A Date!

Today was a milestone day!  Tim and I had a date.  We actually went to see a movie.  Now I know you are thinking, big deal.  But for us it is a big deal.  We don't go on dates.  We go to doctor appointments, therapy, personal trainer and the grocery store.  But today we had a date!

I have been off for winter break these last couple of weeks.  And what a simply glorious break it has been. We have had time to spend with our family and friends, relax and be a little lazy. But today was a little different.  I know that people go the the movies all the time, but we don't. Tim having suffered a traumatic brain injury, movies aren't always the easiest thing to do.  We have unsuccessfully tried it in the past.  Depending on the type of movie, the actions, sounds and activity on the screen can be a problem.  People with brain injuries have a difficult time concentrating with all the massive amounts of stimulation going on. We have always treaded very lightly where movies are concerned.  So I was pleasantly surprised when I suggested we go to see this movie and my husband agreed.

However, I almost thought we weren't going to make it through the coming attractions.  They were loud and disjointed and Tim leaned over and said he thought we should leave.  I calmed him down and said that the movie we were seeing was not an action movie and we should just give it a couple minutes.  We did and I am happy to say that Tim is very glad that we stayed and watched the movie.  He really, really enjoyed it.  You see, he had read the book and had mentioned that he would like to see the movie when it came out.  So today when the opportunity presented itself, I couldn't have been happier that it ended up being such a success!  We even stopped and had a bite to eat afterwords!  

What a pleasant end to a great couple of weeks off and a wonderful accomplishment...sitting through an entire movie (that was not being shown on our TV) and actually enjoying it...just the two of us on a date!

The Twelve Days of Christmas

Since my husband has survived his crash and come home, he has worked ever so hard to bring back a sense of being normal that most people naturally have.  It is obvious that he will never really be like everyone else again.  While one arm is still good and functioning, the other is in a transitional mode (for life).  Tim is a trooper though.  He really tries to use it as much as he possibly can.  However, he still gets stuck with trying to get dressed.  

With only the use of one arm and the injury to his hip, he cannot bend forward enough to get his shoes on and put his pants on.  Yes he did go through therapy and learn how to use all those gadgets that they have to assist in this area.  And yes, he did successfully get himself dressed a couple of times using those gadgets.  But, if he did this everyday, it would be lunch time before he got one leg into his pants leg, let alone two. So I do have to help him get dressed and undressed every day.  

So I know you are asking, what does this have to do with the Twelve Days of Christmas?  Now you know how mundane getting dressed can be and me being me, I always breeze into his room in the morning usually singing.  Yes, the dreadful singing of whatever has popped into my head at the moment.  This morning, the song was ... ready for it... the Twelve Days of Christmas!  Poor Tim, he just laid in his bed snarling.  Now, I bet you did not know that the Twelve Days of Christmas could be an interactive song.  Sure it is!  As I was helping him put on his socks... On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me, a partridge in a pear tree, then two turtle doves, three french hens, four calling birds, then to my surprise, Tim chimed in ... five golden rings!!!!  I continued on with all the verses, getting his pants on, shoes on, shirt on, out of bed and into his wheelchair.  And each and every time I got to, five golden rings, Tim sang the part!  Soon we got to the twelfth day of Christmas and he was dressed and the song was done.  I told Tim that now we know how long it takes for him to get dressed ... as long as it takes to sing the Twelve Days of Christmas!  We both had a good chuckle out of this one!  It was a good morning and so far, a pretty good day.  And now that we are in the holiday mood, we are off to do a little Christmas shopping!

The Artist

My husband, Tim, was a police officer.  Of course, he is retired now.  However, prior to his accident and while he was still actively working, he held several positions on the job.  They ranged from patrolman, training officer, accident investigator, detective and sketch artist.  One of his favorite jobs was being a sketch artist.  Actually one of  his favorite things is art.  He took classes in high school and even studied at the Art Institute of Chicago.  He has painted some pictures, but he liked charcoal and drawing the best.  (I even have an unfinished drawing of me!)

He originally took his first class when he was working at his first police department.  They sent him to a school in Wisconsin.  He became that department's composite artist.  Later when he joined the police department in Arlington Heights, they sent him to a school at Northwestern.  He was good previously, but he became really good after the school at Northwestern.  (In my opinion.)

When our kids were young, he went to one of their classes to talk about being a police officer.  (My husband was a one man show, between his career and playing the bagpipes!)  He had one of the children get up and and describe someone in the classroom.  When he was finished, he showed the picture to the class and the children were amazed.  It looked exactly like one of their classmates.  He gave it to the child as a souvenir.

What he drew did help catch several criminals.  In fact his police department lent him out to Chicago.  However, Tim was and still is very humble.  He would say to me that it is not his pictures that are good, it's how good his witness was.

Tim was right handed.  Since his accident, he does not have use of his right hand anymore.  It really did not take him too long to learn to use his left hand.  I have always told him that he was a "closet" lefty.  His printing is beautiful, although his signature is a little shaky, it looks pretty darn close to the one he did with his right hand.

Today, for whatever reason, we were talking about this.  I guess it was because I happened to find a few of his sketches while I was looking for something.  He reminisced about while he was still at RIC, one of his therapist asked him about drawing.  They gave him a pencil and he sketched her. Soon, several of the therapist wanted him to sketch them.  One of them asked him how he could do this, especially with his left hand.  He told me that he explained to them, that it is not in your hand.  It's what is up in your head that allows your hand to do it.  How profound for a man with a traumatic brain injury to bring up to a therapist!

It is all of our hope, that when he is good and ready, that he will once again try his "hand" at art.  Perhaps something small and then move up to a painting or two.  Or may even finish that drawing of me!

Music Therapy or Not?

The other day I watched the 20/20 interview with Gabrielle Giffords and her husband, Mark Kelly.  I was so touched by this interview.  However, it visually brought back so many memories of my husband's injury, hospital stay and rehabilitation.  It really was a remarkable interview. Gabrielle Giffords is truly an amazing woman as all the many people out there recovering from a brain injury are.  So much hard work is involved for them and every bit of progress whether it be large or small is astonishing.

On my phone I have a dictionary app which gives you a word of the day, every day.  I really enjoy it as not only do I get a word of the day, there is always some little anecdote.  Today's anecdote was about Gabrielle Giffords and how music helped her relearn words.  She was injured on the left side of the brain near the area that controls language.  It said that recovery specialists have started using music to help patients recover their language ability. Even though we understand and create language on the left side of our brain, we understand music primarily on the right side .  The way the brain relates to music is very unique.  When we have a song stuck in our head or listen to a song by imagining it, our brain is very active as if we were really listening to that song.  Neuroscience research has shown that music has an incredible impact across the entire brain. Because music relies on pitch and rhythm in addition to speech, it is interpreted in different parts of the brain, not solely the music or language areas.  When rehabilitating injured patients, rather than trying to redevelop the language area directly, this therapy retrains the connections in the brain and creates a new language area in the music region of the brain.

After watching the interview and then reading this information on my phone, I can't help but think that even in the short amount of time since my husband's injury, there is still so much progress being made.  I found this most fascinating as I remember when my husband was just learning how to learn to talk again, there was no music.  We were not allowed to play music or turn on the TV or do anything that would over stimulate him.  I wonder if he would have made faster progress if we could have added music?  I guess we will never know as his speech is pretty good at this point in time.

