Editor’s Note: This is the last in a four-part series depicting the life of ISU golfer Tyler Swanson after a near-fatal car accident in May.

For ISU golfer Tyler Swanson, a gift from his dad is a constant reminder of the task ahead. After four hospitals and rehab facilities in seven months, Swanson needs only to look at his wrist for motivation.

“He gave me a yellow Lance Armstrong bracelet that says, ‘Livestrong’ on it,” Swanson said. “Right now, that is what I have to do.”

Tyler’s parents, Cal and Cindy, used to talk to doctors about how to get him to speak, walk and eat. Now, seven months later, they are talking to his academic adviser, the head athletic trainer, the associate athletic director and golf coach Jay Horton about his return to Ames for the spring semester. Tyler will take six credits and move back into his apartment with roommates John Charbonneaux, Jon Augustus and Curtis Foster.

Tyler thought he was ready to return to Ames in October, but his doctor and parents said October wasn’t realistic.

“Tyler has confidence that he can live on his own again, but to know where he has come from is a little scary,” Cindy said. “Ames is three hours away, and I am a little nervous leaving him alone that far away.”

When most students were moving to Ames for the fall semester, Tyler went into surgery to replace the front-right part of his skull that doctors removed the day after his accident. In the four-hour surgery, six small plates and 16 screws were used to replace his skull. Tyler was in a coma during all the pain that followed the accident. If anything in the recovery process hurt, it was the headache a week after the operation.

“My skin and my head hurt like hell,” Tyler said. “It was like they played tug-of-war with my head, and then all of sudden, part of my head is back in.”

With skull intact, Tyler focused solely on his therapy. He had to if he wanted to get back to Ames.

On this day of rehab, the “Today Show” is on in the empty waiting room at Work Fitness Center Genesis Plaza in Bettendorf, a 40-minute drive south from the Swanson home in Clinton. Instead of doing crosswords and reading books to occupy the time, Cindy watches Tyler tackle his therapy. It’s late Sept., and he has been at it for more than seven weeks.

It is 9 a.m. and Tyler has been up since 6. He already completed his one-hour speech therapy session. The room is filled with weightlifting machines, large rubber balls and a few older patients, some of whom Tyler knows by name. Karen, his physical therapist, enters and tells Tyler to remove shoes. After stretching, she puts all her weight on his left side, sustained the brunt of the damage in the accident. He goes as far as he can until she lets off. Karen says Tyler’s left side is already stronger than it was last week. She works the weaker parts repeatedly.

“Karen is just great,” Cindy said. “She just pushes and pushes him.”

Instead of a break, Karen tells Tyler to walk laps around the room. She instructs him how to use his left knee and ankle. After completing the laps, Karen has everything set up for a jumping exercise.

Three boxes, each one foot tall, sit in a row. Tyler climbs them one by one, hesitates and finally jumps. He lands awkwardly, staggering to regain his balance. Getting his feet to work together will take time.

With 10 minutes left, Tyler loses focus. He begins to stall his way out of the remaining jumps: “I am a 6-foot-4 white dude,” he jokes. “What is jumping going to help me with?”

With that, the physical therapy is over until tomorrow. Liz, Tyler’s occupational therapist, comes for the last hour of therapy with the latest edition of GolfSmith magazine. Tyler perks up. She points to a device that could help his left wrist when he gets far enough along in rehab to start taking full swings.

Liz disappears, then returns with a pitching wedge and three golf balls. Tyler looks disappointed.

“Too bad they are plastic.”

Liz cracks a smile. “Not today. This time they’re real.”

“Wow! I must be moving up in the world,” Tyler says.

That was September. Since then Tyler has been steadily improving. On Oct. 4, he moved into the Living Independently for Tomorrow program. Typical three-hour days now last six. The program teaches patients to cook their own meals and think through things. Worksheets improve cognitive thinking.

“Everyone says it will get me back faster,” Tyler said of the program that runs daily from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. “I will do whatever it takes.”

In Ames, Tyler will continue therapy with the ISU athletic training staff and work with a speech therapist at Mary Greeley Medical Center.

He celebrated his 21st birthday in Ames during the ISU-Kansas football game on Oct. 30.

“There was no other place he wanted to be,” Cal said.

He spent the day in his grandparents’ motor home and joined golf teammates to sell programs before the game. Then, he cheered on the men’s and women’s basketball teams at the Cyclone Tip-Off.

Another good day came in mid-October. Tyler was sitting in the clubhouse at Clinton Country Club talking to relatives when, one by one, his teammates entered and greeted him with huge smiles, hugs and handshakes. Seeing them all while school was in session was a huge surprise. Horton arranged the unexpected visit. The surprise coincided with the “Tee it up for Tyler” golf outing to help offset the families’ medical expenses.

Rick Forest, a family friend who helped organize the benefit, said the golf outing, dinner and silent auction raised more than $33,000 for the Tyler Swanson Supplemental Needs Trust.

“The friends and teammates from ISU who showed up really was the icing on the cake,” he said.

Dr. Conway Chin, medical director of physical medicine and rehab services at Genesis Medical Center in Davenport, said getting Tyler back in a college setting where he can interact with other students will be a good thing.

“Getting him to Ames is taking priority right now in our short-term goals,” Chin said. “His long-term goal remains to be a return to competitive golf.”

Tyler’s brain injury severely affected the control, strength, coordination and flexibility of his left arm and leg. Like most people with brain injuries, he tries to pay attention but is easily distracted — like when he was jumping off boxes at therapy.

“He is not less intelligent, but it’s more difficult for him to utilize his intelligence,” Chin said.

For now, Tyler’s room at his apartment is clean and quiet. Golf posters and flags from golf holes with dozens of autographs cover the walls. A dusty picture of his family sits above his TV.

Tyler can’t wait to be back in the swing of things; not being able to compete eats at him. Thinking about walking on campus and attending class makes him smile.

Horton chooses his words carefully, when he talks about Tyler’s potential.

“Every statement he makes is confident,” Horton said. “He has achieved every goal he has set in life. I am convinced he could be one of the greatest success stories in golf. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

Tyler said it best on a trip to St. Louis with Cal. They were going to watch the golf team play in the Missouri Bluffs Challenge. It was quiet before Tyler spoke up.

“Dad, I kind of like my life,” he said. “I was on top of the world. I got knocked down to the bottom. I am on my way back and I am going to appreciate it more.”

Cal felt blessed, proud and amazed at the same time.

“I don’t know if I would have had the courage to go through what he has gone through,” Cal said. “He has taken it head on and feels he will conquer it.”