His attitude is everything

**CORRECTION: Jacob Baquir’s name was misspelled, and he should have been described as an occupational therapist.**

Matt Oka awakened, shocked, at 7:30 a.m.

Literally shocked. A physical therapist attached wires to his arms and shoulders, sending electrical currents designed to stimulate and strengthen his weakened muscles.

Daily stimulation and exercise has strengthened his left tricep muscles, so Oka puts up with discomfort and tries to avoid negative thoughts.

“I was really outgoing and always an active person, and I was even a lot worse when I first got here,” he said. “I want to get better, and I try when I go out there every day. Some of these people [here] seem so down and depressed, it’s almost depressing to associate with someone who doesn’t want to get better.”

Oka, 21, broke his neck when he hit a sandbar diving into the ocean just south of the Balboa Pier in Newport Beach on the Fourth of July.

An accomplished swimmer, the 6-foot-3 Oka would have returned as a senior to complete his education at USC a couple months later.

Instead, he’s 50 pounds lighter from his one-time weight of 185, is confined to a wheelchair, has limited use of his arms, no sensation and little movement in his fingers and is dependent on his family for the everyday activities most people take for granted.

He’s also armed with information and ready to move on with his life.

After spending nine-and-a-half weeks at Hoag Memorial Presbyterian Hospital in Newport Beach following the accident, Oka was transferred to Rancho Los Amigos Rehabilitation Center in Downey last month to begin a program of physical, occupational and recreational therapy.

Jacob Bacquir is the therapist who delivered the wake-up call, and he laughed as Oka recounted the experience during therapy later that day.

“This is the torture machine. It’s called electronic stimulation. He woke me up at 7:30 this morning attaching these all over my arms, and it like, basically, just shocks you.

“I didn’t really have to get up until 10 a.m., but when he’s shocking me, I obviously can’t go back to sleep.”

It’s harder to deliver those one-liners when one side of your vocal chords is paralyzed, but Oka manages.

The chords were damaged when he was intubated at Hoag after he developed severe pneumonia, but they may come back in time, he said, with breathing exercises that build up his diaphragm muscles and increase lung capacity.

Oka understands and can explain what has happened to him, what his treatment entails, and what he can expect in the future, using detailed medical jargon.

“I always ask about everything that’s going on,” he said.

“The more you know, the more it’s going to be able to help me in getting better.”

Julie and Dennis Oka left their Costa Mesa home to be near their son, and are staying at a facility for family members of patients at the center.

Julie Oka described her son as “an amazing kid with an amazing attitude” (Matt said she’s lying) and said he receives a steady stream of visitors daily.

Friends, family, the respiratory therapist who treated him at Hoag and the surgical technician who assisted in the emergency surgery the day of the accident are just a few of the people offering support.

Joe Griskonis, the surgical tech, had about four minutes left to go on his shift at Hoag on July 4 when he received the call that Oka had been brought in and he was needed to assist in the surgery.

Matt Oka’s attitude was a positive one from the minute he was brought in, Griskonis said. He showed more concern for everyone around him than for himself.

He was apologizing to his parents, and even teased one of the nurses about owing him $30 for the board shorts she ruined when she had to cut them off him.

Oka said the reason Griskonis keeps coming around is because he (Griskonis) was there when the nurse cut the shorts off, and “it was love at first sight.”

Griskonis said Oka is a guy he’d hang out with even if they hadn’t met under these circumstances, and he considers him an inspiration to everyone around him.

Julie Oka said other hospital staff expressed similar feelings about her son.

“Suzie, one of the emergency room nurses, used to visit him all the time when she wasn’t even on duty.

“She said she didn’t visit him because of his injury, but because he’s a great guy.”

When his friends aren’t visiting, Oka stays in touch and keeps up on the latest gossip through e-mail.

Rancho Los Amigos offers patients a computer lab where they are able to use voice-activated software to navigate the Internet and open and respond to e-mail by commanding the mouse to perform certain functions.

The software is about $200 and allows people with disabilities to be more independent.

“How cool is this thing?” Oka asked, as the cursor jumped all around the screen doing what he told it to do.

Oka is due to be discharged from the rehabilitation center Nov. 6.

He plans to move back home with his parents and begin an intensive program of rehabilitative, and possibly restorative, therapy.

Amy McKnight, a social worker at Rancho Los Amigos, is part of the team working with Oka, and said balancing hope with acceptance is difficult to manage for patients with spinal chord injuries.

“The key is not to give up hope, and look to the future, but focus on the present,” she said.

Oka has said he will not return to school for at least two years, choosing instead to focus his attention on working to get as well as he can.

There are programs he is looking into locally, like Project Walk in Carlsbad, as well as The Miami Project to Cure Paralysis, which is a clinical trial and research program in Miami.

For now, though, little things like being able to brush his teeth or pick up a cup are considered victories.

Because he has wrist movement, Oka is able to use what looks like a wrist brace to help him move his fingers.

The device transfers the energy of being able to use his wrist into developing a grip with his fingers.

He can imitate a “pinch” to pick up something small or narrow, or open his fingers wider to hold a cup.

“It’s kind of ugly-looking, but they said it’s helpful for a lot of patients,” Oka said.

“If my fingers never come back, at least I have this as an option.”

The rehabilitative therapy process is expensive, and the Okas have limited insurance.

A fund has been established in Matt’s name with the National Transplant Assistance Fund and Catastrophic Injury Program.

To help, call (800) 642-8399 or go to www.catastrophicfund.org.

SUE THOENSEN may be reached at (714) 966-4627 or at sue.thoensen@latimes.com.