Ash Griffiths - Weathering the Storm
Ash was walking his dog when he was struck by a falling tree during Storm Eunice. This story describes his journey of resilience throughout his prolonged recovery.
Words by Dean Hersey
“Ash yearned to ride his bike every minute of his recovery, promptly fed by a daily regime of mountain bike videos on the internet. It was like it was a prescription. The bike became the central focus, and breathing renewed energy.”
Ash Griffiths was born in Kenya before moving with his parents and settling in the U.K. He has ridden mountain bikes since school. He has travelled and raced bicycles; like many, the sport consumed him and his free time. He was just going about his regular daily routine. His day started much like any other, and only he decided on a slight detour from the usual walk with Dawa, his black labrador. The forecast for the mid-February day was due to worsening as the morning went on. As his own boss, owning a window cleaning business allows him to be flexible. So they left their home in Cambridgeshire a little earlier than usual to avoid the worst conditions due later that day, not that Dawa seemed to mind leaving the warmth of the house just after sunrise. So Ash led his furry companion into the open, the pair traipsing over the sodden sports fields. This route evades most of the trees from their walk. With the wind already gusting gale force, they would wisely avert any risk of falling debris.
As they reached the edge of the field, they passed under the lifeless and bare canopy of trees that skirted the road. It felt like the intensity of Storm Eunice grew with each step. She was making her presence felt. Neither Dawa nor Ash was hanging about to marvel at her ferocity. Head down, Ash’s pace quickens as their feet touch the firm ground of the pavement. Then, a crack deafened them. The naked limb of the double leader had let go at the main trunk and missed Dawa as she bolted from the noise. The leaves from the strangling parasitic ivy caught a violent gust like the sail of a tall ship. Ash wasn't as nimble or immediate to react.
A passer noticed Dawa by the fallen tree. They thought he was alone until the dog’s lead came from the mess blocking the path. Then, the stranger realised Ash was unconscious underneath the grounded, tangled mayhem. The emergency services were on the scene within minutes. His memory of the incident consists of briefly coming around under the tree before attempting to escape, only to black out again. He later discovered that he had called out from deep under the timber to ask a stranger if his dog was unharmed. The fire service had to cut Ash out before he could be loaded into the ambulance and sped under the repetitive din of its siren to the hospital.
The following hours were full of scans and X-rays to determine the extent of Ash’s injuries. His bloodied body was a mess of fractured ribs, cheek, and skull. He had also suffered three compressed vertebrae and a bleed on his brain. A worryingly painful four-day stint at the Neuro Critical Care Unit was followed by a day in the general ward before he embarked on his recovery journey at home.
Still in considerable discomfort, Ash began his rehabilitation and recovery process with a steady yet favourable prognosis. His wife, Jude, drove him to his first appointment. The physiotherapist that would play a pivotal role in his recovery in the coming weeks was a former military medic of 20 years serving in Iraq and Afghanistan as a spinal specialist. Ash realised that the physio also happened to be a neighbour, not one the couple knew other than the occasional polite passing wave whilst exercising Dawa.
The pair slowly walked into the clinic and were called to be seen after a brief wait. Jude handed Ash’s discharge notes from the hospital to Andy, the physio, as they sat down. After reading through the pages, Andy looked at Ash and commented how impressive it was that just a week after the incident; he managed to walk himself in to see him. With the comment offering some comfort to Ash's situation, his newfound confidence prompted him to ask how long his recovery would take and when he could return to work and ride a bike again. Unfortunately, Andy’s response of eight to ten months had a devastating effect on Ash.
The now sullen pair head to the exit and drift past a patient on their way in for treatment; Ash could only watch as the colour drained from the face of his stunned wife in seeing this paralysed young man. Despite Ash's long road to recovery, Jude realised how fortunate her husband had been to walk away from this ordeal. The prospect of being able to return to things he enjoyed before the storm, let alone to be this side of the turf still.
