that what they learned went far beyond wheelchairs and transfers. 

“They were always thinking ahead about what would be helpful for her in the future,” Clara says. “Giving us tricks for compression garments, showing us how to use new equipment. Helping us navigate the insurance and social security side of things, too. They just helped us through the maze of it all. And there was a sweetness and a caring in everything. We felt it from everyone.” 

Erina was 44 when she had her stroke. A mother with two young children, the California native had been a longtime reporter and anchor on different TV stations. She settled in Savannah, where she began working at the prestigious Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). The year before her stroke, she had been named SCAD’s new executive director of inclusion. 

Now 48, Erina’s speech is still returning, but she’s already living a vibrant, independent life once again. She’s involved in her children’s lives, has taken up golf, loves Savannah Bananas baseball games, and attends the Savannah Film Festival. Erina has also participated in a pair of Adventure Skills Workshops through Shepherd Center, picking up a love of watersports. And she’s driving again with adaptive technology — including roundtrips between Savannah and Atlanta when she has follow-up appointments at Shepherd Center. 

As Clara puts it with a laugh: “Her determination is crazy — her tenacity. I would have been whining every day through rehab. But she was just relentless.” 

Last year, Clara and other family members celebrated Erina’s progress with a trip to Ireland, Clara’s homeland. They visited with family members in County Cork, took a ferry to France, and even visited the Louvre. 

“It’s amazing to see where she is now,” Clara says of her daughter. “When we first took Erina back to Savannah, I was always worried about her falling. She would tell me: ‘So what if I do? I’ll just get back up.’ That’s Erina. She’s going to make it work no matter what.” 

By Phillip Jordan

“We had had enough, and we made a promise to finally get into shape. And so, we contacted our cousin Jesus, who's a personal trainer, and got set up with a plan to finally be comfortable in our own skin,” Joshua explains.

But as the pair drove out of their neighborhood, a delivery truck ran into their car. Mike died in the crash, and Joshua sustained multiple injuries, including broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, damage to his diaphragm, and a traumatic brain injury (TBI), which affected his ability to move his left side.

Joshua spent the next three weeks at Ascension Sacred Heart Bay Hospital in Panama City. For the first two weeks, he used a ventilator to help him breathe and couldn’t offer much response to his parents or the medical staff.

Angie remembers that after the first week in the hospital, Joshua could gently squeeze her hand and give what looked like a thumbs-up. Joshua’s neurologist said they needed more of a response — something like a peace sign, he suggested. Eventually, Joshua did give them a sign — with his middle finger. It wasn’t a peace sign, but one that his mom and dad knew reflected his spit-fire personality.

With signs that Joshua might emerge from his disorder of consciousness, his parents began to consider where he should go for rehabilitation. Their options were a nearby facility or Shepherd Center.

“We had never heard of either one,” Angie recalls, “but the staff at Ascension was absolutely phenomenal, and they told us without a doubt that they would choose Shepherd — and we're so glad that we did.”

Milestones

When Joshua transferred to Shepherd on June 21, he could shake his head yes or no but still couldn’t open his eyes. He no longer needed the ventilator to breathe but still had a tracheostomy tube to help him transition to breathing independently. He was admitted to the Disorders of Consciousness Program, and his mom remembers a huge milestone Joshua reached soon after arriving.

“This kid could barely open his eyes, and within 24 hours, Shepherd had him saying ‘mom’ — and by June 24th, he was a chatterbox,” Angie recalls.

Joshua’s personality began to shine. When his cousin came to spend time with him, Joshua pulled a prank on her. He asked her to call his friend Clark. She searched his contacts on his phone, trying to find Clark’s number. He asked her again to please call his friend Clark. Clark Kent. She called Joshua’s parents, upset that she couldn’t find the number. Joshua then laughed, “Superman. Ha! Ha!”

He marked transfers in the Hoyer lift with an excited “Weeeeeeeee!”

“My nurses loved it,” Joshua recalls.

“He had everyone laughing with him,” his mom adds.

Joshua’s sense of humor — and sense of determination — helped him in his therapy sessions.

“If I couldn't do something, that just lit a fire under me. If I fell down, I wouldn't sit on the floor, I wouldn't be frustrated and give up. I would try just one more time,” he recalls.

He says the staff often had to remind him to slow down and not push TOO hard, but he appreciated how they tailored his therapy to his interests.

“They do a very good job of keeping therapy not only beneficial to you but also enjoyable,” Joshua explains. “One of my goals was to be able to play video games again, and they 100% had me playing video games frequently during therapy, which was a part of therapy that I genuinely loved because they found a way to make my work, my rehabilitation, fun for me specifically.”

While he was growing stronger, Joshua’s family stayed in Shepherd Center’s donor-funded family housing. He says having them nearby made a huge difference and that he “relied on them for the whole journey.”

Meanwhile, his family took advantage of Shepherd’s counseling and peer support program. Angie says she still takes comfort in things she learned from the peer support staff.

