Clear sailing
(Danny McCoy's story from Toronto Rehab magazine - Spring/Summer 2002)

Six years ago, he was "on the skids" A paraplegic from a spinal injury sustained in a car crash, banks foreclosed on his businesses, he lost most of his personal possessions, and when he left hospital after close to a year, he had to live in a van.

"Depression is a serious and often hidden disease of the disabled," he says. He credits his ability to turn his life around to family and friends, the staff at Toronto Rehab's Lyndhurst Centre and his life-long love of sailing.

At 50, Danny McCoy lives a life he never dreamed would be possible. A competitive sailor, racing against able-bodied and disabled sailors from around the world, last fall
Danny claimed the Canadian national championship in the Mobility Cup Regatta for
the fourth time. He has competed in world championships from Finland to Melbourne and in world disabled championships from Spain to Florida. In 2000, he represented Canada in sailing's 2.4-metre class at the Paralympics in Sydney, Australia, and he hopes to be on the team again for the 2004 Paralympics in Athens, Greece.

At regattas, Danny is often surrounded by children, giving coaching sessions on the shore and offering advice on the course to those having difficulty.

"Sailing is total freedom," Danny explains. "It means that I can get out of my wheelchair, leave it at the dock, and go and enjoy the wind, sun and water. I can go anywhere effortlessly. It's a wonderful feeling. Sailing is unique as a sport because I can race able-bodied individuals to more severely disabled individuals, and when we're in the boats, there's no difference. We are racers, we are sailors. There's no other sport in the world where that happens because in sailing, you don't need muscle power as much as you need your brain."

While he fondly recalls the times before his injury - running back and forth along the deck, adjusting and raising sails, enjoying the rigours of spent energy and muscles - Danny says that post-injury sailing was mainly "a mental adjustment."

Since he can move his arms and hands, Danny now uses hand controls for steering and adjusting the sails. Hand and foot controls or breath (sip-and-puff electronic controls) can be used, depending on the ability of the sailor. "Sailing saved me," Danny says. "I found that most of my limitations were in my mind. I realized that there were some things that I couldn't do, but there was a whole pile of things that I still could do."

Danny delivers that message everywhere he travels, and by returning to Lyndhurst Centre whenever he is back in Toronto - encouraging people with spinal cord injuries "to find that one hint of light that shines in" and allows them to move forward with hope.
"I know how scared I was, and I just keep thinking that maybe there's something I can say that will help someone else. I always come away from Lyndhurst feeling great. The place just draws me back. I think it's one of the most spectacular rehab centres I've
ever seen. They were so good to me there." And with a smile, he adds, "I gave them a lot of heartache for a while."

A day in the life
(John Shepherd's story from Toronto Rehab magazine Spring/Summer 2003)

The rehabilitation journey can take many paths, depending on the needs and goals of the person involved, and the nature of their disability. Toronto Rehab patient John Shepherd, 30, an inpatient of the Spinal Cord Rehabilitation Program, shares his activities, and some of his thoughts and motivations during a typical day in his life.

7:30 a.m. The morning routine begins with breakfast and a visit from John's physician. By 8:00 a.m., he is up and begins his self-care-"that's bowel treatment, a shower, a shave, getting dressed and ready to go," explains John. Three months in the spinal cord rehab program at Lyndhurst Centre has taught John to do most of his own self-care and to cut the time it takes in half.

10:00 a.m. Regular appointments with a social worker have helped John to make arrangements for accessible housing, a wheelchair and other equipment and supplies. "I've always got a long list of things at the end of each day that I haven't done. I try to dig within myself to find those things that are worth devoting my time and energy to-
because I no longer feel that I have limitless resources."

11:00 a.m. "Physiotherapy is primarily focused on specific functional skills - transferring from bed to wheelchair or into a car," says John. "I've been working hard and making progress at an unbelievable rate." After lunch, John attends a 1:15 p.m. exercise program - "a pulley class to develop upper body muscles." By 2:30 p.m., he joins a seated Tai Chi class "to increase my flexibility and mobility."

3:00 p.m. Occupational Therapy focuses on activities of daily living - "practicing and figuring out new skills to allow me to do things that I used to do. I've made a couple of meals in the kitchen, and I've learned to put my contacts in, shave myself, tie a tie, use my record player and other lifestyle-oriented activities." John also works in
appointments with the psychologist.

7:45 p.m. Following dinner, John's evenings are filled with visitors, replying to E-mails and voice mails, and the occasional trip to see a movie or go to a book store with one of several new friends from the spinal cord rehab program. He is impressed by the camaraderie at Lyndhurst, and has "developed an almost surprising fondness for
other patients here," he says. "I am amazed by their heroics."

John Shepherd is an intelligent and articulate person with a clear vision of who he is and what he wants to accomplish. A Master's of Business Administration student at Harvard University, he sustained a spinal cord injury in a February car crash and has quadriplegia. "I want to be able to do all the things for a satisfying life - work, travel, have a family and live independently. The staff of the spinal cord rehab program have given me the confidence to believe it's absolutely possible." John hopes to return to Harvard in January to finish his degree.