The kind of man

He could still feel her kiss on his lips. As he ran through the fire, he could only hear Casey's last whispered words to him- Be Careful. As he finally got away from the engulfment of flames he ran towards what he knew was woods. The fire was still burning- he could feel it. Putting it out was the only option. The only resemblence of a shirt was the collar left around his neck. The fire had burned it before devouring the skin below. His jeans were now mere ashes. His leather belt left what now looked like a tattoo of unburned skin around his waist. The spurs on the back of his boots made a clang clang sound with each step he took. His breathing was heavy and labored. He ran into the night as fast as his legs would carry him. As he ran her words echoed in his mind and a little round face with a toothless smile filled his eyes. He had to keep going. He couldn't stop, not until he got to that house. The cool air all around him was no comfort for his charred body. The house he was looking for finally came into view. As he approached the house he began to scream for help. No one looks out a window, no one yells back. Barking dogs greeted a scantily clothed stranger as he walked onto the carport. "Mrs. Melba please help me! I been burned! Call 911! " he calls out as he kicks on the door. Someone yells from the inside "Do I need to call 911?" "Yes! Please." As she opens the door and sees this scared, burned man, her heart skips a beat. She hurries to call for help and then back to the hurt man on her carport. She asks him who she can call for him and he tells her his Daddy and gives her the phone number. He asks for water and she helps him drink the cold, quinching liquid. As they sit there waiting for help to arrive, he apologizes for at least the third time for waking her up. She chastises, "Heath! Stop apologizing!". As the precious minutes pass, he realizes that his injuries are life threatening. He looks at his guardian angel and says, " If I don't make it please tell my little boy, Gunner, that I love him." She looks at him in awe and promises that she will. The ambulance roars into the drive with sirens blaring and lights flashing. As they open up the back doors and prepare to get a patient up off the ground onto a stretcher, they watch in amazement as he gets up and WALKS into the ambulence. They race away into the chilly evening and he begins his journey.

Heath's incentive to get to that house that night was a little boy that he still had to teach to read. He still had to take him to Disney World. He had to watch him play his first pee wee football game. He had to teach him how to drive and comfort him when that first girl breaks his heart. There are so many reasons to live. He couldn't leave, he had to stay. He had to tell him that he loved him one more time and feel his arms around his neck.

Melba didn't have to keep her promise that she made to Heath that night . She didn't have to tell Gunner that his Daddy loved him. Heath got to do that - And tonight, he did it face to face and heart to heart. On day 30 Heath laid his eyes on that little boy that loves cars, monster trucks, and his new bicycle. Gunner got to put his arms around his daddy and warm his heart.

Gunner - Never doubt how much your daddy loves you. I hope that one day you will read this and know exactly what kind of man your daddy is. He's the kind of man everyone wants on their team. He's the kind of man that people will call when they need help and he will go in a heartbeat. He's the kind of man that will honor promises. He's the kind of man that people will line up to give blood for. He's the kind of man that will walk through fire to be with you.

'Til Tommorow

Chili dog dinner night

I have been watching Heath throw up for 25 years. He threw up so much it was no big deal for us. We'd be eating at the dinner table and some bread would get stuck in the roof of his mouth and he'd just throw up right in his plate of Chili Dogs. It was so routine that me and Daddy didn't even move- we just turned our head and kept on eating. Mom would fix him another plate and after he went and washed his face we would just go about our dinner conversation. Everything made him throw up : roast, bread, the smell of McDonalds, or riding in a car. I have seen my mother, while driving, catch puke in her hands and manage to keep it between the ditches. She's talented. She has cleaned up more throw up than any school room janitor with cedar chips. Gagging was a regular occurrence. I have seen the boy think about something nasty and then throw up just from the mere thought. At the height of the throw up years, Heath would "claim" that a shirt touching the back of his neck was the cause of on embarrassing throw up episode. It was just adikalus! (Adikalus- a "Paigism" and another word for ridiculous.)