However, we were talking about this today.  I told him they should have allowed us to play music and sing to him.  He just laughed.  My husband was always involved with music being a piper in a bagpipe band.  But as he reminded me, he never sang.  You see, anyone who knows me knows I am the one who sings all the time to myself.  He marvels at the songs that just seem to pop into my brain.  He said that if they allowed us to play songs and sing to him, he probably would have run screaming from the room and never want to talk again.  Maybe in his case it was a good thing he had just the traditional speech therapy!

Teamwork continued...

We arrived home mid afternoon from our very long excursion to the hospital for a simple procedure.  I think the GI Lab was happy to see us leave as we had been there for so long occupying a room I think they wanted to use.  The ride home was not without excitement.  Tim coughed most of the way home and his right leg kept having spasms every five minutes.  I've seen his arm do this when he gets fatigued, but never his leg.  By the time we got in the door at home, we were so pooped.  (Ha ha ha ...no pun intended again!)  Tim said he was tired and a little chilly.  He sat down in his chair and pulled a blanket up over himself.  We were both hungry, but I think we were just more tired than anything.  So I made us both a mini bagel with cream cheese and then we agreed a nap was in order.  A good hour and a half had passed and I got up to do a few things around the house.  Tim was still asleep.  Suddenly I heard his voice call out to me, saying he thought he had a fever.  Now I couldn't imagine why he thought that, but I popped a thermometer in his mouth.  By golly, he did have a fever!  It was 102.5.  The switch in my mind flipped on and I thought, he should not be running a temperature after a procedure.  So I dialed the doctor's office.  I really wasn't sure which doctor to call, so I called his PCP first.  They told me to call the doctor who did the procedure, which I then did.  He told me to get Tim to the ER immediately.  Now, I am not one to get ruffled very quickly, so I responded that I just gave Tim a couple of Tylenol and did he think I should wait to see if his temp goes down.  The doctor, in an authoritative voice, told me to get him to the ER now and if I couldn't drive him there, he would call an ambulance.  So off we went, back to the hospital that we had just left two and a half hours previously.  

As we arrived, there is no longer parking in the ER.  You can pull up and drop off someone and then park in the lot down behind the ER.  My husband, of course, would not let me drop him off.  He wanted me to park and then push him in his wheel chair back up to the ER.  Up being the key word.  You see the parking lot is down hill from the entrance to the ER.  So by parking in the lot first, I then had to push him up to the entrance.  By the time I got him in the door, the nurse asked me if I was the one who needed to be seen!  I told her I just needed to catch my breath, which in a moment I did!  They actually were waiting for him and immediately took him into a room to be seen.  All the ER standard procedures took place.  They took blood, a chest x-ray, a cat scan and hooked him up to a monitor.  His pulse by this time was 127 and his blood pressure was 96/49. His fever was coming down (thanks Tylenol), but they were concerned with his vitals.  

This sounds like this was all lickety-split, but it really was done over a course of several hours.  They had now hooked him up to fluids and IV antibiotics.  He had an infection, but they were not sure where yet and were waiting for test results to come back in.  By this time it was getting so late, I was hoping they would just admit him as I wasn't relishing taking him back out to the car in the middle of the night and bringing him home.  Finally they made the decision to keep him.  They were going to send him up to a monitored floor, since his vitals were still off.  Since he was off his coumadin, several thoughts of what was going on with him passed through the doctors minds.  But the official diagnosis was aspiration pneumonia.  He had quickly turned into one very sick little cookie.  Evidently when he was having trouble breathing on the table during his procedure when they had to intubate him, he aspirated.  Bacteria then flowed directly into his lungs which didn't take long to spread like wild fire.  Thankfully, it wasn't a pulmonary embolism or a punctured colon like they originally thought.  Tim has had pneumonia so many times in his life, we figured this was just another notch in his belt buckle!  

While in the ER, he finished off two bags of antibiotics.  When he was moved up to his room, the IV antibiotics continued.  It was now way past midnight and he continued to get admitted.  The nurse's came in, followed by the residents, followed by more nurses who were trying to get him settled in.  He was so tired by this time and I was exhausted too.  He just wanted to go to sleep.  I decided to say good night to him and go home.  He was comfortable and I knew he would be well taken care of.

As tired as I was, I was also very very hungry.  Now where do you go for food at 1:30 am?  Why McDonald's of course!  It was probably the strangest thing I've done in a long time, going through the drive through in the middle of the night.  However, the staff was extraordinarily talkative.  I learned that the lady taking my money had just moved here from Atlanta and was not enjoying our chilly weather!  I think I was delirious at this time and just smiled and took my food and left.

Finally the end of one hell of a day.  Tim stayed in the hospital for a couple of nights and was discharged home to my care once again.  He had to restart his coumadin which was now a bit out of line, but we could manage this.  He needed to take oral antibiotics for a week and make several trips to his doctor's office.  But today he is home and making a good recovery.  He's tired, still has a bit of a cough, but he's good.  Oh and that polyp they removed during his procedure (which now seems eons ago, although it was just last week) was benign.  So a good end to a colonoscopy gone wild!  

And above anything else, we are still one hell of a team!

Teamwork

The definition of teamwork -"coordinated effort on the part of a group of persons acting together as a team in the interests of a common cause."   Synonyms are alliance, assistance, joint effort, partnership, pulling together and unity, to name a few.

I have never given much credence to the word before like I do now.   Of course in the period of time that I have worked, I have been to many a training or workshop that centered around "team building."  You go and sit through many a speaker and get up and do several exercises in the art of "team building or teamwork".  You preach it to your staff and you write about it in your newsletters.  I live it!

My husband has been through and stills lives through an ordeal. He cannot do anything normal like he has before.  Every little thing that you or I take for granted, requires assistance in one form or another.  He has very little use of his right arm, so I have become the left.  We are a partnership through thick and thin.

Case in point, he just went in for a routine procedure, a colonoscopy, that test that we as adults are supposed to have when we reach the 50 mark.  So he's a little behind (no pun intended) in that area. He is 55.  He kind of lost the last five years.  So we scheduled it.  Now, he actually had one earlier this year, which was sort of uneventful.  Except that he takes coumadin and did not go off of it the first time around.  The doctor gave him several options at the time and was confident that they probably would not find anything.  Wrong!  This is Tim, remember, nothing is ordinary.  The prep he used was not really good enough, but the doctor did find a small polyp.  So he needed to reschedule another one in six months to a year.  For the next one, Tim would have to go off his coumadin for five days prior to the procedure and do a two day prep.  (Now anyone who has had one knows just how thrilling a normal prep for this procedure is.  Imagine a two day prep!)

Tim reached the perfect mindset and decided he was ready to do this again.  Off to the doctor we went and got all our instructions, got the day scheduled and we were ready.  I bet you never thought that prepping for a colonoscopy required joint effort, teamwork!  For Tim it does, remember the definition above!  I had everything laid out on the counter for him.  I read the instructions, he read them too.  We were planned out right down to the hour, first with day one, then moving on to day two.  He was down to the drinking of all that solution.  (I put it into 6 water bottles for easy access for him to drink, as he had to start while I was at work.)  You all know what happens next, or is supposed to happen.  Well it didn't.  It didn't the first time and it didn't the second time.  For me, when I had this procedure, I was done and cleaned out in several hours.  For Tim, he started at 3:00 pm and I'm not sure how well it was working for him even by bedtime.  Oh well!