When Joshua graduated from the inpatient program, he continued rehabilitation at Shepherd Pathways, a comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury. By the time he left Shepherd, he had regained use of his left side. He was walking and only occasionally using a wheelchair for longer distances.

Looking to the Future

Now he’s back home, and his family has recently moved from Panama City to Tampa. He left his wheelchair in the garage and hasn’t used it since. He still goes to outpatient physical and speech therapy for what he calls “fine-tuning” for specific physical skills and to work on his memory.

He’s also back at the gym. He’s lifting weights and has lost 110 pounds. Over the summer, he won second place in the transformation division of a bodybuilding competition. He’s studying to be a certified personal trainer through the National Academy of Sports Medicine.

“I just genuinely enjoy the fitness world, so I want my job to be in it. I started my fitness journey as a way to finish my promise to Mike, but then I got healthy, and I was kind of at a crossroads. Why should I continue pushing myself? And then I found the answer to that is — I want to help as many people as I possibly can. I want to help people who are, like me, lost on how to lose weight. Being in that spot, it feels like quicksand, and I want to help all those people who are in my shoes.”

Now that the family is settled in Tampa, Joshua plans to focus on school. He’d like to get a degree related to nutrition to complement his personal training certification and enhance his ability to help others. As he reflects on his time at Shepherd, he says, “They gave me my life back.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

Written by Erin Kenney
 

Ole survived and, two weeks later, transferred to Shepherd Center’s Disorders of Consciousness Program, part of the Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program.

For his mother, Mihret Hamda, getting to Shepherd Center gave her hope.

“The minute we got there, therapists started working with him,” she recalls. “I had this tremendous sense of relief that things were progressing.” She was even more relieved when he emerged from his disorder of consciousness after seven long weeks.

“When I woke up, I remember being terrified,” Ole says. “I didn’t know where I was, and it was hard to fall asleep.” He couldn’t speak, breathe independently, walk, or do anything for himself. He spent three months at Shepherd Center relearning how to do everything before transferring to Shepherd Pathways — Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury  — to continue his rehabilitation.

Ole continued to improve and credits the “super chill” therapists at Shepherd Center and Pathways for his progress. “They made it fun so I could work hard to regain my cognitive and physical abilities,” he says. “They sometimes played The Weeknd, my favorite artist of all time, during my therapy sessions.”

Through it all, he was focused on one goal: As president of his senior class at Providence Christian Academy in Lilburn, Georgia, he wanted to give a speech at his graduation.

In May 2022, just eight months after the crash, Ole walked up to the stage and gave that graduation speech, and included a thank you to his therapists. He received a standing ovation.

Ole continued to work hard at therapy, returning to Shepherd Center several times to improve his function.

Two years later, Ole is a freshman at Georgia State University studying biomedical sciences. He hopes to one day design machines like the ones that helped him learn to walk again. His next goal is to move to on-campus housing and live on his own.

Believing that Ole's love for fitness and access to personal training played a crucial role in his recovery, Mihret founded Ole’s Angels, a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting adolescents and young adults with brain and spinal cord injuries. Ole's Angels provides access to physical training and nutrition consulting with the goal of enhancing the recovery and overall well-being of its participants.

Ole and his mother are grateful to Shepherd Center for his incredible recovery.

“God gave us so many miracles, and one of them was Shepherd Center,” says Mihret. “Thank you just doesn’t seem to be enough.”

Written by Sara Baxter 

“No kidding, I don’t remember pain or anything. I just remember seeing all my deceased loved ones,” Dusty says. “Truly, my Mamaw Mac came up to me and gave me one of those Little Debbie Zebra Cakes. Then my Granddaddy Bill, daggum cigarette in his mouth and a cup of coffee. And he leans down to me and just says, ‘Not yet.’”

And that’s all that Dusty, now 35, remembers from his accident or many of the days and weeks before and after it. Following numerous surgeries at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, the Stockbridge, Georgia, resident had a similarly surreal experience when he arrived at Shepherd Center in March 2020.

“I began to wake up right as the COVID lockdowns happened,” Dusty says. “My wife Julie and the rest of my family couldn’t be around because of the protocols. But I didn’t understand that. I’m seeing all these strange faces in masks and protective equipment. It felt like, ‘Is this purgatory?’”

Adding to the dreamlike vibes, one of Dusty’s ICU nurses was Michael Ellis, RN — a good friend and someone Dusty’s known since high school. Dusty credits Michael and Suzie Goggin, RN, CRRN, with helping him gradually understand his situation.

Dusty’s most significant challenge to a full recovery was the traumatic brain injury he’d sustained. At Shepherd Center, his care team helped Dusty re-learn how to talk, walk, eat — in short, everything. He also received vital care for his wounds. While many people with complex injuries and illnesses face an increased risk of obtaining wounds as a secondary complication, Dusty’s expert wound care team helped prevent further complications and additional surgeries that could have derailed his rehabilitation.