Something being forced down anyone's throat is awful, but for Heath it was his worst nightmare coming true. He was intubated for 13 horrifying days. The vent tube was a life line. It helped him breathe and kept an airway open for any disasters that might happen. Most of the time you are unconscious when you tubed. General surgery is what you think of whenever you are tubed- short periods of time. Not 13 days! Whenever you already have a gagging problem and then you wake up with something down your throat - terror and confusion sets in. The tube is forced from your mouth all the way down to your bifurcation of your lungs. It passes by the vocal cords and has a bulb inflated so that it can't be pulled out easily. Heath fought the tube. The nurses had to finally restrain his hands. His every motion, thought and lipped word was a attempt to get that tube out. Every breath was always his own. The Evil Machine was there just in case. Pushing the wonderful life sustaining oxygen deep into his lungs. Each passing day he was increasingly aware if his situation. The panic that was on his face is burned into my mind forever. Finally after some of the swelling had decreased he was finally able to communicate with more than a head nod. His eyes were open and his lips moved furiously. What was he saying? What does he want? I could read every word. Help me. Those were the first words I could read. Help me. Help me. Help me. He was begging and pleading for help. I think I actually felt my heart shatter. I know what was going through his mind. Then he said it and I read his lips - "I'm choking." I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help him at all. All I could do was tell him that it will be OK . It was going to be fine. I kept telling him that it would be out soon. It had to be. Watching his hands go as far as they would go towards his face, was agony. We knew he was motioning for us to pull that tube out. He kept mouthing he needed to get up. In his mind he would be OK if he could just get up and get the tube out. Every visit, every hour, every conversation for 13 solid days was about how soon we would get that tube out. Sometimes he would ask- when. Sometimes he would ask- why were they doing this to me. After a few days he was mad, upset and just plain pissed off. Big Daddy and his fellow nurses earned their money that week. They had to continually had to put his legs back on the bed and tell him to stop kicking or beating on the side of the bed. Then there would be times of shear exhaustion and frustration - and then you could see him sobbing. My mother leaned to his ear and said "I know baby, I wouldn't let them keep that tube in your throat any longer than it has to. Keep fighting. Please don't give up now, we've come to far". Any mother that has to watch her child in shear agony experiences it for herself also. Those were the 13 longest days of her life. Those were the 13 longest days of Heath's life.

Every time we talked to a doctor we asked when, when, when. They would always say soon, maybe tomorrow. Finally on day 13, tomorrow finally came. When the nurse came through the door and casually said "Hey yall wanna see him? Its out" , I thought Dad and I would trip each other getting back there. It was better than Christmas morning. His voice was raspy and his voice was low, but it was his voice. He knew who we were and even asked how we were.

Fortunately Heath doesn't remember those 13 days on the vent. They are forever in my mind, and forever in my memory.

Til Tomorrow!

Yo Adrian!

I went to Wal-Mart today without whooping a kid. Of course, she wasn't with me. Jeremy had been smuggling bootleg toilet paper into our house for about a week and we were chaffing so Charmain had to come back to the Timmons residence. I'd been dreading this trip. It only cost me $100, an hour and a half of my time and a bucket of tears. I don't think I've ever cried so much in a Wal-Mart. I just couldn't stand there and let these people cry alone. It's unsouthern to have someone in your presence crying and you don't even shed a tear, so I cried right along with them when they asked about Heath, or told me how sorry they were. I can't tell you how many stories that I hear like : He used to wave at me every morning or He would grin big every time I saw him at the store. Everyone feels that human connection. That thing that makes us all feel like a big family. Everyone loves to see those big white Chiclet teeth shining into a big warm smile. Everyone is ready to see that smile.

Whenever anyone asks how he is doing, I'm cautioned about answering. I try not to blow sunshine and make things seem like they are wonderful. I don't want to take away from the progress that he's made and make it sound like he is doing terrible. So I mostly say - "He's holding his own." The nurses and doctors are impressed by his progress and his strong will. Burnies (I just made up that term - its not technical or anything) are so slow to recover. Some days are a carbon copy of the day before. They will have the same pain, the same fever, the same aches for 2-3 days at a time. And then the next day you will finally see progress. You know it's eventually going to happen but its going to take some time. What we are waiting on is nature. We are waiting for skin to grow. It's slow and tedious. Precious skin that Heath doesn't have right now. When it does grow, we will take this precious skin and use it as donor sites for grafting.

Progress does happen, just take today for instance on day 23 in the Burn ICU. Cue the Rocky Theme... no really start humming it in your head. Therapy has started. Shannon (the awesomest OT)- So you think you want to walk today? Heath - Yeah Hell Yeah . Heath swings his legs slowly and painfully off the side of the bed. He steadies himself to a standing position and walks to the door. It feels good to put two feet on the floor. As they make it to the doorway, he decides he can go a little further - to the nurses station. One by one he takes slow, painful, wonderful steps. Shannon and Big Daddy are beaming like two proud parents. He turns to make the journey back to the bed. Daddy can't hold the tears back any longer. It must be better than watching him walk for the first time 26 years ago. Casey and Jeremy hold each other up and enjoy one of the sweetest moments we have had in a long time. The walk is only 10 feet but the accomplishment is that of running a marathon. Just like that terrible, horrible morning when God was there guiding him through the fire - He was here today guiding his first steps to recovery. The road to recovery is long, slow and painful. Every little thing is going to be a fight and a struggle. And he may not win the first time. Endurance is the key. Stamina and strength will win out.

