Vernon was sent home from the ER the other night with a recommendation to see a certain orthopedic surgeon, who, it turned out, didn’t take Vernon’s Medi-Medi insurance. I was bracing myself to pay the cash for today’s appointment, but then I got a call from the case manager at Mesa Verde, telling me that doctor wouldn’t see him at all, regardless of cash. She and the social worker reported today that they’d called every other place they could think of, but no one would see him till late next week. We were concerned about this because his arm needs to be fixed soon. He can’t keep it elevated and refuses to keep the brace and bandaging off, if he can get them off himself.
I am especially concerned about future problems, in particular infection. We’ve been down that road before, but not over his previously broken bones. So since I already had a babysitter for Justine, I went up to see him anyway, even if the appointment had been cancelled. The case manager, doctor, and I all agreed we were worried about waiting till late next week so we had him sent to the ER yet again. I feel bad taking up more resources if they aren’t necessary, but I was feeling at a loss. And I don’t like that these things take so long (or don’t happen at all.) Where I have some control, I want to utilize it, I guess.
Also its a rare time that I can actually be with him in the hospital (often he is sent at night and I’m home with the kiddos so I do things over the phone…if I’m lucky.) So we wanted to take advantage of the afternoon window. I’m glad I did, because I was able to explain in person what was going on. The (youngest yet) doctor assigned to his room heard me out and looked over his x-rays. He thinks its going to be okay for a few more days but the brace needed to replaced. This time, they got serious with layers of wrap.
Adding to the list of things I’ve never seen before, they used a special kind of bandage to wrap him up inside all those layers of gauze and netting: an air drying bandage wrap, which hardens like a light cast. I hope it lasts till Thursday, when we have our appointment in Irvine with a specialist. I’ll believe it when it’s over, but for now it’s on the calendar. My hope is that he can get surgery that day and this won’t continue to play out for weeks.
We’ve got other things to do!
PS…Maki is back in New Zealand now with his other family, surely having a great time.
And guess what? Vernon remembered. 🙂
PPS (half an hour after posting this) I just got the call from Mesa Verde that Vernon has already taken off his soft cast. Why am I not surprised?
I’m waiting for a call from the ER, letting me know what Vernon’s status is, and whether he will be admitted overnight or sent home again. I’m worried about his arm.
On Wednesday, I noticed some swelling on his left arm. Every day it got worse, and today it looked like one of Popeye’s forearms. Yesterday, x-rays exposed that the plate embedded to heal his fractures two years ago had broken. I didn’t see the x-rays so I don’t know what that looks like specifically, but I can’t think of how that could have happened…unless it was Monday’s fall, which seemed pretty gentle, though again…I wasn’t there.
That said, he wasn’t complaining of pain unless it was touched, and he was able to play a hand of UNO with us. He’s apparently been asking to join in when he sees the other patients play from time to time…Joe told me this and told me that he’ll try to make it happen now that he sees he can play. He’s also been asking to look at Facebook, Joe says. This must be because he’s been more interested in looking at his friend’s pages, and though he can’t type yet, he is starting to find his way around on his own.
I just got off the phone with the ER. I still don’t know for sure, but it sounds as if he will be sent home. He does have a pending orthopedic appointment, hopefully for tomorrow, so if they don’t do anything at the hospital tonight, hopefully the next round of doctor can help him.
Some exerpts one of Vernon’s letters, 14th Jan 06. He was coming to the end of his divorce and staying with his parents, taking odd jobs and applying for grad school. I’d be visiting him in England soon.
“I’m worried that when you see me in my present environment, you will feel disappointed: I don’t feel that I am the true me at the moment; I have no home, most of my possessions are scattered or in storage. I want you to know this Alli—I am not totally what I will be, when you visit: I am much much more than this. Hmm I guess if you like me like this, then you would like me even more when I get to be 100% back to living the way I ideally do.”
The context is very different, but what a note, right? I feel like his younger self was giving words to his older post-tbi self. I can look at Vernon, while I’m reading this and feel it’s exactly what he would be telling me now, if he could put it like that.
