Black Cat Sprinting

Happy Halloween! I absolutely love Halloween! I love to see all the costumes, eat all the candy and blame it on everyone else.  I love the idea of watching scary movies. As kids, at our house we never really watched scary movies.  It wasn't because we weren't allowed or anything, we just didn't.  I know its hard imagine, but not everyone had a VCR in their house.  We didn't.  We RENTED the VCR at the same time that we rented the tape. The less scary movies in our house, the less chance we would end up in the bed with our parents.  My parents like to brag that we were 14 before we slept in our own bed, but they are exaggerating a bit- it was more like 11 or 12. I think that the idea of being scared is much more fun than actually being scared.  Now being scared is just a part of life.  Sometimes we just can't help it. 

When we were little, our neighbors- the Ketchums', went out of town.  They had a very mean evil cat named Tom.  Michelle asked me to go and feed and water Tom while they were gone.  Tom, the most hissing cat I'd ever seen, had a particular hatred for my brother.  Whenever Heath and I would go there to play, that cat would stare and growl at Heath.  It never missed an opportunity to mess with Heath's head- always snarling at Heath whenever he was there. Anyway,  I was feeling really nice,  so I made Heath go with me to feed the devil cat.  We unlocked the door walked in.  The lights were off, so navigating around wasn't easy.  I found the food and poured it into the bowl and filled up the water bowl with water, with Heath as close to my heels as he could be.  We looked like Scooby Doo and Shaggy creeping around the dark house.  (I'm not really sure why I didn't turn on more lights, probably because I was threatened not to leave any on and not to make a mess.) Tom was no where in sight.  I tried to call her out, to no avail.  I told Heath that I figured the cat was outside and we should just go.  Just as we turned to go out the door Tom made a throaty snarl and we both sort of froze.  Then out of nowhere, Tom jumped out of a dark corner right onto Heath's calve. It looked like something out of a ninja movie when Heath did sort of a donkey kick behind him to thwart the feline attack.  Then he screamed so loud and sissy-like a 6 year old girl would have been ashamed. He flew past me like Death itself was chasing him. I swear I saw a little cloud of dust and if we hadn't left the door open,  Rodney and Tracie would have had to replace the door because of the Heath shaped hole in it.  I don't think I've ever seen his little short legs move so fast.  He ran the whole way home.  I left ole Tom with her food and bad attitude.  I could barely walk home because my side hurt from all the laughing I did.  I couldn't wait to get home and ask him what he thought got him back there  because he never turned around to see what it was.  I'm not sure if he EVER forgave that cat and come to think of it I don't think he ever went back into the Ketchum's house for that matter.

In the first 3 days whenever we didn't know if Heath was going to be OK, I have never been so scared in my whole life. It was a true living horror movie. Now that we are past that - new fears have emerged both for Heath and us.    "What am I going to be able to do when I get home? Am I going to hurt?   Who will be there? " The questions that Heath has are understandable.  Some of  them  he has verbalized and some I just know he's thinking.  The one thing that he wants more than anything is to come home but it's not as easy as just coming home and going back to his regular life.  Not knowing is the scary part.  Everything we do and everything that Heath faces now is new territory for all of us.  We don't have a crystal ball to foresee the future and that is terrifying to all of us.  What we do know is that Heath will need many hours of physical therapy.  We know he will be coming home soon, possibly as soon as 10 -14 days.  We know he will need his family to help him through his transition from hospital to home.  And we know he will not be getting a cat.  Even though that is all we have wanted and hoped for in 68 days, now that it is upon us it will be a big change.  We can't walk outside and ask a nurse when we don't have the answers. We aren't going to have the comfort and convenience of having everything we need for whatever comes up.  Throughout all of this we have lived on prayers and faith and we know that we will make it through and Heath will do just fine. Even though we don't know how tomorrow will turn out we know that we will be able to handle things.  Our family is closer and stronger than we were before.  What we have learned through this process is : we face things head on - not with our eyes shut, even during the scary parts- we don't cut and run.  We can't wait for the next chapter - scary or not. 

'Til Tomorrow

p.s. Heath got a pain pump a few days ago and the pain is so much better - so thank you for all the prayers !!!!

