by Allison Moore | Jun 29, 2014 | Day by Day, Uncategorized |
“If the purpose of art is to nourish the spirit, what more appropriate place to find it than a hospital, where our spirit may encounter its most critical moments.” Eileen Lawton
As most of you probably know or have guessed, we are a family of artists. Vernon originally got a degree in painting and mine was in Acting. Since then, we have both evolved to other mediums. He has moved on to Font Design and I have focused on visual art for the last decade-plus. My parents are both artists and Vernon’s mother teaches watercolor painting in a retirement home. It seems the children are showing talent in that area as well. I must say art is a becoming a wonderful tool for our family. It calms the mind while giving us something to look back on.
Maki is back in New Zealand, but his mother has emailed to tell me that they too are spending time painting and drawing. Since she and Vernon actually met in art school in Norway once upon a time, it should be no surprise that she is a talented painter…and about-to-be-published novelist. While she was here, we discussed the idea of whether children should be encouraged toward art or to a career with potentially-less struggle, but less emotional-connection.
I don’t know if there is a right answer. I do know that many times, I wished I had a different mind that could do law or accounting, or even sit at a desk with a boss, if that meant more security. I know Vernon has thought the same. Maybe our kids will too? But in this time of watching Vernon fight for survival, and next, the long road of recovery to a new-normal, our finances are not the first thing on my mind. Our emotional and spiritual lives are. Suddenly, I have discovered that the kids and I have in-built tools to help work through the hard times in an enjoyable way. And hopefully we are helping our Daddy/Husband by default. Personally, I think everyone has this creative power in them but often they have to re-learn it after leaving it behind as children.
When the nurses told us we could bring in pictures of Vernon and the family, I don’t think they had any idea of monster we might create. Above is just part of the wall to the right, filled with family photos and artwork. Two side-windows are also filled and we have moved to the limited real estate of the left-hand wall. It has been wonderful to have a a musician friend (Chris, above) come by to help Vernon make brain-connections through live music-vibrations as well.
My dear friend, Alannah Gignac, who stayed at the house this weekend to watch Justine, drew this wonderful piece of a broken-up and patched mind and a bridge toward healing.
I was so touched the other day, when a nurse responded to my statement that I wasn’t at bedside enough, by saying: “But you ARE here, you are here through your photos and your artwork.” I felt greatly validated, I admit. Probably more than I ever have before. Because for the first time, it is a matter of actual survival.
I am sure we will continue to share more about the artwork and pictures on Vernon’s wall. But I want to share one more important piece. Justine drew this one a couple of weeks ago, before Vernon began to wake up. I’m amazed by her intuition.
She said, “This is a picture of Mommy, taking care of Daddy , who is a baby right now.” (See the little red figure in the bottom corner?) I am struck especially by the “hedge of protection” (my words) that makes a frame around the drawing. I noticed how it is attached under mommy’s wing/arm. And its not that I feel especially strong, but I do want to protect him and that comes from the faith around and inside of me. The kid could be an Oracle…
As for today, Vernon has moved off methadone, which must be exhausting due to the constant pain now. He is only on hospital-grade tylenol for his fevers. And he continues to trial his breathing off the ‘standing-by’ ventilator, Oxygen sucked in through a tube, and on his own for the exhale. He seemed too tired today to follow many commands, but I know for at least a little while he was with us. As we are speaking of the healing power of the arts, he was most relaxed when his friend Chris Owen came to play guitar and also when a surprise harpist (her name-tag said ‘spiritual care’) came to perform a in the hallway.
by Allison Moore | Jun 28, 2014 | Day by Day, Uncategorized |
Yesterday, Vernon had another procedure that would allow the doctors to try to drain the hematoma in his pelvic region. They didn’t discover the infection living there, so the mystery continues. I trust it will be discovered soon. He continues to run high sweating fevers, but this could also be the body reacting to the drug withdrawal as well as the head-trauma.
However, today we were pleasantly surprised to discover that they were ready to trial Vernon off the ventilator. In this case oxygen is delivered to Vernon through a ‘mask’ over the trach in his neck and he is able to exhale on his own. It can be challenging for the patient to get used to this breathing, but it didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it, and when I left the hospital later in the day, he was still using it. The nurse told me that if he kept breathing well on it, it wouldn’t be a trial wean after all, and he could stay off the ventilator for good.
Perhaps we should change the name of the blog?
In the past couple of days, as Vernon’s eyes have opened wider and he has been able to squeeze some communication through his arm, I have been feeling the need to be by his side even more to give him a voice to hold on to. Yesterday, I thought to ask him if it was dark. He squeezed my hand hard, and I realized that though his eyes are open, he can’t actually see any of us. He hears all these voices around him, some strange, some familiar. I told one of the surgeons that Vernon was now able to communicate a bit through his hand and arm, but when the surgeon held his hand, Vernon refused to squeeze it. In Vernon’s mind, this man (who has visited him nearly every day) was a stranger. It was then that I realized the importance of my own voice in his room. I think he must be quite frightened as he tries to make sense of the fog. A loving touch and familiar voice must be such a relief.
