The question is not really if. The question is when.
I’m banging my head against the wall that needs to be knocked. I’m telling anybody and everybody who I can make listen that what is going on is not just unjust but also completely senseless. I make my private life public. I really annoy people who think I should be grateful for what Pádraig is getting rather than highlighting deficiencies. I make a little bit of progress, but really just a little bit. I risk my health and that of those around me because I’m not really paying sufficient attention to the warning signs.
It’s not a question if. It’s when.
Pádraig continues to make progress. Over the weekend, he had his first steak: not minced but cut into (thin) slices. The way I’d like it. And you should have seen how he enjoyed it. In the afternoon, he has a slice of toast (no crusts, those are for me:) with butter which he really enjoys. He smiles when people make (good) jokes. He is able to hold his head when we stand together, even if only for a second – those will become more.
It’s clearly not if. It’s just when.
That wall will come down and if it takes my bloody head that keeps knocking against it. The idea that young people with their lives ahead of them can just be abandoned in nursing homes to rot away or in their homes with just the basic, functional healthcare with no rehab being provided will soon become unacceptable in Ireland. People will not have to give up their own lives completely as a subsequence of a severe acquired brain injury, they will get the support they need to continue and adapt their lives. A fair system will offer help where it is needed.
All this will happen – we just don’t know when.
I’d say: the sooner the better, if we want to avoid even more casualties in these appalling situations.