Eye surgery week... whew!

Well the big surgery started Tuesday a little after 5pm, and it was I guess a quick surgery. Although any time when you’re on the “table” for repairs it is quite an ordeal. Dad, he was a trooper. Dad’s care team and eye specialist guy used words to describe Dad’s newly repaired eye like “extraordinary” and “quite remarkable”. He even went so far as to complement Dad’s entire care team for their hard work and dedication at keeping Dad in the best position for his eyes healing. Keep in mind, Dad’s right leg is broken and must be kept straight. His left shoulder cannot be brought up into a “sleeping” position because of his titanium shoulder replacement from a couple of years ago. Dad’s healing position is on his left side, or his stomach, and just released to be on his right side sometimes too. Have you ever tried to lie on your tummy and not arch your back, bend your legs, or stress because the pillows are in your face? Yikes. Mix in some jumbled memories due to a massive impact to the head, and the medications that follow

suit, and you get an interesting journey. The mind is a dangerous place to get lost and if you’re a bit fuzzy... Well you get the point. It’s been a constant campaign to keep Dad physically, mentally, and emotionally comfortable.

After well over a full month of not seeing correctly, now his eyes are playing tricks with his brain... or vice versa. I have been a tad concerned about his emotions drifting downward during these next few days, but as I watch him I wonder about getting lost in my own mind as I burn awake hours driving back and forth from home to the hospital to help with Dad.

I have been pulling the night shift with dad for the last couple of nights. Being by dad's side for 14 or so hours is taking its toll. The last few nights Dad has been quite... how do I say it... uncooperative with the nursing staff. As polite as he can Dad has said many times that he just wants to go home. My job has been to keep him calm and remind him that he's here so the nurses can help him and that he needs to relax.

I'm exhausted. I go from taking care of Dad all night to spending a little time with my family and grabbing whatever sleep I can, then it’s back to the hospital to do it again. Mom is exhausted. She is doing the same thing, just during the day. The wonderful Mr. Bill is joining in the fun as well.

Please keep us in your prayers. This ordeal is be

ginning to take its toll and cracks in our stoic veneer are starting to show.

On a more positive note, Dad spent a little time with his youngest grandchild tonight! While he was sitting in a wheelchair, I put Haven in his arms for a little snuggle. They both loved it! Haven babbled away and tried to eat Dad’s hospital bracelet and Dad stroked her soft skin and smiled some very big smiles.

Just a quick post to let you all know that Dad’s surgery went well. The surgeon used words like “remarkable!”

Dad is spending the majority of time on his tummy, not a comfortable position for a man with a broken leg.

More soon, right now I need to go and try help Dad get comfy!

Game Plan B?

This weeks game plan. Vision. Sound familiar? Well the big surgery for today was put on hold for tomorrow. How much in the recovery road do we hurry up and wait?

So I guess we will have Monday’s plan on Tuesday.

Please Pray for Dad’s vision. The doctors, care team staff, and everyone trying to make the best decisions possible for Dad’s speedy recovery.

Lots of post eye surgery info to come... eventually :-)

~With Integrity

Monday July 26

This weeks game plan. Vision. Arguably one of the most important functions of the body. I mean sure one can function without sight, but thats not the way we were designed by God. Just look at God’s handiwork. Sunrises, Painted Hills, Night skies... of course Dad would say Balloons in the Sunrises, Painted Hills, and night skies but you get the point.

Vision: Dad has a group of eye guys working on a plan to help him see. Just so we are all on the same page, Dad has partial peripheral vision in his left eye, and the idea is that with the repairing of the lens and other bits he will get “more vision”. Still no vision from his right eye. Essentially his right eye is just not seeing. It is fully intact, it tracks with his other eye and, for the most part, dilates with light. More details will be available as we learn them. Pray for this. Miracles do happen. We have watched countless of miracles so far through this adventure. Perhaps his sudden vision will be added to that list. Perhaps Dad’s positive attitude will impact one of his care team members. We are only tools in the Master’s hands, it is God’s vision that we have yet to see.

At this point it looks like the plan is for Dad to have a surgery tomorrow on his left eye. The eye specialist care team says this surgery has a limited time window, and time is not on our side. Good news? Now is the perfect time in his healing and recovery process for the surgery. This is where it gets interesting. We wont know what the results of the surgery for a few weeks. During this recovery time, Dad has to be either on his stomach or on his side. Did we forget to mention he has a massively broken leg? This is going to be an intriguing few weeks of recovery.