Daisy was mean to Enos

This is an altered version of the General Lee.  It's pretty disgusting.  I can barely look at it without gagging. It's pretty much a spit in the face to Dukes of Hazzard fans everywhere.  It's also an insult to muscle cars and even orange paint for that matter. Oh my, I'm beginning to feel faint.  Someone- get the smelling salts! 

 If you know me at all you know that since I was a child, my hope was to become a Duke.  My dream was to marry into the family.  Mrs. Bo Duke was who I was destined to be.  I had it all planned out.  We wouldn't live with Uncle Jesse anymore on the farm, we'd get our own place, but not outside of Hazzard county - you know with the conditions of the probation and all.  And he'd have to just tell Luke that I was going to be the one riding shotgun from now on.  He would also teach me how to hood slide too. Daisy was going to have to be talked into moving to Nashville to pursue her "music" career.  I didn't really care for the way she treated Enos and plus she needed to put some clothes on. Once all that was taken care of ,we were going to be so very happy.  I couldn't wait for it all to come true.
*Sigh*  I guess sometimes we don't get to live the life we plan.  Sometimes its a altered version that we get to live-  a better altered version.  I guess I would have gotten tired of getting in and out of that car with the doors wielded shut anyway.   

Remember this morning whenever you sat up and threw your feet over the side of the bed? Then you probably got up with no problem and walked pretty fast to the bathroom. You may have even had to step over some things in the floor.  Then you went through your morning routine which probably included combing your hair and drinking your coffee.  You even ate that big sausage biscuit and had to stretch really wide to get it all in.  When you sat down at your desk or chair you probably didn't even have excruciating pain.  You probably were able to sit beside your child without telling him to be really really still so that you won't bump anything and make something hurt.  You probably didn't have to scratch every inch of your body that you could reach because the itching was unbearable.
 All of these things that we take for granted are things that Heath struggles with now.  Even though the therapists say he's weeks ahead of someone else with injuries like this, the frustration is understandable.  Heath still doesn't complain. The victories each day are cherished.   The fire burned all the skin off, but new skin is growing.  The new skin is very tight and this makes moving painful and restricted.  Physical therapy will help to prevent and repair this, but the process is slow.  The physical therapy is now done for 2 reasons : to regain strength the fire stole from his body and to stretch out the newly developing skin.  Heath's days now involve little short walks and then hitting the P.T. gym and working out.  His therapists are constantly thinking about what he needs to be able to do when he gets home.  They want him to be able to stand up by himself, reach up and scratch his head, and be able to throw a rope.  The skin that can't be stretched with therapy will have to be repaired with surgeries.  His mouth will eventually have to be relieved so that he can stretch wide open for that yawn, or that food he's been wanting for the last 64 days.  Heath hasn't wavered. Heath will get to go back to his life.  The therapists, along with the doctors, are starting him on his journey back - back to what he loves- his hopes and dreams and to his better,  new altered life.

In the arms of angels

If you ever met her, you probably never forgot her.  She was a one of a kind.  She was a fighter.  She was a dreamer.  She was my friend and I miss her dearly.  Karen Lane Nance left this world August 27, 2009 after a long and courageous battle with breast cancer.  I have known Karen for many years and then had the pleasure of working with her for nearly 8 years.  We ate lunch together almost everyday.  I loved to make her laugh.  She would light up my day when I heard her laugh.  I could talk all day long about Karen and tell you all about her cancer and how it came back after she beat  it 10 years before.  I could tell you about her dying and the long suffering she endured, but today I'm not.  Today, I'm going to tell you about how she lived.  She had such a passion for life.  When she loved you, you knew it and she wasn't afraid to tell you.  She loved her family much more than we will ever know.  This time of year was her favorite, she loved to open the windows and let the fresh air in.  She loved her flower beds and Italian creme cake.  She loved old Victorian houses and soft p.j.'s.  She loved Christmas morning and making all the food for the family feast.  Then she loved to gripe about how nobody appreciated all the hard work she put into it.  She loved to look at my scrapbooks and I loved for her to because she always took her time and noticed every single detail that I put into them.  She loved to put her sunroof back and feel the wind blowing in her hair.  She loved chicken quesadillas and Dr. Peppers with VERY LITTLE ICE.  She loved Grey's Anatomy and talking about it on Monday mornings.  She loved to decorate and loved to tell people how they should decorate.  She loved her friends and she loved to help anyone out when she could.   When I look back on the many years I knew Karen, what I think she loved most was just living.  She loved being alive and experiencing each day as it came.  The details that filled her day weren't nearly as important as the people in it.  She knew what life was really about and she lived like it. 

