Over the years, we have been told to be realistic.

Funny thing is: much of what Pádraig is doing today—standing, communicating, participating, contributing to community life, inspiring the work of the An Saol Foundation—might never have happened if everyone had accepted the “realistic” view offered in 2013.

Pádraig had an incredible week.

We continued to walk as much as we could. Breaking records. Literally breaking new ground. We walked across the therapy room in An Saol. In the only place in Ireland where this is not only possible, but standard.

On Friday, we had three Neuro-orthopedic consultants in An Saol who reviewed 14 of our clients over 4 hours. Mr Poschmann came over from Germany for what must have been his 6th consultation with our clients. The atmosphere in An Saol was truly electric. We reached our capacity limits as clients went in and came out of the consultation like clockwork. Full of life, full of hope, and full of energy knowing that An Saol is the only place in Ireland where they could access such a service – without excessive waiting times and without a charge. Thank you to the three Neuro-orthopaedic orthopaedic consultants who provided this vital services to our clients!

On Friday, the production company tasked by RTE to produce FutureVille Ireland filmed in An Saol – with details to follow.

Saturday was the highlight in our calendar, marking the achievements of our clients in the annual all-inclusive social event, the IronMonth.

Later that afternoon we all went to Hedigan’s for the wrap-party of the documentary he had put together with some of his friends – and which we can’t wait to watch, later this year..

Are you still curious about the most expensive word in healthcare?

I think it might be, at least in the context of sABI, ‘realistic’.Because every time expectations are lowered, opportunities are lost. And when opportunities are lost, people often end up costing the system more—not less.

There have been few weeks like last week when I felt such a spirit of community, support, and hope.

It was only rivalled by this year’s experiences at the Teach an Saol’s annual BBQ, where we celebrated the incredible achievements of some of our client, attempting to do as much as they could in a self-paced the cost-paced all-inclusive IronMonth.

The thought crossed my mind that none of this would exist had it not been for Pádraig’s accident.

The central question, on reflection, is not really what the most expensive word in healthcare is, nor whether we should be more ‘realistic’

The real question is: should healthcare be built around predicting limits or creating possibilities?

What do you think?

The measure of a life is not the challenges it faces, but the love, courage, and joy it brings to others.

13 years ago, on 29th May, we celebrated Pádraig’s birthday in a very nice North Dublin restaurant having lunch together. We had an exceptionally good time together.

When we were finished and left, we spent some time together outside on the pavement, chatting. Pádraig was going to Boston and Cape Cod the next day.

We didn’t know then that this was the last time we were chatting together in person for a long time.

Last Friday, we celebrated his birthday again.

And, for the first time in lucky 13 years, we went back to the same restaurant and had a blast of a lunch. A feast for the eyes, the nose, the palate. In the best of company.

We had to carry the wheelchair down some steep steps to the basement of one of Dublin’s very historic buildings. The staff of the restaurant couldn’t have been more helpful and kind.

Apart from the really outstanding food and eating experience, that afternoon was a perfect example of what can be done if you really try. And you never have to do it all yourself. There is always help around, often when you expect it the least.

There were a few more “firsts” last week.

For the first time, Pádraig supported his head with his arms and hands. He also actively stood up with his arms stretched out moving balls from one bowl to the other, all with a little help from his friends.

For the very first time in Ireland, we walked with Pádraig across An Saol’s therapy space. Myself behind him, two practitioners, each of them helping him with one of his legs, and the fourth person supporting his shoulders and head from the front.

It was a truly spectacular week in so many ways.

A week when I nearly forgot the terrible tragedy that got us where we are today. That has broken our hearts, but will never break our spirits.

And then, on Friday, there was a nearly full-page article about the An Saol Foundation Centre in Ireland’s leading newspaper, The Irish Times, both in its online edition and on Page 5 of its print edition.

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world;
the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself.
Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.
George Bernard Shaw

“Be realistic.”

