Microphones

Photograph by Amanda Morgan

I spent last Sunday doing something very out of character for me.  I spent the entire day at a Ropin'.  You can't say "rop-ing" it's not right... you must pronounce it Ropin'.  Glad we got that cleared up.  The Ropin' was a benefit for Heath and again the cowboys didn't disappoint.  Heath even made an appearance wearing his real clothes.   It was the first time he'd worn jeans in almost 3 months.  He looked good.  He looked normal.  He looked (as one of  our smart alec friends put it) like a "family of Mexicans had moved outta them jeans".  Not to worry, the good people from Sarepta and Ivan are trying fatten him up with tons of food being brought just about every other day.  This is the southern way - you can be hurt, but not hurt and skinny.  We love our neighbors and friends.
I missed a once in a lifetime opportunity at the Ropin'. I will never forgive myself for it either.  I missed my father giving a speech.  In a microphone.  Without stuttering.  Kids will probably study about it in history.  It will be right up there with Abe Lincoln's and JFK's speeches.  I even heard that he might be thinking of becoming a professional speaker.  He could be hired out for parties and stuff.  After the "Great Warford Oratory" the Ropin' got underway.  The whole day was another example of just how kind and giving people are.  I was touched to see almost every rider come by on their horse and tell Heath how glad they were to see him or just give him a big grin and then swallow the large lump in their throat.
An act of kindness late in the day made my brother the proud owner of one the saddles all those ropers came to win. A very kind gentleman that won a raffled saddle gave it right back to Heath.  This man was a perfect stranger.  His kindness won't be forgotten.
As I, the black sheep, sat and watched all day the riders and the sport my people love, you'd think I would start to get the fever.  The wrangler fever - as I like to call it.  I will admit that I can appreciate the dedication and skills it takes. This sport ain't for the sissies of the world.  First you really need to know how to ride - and ride well.  Then you have to be able to do two things at the same time- which totally disqualifies me.  I was, however, very interested in one part of the roping and I'm pretty sure that I could excel in.  I was very impressed with that lady in the box with the microphone.  Oh my-  how I need one of those.  There's power in that microphone.  I need one real bad.  She has the best job ever- hands down.  When she called out a name, they all listened.  She was a woman after my own heart.  So, whenever you see Jeremy tell him all I want for Christmas is: one arena, 87 cowboys to boss around, and a microphone.  That's all I want.
Thank you again to the men and women that made this day successful.  And to you - lady in the box with the all powerful  microphone: I love you and your microphone.

'Til Tomorrow

ACME Dingo Boots and a Man

Several years ago I finally won an auction on e-bay for a pair of vintage 1972 ACME Dingo boots. I almost never win anything on E-Bay and if I do I wonder if I am getting the shaft.  Anyway, these boots were stinkin' cute.  They were also a size 7 1/2.  That wouldn't be a problem except I wear an 8.  I just figured I'd wear them without socks.  Or really really thin ones.  The best part was that they only cost me 12 dollars and to my surprise when they arrived they were real boots and not a picture of boots.  I absolutely loved them.  However, my feet did not.  The first opportunity I got to wear them out was a "date" with my husband.  Anything that gets me out of Sarepta and doesn't involve going to Bass Pro or The Home Depot is a "date" to me.  While we were eating at the restaurant I shall not name because I can't remember where it was, we got into an argument over something I shall not discuss - because I can't remember that either.  I'm sure it was Jeremy's fault whatever it was.  Finally after 45 minutes of staring at my steak and potatoes and not speaking we decide to leave.  I was mad, but I was looking cute in my 1972 Dingo boots.  The restaurant must have decided to wax their floors that morning with Crisco. Just as I marched past the bar, thinking mean thoughts about Jeremy - my beautiful, half a size to small boots defied me and I slipped.  The graceful creature that I am- was able to stay off my face and luckily I fell on my booter.  One leg went behind me and the other went way out to the side.  It didn't hurt. Much. Except for my pride.  Jeremy scurried up behind me just as the bar patrons turned from their stools.  I heard an "OOOOOOOO" and then they all gave me a round of applause and someone even whistled. It was a glorious moment.  Jeremy picked me up and rushed me out the doors as fast as he could.  My head never looked up until I was sure I was in the parking lot.  Here I was - mad at my husband for whatever he did to me, humiliated in front of half of Bossier City, feet hurting, and probably a pulled hamstring from my stunt.  As I hobbled back to our car my sweet, loving husband turns to me and asks "So, uh, where do you wanna go next?"  I wish I could say I smiled sweetly and kissed his sweet lips, but I won't lie to you.  Luckily the brain damage has blocked out what I said to him. 
 Unfortunately, I cannot say that was the most embarrassed I have ever been.  I have managed to embarrass myself many times over, but maybe we'll  talk about those another day.
So....... Jeremy tells me the other day that I probably won't be able to blog about Heath forever and I should probably should find something else to write about. I agreed. Sometimes he has good ideas. He's a really good husband/father/man. He still can't find the milk in the refrigerator. Or his underwear or socks. And he reads my texts over my shoulder - which drives me crazy and usually gets him an elbow in the gut. Other than that he's a pretty good guy. That got me to thinking- what in the world am I going to blog about? I guess everything and nothing. I will probably just have rambling thoughts and maybe even a idea every now and then. My hope is to make you laugh and smile. Just laugh - laugh loud - laugh at yourself - laugh at your kids. Life is just hard sometimes, we can fall down and sometimes in front of a lot of people.  I hope you have someone to pick you up or at least help you up.  Laughing makes things so much easier.  If you ain't laughing you ain't living.



