“He was furious about 9/11,” JT Doody’s mother and caregiver recalled about her son’s deployment, “There was no talking him out of it.”

On February 3, 2008, JT deployed to Iraq. Over the next three months, he completed combat missions across Fallujah, writing letters back home to his mother to keep her updated all along the way.

On March 7th of that year, JT turned 24 years old. Beaming with pride, he called home to let his mother know that he’d been awarded a combat action ribbon.

Two days later, JT and his fellow Marines found themselves engaged in a vicious gun battle. A sniper caught JT in his crosshairs. He was shot multiple times, first in the right thigh, then his calf, then his shin. The final bullet traveled up his leg and tore through flesh and nerves. The bullet hole was the size of a man’s fist.

Miraculously, JT survived. And over time, his body and mind began to heal from his brush with death. He even began the next chapter of his life by entering law school.

But the worst was yet to come.

Inside JT’s body, unbeknownst to him or even his doctor, a bacterial infection was growing around the lining of JT’s heart. Less than a year after returning home, a mass of bacteria broke loose, traveled to his brain, and triggered a series of strokes that caused him to slip into a coma.

His mother recalled seeing JT’s x-rays, “It just looked like somebody salt-and-peppered his brain.” The results left JT with severe brain injuries, quadriplegia, and cognitive blindness.

JT’s body and hands were swollen and his organs were failing. “I didn’t recognize him,” his mother told us recalling that dark time. He was on full life support. The doctors told his family he would never wake up. But his mother refused to give up. “I knew my son was still in there.”

Over the next three weeks, JT’s mother remained by his side. Day in and day out. Night after night.

She spoke to him constantly, hoping for any reaction at all. “One day, I asked him if wanted to watch a TV show and suddenly, he said ‘No.’”

The entire unit came running. Everyone was in tears.

Later that night, JT spoke again. “He told me I was going to have a messed up son,” his mother recalled. “I told him I didn’t care.”

The road of recovery has been long and brutal. As JT’s full-time caregiver, his mother tries her best to give him a normal life. Seven years in, they still travel, go out to eat, and host football parties every Sunday. But she is deeply worried about his future.

“I’m going to age and JT will still need to be cared for,” she explained. “The hardest part of our lives is that I literally have to do everything for another human being. He can’t feed himself, turn on his light, or even his TV.”

Reflecting on the future, she can’t help but see dark clouds on the horizon. “Although I am in good shape, I am only going to be continue to age while JT will still need to be cared for.”