As today marks the two year anniversary of his accident, Kevin would like to express his gratitude towards his friends, family and the doctors at Craig Hospital. However, before we get into that I would like to share a few words, ladies first after all.

Calling this an anniversary of an accident that almost killed my dad seems silly to me in an odd sort of way. Yes, each year this day will bring up hard memories and I’ll always wish deep down that it never happened, but I’d like to also bring a sense of joy and thankfulness when this day inevitably comes around each year. It will without a doubt never be an easy day, and while we should all allow ourselves to grieve and feel sad, we should limit the time of pondering the  “what-ifs”, “if only the timing was off by just a few seconds, “I feel bad for hm”, or “Why him?” because those negative thoughts do no good. So, while I let myself have my brief period of grieving, I stop and think of the positives and how incredibly lucky and fortunate my family is. We still have a dad. A dad that has full mental capacity, has re-learned how to walk, has regained movement, though limited, and has regained feeling in all of his extremities after we were told he may never walk again. Daily life still has its challenges for him and that will never go away, but if any of you know my dad, this won’t ever get in the way of him continuously trying to regain strength and lose his scary level of determination and competitiveness. To be honest, we all kind of knew that in the beginning. You truly just can’t stop him. I like to let this be a reminder each year of not only how fortunate we are to have him in our lives, but also a reminder of his motivation, determination and positive outlook while not only at Craig, but each and every single day.

Now dad, getting the call from mom this day two years ago felt like getting punched in the stomach and my reaction put me into total shock. After all, I had just sat down to watch a CU Buffs game and was excited to watch them win. Little did I know, all five of our lives were instantly about to change and take on a different path. Not a bad one, but a different one. To be quite frank, I was thrilled you had decided to be flown out from CA to CO to get the best care at Craig and the best part was that you were just a 15 minute drive away. I dropped everything to be there almost daily and though we had our good days and our bad days together, those visits and outings with you will forever remain some of my favorite memories and I am so grateful I was given that time to bond with you. And more than that, I’m the luckiest to be able to say that there are more memories and experiences I’ll get to share with you in the future. Remember, nothing in our lives was ruined, life just had its own plan for us that took us in a different direct. We’re Canty’s and we adapt accordingly.

Ok, Kev’s turn:

Today marks the two year anniversary of my accident.  It is bittersweet in many respects, but I have very much to be thankful for.  In the past two years I have regained my ability to walk and much use of my arms and hands.  My below injury line sensory and motor functions are permanently compromised but not completely.  My functional level is ASIA “D” where ASIA “E” is deemed normal. Importantly, my urinary and bowel signaling is reduced (having led to some difficult moments in the past 18 months…) I’ve learned to deal with it and the great news is I’m fully self-functional - I need no nursing care nor am I a burden on Susan.

Some realities:

1.      There is chronic pain in my hands, arms, shoulders, and legs. It comes in two forms, neuropathy with sharp pains especially in lower extremities and, oddly, extremely cold hands periodically. Secondly, I experience constant muscle contraction.  This latter effect is a manifestation of the damage to the spinal cord where the brain cannot fully regulate muscle tension.  The spinal cord intreats this as distress and signals muscles to contract into protect mode.  This is VERY tiring, sometimes painful and often disruptive.  I counter with meds, but they have side effects.   If I miss my meds, I find the contracture and tightness almost unbearable, so I live with the downside.

2.      I never want to quit trying to achieve gains, so I battle it out.  As a result, I’ve fallen a few times (stitches in my forehead, a broken kneecap and other more minor abrasions and bruises.   I simply need to be more careful in my activities of daily living (ADL’s as we in the business call them) since my stumble recovery capability has diminished considerably after the injury.

3.     I have a lot more appreciation for the difficulties encountered by handicapped people in our country.  Despite the great achievements over the past 40 years there is much more to do.  I won’t belabor it here - just trust me on this one.

The path ahead:

1.      I remain ever grateful to my family, friends and work associates who have supported me so well.  I could be uncomfortable to be around me I suppose.  It is nice to be as normal as possible and I hope I am not any sort of burden upon them.

2.      I’m still gaining.  Stem cell work is likely not an option for me and the studies are inconclusive as well.   My mind and body can do far more to reconstruct me than any doctor or treatment now.  My Surgeons, Psychiatrist (never thought I’d ever need one :)) OT’s, and PT’s have set me up well and continue to monitor me.  Though gains are slower I keep plugging.

3.      I can have fun.  I can play nine holes of golf.  I even have a special driver that can literally fire a ball 200 yards (thanks, Allie).  My short game (50 yards and in) is okay so this allows me to play with my pals.  I like to travel so Susan and I look forward to the world opening up. 

4.    I get frustrated and sometimes a bit depressed, but fundamentally, I’m happy and positive.  I feel blessed for this.   My life has been altered but not ruined.   I can still make a difference in life, especially for my family.  For this I am extremely grateful.

Allie editorial:

I would also like to thank my dad’s amazing friends, near and far, who came to visit him, nearly almost every weekend. You know who you are and you have no idea how much that meant to him, but to our family as well. We owe so much to you.