Please Pray for Dad’s vision. The doctors, care team staff, and everyone trying to make the best decisions possible for Dad’s speedy recovery.

Pray for this adventure. Dancing 3 steps forward, we don't know which direction this eye surgery will be. Back, sideways, or...?

~With Integrity

Today is day 36...

It has been a crazy week. Milestones blurring by almost as rapidly as hours in the day. I wonder what to write. Mostly I wonder where to start. How to share all the exciting miracles, encouraging triumphs and hurdles we have faced in the last few days. Bottom line? Dad is doing amazing. Goals have been smashed. We have a long way to go, yet with the seemingly constant barrage from his “family of care” team, Dad has been keeping his spirits up and motivating along. Sure we have been dancing the recovery dance. 3 steps forward, 1 back, 2 to the side and back again. Dad has some days where the medications seem to be working on overdrive confusing and muddling his thoughts, while other days are much better. He is still in a fair amount of pain and trying to think through the narcotics is tough enough, much less focusing through a good rattle to the brain.

We had another eye specialist come in and look at Dad’s eyes. Right now he can only see very limitedly from his left eye. Is this an injury thing that will self correct? Is it some trauma that can be healed? Only time will tell, and Dad’s eye guys are putting a game plan together designed to restore as much sight in Dad’s eyes as possible.

Dad’s fine motor skills are clicking along. Buttoning a shirt is a snap, almost. While working on bringing a spoon to his mouth to eat soup, Dad stopped and thought for a few moments. Then smiled and picked up the bowl with both hands and slurped away. My kids would have been proud.

Dad had a therapy dog come and visit him as well. An unexpected and awesome treat for Dad. Nothing brings a smile to a face better than shakes and snuggles from our hairy 4 legged friends. Maybe one day Dad will have a therapy dog of his own.

Dad is increasing his standing time during his physical therapy. As well as his coordination and upper body strength by wheeling himself around the hospital wing. Imagine the concentrating grin on his face as he, very nearly blindly, follows the voice ahead of him down the path. Steer to your left, now straight, slow down a little you have a wall coming up. Dad asked if he had a special racing wheel chair, because he noticed the wheels had a slight camber to them. He seemed a little bummed to learn his chair was just a “normal” chair. It matters little though because soon Dad will be racing along.

Please continue to pray for Dad’s healing, especially for his sight. Also, please pray for us, his family, as we attempt to maintain some sense of normalcy for ourselves and the kids while trying to make the hour long trip over to see Dad everyday.

Thank you all so much for your constant prayers, please don’t forget to leave a comment so we know you’re there, sometimes I feel like I’m writing to update myself... emails and phone calls work too.

~With Integrity

Milestones

When asked about Dads progress, “big picture style,” I have to stop and look at the gigantic hurdles he has leapt past every day. Thirty-two days of recovery since his mishap. Dad is out of ICU, and into the rehabilitation phase at RVMC.

He is able to talk to us. Dad has been able to drink and swallow blended food. Dad is able to almost hold his own cup with a straw and help his spoon find his mouth. These simple tasks mean he is on the path to rehabilitation. His brain is working at telling his muscles what to do and they are listening. Dad is starting to process tasks like, move your arms this way, move your legs that way. You can hand Dad a small piece of rope with a knot in it, and he can untie it and tie a better one for you. Dad is flying by these milestones. Some of them so fast that we don’t really have a chance to dwell on how awesome they are. Dad is able to think about something he needs or wants, and about 97% of the time is able to express his thoughts clearly to us.

Yesterday the bright sunshine was streaming in through the window. It was causing dad’s eyes to hurt. His face starting squinting. He moved his head from one side to the other. Then he shielded his eyes with his hands. Still this didn't help, finally he asked for sunglasses. These are significant markers along this route. After any brain trauma, the body takes time to rebuild pathways, reboot, and restart all the operating systems. The doctors have said it could take him several years to fully “reboot” his brain. The brain is far more complex than a broken leg and knee. These also take time to heal, but we are able to “watch” the improvement.

