A Story of Resilience, Recovery, and the Need for Long-Term TBI Support

Matthew Carmichael’s journey is not your typical accident story—it’s a painful reminder of how trauma can come from the people closest to us.

It began in his senior year of high school when Matthew started dating a young woman with a history of emotional instability. As his parents, we sensed early on that something wasn’t right. They argued often, and we knew she struggled with serious behavior issues. But like many teenagers, Matthew was determined to make his own choices.

After graduation, instead of heading to college, Matthew moved in with her. What we didn’t realize at the time was that her own parents had already cut ties, having asked her to leave their home due to her violent outbursts. Once living together, the emotional abuse escalated into physical violence.

One night, in a fit of rage, she shoved Matthew from behind. He fell face-first into a concrete parking block. The impact was devastating—he lost all of his teeth and had to undergo full dental reconstruction. But that was just the beginning.

Not long after, Matthew suffered a traumatic brain injury (TBI) following another violent encounter. The injury was so severe he was hospitalized in critical condition with a major brain bleed. He couldn’t walk, talk, breathe, or eat on his own. He required a feeding tube and full respiratory support. It was a parent’s worst nightmare.

After weeks in rehab, he was released home under one condition: no contact with his abuser. This was in 2017. We hoped this would be the start of his recovery.

But like many TBI survivors, recovery wasn’t linear. Matthew began experiencing unpredictable seizures, sometimes collapsing without warning. At the time, I was working two jobs to make ends meet and couldn’t be there every second. One day, he fell in our kitchen and ended up back in the hospital—this time, doctors weren’t sure he would survive.

Miraculously, he pulled through. But he came home with far fewer abilities than before. Today, Matthew needs 24/7 care. He struggles with PTSD and social anxiety, especially around unfamiliar people. His physical strength is limited—he can’t stand for long, and we use a wheelchair for anything beyond a few steps.

He has some independence, but it’s minimal. And as his parents, we constantly worry about what happens when we’re no longer here to care for him.

The thought of Matthew spending his life in a nursing home—a place that isn’t built for young survivors like him—is heartbreaking. We believe he’s still here for a reason. He deserves more than just survival. He deserves a place where he can grow, connect, and thrive.

That’s why we believe so deeply in Villa Licci. A community like this would give us peace of mind, knowing that Matthew would not only be safe—but truly supported. A place designed for adults living with TBI, where residents can find independence within community, access critical services, and live with dignity and purpose.

Villa Licci isn’t just a project. For families like ours, it’s hope.

— Julia Carmichael, Matthew’s Mother

My name is Ryan Quick.  I grew up in Westfield, Indiana.  After high school, I went to Wabash College then Butler University, graduating in 2004 with a degree in Psychology.  After graduation I struggled for several years to find my way, but eventually I got a job working for Fathers and Families as an Education Specialist.  I helped young men (and women) pass the G.E.D. and obtain their high school diploma.  I found this to be very rewarding, and after three years there, I felt I had really found my calling.  I decided that I wanted to be a high school mathematics teacher.

In October of 1012, this all came to a crashing end one really stormy evening on my way home from work.  Going through an intersection my car hit a large puddle, hydroplaned, spun around, and collided with an oncoming truck.  I ended up at Wishard Hospital with a Traumatic Brain Injury.

Now my previous life, ambitions, and desires have been put aside.  My former friends have all moved on with their lives.  When I contact them on social media, I rarely hear back.  My parents and their friends are now the people upon whom I depend.  My only social outlets are church and Heads or Tails, a TBI social group that meets once or twice a month.

In the years since my accident I have been focused on recovery.  This has included all manner of therapies.  I now go to physical therapy, water therapy, art therapy, adaptive yoga, and activate brain and body therapy.  Though I still have significant left side impairment that renders me unable to walk, my improvement over the past 12 years motivates me to continue my therapy.

I share an apartment with another disabled gentleman.  We have staff assistance with some of the activities of daily living, but I am slowly becoming more independent.  I aspire to someday live in at Villa Licci, a community where TBI survivors with similar needs and concerns can thrive together as independently as possible.

In the summer of 2011, Andrea’s life was filled with the stereotypical activities of a Hoosier mom. She was married to the love of her life with a four-year-old daughter and enjoyed country music, her career, spending time with her family and friends, and training for an upcoming half marathon.

Drew was a high-achieving college student majoring in Biomedical Engineering at Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology. He was planning to apply to medical school with dreams of pediatric orthopedic surgery as an occupation. He was enjoying a successful athletic career as a starting safety on the football team and very involved with his fraternity.

Nic was always very active physically and in gifted classes at school. He participated in numerous sports as a child, including baseball, soccer, football, swimming, and wrestling. Nic played four years of varsity football and wrestling – winning wrestling sectionals for his weight class his junior year of high school.

On January 15, 1989, a wonderful, beautiful baby boy was born. It certainly did not take him long to start showing the world exactly how special he was. He decided that he had places to go and at nine months he was walking and exploring this beautiful planet.

Brigette was your typical 19-year-old college student without a care in the world. In her eyes, life was perfect. She was a solid student, having graduated Brebeuf Jesuit High School in Indianapolis. In addition to her academic success, she was a skilled artist, had played four years of high school basketball, and ran cross country and track.