The next morning, we were up at 5:30 am getting dressed and ready to go.  Tim needed to be at the hospital by 7:30 am.  His procedure was scheduled for 8:30 am.  So off we went, piece of cake so far.  He registered, got called in, got undressed and was awaiting his turn.  The nurse got him hooked up to an IV, the anesthesiologist talked to him and lastly the doctor was ready. Off he went and off I went for a cup of coffee. (Remember an earlier post...coffee addiction!)  Very shortly later they called me in and the anesthesiologist told me that during the procedure, Tim had some breathing difficulties.  So he had ordered him an albuterol treatment.  The doctor came out and talked to us and said that Tim scared the wits out of him during the procedure.  As suspected he wasn't as clean as he should be, he also was having such a hard time breathing that they had to intubate him.  He was able to snag the polyp but really could not scope him as well as he would have liked.  The doctor wanted Tim to be watched by the nurses and continue on oxygen for a while.  We, of course, were not in any hurry. So we ended up hanging around for several more hours.  During the course of this time, Tim had a second albuterol treatment.  He was pretty raspy and coughing quite a bit.  His original recovery nurse was going to lunch, so her replacement came in, looked at Tim and deemed him OK to go home.  That is all my husband had to hear.  We pulled it together and went home.  Phew....what a day so far.   A simple procedure that for most of us is done and over in a couple of hours.  To be continued...

A New Way of Walking!

"Walk right in, sit right down

Daddy, let your mind roll on

Walk right in, sit right down

Daddy, let your mind roll on

Everybody's talkin' 'bout a new way of walkin'

Do you want to lose your mind?

Walk right in, sit right down

Daddy, let your mind roll on!"  (Music performed by a variety of musicians.)

If you are our age, you might remember this song!  However the words seem to ring true for Tim.  In March of 2008 he started at a completely new rehab facility.  It was close to home and strictly out patient.  It was one hour sessions and the only thing they concentrated on was walking.  The style of these physical therapists was no nonsense, come in, sit down and let's get to work.  And boy did he work.  Tim's goal was always to be able to walk again and not with a walker, but with a cane.  He was told in the past that he would not be able to do this.  A single cane was out of the question.  He could take some steps with a walker, perhaps they could teach him to use a four pronged cane...but this is not what he wanted.  He wanted to walk with a single cane.  He expressed this desire to his new physical therapist.  So without batting an eye, she said, "If you want to do this, I will make sure you do this."  The first part of this new way of walking was getting Tim to be able to stand alone and balance.  She pushed and he practiced.  (And I mean she was really pushy!)  But whatever she did, Tim followed and absolutely thrived!  Part of this therapy was also addressing his arm/hand issue.  It was so tight, he could not use his hand to help hold him steady,  So she talked to the resident occupational therapist. There was a new type of therapy that just came out, using a dynamic splint and she wanted to try it out on Tim.  He agreed.  Part of using this splint was being able to stand upright and using his right hand, move spongy balls back and forth between buckets.  Piece of cake for you and I.  Not so easy for Tim.  However between his excercises with his physical therapist and doing this work out, (and I am not kidding about it being a work out!) Tim for the first time in years was able to stand alone up right, balanced and looking good.  Loose his mind...did he ever.  It is hard for me to ever imagine not being able to do a simple thing like just stand up.  We take it for granted, but Tim was so pleased.  Now that he could stand, the next step was to take a step.  More pushing and pulling and walking, yes walking with a cane.  He wanted to do it and he finally did after these nine months of intense therapy.  Now, he doesn't walk fast or far or perfect, but his can go several feet with a cane and he is the happiest man in the world. 

With this new ability, daily tasks became easier, transfering became easier, going to the bathroom became easier.  It opened up a whole new world of independance.  (I'm getting ahead of myself with exhuberance!)  He went from being totally wheel chair bound to a bit more free.  He can now walk from our back door to the car without the need of a wheel chair.  It is certainly easier on me with out having to lug his chair.  He can walk from the family room to his bathroom and out into the kitchen.  He still needs the wheel chair as he can't ambulate great distances, but he achieved his goal and that is what he wanted to do.

And then one more thing....

So with Tim home and therapy going well, variety of hospital stays due to ups and downs, our life has certainly changed from the normal routine.  It is evident that the way we were and the life we had when we took that trip to the Bahamas 2 weeks before Tim's accident would never return.  But that's OK because we were now prepared to meet all the new challenges that would come our way.  Tim had a goal in mind.  He never dwelled on the past.  We fondly referred to him as the new Tim and the old Tim.  Old Tim was the way he was prior to the accident.  New Tim is the way he is now.  Always a fighter, but definately with a personality change, but a good change.  So we continued on.

However, in July of 2007, I was not prepared for what happened next.  (Although, who is ever prepared for catastrophic occurances?) My aunt, who I have always been very close to, suffered a devastating stroke.  I received a call from her work saying that she did not come into work yet, nor were they able to reach her.  They had called 911 and one of the ladies who works with her was going to stop by her apartment to check on her.  I decided to run over there as well.  When I got there, she was laying on the floor.  The paramedics were also there.  They were going to take her to the hospital.  I called home to let them know what happended and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Once she was there, it was confirmed that she had a stroke and it was a pretty bad one.  She remained in the hospital for a while and was eventually transferred to a nursing home/rehab facility.  She stayed there, but really was not making any progress.  I am her power of attorney, as well as her son.  However he lives in Florida and she is here in Illinois.  So it was up to me to take care of her needs here.  I tried to do the best for her, however, Medicare only allows a 3 month stay in a nursing home facility.  We had to make a decision where she was going to go from there.  I could not take her to my home, as I was already taking care of my husband.  She was unable to go to Florida.  So we decided to bring her home to her apartment and hire a live-in to care for her to see how it would go.  She needed 24/7 care and even with the live-in care, she needed more.  It was a bit of a struggle for me at this time, trying to coordinate her needs, my husband's needs and remain sane.  From the stress, I also developed shingles.  My doctor, (who was also her doctor), suggested I find a nursing home for her.  I began the search not knowing really where to look.  One of the officers that my husband worked with suggested I contact his wife as she worked in a very nice local nursing home.  I followed through on that suggestion and filled out all the necessary paperwork for her to get admitted.  They called on a Friday and we had her settled into her new residence by Monday.  My cousin came in and helped clean out her apartment.  We closed out her lease and settled all her accounts.  She remains in this wonderful, caring facility until this day.  With peace of mind, I was able to go back to being my husband's full time caregiver!

Life in the Rehab

So Tim was home from the hospital now for several months.  Pretty good for a guy that for all intent and purpose shouldn't have survived.  He was talking, although not too good, but clearer than before.  He could stand and they were trying to get him to walk a few steps.  He was starting to feel like he was making progress.  But progress has its downfall, Tim had another blood clot in his leg.  When he left the hospital in May, they removed the filter that would catch any clots that might break loose and discontinued his blood thinners.  Now he had another blood clot exactly in the same place in his leg that he had initially.  An overnight stay in the hospital on Lovanox injections and a new regime on blood thinners fixed that problem.  He would have to remain on the blood thinners for the rest of his life now.  Such is the reality of such a catastrophic injury. 