In a few more weeks we will know more about the game plan of Dad’s knee. Right now the main goal is to get it healed enough that he can start to put some weight on it. Speaking of weight, today during therapy, Dad stood up. We helped him pull himself forward, and balance on his “good” leg. Three times Dad was able to do this. Each time becoming more steady. Woo hoo! Another milestone surpassed. 32 days in and our first stand up. Soon he will be trotting around the hallways.

Seeing for Dad is a major prayer request. His vision is limited at best. We have a special eye guy putting a game plan together for us to best help Dad. We knew his vision was going to be affected. You smack your face, you see stars at the very least. Dad has one eye that looks like it should be able to have some vision restored. The other eye we might not be so lucky. God knows the ultimate plan while we only can see glimpses. Please pray that the specialists, Dad and us are wise in our decisions during this part of the recovery phase.

So many miracles, so many miles to go.... Give us strength, and peace.

~With Integrity

Today I wanted to make a special note to say SUPER-DUPER THANK-YOU for everyone who has stopped to take a moment and pray for the process of Dad’s speedy recovery. Thanks for the hugs, meals, random distractions, calls, e-mails, text messages, letters, and postcards. These acts and words have helped bolster ours and Dad’s spirits through this journey. Thank you!

Dad had some very special little visitors yesterday. Riley (5) and Corban (3), finally were able to come and hold dad’s hand. Corban, a little bothered with how Grampa looked in his fashionable hospital gown, was cautious to approach the bed where Grampa was resting. Corban clung on to me, yet wanted to see Grampa up close. While I was answering Corban’s questions about Grampa’s owies, he broke into a little song of “I Love You Grampa.” You could see the smile slowly spread across and take over Dad’s face. As we left Grampa’s room, Corban also insisted on saying “amens” for Grampa. “And God, I just bless you to help Grampa feel better,” he said before he skipped away to draw a picture for Grampa of a rocket ship. A little while later Riley was taken aback as she first saw Grampa. Just at the moment, Grampa is not the infallible pusher of swings and mender of broken things. “He is tired and working on feeling better,” I told Riley. Not wanting to be too close to this overwhelming change, she was happy to draw some pictures of Grampa flying in the sky with an airplane and clouds in the background as I visited with Dad. Riley slowly crept closer until she was in my lap. You could see the joy on Dad’s face as Riley’s fingers wiggled in her Grampa’s hand. I overheard one of Dad’s care team saying, “now that’s the best medicine we can get.”

This morning Dad kept asking me where Riley and that nice little boy were. His brain gets things a bit muddled these days. His care team says it will take a while for that to fully resolve. In the meantime, we will continue to reintroduce Dad to his grandkids and watch his face light up at their songs and snuggles.

Out of ICU, and Into Rehabilitation

At this time, attempting to update you all, I find myself struggling to find the words. I feel dazed and confused. Yes, Dad is out of ICU. Yes, thats a miracle. I keep being reminded of the countless miracles we have seen just to get where we are. Simple things we take for granted. Breathing on our own. Swallowing. Talking. Sitting. Dad is doing all these things and more. I should be elated that Dad is where he is, but for some reason I am sitting here staring at the blank page. This recovery time is a process for us all. This dance is still 2 steps forward, 1 step back. There will be good days hurdling past milestones, and days struggling to reach one. Although yesterday was another amazing leap forward, Dad did have a bit of a setback. Somehow, in the rehabilitation wing, Dad fell out of his bed and hit his head...again. The good news? No injuries. CT was clear. Just a little bump and cut. AAARRRGGGHHH! Really?

Today Dad sat up in a chair for about 4 hours. In this new recovery phase he is being “encouraged” to move his arms, wiggle his toes, remember and say multiple sets of words, to cope with a barrage of multiple sounds and stimuli, all while “resting” and recuperating. He started to get a bit agitated earlier and we quickly realized by closing the door in his room he relaxed and calmed. Now keep in mind he has been “sleeping” for over 3 weeks, so multiple voices all talking at once can be confusing.

This is going to be an adventure balancing the line between pushing Dad towards recovery, and pushing Dad backwards.

I will lie down and sleep in peace,
For you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 4:8

~With Integrity

Wed July 14th

Just as I was getting to the point where I feel like the end of the rope is near, an extra boost comes along. 27 days and nights spent in ICU, 27 trips to visit Dad, 27 blurry trips home. 27 emotionally fraying at the edges days of overwhelmingness... 27 days of “yes dad is still in ICU, but he’s getting better.”

