30 Jul 2024
When Matt was critically injured after falling nearly 20ft, his mother Anne began the complex journey of navigating and supporting her son’s recovery. More specifically, the recovery from a traumatic brain injury – an injury in which everyone’s experience is unique.
After a search for a resource that could provide comfort and advice yielded no results, Anne has shared her own experiences in the hope it will help other mothers in the future who may sadly find themselves by their child’s bedside.
When it all began
On 27 November 2010, Matt fell nearly 20ft in Camden and was critically injured, being treated on scene by first responders, including London’s Air Ambulance. But his parents, Anne and Nick, remained unaware of this until the next morning.
“Our landline wasn’t working at the time, they sent a policeman round in the early hours of the morning, but we didn’t hear,” said Anne. “We found out later that day, when I found 35 missed calls on my mobile, many from early that morning.
“It never occurred to me that it could be what it in fact was. Listening to the voicemails we heard the word hospital and then Nick said ‘we have to go, Matt’s in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU)’. I was in a daze after that.
“I remember arriving at the ICU: all his friends who had been with him the night before were there and they looked in a terrible state. They didn’t know what to say to us.
“We went in and saw him and the doctor said ‘he’s had a brain injury’. A traumatic brain injury was something I had never heard of and none of it made much sense to us.
“You don’t take much in that first day: I was there but I wasn’t there, I felt like I was in an episode of a TV drama. I couldn’t relate it to my life or my son, it just seemed very odd. It was also weird as he looked so healthy – we’d just got back from two weeks in Mauritius and he’d been keeping fit, training for the ski season. So apart from a little bit of blood coming out one ear and a broken wrist, he looked too healthy for it to be anything serious.
“I kept thinking he’ll wake up any minute – I think when you’re in shock that’s what you do, you don’t let certain thoughts creep in. Little did we know that Matt would be in a coma for six weeks. Our whole life became the hospital.”
Lack of resource at the time
Having never been in this position before, Anne and her family found themselves looking for a resource that could help shed some light on the process and offer some positivity for the potential future.
“We were given a leaflet about the ICU and I remember at the bottom it said ‘of course patients can die in ICU’. That is not what I needed to be told. I just wanted someone to tell me there was every possibility it could all be fine, false hope or not.
“I did my own searching but back then there wasn’t anything available. It wasn’t long after James Cracknell’s and Richard Hammond’s incidents had happened – they’d both had brain injuries and written books – but they’d woken up after days and made swift progress, so they didn’t feel relevant.
“I wanted a story of someone who hadn’t recovered quickly but yet still made some progress.
“It is depressing when you want – need – positive examples, but instead you just hear ‘it’s not like it is in the movies, they won’t just wake up and walk away’, however true this may be.”
The waiting game
Matt remained in the ICU in a coma for 11 days. “We visited everyday of course and were often in the waiting room waiting for the ward to open.
“We found ourselves surrounded by families who were also waiting – they were a great source of comfort. We were all in the same boat, you really are the only people who understand each other as you’re all going through the same thing. We were all trying to be madly positive and you could talk to each other openly as you knew they felt the same as you did.
“After those 11 days, the doctors said there was nothing more they could do, it was just a matter of wait and see.”
Matt was then transferred to the High Dependency Unit, where he was until 11 January.
“Again, this period of time was just waiting, but here little things started happening. He would move something slightly or flinch when pinched – the clinicians said this was a good sign.
“However, he had post traumatic amnesia, so for snippets of time he’d come out of unconsciousness. He couldn’t speak or move but he might open his eyes or something small and then he’d fade away and be back fast asleep again. That was a very strange time, I thought he’d either be unconscious or he wouldn’t be – I didn’t know about post traumatic amnesia.
“All they could tell us was that they had no idea what he could be able to do if or when he was fully conscious. They said he might never walk or talk again, we just didn’t know.”
Getting through it, day by day
“When I was told ‘we don’t know if he’ll wake up and if he does, we don’t know in what capacity’, that just hit me. So, I decided not to ask more questions, buried my head in the sand and basically refused to think negatively. On the whole I am a very optimistic person and so I just refused to believe it.
“I could have been kidding myself, but that was my way of coping. I did on some level recognise it could all end very badly, but I thought I’m not going to waste time thinking about that. If it does happen, then it’s going to be awful and we’ll have to deal with it. But I’m not dealing with it until I have to – I’m not going to spend weeks worrying about something that might not happen, as that’ll be a waste of time.
“I kept myself busy by organising visits from his friends. He had groups of friends from all over the place and so I contacted them all and gave updates where I could. I encouraged all the visitors to talk to him too, I made myself feel useful. I felt like I was doing something, I was acting like a mother. I couldn’t do much but that was one thing I could do.
“His friends were great, they were quite positive too. Because he was such a positive and energetic person, it was hard to believe he wouldn’t pull through. His friends kept us going, they would come in with videos that they’d play in front of him. They kept him around us and that would help us find the strength to hope it’s going to be alright.”
The next stage of recovery
Thankfully, Matt did wake up from his coma and was transferred to a neuro rehabilitation facility.
“We felt such huge relief when he fully woke up,” said Anne. “But of course there was then a whole new onset of challenges.
“When Matt arrived at rehab, he hadn’t said a word or moved a limb, he couldn’t even sit up. But then one day as I was leaving, he said to me ‘say hi to the dogs for me’. I nearly fell over! Just wow.
“You must celebrate all the moments worth celebrating. The next thing he said to me was ‘I want to go skiing’!
Matt’s schedule was then tightly packed on the rehab unit, full of speech and language therapy, occupational therapy, physiotherapy. “Every day he would be occupied doing all these things. He had almost no memory – he would tell you the same story five times in five minutes and his speech was incredibly slurred. I did find it all quite bizarre.