After she died, I dreamed about her often.  I was always telling her something in my dreams.  I think if I could tell her something now, it would be "Thank You!".  I'd thank her for all the wonderful memories and times we laughed until we cried.  I'd mostly like to thank her for showing me that life is short and not to take it for granted. 

Karen loved Heath. Her son, Brandon, and Heath were childhood friends.  Heath spent many days at her house and Karen bossed him just like he was her own.  She loved to see him grin and always made him hug her neck anytime he saw her.   His accident happened two days before the one year anniversary of her death.   I will always believe that Karen was there at that location acting as one of Heath's guardian angels guiding him to that house in the dark. She's now in the arms of angels, but for one night I think she became one.  I'd like to thank her for that too. 

                           Karen Lane Nance 
           October 24, 1964 - August 27, 2009

Happy birthday, I've missed you everyday. 

'Til Tomorrow!

Moving Day

Well we're movin on up,
To the east side.
To a deluxe apartment in the sky,
Movin on up,
To the east side.
We finally got a piece of the pie.
Fish don't fry in the kitchen;
Beans don't burn on the grill.
Took a whole lotta tryin',
Just to get up that hill.
Now we're up in the big leagues,
Gettin' our turn at bat.
As long as we live, it's you and me baby,
There ain't nothin wrong with that.
Well we're movin on up,
To the east side.
To a deluxe apartment in the sky.
Movin on up,
To the east side.
We finally got a piece of the pie.

Well, OK it's really not a "deluxe" apartment, but it does have a private bathroom and two windows.  And I guess it's not really towards the east, it more towards the west end of the hospital.  Other than that we moved it on up, uh OK down the hall. Yep we moved down the hall and so now we are those people.  You know - those people that get to walk their loved ones down the hall.  I even kinda walk like ole George Jefferson when I'm going down that hall - chest poked out, chin way up, arm swinging way behind my back, but I bumped into a food cart and the nurses told me to reign it in a little.  Yes we get to wheel Heath outside to see the sun shining after 53 days.  I'm sure it felt like coming out of solitary confinement to feel the sun on his face for the first time in a very long time. He sat there and soaked up the outside.  He smelled the fresh air and listened to the buzz of traffic and birds chirping.  He sighed and shook his head as if he was in disbelief.  It was hot and he couldn't tolerate it for too long, but just knowing that it really exists made his day.  His drivers were arguing over who would push him and then one of them told the other one to stop bossing,  so my mom had to step in.  You just wouldn't believe how bossy Casey was to me!  Then, Gunner and Paige had the pleasure of driving Heath around.  It was a bittersweet moment.  As one would push from behind, the other would navigate and hold his hand.  They were finally able to help.  They are just like the rest of us - waiting to be able to do something. 
The new deluxe apartment is nice, but it's not home.  We still have a few more at bats before we can get home. 