Day TWENTY-SEVEN... How many Miracles can you Count?

Today Dad moved to his new room. A room with a view of recovery. Yesterday was such a good day of adventures and progress in dad’s recovery journey. He not only went from a trach to eating, but he also went on his first outside stroll (in a wheelchair).

Monday’s plan following the 3 hour MRI was to let Dad rest and slowly downsize his trach to the point where it could be capped so he could start to talk. Change of plans team. Tuesday morning when the downsizing Trach’s process started, the decision was made to remove it entirely and give Dad a go at talking. This went so smoothly that some food and drink was offered to Dad. He requested some applesauce and a small drink. I think he’s been spending a lot of time with my kids. They think that’s the perfect snack after a good nap. OK, so over 3 weeks in ICU isn’t really a nap, but its a good snack either way. After Dad’s snack, he was feeling so good they helped him into a wheel chair and went outside for some fresh air. Should I say that again? 4 days ago, dad was still on a vent. He was being tube fed, and just had his jaw wires removed. Yesterday Dad went outside for fresh air. Dad went into the ICU on the 18th of June. 27 days later Dad had breakfast, and is going to get some more fresh air after his exercises. 27 days of talking to dad and his responses varying from nothing to a hand squeeze or slight nod, and today he requested to call home. Dad called Mom! What an awesome gift this morning. I just happened to be at Mom’s house with my son Corban and we all got to hear and talk to Dad/Grandpa for a brief moment. Spirits are all soaring. Dad’s got a lot of work to do before can jump up and push the kids on swings, or chase them in the backyard, but these last couple of days make me feel like we just might be able to survive the journey.

~With Integrity

Applesauce and a small drink please?

Yesterday was a long MRI day....

But, Good news.

Dad’s neck is cleared.

Better news?

The trach is out.

Amazing news!

Dad is able to talk with us!!!

He wanted applesauce and a small drink. Wow!

26 days without Ballooning stories from Dad. He has a lot to catch up on.Many more details to come, but first I’m gonna hang with my Dad for a bit.

Miracles, Praises and Requests. An interesting journey so far don’t you think? I wonder where God is taking us.

~With Integrity

MacGyver...

I am constantly amazed, and maybe I shouldn’t be. Dad is an icon in this community. He grew up here. He has played, worked, MacGyvered, rescued, ballooned, and helped with people in every nook and cranny, intersection, back alley, parking lot, highway, boat landing, dirt road, subdivision and all the places in between for 70 years now. Of course Dad has affected peoples lives. Time and again I hear the “I remember when” stories and they are all the same. Sure, each has a slight variation, but the theme remains. Dad, without any prejudice, unassumingly stepped in, knew the right things to do and before you know it, he was done and heading on to the next adventure of his day. Almost like Spider Man without the web. Just last night I was talking with someone who was MacGyvered by Dad nearly 20 years ago. He has only run into him a couple of times since but Dad’s impact on him has left a life long impression. What if we all lived our lives the same way?

I would love to hear more “I remember when” stories. We would love to hear about the impact, however big or small, Dad has had on your life. Did he unlock your car for you? Did he put out your house when it was burning? Please let us know, we would love to read these stories to Dad and remind him where he came from and where he is headed back to.

~With Integrity

Friday night and Saturday,

Dad had what his care team call, “Good” sleep and rest. As if one can actually sleep or really rest though anything in ICU. The plan was almost successful. Dad had his spa Day. He also got a new trach, he did not however make it to the MRI for the scan. Something about, well to be honest, I have no idea, but I certainly can come up with a very convincing reason why Dad has to wait. Give me a second. OK, the reason will start out with this group of Bikers who... maybe we will wait for that story for later time....

What I do know is Dad’s MRI is on the books for Monday. Then we can get back on this train of recovery. Of course we are assuming that the scan comes back telling us his neck is clear. Keep praying about this. We are all still wondering just what pain in his neck he is indicating. Yeah I know, you were thinking that pain in his neck is me, but we still don’t know. Good news though. With this new trach thats in Dad is now able to “talk” to us a bit. Still several days out, but his talking will become a more regular happening as both Dad heals and the trach is reduced in size. In the official notes Dad’s care team mentioned that he first asked if he could “go outside and go for a walk”. I just have to stop, allow that tear to splash down my cheeks, and smile. Not only does that tell us that Dad is ready to get on with this process of recovery, it tells us that he’s looking to the future. The ICU can be a place where the mind checks out, but such praise and what a miracle. Dads is going to be OK. Yes it’s down a really really long road, but he is going to recover. The care team says full recovery should be in about 3 years. Yikes, it already feels that long. How long has it been? 3 weeks? I still cant sleep right. When I do, its a weird half sleep, and I don’t have all the alarm bells and beeps going on around me. Its in the quiet where my mind gets lost. I can only imagine how mom is coping with this current saga. She is a rock. Going on strong. Keeping her wits about.

