The worst of times, the best of times

(this post was started on April 2)

In four days, it will be the 6 month anniversary of this whole rollercoaster.  Thomas was sick-as-a-dog-barely-hanging-on-to-life on October 8, 2010.  Thats where this entry's title starts.

I have relived that day a million times.  Do you remember Polaroid cameras?  That's how I see it all in my mind.  And, I hear the sound affects, too... of the photos being taken and spit out of the camera.  I see mental photos of he and I arguing about going to the Dr.s office that third time, I see one of him anguishing from the pain to get in and out of the car, I remember being totally fed up with no improvment in his condition.  I was going to be heard this third time.  I see the nurses faces when they come in the room.  They started talking to us in what we call the "Prozac voice", talking to us like we are five year old kids. 

The speed picks up here, more like a digital on the sports setting.  We are at the hospital, the faces of the friends that (miraculously) arrived there to be with me, I see Thomas' face as he struggles to make sense of all that is happening to him.  It still breaks my heart.  He had that horrible look of bewilderment, confusion.  We had no idea what was being missed... what was coming.  Flash: arriving at the Med.  Flash: Hallways and closed doors, me on one side; Thomas on the other. 

Flash: my Mom arriving from Arkansas and walking down one of those awful hallways, miraculously, right to me.  (I get my sense of direction from her.... none.) :)

Flash: T rolling back into surgery.  I didn't think for a minute that I could have been talking to him for the last time.  Not a clue.  Flash. Flash. Flash.   Information, opinions, surgeries, expressionless faces. 

Those were the some of the worst of times.  There were more/others poked in here and there.  But' after about three weeks, we began to have scattered 'best of times' in there too.  Flash: The day the kids finally got to see him.  They were as wide eyed as I have ever seen them.  They were so very brave, too.  They were so mature and sensitive.  I still can't believe how well they both did through all of this.... the only way I can believe it is to know that while I waited for that first ambulance ride to start, I was already praying for their protection, and I didn't even know how much I would need it.  God was so very faithful with them.  I remember after Thomas was moved to step down ICU and I could stay with him, Reed asked me "Mom are you staying here (home) tonight or with Dad?"  I felt like he was subtley saying that he wanted me to stay home.  I asked him if that is what he wanted.  He thought for a minute before he answered (sooooooooo a trait of his Dad) and said, "I want you to be where ever you need to be, Mom."  He was nine years old.  God' grace was just oozing right out of him.  That was a 'best of time' and there were more...

People ask me if it feels like forever. People ask me if its flown.  Both and neither.  The best way I think I can describe the last 6 months is a smear.  And yet, there were indellible moments... moments that are permanent impressions on me/us like impressions in wet cement.  Some of those involve my kids, like the one above.  Some of them involve precious cards, notes, prayers, words from family and friends.  A lot involve the caregivers we had, like Dr. Croce, and our nurses. 

A lot of those moments involve his rehabilitation.  I would have to classify those as both best AND worst together.  If this seems like this is all about me, I don't mean that.  Two things, 1. I have always tried to give Thomas some level of privacy and 2. its easiest to do that if I just speak from my perspective. BUT....
Rehab.  Without question, one of the hardest to manage situaitions of my life/our lives.  When I say that, I am telling on myself.  I did not have the personal decorum, control, maturity to walk into that room at the rehabilitation clinic, filled ... overflowing even, with broken ..... severely broken people.  People whom wanted to be looked in the eye.  People who probably could see through my thin veil and know I was struggling.  It was all I could do TO look them in the eye.  I had no choice, I had to look beyond the exterior.  Is that a good thing?  Well, of course.  Is that an easy thing?  No ma'am.  Not if you are me.  They just wanted to be seen, to be heard, to be talked to, to be treated as 'normal' ... as if whatever horrible, ripping tragedy had NOT happened to them.  Thomas looked like the picture of health and normalcy compared to most of these precious saints.  Their stories would both break and bless your heart. 

The spirit of each person in that clinic was the complete opposite of their exterior... their spirits were NOT broken.   You would not believe what these people had risen above.  It was a repellant against self pity to be there.  There was NO WAY you/me/we could feel sorry for ourselves when we were there.  And that was the part that was the best.  I felt like a baby... a baby that was growing, absorbing, learning every time we were there.  I hated to go, but hated worse not to go.  I knew I needed that 'rehab' as much as Thomas' body did.   My rehab was of the heart.  Treating others as you would like to be treated is sometimes much harder than it sounds.   I've been in situations where I could tell I was 'insignificant', that no one really wanted my audience.  It doesn't feel good.  What if that was every day? What if people tried to avoid me, avoid eye contact wtih me everyday? 

