1st installment - About Dave's Brain Injury
2nd installment - The Electrical Current
3rd installment - The Prognosis
First some background information about Dave and his family:
Dave was the fifth of nine children born to Joe and Phyllis Dunn in Grand Island, NE during the '50's and '60's. Joe owned and operated Dunn's Pharmacy where he worked long hours at the long-time family business. Phyllis, who was trained as a registered nurse, was a stay-at-home mom during the early years. The family endured tragedy when the the second-eldest, Michael, died from a heart condition at just nine months old.
The Dunn clan grew up in the shadow of St. Mary's Cathedral and school in a neighborhood swimming with large Catholic families. Phyllis and the other neighborhood moms formed a solid support system that helped them survive the overwhelming challenges of raising large families. It's safe to say that Phyllis earned every white hair that now covers her precious 87-year-old head.
Joe was a strict and often stern disciplinarian who worked hard to support his family. When Dave was in high school, he wasn't particularly close to his dad. One example of their relationship was Dave's response when Joe ordered him to get a haircut. In a defiant move that was fairly common in the early 1970's, Dave grew his hair shoulder-length and kept it that way through much of high school. But the strain between the two eased when Dave joined the Army National Guard in 1979. Joe was part of the entourage that met Dave at the airport when he returned from basic training. Dave will never forget hearing his dad say how proud he was.
A year later, Joe Dunn died from cancer.
It was a tough loss for the family, but Phyllis rose to the occasion and finished raising the youngest of the eight children while working full time. She did a good job as the kids grew to become caring, fun-loving and close-knit siblings.
And now, the fourth installment of Brain Injury Miracles: "Dave...what are you doing here?"
There's one detail I've failed to mention about Dave's accident. When he fell out of the back of his pick-up and hit the pavement, he was knocked unconscious - and he quit breathing. The friend who was with Dave kept up resuscitation efforts until emergency crews arrived. This experience came into play weeks later shortly after Dave regained his ability to talk.
Even though Dave was still dealing with major memory problems - and with speech issues - he recounted a memory one evening in a clear and steady voice.
"I saw my dad," he said unexpectedly.
I spun my head around to look him in the eye. "What did you say?" I replied.
"I saw my dad," he said again. "I was walking along and there he was - standing in front of me. He looked down at his watch and said, 'Dave...what are you doing here? It's not time for you to be here."
Dave described how his dad then shook his finger at him and said sternly, "Now you get back down there. You still have things to do!"
Dave turned around and started walking away. His dad then called out to him and Dave turned back around. "But Dave," he said. "It was really great to see you. I'll see you later, but now get back down there!"
Why was Dave sent back home when others weren't - including Dave's brother Bill who died this past January from cancer? What are the things that Dave still needs to do?
None of us know the answers to these questions. But I do know that, since the accident, Dave received the gift of becoming closer to his girls. And he has helped more people than I can possibly count. Perhaps most importantly, he was there to walk Keeley down the aisle when she got married four years ago. God willing, he will be there to walk Molly down the aisle next spring.
And it's comforting to know that Joe was there to greet Bill when he died. I can only imagine what a joyful reunion it was!
Up next: The visit with the neurologist