I am constantly asked how mom is doing? She has her days. Just like me, just like everyone. There are those good days and the days where, as my daughter says, “Daddy, you just have to pretend that your going to have fun.” For better or worse. Mom is the wife of a retired yet adventurous fire man. Every day of Dad working to put out fires, rescue kittens stuck in trees and save lives could have been the day Dad didn’t come home. Each morning mom had to mentally process through. Today could be that day. Not to be morbid, but reality says that we should all recognize that today could be that day. Its the end of life that keeps the circle going. The Bible tells us to never let the sun go down on anger and to cherish, each and every moment with our loved ones because only God knows the plans set for us. After 30 years processing this daily, Mom has some mental safeguards already in place. She knew the process and steps she would take and simply started down that journey, a few steps ahead of everyone else. I compare it to cooking with a seasoned chief. They know 17 steps ahead of in the recipe exactly when the salt is sprinkled in when I am at step 3, still waiting for the water to boil. Mom is going on, because there is no pause button for life. Mom is doing good. Mom is recovering on schedule. Mom has her good days and the rest. She, just like me, just like countless of other folks who know and love Dad, needs prayer and encouragement. We all have many recovery miles to cover.

~With Integrity

The saga continues...

Friday was a “spa” day in the ICU for Dad. First the soothing and quiet rhythm of the chirping alarm beeps and bells gently awoke Dad. First thing on the agenda for the day after some delightful suctioning of his lungs, a leisure breakfast. A unique and nourishing blend of antioxidants, calcium, protein, and carbs. Then an exhilarating bath time scrub, scented with antiseptic and cleansers. Dad also received a shave and small trim of his handlebar mustache. The stylist is famous for the “neat yet sophisticated” look of a handlebar. After Dad’s cleansing scrub he was given time to meditate in a near sitting position. Its all part of the total body renewing process this ICU is so well known for. Several long hours of flew by in what felt like moments. Dad was then reclined and he dozed in his newly cleansed and healing body. Gently Dad was rocked awake as he was wheeled expertly long the path to another ICU room. This one offers a “different healing perspective”.

In Dad’s new ICU room he was visited by the Facial Reconstruction guy. He really likes how dad’s recovery is going. He even removed the wires holding Dad’s jaw together. This was for 2 reasons. Dad can now start to open and close his mouth, and go get an MRI of his head and neck. After a short wait, and quick trip to the MRI, they determined that oops, dad still has some metal in him. Evidentially the trach has enough metal in it to cause discomfort to dad during the scan. Whoops?!? Thank goodness for checks and double checks. Wow, that could have been the beginning of a bad day. So now the plan is to get another trach installed in dad that is more MRI friendly. Then back to get a scan which will hopefully clear his neck. Then with a cleared neck we are back on track, according to his care team, to remove the collar. Wow, what a saga.

I tell you its much like holding water in your hand this trying to keep up with all of Dad’s craziness much less attempting to keep a handle on my own chaos. As many of you know during this time my sister-in-law Hayley has come to help Sarah with the kids and free me up to be with Mom and Dad. She has been helping make meals, wrangle the kids, and be an extra helping grownup in our crazy household. Well, Hayley was playing on the playground with the boys, and somehow ended up hurting her knee. Another perfectly orchestrated accident. Every day at our house someone trips, scrapes, bumps or bruises something somehow. Tears, pic’s for the owie book, snuggles and a band aid or ice, and we continue with our adventures, but within a few short hours Hayley’s leg was very swollen and looking red and infected. Before you could say oozing scab, she ended up in the ER trying to get a hold on the out of control infection in her knee. What?... Another hospital trip? Corban who is almost 4 said, “AWW not again...can I have some ice cream?” So there you have it. Just a glimpse of how the saga continues, life is crazy, Keep Dad in your prayers as he is still in ICU, and recovering right on schedule, but i am beginning to feel like the end of my rope is near. I would ask when does it stop, but I am afraid of the answer. I can rest in the knowledge that God is in control and will not give me more than I can handle.