“Honestly, I felt like a child at first,” Dusty says. “The progress felt slow, but with everything they were doing, my brain eventually started kicking into gear.”

Dusty also completed outpatient therapy at Shepherd Pathways, and he utilized Shepherd’s Driving Evaluation and Rehabilitation Program to re-learn how to drive. Today, he’s once more taking his kids — Madison, 8, and Rhett, 5 — to and from school each day. Dusty’s also flying again with his pilot father-in-law. And the longtime Atlanta Braves fan is excited about a new baseball season.

“I could very easily be dead,” Dusty says. “I never forget that. So, I’m just happy every day to be alive and well.”

Written by Phillip Jordan

Unfortunately, those plans were derailed when a car she was riding in was t-boned by an impaired driver in March 2022 — just months before graduation. Maria sustained a broken hip, broken ribs, a fractured orbital bone, and a traumatic brain injury (TBI). She was in intensive care for two weeks at Memorial Health University Medical Center in Savannah, during which a family friend recommended that she consider Shepherd Center’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program.

She transferred to Shepherd Center, and her mother, who lives in Panama City, Panama, where Maria is from, accompanied her. Because of the TBI, Maria had difficulty processing what was happening. She thought she and her mother were in a hotel room. She tried to walk, not understanding that she had a broken hip.

She worked with physical, occupational, and speech therapists to regain strength, balance, memory, and executive functioning skills. After a month, Maria transitioned to Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury. She continued therapy with the goal of returning to school, graduating, and finding a job. As she improved, she was able to do her schoolwork from Pathways, and her graduation was delayed by only three months.

“I just wanted to get back to living my life,” Maria says. “And Shepherd Center gave me the building blocks to do that.”

After graduating from SCAD in August 2022, Maria followed through with her plan and moved to New York with a friend, eventually landing a six-month internship at a branding studio. She now lives in Brooklyn with a couple of roommates and navigates the subway system commuting to her job in Manhattan as a junior designer at a consulting firm.

Though she never lost sight of her plan, she credits Shepherd Center for helping her execute it.

“The staff at Shepherd Center helps you reach your goals realistically and practically,” Maria says. “They made me feel capable and fueled my ambition. None of them said, ‘You can’t do this.’ Instead, they said, ‘Let’s try this so you can do this.’”

 Written by Sara Baxter

On a rainy day in June of last year, Taylor’s car hydroplaned and hit a light post. Taylor sustained multiple injuries, including a traumatic brain injury (TBI). She was admitted to UF Health Shands Hospital in Gainesville, where she spent close to three weeks before transferring to the Disorders of Consciousness Program, which is part of Shepherd Center’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program.

Taylor does not remember much about the weeks she spent inpatient at Shepherd but says she does remember re-learning how to walk — and feeling that the staff really cared.

“I was so confused about why I was there, but I remember everyone was really sweet, and they provided me with more things than I even asked for,” Taylor recalls.

Tyler appreciated the continuity of care for Taylor.

“The nurses were amazing,” he says. “Having the same nurses was big for me because they knew Taylor, and they knew me, and we were able to build a relationship. They were invested — all the nurses in inpatient, all the therapists, you could tell they were passionate about it, and they cared.”

While Taylor worked on swallowing, talking, and walking, Tyler turned to peer support and family education programs to learn more about how to support Taylor and handle the uncertain path of her recovery.

One program in which he participated, called “Getting There,” was part of a brain injury patient caregiver research study. To assess the value of peer-led intervention, Shepherd's staff adapted a curriculum created at the Self-Management Resource Center in Stanford, California, to fit Shepherd’s acute rehabilitation setting. For “Getting There,” Tyler was assigned a peer mentor, Mariellen Jacobs, whose son had previously sustained a brain injury. 

“I looked forward to talking to Mariellen every week. That was the best therapy I could have asked for because I didn't know what was going to happen,” Tyler recalls. “Typically, when you go through an injury, say, a broken arm, there’s a standard recovery time. The brain is completely different, so hearing Mariellen’s experience and knowing that some of the things I was experiencing weren’t uncommon and that there was hope encouraged me.

Taylor and Tyler also relied on their faith and were glad to be able to attend services at Shepherd, led by Shepherd Center’s chaplains.

“Having a church service in-house, once Taylor was able to go, it was good getting back into the routine and getting the encouragement,” Tyler recalls.

The couple focused on Taylor’s recovery, and their parents pitched in, staying nearby and helping take care of the girls. After six weeks inpatient, Taylor graduated and transitioned to Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury. She and Tyler took advantage of Shepherd family housing for a month to ease the transition.

At Pathways, Taylor shared a goal with her therapist.

“I told her that I wanted to get to a point where I could play with my girls and carry them,” Taylor explains.

So, Taylor’s youngest joined a therapy session. 

“We played outside, and I practiced carrying her because I was so weak at the time — she was really heavy,” Taylor laughs.

