You know that I have been looking for people to join me in Wacken, this tiny village in the North of Germany, between Hamburg and Tating, that, every year, is home to the world’s largest heavy metal open air concert. Today, Pat and I visited a house, not too far away from Wacken, that has been bringing its tenants to Wacken, wheelchairs and all, for many years now.

The promoters give them free tickets and they get close up to the stage. Heavy Metallers help to carry the chairs across the mud, if necessary. They bring persons with very severe ABI, even in a state of extreme minimal consciousness. The manager of the house told us that one of their clients who had never even moved before, lifted his head, opened his eyes, and smiled – for the first time ever. Heavy Metal therapy.

When we met them, we met a group of people, between 16 and 50, sitting around in a circle, kicking a giant ball towards each other. A lovely labrador running towards us to great us as we came through the door. Really funky music playing in the background. Some people sitting on one side of the room, but still right bang in the middle of life, resting, sleeping, just being them, in really comfortable chairs.

It’s an image I’ll never forget.

They had serious fun and those who, because of their condition, could not actively take part in the fun, felt the energy, life happening, in this large yet almost homely feeling room.

Most of the people were what I so often have heard being called by the professionals ‘hopeless cases’. Yet, they were as active as they could be, they engaged as much as they could engage, and there was a level of interaction going on that was truly inspiring.

One of the people was a German lady who had had an accident in the USA. When her doctors proposed to switch off her food supply, her family rescued her and brought her to Germany. After a few months, here carers noticed that she really likes horror movies. (Yes, I was thinking something similar to what is probably just going through your mind.) They decided to buy a gadget (something like one that takes an EEG, but better and more mobile) which allowed them (=researchers at a nearby university) to identify the currents in her brain that show that she wants to change the channel on her TV. The last problem they have to resolve now is to translate that signal into one that the remote control for her telly understands. Should be a piece of cake.

The place I am talking about is a small, 39 bed home in a village you’d hardly find on a map, set up by a man who came across a place for people with acquired brain injury (ABI) that was about to close down because the man running it couldn’t do his job anymore. So he took heart and decided to do what he had never done before: he took over the home and expanded it to what it is today. Pat and I went to see it this morning and were truly impressed.

This is the closest place we’ve seen to what we imagine An Saol to be.

Today, we met people with very severe ABI. Nobody, nobody looked at them as ‘hopeless cases’, not worth the investment. To the contrary, all of them had a life they seemed to enjoy and waiting for W:O:A 2015!

Pádraig went back eating today almost as good as he had before the injury on his left arm. The swelling there continues going down, and the dark and yellow patches are also disappearing. He’s got over it and we’re moving on. Another memory. We had a meeting with his doctor today who will start using new medication and build that up over the coming three weeks or so to see whether it’ll have an effect on Pádraig.

We asked again about bringing him out, downstairs, for a walk. There doesn’t seem to be a way. On the positive side: there is always the roof garden! And the sun is still shining in Hamburg!