Somewhere in January, Thomas started feeling better for longer periods in the day.  We had a while after his exercises, before he was too tired.  We could have lunch.  We could run an errand or two.  THIS... this was the BEST of times.  I had my best friend, 24-7.  Now, had you asked me if I would want that... oh say 7 months ago....  I mighta said, "Uhhh, sure.  For a WEEK."  But, after what had happened, after watching him fight through it all, work so, so hard to get better.  I realized, I liked having him around more than I could have ever imagined.  Now, don't get me wrong... we are waaaaay human and there were the occasional times where, just like always, we would get on each others LAST nerve, but ... big picture: It was the best of times, for sure. 

Past January, into Feburary and March he continued to work and continued to get stronger and have more stamina.  We even saw a few movies!  We found ourselves in yet another new community of people...the retired.  If you go to matinees during the week, you have to FIGHT for the handicap parking! :)  Didn't take us long to figure out we had better arrive early if we wanted that end spot, nearest the ticket counter.  We had more than a few laughs at ourselves realizing the game we made, and fully intended to win, out of this! :)

The best of times. 

The days leading up to Thomas' return to work were as emotional as the first days of his illness.  I cried and cried and cried.  My 'baby', my project, my around-the-clock partner was leaving me!  I knew it was a good thing, it was another answer to prayer.  But, I was going to MISS him!  I was going to miss him because out of all of the horribleness.... there really were the best of times. 

Today is Tuesday, April 12.  Thomas has been back at work, released from disability for one week and one day.  He is so tenacious.  He is working so hard.  He does great.  He manages the pain well, just through sheer determination... he takes nothing.  And, at the end of the day, he is totally spent.  He is exhausted but has the satisfaction of knowing he is overcoming, not impossible, but mighty big odds.  He knows from where his strength comes.  We give all the credit, all the glory to God...who loved us enough to send His only son to, not just die, but suffer and die for us.  After watching my loved one suffer, I have an even deeper appreciation for that utimate gift.  What a time to be celebrating Easter.  He is risen and ...

HIOTT. 

Thank you for caring for my family, for staying updated on our situation and for your prayers.

two FLU

He got it. 

But, he really did not feel very bad and didn't have near the case of it that Mary-Carter did.  We couldn't decide if we just caught it early OR if, relatively speaking this was NOTHING!  :)

Now, we are just trying to avoid Reed and I getting it.  I flat out refuse to get it!  We will see how that works out.  :)

Croce.

Four months ago, my Memphis expanded greatly.  Suddenly, The Memphis Regional Medical Center and many staff persons there became the center of everything for us ...they were my life lines and they were holding the life of my husband in their hands. 

Sometime in the late evening of Friday, October 8, my world collided with that of Doctor Martin Croce.   In hindsight, I can identify this as one of the first of many miracles in our ordeal.  Dr. Croce is the Medical Director of the Elvis Presley Memorial Trauma Center at The Med.  This will mean more to my story later...

I was in a haze of shock and exhaustion when I first was introduced to him late that evening,  Some of the details are fuzzy but ... what I do remember is that I was interested in how he spelled his name... Huh?!  Why did I need to know that?   I have no idea, but I liked him pretty much instantly.  I think primarily because he did not make me feel stupid for asking about the spelling of "Croce" when my husband was in a serious medical crisis.   He knew I didn't really understand what was happening... they really didn't know it all yet, either.  Something else I didn't know was "who" he was and ... I had no idea yet how much we would grow to love him.  All of that began the next morning. 

Saturday, October 9, Dr. Croce had to deliver the news to me that Thomas was, as he put it, "devastatingly ill".  I think I was like a rubber statue and the words were just bouncing off me.  Dr. Croce was so patient, so deliberate and as calm as he could be in the situation.  He didn't give false hope but he is just one of the ones with that amazing gift of encouragement.  Somehow, even hearing what I was hearing, I felt a peace.  Now, I truly attribute that peace to The Great Physician, but I know... beyond a SHADOW of a doubt that The Great Physician had put this great physician right there for this time for US.  I know it as sure as I now know how to spell his name.  :)

I've read that "you don't choose The Med, you wake up in The Med"... that's mostly true although we were sort of offered a choice, one I am so very grateful we took.  However, if you do end up, wake up, or even choose The Med in a trauma situation... you hope Dr. Croce is on call.  They are all good there, we had many, many of the staff doctors and nurses guarding and watching over Thomas.  Its just that, basically, Dr Croce is the B.M.I.C in Trauma.  (Big Man In Charge)  The residents, who do a LOT of the work, snap to attention when he is around and even more so if he is the attending on a patient.  Dr Croce, or just "Croce" as I somewhere along the line began to call him (?!?), being the Medical Director of one of the busiest trauma centers in the country is in pretty high demand as a consultant and speaker.  After October 8, I think he was out of town every weekend during our 6 week stay.  There you go... one of our first miracles. 

