A gentle cradling of the arn of the Champ
Source: Photograph: Graham Hartley
In this post, I continue to examine former world boxing champion John Famechon’s lived experience of acquired brain injury, recovery, and resilience.
Famechon suffered an incapacitating brain injury in August 1991 when a car, estimated to be traveling at 100 kpm (62 mph), hit him as he was crossing a road near Warwick Farm in Sydney. Famechon was immediately placed into intensive emergency care. During this time, he also suffered a stroke on the left side of his body.
Upon discharge from the hospital in October 1992, Famechon and his then-fiancée, Glenys, were advised that John would be severely incapacitated for the remainder of his life.
As a result of a serendipitous meeting with Famechon, I began a new form of brain-based complex movement therapy with him. My sessions with Famechon lasted anywhere from an hour to three hours. The first session, on December 18, 1993, began by slowly and gently opening his left fist and then massaging the open hand. Initially, his fist felt cold; however, once the hand was open, and with additional massaging of the hand and forearm, I could feel the tonal tension leave the hand, as it became warmer, natural, and flexible.
The fist that rocked the world opened up to a new and novel form of therapy
Source: Photograph: Graham Hartley.
After this, I placed my left hand and interlocked my fingers with those of Famechon’s left hand. I then began to flex and bend his left wrist, fingers, and hand, with accompanying slow vertical arm lifts, all the while explaining to John what I was doing and why I was doing these actions.
From the beginning, even before we met, I had the idea of what was required in Famechon’s life if he ever was to recover (and I did not know if he would); I was firm in my thinking that if I did not try, then there was only one outcome: nothing would change. With this, I was also of the mind that he needed to be moving as much as possible.
In addition to this, the movement had to be complex and complicated. I also intuitively “knew” the movement had to be (as much as possible) self-initiated through his thinking. This meant I would initially move his limb, and I would then ask him to continue to move at his own continuing initiative.
This would mean, the neurons in John’s brain and body would be firing, and connections would be made. I had no evidence of this, but it certainly made sense to me.
I was also instinctively, very firm in the opinion that Famechon’s self-initiated thinking and moving had to be the brain-based driving engine that would help bring about the necessary neurological and neuromuscular connections that, and, ultimately, bring about changes in his severely incapacitated condition, to that of not being severely incapacitated.
I also intuitively understood that this self-initiated thinking and movement (on Famechon’s part) was the powerhouse that needed to create the complex neurological connections necessary to lead to neurological and neuromuscular connections and complex recovery improvements taking place.
Movement, especially self-activated movement, was the only way to access and influence the brain, which would then also bring about corresponding benefits to the body. The outcome would be that Famechon would hopefully recover and eventually return to the state that existed before his accident.
I had no idea if any of this would work. However, instinctively, it just seemed to make sense to me. It was better to try—and fail—than not try at all. This mode of thinking has expanded to state the following: “It is only when possibilities and potential are actively pursued that positive changes have the promise to take place.”
From an academic perspective, the most influential author and theory (from my university studies) was Johann Huizinga (1955). Huizinga was an academic who studied and wrote about play and children in his book: Homo Ludens, Man, the Player. Huizinga argued that movement was imperative if children were to develop as required. “Well then,” this must mean, as far as I was concerned, movement—especially complex multi-movements—was and is a universal imperative.