Nine Months...Whoa Baby

It's been nine months and no baby. More like nine months of labor pain.
I feel like I have the same hormones flowing through my body.
One moment I'm victorious and the next I'm feeling all the feels.

Here is the overall update...
Nerve pain is still my enemy. Basically I am in pain daily. It fluctuates between nagging and full blown stabbing, put me in bed, and leave me alone to whimper. I've been told it could be a year before the nerves heal...or longer...or never.
I move slowly on stairs. I ease myself in and out of cars. I can't jump up or flop down on a couch.
I finished physical therapy. A few of the exercises help provide a little relief. Nothing removes all of the pain.
I've been referred to an osteopath and I'm hopeful that manipulations will relieve the nerve pain.

We have joined the local Y.
Prior to the accident I had lost 20 lbs and immediately following the accident another 10 lbs. Sadly I have put all 30 lbs back on.
I'm hoping that I can just get back into walking and a solid healthy eating plan.
Slow and steady weight loss and building muscle will help relieve some of the pain.
But also boost my mental image of who I am.

We have a new lawyer and he asked us to send the pictures of my injury to the practice.
Keep in mind I had not seen the full blown bum in it's "glory". I had to transfer the pictures one by one from Terry's file to my Dropbox...and...I didn't vomit. It was like sharing my c section pictures. Without the sweet babe in my arms as the last image.
I had no clue...well I did, I had my own image in my head.
Now I have seen what Terry had to look at on a regular basis.
I get why he said it looked like someone shot a cannon ball in my bum and it didn't go all the way through.
He calls my scar Franken-crack. It's endearing.

In the end...still makes me giggle...we are alive, we find humor in every situation, we have been blessed with friends who have gone above and beyond, we have faith that our prayers will be answered, we help each other to breathe, we have redefined what adventure looks like.

Here is to the birth of a new and improved #happyplacefarley.

Celebrating Six Months

Here we are. November 14, 2017.
Six months out from the bum hitting the pavement.
The image above? #truth
I live life day by day, yet always hopeful I can push a little further than I did the day before.
I try not to subject my self esteem to the downward spirals. When I do I consider this...

My reality;
I still can't dance...I shuffle.
I can travel and walk and explore cities...NYC for example. Crowds make me nervous.
I started physical therapy.
My physical therapist is amazing. (I think it's because her name is Sarabeth...just like my phenomenal cousin). I informed Sarabeth yesterday I have an additional goal...to dance again.
Because of PT I see how truly limited I have become in my flexibility.
Because of PT I have found complete painful joy as Sarabeth manipulates my ribs and sciatica.
My bum can tell you where each pot hole is on 127, 94, and Washtenaw Ave.
Terry still has to do a bum check each morning...there is one small portion of the wound that has not fully healed yet.
I have discovered that the damp Michigan weather plays havoc on my spine and ribs.
Nerve healing on the pita pockets feels like a knife in the bum.
My friends push me and help heal me.
I am blessed with one outstanding surgeon and nurse at Michigan Medicine in Dr. Napolitano and Nurse Kathy.
My love always expects more of me, cheers me along, makes jokes, helps me up/down difficult steps, and holds me through my tears.
I miss our motorcycle and still mourn it's loss.
I know new adventures await us.
So it's down and up. Old and new. Stop and start. Tears and laughter. All in any given day.
I'm blessed.

“There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn't matter anymore.” 
―Laurie Halse Anderson

“You can get the monkey off your back, but the circus never leaves town” 
― Anne Lamott, Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith

Bum deal...

Last Saturday was the first time I looked at the clothes I was wearing at the time of our accident.
My shirt and one of my favorite sweaters were cut off me due to my spinal fractures and broken ribs.
(Although I am not quite sure how the way too old bra was saved)
Above are my jeans.
That big gaping hole...
Yep, my bum deal.

Obviously I have had plenty of time to reflect, pray, listen, contemplate, and generally...wait.

During this time I have attempted to remain positive and focus on the obvious blessing that I am alive. Many of you, dear friends, have commented on my positive outlook, the grace I have handled it all, and ability to laugh in the face of a pain in the arse.
Well. There are days I didn't reflect that and I want to be sure to be honest with you.
Days where I laid in bed and whimpered. Days where I was just plain done with someone having to clean and bandage me. Days where I wanted to sit down without thinking of how and where to sit. How long will I have to sit? Are the seats cushioned? How many potholes are on that road? Should I take another route? I'm sick and tired of wearing the same clothes because they don't pinch the wound or stitches. Having to be concerned about bumping into someone or something in a crowd. Tired of documenting my pain relievers.
Yet, in the end (ha) I am blessed.
My spinal x-rays came back clear this week.
My wound is healing.
So I take my detours and find new ways to travel. Seat cushions stay in both cars in case the seats are hard. I have found new ways to travel Jackson and relish the newly paved roads. I went thrifting and picked up a few new tops and skirts.
Minor repairs, but they help.