'Til Tomorrow

Holding your breath

When little Emmer was born it was the most life changing experience I had ever had.  I was 27 years old when she was born. I thought I had done some living.  I had a college degree and had worked several years with the public. So therefore,  I would be an excellent parent.  I knew it ALL.  I knew how to handle every imaginary situation that I had never encountered.  I was an EXPERT.  Then Paige came along and blew my theories right out of the water.  I had to eat a lot of crow.  It don't even taste bad after a while. I did things I said I'd never do with my kids.  I said I never look all white trash and "spank" my child in the aisles of the Wal-Marts.  Well,  not only did I spank my kid there I whooped her too, and if people looked at me funny,  I asked them if they wanted one.  I also said I'd never let my child suck a pacifier when she was as old as 2-  that was completely ridiculous.  When Paige was finally 3 she lost the last pacifier she had  but, wasn't without a big fat open bite!  I can't tell you how many little lessons I learned along the way.  Jeremy and I started learning these lessons on day one. 
From the moment I knew I was having a little girl, I knew she would be my little dolly that I could dress up and put bows in her hair and show off to everyone that would look. I bought clothes and bags and shoes galore, before she was even born.  I had her hospital stay wardrobe already picked out and packed up in her little bag. I couldn't wait for her to get here.  Then she got here, and I went learned I didn't know HOW to put all those clothes on.  The first time I dressed her I almost killed her.  I was so excited to put that cute little  tiny shirt on her, little did I know that you couldn't put clothes on babies like regular people.  Newborn babies are floppy and they don't help.  As a matter of fact they draw up and make things even harder.   I decided that when the nurse brought her to me that she didn't need that tacky hospital t-shirt she had on, she needed the cute pink tiny t-shirt I had packed and brought for her to wear.  My mother, who would've normally done this, had the audacity to leave me and go eat, which left me and Jeremy alone to dress and care for this baby.  I figured that I could put a shirt on a baby - I mean how hard can that be !  I  finally got one arm in the shirt after 20 minutes of trying and coaching from Jeremy.  Then we decided that I should try to get her head in that tiny little head hole. What happened next is something that I'm still not really sure of, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only mother in history that almost killed her own baby by trying to put a shirt on.  The shirt got stuck around the forehead and she started crying and Jeremy started yelling "Get it off her! Get it off!" May day! May day! We were in trouble.  I managed to get it off her strong little tiny arm. That only angered her more. The crying was deafening and her face (the part that I could see) was turning this weird purplish color (which was a nice departure from the yellow color she was).  It was stuck there on her forehead.  The longer I struggled to get it off,  the more enraged she became. Jeremy was biting his fingernails and cursing.  I couldn't go fast enough - but hey I'd just birthed a baby...cut me a little slack.   When I finally got the shirt off of her she was beyond mad and was shaking, and then did something that I would become very familiar with.  She opened her mouth to cry as hard as she could and she held her breath and didn't breathe for what seemed like a full minute. Jeremy and I looked into each others panic stricken faces and had a little mini stroke.  We didn't know what to do. Should we call the nurse and explain what idiots we were? They probably wouldn't let us take her home if they knew we couldn't even dress her.  Finally she let out a huge massive shake the walls wail and I scooped her up and apologized over and over to her. When she finally fell back to sleep, we decided that she looked great in the diaper. Babies are supposed to be naked - it was natural and we weren't going to try that again.  Jeremy decided he needed a cigarette and some nerve pills.  I was just glad her color had come back to normal.  So, we left her alone and wrapped her up in a blanket and decided we'd learn how to do that tomorrow.

Heath has been without real clothes on for 51 days now,  he's been wrapped in soft dressings.  Fortunately for the nurses,  he doesn't hold his breath like his niece does and throw little fits when they change the dressings.  According to him,  since he got his new Yankee skin and his own skin is starting to heal the dressing changes are much more tolerable.  His pain is finally starting to decrease.  He even sat in a chair the other day to eat his dinner (or was it supper?).  He has been up walking for 2 days.  He's getting stronger every single day.  His therapy is done everyday even if his therapist doesn't come in.  He's showing them he's healing.  He is showing them he wants to go home.  He is using his hands to hold cups and forks and even a toothbrush.  Determination and grit have taken the place of pain and suffering.  The days are filled with new experiences for him now that we take for granted.  Can you imagine not being able to even scratch your head or pull your sheet up?  These are tiny insignificant things until you can't do them for yourself, but now they are on a checklist of things to accomplish before you get to go home and sleep in your own bed.  The skin itself is healing everyday and still amazes me when I look at it.  There are so many levels to healing a burn.  The skin has an awesome way of healing.  The redness is still a reminder of the awfulness that has happened and I'm sure the pain is still there to remind him.  New skin is there and growing.  The hands that were once covered in bandages are now uncovered and well on their way to healing. We can even hold his hands.  They are smoother than a baby's butt. That fire burned the callouses and roughness right off.   I will never take for granted holding someones hand.  Holding his hand is such a milestone for me, because in my mind, if I could ever squeeze his hand and he could squeeze back it would be OK.  In the next couple of days he will need another skin graft. Some places still aren't healing without a graft to cover the burned flesh.  He's almost there. He has even said himself that he now sees there is a light at the end of this long dark tunnel.  This has changed all of our lives.  It has changed how we think, how we act, how we pray, and how we live.  Heath has taught us that things don't happen by mere circumstance and chance.  He has also taught us that we can't stop trying because we don't get it right the first time.  We learn from trial and error and from experience. We may not be good at it the first time but don't give up.  The hard days are fewer and fewer and the good days are beginning to stick around more and more.   He's come such a long long way in 51 days.  He's endured more than I could have ever went through in one day much less 51 days.  I have been blessed being able to be a part of this whole situation.  I am seeing firsthand how the human spirit and will to live far outweighs self pity and sorrow.  I still can't believe it's happened and it almost seems like it was years ago instead of days ago.  When the doctors think that he has healed enough and have taught us how to care for him and they think we can do it, he will get to come home.  I have been standing around his bedside watching, holding my breath, and waiting for the moment to catch up with me so that I can exhale.


