Intention

"I need you to do that with me."

That is actually what he said to me as I walked around Jim's hospital bed.

"What, honey?"

"Intention."

This is amazing. If you are familiar with Doctor Wayne Dyer, a favorite author of Jim's, the reference to intention is from his book, "The Power of Intention". Both of us were reading this book before the incident April 15th. Reading it for the second time for me, and probably the third of fourth time for Jim. It's still on my nightstand, and a go to book along with Marcus Aurelius', "Meditations". There are several books we both look to as life books. Extensions of God's continued work through people and words. For Jim to refer to this specifically is amazing. You would have to read the book, which I highly recommend, to further get the depth of teaching. But, the Reader's Digest version is that we come from love, kindness, abundance. Because, that's what God is. Abundance in everything. Because he wants to provide all good things for us.

So Jim basically was asking me to be in agreement with his intention to be fully healed. The fact that he had this in mind... his immediate thoughts... is remarkable. It tells you where his thinking is. Right where it should be. And, right where my thinking is also.

 His belief in a loving God... A God of peace and kindness. A God of health and healing. A God of infinite abundance. A God of love. In spite of everything that has happened, and what he has been through in the last six and a half weeks... This is where Jim's thinking is.

Have intention with us, please. Intention that Jim is fully healed and restored,  physically and mentally with remarkable speed, and the belief that this experience is for good. That it will be used to encourage and help others and express God's intentions for each of us.

 We hope each of you understand that you come from this love and abundance. And, in spite of external circumstances, doubts of others, or what the news or your family says, this is truth. And truth does not need approval to be so. It simply is.

Forward

So much going on. 

No trach. ( removed yesterday). Talking. 99% oxygen intake without help. Left leg and foot purposeful movement, intentional movement, and resistance. Reading some words. Reading sentences. Counting out loud. Sounding out words. Better focus. Strength to sit in a wheel chair 3 hours, sometime right leg helping to propel. Crossing legs....with assistance. More motivation. A man's handshake in response to an extended hand, along with a greeting. More interaction. Feet in the bicycle machine he helped propel but make him moves both legs from hip to toe. Humming. Wheels turning. More...more...More.

More.

The biggest impact sentence today ..." I knew you would come."

Tomorrow....swallow test. A preface to food and liquids intake!

Doesn't this make you want to know what's next? 

Forward.

Limbs

 Out on a limb. Limb from limb. Life and limb. Limbs are important or the word would not show up in either-or metaphors over the ages.

 Jim started out with four, beautifully working limbs and appendages. Trained and worked over the years since high school to embellish what DNA and God gave him. Never taking them for granted, but not really knowing was like not to have beautiful... Working... Limbs.

Challenges. Reasonable ones where he understands the rules, he gets. So the rules here may throw him a little bit... may make him question, but nonetheless his limbs... All four...are moving. The left leg. The left foot. Moving. Adjusting, wiggling, pressing. Tendon nerves and muscles in his calf and shin are firing and twitching. Not for a few seconds, but minute after minute throughout the afternoon.

He read words on the t v.

He told me the time.

He put together sentences. Sometimes, quite often, the words were not the words you expected, but he formed sentences anyway. He responded to questions, and had some quips he threw in for good measure, along with raised eyebrows.

The night before, he was naughty. He got a hold of the g tube and gave it a good yank that sent him on a midnight ride to another hospital, so it could be reinserted. Not terrible. Just a more expressive way to say he's coming back, And he would rather do it without those annoying tubes.

 Feisty. I like it.

Confusion

 When you are building your life back together in blocks of time, the sequence could be off some on any given day. You have kids. You don't have kids. You're young enough to have to ask your dad for an answer. You're an engineer spouting F2 this and connection box that. Even if the smartest of us only use less than 10% of their brain... ever... what is happening in the other 90 some percent? Maybe every memory is really all in there, to be reassembled in the proper time frame. From the 1st time you tried S'mores, to the first time you ever heard your parents argue. Memories that seem to disappear into the grey cosmos. But, they didn't.

