Small signs. Big meaning. Oliver's quiet progress.
- Stefan
- 4 days ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
In recent weeks and months, we have repeatedly received similar questions.
Can Oliver move his hands?
Does he still need a ventilator?
Will Oliver ever be able to walk?
Thank you so much for asking these questions. It shows us that you are hopeful Oliver is making progress. There's a lot of progress happening right now that isn't immediately obvious. But it's there, and it's incredibly important. You can't see it in videos or pictures.
About three months ago, Oliver started showing us that he could feel his bladder. Whenever his catheter is changed, he very clearly says that he needs to pee. His catheter is changed once a month. Medically, this is called suprapubic catheter. This means a small hole in his lower abdomen leads directly into his bladder. After the change, there is often slight irritation or infection. Oliver then notices that there is still urine in his bladder. He only stops saying "pee-pee" when it's completely gone. We help him by gently flushing the catheter with water and removing the remaining urine with a syringe. For us, this is a clear sign. There is awareness. There is a connection.
The newest thing has only been around for two or three weeks. Oliver now tells us when he needs to poop. He uses the Spanish word "Popo" for it. Oliver can't yet control this muscle himself or actively push. But he can feel when he's full. And he lets us know. We then position him to make it easier for him. We pull his legs up and move them forward. Sometimes exercises help, sometimes we have to give him extra help. Today, for example, he couldn't take a nap because he kept saying he needed to poop. Only when he was completely done did his body finally calm down.
Many of Oliver's movements are emotionally driven. It's not as if we can say he's consciously moving his hands or legs. Not yet. And frankly, we don't know if he'll ever be able to move his hands intentionally or if he'll ever be able to walk. No one can tell us that. But all these new observations give us hope. Because they show that a connection exists.
Oliver is only two and a half years old. He doesn't yet have the vocabulary to explain to us exactly how all this feels to him. Nevertheless, we are seeing changes. He used to always want someone to sit next to him and stroke his head. That made him feel secure. Lately, it's often enough for him if we hold his hand and gently stroke it. If we let go, he demands our hand again. That's new, too.
Something else struck us today. While Oliver was trying to take a nap, a nurse listened to his stomach with a stethoscope. We stroked Oliver’s head during this time. But Oliver reacted and said no. He didn’t want his stomach to be listened to. He felt someone touching his stomach. We take this as an important sign. His eyes were definitely closed.
Another frequent question is when Oliver will be able to eat on his own again. He hasn't worn his neck brace for three weeks now, only in the car for safety. We've cautiously started giving him a little ice cream, not as a meal, but as a supplement. Most of the time, Oliver isn't hungry because he's still being fed according to his plan, and that's important to us. A healthy weight and stable condition are our priorities. We'll take everything slowly and carefully. First one spoonful, then two, and eventually maybe one meal a day. Step by step.
What's really important to us is that Oliver's journey isn't a sprint. It's only been five months since his surgery in Chicago. The accident happened nine months ago. For such a serious injury, that's an extremely short time from a medical perspective. Oliver is here, Oliver is alive, and Oliver is 100 percent mentally present. He laughs, he radiates joy, and he has incredible inner strength. Often, he has a better outlook on life than we adults do.
We are now placing great hope in the stem cell therapy in the USA, which we will be undergoing twice this year: once in April and once in November. Perhaps Oliver will consciously move his hand for the first time there. Perhaps his toes. And if that happens, we will build on it. The Shirley Ryan Rehabilitation Center in Chicago offers exactly the resources for this: training, modern therapies, exoskeletons. That is our goal for this year.
And to be perfectly honest, we don't care whether it takes two or five years until Oliver can walk again. If he can walk again someday, then that time will be nothing in his life. Until then, we will give him the best possible life. We are absolutely convinced that Oliver will be independent again. We will do everything we can to make that happen.
Thanks again for all the comments and questions. We are always grateful for good advice as well.
We wish you all a healthy new year.
Your
Laura and Stefan
with Oliver, Julian and Sebastian
