News from the Denver Outpost September 4, 2007

Hi Friends,

The long weekend is finally over. We thought we would get a long restful weekend with only one hour of therapy each day Saturday through Monday. Most of that supposition was true, but we were kept busy with all the other everyday conundrums of living in a hospital. Firstly, nothing, and I mean nothing, ever gets done on schedule. Saturday, we ran so hard Rachel never even got in time for an afternoon nap. By 8:30 pm, she was completely exhausted. By 9:00 with the first set of meds in place, she was sound asleep, with me about 15 minutes behind. Sunday was the same kind of day. The Occupational Therapist assigned to Rachel ended up in an emergency room at some hospital with a bad case of vomiting. She is about 4.5 months pregnant and the docs were concerned for the baby. Our schedule thus was turned upside down and we never recovered again, despite the fact that lots of the time was spent waiting between therapies. Once again, we missed the nap, ended up absolutely beat and in bed early.

Monday, we vowed, would be different. Lots of laughs! We got off to a great start with an early bout of OT which worked on some of Rachel’s right arm problems. Then we got moved into an opening in PT and ended up working for about 45 minutes with Rachel walking with the aid of a cane. (Great ! Great ! Great!) We set off to Safeway shortly thereafter to buy Sunscreen, because one of the salves she puts on her skin graft arm and leg is very sensitive to the sun. One hour later, we were back on the floor and Rachel was looking forward to her every-other day shower. But, the folks from Ultra-sound decided that was a good time to come get her and take her down to testing. An hour and a half later a very exhausted and cold Rachel appeared back on the floor, tested, but having had to wait in a long line downstairs had frustrated her again to tears. The nurses rallied, moved her directly from the gurney to the shower and let her stay in there for about twice the normal time. Rejuvenated, she ate a good dinner, talked on the phone with her mother and sister-in-law and at 9 again hit the sack for a nights sleep.

Today, we started with our normal respiratory therapy at 6:40 and moved on to 3.5 hours of physical and occupational therapy over the extent of the day. Rachel tripled her walking distance, almost all done only with the assist of a cane. She also declared her independence from nursing assisted commode trips and now utilizes her local coach to take her to the “big girl’s” toilet. Another emancipation! Privacy, and a real Thomas Crapper waterworks commode.

We also discussed our pending release with the trauma team doctors and therapists. We are free to make our reservations, and have, as of this evening, scheduled a flight home for September 11, 2007 to arrive at 1:05 CDT Tuesday afternoon. All of these plans still depend on no unforeseen infections or clots or other ailments suddenly setting us back. For now, that is the plan.

On Saturday, one of our favorite nurses brought us a poem that a special friend had given her 19 years ago when her son was having a series of medical problems and was not given much chance of surviving. He has since grown and gone off to college. I thought I would share it here tonight in memory.

Take Care of Her for Me!

I’ll lend you for a little while

A child of Mine… He said,

For you to love the while she lives

And mourn for when she’s dead.

It may be five or ten years,

Or twenty-two or three,

But will you, till I call her back

Take care of her for Me?

She’ll bring her charms to gladden you

And should her stay be brief

You’ll have her lovely memories

As solace for your grief.

I can not promise she will stay

Since all from earth return

But there are lessons taught down there,

I want this child to learn.

I’ve searched the world over

In my look for teachers true,

And from the throngs that crowd life’s lanes

I have selected you.

Now give her all your love

Nor think your labor vain

Nor hate me when I come to call

To take her back again

I fancied that I heard them say

“Dear Lord, Thy will be done.”

For all the joys this one shall bring

The risk of grief we’ll run.

We’ll shelter her with tenderness

And love her while we may

And for all the happiness she brings

Grateful forever stay.

And should the angel come to call

Much sooner then we’ve planned,

We’ll brave the bitter grief that comes

And try to understand.

-Edgar Guest

Jay, Renee, Britanie, Zach and Leah’s Dad