We heard those words many times.

But there is something strange, frustrating, and limiting about “realism.”

Because almost every meaningful improvement in human life began with somebody refusing to accept the limits that others considered reasonable.

Pentecost is, in many ways, a story about refusing to be realistic.

Because the story of Pentecost is about:ordinary and frightened people hiding away – and then suddenly speaking publicly, courageously and across boundaries they were never expected to cross.

It is about: transformation, courage, imagination, and possibility beyond perceived limits.

If people had always been “realistic,” there would be no disability rights movement. No accessible transport. No independent living movement. No challenge to the idea that survival alone should be enough.

Every meaningful change begins with somebody looking at the world as it is and saying:

“No. We can do better than this.”

Pádraig decided to opt for change.

Is vótálaí mé – I have voted. I’ve made my decision.

On Friday, Pádraig cast his vote in the Dublin Centre by-election triggered by the resignation of Pascal Donoghue
who took up a prominent job at the World Bank.

Pádraig made his mind up 13 years ago, that he would not quit. Not die. Not donate his organs. Not to go into a nursing home. Not to comply with the health system’s expectations. He was not going to be ‘realistic’.

Pádraig decided he was going to start a bit of a revolution.
To be totally ‘un-realistic’.
To proof the ‘realists’ wrong.

Let’s take a quick look at last week: he went to a pub (accessible only via stairs) for a family gathering; he had a brilliant time joining the 70th birthday celebrations of his uncle; he went for beautiful walks in our local park; and, on Friday, cast his first, second, and third preference vote in the Dáil by-elections.

• On Thursday, Pádraig was invited to a gathering in a local pub. There were the usual steps which we quickly left behind. Then his tall wheelchair did not fit under the table. No surprises here either. But this time, we lifted the table, found some small containers, turned them around, and placed them under the table so that it was now high enough for Pádraig’s wheelchair. First, the staff were somewhat reluctant onlookers with a frown on their forehead, but then went with the flow. – We had a great dinner and a few drinks in the best company you could have wished for.

• Earlier in the week, we celebrated a 70th birthday and the family came over to our house – from a 3 year old to the 70 years old. All sitting around the table sharing good food, drinks, and a myriad of stories. The craic was mighty. In fact, it became so outrageously funny that I heard Pádraig laughing out loud for the first time since his accident. We just couldn’t stop laughing.

• With the weather getting a bit warmer and the days getting longer, we’re also back more regularly to our local park for walks along the river and along the ancient trees. The smell of the wet grass and leaves, the view of the slowly moving river, the feeling of the light breezes on the skin, the sounds of the birds singing all around us – each time we go, it is a feast of sensations that puts any therapy into the shade. You just can’t beat nature for beauty and sensations.

Thirteen years after Pádraig’s accident, many of the challenges remain real. Some always will.

But so too are the conversations, the friendships, the travel, the walks in the park, the concerts, the parties, the laughter, the routines, the decisions, the frustrations, the ordinary moments, and the life that continues anyway.

Perhaps realistic people accept the world as it is.

Unrealistic people change it.

Staying In Your Comfort Zone Never Improved Anyone

I was wrong.

The Marathon wasn’t hard. Not at all.

Last week was. It was like running a marathon every morning of the week.

We went to Pforzheim. With Aer Lingus to Frankfurt. With the Deutsche Bahn to Karlsruhe, and then on to Pforzheim. With a big wheelchair, three bags, and no pre-booked train.

Instead of trying to keep Pádraig’s head up on the plane, we now try to rest his head on some pillows placed on his lap. We have a well-working routine helping him on and off the plane. What is out of our control are the general wheelchair access barriers with long waits until someone answers the helpline and offers support.

In Pforzheim, we got a really large, comfortable apartment allocated in the Zentrum der Rehabilitation where we had an early night each night so that we were able to get up at 6am, have a shower, get dressed, and walk over to the Zentrum.