As parts of Taylor’s memory return, she’s rebuilding and rediscovering her relationship with her daughters.  

“Before the accident, anything that they would do, I would do with them — we had an intense relationship. But for a few months after the accident, I did not remember our relationship, so I felt like I was building a new one. It wasn’t until February of this year that the memories of the relationship that I had with them started to come back.”

Taylor is spending time with her girls, embracing her baking hobby, and running. She has returned to teaching, and she’s continuing therapy close to home. She and Tyler are working with a team to start a nonprofit to provide support, including funding for transportation and housing, to families of people who sustain multiple traumatic injuries in the Gainesville area. One of their goals is to raise awareness and funds by hosting a 5K run. They hope to hold the first 5K in spring 2024.

“We want to use what we learned in the worst times of our lives to help other people while they're going through the worst times in their lives,” Tyler explains. “I'm still learning —learning how to adapt and how to overcome. It’s an ongoing process.”

Written by Ruth Underwood

Though Mo Maxwell, 19, has wanted to be a nurse since the fifth grade, her dream seemed out of reach in late 2021 when she started experiencing numbness in her arm. A few months later, it progressed to her back, and she developed a limp.

In June 2022, as her condition continued undiagnosed, Mo collapsed on her bathroom floor, became disoriented, and experienced paralysis. She was taken to Atrium Health Navicent in Macon, where she was diagnosed with acute disseminated encephalomyelitis, a neurological disease that causes swelling in the brain and spinal cord. 

The team there placed Mo in a medically induced coma for nine days, and she spent the next two weeks in intensive care. As her condition improved with medication and a plasma exchange process called plasmapheresis, Mo transferred to Atrium’s cardiac unit, where she stayed until she transferred to Shepherd Center.

On July 11, 2022, Mo arrived at Shepherd Center via ambulance. She could not walk, had trouble speaking and swallowing, and had issues with her memory and word recall.

“I couldn’t hold my head up,” she remembers. “It felt like a bowling ball.”

She was in Shepherd’s Comprehensive Rehabilitation Unit (CRU) and was also part of the Adolescent Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program while she was an inpatient. She spent a month and a half in therapy, gaining muscle strength and re-learning how to walk, talk, and feed herself. By the end of August, she had made great progress. Her paralysis was nearly gone, she was walking on her own, and her speech had improved. She could even dance. In fact, as she continued her rehabilitation at Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury, she choreographed a dance and got her therapy team to join in.

In January 2023, Mo achieved a major milestone when she started college at Georgia State University. Today, she is in her second semester of college, lives independently, and can drive. She credits Shepherd Center for where she is now.

“It’s such an amazing place,” she says. “The people there are so caring, and they became like a family. I am so grateful to all the therapists for how far I’ve come with their help.”

Written by Sara Baxter

I’ve worked at Shepherd for almost four years. As a recreation therapist at Shepherd Pathways,

I work with patients with brain injuries. I assess the level of assistance each person will need to be engaged in the community safely. So, if the person is ambulating, we walk to the park or the grocery store. Do they know to hit the button at the crosswalk? Do they know to look both ways? If we go somewhere that requires a van trip and I give them directions, can they get me back to our starting point? If they can, great; if they can’t, that’s okay too. That lets me know the level of assistance or supervision they need to be safe. I give them every opportunity to do as much as they can on their own. The goal is for that person to be as independent as possible.

My secondary role is supporting the other therapists in developing skills that the person needs to get back to their life. And then probably what I enjoy the most is the opportunities we have to get outside the walls and engage the larger community with events like Adventure Skills Workshop (ASW) and our health and wellness clinics.  

How did you hear about Shepherd Center, and what made you want to work here?

My uncle has polio, and he played basketball and tennis on the Shepherd teams, so my dad and I used to come to watch him play. I also had a cousin who was a patient in the MS Institute. So, our family has a long-running history with Shepherd.

Do you remember your first day at Shepherd?

I still remember the first day on the floor. It was exciting. You have all these patients in the therapy gym, all these families, and the energy was palpable. You could feel it. That was really cool.

What do you find most fulfilling about your job?

The relationships. It's the best part that nobody teaches you in school. We learn all of the techniques, theories, and applied sciences, and we need them, but this person is not a theory. This is a person with needs and goals, and they're dealing with really tough things. And I’ve realized that before I get to anything therapy-related, I need this person to trust me. So, I put a lot of my focus on building relationships. So that's my favorite part — what I call forging my way into the family. I want them to see me as somebody who really cares about them first, and then I think the therapy part comes a lot easier.

The team dynamic is great. The other rec therapists, the other therapists that I'm on a treatment team with, are just phenomenal, and this job would be almost impossible without that group because so much of what I can incorporate into therapy is because I have three other experts in the room with me. I can talk things through with them, take new ideas back to the patient in the next session, and know that we will be doing something to help them succeed.

What are some of your best days at work?