Just remember- Rocky didn't win that first fight, but he got up and he fought again.

'Til Tomorrow

One step down...many to go

Some of you might not know it, but I'm kind of the black sheep of the family. I don't know a thing about horses. I don't know the difference between a lead rope and a saddle horn. I don't rope or ride. I don't eat mayonnaise or even drink sweet tea. I know - you should probably sit down after that one. I'm just different. But I'm OK with it. Now the other people in the family are all ropers, riders- cowboy lovers. Heath really loves cowboys. Heath really loves one cowgirl.

Casey...... doesn't her name just roll off your tongue? Dear sweet Casey. She said her dad really thought her name was spelled KC for a long time. I think he thought it was short for Kickin' Cows or something like that.

She came all the way from Idaho to find Heath. That's what he tells her and everyone else that will listen. Since the first time I saw them grinning at each other like two possums eating grapes, I knew that they were in love. Icky, sweet, slobbery love. And I couldn't be more happy. She has been a bright spot in our lives.

Her role in Heath's recovery is vital and essential. On day 6 he opened his eyes and found she was there. He later told me he dreamed that she had left. But she hasn't left. She stays by his side as long as the nurses will let her. She is there when he wakes and she is the last thing he sees when he shuts his eyes for the night. She is the calm in his storm. I've watched her look at him as he fights the fever and pain. She's wishing she could make it better for him. It kills her to see him in agony. When the pain subsides for a few moments and he wakes from a nap - he beams and says " Hey Babydoll!". I'm sure her heart melts all over again.

Today was a victory. After 22 days in Burn ICU, Heath stood and took his first step. It was glorious, courageous, and painful. One day soon he will walk out of the Burn ICU. His journey is just beginning and I will be cheering him on the whole way.

'Til Tomorrow

Crying Steel Toe Boots

During the first week, we had so many visitors. We had security called on us a couple of times. LSU police had to come and tell us to clear the halls. Bunch of dudes in steel toe boots and tear stained faces wandering the halls at LSU hospital is a very scary sight to some people. I can't stand to see men in steel toe boots cry. It is like a reflex, I just cry right along with them. All those boys that Heath worked with, went to high school with, rode the back roads with - they were all there. They were terrified - right along with us. They all had a memory in their mind of Heath that they were hanging onto. Maybe it was that big grin or that song they drank a cold one to, or maybe the football game that they won. It was all over their sweet, sad faces. I could barely look at them without crying. My memory was from my wedding reception when I decided that people weren't enjoying "Mustang Sally" enough, so I decided to jump up on the stage and "sang"it. After a few lines, Heath decided I shouldn't be alone in embarrassing myself and climbed up there with me. A strategic music stand hides my face in the picture above which I'm sure looks similar to Heath's - so I owe a big fat thank you to that music stand. Hang onto those memories - it's going to get you to the day when we can make more.

The people that visited were friends, extended family, and some strangers. The strangers that came to comfort us already had a bond to us. Burn survivors. Burn survivors... did you hear me? These were people that had went through what Heath was going through and was sitting here talking to us and they were OK. They were beautiful. They were strong. They were survivors. Their stories will make grown men with stone hearts cry. Three families visited us and shared their awesome stories.

One man had everything go wrong that could - but he walked out of that burn unit. After being burned over 70% of his body, he missed his helicopter to LSU, then on day 2 had a heart attack. Then a blood clot threatened the health of his leg. His wife had signed papers to amputate, then God stepped in and decided he needed both legs. As he and his wife described the trauma and devastation that they had been through, I watched my parents finally breathe a sigh of relief. They hadn't been breathing for 5 days. The tears they were crying now were that of relief and joy. They knew it would be OK. The fear loosened its grip on them and we thanked Billy with a big bear hug.

Vanessa, a beautiful woman and southern belle, had been involved in a plane crash. The small plane crashed into a wooded area and she and 3 others walked through woods, with briar's tearing at her burned flesh, and climbed fences to find a highway. A passing truck stopped and she climbed into the bed of the pickup and was carried to a hospital.