The people in the Zentrum der Rehabilitation in Pforzheim have been helping Pádraig (and the An Saol Foundation) for many years. They base their interventions on three pillars: (1) reduce medication as much as possible, (2) eat well – even with a PEG, and (3) stand, walk, move.

This May was the first time in many years that Pádraig went back for a week. It was extremely demanding, absolutely tiring, and fiercely ambitious.

This video will give you just a short idea of what Pádraig was doing for three hours every morning.

He said he tremendously enjoyed his visit back to meet and work with his old team. What did he enjoy most?

Without hesitation, the daily walk down the therapy room!

There is no place in the world that I am aware of where the practitioners would even think about walking with Pádraig.

Their fantastic creativity, sheer determination, and strong belief in their work is second to none. What an inspiration.

They bring clients out of their comfort zone. Where they explore capabilities they thought they had long lost.

Boom! Out of Control.

Run, Ryan! Hard!
(Someone shouting at me during the Hamburg Marathon)

I posted the below last Monday, but with the wrong date: 04 April 2026. So, if you missed it – here it is again (see below, following the update…).

This weekend we are travelling with Pádraig back to Pforzheim for a week. For old time sake, but also to spend some time with the truly amazing people who helped Pádraig so much. Not just in the early days, but over many years prior to An Saol. What we learned there, as well as in Burgau, Torrelavega, and other places, has shaped our work and keeps inspiring us.

When Pádraig was in unimaginable pain and nobody could or was prepared to help him, in utter despair, we travelled, at the height of COVID, to Pforzheim and to Burgau, and then on to Munich, where Pádraig was saved. A third time. Where we met people who are still supporting our work, Pádraig and our clients in An Saol.

The journey from Hamburg back to Dublin was pretty horrible. The Ryanair plane had to be fixed by an engineer who had to be flown in before we could, eventually and very late, depart Hamburg. Hopefully, none of that stuff will happen on our way to Frankfurt and Pforzheim, nor on our way back. Fingers crossed.

Following my last (not so) long training run, I just about made it home. I felt awful.

A week ago, I realised that I had forgotten to book my flight to Hamburg. Maybe the Universe was telling me: Don’t go.

Last Sunday morning, I still wondered should I really do this.

Registration on Saturday was out of this world. The queues went through two huge exhibition halls and the big space between them. I’d never seen anything like it. The course was the same as every year. Very beautiful, especially the first half, along the Reeperbahn, the river Elbe, the harbour, the inner and outer Alster lakes. Very daunting.

The morning was freezing cold, not a cloud in the sky.

I was placed in the very last starting block. I might have placed myself there when I registered. My aim was to make it over the finishing line in time.

The mix of people around me was fascinating. From smokers to featherweight men and women who didn’t seem to touch the ground when walking, never mind running.

By the time we started, the elite runners were nearly half way back home. We could watch them on a giant screen.

There were itches and slight pains in my knees, in my hips, under my feet. They were gone after a while and replaced slowly but surely by breathlessness and exhaustion.

There must have been a hundred people along the route who shouted out my name telling me that I looked brilliant, that I would make it, that I was almost there, and that I just had to push on, At some stage, a spectator came out, grabbed my hand and run along with me.

There are details I don’t remember at all. The run through the tunnel at the main station. The way up Hamburg’s never-ending heart break hill. The water stops. The toilet stops. The salt tablets and the gels.

Eventually, I made it over the finishing line in good time (for me:).

I walked back to my hotel, taking in more of the sights of Hamburg, stopping for an early dinner.

I was exhausted but felt great. I had beaten my own doubts.

No injuries. Finished in good time. Able to eat and walk back to my accommodation.

I talked to Pádraig, family, and friends many of whom had tracked my run – which turned out to be slightly faster than last year and at a pace I had rarely surpassed during my much shorter training runs.