When we get an email or phone call from a family member telling us how well their loved one is doing. When they leave us, they're still early in the journey, so the best days are when we get an update, or I run into a former patient somewhere, and the last time I saw them, they couldn’t talk, and now we're having a full conversation. Also, what I might think is a great day for one of our patients because we really pushed them to another level, and it will benefit them, may have frustrated them at the same time. But I don't see that as a bad day; I see that as growth!  It's a matter of perspective. A good day may not mean everything went the way we wanted it to — a good day may mean we made it through, even if it was a tough session.

How does your role affect patients and their families?

I hope that they see the benefits of engaging in recreation therapy. We want to promote independence, but it can also be an opportunity to introduce people to something new.

And I hope those new activities add to their quality of life. I push our health and wellness initiatives because I think it's beneficial and helps people engage. There are so many things you can do, and having an injury or disability is not a limiting factor. I try to communicate that and that yes, life will probably look a little different, but different doesn't mean worse —different just means different — and we can do different better.

Education

• Morris Brown College, Bachelor’s degree in Recreation Therapy  

Fun Facts

• Detrick loves spending time with his daughters and attending all their sporting events.
• He loves sports and played baseball and football in college.  
• Detrick also played violin and bass in high school.
• Detrick is the handler for Shepherd Center’s facility dog, Poet.

Interview by Ruth Underwood

When they married in 2020, the pandemic wiped out their honeymoon plans to ski the mountains of Iceland’s Tröllaskagi Peninsula. Two years later, the couple — then 22 and living in Lynchburg, Virginia — finally made it to Iceland. When they arrived on the evening of March 16, 2022, the future seemed as limitless as the frozen fjords and snow-capped peaks that dominated the majestic landscape around them.  

“Neither of us expected life was about to change so drastically, so quickly,” Daniel says.

Less than 12 hours later, while on a solo morning hike, Daniel’s skis lost traction on a steep, glassy slope. He skidded, then plunged more than 30 meters down a deep ice chute. The fall resulted in a complete T-3-to-T-4 spinal cord injury, along with multiple traumas.

By the time members of a nearly 100-person rescue team located him six hours later, Daniel had gone into cardiac arrest and experienced a stroke caused by hypothermia and internal bleeding. He’d also sustained a traumatic brain injury due to the stroke, and his prolonged hypothermia would eventually require the amputation of his legs, just above the knees.

“What I remember most is believing wholeheartedly that I was going to die,” Daniel says. “The feeling that it was over. That feeling has stuck with me ever since the injury. It’s hard at times. I’ve gone through depression. I still have to consciously resist that urge to think that life is over for me and instead focus on new possibilities. The good things in my life. The things that I can do.”

Daniel credits Shepherd Center with helping him reorient his thinking.

“I made big strides in occupational, physical, and speech therapy there,” Daniel says. “But what impressed me was they went above and beyond in so many ways emotionally. Everyone at Shepherd Center just cared so intensely and spent the time with me that I needed.”

“Everybody was super positive at a time when it’s so easy to be super negative,” Sierra explains.

Daniel spent three months in Shepherd Center’s inpatient Comprehensive  Rehabilitation Unit, learning adaptations to regain physical independence. He followed that up with two pivotal months at Shepherd Pathways, a comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injuries.

Daniel’s stroke had resulted in severe aphasia, affecting his ability to express and understand both written and spoken language. Those would be serious concerns for anyone, but especially for someone who loved reading and writing and had just completed a year of law school.

Daniel credits the cognitive improvements he made at Pathways for pushing him to where he is today. He can easily engage in conversation now, and his reading is up to a fifth-grade level. New career avenues open each day.

In the meantime, Daniel and Sierra are building their life together anew. The couple has moved back to their hometown of Albuquerque, New Mexico, where they’re looking at houses. They’re talking about kids. And they’re figuring out how to get back into camping and other outdoor adventures — including a return trip to Iceland to replace old memories with brighter ones.

Above all, they’re thankful for this second chance to be newlyweds.

“When we got home from Iceland, a lot of people encouraged us to do Danny’s rehabilitation somewhere close to where we were living in Virginia, or back home in New Mexico,” Sierra says. “But we wanted to get the best care possible, no matter where that took us. We’re so grateful that the opportunity opened up, and we chose to make the journey to Shepherd Center. It was the home away from home that we needed.”

Written by Phillip Jordan

Pursuing Possible with Shepherd Center

To support patient stories like this, please consider contributing to Shepherd Center's Pursuing Possible campaign. Click here to learn more.
 

On the morning of July 31, 2021, John woke up ready to train. He put on his bike shoes and made his way out on the road. While on his ride, John’s life changed forever. He was injured by a hit-and-run driver, sustaining a shattered C-1 vertebra, a broken C-2 vertebra, and a traumatic brain injury.  

“I don’t remember the exact details, but I planned for a two to three-hour bike ride, and it turned into this life-changing event,” John explains.

