Glenn considers himself the most fortunate person to be alive with the abilities he still possesses, after being involved in a serious childhood car accident.  

He has no problem with his mind which is remarkable after what his head has been through. So the physical limitations he has to live with fall into insignificance, as the mind is so much more powerful than the body.  

The spirit within Glenn is as strong as can be.  

Would you have the nerve to drive an electric wheelchair down a steep escalator?  

The world said no, but Glenn says go!

In Store Price: $AU19.95 
Online Price:   $AU18.95

ISBN:   978-1-921240-60-7
Format: Paperback
Number of pages: 111
Genre: Non Fiction/Autobiography

Cover: Clive Dalkins


Author: Glenn Ford 
Publisher: Zeus Publications
Date Published: 2007
Language: English


About the author    

Glenn Ford was born in England .  

He came to Australia at the age of nine, and completed years 4, 5 & 6 at a primary school in Ferntree Gully.  

To say too much more would be robbing his story… 




“Major head injuries,” said one of the ambulance officers as he and his partner lifted the stretcher into the ambulance.

“We’d better get him to Box Hill Hospital .”  

“Poor kid. Can’t be much more than twelve. Won’t have much of a life,” said the other ambulance officer. “The head injuries are massive. Must’ve landed on his head before falling onto his right side. The way those limbs are contorted, they’ll probably never be used again.”  


Where am I? What has happened? There’s no movement in my arms or legs. I’m scared. Total darkness surrounds me ... The body I control is in a horizontal position, but my sensors tell me nothing else. I will have to work this one out for myself. How do I do that?   I’ve always relied on my sensors. But if I have the power to control my body, finding out what’s going on shouldn’t be hard.  

This confusion I’m sure can be overcome. But I’m using all my brainpower and I‘m not able to work out what’s going on.                    

My unconscious state lasted nineteen weeks and two days, and during that time, about a month after my accident, my mother died. She was suffering from asthma and apparently the shock of my accident triggered that into a fatal happening. When most people had given up all hope of me coming out of my coma, amazingly enough my body which had been so lifeless started making small but encouraging movements. It was a very, very slow process, but being slow and steady, the gradual improvement was consistent.  

As I looked at my body after coming out of the coma I couldn’t understand what had happened. Firstly I was scared, beyond words, then totally confused. But as the confusion set in I realised I could, at least, still think logically.        

Those involved in my life at that time were amazed with my coming to. But my true mental state would remain a mystery to anyone else for a while longer, as I couldn’t vocalise my thoughts.   About a month after coming out of the coma, on my thirteenth birthday, my father said, “Trust Glenn, he wouldn’t miss out on anything. In England when we travelled overnight from Manchester to Cornwall , for our holidays, he never slept; afraid he would miss out on something.”                

The doctors told my family that physically I would never do anything again.

My father would also have realised that, after so long in an unconscious state, doing anything mentally again would probably be beyond me.  

Soon after I came out of the coma, my father told me about my mother’s death for which I blamed myself for quite a while. My father used to get really annoyed with me about that.  

On my birthday because of the injuries to my throat I was not allowed to eat anything, which would have meant no cake. Except for the ice-cream cake the hospital staff made me, which was delicious, as the ice-cream slid down my throat so easily.  

All the family came that day. It was a day of real celebration. My sister was eleven on that day, she had pinched my birthday but, it was good to be able to celebrate with her.                

As I was informed about what had happened during my accident I realised that those past five months, in coma, had been a blessing. My body would have needed rest, after such an accident, and even though the rest would have been laboured, it was still rest.              

I was told, ‘You swerved your bike and were thrown over the top of a car, landing on your head, and falling on to your right side.’    

I was confused as I looked at my disabled body, not knowing what would become of me. I was scared, even terrified, but these emotions did not have much time to sink in as the pain that engulfed my body, even though that pain was supposedly under control, was still devastating.  


A few days after my birthday I was transferred to a bigger city hospital. The surgery I required was not done at the suburban hospital which I had been taken to straight after the accident.   

Even though a tracheotomy tube was not needed while I was in coma, for breathing purposes, during my first lot of surgery at the city hospital a tube had to be inserted. It was placed in my neck to help hold my food tube open. This had collapsed, in an area just below my mouth, probably during the accident but maybe while I had been unconscious, through not being used.  

The surgeon cut open my chest and upper stomach to make sure there were no more collapsed areas in the oesophagus. It was a big cut as the surgeon inserted forty-one stitches.  

At a time when I was having a bath, soon after the surgery, a nurse counted them for me.       

That operation should not have affected my breathing patterns too much, but unfortunately it did, as I had major difficulties in that area after that. I started having major coughing fits causing loss of breath and choking. I was being fed intravenously at that time, but coughing and choking became more of a problem at a later date, especially after food or liquid had passed down my oesophagus.  


As the days in hospital went by, there was always encouragement offered, to me, by the hospital staff. It was difficult but I knew I couldn’t afford to let things get me down too much. After hearing those destructive words by the doctor my brain, which had not been affected by my time in coma, still allowed me to resolve; Circumstances will not get in my way of achieving what I want. Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about. Nobody’s going to tell me what to do. There was so much pain and discomfort in my physical being at that time, and I knew my mind would have to cope with this too. I knew that was not going to be a one-off thing. Of that I was sure. But I also knew achievement was possible for anyone who put their mind to it. I knew I would be facing an uphill battle. Could I win, or was I starting from too far behind? There was only one way to find out. 

There were many operations to stretch the food tube which kept collapsing a week or so, after each bout of surgery. The thing I hated about surgery was that I had to go without food for a few hours before an anaesthetic, and I loved my food.  

Then the surgeon realised there was no need to put me under anaesthetic, as he could lay me across my hospital bed with my head hanging over one side, and pass a thick roll of tubing down my throat, stretching the oesophagus, while I was awake. That was a little uncomfortable but at least I didn’t have to go without food, even though hospital food was not great.


For me, hospital was a time of real boredom, as you could only read so many books. I had no interest in the things the Occupational Therapist brought me to do as these things soon bored me – thinking myself superior. The mind challenge I needed was just not there. But when my body was strong enough to handle a little physiotherapy that interested me as I could see a definite goal to work toward. I probably set those goals higher than I could ever reach but at least they kept me on track to achieve what I could.  

Another thing that interested me while I was in my hospital bed was that religious ministers would come around and share parts of the Bible with me. One of these ministers and I got on really well. Father Monk and I would pray together and then joke and laugh.

Before my accident I had attended church. These ministers in the hospital, talked about healing, and even though they prayed with me, nothing seemed to happen. But when my disappointment was noticed, they all said the same thing.

“God will see you through. His grace is sufficient.” In reality, I wondered what those words meant. But I could not complain for God had already performed a miracle in my life, for to survive the accident I had was miraculous indeed.    

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