Tobias' Recovery

“Save Me from This Therapist” When Therapy Hurts – and Still Carries Hope This morning, Tobias had speech therapy and occupational therapy as an interdisciplinary session. That means both therapists work together so Tobias can learn to speak louder while moving. During the transfer, this is anything but easy. Tobias still lacks full core strength. I watch the therapists closely. The occupational therapist works very deeply into the muscles — and it hurts a lot. Tobias complains loudly and calls out to me: “Mother, save me from this woman!” I start wondering whether the overstimulation over the weekend and on Monday might be connected to his pain center — memories from 2021 and 2022 resurface. I want to step in immediately, but I hesitate. Stretching and mobilizing like this must hurt terribly. He cries and complains — and that breaks a mother’s heart. For a moment, I ask myself whether it is even acceptable to cause this much pain in patients like Tobias. I am not the expert, so at fir...

  A Winter of Therapy, Awareness, and Small Victories It’s been a little quiet here — even though this page was meant to be active. A space for our peers, for those directly affected, and for anyone who wants to learn more about the journeys of others and the courage it takes to face them. In the second half of 2025, Tobias made progress that brought us joy — but that progress also revealed some lingering challenges more clearly. Let me explain it this way: imagine your neck hurts, your back makes daily life harder. Then the physiotherapist gets to work, and you begin learning how to strengthen your core muscles. Suddenly, things start improving. Your posture, your stability, your pain levels — all better. Then, out of nowhere, the tennis elbow flares up again. You start to feel it. Why now? It’s a matter of perception. The neck pain had been louder — more dominant. The brain gave it priority. Now that you're addressing the neck and responding to the body's signals, the brain s...

  Breathe. Live in the Now. Today I read about the murder of Charlie Kirk. It was a shock—not only because of the act itself, but because of the many voices that immediately grew loud: hatred, mockery, satisfaction, anger. And I asked myself: How quickly do we let ourselves get pulled into that spiral? How quickly does our ego jump up, wanting to judge, to take sides? But deep inside, I feel: this is not my true nature. Hatred and anger are not part of my inner core. They are like shadows coming from the outside. The true Self—quiet, still, full of love—does not know this noise. When I think of Tobias, I feel even more clearly what is important and what is not. He has lost so much: freedom of movement, independence, security in daily life. Suddenly, he had to learn to rely on others—on me, on his family, on the outside world. That was hard. But in this vulnerability, he discovered something precious: that his Heavenly Father carries him. That God is not the cause of unrest, but ...

  Atme. Leben im Jetzt. Heute habe ich von der Ermordung von Charlie Kirk gelesen. Es war ein Schock, nicht nur wegen der Tat selbst, sondern wegen der vielen Stimmen, die sofort laut wurden: Hass, Spott, Genugtuung, Ärger. Und ich habe mich gefragt: Wie schnell lassen wir uns hineinziehen in diese Spirale? Wie schnell springt unser Ego auf, will urteilen, will Partei ergreifen? Aber tief in mir spüre ich: Das ist nicht meine wahre Natur. Hass und Ärger gehören nicht zu meinem inneren Kern. Sie sind wie Schatten, die von außen kommen. Das wahre ICH – leise, still, voller Liebe – kennt diesen Lärm nicht. Wenn ich an Tobias denke, spüre ich noch deutlicher, was wichtig ist und was nicht. Er hat so viel verloren: Bewegungsfreiheit, Selbstständigkeit, Sicherheit im Alltag. Plötzlich musste er lernen, sich auf andere zu verlassen – auf mich, auf seine Familie, auf das Außen. Das war hart. Aber in dieser Verletzlichkeit hat er etwas Kostbares entdeckt: Dass sein Vater im Himmel ihn tr...

It was quite an experience  taking Tobias to Lindlar Tyler took the train with Tobias to Cologne, while I drove the car with all our luggage, everything needed for Tobias’s care, some rehab equipment, and more. The car was packed — no space left for Tyler and Tobias. I also felt it was important to bring both wheelchairs, since Lindlar is nestled in a beautiful valley surrounded by fields and woods, but with many steep hills, even in the tiny village. My back isn’t in great shape, and I didn’t want to risk anything. Pushing a wheelchair uphill confirmed that it was the right decision to bring both. Tyler and I were nervous about the trip. How would Tobias do? Would he be in pain? We're still scared and somewhat traumatized from the first two years, when Tobias often had storming episodes and severe pain. He's shown us that his body has become more stable and stronger — but we still carry hesitation. And he did great. So did Tyler. It took me almost ten hours by car due t...

  TobiasComeback Blog Entry: “Sitting Still Isn’t Giving Up” May 12, 2025 Today, I watched Tobias sit in his wheelchair, parked just a few feet from where he wanted to go. He sat there, quiet, still, and focused—his right leg poised for a move that didn’t come. I didn’t rush in. I didn’t rescue. I just watched it. And waited. How long is too long to wait? That question lives in the quiet spaces of our daily lives. It’s not just about time; it’s about trust. Trust in the process. Trust in the effort, even when it may not appear to be effortful. Trust in the stillness that might seem like stuckness but could actually be building something unseen. We’re teaching Tobias to move his wheelchair using his right leg on the floor—just a scoot, a push, a glide. It sounds simple. But for someone whose brain was once bathed in blood from a rupture he didn’t ask for, it’s a mountain. And yet, day after day, we practice. Occasionally he can do it, but sometimes he freezes. And that’s whe...