Tim continued with life at the rehab.  It was so difficult for him and me.  I was back to work as much as I could work.  Every morning I would take him to day rehab, settle him in there and then go to work.  By 3:00 pm I would leave work to go pick him up.  Tim would never drive again, so I knew this was my fate.  Where ever he needed to go, I took him.  The Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago is a huge conglomerate of facilities.  There is the main hospital in downtown Chicago and many out patient facilities city and suburb wide.  We have been to several.  Certain doctors have their specialty and we needed to go to where they were located.  

This routine continued until January of 2007.  At this point, Tim was suffering so much pain in his leg, it almost became unbearable for him.  Any progress that he had been making was coming to a halt.  Physical therapy became almost impossible.  After a visit to his orthopedic surgeon in February, it was decided that he would need to go back and have surgery to fuse his ankle.  His stint at the day rehab was coming to an end.  Which actually made him very happy as he absolutely hated going there. (I thought it was a good thing that he was there trying to get better.  He thought I was taking him there just so I could go to work.  Such is the thought process of someone who has suffered a traumatic brain injury.  Sometimes it gets a little skewed.)  Although, after all the time he spent there, I was actually very upset because they told me that he was as good as he was going to get, he probably would never walk again and not to get my hopes up of him getting any better.  So it was just a fine send off.  Tim happy to leave and me, totally weepy eyed.

However, this was the point that my husband woke up once again!  This time he felt like he had a bit more control over what was going to happen with him.  (A bit of a learning curve for me...I was making the decisions for him from the time he was admitted into the hospital to the time he came home.  He was coming around now and he wanted to have input into what was going to happen to him.)  So, he went in for the surgery on his ankle.  They fused it, put a cast on it and he needed to stay off of it for eight weeks.  OK...piece of cake!  Eight weeks past, cast came off and now he could step on it.  Miraculously, half of the pain was gone!   My husband found his determination once again. So, this time with a plan in place to make a shoe with a built up heal to make up for the discrepancy in the length of his leg and to accommodate the angle his foot was now in due to the ankle fusion, back to rehab he went.  The first shoe did not turn out as planned, so we tried again.  I took Tim to a New Balance store to find him a comfortable gym shoe.  When we found the one he liked, we had the heal of the shoe built up.  A lot of hit and miss with this one, but it is the same shoe that he continues to wear to this day.  When one wears out, we just have new ones made up!  This time rehab was a bit more successful.  By the time we finished this stint, Tim was able to walk a few steps with a walker.  His doctor then decided a few steps were good, but he would need gait training.  This pleased my husband as now that he could walk a few steps with a walker, he wanted to be able to walk more steps but using a cane.  So he continued at this RIC facility from June through November of 2007.  In December of 2007, I took Tim for an evaluation at a rehab facility closer to our home near Northwest Community Hospital.  This is the facility that made the difference in our lives.

Routine, Routine, Routine

My husband and I started to get into our routine, which is the first word in the vocabulary of someone who has suffered a traumatic brain injury.  His room on the first floor was not ready yet.  Plans were drawn up and we were awaiting the approval of the permits.  So we were using the family room as a bedroom.  I had purchased an adjustable bed for Tim.  This really helped him with his mobility issues.  I also purchased a very nice leather recliner.  It took a lot of thought process to buy both. The bed and chair needed to be a certain height, since Tim had a problem bending and sitting.  The chair could not be rocking and it needed to have arms sturdy enough for him to be able to push off of in order to stand.  I took my father in law to the store to test out all the chairs.  We did find one that was just perfect.  So much so, that my father in law bought one for himself!  There was not enough room in the family room for the bed and furniture, so one of the love seats had to go.  I slept on the other one.  In fact much of our furniture had to be removed and rearranged to make room for my husband to use his wheelchair.  

Every morning we got up, me first at 5:30 am, so I could get dressed before Tim.  (I still do to this day.)  Then I got him up and dressed and off to rehab.  We continued this until our routine was established.  The next monkey wrench tossed into this mix was me starting back to work.  It was now mid July and I had not been to work since February.  After I dropped Tim off, I would go into work for a few hours a couple of days just to get used to it again.  However, I couldn't do a whole lot yet.  Not only did he have to go to therapy, but he had doctor appointments and was still being treated for the ulcer on the back of his ankle.   Not to mention the fact that when he was home, he could not be alone.  So if I wasn't there, I had to arrange for someone to be there with him.  My kids and in laws took turns.

For the first few months home, sleeping in the family room was not always great.  Tim would get up several times a night, confused about where he was.  Sleeping on the couch was horrendous.  (When his bedroom was finally finished, I threw out the couch!)  Going to work was not easy.  In fact, I really didn't know how I would be able to continue.  I tried as best as I could, but it became pretty evident that I could not continue in the position that I held prior to my husband's accident.  On the day of training, my boss pulled me aside and said that my co-worker and I were going to switch positions.  As good as everyone was to me at work in allowing me to take such an extended leave of absence, my mind was not yet into my job.  So I knew this was the right thing to do at this time.  My husband still had way to much going on for me to try and devote time to being in charge at work.  So I kind of took a back seat there and devoted much of my time to caring for my husband.  

I really needed to stick to our established routine.  Anything out of the ordinary could potentially cause problems.  Not physical, but mental similar to the "meltdowns" we experienced when my husband was still in the hospital. Over stimulation was another problem. We really had to watch that we didn't tire him out or watch too many action packed movies. These would put him over the edge.  Lights bothered him too. Just another hazard of a TBI.  So our family room needed to be darker that I really preferred.  

As happy as we were to have Tim home from the hospital.  It opened up a whole new can of worms.  But we did make it to September!  It had been four months since my husband came home from the hospital.  What a learning process for me, for him and the rest of our family. Our garage was cleared to be turned into a bedroom.  We were surviving.  We had our routine down.  What could possibly go wrong!

In Memory of our Cat

Just a little side note from my husband's story... After living with us for 15 years, our pet cat Sandy has died.  She was old (80 in cat years) and she was sick.  We took her to the vet and they ran blood tests, took an  x-ray and gave her an IV fluids and antibiotics.  I took her home and continued giving her fluids, sat up with her all night and took her back to the vet the next morning to continue the IV.  Then I received the call a few hours later that she was dying.  By the time I got back to the vet, she was gone.  

When I arrived, they quickly ushered me into the examining room, where I sat for several minutes alone.  Eventually the poor intern vet came in and told me.  I don't know what happened to me then, except I started to sob uncontrollably.

I just don't know what came over me.  I am usually a very level headed person, very realistic about everything and definitely not a crier.  I managed to get through probably the worst episode in my entire life, when my husband was so severely injured in his car crash so stoically.  I held up so I could keep everyone else together.  And here I sat in the vet's office crying my eyes out over our poor cat.  It only got worse.  The vet asked if I wanted to see her, I sobbed harder.  She then asked if I wanted her paw print impression.  That one did me in.  I could not even talk by this time.  I sobbed and shook my head no and just asked for the bill and her carrier and a few minutes to compose myself so I could drive home.  I felt so sorry for the young vet.  I am sure they deal with this all the time, but she just stood there not knowing what to say as I cried.    

Perhaps it was just a culmination of things.  Perhaps everything over the course of the last 5 years just came to a head in the vet's office.  I'm not sure, but I over it now. The day was just a sad one.  She had a good long life with us and will be missed.  