He then went on to dream about a future where we would support ourselves by being creative. His words spoke even now to some of my own neglected dreams.
“I have decided this is what I want…a home with you and a Saab automatic. Don’t mind how I get it but I hope part of it gets paid for by being creative. If most of it comes from doing something non-creative, then its a fair deal. Having said that, you and I have so much ability and talent that one day we should expect to reach all our income from doing what we are gifted to do. Something tells me you think like this too. And something tells me that you have the ability to manage to do it too: you may just need the right type of supportive partner to give you the right base to rest on to work at your best. Do you think that’s true? Few people are at their strongest when truly independent.”
Few people are at their strongest when truly independent.
“Um…lack of words…errr…What can I write about? We write to each other sooo much!! Ahh maybe I can daydream more. Is it right that in good memories and in daydreams, the sun is always shining? Maybe that’s why I think of you and me living in California? Because when I try to imagine the future, the sun is shining? Maybe that’s why I think of you and me living in California? Because when I try to imagine the future, the sun is shining!! I drive in my automatic car: the sun is shining We walk together: the sun is shining. We walk in our bed in the morning: the sun is shining.”
We didn’t live in California for many years, but since he’s been at Mesa Verde, I have often thought in gratitude that he does live in a perfect climate town and whenever I visit him there, we are able to sit outside and most days of the year, the sun is shining.
Oh…and also a picture from Justine, found in her bring-home bag at the end of the year.
“Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”— John Muir
Just a few more days left of school. A few days of finals at the high school for Maki and then he’ll be off to New Zealand. Justine just celebrated her official sixth birthday on Friday and will be a flower girl for the first time next weekend. It suddenly feels like there is a lot going on. What better way to deal with all of that than to run away together for a couple of days?
Actually it wasn’t just us…Maki’s “village” came too. That’s what I call Chris Adams and Scott and Sarah Hendrix, three friends in particular who have gone out of their way to take him to the climbing gym, movies, meals out, and even math study sessions. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and I know Maki and I both appreciate it.
Since they all love climbing, we based ourselves in the mountain town of Idyllwild, about a two hour drive. It worked out great. We rented a four bedroom airbnb cabin and the four of them took off to climb big boulders while I mostly stayed behind to watch Justine and Chris’ son, Zephyr, her dear buddy. So I didn’t get any climbing photos this time, but I did follow the littles around as they explored the woods nearby.
Kids in the forest? Muses in magic! Of course I was happy just following them around with my camera. We also went into town and bought ice cream and I let them play Angry Birds inside while I took a little time to paint on the deck. It was win win for all. Later in the day, we all joined together for food and I got my break to take walks alone. Later still, the gang would watch rock climbing movies projected on a white sheet taped high on the cabin wall. It was perfect, something for everyone…all at the same time.
Here’s a local from one of the few shops (and something from his collection). Worth the trip in itself.
I am getting in a pretty good habit of packing art supplies whenever I go away (at least by car) and so I forced myself to paint/draw a pinecone—they were everywhere. Not an easy task, as it turned out. My mind struggled so much to figure out the layers and remember where I’d left off…it was almost painful.
But I pressed on, because I thought about Vernon, and all the exercises we set for him, artistically and otherwise, hoping to that his brain will make new connections. He’s a natural, obviously, but look how hard it is to rise above when you don’t trust what you already have in you…somewhere. But what if we all are—naturals, I mean—underneath our stubborn brains that can’t translate what is right in front of us because it just seems too intricate and impossible. What if we can do anything if we just keep working on it?
I got lost (and frustrated) somewhere in there, but it was a good mind exercise. Hopefully, it grew a little. I know my soul did.
So…now we are back down the mountain, already started on our last busy week as a threesome, energized and refreshed. Thanks, kids. Thanks, Village. Thanks, Woods. Thanks, God.