During this time I have thought about how do I respond to others when they are in need of service?
I have been blessed to have a handful of people who have been...lifesavers...for three months they have helped with household chores, sent me messages, given medical advice, listened to me whine and cry, looked at the yucky bum pictures, have driven me to appointments, have provided laughter and light.
How do  pay it forward? Because I know not one of them would ask for a pay back.

During this time I have been flooded with love from Terry. He has shown patience when I have been weepy. He has pushed me to do a bit more daily. He put me to bed when I needed more rest. He has fed me. Bathed me. Held me.
And looked at this bum deal almost daily since May 14th.
He jokes that he is making deposits into our emotional account for when I need to take care of him...but somehow being a fully functioning adult and having someone take care of your most basic needs feels like a huge debt to pay back.
I will.
Gladly, with interest.

My lovelies...
This bum has been an ordeal.
It's not over yet, but the largest portion is complete.
Thank you for your prayers, support, concern, and laughter.

Now, onto new adventures with my love.

Joan Rivers, Meg Ryan, Michael Jackson...and me!

Last post I introduced you to KCI Wound Vac. 

My dandy little friend that goes with me everywhere. Every. Where.

Let me give a little more detail to our relationship. 

There is a sponge that is cut to the size of my wound. Placed on the wound. Tubing. Adhesive bandage over most of my bum. Vac is turned on. Canister collects the yuck.

For those of you who are medically or technically curious here is a simple diagram.  

What we have been working on since June 3 and rapidly since June 21 is the granulated tissue and new tissue growth. 

I had a wound that measured 30 centimeters x 30 centimeters. This was not all an open wound but also included tunneling. Think pita pockets on my bum. 

Two weeks ago we got the word that it was time for surgery.

The wound measures 6.5 centimeters x just under 7.5 centimeters. 

It has lovely granulation.

Red and meaty. 

Hopefully we are at the last stages of this journey.

Originally they had mentioned a skin graft.The skin graft was dumped due to the amount of movement, stretch, twist, etc on the bum. 

The surgeon felt that a graft would not take well to that area.
Remember, I cracked my crack.

Alas...I will join the ranks of Joan, Meg, Michael. Plastic Surgery.

Plastic Surgery it is. Monday.
They will take the healthy under layers and pull them together.
Taking my O shaped open wound and making it a | shape.
Wound vac back on. Goal is for a shorter period of time. Month maybe?
The surgery is outpatient.
I have joked that maybe there will be book where I can pick out the bum I want.
I am grateful for laughter. It does promote healing.
I'm grateful for advancement in medical research for the KCI Wound Vac. I know without it I would not be at this stage of recovery.

Thank you for your prayers, candles, happy dances, and well wishes.
Monday it is.
See you on the backside.

Let Me Introduce My Support Team.

Let's start with these two...

On the top let me introduce thoracic-lumbar-sacral orthoses, (TLSO)

Thankfully TLSO, or also known as clam shell was only around for two weeks. She was supportive yet very unforgiving. 

She did have a sweet little block M on her. 

I truly was ready to be done with my turtle impersonation so when the thoracic surgeons said I could stop she came off that evening. 

There are moments when I still feel weak but that is due to a weak core not the lack of TLSO. 

Below..KCI wound vac. Negative-pressure wound therapy (NPWT) is a therapeutic technique using a vacuum dressing to promote healing in acute or chronic wounds and enhance healing of second and third degree burns. I am the acute wound patient.

Warning, should you Google pictures of wound vacs be prepared for some gory images. 

My trusty wound vac has been with me since June 5. An abscess was diagnosed on June 3 and built up over time from the initial hit on the pavement and the added pressure from the TLSO. After 700+ cc's of blood and ick were removed during surgery I was packed with eight rolls of dressing until the 5th when KCI arrived. 

He goes with me everywhere.

Everywhere. In a fashionless black purse.

I'm fairly conscious of his tubing that runs from the purse to the dressing on my bum. I attempt to cover him as much as possible with long tunics.

His little motor likes to hum...or basically make a little fart noise... at the most inopportune time. Like in the lull of a conversation with friends. 

