An Army family’s battle after a roadside tragedy

Kayla Burns stared at her phone. Her husband’s location pin had been frozen on a rural Missouri road for 15 minutes. No answer when she called. Desperate, she dialed the gas station nearby.

“Is there a man there with a blue motorcycle?” she asked.

Then she heard it—the clerk’s voice in the background: “Is the motorcycle that got hit blue?”

“That’s how I knew Brian was in an accident,” Kayla said.

Brian Burns, an Army chief warrant officer and father of two little boys with a third on the way, had been riding his motorcycle to training. The collision left him with two brain bleeds, internal injuries and fractures to his skull and pelvis.

Kayla sleeping across Brian's hospital bed.

Brian was intubated at the scene and flown to a trauma center in Springfield, Missouri. Two chaplains and a trauma physician met seven-months-pregnant Kayla—also an Army soldier—at the hospital. Brian was critically injured and headed into brain surgery.

“I felt useless. I felt helpless,” she said. “My husband is hurt and there’s nothing I can do.”

When Kayla grasped the severity of Brian’s injuries, a chilling thought gripped her: she might be raising “three little Brians” alone.

But that first night—after hours of surgery—Kayla found a flicker of hope. A nurse in Brian’s ICU explained the ventilator: “If it’s brown, it’s Brian. If it’s blue, it’s the machine,” Kayla recalled.

Before heading home to their children, 3-year-old Jamison and 1-year-old Jak, she bent down to whisper goodnight. The screen glowed blue. All machine.

Then her friend gasped. “He heard you! Look at the ventilator!”

Kayla turned. It was brown. Brian was breathing on his own.

Brian laying in a hospital bed.

“God winks”

In those early days, physicians offered little hope for recovery, Kayla said. She watched as his medical team rounded multiple times a day and tested his neurological reflexes. Nothing.

“He would squeeze my hand, but never theirs,” Kayla said. “Day three or four, I heard them in the hall saying he was unresponsive.”

Kayla asked them to come in. She lifted her hand toward Brian.

“Brian, hold my hand,” she commanded.

Brian reached up and locked fingers with her.

From that day forward, Kayla was part of Brian’s rounds. Other small signs followed. Brian opened his eyes. He wiggled his toes.

“I called them God winks,” Kayla said. “God was saying, ‘Hang in there. He’s going to be all right.’”

Weeks passed before Brian had a chance of being all right. He received a tracheostomy to help him breathe and a feeding tube for nutrition. He came off the ventilator during his three weeks at the hospital but still needed oxygen through his trach. He couldn’t eat, talk, walk or think clearly.

While Brian was accepted to an out-of-state rehabilitation hospital known for treating traumatic brain injuries, Kayla toured nearby Select Specialty Hospital – Springfield.

“I want the best for my husband, but don’t want to move him where I can’t watch him,” she told the team there. With two young children at home, proximity mattered.

One of her tour guides was a veteran. Other veterans worked there, too.

“That means a lot to us,” Kayla said.

Brian transitioned to Select Specialty Hospital – Springfield, where a physician-led, multidisciplinary team built a plan to help him regain independence before Kayla gave birth.

Best birthday gift

The first few days, respiratory and speech therapists worked on exercises to strengthen his throat muscles and control his tongue—crucial for eating again.

Three days after admission, Brian hit two milestones: he ate ice chips and tried a speaking valve for the first time. The valve attached to his trach and pushed air through his vocal cords, enabling speech. Brian struggled and managed only hello.

Kayla’s birthday fell that weekend. She called the hospital that night to check on Brian, as she always did before bed.

“He’s been talking,” the nurse said.

“Talking?” Kayla asked.

The nurse took the phone to Brian.

“He said, ‘I love you,’” Kayla said. “That was the best birthday present ever.”

From there, Brian kept improving. Soon he was eating applesauce, pudding and yogurt. He sat on the edge of his bed for therapy, moving his arms and legs, reaching and leaning and learning to transfer safely. He washed his face and brushed his teeth.

Cognitive therapy was crucial because of his brain injury. Brian doesn’t remember the accident or early hospital weeks, and stringing words together was hard. Therapy included word find, memory and thought organization exercises, such as identifying four words that fit together.

Brian knew he was making progress when he could “carry on a conversation, eat on my own and sit up on my own.”

Because of his injuries, Brian couldn’t put weight on his right leg for six weeks. Eleven days after admission, he “stood like a flamingo” for the first time, Kayla said, as therapists steadied him. He stood twice that day, one minute each.

Transition to inpatient rehabilitation

Over the next week, Brian’s strength and balance continued to improve. He could eat, talk and breathe on his own. His trach was gone.

He transitioned to Select Medical Rehabilitation – Springfield — now CoxHealth Rehabilitation Hospital — an inpatient rehabilitation unit within Select Specialty Hospital – Springfield.

Every day involved several hours at the gym. A few days after admission, cleared to stand on his right leg, Brian took his first steps with a walker.

Because two toddlers waited at home, therapists tailored many activities to the life he wanted to return to. Brian practiced getting up and down from the floor, changing diapers and bending to pick things up. He navigated hurdles with his walker and improved his coordination by throwing a ball back and forth to Kayla.

One week later, able to walk 560 feet with a walker, Brian returned home to the delight of his little boys. Three weeks later, he was in the delivery room when Kayla gave birth to Johnny.

Today, Brian continues working toward the life he knew before the accident. He no longer needs the walker—a major milestone in his recovery. He can pick up the kids, give Johnny his bottle and help with cleaning and cooking.

The Burns have two pigs, five goats and seven chickens.

“I go out every morning and feed them,” Brian said.

More therapy lies ahead to ease shoulder pain and rebuild strength, but Brian is grateful. He and Kayla returned to Select Specialty Hospital—this time without a walker—to thank the team that guided his recovery, including the physician, Dr. Jesse Neeley, a veteran, who orchestrated his rehabilitation.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done,” Brian told his care team. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

*Dr. Neeley and his team now care for patients at CoxHealth Rehabilitation Hospital.

Brian and his sons at a birthday party.
Brian and his son playing outside on a slide.