And, like a giant box of Legos, it's all there to build something fantastic. Foundation first. Put together... Take a part .. Add this... Subtract that.

It's an amazing process. The mental aspects. The physical. Emotional. The core of who you are is still there. Jim is still polite. He covers his mouth automatically when he coughs. He says thank you. He is quippy. He is fidgety. He's impatient. He gets overwhelmed and signs off or plays possum. He's warm.

Yesterday, his daughter was able to spend some time with him. So I got a good report that in therapy he threw a ball, went outside in the wheelchair, talked a lot, and breathed room air again. He even moved his right leg forward as if to take a step. Whether these will be memories that get stored or remembered, he did them. And, we will remember them.

He may be confused as to what is going on... Who he is today... Who someone else is... But I see him knitting his story back together. Take your time. Do it right. Amaze them all.

Mailing address:

Jim Williams 

P. O. Box 821771

N. Richland Hills , TX 76182

Core

 The day yesterday was a disconnect day. Not a lot of eye contact. Not as much cooperation with the speech therapist and almost zip with the occupational therapist. It was one of those down days in some ways, not all ways. Ok. There are going to be down days. This is a tough journey. It's not all hoorays and atta-boys. Sometimes the reality of the situation has got to look like a concrete wall he has to scale from his side of the lens.

Obviously, I am reading my version into it, because I don't know for sure. But, I have a good guess as to why the spiral from blah...to... a depressed chin on a fist and head down. He started out the day being really sleepy and a little disconnected after a good session with a physical therapist early. But when OT required three people to get him in a wheelchair... he is a tall guy... and he could not move his legs as they wanted him to... I believe the smack of the current reality hit. It was head down from here forward.

We went to the gym! A gym for Jim! Right up his alley. What she was asking was kindergarten stuff to and athlete. She was wonderful at acknowledging what he had been through and what great progress he has made, then explaining the development of the core to allow the rest of the body to function as it should. Her dad was an engineer also, so she understood the intellect and success of that accomplishment along with the athlete mentality and appealed to him on that level. He could talk. But, he would not. A head nod from time to time. Just to be polite. With some efforts to change the challenge and focus, we still did not get any desire to try. Today. But, he did sit upright for over an hour, and stretched out his right leg off the foot brace. Without being asked.

On the upside... The speech valve was on all... Day... Long. And, he was on room air only... All day. No corrugated hose. At this rate, they will cap the trach. Which leads to remove the trach. Which leads to real food intake. More independence. More control over his own body and destiny. That certainly should appeal to him.

A couple small infections are under control, including pneumonia which was caught early. And, he is doing better on the protein diet than before. Still, he is down forty some pounds.

There's a lot to be grateful for. I would be really grateful for a magic wand I could wave. Fairy tale stuff. Instead, we are required to have fortitude and unshakable faith along with being in harmony of who God is. God wants the best for us. Health. Joy. Happiness. Love. But, that foundation is tested in times like these. Still...he is always giving. Always loving. And we must remain open to the receiving all that he offers in abundance. Depression. Doubt. Whining. Anger. ( long list) They are not in harmony with him and are obstacles to receiving that abundance.

So, it's okay to be mad or sad or pouty for a while. But, to receive... we must remove all obstacles... Give gratitude for what is already manifested... And believe. Or as I take the liberty with a certain scripture... Ask... And duck.

Reality

 It is an interesting position to be in to watch the different aspects of Jim's healing over the weeks. The physical, the mental. From the blank stare of unfamiliarity, to hints of awareness, to recognition. Yet, it is all progression. It's the wires connecting and the batteries charging, synapses coming alive, and it all influences where we might be for the day.

The other day, I heard references and words that I recognized as engineering. Telecommunications engineering. Maybe there were some computer tech references, since he is known to be a go-to guy to figure out computer glitches and cyber stubbornness.

Yesterday, he apparently was much younger and starting out with the phone company. And, even younger still. When I got there a little later. I wasn't sure he knew me at first, but he grabbed my hand, and I heard the word... Honey. At times, he seemed to like his sheet tent a lot and disappeared under it when he had enough. He started out a little unsettled, but became calmer as the day went on.