I couldn’t have done this, the training, the trip to Hamburg, the race, the time away, without the help and encouragement of my family and friends. I am so grateful to them.

Pádraig gave me a big thumbs up in a video he sent me.

I don’t think life is a marathon. Life is much harder and totally unpredictable. But finishing last Sunday made me feel that I’m still rocking, in for the long run.

Not just for the winners, even for me it was a Marathon of records.

First I felt like dying. Then I felt reborn.

Whatever it is, bring it on.

Miracles happen everyday, change your perception of what a miracle is and you’ll see them all around you.
Jon Bon Jovi

They took the crutches out of the Grotto.

Which doesn’t mean that miracles stopped happening, not in Lourdes nor in other places. They continue, in more subtle ways, every day.

You also don’t get a full-body dip in the baths anymore, you just do a ‚water gesture‘, wetting your face with water from the holy well.

Which doesn’t take away from the healing power of that water.

But it takes away a little of the magic.

Because when I went to Lourdes for the first time with my grandmother who had given me the Lourdes pilgrimage as a present for my first holy communion, for me the big Lourdes miracle was that I didn’t need a towel to dry myself after the baths.

When Pádraig went on his first journey to Lourdes, following his accident, the magic did return, though in a slightly different way.

He wasn’t able to go to the baths then, to the water, because he was still to weak. So some men of the order of Malta, lead by Christoph, decided to bring the water to Pádraig, in huge containers.

They brought it to the Accueil‘s large accessible bath and shower room on the second floor where Pádraig, on a waterproof plinth, and all of us who participated in the action, had an incredible, spiritual experience. With an unexpected ending.

It turned out that the room hadn’t been used for some time and all the drains were blocked.

We only noticed that when we were bringing Pádraig back to his room and, literally, had to walk on water that covered not just the bathroom but the entirety of the Accueil‘s second floor.

I had to think about this memorable day again recently when I heard a radio programme commemorating the 80th anniversary of the death of Clemens August Graf von Galen, the former bishop of Münster, who very publicly and courageously spoke out against the inhumane policies of Germany‘s Nazi Government lead by Hitler.

Including the innocently called, but nonetheless utterly horrific, „Aktion T4“. His sermons in 1941 significantly contributed to the decision by the government to officially stop the programme – though, unofficially, it continued for many more years.

“T4” referred to the address Tiergartenstraße 4 in Berlin, the headquarters of the organisation coordinating the programme.

Between 1939 and 1941, and covertly afterwards, people with disabilities, people with mental illnesses, and others classified as “unworthy of life“, as a costly drain on society, the „Volksgemeinschaft“, were systematically killed. Hundreds of thousands of them.

They were driven around the block in the back of vans with the exhaust pipes redirected into the back, killing those in it. A first version of the infamous gas chambers. They were given lethal injections. Or killed through deliberate starvation

Christoph, the man who brought the holy water to Pádraig, when Pádraig couldn’t make it to the water, turned out to be a nephew of Clemens.

He, as did his uncle, recognised, believed, knew, that there is no „unworthy life“ – and both were prepared to stand up for their believe. Instead, they were moving mountains, and huge water containers, to stand up for those who needed their help.

You cannot put a price on human life.

We might have different views on the power or even the existence of miracles.

But today, we are united in our believe that everybody has the right to the support they need to live their lives with dignity and respect – even if there is ‚no return‘ on that ‚investment‘. Today, we recognise that resources are never wasted when used to support people who need that support so desperately. Today, we respect the life of all of our brothers and sisters – no matter what kind of injury they live with, what kind of disability they have, or what medical condition they suffer.

The 1941 sermons of Clemens August Graf von Galen, Bishop of Münster, who died 80 years ago, continue to show us the way.

They still encourage us to speak up and say, “We Would Rather Live.” To say: Do not see care for those with severe Acquired Brain Injury (sABI) as a drain on society, but as an opportunity to show our brothers and sisters what it means to “live our humanity.”