John was admitted to Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, where he spent two weeks. While at Grady, he had surgery to fuse his C-2 vertebra to the base of his skull. From there, John transferred to Shepherd Center, where he began therapy with his team. Due to his brain injury, John says he does not remember the first six or seven weeks after his injury.

“One of my first vivid memories was hearing the therapists pushing my wheelchair say that we were turning to the left. So, I would start singing, ‘To the left, to the left,’” John laughs.

With his sense of humor and his athletic drive intact, John began to train with this care team, this time from a new starting line. After seven weeks in Shepherd Center as an inpatient in the Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program, he continued his rehabilitation with five weeks at Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury. Slowly, he began to swim, walk, and run again.  

“John’s perseverance and determination are remarkable,” says Lydia Schubert, John’s recreational therapist at Shepherd Center. “He got in the pool his last week on inpatient at Shepherd Center and just a few months later he was back to swimming with his master's team. He hasn’t let anything stop him; he is truly inspiring.”

In July of 2022, almost a year after his injury, John ran The Atlanta Journal-Constitution Peachtree Road Race in Atlanta, which led him right past Shepherd Center on Peachtree Road, getting back into the swing of racing. He continues to improve, working with his physical therapists to pursue more races in the future.

“I’ve run a couple of 5Ks and 10Ks since then. I even swam in a swim meet, which was fun to get up and race in the water again,” he says. “Right now, I’m shifting my activity levels a bit because of some tightness in my neck, but I’m hoping in the future to do some more sprint-style triathlons.”

While he says he only vividly remembers the last few weeks at Shepherd Center, he does remember his therapists, Shepherd staff, and all the extraordinary work they put in together.

“I give a lot of credit to the therapists, doctors, and to everybody at Shepherd Center. They pushed me in the right direction, and I think the world of them.”

Written by Lindsey Rieben

Pursuing Possible with Shepherd Center

To support patient stories like this, please consider contributing to Shepherd Center's Pursuing Possible campaign. Click here to learn more.

Kenny is a veteran – he served four years in the U.S. Army, completing tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. Richard is an OB-GYN – throughout his career, he has delivered thousands of babies. Kenny is a native Atlantan, and Richard, 35 years Kenny’s senior, has lived in Atlanta for more than four decades.

In December 2021, Kenny was on the job as a sanitation worker, riding on the back of a garbage truck, when another truck hit him, pinning him between the two vehicles. Both of his femurs and pelvis were broken, and he sustained a traumatic brain injury (TBI).

A couple of weeks later, in January 2022, Richard woke up and couldn’t move his arm. When he got up to walk to the bathroom and lost his balance along the way, he realized he was experiencing a stroke.

Both men were admitted to Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, where they were in the ICU at the same time, and both later transferred to Shepherd Center’s Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program. But it wasn’t until their time at Shepherd Pathways, Shepherd Center’s comprehensive outpatient rehabilitation program for people recovering from brain injury, that their friendship grew.

Kenny, who affectionately calls Richard “Doc,” recalls bonding with Richard over ice cream, one of Kenny’s favorite treats. Apparently, the pair ate LOTS of ice cream at Spring Creek House, the residential unit at Pathways.

“I guess the staff got annoyed because while we were there, we ate all the ice cream,” Kenny jokes.

Kenny even convinced his therapist to make a trip to an ice cream shop during therapy — and, of course, he convinced Richard and his therapist to come along.

Kenny describes the way he and Richard would wrap up their therapy sessions. “At the end of the day, we always went outside and tried to race our wheelchairs — it's kind of a double trouble story,” he explains.

“We had fun together,” Richard recalls. “In our wheelchairs, we would push each other and help each other out, or race and make a mess of everything. We just tried to have a good time laughing.”

Richard and Kenny would spend the evenings together at Spring Creek House. “He became part of my family. He would sit and eat dinner with my family when they would visit us each night,” Richard explains.

Along with the fun, Kenny and Richard supported each other as they made great strides at Shepherd. Richard had weakness in his left side and problems with his vision after his stroke. In therapy, he worked on walking, regaining strength in his left arm, and correcting his vision. Now, he’s participating in Beyond Therapy® at Shepherd Center. After his injury, Kenny also worked on walking, and although he still uses his wheelchair sometimes, he can now walk with a cane.

While they joke about their shenanigans, Kenny and Richard praise each other’s progress and express a deep admiration for one another.

“Kenny is just a compassionate, caring, kind man, and I have so much respect for what he's accomplished,” Richard says. "He served in Fallujah and Afghanistan. That is so amazing to me. And to have watched him make progress and be able to walk again — it was his drive and desire that helped him accomplish so much. His life experiences are so different from mine. But we really connect.”

And according to Kenny, the feeling is mutual. “Doc's great to be around and to talk to. He’s an all-around stand-up guy,” Kenny explains. “I’m quiet with everybody else, but I feel comfortable talking to him. He helped me keep my head up when I was down in the hospital. When I was depressed, talking to him and eating ice cream with him was perfect for me.”