“Thank you for finding these letters,” Vernon said with some emotion today as I reread some of the bigger ones to him today (this is our third day in a row reading the letters and he seemed to know what to expect a little more each day.) I want to record this because in my mind, I feel like I ams seeing a real leap in his spirit over the past few days, and it comes from his own words read back to himself. I marvel each day because there seems to be a strengthened awakening. In mine and Vernon’s hearts, this makes so much sense, because we are the kind of people who speak from the heart. Why shouldn’t Vernon be moved to memory when his own most-alive-heart-put-into-words speaks life to his older distant-and-damaged self?
Among plans for the future, Maki, and me, one of the messages that kept coming up in those letters was the interest in painting again. I was painting (barely for a living) at the time we met and he was very taken by that fact. He kept calling me “painter girl” or something like that. I think he must have romanticized it too, as it would never have been enough to support a family on…I hadn’t arrived or anything, but I loved that he held my work in such high esteem. For an artist, that’s enough to make one feel loved, right there! Anyway, I’m picking up on the messages now too, messages in these old letters, that remind me he had a reoccurring daydream of painting again and that it would be part of our lives together. He went to grad school right after we married and threw himself into typeface design, while I dabbled and then realized I had no ready audience for my work in the UK and started working other jobs that I found interesting and helped pay the bills. Painting drifted more to the background for both of us. When we moved to America, he brought it up again. “I’m ready to paint again. I think your parents working in their studio offer a great opportunity and inspiration.” But then of course, a money-making job had to happen here too and all that got pushed to the sidelines again. Right now, the only paintings we have of Vernon’s time with us as a family are on the living room wall (2) and in Maki’s bedroom (3).
Today after we sat in the June sunshine, rereading his letters (at his own request) he felt up to painting for a bit. This time he used his right hand, which usually stumps his movement— but today, it flourished. I’m guessing this is the fruit of the past few weeks of restorative therapy on the omnicycle …they do insist he uses both hands, or at least tries to. He’s also using his left hand to wash the brush and load the paint.
It’s relaxing to watch him, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure it relaxes him too. Not that he is always in the mood for this. Today we sat for an hour reading old letters before he was in the mood. And that was after sending his RNA away because he didn’t want to go to the gym (I made him promise to be cool about it when asked to go again this afternoon. Hope he remembered.)
Here is the boat. Synnove, who had known him first in art school in Bergen when he was painting full time, has told me that he always painted the background of his pieces. He seems to continue to do that in his recent work. So interesting…and also kind of brilliant, no?
It’s not just romance and painting that has come up in these letters. Maki, who was quite young at the time they were written, keeps coming up in the handwriting. It’s quite remarkable, actually, that I have actual words to share with Maki from Vernon’s heart over a decade ago. I knew reading them touched Vernon (and me) but I wasn’t sure if it was the right time to tell Maki. But he hasn’t missed much in this journey, so I pulled him aside last night to read whatever I could find about him in this pile of old letters. He hasn’t told me yet what he thought of them, perhaps he never will. But he listened intently. Today, I told Vernon, as I re read those parts to him, that I had passed them on to Maki as well. Vernon’s eyes filled up with his dry-tears and he thanked me.
So basically…what has been happening for the past while, and I would say increasingly after finding the letters, is that Vernon resonates most from his heart. He is interested only in deep and important parts of humanity. He wants to talk about love, family, connections, even God. He gets bored talking about the weather or what he considers inane subjects, details he can’t relate to. He connects, he relaxes, when he is talked to from the heart. I marvel at this…but it seems like this has been the portal of communication to his mind. Through the heart, through the soul. I’m so thankful that in Vernon’s injury, this has not been taken. In fact, in some ways, he seems more purely connected to truth than anyone I know.
In some ways, I said. But still, there are those. 🙂
“He who works with his hands is a laborer. He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.” —Francis of Assisi
A special cover of Vernon's fav song 'Waterloo Sunset' by friend and singer/song-writer Ian McGlynn. All proceeds support Vernon's recovery! Donate what you can and download a beautiful song in return.
[bandcamp width=250 height=250 album=689425947 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 minimal=true]