Rehab Begins

So after three months in the hospital, we were home!  Now the total test of my wits was going to begin.  While in the hospital, my husband was safe and sound.  He had people around him attentive to his every need.  But home was home and it was just me doing it all.

We had the week end to adjust to being home.  My husband got a chance to do nothing but rest for the first time in months.  However, come Monday morning, the next phase would begin.  I had to have him at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago by 9:00 am.  We got there and the receptionist was less than friendly.  (My husband and I would joke about that in the months to come.)  They took all our information and Tim was ready to begin.  He met all his therapists, we got the tour of the facility and received all our instructions.  For a facility that deals with people who have experienced neurological injuries, I have to say they were not exactly warm and fuzzy.  It is kind of odd as we have been to a number of the RIC facilities and only one of them really stands out in my mind as having good customer service.  But I suppose it is not about how nice they are, it is really about how good of care my husband would receive.  (Although, I would have liked a little of both.  Maybe it was just the mother hen in me!)

If I could back track a moment, I should have realized that things might not be all peachy keen once he started this out patient care.  The last week my husband was still in the hospital, the social worker was making arrangements with this RIC facility.  She told me that someone would contact me and come out to talk to us at the hospital.  Now I was at the hospital every day from sunrise to midnight.  My husband was napping one afternoon and I stepped out of his room and walked to the family waiting room for a moment to make a phone call.  When I returned I found a folder with papers in it about RIC.  My husband told me that someone was there and left it.  He did not know who she was or why she was there.  I stopped at the nursing station (which was directly outside my husband's room) to ask who it was.  They thought that it was a representative from RIC.  So I called them immediately and asked who was there and why she did not call me so I could be in the room.  Now I realize that my husband was a 49 year old man at the time.  However, he had suffered a massive TBI with complete memory loss and speech impairment.  You would think that instead of just wandering into his room, she would have called ahead so someone would be there with him.

Anyway, Tim was assigned a primary physical therapist to monitor all his care.  Within one week she was gone and a new one was assigned.  At this point, things got markedly better.  Several new therapists were brought in and things started to really improve.  I guess all it took was a change in management!

So for the first few weeks, Tim would go to therapy from 9:00 to noon.  They then convinced him that he needed to stay all day.  It took a lot of convincing for him to finally agree.  He now had to bring a lunch with him and any medications that he needed to take during the day.  This was going to be interesting because, he had no idea when he was supposed to take any of his medication or what they were for.  The facility said they could not give it to him.  He needed to be responsible for his own things.  Not so easy for someone with a brain injury.  I now had to come up with food he could easily eat one handed and drinks that he could open on his own.  I put his medication in a small envelope, packed it in his lunch and instructed him to take it when he unpacked his lunch to eat.  When we arrived in the morning, I would go with him to the kitchen and he would put his lunch in a specific place in the refrigerator so he would remember where it was and could reach it.  It always had to be in a paper bag, so when he finished eating, he could just throw it all away.

In the beginning, I stayed with him and just waited out in the lobby.  When he started to go all day, it was soon apparent that they really needed him to concentrate and I was becoming a distraction.  So I would bring him in the morning, stay for a little while and then come back later in the day.  This seemed to work out well as he was getting used to the routine.  The work was very, very difficult.  His communication skills were just starting to come back, but extreme pain persisted and fatigue was the worst.  His first month home was less than stellar.

Release Me...

Well it was late May.  It has been three agonizing, sometimes grueling months.  We were in the home stretch.  Arrangements were being made so I could finally bring my husband home!

In the hospital, we reviewed all the necessary things needed to bring Tim home.  We went over medications that he needed to be on, equipment that he needed to bring home, nurse visits, doctor appointments, physical therapy, speech therapy and  the layout of our house.  I was going to be his caretaker, so I needed to also be instructed on what my duties would be.

On the home front, we only had one bathroom and shower on the first floor.  It was not a very big one.  My husband's wheel chair would not fit through the doorway.  So we practiced before he left the hospital, how he would have to walk into the bathroom.  I had to remove the doors from the shower, hang a shower curtain to replace the doors and we bought a shower chair to fit into the stall.  It would prove to be very tricky once we got home because, Tim could slowly walk through the bathroom to the shower, but he could not step into the shower due to the ridge on the bottom where the doors fit into it and the spasticity in his right leg and not being able to bend his knee.  So he would walk in and turn around when he got to the stall.  I would jump into the stall behind him and the chair and he would fall backwards slowly into my arms and I would guide him to the chair.  He could then lift his left foot over the ridge and I would lift his right foot over and place it in the shower on the floor.  Talk about the trust issue.  There was no question about it.  He put all his faith in me, that I would not drop him and I never did.

Where to sleep was next.  All our bedrooms were upstairs.  I had started a plan to turn our garage into a bedroom on the first floor.  However, it would not be ready for some time.  So when Tim came home, we put a bed in our family room and a room divider up to give him some privacy.  I placed a commode next to the bed as using the toilet in the downstairs bathroom was too difficult.  A handicapped accessible bathroom was going to be built in his room.  For now these arrangements would have to work and they did for the next nine months.

Our floors were all hardwood.  So maneuvering around in a wheel chair would not be difficult.  A ramp with a deck was built next to the back door.  I could easily get him in and out of the house.  I gave my son several pieces of our furniture to make room through out our house.  I moved the dining room into the living room.  Then dumped the living room furniture.  I turned the dining room into a computer room.  My daughter moved into my upstairs bedroom, I moved my stuff into one of our smaller rooms, which did not matter because for the next year I slept on the couch in the family room to be near my husband.

Plans were made for him to attend day rehab at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago.  At first they wanted him to attend all day from 9:00 am to 3:30 pm.  I denied it at first.  My husband had not been home for three months.  He was so tired and confused and needed to become adjusted to being in a new environment first.  So we arranged for him to start out with half day sessions and then build up to a full day with a nap.  By starting him out slowly this way, he was eventually able to be successful.

The day was finally here!  He had such a difficult time getting into the car that we owned, so we decided to ask my father in law to drive him home from the hospital as his car was much more rommier.  When we arrived to our street, it was lined up and down with police officers from all over as well as the bagpipe band that my husband had played with.  The band met us at the end of the block and as we turned onto our street, they marched and played him to our door.  It was the most spectacular welcome home I have ever seen.  All his fellow police officers streamed into our house one by one to shake his hand.  By the time it was over, my husband was totally exhausted.  But he was home!  A whole new part of his life was now going to begin.  But for this moment, all he wanted to do was get into his new bed in the family room and go to sleep.

Home on the Horizon

Every week at the hospital on a designated day, my husband’s team would meet.  This included his doctor, his nurse, the speech therapist, the occupational therapist, the physical therapist, the social worker and me.  We all squeezed into one little room and everyone would give their opinion as to how my husband was progressing for a designated period of 20 minutes.  They would go around the table and everyone would have their say.  It was in these meetings that I think the group, especially his nurse, finally came to respect me. 

Tim was relearning how to do everything.  I was learning how to get him there!  At these meetings we went over his whole plan of care and then they taught me how to put everything we talked about to use.  I am a quick learner.  Even if I wasn’t, I had to be now.  We were getting close to having Tim come home.  He couldn’t come home until they were sure I could care for him.  So I made sure I knew how.  I know all these people had many years of schooling in their professions.  I felt like I got the crash course! 

