Messenger - Vol. 4, No. 2, Page 5 1995 Trooper's rehabilitation from head injury an inspiration Randy Armistead, Delaware '85, could be bitter. Many people in his shoes would be. Just two years after graduating from the University of Delaware, Armistead suffered a traumatic brain injury that forced him to undertake a long and arduous rehabilitation-a process that continues to this day. But, if you visit Armistead, you'll find hope and determination rather than anger or defeat, because Armistead's life is driven by the future, not the past. As he strives to realize his full potential, Armistead has become an inspiration to others in similar situations and an outspoken advocate of tougher laws to prevent situations like the one that nearly took his life. Armistead was a Delaware state trooper and volunteer firefighter in 1987 when a 21-year-old woman on cocaine slammed into the police car he was driving on duty. The crash killed the driver and two passengers in her car and left Armistead in a coma for three months. Today, he is in rehabilitation through the ReMed/Bryn Mawr Rehabilitation Hospital Supported Living Program, a re-entry program that promotes independence while offering daily assistance. Armistead lives with two housemates in a Malvern, Pa., home that's owned by the program, and he follows a rigid schedule of work, therapy, exercise and household chores. The 32-year-old Armistead breaks into a contagious smile as he talks fondly about his "good days" before the crash. He matter-of- factly explains that damage to his brain's frontal and temporal lobes has restricted his mobility and slowed his speech. He was forced to relearn such basic functions as chewing, walking and talking. Armistead now speaks to high school and college students and civic groups about the struggles he's faced-and still faces-and how the accident has changed his life forever. His overriding message: Never drive under the influence of drugs and alcohol. A criminal justice major at Delaware, Armistead became interested in law enforcement while he was a campus security guard. He also worked as a volunteer firefighter and an emergency medical technician while at the University. "That was back in my prime days," he says. "As a student at Delaware, I woke up and turned on the scanner." Armistead cites lack of mobility as his biggest day-to-day frustration. "I don't have a driver's license. If I have to go to the hospital (where he works one day a week as a horticulture aide), I have to rely on the program's van for transportation and go through scheduling," he says. Yet, he finds a silver lining, adding, "If anything, that teaches you patience." Armistead stays busy. On Mondays and Tuesdays-his "money-making days"-he unloads and stacks boxes of crafts at a warehouse for a non- profit organization. His weekly schedule also includes therapeutic horseback riding and swimming classes, jogging, weight-lifting and speech therapy. At home, he takes turns carrying out the trash, shopping for groceries and cleaning. Twenty-two ribbons that he's won in handicapped divisions at horse shows hang on one wall of his bedroom. Although he began the activity as therapy, horseback riding has become one of his favorite pastimes. Armistead says his main goal is "to get and maintain a steady job." He also strives to increase his mobility and, eventually, to find "Miss Right." Megan Daly, Armistead's rehab case manager in the supportive living program, says Armistead is overcoming many of his limitations because of his determination and his family's support. "He has increased his awareness of his barriers, and he works at finding alternative ways to achieve something that he normally would have been able to do without thinking twice," Daly says. "He lives in the community with real neighbors and interacts on a daily basis with the general public. He's an integral part of the community." Armistead's parents, Connee and Richard Armistead, call their son's recovery a miracle. "The lesson we've learned is that everyone takes things for granted. We take for granted our everyday ability to cope with life. This is a jolt. It makes you realize life is so precious," Mrs. Armistead says. Since the accident, Armistead, his parents and his brother, Dexter, have dedicated their lives to helping prevent similar tragedies. They have become advocates for stricter driving-under-the- influence (DUI) laws, and they support efforts to develop educational programs with the medical profession that enlighten the public about brain injuries. "The public is uninformed and it is quick to put labels on people. It is important for people with head injuries to be understood," Mrs. Armistead says. The Armisteads actively support the federal Traumatic Brain Injury Bill, which would recognize brain injuries as a disability and provide help and education to brain-injury survivors. Armistead, who was wearing his seat belt at the time of the crash, also supports strict seat belt laws. As he was relearning to walk, he was pictured on billboards throughout Delaware wearing a seat belt in a state police car as part of the state's seat belt awareness campaign. Armistead speaks to students as part of Bryn Mawr Rehabilitation Hospital's "Cruisin', Not Boozin'" injury prevention program, and to civic groups and senior citizens about the perils of drinking and driving and the importance of taking precautions to avoid injuries. He also addresses police officers, encouraging them not to give breaks to people on drugs or alcohol, and he speaks to DUI offenders. The year after Armistead's accident, the half-time show at Delaware's Homecoming was dedicated to Armistead. The Delaware 200 Club, a philanthropic organization, established the Trooper Randall P. Armistead Scholarship, which is given annually to the children of police officers and firefighters who have been injured in the line of duty. So inspirational is the Armisteads' story that they were chosen as one of a handful of families to participate in an educational film produced by Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia. The film is intended to help educate rehabilitation professionals and others about the far-reaching effects of brain injuries, especially as the injuries relate to re-entering day-to-day life. "We never expected Randy to come this far," Mrs. Armistead says. "By all indications, he has come much further than ever expected. Hopefully, someday, he will live on his own. That's the big, big goal." -Marylee Sauder, Delaware '83