 Let every thing that hath breath praise the LORD. Praise ye the LORD - Psalm150:6

'Til Tomorrow

Quitters

For every finish-line tape a runner breaks - complete with the cheers of the crowd and the clicking of hundreds of cameras - there are the hours of hard and often lonely work that rarely gets talked about.  -Grete Waitz

I'm not sure why I did, but I signed up to run cross country once in high school.  I can't remember why I did it other than a "friend" talked me into it.  She knows who she is, I won't call her name and embarrass her in front of the whole country and point out that she lied to me saying it was so much fun and not hard.  Oh my, did she lie! She couldn't have been more wrong.  I never really trusted her after that. Well as I said, it wasn't easy and it wasn't fun. I ran  at practice and one meet and I decided that cross country was not the sport for me.  What a dumb sport! It's not like you were running up and down a court or around bases! There wasn't any point to it.  I was going to quit.  Period.  No doubt about it.  But then I had the whole "you live under my house, you live by my rules" thing pulled on me, and one of their big rules was that we don't quit what we start.  Dang.  I tried everything I could think of to quit - tantrums, playing dumb, leg/ankle injury, begging, bribery- you name it I tried it.  They were totally stonewalled.  Dang, dang.  To make a long story short, I finished each race and the whole season and didn't quit.  I even set a few records - the first sophomore in history to run a mile in 32 minutes- and that was stopping to cry and throw up.  I learned a few lessons from that cross country experience - 1. I could never trust Tobie , ahem, that girl again, 2. I am not made for speed, 3. I'm not really a long distance runner, 4. I'm not a quitter.  I had done something I hated but I stuck with it and I finished.  My parents had taught me a life lesson that I would be so grateful for later in life.  Many years later, I decided that running was not so dumb and decided I would run a 5K.  I still don't really love running, but I needed to do it.  All the signs were against me doing it.  During one of my runs, I was destressing and using the alone time to sort out some important issues.  I was thinking  about how much I loved Doritos and desperately trying to keep the Indian underwear from crawling, when my dog ran by me. I hadn't gotten very far down the road and my dogs are lazier than me so they don't run- especially away from home.   Now, what I saw was a sign- a sign I should stop and go home.  My dog ran past me with a CORNDOG in her mouth. I don't mean a corn dog stick or even a half eaten corndog.  I'm talking a full uneaten perfect yummy corndog.  I think she may have even been smiling.  She was for sure taunting me, I think she wanted me to quit and follow her to the land of corndogs.  I didn't quit though, I just kept on running. 

Heath has come such a long long way.  The Yankee skin has made a tremendous difference.  It has actually been the big band-aid we have been waiting for.  Those doctors might really know a thing or two.  The burns are still painful and red, but are so much better.  The fight now he is fighting is healing itself.  The skin that is now beginning to heal, itches like crazy.  Itching is a good sign they tell us, but you tell that to the man who has to direct someone where to scratch and how hard.  The constant itching is somewhat relieved by plain ole Benedryl and the simple kindness of others.  Tightening and stretching is another road block.  The skin will tighten and pull as it begins to heal.  If this is not corrected as it occurs, you may have irreversible effects or create a situation that only surgery can fix.  As many surgeries as he has had and as many as he is going to have to continue to have, we don't want any that can be avoided.  The skin can tighten so much it can cause limbs to draw up, mouths to not open, or hands to look webbed.  The thing that combats all of this is physical therapy.  His therapists are top notch, just as every nurse or doctor or staff member that has laid a hand on him. Shannon, his OT, is working him over.  She couldn't wait to get her hands on him.  She loves the fact that he wants to do therapy and he has a drive and a passion to get things back to normal.  She is going to be a major factor in his healing.  The physical therapy was halted for a few days so that the Yankee skin could adhere and toughen up.  Now the green light has been given, and all I can say is that it's on.  Therapy is painful.  The joints, skin and muscles are all sore and tender. The stretching and moving is agonizing. Right now he can only do his arms and hands and can't do those without something for the pain.   He can feel every inch of skin stretch, each muscle move and every joint pop.  She works on him about an hour. He doesn't tell her to stop.  He just keeps on even though it hurts.  He knows it has to be done.  He breathes through it and I'm sure wants to stop, but he doesn't.  He was raised by the same people I was, he doesn't quit.  I told my parents on day 3 that they didn't raise quitters.  WE DON'T QUIT.  That's how they raised us.  We don't give up and I told them Heath wouldn't ever give up, I knew he wouldn't.  He hasn't and he won't.  Quitting is not an option, it never has been and it never will be. 
Heath is running a slow painful race.  Even though he doesn't want to run it, he's not quitting.  

