One year, 1,600 miles and a few million brain cells later....

Well, hi everybody!

I've been a bit quiet of late because my life has been moving at quite a clip! Today's an auspicious day though and I'd like to explain why.

On January 27th 2010 I was out at my usual Wednesday night footie game near my house in Westminster, Colorado. A few minutes into the game, I was tripped by one of the opposing defenders and fell headlong into the plexiglass wall that surrounded the pitch. I was rushed by ambulance to St. Anthony's hospital in Denver where I was fortunate to be seen by an incredibly talented team who acted quickly to treat what would later be termed a severe brain injury. I was then transfered to the intensive care unit where I spent five days, none of which I can recall. I don't remember the impact and have a gap of about six days which is common and known as post-traumatic amnesia. This single event set my life off into hyperdrive.

Deemed stable enough to begin rehabilitation, I was admitted to Craig Hospital - a well regarded brain injury treatment hospital and began one of the most challenging periods of my life. I awoke in a plastic bed and saw my mother at the foot of the bed (this was certainly odd as she lived about 1,200 miles away at the time). I was told on which days I could shower. I had to wear a safety harness when simply walking up stairs as part of physical therapy. I was given exercises that involved circling pictures of dogs, but only when they were next to beach balls (you might think I'm joking about that one...I'm not). I survived on chocolate milk and the Santiago's breakfast burritos and Daz Bog coffee that my mother brought for me every morning. My family was by my side for most of the ordeal and put up with my vicious mood and my extraordinary frustration while managing their enormous fears that I may never be the same as I had been before the accident. My mother flew in from Ohio, my sister from Washington, my aunt from Luton in England and my father and his then-fiancee were there to support me. Zach, Erin, Dreger, Rupal, Brendan, Abby, Kesse, Brendo and Mandy all came by as well. There is a debt of gratitude for those friends and family who were a major part of my recovery that I will never be able to repay. I would crawl over broken glass and swim through lemon juice to be there for them and still, I'd owe them more.

Despite all of the grim news and shock, I knew that I would be alright. My rage at not being listened to (dismissed at the time, but later validated by someone I deeply respect) and my ability to converse in fluent Spanish with the lunch lady, Marta, were hugely encouraging pieces of evidence that I would recover. By late March, I was out of the hospital and staying with my father up in the mountains above Boulder. Never have I been more excited to sleep in a real bed. By June, I was back to work at HP. By July, I'd realized that I wouldn't be living in Colorado for much longer and left Colorado for Maryland in early October. By mid-December, I'd applied to six MBA programs from New York to Washington DC.

Going back a bit...

I made a prediction about 2010 that's turned out to be true. I made it in Scotland in late December 2009. I spent New Year's there with my cousin Helen and a couple of her friends including the wickedly funny David Priorstrom. We recounted our tales of 2009 over hot toddies in the various pubs of Glasgow and came to the conclusion that 2010 was going to be a much better year than 2009 had been.

Less than a month later, I was fighting for my life. The injury set the tone for the first half of 2010. I had to endure challenges, none of which I'd ever faced before. There's something utterly surprising about being spoken to like a six-year-old; being told what days you are to shower, your opinions on matters of significance discounted by the professionals in charge of your care. Surrounded by nurses, physicians and my tremendous family, I still felt like I was fighting parts of a battle alone. When I left the hospital, I was given some "rules" which I was to follow: no alcohol for a year, no soccer for a year (with a request to never play again), bring a "buddy" to any new events like when I was going to head to the grocery store for the first time, no driving until I'd passed a multi-day evaluation and been cleared by my physician, no work for at least 3 months. Much of the sting of all of that has faded, but I look back now and it feels like I've been dropped into an ice bath.

I've been determined to put the injury/recovery behind me and yet, a year on, I see it as a more significant event that I ever thought I would. I don't feel defined by it, but it kicked off massive changes in my life. I returned to a job I didn't like before the injury and pushed towards getting out. On December 15th, I met that goal by leaving sales operations and taking a new role heading up a small team in delivery operations for HP Software Education. All of the disappointment and frustration I've felt are quickly being replaced by enthusiasm. Suffice to say that my professional life has FINALLY improved!

I returned to soccer - the sport that I love. Risky as it may be, this was the right decision and I'm happier on the pitch than off of it.

I also re-started my pursuit of graduate education. I used studying for the GMAT as therapy and on July 31st, I scored in the 92nd percentile. Since then I have applied to six of the best graduate programs in the world and been accepted to Georgetown and the University of Maryland, two of the top 50 schools in the world.

I've also fallen in love with a wonderful woman named Abby. We've known each other for more than a decade and have danced around the idea of getting together for nearly as long. She came to visit me in March when I was just out of the hospital. A lunch meeting ended up with us spending four solid days together and over cups of coffee and hours of chatting and catching up we both knew that there was something we couldn't ignore there. She came with me to Sarah and Gareth's wedding in England in August and we also took the train to Paris and eventually made our way down to Gigaro on the coast. She'd recently graduated from law school at Ohio State University and we were both in need of a real vacation. Today, we celebrate 10 months together.

And so, one year on, I reflect on the most tumultuous period of my life. A year ago today, I came closer to death than ever before. Today, I'm alive and well and chugging happily along a path filled with happiness and successes galore. Without a doubt, the first half of 2010 was the worst of my entire life, but the second half has brought an overpowering light and goodness such that my prediction came true; 2010 was better than 2009. I am endlessly grateful for those aforementioned and the countless others around the world who prayed for me and kept me in their thoughts. You are a big part of why I am able to sit smugly and say that I was able to predict the future. Thank you.

A very special and big shout-out to Kathy Hardin, a speech therapist at Mapleton Rehab Hospital in Boulder for all of her help. Kathy - you listened to me in a way no one else had. You challenged me and called me on my nonsense. You're a cut above and a big reason that I've been able to achieve a lot of this. THANK YOU.

Here's to a year full of happiness and one completely lacking in impacts with plexiglass!

Cheers,

Dom