Scotty was a welder that was burned at a compressor station. He aspirated the "drip" and had severe internal burns. The doctors could not keep their hands in his "guts" to assess the damage because the heat was so intense. That day he was there to give the doctors a hat and shoes -as a souvenir from a trip he had been on. He's family to them. He said they saved his life and he is forever grateful.

These beautiful people are in a club - the burn survivors club. And without ever meeting Heath to see if he qualified to be in the club, he was accepted as the newest member. He is going to hurt and we are going to have to watch, but he is going to survive and be stronger than ever. After the tube came out and he could finally talk, he said to me "A, the doctors said if I worked hard and worked with them I will be 100% of the man I was before" and I looked him in the eye and said "Nope, Heaf, you're gonna be 150% of the man you used to be. You'll be a better man because you survived this".

Til Tomorrow!

Cheese Graters

As we go on 21 days in the ICU, we have become buds with most of the nurses. Some of them have not come to love us - yet. Big Daddy is Heath's favorite. We'll talk about him later. He's the only man I think that could give Casey a run for her money. Day to day life in ICU is always different. One day you hear one thing and the next day it is totally different. Yesterday we thought we may be getting that feeding tube out but today - for now at least- it's still there. It's there to supply high protein yellow goo into Heath's tummy. He can eat anything he wants but this goo supplies the calories needed until his full appetite is back. He said the goo tasted like Orangey-salty snot. Mmmmm... give me some of that please ! Nurses have a funny sense of humor - they usually come in with the bag of orangeysalty-snot with a big ole grin on their face yellin' "It's feeding time!". Weirdos.

Speaking of nurses- Have you ever seen a nurse wash a newborn for the first time? Did you think - dang that nurse must hate that baby.

Now imagine that you're sunburned. This is the worst sunburn you have ever had, and its everywhere - back, head, face, legs, arms, hands, ears under your arms, backside of your legs - everywhere except your feet, groin area, and neck. Now - imagine babyhater is wielding a cheese grater. That is what a full dressing change is like. The pain is so intense that just laying there is almost unbearable. Breathing is now painful. Sheets are too heavy. A pat on the arm is too painful. Talking uses too much energy. Comfort is not found. Thank goodness for good nurses and good doctors and good ole morphine. It works fast and it can be given intravenously which means its almost instant. I, myself, can tolerate pain- for at least 5-10 seconds. I believe in pain medicine. You want to know why God gave us pain- so we could ask for pain medicine. Pain medicine = good. God also knows how much we can handle and never gives us more than we can bear. He must think a lot of Heath. Morphine does something strange to Heath. It causes him to float. He asks us to make sure he doesn't float away. We put our hands on his shoulders an make sure that doesn't happen. As the morphine drowsiness begins to take its toll we hear a mumbled, "Thank ya'll, thank ya'll".

Vince Lombardi once said " The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack of will". Well I believe that Heath has the will.

Til Tomorrow!

Booters

I decided that since sometimes facebook only allows a mere 420 characters on a status update and I have a ton more to say I would try to blog about Heath's recovery. I will try to blog the good and the bad. It's going to be hard. Telling someone that pain is going to be inevitable is so hard. When you see someone hurt - someone that you love - it's agonizing. I'm gonna try to blog with a little humor mixed in so that maybe I will laugh through the tears. Lord knows I have shed the tears. I will sometimes have to give ya'll a vocabulary lesson so that you will be able to understand these posts. Just for example : booter - another name for behind, butt, booty. So when I say "Heath was burned on his booter", you will understand what I mean. Usually these slang term came from our kids, but sadly some were coined by full blown adults. Just in case you are wondering Paige came up with booter on her own.

So back to Heath- today is a full dressing change under general anesthesia. What the wonderful doctors and nurses do is go in and unwrap all of Heath's bandages and take off all the dressings underneath. Just to give you a visual - he sorta looks like Michelin Man wrapped from chest down to his legs. After they get him unwrapped, they look at the 3rd degree burns to make sure no infection has set in and then check to see that the 2nd degree burns are healing up nicely. What they do at this point makes my stomach do a little flip - they "scrub" - (their word not mine) all the dead skin off so that new skin can start to grow. Today they will also evaluate the hands and make sure that skin grafts are taking. I think they are also going to make sure he doesn't have any bottlecaps in his hands too. This is a frequent question asked to us by Heath, for some reason he is convinced he is holding bottlecaps. We don't want to lie to the boy so we are going to get on that little mystery. After this little ordeal, comes the pain and fever. We just sit by him and assure him it will pass. Then, we pray that it will.

Til Tomorrow!