Everything we do we learned when we were young.  You learned how to put your clothes on, go to the bathroom, brush your teeth and comb your hair.  Piece of cake when you are a kid.  Not so, when you are an adult, who is now one handed and cannot bend forward to put on your shoes, let alone tie them.  My husband was not proud.  We worked as a team.  We do the same even today.

The quicker we got it down, the faster his time was to coming home.  At this point we were 2 weeks away!  After the weekly meeting, it was decided that he would be allowed to have a pass to come home on the weekend for 1 day to see how it would go. As it happened, my middle son was graduating from college.  The graduation ceremony was to be at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago.  We decided that since my in laws had a larger car and were better familiar with the area, they would drive.  The graduation was wonderful.  However, we did not realize that there would be literally thousands of people there.  Not so good for someone recovering from a TBI amongst other things.  Well, my husband was a trooper.  He really wanted to see our son graduate.  So the minute he walked across that stage and got his diploma, that was it, we were out of there!  He was able to come home for a while and then I had to have him back to the hospital. 

The nurses always used to wonder why they never heard my husband ever ask to go home the whole time he was on the rehab unit.  It was because he could not remember what or where his home was.  After this little excursion, he wanted to go home more than anything.  He still had to stay in the hospital for a little while more.  But the following weekend, he got another chance to come home for several hours again on Sunday.  This was a much more peaceful trip.  The drive home was like going down memory lane for him.  Bits and pieces of memories were popping into his brain as we drove.  This was the final test.  It went so well that once I took him back to the hospital, we started to make the final preparations for his release.

Continued excerpts from the SICU....

2/19/06

Tim and family,

I stopped by to see how you were doing.  I was on the call on the 15th and everyone on the fire department is concerned for you.  It is nice to see that you are stable and doing as well as can be expected.  You are in our thoughts and prayers and we hope you have a quick recovery.   M.R.

Good morning Tim,

I've been here since around 8 am but am only now writing something because I don't know what to say, really.  You know what?   I still don't know what I should write, at least I haven't anything profound to say and I guess I wish I did....

I feel numb inside and probably will until you finally walk out of here and you will walk out of here, of that I have no doubt!  

You were the first officer I rode with when I was first hired and before I went to the academy.  I know you won't remember, but I never will forget.  It was in May, 1989, evening shift and it was a beautiful day, sunny and warm.  I was extremely nervous and tried to converse with you, but ended up only talking to myself because you weren't talkative at all.  I think you said two words (max!) to me all night!

Knowing what I know now, you were ticked being forced to drive around some rookie (who wasn't even a rookie yet!) and  that is a very disruptive thing to have to happen to us!  We like our privacy and our routine!

Anyway, the first thing we did was check your businesses along NW Highway.  I think to shut me up you made a traffic stop behind the bowling alley.  I was like "this is so awesome!"  But you made me stay in the squad.  You were even more crabby after that!  Ha ha ha...In fact you dropped me off at the station a short time after that.  Ha ha ha...
Believe it or not I have always looked up to you since this first meeting.  You have always been the cop and the person I wish I could be more like.  You've always been there for me when I needed help and you've never spoken ill of me my entire time at the PD.  (And as you know, that is a rare quality to be found in anyone in this business!)  You're a good person and thank you.  I'm praying hard for  you and your family.  God Bless!  T.K.

More Reflections...continued 2/19/06

Say Tim,
Most of our shift stopped by this morning and met your wonderful family.  I was especially honored since I've heard so much about them from you, but I never had the pleasure of meeting them.  Maryann is such a positive lady and managed to laughingly share stories about you even through these difficult times.  I hope you regain your ability to come to work soon as I know you will.  The 1102 beat is not the same anymore since you've been away on your forced vacation.  It was good knowing you would always be working that beat especially since we are on the same RDO's.  I just want to let you know that my family holds you and yours in our prayers.  A speedy recovery to you my friend and God Bless!  Beat 1100, B.U.

Tim,
Stopped  by today with the rest of midnights.  I know you are worried about all the kids hanging out at the Wendy's on Rand Road.  Don't..... I'll take care of it.  I know you are a closet NASCAR fan, so I'll be sure to save the newspaper clippings so you will know who won the Daytona 500 today.  Just remember NASCAR fans don't try to crash their cars on purpose.  Get better soon.  I don't think we can keep the north side under control with out ya!  J.B.

Tim,
Just want you to know that I miss having you behind me every night in roll call.  The Cubs are starting up now so get excited! (Ha ha ha)  My family is here for you and are praying for your family. R.C.

Hi Tim,
Yeah, what they all said!  Just wanted you to know you're in the thoughts and prayers of me and my family.  I just got back to mids, and after 2 days, I miss having you on our shift.  You are a "glue" guy.  The kind that holds a shift together.  I hope you recover quickly and fully.  I know after 20 + years, it might be tempting to just run out the clock, but we want you back shifted up with us.  J.S.

Hey Tim,
Well it's been several days now and the news is you're doing remarkably better.  They attribute that to the incredible shape you are in.  I have stopped by a couple times and sat with your family.  You have wonderful children.  We have been talking with them about school and they are incredibly smart.  You and Maryann should be very proud.  The men and women who love you keep on stopping by.  The foot traffic never stops.  They keep on coming and praying and bringing donuts and bagels.
The PD has been busy.  This last half week we have had several major incidents occur.  They announced the new commanders and unofficially, where they are all being transfered to.  I worked a double yesterday.  The phone never stops ringing on day shift.  Almost every call was inquiring about you and wishing you well and offering to help in anyway.  Politicians, cops, citizens, firemen, PW people, business owners and many more call everyday.  Everyone wants to "circle the wagons" around you and your family.  It's truly amazing how many people know you and those that don't still offer prayers and help.
You are going to have to pick out a new favorite squad car. Yours is broke and beyond repair (by a little).  I know  you liked the old computer too and rumor has it CIB is going to be experimenting with new squad laptops.  I hope they work.  We are keeping your beat covered for you too.  The guys want to work in it while you're gone.  It's like an honor to them.
The weather has been Siberian like.  It was -11 on the bank clock at 3 AM on the 18th.  Wind chill was -37.  It's cold out.  The White Sox are making some changes.  Too many to list here.  The South Side World Champs will be starting spring training soon.  Go White Sox!  I think you'll be waking up soon to watch the games.  Sleep and rest well.  We are willing to help and do whatever it takes to get you home soon.  M.K.

This was 4 days after my husband's crash and people keep streaming in and talking and writing.  It's funny how much you learn about someone you have lived with for so long by getting a glimpse into his other life.  The life he went to on the job every night, working with the men and women on his department.  As my husband lay in a coma fighting for his life, we all got to see a whole different side of him.  It was pretty amazing!  To be continued tomorrow.

More Reflections...continued 2/18/06

Tim,

It's you old midnight pal from long ago.  Remember those days?  Well pal, I'm thinking about you and we have you in our prayers.  I will be here if you need anything.  I remember when I was in the hospital and I thought something was really wrong.  A lot of goofy thoughts go through your head, but every day, even the tough ones is one day better.  You will be through this an never look back pal.  Every day is better than the previous.  Take care Tim.  When you feel better, call me if and when your bored.  I'll get you laughing a little.  Take care until then Tim.  M.M.