“The clinicians said they didn’t know how far he would get in his recovery – another unknown – but as long as he was making progress, he could stay. And make progress he did.”
Matt remained in the rehab facility until the end of June, having made an astounding recovery.
“When he was finally discharged, the neuro consultant in charge of the facility was incredibly optimistic. He said he could foresee Matt achieving a full recovery in every aspect. He actually didn’t do that – Matt still walks with a wobble and if he’s tired his memory and speech can still be poor. Of course, how he is now we happily accept, but it is worth mentioning that – albeit unusually – this consultant was over-optimistic in his estimations. When it comes to brain injuries, they’re always estimations, no one knows for sure what the future holds.”
Adapting to a new way of life
“When he did get back home, I googled everything I could about brain injuries and recoveries and other peoples’ journeys. That helped me feel like I was doing something.
“As we progressed through the recovery, there were periods when I got upset because he’d lost some empathy and couldn’t really understand some emotions. At one stage he had an outburst, claiming ‘I hate my parents have to control everything’ and that came as a real shock to me: he never would have said that before. I thought he had changed and was no longer the Matt he used to be, but we found that was a phase, he went through it and came out the other side.
“For several years now, he has been the old Matt – always very kind and funny. He is very much back, so you’ve got to be patient.
“There were other odd things that happened – he got obsessed with buying things, at one stage he had 10 million hats he didn’t need. But he’s stopped doing that now too!
“I learnt to think – when these not very nice things were happening – that it’s his brain re-wiring, some messages just weren’t getting through. As he’d had a diffuse injury, all different parts of the brain were damaged and so you had to hope they’d sort themselves out. And most of them did. I told myself we’d get through this and thankfully we did.
“He still has physio now and sometimes still makes improvements: he never stops challenging himself. But one thing that was very difficult was letting go. Once you have been through the anxiety of the incident, the long slow rehab process and now your child is itching to get back out in the world, you have to step back.
“Obviously how much you step back will depend on how far the recovery has progressed. If not a great deal of progress has been possible, then maybe you won’t be able to step back. In our case, Matt had made a good recovery – not 100%, but a good recovery. He was still quite wobbly, as his balance had been badly affected, and occasionally he had difficulty remembering things, but he was well enough to have a go at living independently. That was so difficult for Nick and me. We knew we had to let him back into the real world, but we did it quite slowly. Gradually his confidence grew and our confidence in him grew. He now successfully gets on planes, trains, buses and plans his own journeys.”
Advice for another mother
“You just have to take one day at a time. Forget about the past. Forget about the future. Take one day at a time. If a little toe moves, that is really something to celebrate. If eyes are a little open, get excited about it. Hold onto what you can.
“One thing I have really loved about this whole experience is getting to realise how kind and generous other people are. You usually only hear about nasty things half the time, but there are so many great people out there, it really can warm your heart when you see it.
“Matt and his goal setting also really helped us keep going. Most of his goals were quite good: he wanted to walk the Amsterdam Marathon for a charity helping skiers with life-changing injuries. So, we spent one summer training for this marathon, going a little bit further each time on a walk. He completed the marathon; it took him over nine hours, but he did it. So, if there’s a passion or a goal, use it as a background to encourage progress.
“However, occasionally Matt and his friends would come up with totally impractical, crazy ideas that just wouldn’t work. This happened quite a lot in the months following his discharge when I think they were hoping they could pick up as before – despite the fact Matt was in a wheelchair at the time. As parents, you just have to say no, even when you feel awful about doing so. It’s never fun being the baddie.
“The most important thing is realising it can take an awfully long time – literally years – and you have to just stick with it. With Matt we found he’d plateau for a few months and not much would happen, so you’d think well this is as far as we’re getting, then suddenly he’d go up a notch. You can never really know. They’ve changed the thinking on brain injury recovery timescales and now think recovery can go on for years. So, you just have to keep on going.
“It is a matter of being very patient and just waiting and seeing. What you shouldn’t do is set yourself goals at the very beginning. Matt’s accident happened in November and I thought ‘right by Christmas he’ll be fine’, but that didn’t happen. Then ‘by this date, this’, I kept setting myself goals in my head: “in three months this will be over”. That was a mistake, you can’t do that. Don’t think about the future, just think they’re still here today, that’s amazing, so let’s get through today and then tomorrow. Be very patient and don’t get ahead of yourself.
“Matt’s golden rule was no negativity: ‘Mum, Mum, no negativity!’”
The road to the top of the mountain
In 2021, Anne and Matt released a book called The road to the top of the mountain: a book detailing Matt’s recovery and his journey back to independent living.
“I wanted to write the book that I couldn’t find. So, when Matt was a bit more on his feet, I thought ‘let’s write something so other people can refer to it’. Took us about four years, things kept progressing so then the book kept getting longer.
“Unfortunately, we got a self-publishing deal which meant the launch was mid-lockdown and no one knew about it! But I’m now trying to find a literary agent who may want to take it on. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m not willing to let it go. We’ve have had some really lovely contact from people who have read it and it’s really helped and inspired them.
“We’re now nearly 14 years since Matt’s incident and Matt is going to add a chapter about how he really feels about his brain injury and how people react to it. He’s never truly talked about how he really feels before. I’m hoping that will be really insightful and impactful. The important thing to share is that we’re all still learning – even 14 years on from the accident!”
You can read more about Matt’s journey here, who in 2022 even completed London’s Air Ambulance Charity’s helipad abseil. We’re so thankful to Anne for sharing her perspectives through this challenging time and hope many will find comfort and solace as a result.