In March 2019, eight months after a 30-foot-fall and the brain injury that nearly ended his life, Johnathan earned a place on the team at an Omaha-area Chick-fil-A. This isn’t what you might think of as traditional therapy.
Truly, this is more than a rehab opportunity in a volunteer setting. It’s the portal through which John can take the next step of his recovery.
In February, QLI approached Andy and his leadership team about the possibility of bringing John onto the team for workplace training. John, at that time only two months away from the end of his rehabilitation at QLI, was beginning to stitch together his burgeoning physical and cognitive abilities into the tasks he’d perform in everyday life.
For John, formal therapy was only a stepping-off point. Only so much is possible within the isolated confines of a physical therapy lab or a medical center.
To entertain any notion of independence is to reflect on the distance John has traveled at QLI.
In the early stages of recovery even the smallest of challenges were mountains to climb.
John’s first months of therapy focused on intensive training aimed to build strength, build physical and cognitive endurance, and build the forward momentum necessary to launch into the next chapter of his life.
Couched within the relentless environment and intentional structure of QLI, change happened rapidly. John’s clinicians snapped to respond, combining function-focused therapy strategies with tasks situated in true-to-life situations. By blending simulated activity and real-world activity, John and his therapists took away the uncertainty of unfamiliarity.
New situations were suddenly manageable, new problems suddenly solvable, and new ambitions suddenly achievable.
John’s spectacular resurgence isn’t just a glimpse at what it might be to return to regular work—it’s also a window into the ways he’ll be able to enjoy the other fulfilling parts of his life.
Of course, pool is a game of control. It’s a game of angles and premeditation and of improvisation, of making the best out of the situation on the table. But to John, someone who has had to wrestle control over constant dyskinetic motion in his arms and legs, the importance of that control reaches so much further.
If John’s work simulation at Chick-fil-A has meant anything, it has meant a tremendous spike in his personal confidence. As a volunteer with real responsibility, John is able to see—in concrete terms—his capacity for accomplishment. His job description interweaves the very skills he has spent the last year of his life relearning.
From customer interaction, which pushes him to overcome the doubt and insecurity he feels about the quality of his speaking voice, to physical tasks around the restaurant, which challenge his endurance, his balance, and his in-the-moment reasoning—John transfers all of the lessons from therapy and proves their worth in a real-world environment.
One thing stands evident beyond all else: John is succeeding. The transition is happening. The brain injury that forced its way into John’s life doesn’t have the power to stop it, or him.
It doesn’t stop at greeting each guest—it includes being a part of their day with genuine, charming conversation. It isn’t defined by the ability to complete all of a day’s tasks in the little time given, but by the care and dedication that ensures everything—to the smallest degree—is perfect.
John’s success has been incredible, inspiring, and, in many ways, a defiance of the bleak expectations that seemed all but inevitable following his life-changing fall. But his story thus far is itself only the beginning of a larger goal.
Where Chick-fil-A provided a powerful functional setting in which to hone his physical and cognitive toolset, it is John who must dedicate his focus and energy on the continuing journey toward recovery.
Credits:
Written by Carsten Froehlich Photography by Jon Pearson