Tim,

I have been thinking about you ever since I heard about your crash.  You have been in my prayers.  I know being in a hospital is a real bummer.  I hope you get out of there as soon as possible and get back home.  If you need something or just want to talk, feel free to give me a call.  Get well and home soon. C.K.

Hey Tim,

It's Saturday afternoon and I'm here with your family.  You are steadily improving and things are looking good.  This is still unbelievable.  We are thinking about you and your family.  It seems like I was just standing by the back door watching you walk in after your shift and I was getting ready to start mine.  You never know when something can go wrong.  I hope to see you out running again soon and I hope you're ready to turn fifty.  All the people turning fifty this year are thinking about having a party and you better be there!  I'm praying for your to get better soon. J.K.

Partner...

Spent part of Thursday evening here with Maryann, Katie and your brother.  Hadn't seen your brother since our "bureau days".  We laughed about many of those times and I told them that the first thing I'm going to do when you wake up is hand you an apple.  Figure it's about time you got even!  

We also laughed when I told Katie that you would read her "the riot act" if you knew she was missing school. 

All kidding aside, you cannot imagine all the prayers and thoughts that are with you.  We sit here patiently, but anxiously waiting for each and every word of encouragement from your doctors.  Hang tough my fiend.  I know that as stubborn (yeah you!) as you are, you will battle through this.  I look forward to hearing your open minded views of the state of our society and all the good "Democrats" in this world.

God bless you my friend.  Stay strong and don't every stop fighting.  You're the best!  Your partner, R.K.

Tim,

I hope when your're reading this, you are feeling much better and well on you're way to a complete recovery.  I know we started the same time, but we really don't need to experience "everything" together.  My hope and my prayers are that you will recover even better than me and really learn to understand what I meant by "It's a Wonderful Life".  You will get to see just how many people love you and care about your and that is truly a "gift" that will come from this experience.  I hope you and your family know that I am here for you to help in any way I can.  You have always been a good friend, especially during my time of need and I am here for you if you need anything.  God Bless You!  C.T.  

Tim,

It's tough for me to write on the back of the page since as will remember, I need my paper sideways.  

I have been on the phone more during the last 3 days than a teenager.  I'm doing my best to keep the band informed and encouraged about your progress.  There's definitely a lot of support and prayers from all  your Irish pals.  There has already been discussion about Cleveland this year.  Since I'm not a doctor I can't say if you will be able to travel by then.  But speaking of Cleveland, I got a very strange call yesterday.  It was an inquiry if you were actually driving a car assigned to you... followed by "keeping an eye out for you in Cleveland."  Ha ha ha!  I hope your recover and can play your own side jobs!  I'll do my best to fill your shoes...OK I won't play, but I will find someone suitable.  I will keep you in my prayers until you ask, "Why the hell are you doing that?"  S.M.

To be continued....

Kudos to My Kids!

I have been blogging about my husband's crash from the day that it happened through his long hospital stay.  His crash occurred five years ago.  So much has changed since that fateful day.  But I would like to flash forward to present day today, for a moment and share some good news about our family. 

My husband's crash affected all of us in many different ways.  My son, Mike, had recently graduated from college and was living in Arizona attending ASU working on his master's degree.  When this transpired he decided to come back home.  Two years later he married his college sweetheart and returned to ASU.  He just completed his Master of Science Degree and was accepted at Indianapolis-Purdue University.  He is now going to pursue a law degree.  Congratulations Mike!

My son, Mark, was just graduating from Columbia College in Chicago (one week before my husband was released from the hospital) with a BA in photography.  For the past five years he has been the coordinator of the photography department at Waubansee Community College.  

My daughter Katie, was a junior in high school when her father suffered this devastating accident.  Being the youngest, his crash probably affected her the most.  However, she being most like her father, persevered and on Saturday will be graduating from Elmhurst College with a BA in Speech and Language Pathology.  She just received a letter that she has been accepted into the graduate program for Communication and Sciences Disorders at St. Xavier University.  Congratulations Katie!

Three extraordinary kids, strong in their convictions, despite all that has happened, have done us proud!  We couldn't be more pleased and happy.  Kudos to all of you!

More Reflections...continued

2-17-06
Tim,
You have to get better soon.  How am I supposed to learn these damn tunes on my own.  My wife is getting sick of hearing the first two bars of "St.Patrick's Day", since that is all I can play.  I hope to see  you soon.  C.D.

Tim,
Hoping you get a speedy recovery.  Your a strong and healthy guy and I know you will get through this.  Besides your stubborn Irish temper will get you through anything.  See you soon. C.C.

Tim,
You know it takes a lot to get a fellow Irishman into a hospital.  I think you went a little overboard here to get out of your quarterly evaluation.  Get well soon and come back and join us on midnights.  There aren't many of us missentropes left!  L.S

Tim,
The most important thing I want to convey is how much you mean to so many people.  I sit here and watch people from all walks of life whose life you have touched and come to visit and offer comfort.  My family and I are praying for you constantly and hoping for a 100% recovery.  Your courage and strength are an inspiration to all of us.  I believe your physical condition and will to survive will serve you well as you continue to improve and make a full recovery.  You are missed on midnights and I (we) are looking forward to seeing you again.  Wishing you the very best and with warmest regards.  P.S. My wife still remembers my promotion party and how much fun she had drinking with us.  The headlock and "nuggies" you gave me were the highlight of her evening (mine as well)!  She and her family extend their best wishes and they are praying for a full recovery.  G.G.

Tim,
When you read this you'll figure out that I can write now!  Tim, yes this is the guy you trained.  Well you survived one hell of a wreck, so your expertise paid off.  You and your family will be in my prayers.  J.R.

Tim,
T.G. here.  I don't know if you remember me or not.  I've been on day shift this past year.  You probably wouldn't recognize me either.  I have a tan now and I put on a few pounds.  I miss the midnight shift, but I think you would be better served if you came to the day shift with me...it's safer!  I wish you a speedy recovery.  I know you will be back soon.  The AHPD won't be the same until you come back.  I'll continue to pray for you and visit every day until you're out of here.  God Bless - T.G.

Tim,
Yesterday after day shift, a few of us caravaned out to LGH.  We didn't mind, but thought it would have been better if we kidnapped you and forced you down to Wrigley Field to see you favorite Cub team.  (ha ha ha - to a White Sox fan.)  All of your family are holding up remarkable well including your daughter.
I am back again, day two, and you are stable...and yourself - stubborn and fighting.  It's unfortunate that it takes a horrible incident to bring family and friends so close.  There is a constant stream of family and friends visiting and calling.  I can hear your voice saying, "What? It's not a big deal!"  Your're blessed to spend time with them.  In fact, your brother said, "The healing starts when the check clears!"  We're praying for a full and fast recovery.  I'll see you walking and grumbling soon!  S.H.

Hey Tim,
A short story about concern for you.  Last night, the kids were both working. So our grandkids were staying at our house.  My wife was laying in bed with both of the boys, when one asked, "How's papa doing?"  She told him that I was doing good but was kind of tired because of spending so much time at the hospital.  At this point, my other grandson interrupted saying, "Nani, get to the important stuff.  How's uncle Tim doin?"  So you rate high.
Also, I want to let you know that there have been so many of your guys from AHPD here.  All day and all night!  They have been great.  We've also had guys from MPPD, DPPD, PRPD and CPD here offering prayers, help, food, etc.
We were also talking about how you'd be pissed that everyone was making a big deal over you.  But just accept and heal thyself.
You are going to have to remind me to tell you about your hand signals.  We figured out what you were telling us the first night at the hospital, "I love ya man! - So what's the big deal!"
Your younger and better looking brother, T.S.