Kenny and Richard continue to root for each other and celebrate one another’s progress. They look forward to more high jinks — and ice cream — as they continue their rehabilitation.

Written by Ruth Underwood

Pursuing Possible with Shepherd Center

To support patient stories like this, please consider contributing to Shepherd Center's Pursuing Possible campaign. Click here to learn more.

After his stroke, Phillip spent seven weeks in the Neuroscience Intensive Care Unit at the University of Cincinnati Medical Center, where he was treated for numerous complications, including pneumonia. Phillip then transferred to a long-term acute care center to begin being weaned from his ventilator. When the facility was ready to discharge him a month later, he was still unconscious and using a ventilator to breathe.

“People from two different angles were telling me he needs to get to Shepherd,” Julie says. “Our family from one side and a friend who is a physical therapist on the other.”

On December 23, 2020, Phillip flew to Atlanta in an air ambulance while Julie drove from Cincinnati. Because of precautions during the Covid-19 pandemic, Julie stayed in the room with Phillip for the 73 days he was an inpatient. During that time, he was weaned from his ventilator and emerged from his disorder of consciousness.

While therapists worked with Phillip, Julie was busy gathering information about Phillip’s condition and available resources.  

“I took advantage of every course Shepherd had, every family support group, every brain injury education class, everything,” she says.  “I thought, ‘Just give me the information because otherwise, how are we going to make decisions down the road?’ The education at Shepherd has been invaluable.”

Phillip completed the inpatient Brain Injury Rehabilitation Program and Pathways, Shepherd Center’s outpatient program for people recovering from brain injuries. He and Julie returned to Cincinnati in May 2021, but Phillip experienced a setback — he developed hydrocephalus and needed a shunt to drain excess fluid from his brain. The silver lining — insurance allowed Phillip to return to Shepherd Center for more therapy.

This time, while he was an inpatient, Phillip and his care team worked on improving his swallowing and walking, and Phillip began to talk some.

“I started functioning again as a human being,” he says.

Phillip says that his memories began again during his second time at Pathways.

“I started a second life. That's when I have a memory that is relatively coherent,” he explains.

He also started walking on his own and got his feeding tube removed.

The stroke resulted in aphasia, which affects Phillip’s ability to find the right words to express his thoughts but does not affect his intelligence. He shared how much he has felt Julie’s love and support throughout his recovery.

“I didn't really know what was wrong with me. I just knew I had some serious problems, and I was going through the motions that Julie set in place because I knew I loved her, and I assumed she loved me because there was no way anybody could be doing everything she was doing for me unless she loved me,” he explains.

Phillip says aphasia is challenging, not only because of the frustration of trying to communicate but also dealing with the way people react.

“I read people too much — I can see when people are staring at me oddly, and that throws me,” he explains.

That makes him even more appreciative of his close group of loving and supportive friends.

“I'm surrounded by a small group of people who are my best friends in the world.”

For Julie, in addition to support from friends and family, Shepherd's family peer support groups were crucial, so now she volunteers her time to help others.

“I got so much out of it, particularly early on; anything I can do to share or offer advice or support to anybody going through this, I am more than happy to do that,” she explains.

Phillip’s recovery continues – with ups and downs. One big hurdle was dealing with fatigue and brain fog, a side effect of one of his medications. But Phillip is working hard to establish new connections in his brain, while Julie connects him with all the resources she can find.

Phillip has participated in intensive rehabilitation to work on his communication skills. He also follows a home exercise program and uses apps his speech therapist recommended. He has plans for his next woodworking projects, and he and Julie are even trying hiking again. 

“I'm working every day to get it a little bit better,” he says.

Written by Ruth Underwood

Pursuing Possible with Shepherd Center

To support patient stories like this, please consider contributing to Shepherd Center's Pursuing Possible campaign. Click here to learn more.

I’ve worked at Shepherd Center for four years. I’m a physical therapist in the Acquired Brain Injury (ABI) Day Program at Shepherd Pathways.

Q: How did you know you wanted to be a physical therapist?

 I knew I wanted to go into healthcare because of my parents. They immigrated from the Philippines when they were recruited to be nurses in the United States. When I was growing up in New Jersey, if my parents couldn’t find a babysitter, they would bring me to the hospital with them. I saw how they got to take care of their patients, the impact that they were making on the patients and their families, and how they were helping people.

Physical therapy was a good fit because I'm active and like playing sports. As a physical therapist, I spend a lot of time with patients and families, helping them get back to hobbies or activities that are important and meaningful to them.

Q: How do you think your role impacts patients and families?

I get to spend a lot of time with patients and their family members. I know that they are so appreciative of our help and support during one of the hardest times in their lives. But they teach us a lot, too, about patience and resilience. I look up to a lot of them for how they cope with these hard times — they're really role models.

Q: What do you love most about your job?