He will remain with me until the wound on my backside has healed/filled in to certain measurements or no new growth is occurring.

At that time a skin graft will be required. No worries, I'm sure a blog post will follow that event.

My support team from there?

Always, my love. 

Terry provides humor, picks up what I can't reach with my new found monkey toes, lifts what is too heavy for my back, plants flowers to brighten my daily view, and sends updated pictures of my bum to my remote nurse practitioner in Oregon. 

Then there is Silver, my remote NP. 

She advises and encourages at all hours of the day. 

Makes sure I know which supplements to take to support my healing body.

She reminds me that I have proven myself to have Wonder Woman status. 

Peanut. She calls. She texts. She goes with me to doctor appointments. She goes with me for peanut butter ice cream. Can't ask for more. 

My home visiting nurse can't be overlooked. Chris.

He arrives three times a week to change my wound vac dressing. 

He's gentle with removing the dressing as he knows it causes me anxiety.

We casually chat about places around town, events happening, wildlife in our yards.

It's simple and easy.

The former coworker who has sent me a meme/joke everyday since May 19. Every. Day.

There comes a point after an accident where you feel like others have forgotten you are still limited in your interactions and abilities. I get that. The days when I when I felt like I was forgotten those silly punny meme brightened my day. 

Then...all those who have sent meals, helped with laundry or the yard, sent texts or FB message to check on me. 

Some days I think it's only been two months since the accident. What more could I expect?

And some days I think it's only been two months since the accident. Time flies. 

There is still much further to go.

But I think I have a solid team. 

Thirty Minutes On M 52...Finding the Silver Lining

We did it. A few weeks ago Mr. Z and I purchased a Harley Davidson. It's red. It's comfy. It's fantastically loud. Beyond that you will have to ask him the details. 

He has been a rider for many years. I had some experience as a passenger while in college. It was time we took to the road together.

I started this above entry on May 7, 2017. One week before our accident, I had titled it "Who Are Your People?" How things change...

I figured I'd use this time of recovery to document the process. Just as I did my divorce and journey to new life. Because this is a new life. A learning process for me, for Terry (no longer just Mr Z), for us as a couple.

I'll start with the weekend of May 14, 2017. That weekend we had traveled to Ft Wayne, IN, Goshen, IN and back home. All on the Harley. Loving each minute. The wind, the smell, the sounds, open fields, other riders giving the Harley wave. We were close physically yet had our minds to ourselves. 

Then on Mother's Day we woke to another gorgeous sunny cool day. We rode the bike to church. After we had lunch with our tribe then set out to ride up to Hell, MI on our way to see my kids for Mother's Day in Chelsea. When we arrive in Stockbridge, MI we realized we didn't have enough time to make it to Hell and back in time. (shouldn't we all have that thought ;) ). We put on our Harley coats as it was cooler than we had originally thought and headed toward Chelsea. *note-we always wore helmets, it was never a question. 

We had been following the same old Ford pick up for miles. We came to a roundabout and what we didn't realize was the truck was down shifting the entire time through and out of the roundabout. Next thing we knew...brake lights. Not slowing down brake lights...stopped brake lights and no turn signal as he was turning into the convenience store. Terry's only safe option was to lay the bike down. He held on and rode it out for about 50 ft. I came off the back when the trunk hit. The woman who was the witness behind us said I went "flailing down the road". Not clear on what flailing means or looked like but I imagine it wasn't graceful. 

First responders, state trooper, EMS...all arrived in moments. At least to me. Terry might have a different take. 

I had lost consciousness for a short period of time... Although I also believe adrenaline and the mind will help protect us from certain memories...so off to University of Michigan as I was considered a trauma case. I find humor in that as well. 

Friends arrived to be with us. *note-be sure they can handle the description of your injuries and they won't start to pass out...only adds to the colorful story later :). Terry was checked out. Some gravel in his hands, small patches of road rash on his shoulder, elbow, and knee. Otherwise my strong love was healthy and safe. Me? A total of seven fractured vertebrae, three broken ribs, hairline fracture in my pelvis and tailbone, level 2 lacerated spleen, hematoma on the right adrenal gland, and road rash on my right calf. ( Later we will find an abscess on my right gluteal flank which is probably the bulk of this healing process and several blog posts). 

I spent four days in the Burn/Trauma unit. Excellent nursing care. Most excellent. 

What we discovered later...I was in a silver lining. The gowns and sheets are lined with silver for the burn patients. Seems like they saved me too.