'Til Tomorrow

Top Ten

Don't ya'll just love this fall weather? I love fall.  Every single thing about it -the changing leaves, the cooler temperatures, the sound of a football game on a Friday night - everything!  I always think of fairs and carnivals whenever the weather changes.  I'm sure the Cooty Zoo will be back in town before you know it.  Yes that is what I call the little "carnival" that comes to the Piggly Wiggly parking lot. I have to make something up good so that Paige won't want to go.  Cooty Zoo was pretty descriptive if you ask me.  I'm sorry I just don't trust the traveling death circus, where kids ride until they throw up and the clean up crew consists of a kid named Jr. with a hose and one paper towel. 
A few years ago I broke down and gave into Paige's constant plea's and took her to the state fair.  I figured she was short enough that they would deny her to ride all of the puke-inducing rides, so I went to the Wal-Marts and stocked up on some Germ-X and away we went.  Now I don't know how long it's been since you went to the state fair or any carnival for that matter, but the ride workers are .... how shall I say this..... sometimes in need of dental care or speech therapy.  Well, after we devour 3 seven dollar hotdogs and survive a heart attack from ole Jeremy over the price of everything, we decide to hop on the Merry Go Round.  It's a simple, old, slow ride.  It must be safe and not to hard to operate.  As Paige and I are waiting in line to ride, I start watching our ride operator.  He looked like a homeless man on a date - he was pretty dressed up.  He has the classic fingers cut out of his gloves thing going on- except for the pinky, I wasn't sure why but I didn't ask and a skull cap.  Jeremy looked like the proud Dad he was standing behind Carnie with the camera.  When I got a little closer, I noticed that Carnie had a one tooth.  It was so pretty, it dangled down like a Christmas tree ornament. It kinda moved when he "talked".  Well, it was finally Paige's turn, but she was so young she was a little bit scared.  Maybe it was because I told her she might get worms from that ride, or it could have just been her age.  Anyway, I asked ole Carnie if I could ride with her even though I didn't have a ticket.  Now, I'm not sure if it was the tooth flopping back and forth or the smell of Jack Daniels that had me distracted, but I couldn't understand what he said.  He sounded like he was trying to talk without putting his lips together.  I asked politely "HUH?" and, again he said "uhyocagetonthewwifhewidoncawe".  Then I just stood and stared blankly at him.  He then shouted "UHYOCAGEONTHEWWIFHEWIDONCAWE" and threw his hands up.  I, at this point start to giggle, and told him I just didn't understand. Carnie was not happy, actually he was a little bit mad.    I looked over to Jeremy, who had went from proud Daddy to embarrassed husband.  Jeremy was all red faced and mortified looking, so he screams at me "Get on! He said you could get on there!".   I hurriedly snatch Paige's little arm up and got her on her horse. Then I looked back over at Jeremy and Carnie - I see Jeremy making a circle around his ear and then telling Carnie, "She's just kinda slow sometimes, sorry about that man."  Carnie thinks that is the most hilarious thing he has ever heard in his life and then winks at me everytime I pass by him.  I couldn't stop laughing  so we had to leave when we got off.  I'm not sure who was more embarrassed me, ole Jeremy, or Paige for having two parents who sometimes act goofier than the one toothed merry go round operator. 

