Nine years ago, it didn't seem like this would ever be possible.

"This place helps me get better. It's helping with my speech and my balance," Pakula explains, sitting at his desk wearing a royal blue scrub shirt. "I'm retraining my brain by working here."

In October 1999, Pakula was a stockbroker making a six-figure salary and was engaged to be married. An avid New York Yankees fan, Pakula also played first base on a local softball team. While sliding into base during a game, he cut his right ankle, but thought nothing of it.

Pakula started feeling pain in his groin area, but a doctor figured he pulled a muscle. He developed a fever and from there, things escalated. Pakula was taken to Staten Island University Hospital. His organs started failing. Exploratory surgery was done, but doctors didn't know what was wrong. Pakula was put on a respirator and into a drug-induced coma.

Three weeks into the coma, he coded.

"I went into cardiac arrest, my heart stopped beating," Pakula explains.

Once he was stable, an infectious disease doctor was brought in. The cut on Pakula's ankle somehow became infected and he was suffering from toxic shock syndrome (TSS). The rare bacterial infection is usually associated with the use of feminine hygiene products, but other risk factors for TSS include skin wounds and surgery.

After he was given antibiotics and started to improve, Pakula was transferred to the brain injury unit of Mount Sinai Medical Center in Manhattan. His family learned that when his heart stopped, his brain was deprived of air. When Pakula woke up after about three months, he couldn't speak or walk and his memory had been affected.

"Once he came out, we expected him to be back to Adam," recalls his wife, Cari Pakula, noting that he forgot aspects of his life including parts of their relationship and that he no longer wore glasses. "We had to slowly bring him back."

After a few months, Pakula was transferred to JFK Hartwyck at Oak Tree, a nursing and rehabilitation center in Edison, N.J. There, he continued to learn how to talk, walk and do other daily tasks during his several month stay.

He remembers the oral motor exercises that helped him speak his first words, "I want a cookie." He graduated from wheelchair to walker to cane before standing on his own.

Once back in his New Springville neighborhood, there was one thing he wanted to do - walk to Cari's house by himself. She lived nearby, but getting over curbs was an obstacle. One day, he showed up at her doorstep unexpectedly.

"That's when I knew he was getting better," explains Mrs. Pakula. "Every day, he does not quit. I wish I had one ounce of what he has, that motivation... He's an amazing person, that's why I never gave up on him."

For the past four years, Pakula has also worked with a fitness trainer to help him with balance, coordination and strength. Tony Capraro, owner of Without Limits in Bulls Head, remembers the first time he saw Adam - he could barely walk and his speech was hard to understand.

"Nobody gave him much hope. I took it as a challenge," Capraro says. "I saw some potential there."

In the beginning, they worked on his walking. Capraro put together obstacle courses and they worked on a treadmill. They also used free weights to establish coordination and balance. Now, Pakula can aggressively power walk and has completed two four-mile races. He still meets with Capraro each week to continue his progress.

"I'm just trying to make him the best he can be," Capraro notes. "I don't know what's going to be [in the future]. He's overshot every expectation."

Pakula speaks candidly about the last nine years. His life was put on hold, but is now complete. He married Cari in 2003 and has a 4-year-old son, Brandon. The Pakulas both credit part of Adam's success to his family: parents Toby and Steven, and his sister and brother-in-law, Jennifer and Gregg Kirschner, who were there every step of the way. He also refused to give up.

At times, Pakula tears up as he explains the obstacles he had to overcome. He also gets excited when speaking about his family and his love of the New York Yankees .

To help his short-term memory, Pakula connects Yankee players with a task to be completed. So if he has to go to the fourth floor at the hospital, he may think of Lou Gehrig (number four) to help him get there. When he meets someone new, he associates that person's name with a famous person's to help him remember.

"I'm still working on it every day," he says. "It's basically getting back my independence. You have to take everything with injuries in stages."

Volunteering at RUMC has helped him greatly with his memory, motor skills and socialization.

"He comes here and he offers the best," says Liza Simanovskaya, administrative director of Health Information Management Services. "He always wants to be active. He wants to be involved with department activities - and he entertains the staff by telling us jokes."

Pakula plans to write a book about his experiences so he can inspire others. But for now, he's taking things day by day. He knows he still has more obstacles to overcome.

Maybe one day he won't slur his speech anymore, and maybe he'll lose the shuffle in his step. But he's happy to have gotten this far, learning the greatest lesson of all.

"People take life for granted," Pakula says. "My philosophy in life is: 'life is beautiful.'"

Andrea Boyarsky is a features reporter for the Advance. She may be reached at boyarsky@siadvance.com