I had one treatment to my road rash, which was the size of my fist. Silver lining. I didn't need surgery for my spine or spleen. Silver lining. Terry healed quickly. Silver lining. We believe strongly in Harley gear. Our injuries and rash would have been a thousand times worse. Silver lining. Terry had placed the folded church bulletin in his back right pocket. He burned a hole in the back pocket and it started to burn the bulletin, but not his bum. Sliver lining (and lesson to keep your church bulletins with you). Friends helped prepare our living room to become the master bedroom for the summer. Silver lining. Friends came to sit with me so Terry could go to work. Silver lining. My children came to take care of me, made meals, let me read to grandbabies, and loved me beyond what I knew was possible. Silver lining. 

Right now Terry and I are looking for the next silver lining. We had grand plans this summer. Plans for the house. Plans for the yard. Adventurous plans for the bike. Travel to see friends and join in celebrations with them. The only answer we have been given is...Slow Down. 

Slow down and look for your silver lining. 

My Vote

See the lady with the lovely beehive...next to the adorable six year old. That is Ruby. She grew up in a small town in southern Virginia. She held a high school degree. She took her right to vote seriously. She educated herself about the people and ballot measures in her national, state and local elections. She would take that cute little six year old with her when she voted. 

She never told her or her husband who she voted for. She said it was the one thing in life she could keep to herself. 

The man on the right was a WWII veteran. Every night after work I saw him reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. No question. You educate yourself. You vote.

This helped to shape how I vote. I don't share that information. I will provide information on a platform that I feel strongly about. I  will encourage everyone to exercise their right to vote. I am proud to say all three of my children voted in the 2016 election. 

I have two thoughts on what we can and need to do. 

How we respond.

As these last few weeks have unfolded I have been, honestly, shocked at some of the responses via social media. Not the amount or way of informing us, but by what friends  have posted. The unfriending. The categorization of who someone is based on the vote they cast. 

My vote does not fully define me...nor do I believe it defines you. 

But I have seen too many people "delete" friendships based on one vote. 

In my mind, if that occurs then you don't know someone. It also closes your mind. Removes any possibility of empathy. 

Many people know that my love and I do not have the same view on all things political. We have had to explore uncomfortable conversations. We have had to decide on what to agree on and what to disagree on. We also know we respect each other. We don't belittle each other. 

What I see on social media is the knee jerk reaction of liking or sharing a post/meme that we find humorous or defending our opinion. In those situations we learn nothing, except they know how to tap the share and post button. 

I have a friend who during the political season and following has written out his thoughts and opinions. I value his posts. He asks for respectful written conversation. He accepts all views. It is a safe place to express ideas.

As you know, dear friends, I work with small children. We have an amazing tool we use with children from birth to six years of age. It's called the six steps of problem solving. Here is the trick...we teach them how to use this skill in all areas of their life. Our hope is that they can carry this into their teenage years and adulthood. 

I see this as the biggest skill missing in life right now. Too many people respond like the six year old who has been raised on flash cards and technology. They regurgitate information and can't look someone in the eye, but hide behind a keyboard. They lack social skills and self regulation. 

Yes, I am going to provide you with this tool. My desire is that you can, daily, practice using the six steps. I promise you will see emotions can be acknowledged and passion can be reigned in. You will discover there is more than one way to solve a problem. You will find more respectful conversations. 

Here it goes...

Six Steps in Resolving Conflicts - slightly adjusted for the needs of adults.
1. Approach calmly, stopping any hurtful actions
Use a calm voice and gentle touch
Remain neutral rather than take sides
Set limits if necessary

2. Acknowledge adult’s feelings
“You look really upset”
Let people know you need to hold any object in question
Describe their actions

3. Gather information
Ask for information from each person and listen carefully

4. Restate the problem
“So the problem is…”

5. Ask for ideas for solutions and choose one together
“What can we do to solve this problem?”
Encourage participants to think of a solution
Help clarify the details

6. Be prepared to give follow-up support
Describe how they solved the problem

HighScope-6 Steps In Resolving Conflicts

The second is also how we respond.
I believe change happens with us as individuals in the community we live in. 
Get out. Serve. Move your hands, legs, and heart to heal your community, city, state. 
"Be the change you wish to see in the world." -Gandhi 
“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”   - Mr. Rogers

My prayer, wish, dream, desire...
That we will create an environment for safe conversations.
That we will be helpers...for anyone. 
That we will create honest change.
Be kind. 
Look out for one another.  
Be a human safety pin, band aid, security blanket.