'Til Tomorrow

Everywhere I look are signs

The crying started at the hospital.  It was a sad goodbye. All of them hugged him like they were hugging their best friend, not their patient. They kept telling us that we were going to be back, but we all knew it wouldn't be the same. Then Heath did something that took my breath away. He WALKED out those double doors, just like the last 80 days never happened. The same doors that he was whisked through on a stretcher with his life in peril.   I knew he would, but actually seeing it come true was just unbelievable.  He turned to the nurses, lifted up his arms and waved goodbye.  As he walked down the hall, my heart couldn't take it any more.  In that same hall, I had cried so many tears and said so many prayers, along with my family.  It was just too much to hold in.  I hadn't cried many tears in front of him, but now they were nothing but tears of joy.

The ride home was filled with so much anticipation.  The world looked different than it had before.  The landscape was painted with beautiful hues of fall and the air was filled with a chill.  The interstate was filled with cars passing us by.  We were taking the slow ride to home. As we approached Sarepta, the reality hit me.  He was coming home.  It was here.  Then we saw the first sign telling us we had 2 miles left. The signs were proof positive that we are honored to have some of the best friends people can have. Some of them were encouraging, some funny, all were heart warming.   The signs continued on and on until we reached Crow Lake Road.  Our caravan pulled on to the street and we were greeted by more people than we could count.  Men, women, children were there waving and cheering.  It was again overwhelming.  Their anxious faces scanned the cars to finally see Heath in person.  They were almost as happy as we were.  Our friends had made his homecoming just as special as a hero's welcome.  The sweet faces I saw wiped away tears and smiled through cheers.  My heart almost burst. Heath's own driveway held the best spectators.  Gunner and Paige jumped up and down with little excitement filled faces.  If you have never heard joy expressed, then you should listen to the squeal of 2 children greeting a man that has been gone from home way too long.  These little things in life are what matter. 
I watched as Heath walked to greet his welcome crew.  The gigantic grins and handshakes were abundant.  The gentle hugs he received from men and women brought a tear to my already crying eyes.  Then, he did the first thing he said he was going to do.  He just walked around and looked at everything.  I watched him as he looked around, looking at things as if it were the first time he had ever seen them. His horses even came to the fence to greet him.  They nodded and brayed as if to say, "Welcome home my friend".

After the crowd finally thinned, he stepped into his house for the first time in over two and a half months.  We were a finally a family again- right where it all started.  Ironically, Heath lives in the same house he and I grew up in. We had come full circle.  That night I watched something- that if you didn't know our circumstances- would seem so normal to anyone else. Heath sat around his own dinner table and ate dinner just like he had done many many times before. He laughed and talked with his family. He listened to Gunner and Paige tell about their day at school. Then, he went and sat in his recliner to watch the 6 o'clock news.
Heath's journey been so very hard and he has endured more than one man ever should. But then again, we wouldn't know how sweet life sometimes is and how it can be gone in a flash.  We have learned to cherish the good days and still praise Him when they are bad. 
Tonight when you go home and kiss your wife or your husband and your kids hello after a long day at work and you sit down for supper -  remember that somewhere there is someone in a hospital wishing he could be in his recliner watching the 6 o'clock news.  And a family by his side praying to get him back there. 

'Til Tomorrow

To Lyndi: Thank you for the welcome home.  I'm sure you will always let him call you "Aunt".

**Pictures by Sheila Robertson and Andrea Jones Neal - thanks girls!

Wow

Well what can I say... I am just too choked up for words.  I have waited so long for this and I cannot even begin to describe what it feels like.  The only way to perfectly describe it is to hold your breath for 80 days and then finally exhale.   I will blog about this, but not today... I want to get it just right.  So for now I will just say - Heath is home and today was a good day. 

I will leave you with what we left behind at LSUMC... a wonderful sight... an empty room with an empty bed. 

'Til Tomorrow

Our Burn Team

Some people go to work and it's just that - a job.  They are just paying the bills or getting by for now.  But a small few get to go to work and make a difference in peoples lives.......... 