I hate it when I can't understand things.  I am a thinker and a planner.  The not knowing drives me crazy.  It causes chaos in my mind and I go round and round with myself over all the questions in my head.  We have asked at least a million questions to the doctors through out this process and I may understand some of things they tell me and then some of them just sound like ole Carnie is answering me. I am always trying to understand what all of this means.  Understanding doesn't always come at once.  It is something that takes time.  Getting the right answers not just the answers you want to hear is a big part of understanding.  We know that Heath is eventually going to be OK.  We know that God is holding our hand this whole way and that ya'll must be praying so hard, because He is listening.   We know that every question we have asked will eventually be answered.  People have asked us a lot of questions too.  I thought I'd list the top ten questions today because ya'll have been so faithful in all of your praying and I know you all feel like you are right there with us.  We wouldn't be able to do it without you.  And I know each one of you loves Heath now - even if you don't him personally.

1. Is he still in ICU?
    * Yes.  Scotty tells him that he is in the Presidential Suite.

2. When will he get out of ICU?
     * We don't know.  He may not.  Sometimes patients go from ICU to home.  As of today, Heath has    been there 42 days. 

3. Is he eating ?
    * Heck yeah! The boy has talked the nurses into bringing him home cooked meals now!

4. Is he mooing yet from the bovine serum that was mixed with his Yankee skin?
      * Not yet. 

5. Is his fever still high?
    * At times.  He still runs a low grade temp most days but the nurses say they haven't seen a burn patient yet that doesn't.  He doesn't have any infections at this time. 

6. Is he in pain?
    * Yes.  Just about all day he experiences pain.  It increases whenever he has to go to Hydro or physical therapy, or when he is being transferred or moved or when I accidentally mashed his ear with a q-tip.

7. Is he craving cheese because of the mouse cells being mixed in with the Yankee skin?
   * No, but I have seen him twitching his nose a lot.

 8. Did the Yankee skin adhere and take?
     * Yes it did!! 75% of the cultured skin took and the Dr said she was pleasantly surprised!

 9. Will he need more skin grafts?
   * Yes he will probably need one more.  There is a place on his back and leg that need some skin.

10. When is he going to get to come home?
     * I don't know, but when he does I'm gonna dance in the street.

'Til Tomorrow

My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys

When you see three cowboys riding in a truck, you can always tell who the smartest is. He's the one sitting in the middle, 'cause he don't have to drive and he don't have to get out and open the gate. 

Cowboys have always been a part of Heath's life.  He's been watching one his whole life.  If you know Heath, you know how he feels about our Daddy.  He's been looking up to him since he could.  He used to live on his every word and everything he did was to try to please him and make him proud.  He couldn't wait to be just like him. He usually did no wrong in Heath's eyes.  He taught Heath  how to rope, ride, and open the gate - because I was the one usually sitting in the middle.  Heath's heroes have always been cowboys - since day one. 

Whenever there is a crisis people will do one of two things.  They will either run and avoid the situation or they will come running in with blazing torches to help.  We are usually the torch blazers.  We would like to think that if any of our friends needed anything we would not hesitate to come and help. During this whole ordeal, we have been touched to see what kind of people live in this world. I know that I have talked about this before, but we are just in awe of the kindness and generosity that people still have. 40 days later we still have people carrying torches.  I have never in my life seen so many people ready, willing, and able to help.  I am still hearing of things that people are doing in honor of Heath from ropings to gun rifles to softball tournaments.  The fact is - we just aren't used to us being on the receiving end of these things.  There is something so humbling about it all.  It is indescribable.  I guess that's why they say that giving is better than receiving. When you are receiving you just want to pay it forward.  You want to make someone feel loved just like you are. 

A roping benefit was held on this past Saturday night for Heath.  According to the ropers, it was a pretty big turnout.  About 300 teams were entered and it was an all day event.  But all of this doesn't surprise me.  Cowboys are kinda like brothers, they like to try to out do each other, but at the end of the day they got each others back.  They just can't help it - I guess it's part of that cowboy code they have all been trying to live up to.  Real cowboys are supposed to come riding in on blazing saddles and save the day.  What every one of  these cowboys did with each dally and catch was give a man in a hospital bed something to carry on.  He knew right then and there how he was going to pay it forward.  He listened to each of the winners names as I called them out and grinned as if he had won each place.  He knew every name and I'm sure he could see each face. The sport that he loved was now giving back to him and it overwhelmed him.  Each time we tell him some of the awesome things people are doing for him he sheds tears, but none like the ones when he saw a picture of the breast collar that the winners received.   He couldn't believe his name was on that beautiful piece of leather.  He was so honored that his friends and fellow ropers would do that for him.  He was the one usually trying to win it. 
Cowboys, I'm talking to all of you right now- ya'll really are what the songs are talking about.  Willie was right - cowboys are special.  Ya'll won't ever know how much you touched Heath that night.  When you pulled your trailer home that night, breast collar or not, you won.  You made people everywhere remember that the legends still live on - ya'll are the boys and girls that people aspire to be.  You have bigger hearts than you do hats.  I hope that each time you swung that rope above your head you had Heath's big ole grin in your mind.  Each and everyone of you live up to your anthem -"Cowboy Up".  Heath's hero's have always been cowboys and ya'll proved it.