And actually, its a relief to me to know that he recognizes mine.
Today, Vernon had a new (to us) nurse in the room. Lynda is big on making sure the patient works toward their recovery. It wasn’t just enough to see Vernon was exhaling without a respirator. She wanted to challenge him to start following voice commands. As it is unlikely he can see us, she wanted to have him try to move toward our voices. He couldn’t move his head or his eyes yet, but we could tell he was straining hard to move his right side (again the shoulder-arm-hand) toward the sounds of those he knew. She encouraged us to keep commanding him to move his thumb, as the cognitive head-hand connection would be important for him to make. He isn’t there yet, but I can see he is straining to make something happen. After a few tries, he was exhausted enough to sleep again for awhile. I believe his trying is a very good sign that his brain is still strong and that he WANTS to be strong as well.
And this is how we inch forward…
by Jen | Jun 27, 2014 | Day by Day, Uncategorized |
Hi, I’m Jen. If I haven’t met you somewhere along this journey, I’m one of the many people out there blessed first by Allison’s friendship, then by the addition of Vernon and Maki into her, and our lives. It was about a year ago that Vernon, a font designer, and myself, a graphic designer, decided to set up an office space in downtown San Clemente. We painted a wall, built a couple tables, and have shared many laughs over coffee or tea with friends and clients. That gives you some background to my posting to the blog this evening.
Today I had the opportunity to make a visit to the hospital with Allison and our friend Allanah. It had been about a week since I had seen Vernon. I picked up a couple of his font and design books from the office, as something familiar to share and maybe read to him. On my last visit, he had just begun to open his eyes and his jaw was still wired shut. It was special to know that Allison was finally beginning to get some face time on the other side of the intense sedation he had been under. I hope you don’t think this is bad of me, but I think I had hoped for him to be able to express himself more than he could. And I think that just comes from not knowing exactly what to expect. As we ask many questions so that we might know what we can reasonably anticipate in Vernon’s recovery, the answer boils down to this, each person is different. Vernon’s case is unique to him, his combination of injuries, how long he’ll take to overcome the next hurdle.
And just as I was feeling unsure of how things are going, I could see ‘hope’ all over again today. ‘Signs and Wonders’ if you will.
He really had progressed so much since my last visit. Where he had one eye open, he now held both eyes open. And closed them on Ali’s request. I spied a new cautious testing of his jaw movement. Hand squeezes and raising his shoulders indicated a clear response to our questions.
Now those of you who know me are aware of my off-beat sense of humor. You’ll enjoy this. Somehow in our talking to Vernon, I asked about my poor sense of humor. I asked “Vernon, squeeze Ali’s hand if I have the worst sense of humor.” Well, I thought I was in the clear as no response initially came, then sure enough, the biggest shoulder movement and squeeze we’d seen so far. Geez, thanks Vernon.
In all seriousness, I know you would all be as touched as I was, to see Allison gently ask Vernon questions, to let him know what is happening, how Maki and Justine are, and just their special connection in this new way of communicating. These next days will require equal doses patience and encouragement. I smile ear to ear when I see all of the ways their friends, church and community have rallied around the Adam’s family. You guys, you are great — I see my dear friend Allison being strengthened by you. And I see Vernon being astounded not too long in the future, when he feels the love that has poured in for him from around the world.
I look forward to seeing what is next, celebrating with all of you the small signs each day that Vernon is healing. My fortune cookie said at lunch today – “The sky’s the limit this month” – I grinned, that’s for my pal Vernon, on his journey back to us. Thanks for reading my post, from one friend to another.
Thankful and Hopeful,
Jen
“He rescues and he saves; he performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth…” Daniel 6:7
by Allison Moore | Jun 26, 2014 | Day by Day, Uncategorized |
The mantra of the SICU: “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
There must be a more interesting way to keep saying the same thing, something for the non-runners among us. Since I’ve never run a marathon (but have always admired those who do) I don’t actually know what this means. I guess it means its a loooooong race– that takes a different kind of training and mindset. This hit me today when I found out that the other two long-term families (who came in after us) and have been watching their loved ones’ recovery (one with an aneurysm, one with a stroke) will be leaving this weekend. No, they aren’t leaving for home, but for rehabilitation hospitals elsewhere. They are on that next phase of the journey, where we are still making teensy steps forward…and the occasional step back.
The Oral Surgeon removed the wires from Vernon’s jaw with no problems and tells me he is done with his work here . He gave me a card to check up with him in 6 months. Apparently his mended jaw is still so sore, that even without the wiring, it will be hard to move. We shouldn’t expect to hear any words from Vernon for a while. He will also continue to be fed his “vanilla milkshake of perfection” from tubes through his stomach. However, I did see him yawn for the first time today! Progress!