 I have been working for almost 10 years as a hygienist.  Yes, it's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it.  And plus I wear gloves.  And a mask.  And a gown.  And glasses.  And an invisible force field.  I really don't even think of it as gross.  It's just spit and blood  - no big deal to me. Through out all the years of working, I couldn't  help but become a wiser individual. Things you learn in a dental office can be applied directly to your  life and I would like to share them with you.  Although, I have millions of life lessons, this is a blog not a self help book.  So to narrow it down, I have chosen my three most important:

1. Never try to get a "stray" hair off of a  woman's  face - sometimes it's attached. And  don't try to explain what you just did.  Do not say - "Oh I didn't notice it was part of your moustache". Just be quiet and pretend like nothing happened. 

2. When a child tells you they don't like the flavor grape - just believe them.  Do not test your theory that they will grow to like it - unless you enjoy cleaning up Doritos and Air-Head flavored throw up. 

3.When you tell someone to bite- make sure to move your finger.


Some people are blessed to go to work and truly get to change people's lives.  They have the honor of taking a broken person and making them whole again.  If you work in the LSU Burn Unit - you get to do that everyday you go to work.  I will FOREVER be grateful to these people.  For the past 79 days, they have taken care of every need that Heath has had - whether it was physical or emotional.  In the first critical days, Heath was probably the most watched patient they had.  There was not a breath he took or a hand move he made that they did not witness or monitor.  The compassion that they have shown us as a family is unmatched.  They have answered every question that has crossed our lips with professional grace and a confident knowledge.  These men and women are trained professionals that have patient care as their number one priority.  They come to work everyday knowing that they are taking care of someone who is going through the worst, most painful time in their life.  They know that each moment hurts worse than the last and they see what fire devastates.  They are the ones that know how far each and every patient comes.  Each shift that changes is just as good as the one before - the quality doesn't change.  When you talk to Dr. Sittig and Dr. Richardson about their nurses -they are so proud and confident in everyone of them.  If those two Drs. give a compliment you can bet its a pretty high honor.  As much as I can speak good of the professionalism and care they have provided for Heath, I can't speak enough to you about the friendships we have formed with them.  When I say its going to be bittersweet to leave, its because we have found an extended family in these people.  They have brought food for us from their kitchens, cried with us and laughed with us. They are just good people.  We will never forget them. They have made a difference in our lives.   When Heath came off that helicopter on August 25th they already knew he was coming and they were waiting.  When they rushed him through those double doors they began fix what was broken.  I will never be able to repay them.  They saved my little brothers life - plain and simple.   The only thing I can do is offer them my most sincere and humblest "Thank you".


 Dr. Sittig and Dr. Richardson : We are blessed to know you and know your "work".  Thank you doesn't really cover it.  You are the kind of doctors that every patient wants and every medical student should want to be.

Mike: - You have gone above and beyond and we are so grateful.
Big Daddy (aka David), Ryan, Kim, Jessica, Virginia, Jennifer, Susie, Angie, Susan, Debbie, Ann Marie, Dan, Robert Dale,Emily, Heath, Carol,    - Ya'll just don't know how much you mean to us.  Thank you isn't enough. 
Shannon, Shannon and Natalie - He will rope again thanks to ya'll.
Lloyd, Glaydis, Dana, Ms. Linda, Shawn, Janice, Sara, Beverly, Ginger, Cynthia, Scott, Annie, Amanda, Terrie - Ya'll are so precious.  We've come to love you.  Thank you. 
Jewels - You aren't going to be able to get rid of us.  We love you. 
And to anyone else that has had a hand in Heaths recovery at the Burn Unit I have not named (and not by intention - only because of brain damage) : Thank you!

Tomorrow will mark a bittersweet end.  Heath will be discharged from LSUMC and be able to return home.  When we leave tomorrow we won't be gone long, he will be back. But it will be for outpatient clinic once a week so they can assess how he's doing and he will continue his physical therapy there.  The days ahead will not be easy.  There will still be pain and and healing left to do.  There will be days when he doesn't want to do physical therapy.  He will be finding his way - trying to fit back into a world that he was suddenly jerked away from. His journey is not ending here, a new chapter is only beginning.

