Our son was like any other pre-teenager with most of his life made up of family, school with heaps of fun in the mix.
He did train at the karate I teach at and was super fast with great reactions.
He liked tinkering with his bike and was always interested in what I was doing.
One Saturday morning Phillip decided to go to his mate Glens house.
The two of them decided to go to Croydon (about 5kms away) but Phillip insisted in coming back to our house to ask our permission.
The date was 28th June 1986, Phillip was 14.
Glen was riding a pushbike towing Phillip who was on a skateboard (both of them were not wearing helmets they were not compulsory at this stage).
They came along Sheffield Road towards our home but didn't slow down for the main crossing of the Tourist Road.
The were both hit by a car and were thrown through the air (Phillip was thrown about 15 metres).
It was about 11am when we had a knock on the door.
We were told there had been two boys hit up at the corner.
I didn't think it was Phillip because he was at Glens (so I thought), But nonetheless I sprinted up to the corner to help and to my dismay saw it was my son Phillip.
There weren't too many people around so I immediately tried to find his pulse without any success (at this stage I was starting to shake making it almost impossible to find a pulse).
I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder; it was a friend of ours, John who had arrived with the local fire brigade.
He then took over and I tried to comfort Helen.
Within minutes the ambulance was there and both boys were whisked away to Maroondah hospital (outer eastern suburb of Melbourne).
Both boys were unconsciousness with various other injuries, we were then told one of them was in a very serious condition and was being transferred to the Royal Children's Hospital (Melbourne).
Helen and I followed the ambulance to the hospital where the battle for his life would really start.
At this stage we knew he had been hit in the head.
His leg was broken in three places and he had deep cuts on his chest were the headlight had hit him.
Helen and I waited in the emergency department's waiting room for over an hour until we could see him.
When we finally got to see him we were both shattered.
At this stage all we wanted was answers and all we got (and rightfully so) was "its early days yet".
This continued for days and the days turned into weeks.
Family and friends rallied around.
Phillip remained in a coma with things not changing until about the three week mark when Phillip developed double pneumonia and soon after that and during the night Phillip had an epileptic fit.
Things seemed to be getting a lot worse.
Helen and I did our best to stay positive.
Between 11pm and 2am I would meditate in the eerie quietness of the hospital ward, I even practised my karate moves in an empty room not far from Phillip in those quiet hours.
We stayed by his bedside most of the time just talking and reading to him, but at this stage I decided to go back to work and just go in at night time (my partner Charlie had been taking the full load while this was all happening).
Helen and I would pass on the freeway, she would be coming home I would be going to the hospital.
About 7 weeks after the accident I read about how they were getting patients out of comas in America by stimulating them.
This made sense so I started to work with Phillip, pushing, pulling, rolling him around; we even started bringing him home for the weekends.
We had a battle on our hands as this was not the done thing at that time (Helen at one time even had to carry him out to the car by herself as she couldn't get help).
One of the first times Phillip showed any external signs of consciousness was when I put a small amount of ice cream on his tongue, and he responded by putting his tongue out for more.
Every night I would tease him with different sweets and he would respond more and more.
I finally told the nurses what I was doing and they said they would check to make sure it wasn't going into his lungs, (oops hadn't thought of that).
One night I was sitting next to Phillip half asleep when I heard sobbing.
I looked and a couple of wards down a young mum was crying over her badly injured son.
I knew there was no one else around so I went to her and not knowing what to say, just put my arms around her and held her for quite some time.
After a while we started to talk and I took her out to the kitchen for a coffee.
The next day she stopped me in the hallway and introduced me to her husband as her guardian angel, what a reward for such a small act.
Just shows, be there for you friends in times of trouble, the worst that could happen is that they will say to go away.
"I didn't want to worry you" is just a copout.
By this time he had been transferred to a new hospital for rehabilitation.
Our confidence grew as we saw his improvement every time he came home, but his improvement would stagnate until we picked him up to come home again.
Helen was confronted by nursing staff at this hospital who tried to convince her to leave him there the whole time.
At about this time Phillip was starting to say a few words albeit very slowly and every weekend as we prepared to take him back, he would beg us to stay at home.
I told Phillip when he could go to the toilet by himself (at home) we would bring him home.
The next time he was home he rolled and fell out of bed and with his only good arm dragged himself to the toilet (but couldn't lift himself up), that was when we decided to bring him home full time.
The struggle had just started.
He had a wheel chair, couldn't talk (just a moaning sound), could not go to the toilet by himself and had to be fed.
Also the Epileptic fits were getting worse.
We received some great advice from a gentleman by the name of Ian Hunter who was into a new approach for acquired brain injuries.
One of the things he said was not to try and get him to walk but to get him to crawl first.
So Phillip and I spent hours crawling around the back yard with me cajoling him pushing him over and generally making him really work.
Everyday we would work him with exercises.
At this stage Phillip was talking but very slowly, his feet were pointed straight out and one arm was permanently bent.
Phillip had lost heaps of weight and made a greyhound look obese.
We stepped up his stimulation taking the family camping and other outings.
He was slowly showing signs of improvement.
Our girls unbeknown to us would take him on daytrips to Kilsyth shopping centre on the bus (about 5kms away) when we thought they were taking him for a short walk.
He loved the beach and was desperate to sail, so we took him down to Rye (on the south coast of Victoria) and pushed his wheelchair off the sandbars into the sea.
Well it's sought of sailing.
When we returned the wheelchair, they said they had never seen one rust up so quickly, funny that.
The epileptic fits were a constant worry and seemed to be happening without any warning so Phillip could not sit down or make him safe.
During one severe seizure Phillip collapsed in the kitchen and his arm fell behind the fridge with his arm landing on the compressor.
Our youngest daughter was studying when she heard our German shepherd smashing at the front door.
She came out to investigate and found Phillip.
The dog had perceived the danger and let her know, Phillips arm would have slowly cooked and been severely damaged if he was left in that position.
Our local doctor finally found a cocktail of drugs which has stopped the epilepsy.
The main ingredient in Phillips rehabilitation was his own positive thinking and determination.
Phillip lives up the back of our block in a brand new unit with all the comforts he requires.
His favourite pastime is going out every Saturday night dancing.
He has also bought himself an electric powered bike which gives him great freedom.
As parents we would have liked a perfect outcome but are more than grateful to see Phillip living a happy life and almost independent of us.
P.
S.
- He does all his own cooking, cleaning, buys all his own clothes etc.
Phillip can now sail normal sailboats very competently by himself and rides his bike everywhere.