Golden Threads
Paul Jamieson
Paul Jamieson rebuilt his life after a catastrophic brain injury left him unable to speak, eat, or move. Nine years later, he's happier than he's ever been.
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Nine years ago, Paul Jamieson was wakeboarding behind a speedboat when he fell and hit his head. He climbed back onto the boat thinking he was fine, but within minutes his speech slurred and he lost consciousness. A helicopter took him to the Alfred Hospital, where doctors found a bleed on his brain. They drilled a hole through his skull to save his life, but the damage was already done. Paul spent months in a state where he was barely present in his own body, existing but not really there. When infections ravaged his system and antibiotics ran out, his doctors talked to his family about palliative care. But Paul's body had other plans. He started to improve, against all odds, and the recovery began.
What followed were two years without food, without the ability to swallow, without speech. His speech pathologist Rebecca worked with him through tiny increments: thickened fluids, then less thickening, then normal fluids. When he asked to eat mango first, that pureed fruit crossing his lips for the first time in two years felt like gold. His physiotherapist stood on his knees to bend them enough to pedal an electronic bike. One rotation became twenty minutes, then longer. His partner Adam sat by his bedside when no one knew if Paul would make it, and when Adam broke down crying, Paul squeezed his hand to signal he was still there.
Today, Paul cooks salmon by himself and cycles 40 kilometres. He lives independently in his own apartment in Brunswick, works toward paid employment in medical reception, and speaks at universities about his recovery. The negativity that weighed on him before the accident is gone. He says he is happier now than he has ever been, not because life is easier, but because he has learned to notice the smallest things: lunch with family, a conversation with a friend, the chance to help someone feel welcome. That appreciation, he says, is everything.
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