'Til Tomorrow

Everything that Stays the Same Changes

The shirts are still hung in the closet, all neatly pressed and patiently waiting.  His "good boots" are still by the door looking like they were just kicked off.  I'm sure those light bulbs that are out are ones that he meant to change.  The house still smells the same when you walk in.  Outside, his truck still sits in his driveway, right where he left it 75 days ago.  The dogs are waiting at my house, watching for him.  All the things that he was going to get to tomorrow are still left undone.   The grass has now become dormant and stopped growing and is now a crunchy brown instead of the lush green when he last saw it. The leaves have finally changed into their golds, browns, reds and yellows.  The pool now only holds memories of the summer.  The air is now cool and inviting.  Summer has finally given way to Fall.  Our babies started school and have now learned to read and recognize words. An entire season of high school football has passed.  The state fair has come and gone.  Halloween is now just empty candy wrappers and a buggy full of reduced costumes at the Wal-Marts.  We blinked and August turned into November. 
 Even though at first glance you would believe that everything is the same at his house just waiting for him to walk through the door, life has gone on.  Even though we have missed everything around us, we know that next time it will be sweeter and not taken for granted.    Sometimes it felt like walking through a long dark tunnel, feeling our way around.  Then we would feel someone grab our hand and lead us through another day.  I believe these were your prayers that you prayed. These prayers you not only prayed, but you believed with all your heart.  And they came true.  We saw the light at the end of the tunnel a long time ago we just had some walking and hand holding to do.  Now, finally we are reaching the light at the end of the tunnel.  The light happens to be Crow Lake Road - home sweet home.  Heath knows as well as our whole family that this is not where we go back to our regularly scheduled living, but now instead of a tunnel we see a field- a field of opportunities and dreams.   Wait- maybe Heath sees a roping pen instead of a field - those are really just fields without grass anyway.

Since the beginning, people have consistently asked me two questions : How is Heath ? and When is coming home? - Well ya'll - Friday November 12, 2010 Heath is coming home.  Get your dance moves ready.  (and your tissues! )

                                                    Picture edits by Amanda Sexton

Casts

Home is where the heart is.
I bet ya'll have seen that on a billion signs or plaques or pillows. I think that in the South it's kind of a motto.  I haven't really every thought about what it means until just now. I guess that home isn't really where you live its where you stay at the moment.  It's where you find love and comfort.  It might not be at the house you pay for every month.  It may be at your work if you have a wonderful work family, or in your car if you love driving, or maybe its your hometown.  It could even be in a small little hospital room in the burn unit of LSU. It's where you would find countless pictures of loved ones and drawings from children and cards of comfort on the walls.  It's where you'll find chocolate in the corner and an I-pod playing familiar songs on the table.  It's also where you will find family members gathered around a hospital bed visiting just like it was a dinner table.  That's where we have called home for the last 71 days. 

Since last Monday, after the surgery, the donor site was giving Heath so much pain.  The pain wasn't being relieved because of a couple of reasons.  When you are on pain medication for such a long time you will eventually build a tolerance to and also whenever you have harvested 3 times from one site in the last 60 days, the site might be a little tender. To help with the pain, the wonderful doctors and nurses decided to "install" a pain pump.  This pump delivered I.V. pain meds continuously and then Heath controlled when he needed a "boost" and with a push of a button he had some small relief.  During these days the pain was about as unbearable as it has been.  It's never fun to watch someone hurt, but watching someone who has already had to endure some of the worst pain imaginable, it just seems plain old unfair.  Time sometimes is the only thing will heal some pain and that is exactly what happened.  The pain has subsided some and he is able to walk and continue on with physical therapy.  
When burns heal there is a complication that will arise if physical therapy does not counter it - contracture scars.  These are scars that could become very detrimental if left unattended.  What happens is this- normal elastic connective tissue is destroyed and what grows back in its place is inelastic fibrous tissue.  These scars will resist stretching and will limit mobility.  If physical therapy isn't done then these scars will become very hard and surgery will have to be done.  Sometimes even with stretching and physical therapy, surgery will still have to be done.  This week Dr. Sattig and Shannon were worried that his arms are developing contracture scars so they decided that he would need a cast on his arms.  As of Tuesday he has been fashioning a cast on the right arm.  It will help to hold the arm straight and keep the contracture scar from becoming hard in the bent position.  Tomorrow, the right cast will come off and they will put one on his left arm.The left one will be left on until Monday.
His burns are healing nicely and there are only a few that are covered with dressings.  This is a huge change from the Michelin  Man we are used to seeing.  Now that he is so close to coming home the staff is preparing him for that day.  Heath is like their baby in a way.  They have seen him at his most vulnerable and have nursed him back from the brink of death.  They have seen him through the most horrible experience of his life and they all have a close bond with him.  71 days with a patient is a long time to become acquainted with your patient and their family and it didn't take them that long to fall in love with him.  I told them from the beginning that they would love Heath and they all do.  They care about everything he does - right down to his beard growth.  I know that Heath can't wait to get out, but I'm sure leaving a place behind that has cared for him when no one else could is a bittersweet moment.  Heath will be home in just a few short days and we cannot be more thrilled. Lord willing - it will be next Friday.  We are about to get what we have been praying for : Sweet Homecoming - our hearts will be home. 

'Til Tomorrow