~With Integrity

Friday’s Game Plan

Today Dad already seems a bit restless. Maybe it’s because i kept him awake too late last night. Maybe it’s in anticipation of the next few hours of activities planned. There is a different energy (vibe) in the ICU today. They have a routine and scheduled move of the patients for normal upkeep and maintenance of the ward. Some of Dad’s care team thinks that the hospital plans these maintenance days to keep everyone off balance, but it has to happen sometime. Dad has some adventures planned for today too. The idea is to pull the wire out of his jaw. This means he will be able to open and close his mouth. This also means he should be cleared to get the MRI scan to look closer at his neck. Hopefully, it will clear and we will be able to remove the collar and let him stretch his neck and bend around to see more. This also is the next step in recovery. Pray that this goes well and he’s cleared. To us it seems lime simple little steps, but for Dad these tiny improvements help boost morale, encourage him, and give him that extra push towards getting better.

~With Integrity

Friday 2AM...

I can’t sleep, so what do I do? Drive over and visit with Dad, and by the looks of it, Dad cant sleep either. In ICU they have a medical condition called ICU syndrome. It’s when your mind and body get thrown out of whack. Every few moments someone is checking on you, poking, prodding, changing an IV, moving you, asking if you’re in pain, and can you wiggle your fingers. After a while you have no clue what day it is, or even what time of day it is. I am not laying in ICU, but I wonder if the medical field has a diagnosis for the families of ICU patients?

Thursday was an amazing day. Dad sat in the cadillac chair for almost 6 full hours. His breathing is only slightly labored and completely on his own. Occasionally he has to cough, which is agonizing to watch, cause there is nothing we can do to help, but it is part of the healing process. I think that dad is starting to work out of the fuzziness of the pain medication and sedatives he was on, because he keeps trying to scratch his nose, and fix his mustache. Mental note, should probably have someone, (mom) trim it a bit. I spent a good long time with him this evening. Wanted to stay longer, but, I also need sleep. Dad’s care team keep reminding me that he needs lots of extra rest to heal. Just opening his eyes is a full workout on his system. Please keep his eyes in prayer. The doc passed them both with flying colors, but cautioned us, as to what he can see, and how his brain is processing images, until we can get some more straight answers out of him. The plan for Friday, which by the way marks 3 full weeks of Dad in ICU, is to remove some of the wires holding his jaw shut and get an MRI to answer any remaining questions about the stability of his neck. Assuming it clears, Dad gets to take the C collar off and then the trach will start to be lessened and soon he will be able to plug it and re learn how to talk and converse with us. Pilot Bill will be flying early this morning for the local area Balloon Festival. I hope no one has mentioned it to dad yet. I know he will be straining to get back out and do his Crew Chief job. Well Dad, get some rest and sleep cause we have a long road ahead of us and lots of projects to keep busy with.

~With Integrity

So I’ve missed some time updating the status of Dad. To be quite honest, Dad has been making some remarkable improvements, but I have been going though a bit of denial of the current foster family saga. Just between you and me I kinda thought if i didn’t update anything about Dad, than maybe I would wake up from this nightmarish reality. Now I know what your thinking, I must have finally cracked and traveled to the loony bin, but I think everyone tries to escape from overwhelming things in life. Look at it from my point of view. Once you add up the craziness of life with 4 active kids, throw in a sprinkle of daily hospital trips and a dash of stress waiting through Dad’s recovery, well it’s time for a little denial, I think I am allowed that. Alas, ignoring reality does not make it change.
Today is Wednesday, July 7th. For the last few days Dad has been a trouper. Monday, Dad spent a couple hours in a “cadillac” chair, sitting up. Tuesday he spent a few more hours doing the same workout. Today he spent a little over 3 hours sitting. This helps his lungs work more. He also spent about 8 hours breathing on his own. This is great! Today, Dad was able to nod or shake his head in response to questions as well as squeezing my hand. His care team is now focused on balancing him with enough pain management to keep his heart rate down, but not too much to make him loopy and sleepy. Dad is doing good. He is still in ICU and will be there for a while, but he's is doing great.
Continue to keep him in your prayers, and I will keep you up to speed with his recovery.

