Account Holder:	Norman Mann
Bank:	ABSA BANK
Branch Name:	Booysen, Johannesburg
Branch Code:	334105
Account Number:	3330144555
Reference:	DONOR’S NAME

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*** DON'T FORGET TO READ NORMAN'S LATEST RANGER STORIES ***

LATEST STORY .... READ BELOW

• >>>>>>>>>>> My Introduction to the Bush - (21 Nov 2011)


• >>>>> A Rugged Ranger Remembers (18th March 2011)


• >>> Million and the Elephant (May 2010)


• >> A lioness called Scar-neck and her two sub-adult cubs


• > Lion Story

 

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“He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother”

This is not my story. I write this story because he can’t.

Qualified Professional Hunter, Game Ranger, Educator, Commercial Pilot, Soldier, Patriot, Husband and Father. A man who lived to its extreme has his life changed inexorably forever while in a strange land and whilst doing the most mundane chore.

Based out of Johannesburg he travels the world. This time he is in the Far East promoting South Africa its Lodges and its wildlife. He works closely with the South African Tourism board in Japan and is passionate about South Africa and his work with “African Anthology”. On this occasion he has been in Japan for his company “African Anthology” attending travel expo’s meeting with adventure tourism travel agents and Japanese Travel Indaba’s. And then disaster strikes.

This is his story and he’s my brother.

Not too long ago you could have been a visitor to Sabi Sabi in the Kruger National Park or Mvuu lodge in Malawi, or maybe a safari in the Luanga valley in Zambia. And if you were, perhaps it was me who was your guide. I am Norman Robert Mann and I am 42 years of age.

The African bush is my life. I can tell you what that soft whistle is when you listen to it in the middle of the night or the quiet bark or loud huff from the water. I can tell you why a marabou stork’s legs are white. Every bird sound you hear, every smell, I know intimately. Which snakes you can touch and which ones you should not. I am so tuned to the African Bush, I am almost apart of it. I have been this way from a very early age.

I love Africa and she has treated me well. It never crossed my mind that one day I would not be able to be a part of it and that I would not be able to see Africa perhaps ever again. Not because I am away abroad forever but because I was in Osaka, Japan when I sat down to enjoy a business dinner with Japanese clients and I ate a meal that caused the immediate swelling of my throat. This swelling was aggressive and rapid. Within minutes I was unable to breathe. Fortunately, Takashi my Japanese friend realised what was happening and immediately called an ambulance. In Japan, city emergency response services are stationed within 5 minutes of any location and the closest ambulance was dispatched and arrived within minutes. I stepped into the ambulance but barely being able to breath. While in the ambulance, I collapse, my heart stops and unbeknown to me, anaphylactic shock is setting in. Everything went dark and in effect I was dead. Emergency response personal gave me a tracheotomy to open the airway passage while others were taking action to start my heart again. The brain requires oxygen to function so the time delay was critical. In my case, it really was too late.

Seconds later I am woken by Stuart, my brother. I cannot not understand it, why the hell is he here? A just moment ago I was at dinner, oh crumbs, what’s that noise? What’s happening? Where am I? I can feel my heart pounding and why can I not see or move? What’s happening? I hear Stuart, he is calling me from far away. “Norman, Norman can you hear me”

I realise that I am in Critical Care but I can hear. Stuart explains to me the sequence of events that have changed my life. I was in fact in a coma for a week before he and Wayne Pritchard, arrive in Japan from Tanzania and South Africa. For me it was seconds. The doctors believed that due to the extensive global brain damage, I would be vegetative for life. Stuart did not tell me this. Only he knew that I could hear him because I respond to him by the smallest nod. I still don’t understand what’s happened to me as to make the smallest movement requires all my energy and I can’t see. I feel the tracheotomy pipe in my throat and hear the breathing apparatus keeping me alive.

A week passes by and my left lung collapses. I have no energy making me withdraw from communicating with Stuart. The doctors still insist that I am vegetative and they convey this to Stuart. Frustrated, he tells them that I am communicating but they shake their heads and move on. Stuart moves close to my ear. He asks, pleads for me to fight this thing, to find the energy and hold on for the family and together we can beat this thing. For the first time, I manage to cry. I cry, Stuart cries. The doctors walk in as this happens and now they know that I am not totally vegetative.

Progress starts and I start to heal rapidly. After two weeks the tracheotomy is removed and I start to breathe through my mouth. The left lung inflates and I get moved to high intensive care. Day, night or time mean nothing to me. I still cannot see.

Stuart leaves for South Africa and my youngest brother John, arrives to take over. He should not be here as he too is suffering with a serious ailment. John stays with me for two weeks. He encourages me, he entertains me, he is with me for twelve hours a day. I know that seeing me in this condition is causing him stress and just exasperating his own condition.

By now My wife Sue, who stayed with our children and quite rightly stayed in South Africa until I am deemed stronger, arrives after two weeks to relieve John and to monitor my progress so that NetCare911 can repatriate me back to South Africa. Sue is with me in the hospital for three weeks all the while assisting with the physio and other exercises. I know that Sue is struggling terribly with this and I can only imagine the terrible insecurities that she must have been feeling.

Eventually NetCare911 take me home. They provide a doctor and a nurse for the trip and I come home to South Africa via commercial airline. I can’t walk, talk, move freely and I am blind......

3 months since my ordeal and progress is slow, but there is progress. For three months Sue is under tremendous pressure. Her life has changed. She runs me to and from hospitals, physio sessions and all the while trying to have a normal life with 2 young children to care for. I am no longer in a hospital but I continue to receive physiotherapy as I am still blind and cannot move my arms freely. I can walk although badly and I can talk but you will have to listen carefully to understand what I am saying.

6 months My wife was unable to cope with our young family and with the enormity of dealing with me on a day to day basis so I have gone to spend time with my Mother and her husband, Guido on their farm outside of Nelspruit. I can readily get the therapy I require in Nelspruit.

I have spent many months with my Mother on her farm and she has driven me to and from the physio sessions. She is 63 and petite but despite her tiny stature, has managed to practically carry me up and down stairs, bath, feed and take care of all my basic needs.

18 months It is now a year and a half since my Japanese Indaba and the accident. I have returned home from my Mother to my family and home in Johannesburg. I am still blind. I have been through physiotherapy, speech therapy and ozone therapy. I have had an operation on both hands to try and alleviate the spasm and claw hand that was developing. My back has been in spasm for most of the year and a half. There has also been pain, tears, compassion and love. In all of this I have discovered new friends, found renewed love in my family and made progress albeit slow. But most of all “African Anthology” have stood by me and my family all this way.

Thank you

Written by Stuart Cogan “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother”

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