THE OTHER CAR came out of a side lane a little further up that narrow country road when the driver of the pickup truck put down his foot, accelerated, crossed the double yellow centre lane lines, and tried to overtake Pádraig who was on the way to his summer job in a small hotel in Brewster, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, USA.

A split second later, Pádraig’s head was first hit by the C pillar of the pickup truck leaving a dent in the heavy metal, and then by the hard unforgiving tarmac of the road.

A jogger, who happened to be a nurse, rushed over to him and performed CPR, most likely saving his life.

The police quickly determined that the accident had been the victim’s fault and impounded his  bicycle and mobile phone for further investigation.

The driver of the truck was told he could leave and drove off to get his truck fixed that same day. Nobody was ever prosecuted.

The owner of the hotel where Pádraig was going to start his shift posted a note on Facebook to see if anybody could get in touch with his family.

A friend in Dublin alerted his older sister in Berlin who rang her mother.

They first thought it might be a scam from somebody trying to get money feigning an emergency situation.

Eventually, Pat decided to ring the number on the Facebook message.

The police were still at the scene and the Sergeant who was called to the phone said that her son “had cycled into the path of a car”, was critically injured, and was on his way to Cape Cod Hospital in Hyannis.

We did not know then that Pádraig’s life and our lives, that of his family and his friends, in that split second, had changed forever.

Not just a little. But beyond recognition.

It took some hours before we realised that our bright, life-loving, funny, tremendously fit young son had an uncertain future ahead of him.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t end up in a wheelchair”, was one of our prayers at the time.

The reality of what followed was unreal. Stuff of nightmares. Reminiscent of dystopian movies.

Imagine the worst. And then double it. Treble it. Multiply it a 1000 times.

The consultant surgeon’s diagnosis was “an intolerable life”.

His strong and repeated recommendation was to help other critically ill people to lead a full, normal life again, by donating Pádraig’s organs.

Later, back in Dublin, the first question of a specialist trauma and neuro nurse was which nursing home our 23-year old son was going to go to.

The ‘sympathetic’ comment of another trauma and rehabilitation nurse, whom we had told about the accident while with Pádraig, was that it might have been better had he died – for his own and our sake.

The horror of Pádraig’s accident was intensified by the frequently inhumane, uninterested, unambitious, bureaucratic, and cold response of the health system.

The two years following the accident were very difficult for Pádraig. He nearly died on a few occasions but decided that his time had not come.

He had plans.

Ten years after his accident, he still requires care for all of his personal needs. Although we now know that he can see, read, and hear, and that he understands Irish, English, German, and Spanish.

His memory is perfect. So is his reasoning. He still does not like his German father’s jokes but continues to enjoy his mother’s sense of humour.

He eats and drinks the same food as us.

He still goes to Bell X1 concerts, likes shows in the 3Arena, Vicar Street and the Olympia and has seen one of his favourites, The Killers, in Malahide Castle.

He has been on road, train, boat, and aeroplane trips. Even to his dream destination: Alaska.

He has donated the name and the logo of his Irish language podcast to a Foundation entirely inspired by him, promoting Life and Living with a severe Acquired Brain Injury (sABI).

There are hundreds of people like Pádraig in Ireland. An estimated 25 people each year suffer a sABI.

Since Pádraig’s accident, an estimated 250 people suffered these terrible injuries.

The past ten years have been the most difficult years of our lives. All of us, his entire family, have been deeply affected by what happened to Pádraig that morning on the Cape.

One difficult lesson we had to learn was that what is right is not necessarily done, just because it is right. Sometimes, the wrong things are being done for all sorts of reasons.

The police blamed Pádraig, the victim, for the accident. When the accident happened, the driver of the car that caused Pádraig’s devastating injuries, a local plumber from down the road, was not checked for substances by the police.

Neither his phone, nor his car were impounded. He did not even have to make a statement. By contrast, Pádraig’s phone was, so was his bicycle.

Had it not been for the incredible support of his friends and some wonderful people in Hyannis, we would not have been able to cope.

Back home, they went to unimaginable lengths to be with him in person to make him feel their love and support.

They organised the craziest fundraisers to support him, such as a swim in each county of Ireland that has a coastline, over just two long and cold Irish springtime days.

We still wonder what career Pádraig would have followed. Would he have found a loving relationship, perhaps have had children?

What would his life have been like had the driver of that truck, a respected tradesperson in his community, who continued to live a normal life with his wife and his sons, had watched the road in front of him that day?

We are in awe at what Pádraig has achieved even with the severity of his injuries. There is no sense in thinking about what his life could have been. Nonetheless, the thought does cross our minds, and not just today.

Yet, when we look at what has come from his life, his courage and inspiration have resulted in the setting up of the An Saol Foundation and a brand new service for a community of people affected by a severe Acquired Brain Injury (sABI) who were previously left behind.

It is our duty to care for one another, no matter what the injuries are. Nobody should be written off. 

Pádraig is so lucky to be alive and well. We are so fortunate to have him around. But there is also a constant deep and tremendously sad sense of loss.

The trauma of the past years is embedded in our being and while we are trying to build a new life, fear always lurks in the background.

The 27 June 2013 will always be the most life-changing day or our lives.

We hope that Pádraig’s resilience and his example as a trail blazer will make people think twice, especially health professionals, before they write off those affected by sABI and condemn them to a slow and solitary existence in a nursing home bed.

Their life is as meaningful as everybody else’s, they have a right to live their lives with their injuries, and they can, despite their life-changing injuries, have an interesting, loving, and meaningful life, with fun moments and great experiences.