The Nachsorgekongress in Frankfurt finished today. The national curfew on entering Ireland unfortunately not. The first Aer Lingus flight back home was going to be late night on Sunday which I booked and went back to the hotel I had just checked out of in the morning. Then I saw a Lufthansa flight leaving this evening for Dublin, straight away bought a ticket, and immediately checked in. I had been in the hotel just for an hour and asked the receptionist would they refund my money because I could now get back to Dublin tonight. (It was one of those hotels where you have to pay in advance, in case…) They said no, they couldn’t and wouldn’t. A second later I received a text from Lufthansa saying they had cancelled tonight’s flight to Dublin. Panic. But only for a few minutes until I received another text telling me that they had re-booked me onto tomorrow’s very early morning flight. – So, in the end, and with a bit of excitement, all kinda worked out. Hopefully.

So this afternoon I took a walk to downtown Frankfurt, home of the euro. I nearly bought a 17 euro ticket to the Frankfurt Opera House to see “L’Africaine – Vasco da Gama” by Giacomo Meyerbeers. When I heard it was 4 1/2 hours long I first hesitated: although 17 euro for a 4 1/2 long opera is a snatch… and then decided: I was going to give it a miss. Even this being a truly ‘grand’ opera and all, I would most likely have fallen asleep half way through. It’ll be an early night instead.

Carers are still thin on the ground (with some notable exceptions), just like snow, so the folks at home are mainly managing on their own and I feel bad not being there to help. There was a bit of a crisis today as carers did not turn up at all to look after an 85+ year old very ill bed-ridden neighbour whose equally mature partner was becoming increasingly nervous about things – which is when an incredibly generous and caring neighbour (who had also looked after Pádraig on occasions) stepped in. It was a life-saver, maybe in the true sense of the word. And it makes me think: what do care agencies believe happens to a very ill bed-ridden octogenarian if hey are not being look after and cared for over a number of days. In my books this is nothing short of abuse of the elderly and far worse than any beast approaching from whatever direction…

It’s when you think all is working out that things turn around 180 degrees. What a happy day it seemed to be this morning when my plane left at a ridiculously early hour and got me to Frankfurt in time for the 12th annual brain injury after-care congress.

I just checked tomorrow’s flight back home to Dublin and discovered that Dublin Airport will be closed altogether. The country will be in lock-down tomorrow. And guess what: Saturday’s flights are all sold out. Will I have to stay in my Heimat for a while?

In the meantime, it got this brilliant photo of Pádraig enjoying the snow.

Apparently, he threw a snowball at his sister… seriously!

I know that the probability of someone from Aer Lingus reading this is slim, never mind someone from Lufthansa. But just in case… I could need some help to get back home so as not to leave them on their own.

There are 9 year children in Ireland who are experiencing snow for the first time. Isn’t that incredible. To allow everybody having a good time together, there won’t be any buses tomorrow and practically no public transport. Schools will be closed not just tomorrow, but also on Friday. From 4pm tomorrow there will be a curfew (well…). The government is telling everybody to stay at home. In Dublin, shelves are empty and there are reports on bread vans being hijacked. Pubs have special offers (a pint and a slice of bread) for civil servants.

I’ll be getting up at 3 tomorrow morning to catch a flight to Frankfurt to attend the annual after-care congress (Nachsorgekongress). The big question is: will the airport be open?

Given that a lot of therapists couldn’t drive in the snow today, we had a bit more time to ourselves. Time for conversations with Pádraig. Time to ask him how things are going for him. How he is feeling. What he misses most. What he would like to do. To make it easier, we asked him to answer on a scale from 1 to 3. “1” being the least interesting or least missed, “3” being the most interesting or most missed ‘thing’.

Turns out that he misses being able to talk (2), but not terribly. He really wants to get An Saol going and go out every day, rather than being stuck in the house or his room most of the time. He didn’t have very strong views on what he misses or cannot do. By contrast, he has very strong views on what he wants to do: travel and getting around.

He knows that travelling isn’t easy for him. Spending long hours in the wheelchair, being transferred on planes and spaces that are not really comfortable for him, to say the least, being ‘accommodated’ in cars that are too small or beds that are too short for him is not fun, I am sure. But all that fades into nothingness in comparison to what he seems to be getting out of his travels. Being amongst people, Seeing, smelling, hearing, feeling, tasting what is going on in the world. Living. That is what he wants. Even it it is not always easy and, at times, and literally, a bruising experience.

What really impressed me most was that, while he did acknowledge that he is missing things and, for example, the ability to communicate better, his focus is very clearly and unambiguously on what is possible.

I am learning from Pádraig. Every day.

Here is the question: is it better to expect the worst to then find out that it wasn’t quite as bad as expected? Or is it better to just keep going and deal with whatever life throws up as it happens?

Tonight the supermarket shelves in Dublin are empty. No bread. No milk – except goats’ milk.

The people of Dublin are not going to take a chance. Whatever snow storms are going to hit the city, they’re going to be prepared. The TV, the radio, the people on the street have not talked about anything else but this potentially status red type storm…

Tuesday is swimming day for Pádraig. He is really doing well. Incredibly well. He did the ‘usual’ like kicking his legs, pulling and pushing himself from the side of the pool. But we started something new: working with his arms, something he hasn’t done that much in the water so far…..

