"Doctors are there to heal," he said, "not to give up."
     Kevin Monk, quoted in Sunday's Casper [Wyoming] Tribune Eagle, referring to doctors who advised his parents to "pull the plug" on their son.

Probably because of what I do for a living, and perhaps because I once beat seemingly impossible medical odds myself, I am an absolute sucker for stories of people who are given up on but who refuse to give up and recover. There are more of these stories than you might think, but Lindsey Erin Koroskob's account of Kevin Monk is, for my money, among the very best I've ever read.

Monk was a third-year medical student eight years ago when a large pick-up hit his midsize car directly on the driver-side door going at 55 miles per hour. While the-then 25-year-old suffered a traumatic closed brain injury, there was no direct trauma to his brain, Koroskob reported.

However, "the impact shook his brain to the point of destruction," she wrote." And with the trauma, Monk lost his memory."

But that's getting ahead of the story. In the immediate aftermath, he not only had no measurable brain function for 18 days, he spent three days in a coma. Unfortunately, some doctors told his folks to "just pull the plug," Monk said.

His mother, Janice told Koroskob, "We heard that for months," adding, "From every place we went, they told us he'd never be anything but a vegetable."

Not surprisingly, this makes Monk mad. "Doctors are there to heal," he said, "not to give up."

Life is not easy for Monk. When he awoke, he did not recognize the faces of people he knew and his memory was spotty. Even today his memory plays frustrating tricks on him. And while he lives independently, he has a caregiver.

He likens his memory to "a file cabinet where all the files have been moved and overturned and moved around so I can't get to them." Monk told Koroskob, "It's real bad, it upsets me too, big time, because just the knowledge that all the information that I've ever learned in my life is up here but I can't get to it."

But while his memory still comes in "flashes," there is one thing that he is certain of: "that he has a purpose for being here -- because God told him so," Koroskob writes.

"It took months for Monk to even be able to speak and then months after that to learn English again. But once he got it down, he told his family that while he was in coma he talked to God. It's one story Monk never forgets, and it never changes," Koroskob explains

"He said, 'My son, I'm not ready for you yet. You still have many things to do for us down there, and when it's your day, I'll bring you back home, but not yet,"' Monk said. This is Monk's daily reminder that no matter his circumstances, he has to help people."

And Monk has heeded the command. Every Tuesday he teaches a class at the Sierra Hills Assisted Living Community. Throughout the 30-minute session, "Monk made jokes about the wonderful Wyoming air and never stopped smiling," Koroskob observes.

"At the end of the class, he serenaded the group with 'God Bless America.' When he finished, they all stood and clapped."

But Kevin helps the residents in another, perhaps more important way.

"He brings a lot of comfort to the people at Sierra Hills because he tells them about heaven and how wonderful it is," Janice said. "He's made a big difference in a lot of people's lives."

Please send me your thoughts on this to daveandrusko@hotmail.com.