 I love helping our clients get back to doing the things that are important to them — whether it's something as simple as helping them go to the bathroom on their own or transferring out of the bed to the wheelchair — or getting back to golf, getting back to dancing. I love giving them the building blocks to help them reach these meaningful goals.

Interesting Facts

Education

University of Florida 

• Bachelor of Science, Applied Physiology and Kinesiology with a minor in Health Science 
• Doctor of Physical Therapy 

Fun Facts

• Chris’s wife is also a physical therapist.
• Clients and co-workers at Pathways know Chris by his love of all things with leopard or cheetah print – from his shoes to his coffee mug to his lunch box.
• He loves beach volleyball and recently took up golf.
• Chris enjoys singing and dancing and has even performed for Shepherd Pathways patients. He does a mean Bruno Mars impersonation!

Thank you to the Atlanta Braves for providing tickets to their May 11 game for Shepherd Pathways patient Weston Mazey, 14, of Morgantown, West Virginia, and his mom, along with another ABI outpatient and family member. Weston is making a comeback from a traumatic brain injury he sustained in a baseball practice on March 9, 2021.

“Weston is hitting all of his benchmarks,” says his mother, Amanda Mazey. “If you didn’t know he had a TBI, you wouldn’t know it when you talk to him. We’ve been going to a nearby park in Atlanta and playing ball every day after his rehabilitation.”

She adds: “Everyone here has been so wonderful to us. They have embraced us. And Weston has never complained. He’s done all his therapists have asked him to do. He’s a self-motivated kid…. We’re expecting a full recovery. He will be back to playing baseball again soon.”

Recognizing the needs of other patients and families going through traumatic brain injury, the Mazeys have started a campaign to raise $100,000, which they will split between WVU Medicine Children’s Hospital and Shepherd Center. To date, they have raised more than $72,000 and hope to meet their goal by May 30. You can learn more and give online at https://teamwammer.com/.

“Team Wammer” is also holding a free father/son baseball camp on June 19 led by Weston’s father, Randy Mazey, who is the head baseball coach at West Virginia University. You can register for the event at https://teamwammer.com/.

But on June 14, 2014, Chris had a stroke. In the days following, while still in the hospital, he would think frequently about those lawn games. “You have those questions in your head,” he says. “Will I ever be able to play catch with my son again? Will I be able to run around and chase my daughter?”

Those questions began to be answered as soon as Chris entered the post-acute stroke program at Shepherd Center’s Shepherd Pathways in Decatur, Ga., in late July. “It was an environment of: ‘Let’s do this. It’s time to get to work,’” he says. “There was no time to be negative because the staff was willing to push me as far as I would let them.”

Shepherd Center’s expertise in stroke rehabilitation for younger adults also provided newfound perspective to Chris. “I thought I was far too young to have a stroke, that I was a rarity,” he says. “But I realized there are more people going through this than I thought. It helped to see people my age pushing themselves. They became friends to lean on when I was having a tough time with something.”

When Chris began his stroke rehabilitation, he was almost exclusively in a wheelchair. By his last day, three months later, Chris could walk long distances with only a single-point cane. And the physical recovery was only part of the process. Occupational, recreational and speech therapists helped Chris quickly get back to his career as a computer programmer and software developer.

Through Shepherd Center’s vocational services program, Chris collaborated with a vocational counselor, passed neuropsychological tests, and re-acclimated to working in distraction-filled environments by volunteering with MedShare – one of Shepherd Center’s partner organizations. Chris helped sort excess medical equipment for use by medical missions, churches and other nonprofits.

By his sixth week at Shepherd Pathways, he was able to begin a part-time transition to his previous job. Chris gradually built up his endurance and will be back working full-time in November. He will soon undergo a driving evaluation, as well, which he expects to enable him to drive again and fully reclaim his independence.

Chris credits his rapid progress to a commitment to staying positive and to the individualized care he received at Shepherd Pathways.

“From the front desk to the case managers to the doctors, my favorite thing about this place is that they understand that everyone is different,” he says. “They get to know you as an individual and come up with specific ways to challenge you. A lot of people pushed me to come here, and now I know why. I’d never be this far along, so quickly, without them.”

Kathie Kurtz, Chris’ case manager, says the benefits of such dedicated care are still greatly dependent on each individual’s commitment to the process. “From the beginning, it was clear in Chris’ case that he had a strong desire to achieve his goals of returning to work and being the father and husband he had always been,” Kurtz says. “As a case manager, I can also attest to the importance of strong support systems in rehabilitation outcomes. And Chris has an incredible circle of support.”

While he isn’t running full-speed around the yard with his kids quite yet, Chris knows he’s getting close. And his children (Parker, 5, and Catherine, 4) are helping “motivate” him to get there.

“Sometimes, my kids will grab my cane and tell me to come get it,” Chris says with a laugh. “That’s one way to get me walking without assistance! Some days they’re my own physical and occupational therapists.”

Written by Phillip Jordan
Photos by Gary Meek