Tim,
I have been talking to your son and it scares me to think about how smart he is.  I hope you wake up soon so we know you are going to be OK.  We have been talking about one of your offender sketches and how that guy is doing 8 years.  You son and I discussed how hard it is to drive when you are in the passenger seat!  My brother has been calling to check on your progress.  He is praying for you.  We have you and your family in our thoughts and prayers for your quick and total recovery.  You are too tough to have this slow you down for long.  M.B.

More excerpts tomorrow!

More Reflections…

With plans in motion for bringing my husband home soon, my head was whirling.  So much has transpired.  We were just an ordinary family in the neighborhood.  Now, I was making plans to redo my house to be able to accommodate a handicapped individual.  However, with my mind going a mile a minute, I had a moment to sit back and reflect back to the day of the accident.  A day did not go by without someone inquiring about my husband.  The men and women who worked with him were the most supportive group anyone could ever imagine.  They were truly a caring group and this crash happening to my husband affected them all.  The day my husband was taken to the hospital, this group of coworkers decided to start a book that anyone interested in, could write something to my husband expressing their thoughts and to let him know they were there for him.   I happened to pull out this book again and was re-reading their words.  I would like to share them with you now.  There are many, so I will post several over the next few days.

Forward…2-16-06

Hey Tim,

I was sitting here today with your family, friends and coppers from all over in a constant stream of visitors and phone calls.  It was amazing, the foot traffic never stopped.  At one point I counted 28 people here in the waiting room.  Everyone here was sharing stories and experiences we all have had with you.  We were laughing and crying (crying from laughing so hard!)  We did some praying too.  I was thinking about the many times we were together, both sober and well, maybe a little out of it! (i.e. New Orleans)  We always relied on each other to tell the other what happened the next day, ya know, when we were feeling a little better.

So, I was talking to one of the guys here and we thought, Timmy would want to know who was here and what they might have to say.  We were thinking a crime scene log might work just to keep attendance.  Instead we thought we would spend 99 cents on some notebook paper and start this book or log or diary, whatever you want to call it, in case anyone might want to say hello.  Also, so that you would know what went on around here while you were sleeping.

As I write this and reflect, I’ll be honest, it was tough when I got the phone call, because you mean so much to me.  Yeah, I’ll admit I cried a little (but it was only because I had something in my eye at the time.)  Then I started thinking what a tough, stubborn, opinionated Irishman you are and knew you would fight through this healing process and get back to work with us!

So that you would know, we love you man!  We “gotch ur back!”  I am “outta” words for now.

Get well soon!  M.K.

2-17-06

Tim,

Right now a bunch of us from midnights are sitting in the waiting room with your family talking about you, of course, which I’m sure you would love to know!  We miss you on midnights.  Now the shift is too young, less calm, cool, grumpy etc.!  You are in all of our thoughts.  Get well soon, so I can talk and joke with you again soon!  M.L.

Tim,

My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.  My family is also keeping you in their prayers.  I know that being the tough Irishman that you are, you will make a full and speedy recovery.  Myself and the whole midnight shift will miss you, but we will keep your beat warm for you.  I will be here for you and your family every step of the way!  J.C.

Tim,

First of all we had plans to go to Dick’s today and you screwed that up!  No offense, but the sooner you get well, the less I will have to go by myself.  It’s not that I mind going by myself, it’s the expense I mind.  At least when I’m with you, somebody will pick up the tab! Ha ha ha!

As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, when we were there last, my wife took real good care of us!  I haven’t had service like that since, which makes me kinda wonder if, and maybe this is the wrong time to bring this up, she used my thirst to meet you!  Either way, I’m OK with it, because at least I get a round!  It’s a simple life, but you are essential to the equation.  Get well real quick!  Senior patrolman K.

Tim,

A bunch of us are sitting here throwing jabs at each other and I keep thinking “Tim would be whacking us hard right now with his one-liners.”  I gotta say, I can’t wait to hear them again.  My family and friends are all praying for you to have a speedy and successful recovery.  If the amount of people that are coming to visit will in any way indicate the rate of your recovery, you’ll be well in no time!  N.C.

To be continued.....

Thoughts of Coming Home

As it was getting closer to being able to come home from the hospital, all kinds of new issues were cropping up.  His therapists were working hard helping him to be able to stand and transfer, walk a few steps with a walker, be able to use the bathroom again, shower and get in and out of bed.  Speech therapists got him past the aphasia stage and were giving him simple 2 step tasks to try and accomplish.  He was still trying to get his pain under control.  The ulcer on the back of his ankle was still a problem that needed constant attention from the wound specialists.  His appetite was picking up so they were able to remove the feeding tube. He still had problems with blood clots in his leg which he was taking medication for.  But he was showing signs of improvement all around, which meant that he would be able to eventually leave the hospital setting.  However, he would still need to continue with physical, occupational and speech therapy on an outpatient basis. 

For me, my husband coming home posed many more problems.  Our house was not set up for someone who was now handicapped.  The front and back of the house had steps, which he could not do yet and our bedrooms were upstairs.  The stairs going up to the bedrooms were carpeted and steep and even if we could get him up there, his wheelchair would not fit through the doorways.  He could do a few steps, but was pretty much dependent on his wheelchair. We did have a bathroom and shower on the first floor, but it was not handicapped accessible, a wheel chair could not fit through the doorway here either.  So as the therapists were getting him ready to come home, I was trying to figure out how I was going to get him home and ready our house for it.  Pretty difficult when I was still spending every day at the hospital and had not been to back to work for the last 3 months.  A lot was laying on my mind at this point in time.

However, we thankfully have a group of wonderful friends and coworkers who came to our rescue.  Their generosity simply overwhelms me to this day.  One of the first steps to bringing him home was to be able to get him into the house.  Almost overnight, these wonderful people built us a ramp alongside of the house and connected it to a deck at the back door.  Years ago we had pulled out the carpeting on the first floor and installed hardwood floors, so we were ahead of the game here.  The next dilemma was, where was he going to sleep?  I agonized over this for quite some time.  I remember talking to the social worker at the hospital about this.  She looked at me, patted my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about this, remember, this is only a temporary thing.”  I thought, “Is she drunk?  Does she know who my husband is and has she seen him lately?”  I’ll never forget those words.  Anyone of his therapists who had been working with him would have laughed at her words.  I knew better and started to hatch a plan that had been on my mind way before my husband was ever moved to the rehab unit. 

We have a one car garage attached to our house that we have never been able to put a car in.  I thought, I bet we could turn it into a bedroom.  It would eliminate the risks of the stairs and the issue of where he would sleep. My family thought this was a good idea.  I then talked to our friend who had connections to the building community to see if this could be done and the cost. My in-laws thought it would be a good idea to put a handicapped accessible bathroom into the room.  I was looking at the cost of just a simple room, but I’m glad that they convinced me to include it. 

So with this idea in mind and an accessible entrance in place, things were looking up.  Bringing my husband home was not as troubling as I previously thought.