~With Integrity

Independence Day

July 4th. Independence day. Fireworks. Happy celebrations of our independence, freedoms, rights liberties. For most folks a normal 4th is spent with family and friends, relaxing, and having fun. Watching sports, having BBQ’s, and enjoying fireworks. For Dad, it was a little different. His favorite grilled dinner was replaced by a light tan liquid (it almost looks like a watered down poor excuse for a chai) being pumped directly into his stomach. Not really the meal any of us want. Dad missed hearing the sounds of the bombs bursting in air. Instead he got to listen to the random bells and beeps of ICU gadgets smothered out by the rhythmic pumping of his IV. His vision of the rocket’s red glare would have been of 4th of July’s past, when he was either lighting his own explosive creations or watching others. Last night, the only red glare in his room was the blinking LED’s from the many machines reading, watching, and carefully monitoring his progress. Dad’s fight for freedom from the tubes is still waging on. He has made so many improvements in the last few days, my head spins. Dad is almost entirely breathing on his own now. For the last 2 days he has spent some very good time in the sitting up position. This makes it easier for him to breathe and recover. Dad’s heart, lungs, and tummy as well as the rest of his internals are working great and doing what they do best. Our celebrations? Dad is responding to questions. Dad is able to sort of communicate with us. Dad is awake more and more. Dad’s body, bruised and battered, is recovering.

Prayer requests for today.
Dad goes for some more tests and scans to see more about his neck. He has indicated that it is causing him some pain and discomfort. We hopefully will learn more about his vision and how his eyes are healing in the very near future. As of right now, Dad is communicating to us that he cannot see at all. For me personally? I have been surviving through this ordeal. I am “fine.” I am beginning to think that fine is another 4 letter F word. When asked how I am it is the word that rolls off my tongue. My wife reminds me that fine stands for Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional. I am not fine. How could I be? I am struggling between the transition of dad and husband to my young family and Son to my father who desperately needs to know I am standing beside him. I am torn between standing with Dad and looking for work. There are not enough hours in the day to be all I need to be. I’m tired. I’m frazzled. I am, above all, NOT fine. BUT, I know that my God has not changed. He is that same today as he was before Dad's accident.

Desert Song

Brooke Fraser

This is my prayer in the desert
When all that's within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is the God who provides

This is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved
Of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flame

I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here
This is my prayer in the battle
When triumph is still on its way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on His promise I'll stand

I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favour and providence flow
I know I'm filled to be emptied again
The seed I've received I will sow

Eldon’s Independence is coming soon.

Thank~you to the men and women, and their families in the Military !!! We SALUTE you

For the last 16 days we have been under siege in a foreign place. It is the land of tubes, monitors, sounds of machines, vocabulary challenges, (wish I talked Doctorease a little better) and daily motor trips to Rogue Valley Hospital. It becomes a time to think, to weep, to process all that you've heard, to praise.

In this uncertainty my heart is both broken, and yet sings with thanksgiving. Everyday we catch glimpses of improvement, and marvel at Eldon's progress. What an awesome God we have! Today, July 3rd, Eldon was breathing on his own for 8 hours!! His responses seemed more purposeful, from holding hands, hmmm I like that one:) to wiggling toes and pumping his right leg, and giving the Doc a thumb's up. The plan tomorrow is to do the same, NO breathing machine. The care team will also have Eldon sitting in a chair, this will help with his breathing.

THANK~YOU! Your prayers, your love, and your encouraging words have knitted a colorful hammock of strength.

THANK~YOU! For walking this journey with us.

my scribbling,

sandy

Friday and now Saturday’s update.

Oops time flies.... Praise Report!!!

Week 2 of Dad’s recovery process and with the start of a new week, Dad has turned a corner. Like I have said countless of times before, there have been many praises, numerous miracles, yet an incalculable amount of miles to go.