The gastro-surgeon was able to find the problem of bleeding in the stomach and has cauterized the problematic vein. AMAZING what these people can do via mini-cameras. Whatever small pride I felt as a photographer has been humbled with one fell swoop. I certainly haven’t saved any lives with MY camera.
Today, yet another infection was discovered through his regular CT Scan. This time it is a large hematoma in his upper pelvic area. For those not aware of this medical term (like me, till noon today) a hematoma is a localized collection of blood outside the blood vessel. It needs to be drained but only if it hasn’t turned into a clot. Ugh, if its weird reading terms like this, try to understand that it’s even weirder for me to be using them…let alone understanding them. What a surreal world.
We need Chris Adams back in town to make this stuff sound more interesting and clear. But yes, Vernon still needs prayer. With every step forward, there is another problem. Not life-threatening, as the doctors get on these things as soon as they see them. But still the body is a complicated eco-system of its own…what heals one area may cause a reaction somewhere else.
And so we continue the race…without previous training.
We like our headgear, apparently.
by Allison Moore | Jun 24, 2014 | Day by Day, Uncategorized |
em·pa·thy
ˈempəTHē/
noun
-
the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.
‘Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.’ –Ian Maclaren
This is a photo of David, who works the coffee cart in the main lobby of the hospital. Not only does he make a mean soy cappuccino, but he takes his position seriously as someone there to care…an empathetic ear to whomever comes through his queue. People are coming into the hospital all day, every day, for all reasons, but each with a story that is more important to them at that moment than anything else. Some are coming in to deliver a new baby, some are coming in to say their last goodbyes. The patients may be the ones receiving medical attention, but the families are usually in need of comfort too.
I get this sense every day as I go to the hospital, that the nurses are there to take care of Vernon AND me, and they seem to do it joyfully. Every person who works in this hospital seem to take their (sometimes small-seeming) jobs as opportunities to be kind to people who are truly fighting a personal battle (or celebrating a victory!) And I’m sure they often make a big difference. Oh, what an example they are. If we could all live with that mentality all the time, not just in the hospital, can you imagine?
There are no small players. Even the parking lot rises to the occasion: as you drive in, there is a sign that reads “PEACE TO WHO ALL WHO COME HERE” and a sign on the way out that reads “PEACE BE WITH YOU.”
As for Vernon, the wires were taken out of his jaw this evening. Hopefully, the staff will be able to give us more information tomorrow on infections and how they will treat them. Not always interesting news for the blog…nor are the legal issues I am startling to tackle. Maybe by the end of this, I’ll feel like a real live ADULT. And Vernon will move around like one!
by Allison Moore | Jun 23, 2014 | Day by Day, Uncategorized |
Today, one of Vernon’s close friends, Chris Owen, played a little improvisational guitar to help lure him back to us with some good vibrations. He seemed to really wake up to it, even responding with some body movement (typically shoulder shrugs, which seem to control the ‘hand-squeezes’ we have been getting from him.) These movements are a big deal for him because any kind of physical reaction is exhausting…sometimes he will fall back to sleep after just a couple of minutes of just keeping his eyes open. Anyway, it is said that music brings healing, and though I have been playing recorded music in the room for him, the strumming of a real instrument from a good friend was balm to his soul…and mine. Thanks for your active friendship, Chris, and for offering up your musical gifts as well.
Another high point today is that I saw Kathleen, the Spiritual Care worker, who was our hospital guide the night of the accident. I hadn’t seen her since that night, exactly one month ago, May 23rd. Apparently she roams the hospital halls late at night because, in her words, she “doesn’t like authority.” How perfect: just Vernon’s kind of gal. She told me she comes by his room and prays for him on her nightly walks. She also said that that his wall filled with pictures and cards and the stream of friends coming in to see him makes it a positive place for not just his own healing but also for the healers. So please keep sending in the love, it is changing his environment.
Here is Kathleen, our night angel since Day One.
As for today’s more clinical update, without going into too much detail, I saw two new doctors today I hadn’t met before. One is testing his blood for infections, which seem to be raising their nasty heads. Par for the course, apparently…it’s a matter of changing antibiotics. And the other will be doing an upper endoscopy (a camera sent into the stomach) to check for bleeding, because there has been some blood loss. At the moment she can’t go through the mouth because Vernon’s jaw is wired tight. However because of this necessary procedure, Dr. Cummings, the Oral Surgeon, will take the wires out a week earlier than planned. This may actually be a blessing in disguise as Vernon will have less uncomfortable obstructions deal with as he comes back to waking life.
As always, I am in awe of the detailed care Vernon is getting. I wonder if he isn’t in the best hospital in the world. It certainly has my vote!