Croce has the ability to lift a little of the weight off your shoulders.  He has got to be one of the busiest people in that whole hospital, yet... you will get his UNdivided attention if you need to speak to him.  You can ask him the same thing 10 times and he's not going to get irritated with you.  He cares.  Simple as that.  He absolutely cares and it just radiates from him.  His life has not been untouched by heartbreak and I sometimes wondered how he does what he does every day.  But, I know too, that he has used his personal experiences to make himself a deeper, richer, even more empathetic and caring doctor.  However, even though I didn't know him then, I have a feeling he was always this way.  Every resident respects (and probably fears) him, every patient family adores him.  And my family and I... we are at the front of that line.  He may or may not know it but I think he is one of those angels I talked about a few months ago.  Dr. Martin Croce is so smack in the middle of God's will for his life that he can't help but but be the extension of the HIS hand.... Croce makes it possible for God to physically reach out and touch you.

We love him.  We thank God for him,we ask His blessings on  him, to guide and protect him every day so that he can mean to so many others what he did to us.  God bless his own family, too.

Croce.  The first of many miracles in our ordeal... the first of my tributes.  Thank you.  HIOTT



Croce and Thomas. Christmas Eve 2010.





One FLU over the cukoo's nest...

Yep, our "hospital" just got a new patient.  Mary-Carter has the flu.  (Seems like last fall I was supposed to have taken them to get shots...hmmmm, think I missed that.)

Anway, she is on the mend but we are sure praying that is stops with her and most certainly that Thomas doesn't get it.  If so... now THAT would be what put me in that nest! 

He had a great report from The Med last week and has now been instructed to focus the majority of his time on physical therapy.  He is still doing really well... it just takes time, time, and more time.  Praise the Lord that we have it!

He is having a lot of trouble with allergies.  We wonder how much of it has to do with the total blood transfusion that he had.  Its all new to him, the reactions, the blood... all new.  Weird. 


Ok... thats about it.  Thanks for caring about Thomas and our family.  We appreciate you more than you know. 

HIOTT.... I think with Easter approaching, HIOTT is more appropriate than ever.

Happy Valentine's Day...
Julie and Thomas

And the winner is....

M. Brad Mayfield M.D

This is him now, with his beautiful wife Kellee, his parents Wanda and Pat Mayfield and his precious daughter, Mary-Margaret.

This was him then.... with a girl who had a very misguided idea about a cute hairdo and a great buddy to both, Jeff Vickers. 

Brad and I have been friends forever, as evidenced by the above photo! He is an awesome guy who found the perfect match in his wife Kellee.  Theirs was one of my all time favorite weddings!  I am so proud for him, what he has accomplished in his life and the fact that he gets to raise a daughter! :)  Brad, will you let her ride four (not three, like us) wheelers?  I sure hope so!  Some of the best times I had growing up. 

Anyway, besides being a great guy, Brad has always been brilliant.  I have to rat him out a little and tell you that once in Junior High, I sent him a note during school...you know, like passed it back from one row to the next.   He sent it back to me, with CORRECTIONS!  :)  I think it was just more than he could take.  No telling what he'd like to do with portions of this blog!  I am blessed to know him and was so happy when he texted me the PERFECT suggestion for the blog's new name.  "Still Standin"!    

He is "Still Brilliant!" :)  

Thank you EVERYBODY who sent me a suggestion. I got some awesome ones and T and I had a hard time choosing.  Some others we had:  Through it All; HIOTT, Walking in Memphis, T the Man, Lucky to have Thomas (that had a funny double meaning), Thomas Had a Great Fall but his legions of prayer warriors put him back on that Wall, and more!  Thanks yall for caring enough to contribute!

M. Brad, thank you for being a part of ALL of this with me, even from a distance.  It means the world to me and I have to stop typing now, my eyes are blurred with tears.   Love you and your sweet family, too. 

My favorite line... "looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid..."

hey, hey, hey...

GOODBYE! 

Whats in a name....

I have been thinking about changing the name of the blog.  "Praying for Thomas" has been a perfect name, and we still covet and appreciate your prayers.  The biggest challenges now are still just rehabilitation.  Thomas works really hard but it just takes time.  His personal, short term goal is to return to work by March 1.   


Now, onto other business....


I am curious.  My friends and family are some of the most talented folks I know and certainly smarter than me, so... let me pick your brains.  If you could rename this blog, what would you name it? 


I had struggled with the need to keep the blog at all, but I have heard from several, especially ones who live away who still use it to follow his progress, so I will.  Its no trouble, I just didnt' know when I was 'supposed' to stop.  Blog protocol... not up on it. 


So, if I am going to continue, I thought a new name might be an idea... something that is clever, that describes the whole ordeal somehow....I've toyed with "To the Med and Back", "TMI", and also had the suggestion of "Shake a Leg"  haha.  We aren't offended so... bring it on!  Any and all suggestions are welcome!  You can reply to this post, however I have heard from a lot who suddenly began having trouble posting.  If Facebook is easier for you, that's fine too or email. 


We will pick a winner and make some kind of hoopla about it!  So, put on your thinkin' caps and send me your ideas!  Can't wait! 

Thanks for caring for our family, for reading this blog and for your prayers...
HIOTT...

Big cheesy grin from T's "mini-me"