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PRC Profile of Success: Dale Osborn, P.E.

Dale Osborn lives in Henderson, KY with his wife, Lynda. His profile is comprised of excerpts from his autobiography.

I was born and raised on a dairy farm in Pennsylvania, in the town of Waterford (population 2,000), eight miles south of Erie (population 150,000). I was the fourth of five siblings, with twenty-four years between my oldest brother, Don, and my youngest brother, Duane. I was almost the baby! My younger brother was twelve years my junior. You could say that I was the baby for twelve years and though I wouldn't say I was spoiled, others in the family might disagree.

Before April 18th, 1994, my life was full, the good life, abundant with a loving wife and four healthy, bright children. Our home combined elegance with a lived-in feeling. I loved my job! Engineering came easily. I liked the hands-on approach to life. I was pleased, satisfied. All was well with the world!

After April 18th, 1994, I could not talk, could not walk, and was relegated to a wheel chair, totally dependent on others for mobility. Before, if I didn't agree with something, I could say so or walk away. You have heard the expression, 'Bite your tongue.' Well, I have permanently bitten mine! I can push keys for speaking and my wheelchair serves for walking away. I am pleased that this is possible. I am sad that I must adjust to this new way of living. My therapist refers to it as 'a new lifestyle.' Okay!

When one has a brain injury many weird things happen. I lost the time the accident happened. It is as if that part of my life does not exist. I do not remember that day or the days that followed. Without a like experience, I do not think it possible to imagine. As an indication of what happened to me, an irresistible force hit an immovable object. A torque wrench hit me in my head.

With recovery, I did little other than lay in the bed. I thought of how my mother must have felt on another tragic day. She was giving me a bath when I was six months old. A glass bottle dropped and shattered sending a piece of the glass into my eye. I lost sight in my right eye. I do not think Mom ever got over it.

That incident seemed a little like this accident. I have much empathy for the mechanic operating the Bolter that resulted in my head injury. It was not his fault. He must have had feelings much as my mother had. I wrote to him to let him know my feelings, that it was not his fault, just as I have always known it was not my mother's fault. The circumstances of life seem to weave tapestries that must have some reason. Somewhere in time or space I rest assured that I will have an understanding of how it all goes together. I know there is a reason for everything.

One of my therapists along the way asked the question, "Which do you most miss, talking or walking?" My response was without hesitation, "Talking!" I was surprised that she asked! I am fortunate to have the convenience of a Liberator (augmentative device). I have utilized the Liberator to address church audiences in Florida, Pennsylvania and Kentucky. At our home church I have used it to address our Sunday school class, and our Men’s and our Women’s clubs. I have been in medical facilities in five states, so there is a lot to share.  These addresses would not be possible without an augmentative speaking device like the Liberator. I am a registered, professional engineer and I am convinced that the liberator is an engineering marvel.

My dog, Jazz, has had a strong influence in my recovery. Jazz quickly adapted to my new lifestyle. As I could not call her vocally, she adapted to my non-verbal commands. Always, she intuitively came to my right side, knowing my left side was paralyzed. When overwhelmed on my first visit home, it was Jazz who gave me comfort. She offered stability in what was familiar in her attentive and loving manner. Click here to read "Old Faithful." (32 KB .PDF)

When one is handicapped the ramifications are extensive, not only to the so-called victim, but also to all those around him or her. Everything changes! Likely the most difficult transition is the acceptance of change, the acceptance of the disability. I find this has been the most difficult for my family. Currently, over thirteen years later, they continue to hope for my return to full function. This can create resentment as I plateau in physical abilities and limitations. I am resigned to my present abilities. Supportive family and friends, a positive attitude, and an appreciation for the simplicities in life have been most important in my adjustment.

Dale D. Osborn, P.E.

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