'Til Tomorrow

Boy Hyde and Man Hyde

Boy hyde is something we're born with.  Everybody is born with it, whether you are a girl or boy.  Boy hyde comes off easily, especially if you wreck your bike or run fast and skin your knees all up.  We had sort of an unspoken rule in our family about boy hyde, you really couldn't cry whenever it came off because what was going to grow back in its place was MAN hyde.  Tough man hyde.  This was the real stuff you wanted on your body.  It was rugged and durable.  It must have been true because all of my older wiser cousins already knew all this and my Daddy said so.  It would be a few years later when I would stop believing everything he said.  So - when this boy hyde falls off its pretty much an honor.  We always wanted the boy hyde off.  It was weak and wimpy and undesirable. Any time we fell and bled as kids my Dad would say  "Don't cry - you don't want all that sissy boy hyde on there, now the man hyde is gonna grow back. " Oh OK- and then magically it would quit hurting and we'd quit crying and start watching for the man hyde to grow. Sure enough when a few hours later a tough scab was in the place of where that sissy boy hyde was. Scabs were the first step to getting some man hyde.   Now, either I was just a dumber kid than Paige or my delivery of this story is not as good as my Dad's.  Paige fell down the hill one summer at Lake Greason and I tried to tell her about this magical boy hyde and man hyde.  She wasn't going for it.  She cried for about an hour and limped for 2 days.  The boy hyde story may die with her. 


Your skin serves 2 major purposes.  1. It is the body's first line of defense against disease.  Its the barrier that keeps bugs out.  2. It helps to maintain the perfect body temperature of 98.6.  If you don't have skin, you don't have any thing to keep infection out and you can't maintain a level temp.  Temperature control is now hard because your body tries to raise the temp so you won't freeze to death.  The last couple of days the CEA (cultured epithelial autograft) or Yankee skin must get some air to it and dry out for a bit.  All of the dressings are cut down and Heath is put in a sheet tent and then he has hot air blow up his hind end.  The hot air is to help him with temperature control.  He gets cold very easily. The air sometimes can be painful if its blown directly onto the wounds.  This process will last a few more days and then they will put his Michelin Man outfit on him again.  We as a family, have not seen the full extent of the burns since day one.  They have been covered with dressings and not visible to anyone except for the doctors and nurses when they do dressing changes or his daily scrub down (aka HYDRO).  Seeing his face is a little deceiving to people.  His face was burned, but not severely.  He face is pretty much healed up but it  sure doesn't look like the rest of his body.  Burns are just vicious.  Full body burns are just mean.  It looks like he was just licked by flames yesterday. Redness covers the body and you can still feel the heat.   I am not sure how someone can go through this.  No wonder it must take so long to heal.  There is so much to heal.  This is what misery looks like.  This is what suffering looks like. Although my imagination had dreamed something far worse than what I was looking at, it still makes my heart skip a beat.  I realize how very close he was to death.  He was consumed with fire, except for his neck, groin and feet. The entire body.  The whole entire body.  The whole entire body burned.  Every time I think of it, I cringe, my heart hurts, and I get mad.   36 days have brought about much healing, but I see there are many more to go.  The creeping days are the ones where nothing really changes that you can see.  Seeing the full extent of those burns made my admiration for Heath just that much more.  When you can see the big picture, you can appreciate things for what they are.  This was a deliverance from evil, a walk through the valley of the shadow of death.   And I haven't missed a day thanking God for keeping Heath here.  As I looked at his body in amazement of all he had been through, all I could think of was - all the man hyde is off now Heath, but what is going to take it's place is much tougher and better than man hyde. 

'Til Tomorrow.