Our daughter arrived in Morgantown from Blacksburg on the morning of November 7, 2009. She went to Ruby Memorial, all of the friends did. Everyone was in shock. It was inconceivable; how, in an instant, could this have happened? She told us that she was so incredibly sad for the Divineys. She also said that if anyone could come through this it would be “Diviney” – prophetic words.
The operation to remove a piece of Ryan’s skull was complete. They got to see Ryan, he still looked like himself. He still had the softness in his face . . . it was before the constant [neurological] “storming” would take its toll. The swelling of his brain was so great that they couldn’t even see that a huge chunk of his skull was missing.
Now it was wait and see. Would he regain consciousness? Our daughter and her boyfriend travelled from Blacksburg to Morgantown one more time to see Ryan and the Divineys. In the meantime the Divineys began the arduous process of deciding next steps for Ryan; they decided that Ryan would transfer to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta.
Once Ryan was transferred our family knew that we needed to go there, and so we did. We packed up and drove to Atlanta with our daughter and her boyfriend. I had tried to prepare myself by asking our daughter how Ryan had looked when she had seen him at Ruby Memorial. I also psyched myself up to not cry when I got there; I told myself that if Ryan could understand anything that the last thing he would need was to have someone scare him even more by crying. I also wanted to be strong for the Divineys; their focus needed to be on Ryan and not some blithering friend.
For over 8 months, Ryan had the left skull flap removed… nearly ⅓ of his cranium.
Nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to see. As we entered the room our focus was immediately drawn toward Ryan. And there he was, with a huge chunk missing from his skull. It was sunken in to the point that I liken it to when a melon has been cut, except that there was skin was covering the area. His eyes seemed closed and sunken, his arms and legs outstretched and tight – tighter than you can imagine – tight enough to break bone if therapy were not already underway.
I have cried for Ryan so many times since. Quite honestly, so have my husband and our daughters. One simply cannot meet Ryan without wanting to cry. Even if you resist, at least upon first meeting Ryan, I can’t imagine the person that doesn’t cry the second you get to a private place, whether you are a woman or a man. His state is incredibly unimaginable. Profoundly injured does not even begin to describe the horror that is.
It takes your breath away . . .
It seems unreal that parents can send off someone so promising to college . . . and get him back in a state where the simple act of wiggling a finger or squeezing a hand when asked is cause for celebration. But they continue to believe, they continue to encourage, as long as Ryan does not give up fighting then neither will they. They will not forsake Ryan. That is it in a nutshell. Nothing more, nothing less, all in, “we got this.”
. . . and boy do they. The Diviney’s are relentless in their pursuit of what is best for Ryan. Ken has set a new standard of care for those with TBI. Ryan is impeccably well cared for – Ken does not miss a trick and is unwavering in his commitment to his family and Ryan.
Ryan, Ken, Sue and Kari are the core of Team Diviney, but it is difficult to express how truly and deeply in my heart how much I desperately wish that there was no need for Team Diviney.
I would love to have back the regular old Diviney’s of yesteryear. The nice family down the street, the Dad that stopped to load my daughter’s “too big” project into his van, the daughter that played on my husband’s softball team, the Mom that always smiled and waved as she drove by our house and that I sometimes commuted with on a bus and the metro over the years. Just normal folks, just like us . . .
. . . and that is why it is so unbelievable when something like this happens to someone who you know. This is the type of thing that happens to other people, you know, people who you don’t know. But, wait a minute, if it can happen to one of our neighborhood boys then maybe it can happen to us .
. . and so goes the randomness of life.
There but by the grace of God go us. Count your blessings and pray for Ryan. I have found through praying for Ryan that I really never fathomed how almost all of us do not appreciate what we have. Ryan has taught me that the blessing of normalcy is a blessing indeed.
And, speaking of God, how could this happen. Ken has shared how he cannot believe in God now. That is something to ponder on another day.
In the meantime, I truly believe that God has sent numerous people to the side of the Divineys. I sincerely hope that our family has done all that God has called us to do.
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Amazing piece, Karen. Thank you for being there for the Divineys, and thank you for sharing your love for them with all of us.
Thank you for these tender, caring words so poignantly written. The Divineys are blessed to have you and your family in their lives – the love and kindness give hope and encouragement. Sometimes love is the thing that sustains and keeps our heads above water. I am grateful to God to see all the progress Ryan has made and will continue to make. He continues to defy the odds with his strength and determination. His will to progress and overcome inspires me endlessly. To know him is to love him and believe in him one hundred percent. I depend on God not for all the answers but to pull us all through this part of life’s journey and beyond. The amount of love I have seen surrounding Ryan is incredible – – the love he gives is a beautiful thing too. Thank you for sharing more of Ryan’s story with us.
I enjoyed reading your post. I believe in God and I pray for Ryan and the family. I wish Ryan can heal sooner, however I believe God is involved and am thankful for the support He’s provided so far. The latest news about Ryan making verbal sounds is positive step and one I pray will continue to develop.
I don’t wish to be crude and/or unknowledgeable but what happens to the brain when the skull is removed like this? I have seen many people on the news recently that have had TBI’s but have regained some function and I didn’t understand how they could look like Ryan in the photo above but then look like Ryan does now without the indention. What happens to the brain? It’s all there right? If I am out of line, please remove this post. I don’t want to upset anyone.
I have never met the Diviney’s, I know them because of a woman my husband worked with at Hechinger’s when they were in high school. I have never even met her. I don’t know if she knows them or not but you are right, it doesn’t matter you have to stop sometimes and just cry about what this family is missing and the contribution Ryan could be making to our world.
The skull flap being removed allows for the brain to swell. Otherwise it would literally crush itself to death. Ryan’s head was sunken due to: 1) the absence of the protective cerebral fluid that surrounds the brain, and 2) the brain a it’s normal size. It’s actually a good thing that it WAs sunken! A shunt is used to prevent build-up. Once his skull was reconstructed the fluid filled the space, but a shunt is still needed to draw it off.
Thank you, that makes complete sense now. I just could not figure out where the brain actually “went” when a piece of the skull is removed. Thank you for explaining, sorry to bring up an icky topic but I have seen this a lot on the news and I never knew. Our bodies are pretty amazing and fixing themselves. 🙂
I love this article. I feel like you have written how I’ve felt on multiple occasions about this. Forever team diviney <3
Oh Karen, now you have me crying. We love the Divineys with all of our heart and will never give up on Ryan either. What an amazing young man and family! I know without a doubt that God is healing and sustaining them through this terrible journey..
Ryan’s injury makes me grateful that my son is ONLY a quadriplegic. It could have been so much worse. Everyday I thank God that Jarrod recovered from his brain injury. As many times as his life has hung in the balance, he continues to be himself. That being said…Ryan and his family are such an inspiration to me. The care they provide for him is amazing. The dedication they’ve shown, and the determination to give him the very best of themselves makes me want to work harder for improving Jarrod’s life. Thank you for sharing so freely so that others can follow Ryan’s progress and learn from your videos how to care for our own loved ones..
Ken makes me feel like a failure when it comes to my father in law, a quad since Nov. 3, 2010. Personalities got in the way of us continuing to care for him and it breaks my heart daily. I know he would be walking by now, even though he is finally standing up in a walker in the rehab place his wife left him. Ken & Sue make everyone’s effort pale in comparison.
Wonderful post ..So many good friends Ryan and so many new ones too
You are so loved and so cared about