Are we or have we been prepared for the worst? – Definitely not. I’d rather ‘run’ into a storm blindfolded than worry about what potentially could happen if…

If you look at this from the perspective of a German judge, what you’re seeing on this image is a restriction of liberty that requires a judicial review. Restriction? Where?

The table in front of Pádraig’s stomach, the one his arms are resting on. To be exact, you wouldn’t need that judicial review and permission given by a judge in the home, but you would certainly need it if the table was used in an institution.

When I mentioned to the judge that doctors in Ireland can medicate persons who don’t have the capacity to decide for themselves and on their own without any kind of permission given by relatives (or other legally appointed guardians), that, in fact, they can decide what will happen to these persons without even having to disclose this to the family or any other appointed person or guardian, that judge was speechless and said that this was a very dangerous if it really was allowed.

Now, Germans might be just that little bit more sensitive to this issue because of their history, but history is there to learn from to try and not to repeat the fatal mistakes of the past. It’s easy to find out why and how the Nazis killed those who they considered to be not more than just a burden on society.

Pádraig went food shopping this afternoon. We wondered whether it would be worth the hassle to put on his jacket, to get him out of the house, into the car and into the supermarket. Just to go shopping. Turned out it was: he did picked food for his dinner, for his breakfast and for his sweet tooth. He could pick between options. And you wouldn’t believe what an enormous difference that little tiny bit of empowerment and self-determination.

No restrictions!

It was a breathtaking match. We were matching each goal and then, with just 3 minutes 16 seconds to go, we took the lead with 3:2. Then, with 55.2 seconds to go, they caught up. 3:3. One of our players was sent off in over time. And within a minute the OAR scored and won the gold medal. – If you are like myself, you’re now going to google OAR – which country is that? Only to find out that it is not a country at all but Olympic Athletes from Russia. Isn’t that really, incredibly funny – all the athletes came from Russia, but Russia did not win!? I mean, come on….?

But we didn’t allow us to get depressed and decided to have some fun. We went out for Sunday lunch. To Ikea. To Ikea?

You’re right. That isn’t really that much fun at all at all. But going out, watching so many families moving through this gigantic furniture superstore, was brilliant. The food in the ‘restaurant’ was really cheap and, mostly, not too bad. The ‘Dime Cake’ could even be recommended. Pádraig took about a minute to finish it up. Nuts and all.

And in IKEA, for the first time, someone told Pádraig she had been following this blog; someone we had never met, someone we didn’t know. She said that she felt she knew us really well and that she was delighted to see all the progress Pádraig had made, and how he was out and about. Even in Ikea!

If that isn’t encouragement!

Even if we lost against the OAR.

While I was out with our Spanish friends in Glendalough this afternoon, Pádraig did what we all had been waiting for for some time now. Something simple, in one way, but pretty spectacular in another.

Someone had brought in some chocolates (yes, I know, it’s lent:). They decided to put one piece of this really nice chocolate near his fingers on a table standing in front of him and helped him a bit to pick it up. Here comes the “first”: with the piece of chocolate in his fingers, he lifted up his arm and his hands, opened his mouth and put the chocolate in his mouth. Boom!

This ever increasing level of control and independency also includes making people laugh, smiling at people, and spelling out jokes on people. You should have seen him when the really colourful and larger than life mother of one of his friends came in yesterday to leave some food she had prepared for him, gave him a big hug and a huge kiss on his cheek while asking for ‘forgiveness’ because she had forgotten to put on her usual strikingly red lipstick that morning! At least, she said, no-one had to wipe off the big red mark her kiss would have left on his cheek! Even when disaster strikes, there is always a positive aspect to it:) – And he was, together with all of us in the room, laughing his head off. What must have made him even happier than that remark was surely the feeling that he could share his happiness with us. Which is (a good bit of) what life is all about!

You have to look twice. But then you’ll see that this is the funniest comb you’ve ever seen in your life – sourced by one of Pádraig’s therapists.

It does the job. Pádraig can hold it in his hand and he can comb himself, with a little help. Sometimes, the most strangely looking things can have the most unexpected effects.

There’s nothing like a good plan. Of course, it will change the minute you’ll be trying to implement and follow it. But what the heck? We’d be lost without them. The idea to put some structure into our lives, some goals into our work, and belief that there is a way to achieve them that we can map out.

Part of our plan for Pádraig is now to work with him on spelling – though ‘work’ is not what it should be. It should be fun, it should allow more participation and inclusion.

Today, he shared with us the names of the two favourite songs by two of his favourite bands. We even managed to find them on youtube and played them for him.

I got word today that the lift into the FABrík got fixed! Isn’t that nice of the landlord to get it completely reset and to get a new shutter motor installed just so that we can bring Pádraig into that space that will soon be converted into the most amazing day centre on the planed: designed and run by Dreamboaters!

Can you imagine a newsreader saying: “There are no news tonight. And now the weather.”? Not really. And yet, my best friend’s father remembered a day where exactly this happened.

Was the newsreader right? Was there, indeed, a day when nothing happened? vI feel that there are days when what moves me is so important that anything else disappears into the background. Our really good friends from Spain arrived today to visit for a few days – an absolute highlight! Pádraig had an excellent hour of music therapy.This morning, we did exercises we hadn’t done in a good while. Yet the one outstanding hour was in the presence of a good friend who had died. Another person, the third since before Christmas, who was very close to us and passed away.

I’ll leave you for now and wish us a restful and peaceful night!