Fourteen years old, paralyzed from the neck down, Blair Williams was near death.

With a trachea in her throat, she couldn't talk. She remembers at one point, doctors telling her parents, "She's brain dead."

Blair thought otherwise.

"Huh? I'm right here," she wanted to shout.

Nothing came out.

Somehow, at some point, she found the strength to open her eyes.

Good thing.

"They came in to unplug me from life support, and I happened to wake up," she said, smiling.

That was 31 years ago. A mysterious virus nearly killed her.

The teenager, given a second lease on life, would make a slow recovery. She would remain hospitalized for months. She would not walk again. It would not be easy.

But with the help of a physical therapist named Gary Bartoo, she would fight back.

For two years, they worked together on regaining mobility, rebuilding Blair's arm and upper body strength. She spent up to six hours a day in therapy, lifting weights, practicing moving from her wheelchair to another chair. He encouraged, she dug in. He cajoled, she pushed.

By the time she left his practice, she felt strong, independent, confident.

She couldn't walk, confined to a wheelchair, but she had her life back.

Blair would graduate from high school and college, earn two degrees in arts administration, and communications and public relations, establish a career. She would move to Sacramento, Calif., and later Helena, Mont. She would marry and start a family.

More than three decades later, Williams still credits Bartoo with giving her the hope and drive to endure, despite being paralyzed.

His expectations were kind, but high. His treatment, steady, strong.

For Blair, it worked.

"Gary was always such an amazing motivator," she said.

Thirty years later, she and Bartoo are back together.

Older, sure, but the same connection that sparked success remains.

Blair and her husband Jim recently returned Coeur d'Alene to raise their daughter, Logan, and naturally, Blair turned to Gary Bartoo for physical therapy.

"There's been no physical therapist that's been able to stand up to him," she said, smiling.

Bartoo was pleased to be reunited with his former patient

"I thought the world of her back then. That hasn't changed," he said.

"Somebody who's gone through what she went through, you work with somebody long enough, you get pretty attached to them."

He's glad to see Blair continues to set high, but reasonable goals.

"It's a good thing to see Blair motivated to want to get better at what she's doing," he said.

Her twice-a-week routines, an hour each, vary with resistance and free weights, ropes, stretching and balance balls. Gary will have her try and stand, bearing weight through her limbs to improve bone health and reduce tightness. She uses a rehab tool called a "Body Blade," that improves stability within the joints or the trunk

Engaging the core is critical.

"What we're trying to do, as best we can, is go from one side to the other, so she can attempt to balance out."

It's working, he says, and Blair gets the credit.

"She's regained a lot, with a lot of hard work," he said.

31 years ago

Blair Williams was your typical teen growing up in the Hayden Lake/Dalton Gardens area. An eighth-grader at Canfield Middle School, she was active, athletic, a swimmer and a good student when she came down with a headache during spring break 1981.

But this was not your ordinary headache.

Her mom noticed she was getting lethargic, slow. Her motor skills were dropping. They headed to Kootenai Memorial Hospital.

There, Blair was feeling worse and noticed a hypersensitivity.

"Even the clothes on my body just stung," she said. "They couldn't figure out why."

Blair was frightened.

"At one point, the nurse slapped me because I was crying," she said.

Blair remained in the hospital and during the night, her brain swelled and her lungs filled with fluid and collapsed.

She was rushed to Sacred Heart and there, remained in a coma for four and a half weeks.

Doctors could not determine the cause, other than an unknown virus.

"They told my family that I was brain dead," she said.

The state, she recalled, was pushing her parents to have their daughter institutionalized.

Dan and Joann Williams said no.

Finally, fortunately, their daughter woke up.

She couldn't move.

She would not walk again.

But she would eventually go home.

"Not only did I get to come home, but I got to come to Gary Bartoo," Blair said.

She was in rough shape when she finally began therapy. The effects of the virus, the brain swelling, the collapsed lung, it all affected her central nervous system. She could not feed herself.

"She did not have very good mobility," Bartoo recalled.

"When you have a viral situation like this, you kind of roll the dice. You don't know what you're going to get," Bartoo recalled.

The therapy was difficult.

He always told her she was doing well, that he was proud of her, that she would be ready for the prom.

"You're always shooting high on a rehab project," Bartoo said.

Her parents tried to help by leaving her on her own.

She recalled telling them later on, "If you taught me anything, you taught me independence."

Gradually, she regained use of her arms. She studied. She learned. She graduated. She pushed and pushed and pushed.

Gary was not then and is not today surprised at how Blair never gave up.

"Blair is who she is," he said.

He believed she could persevere that she could handle what it would take to regain as much use of her body as possible.

Blair did too.

"For me, it was just about being home, then I'm fine," she said.

She lives today with mid-chest paralysis. She can drive, use her arms, transfer herself. She can make dinner and look after Logan and have a career.

"Functionally, she's at a pretty high level for her condition," Bartoo said.

Blair Williams has limited functions because of her illness, so they focus on maintaining and improving upper body strength. Lately, she has noticed sensory changes and can feel hot and cold.

Bartoo said the therapy gets harder, not easier.

"This is a condition that you really want to be consistent with," he said. "It's really like any athlete who is training. This is full-time life training. And you have to stay with it to be at the top of your game. You're in that human race and you need to win it."

The 45-year-old Williams said there are days the therapy is painful. There are days she doesn't want to do it - but she does.

"If you're not wanting that, you need somebody like Gary to remind you why you have to do it," she said.

During a recent therapy session, her husband of 22 years, Jim, and daughter Logan watched.

Jim said his wife is one determined, strong-willed individual.

"Even though the disability came out of blue, she just took on the challenge and has done it very well," he said.

Logan, wide-eyed, watched mom exercise but had worries of her own.

"Mommy, every day my pants keep falling down and I can't pull them up. I need a belt," she said, laughing.

Her parents laughed, too.

Williams, grinning, said she'll likely be with Bartoo for therapy for the rest of her life.

Which isn't a bad thing.

Life, she says, is good.

"A lot of it has to do with having someone like Gary around," she said.