Let me recap. The last 2 weeks of Dad’s activities. Mainly he’s been playing the game of recovery. Drifting in and out through days of sedation, scans, x-rays, pain and surgery. Dad has had about 17 hours of major facial reconstruction in the last 2 weeks. He has also had his broken leg worked on and some other procedures needed for his speedy recovery. So we have officially turned the corner. Did I already mention that? In the last 24 hours giant hurdles have been overcome. Yes people, it’s time to get your praise hats on! Dad’s last surgery, for now, was on Thursday and it

went great. Dad’s care team feels that at this point it is time for him to stay in the “awake” realm and start learning how to recover. So this morning his sedative medications were lessened to the point where he could respond. The idea is to wean him off them and back to the land of the coherent. Dad is able to communicate with us that he is not too uncomfortable or in too much pain. He can nod his head slightly, and is not only able to respond to questions and wiggle his fingers and toes, but was able to reach his hand out to mom. He could hold her hand and squeeze back in reassurance that he is getting better and will be back to ballooning and chasing after his grandchildren shortly. Such a simple action of reaching out and squeezing a hand was completely out of the realm of possible until just a few short hours ago. WOW!!! Dad also was able to hold in his hand (thanks to his super-duper sister Karen) a “fiddly bit.” This “fiddly bit” as I call it, has some squishy give and tactile appendages that make Dad think. I am looking for some simple mechanical puzzles that I can stump Dad with during his tenuous recovery. Dad also spent the entire day breathing on his own without the aid of the respirator. He still needs massive prayer as he is not able to move himself around yet but things are looking good. Saturday brings more scans to re check and confirm his neck and spine are clear, but the collar will probably remain

for a while more. This is not only to let his jaw heal, but just in case.

Thanks again to everyone who has helped, prayed, and encouraged us through this time. Please keep sending us photos and your favorite stories of Dad as it will help greatly during his recovery time.

~With Integrity

Thursday's surgery

Whew! What a day. Many things to be praising about. Many miles to go still. Another long, but good day. We all are waiting for all the results of the surgery, but what we know so far is... The doc was very happy with the way Dad’s face has been healing. He was also happy with the results of the 3 hour surgery rebuilding his orbits. Dad’s right eye had some bone displacement and now has some mesh and screws holding everything in place so his eye can now fully heal and get to seeing things. His left eye socket needed to have some bone removed and the rest of the pieces worked back into place. We will know in the next few days as Dad starts to be weaned from the sedation and pain medications how much he can move his eyes and what he can see. Did I mention that our current care team plan is to wean Dad from all the sedatives (while balancing the pain medication) to bring him around and get a few steps farther in the road to recovery? This is a huge praise and answer to prayer, as several of us were starting to wonder just how long this uncertainty could last.

As far as the surgeries on repairing his face go, Dad’s surgeon feels that we are done. At least for the next few months. Dad will have to be back on the table to fix the last of the teeth and jaw, but until then he can eat through a straw, right? Speaking of eating, Dad’s jaw is still wired shut to allow for more healing of his jaw and facial bones. His feeding tube was also moved from his mouth directly to his stomach. This is another huge step.

Tons of thanks to everyone who has been encouraging us and praying for us, and Dad’s healing and speedy recovery. Please continue to pray as this adventure is already starting to take its toll, and we have only just begun.

~With Integrity

This is all so surreal...

That man lying in the hospital bed, broken, is my Dad. The man who taught me to ride a bike, to pick a lock, to start a fire (and to put it out), is lying in a bed in the ICU. He doesn’t really look like Dad. His face is a little swollen and his jaw is more square. He actually looks more like my Grandpa than I ever remember. The oddest thing is that he looks just like my almost 2 year old son, Eli.

I don’t know what this accident will mean for Dad. Will he still be like MacGyver? Will he still be able to look at a problem and engineer a solution in his head in seconds? Will he remember the accident? Will he even remember me? All of these questions go unanswered everyday and yet there are still miracles happening daily. Dad is breathing more on his own everyday. Dad is still stable, he will squeeze a hand occasionally and makes it known when he is uncomfortable or something is bothering him. He now has a PICC line in to deliver his plethora of medications. The medical staff took a culture of the fluid in dad’s lungs and

discovered some pneumonia lurking so they now have him on some more specific antibiotics to target that.

His eye orbits will be the primary focus in this afternoon’s surgery which is scheduled for about 2PM. Please pray for the surgeons as they rebuild the bones that support his eyes. When all this is said and done Dad will probably be more titanium than bone! I’m hoping he sets off the metal detectors in the airport!

I will attempt to get another post out today after the surgery... life sometimes gets in the way, what with raising 4 kids and attempting to find some work to pay the bills. Let’s just say, when it rains, it pours.