With this physio work beginning, Ash felt a compelling and overwhelming wish to visit the scores of teams and individuals that helped on the day and the subsequent weeks after the storm. He thanked the fire service over a cuppa at their station. The crew started the meeting as professionally as expected. First, they went over what had happened that morning, but eventually, the banter ensued. Ash welcomed their light-hearted approach. This theme continued with the emergency response paramedics in the attending ambulance. It is most certainly how Ash’s heroes of the emergency services deal with the circumstances they attend to daily.
Ash took time to track down the tree surgeon, that cleared the tree that had struck him from the road. After investigating, he found the phone number and sat down to touch base with them. It was primarily to help piece together some of the finer details for no reason other than to allow him to understand the event better. The phone rang a few times until a man’s voice answered. Ash introduced himself and explained what had happened to him, and the line went dead abruptly. The tree surgeon hung up on Ash in shock. Eventually, Ash managed to reach the man again and was greeted with an apology and explained that with the amount of Ash’s blood that flooded the scene, he was sure that he had died. The arborist described that the piece of the tree that landed on Ash was a 12 inch diameter that fell 40ft. This wasn't just a limb or a branch. Half of the tree split away from the main trunk at a fork, unbelievably, from a Fraxinus Excelsior. Ash was hit by an Ash tree.
In the days following the call with the tree surgeon, Ash felt numb and overwhelmed. During his first physio session, Andy had warned him of the risk of post-traumatic stress disorder. With no idea or understanding of how to process what had happened or how he was feeling. Ash spent days sitting in the garden with Dawa as they basked in the early spring sunshine. Ash was relieved to feel the sun’s warmth return after the long cold of winter, and the welcomed shift from the weather had caused him so much pain and changed his world. Thoughts swirled continuously around his mind. He was so close to not being, leaving Jude alone, maybe being alive but paralysed, and life as he knew being changed forever for himself and the people closest to him. These days felt long and exhausting as the mood and emotions weighed heavily.
Every movement requires a gritting of teeth, a grimace and a groan. Ash, ever the optimist, still felt drained by his pain. However, these feelings soon began to turn from numbness to awe, just as if the warmth in the garden grew simultaneously with the song's volume from the birds surrounding him. Ash brimmed with emotion, and he felt reminded that life is not a given. Nevertheless, he grasped hold of this positivity and renewed perspective. After months sat watching a tv screen whilst his body healed, his determination flourished. Ash yearned to ride his bike every minute of his recovery, promptly fed by a daily regime of mountain bike videos on the internet. It was like it was a prescription. The bike became the central focus, and breathing renewed energy. Yet it would be long into the fifth month of recovery before Ash clambered onto a bike. At first, he went on the most sedate road rides. Unable to twist his body and still in discomfort, he cherished every second and every pedal stroke. His thorough patience during the recovery process was gradually repaid. With every little ride, Ash felt the aches and pains slowly dissipate.
It would be 233 days since the accident before Ash would finally ride his mountain bike again. He was overwhelmed by the experience of being out in the dirt, mixed with the emotions of pride and relief. He was feeling consumed by the flow state again, that state of mind where things are second nature. This has been missing, allowing himself to be immersed and preoccupied, if only for a short while. To forget about what happened that day while walking his dog. Disregard the pressures of work and being an adult. Riding a mountain bike transports him to a feeling most only find in their childhood.
Ash understands that progress is incremental, but he has targets. This helps him to plan and focus. The desire to race his mountain bike, maybe the Megavalanche again. He felt incredibly fortunate to have no long lasting, significant side effects. Ash is now 15mm shorter. He suffers from back pain and numbness at the back of his head. He can only sometimes get complete sentences out cleanly, causing understandable frustration. These might all pass with further work and patience; if they don’t, he is wholeheartedly determined with every ounce of strength and stubbornness to eke out every drop of juice from life, with his bike playing a pivotal part in his new plan. Ash is adamant that despite the months of pain, he would never change what happened that day in February in the storm. Ash Griffiths has a newfound love for life that takes nothing for granted. Sometimes it takes a fire to feel alive again, but what’s a stoke without a flame?