The fact that he is more awake, interactive and participating changes everything. Much is being required of him. He is being challenged, and I think that appeals to his inner sense of competition. In 24 hours, he went from a 10 minute transfer to a wheelchair for a bed change, to a 30 minute wheelchair sitting with his head up and change of scenery to a large open hallway, His reality changing by the minute it seems.

It is so fluid. Reality. His. Mine. Yours. It is so influenced by external elements. A simple change of attitude can change your reality from a sad or stressed day, to a day of possibilities and gratitude. I am anxious to see the reality trip we are taking today.

Hello!

 Once he came out of a very deep sleep, Jim greeted several people. " Hi Jim! Nice to see you!" " Nice to be seen," he replied. That is so Jim. It was delightful.

Through the morning and early afternoon, he was seen by several professionals, all of which had good or really good interactions with him. The speech therapist encouraged him with ice, explaining that the more he swallows, the faster he can take in real food. That cottage cheese he likes so much. And, of course the ability to talk will increase as his vocal chord strengthen. He talked quite a bit, and did so well that they left the speech valve on for 2 hours.

A first! He was able to sit in a wheelchair while they changed his mattress to one of those wonderful air mattresses,  to make him as protected and comfortable as possible. After he was situated, he kicked back a little, hands clasped on top of his head... in pure Jim fashion... and watched a little NBA news. As long as there was action, that is. Talking heads... Not so much.

 We browsed our ten year anniversary book, and he turned a couple of pages. Photos showing snippets of our life. Symphony. His choir group, Regal Opera and all the friends. Our dance group at the Margarita Ball. A stage shot of Chris Botti and his trumpet. Billy Joel at the piano. Jim with the Cessna airplane he flew for his 60th birthday. Trips to Montana, Colorado, and Utah. Romantic dinners at Classic Cafe. Certainly we can not cram our life into a few glossy pages, but even fragments of our life contribute more memories. He remembered George Strait at the 2015 ACM Awards, and was particularly drawn to the microphone in the photo.

He was very interactive. For hours. Then. Sleep time.

It is such a great opportunity to be with so many therapists, nurses and physicians that want to help him improve, and have the same goals. Bring...Jim...Back.

To cheer him on....

Mailing Address:

Jim Williams 

P. O. Box 821771

N. Richland Hills , TX 76182

This L'il Piggy

 Not one. Not two. All five toes on Jim's left foot wiggled. Not prodded. Not poked. Or pinched. Just wiggled as if stretching out of some long sleep.

Twice that I saw. Left foot!

What else is he doing when nobody sees?

R & R

 The move from the trauma hospital to the rehab hospital took a lot out of Jim. The prep of backup oxygen, the poking and prodding, lots of chatter, the transfer to the ambulance gurney, the jostling of the ride. The mental stress of wondering what is going on. When you have zero control of your body, situation and safety... It would seem you either have to completely surrender to the point of don't care, or there has to be some level of internal concern or stress.

I believe he was glad to leave the surgical wing where he has been for the last week and a half. And, I believe he will realize that the rehab hospital is a good place to be. But honestly, he is just exhausted. 

He is busy healing. That's what the general care physician said this morning when he came in to see him and introduce himself. At the same time, waiting in the wings of the room was the physical therapist. He did a nice smooth, controlled and careful series of stretches and movements, and also sat Jim up on the edge of the bed. That's when his eyes finally popped open, and he supported himself to sit. He got settled back in bed with little time, when the Pulmonologist came in to change the trach to a non-cuff style. Same size diameter, but since he is not on the ventilator there is no reason or need for the cuffed style of trach. The non-cuffed style takes up less space in the throat, causes less throat irritation and will prepare him for swallowing again. Logical. It's one thing I have been waiting for.

It wasn't long before the speech therapist came in. He did do a couple of finger squeezes for her, but they weren't enthusiastic....eyes closed the entire time. In fact, he really did not want to see much of anything today. The big treat.... Ice!! Yep. For the first time in two weeks, he was offered ice again. He was given the opportunity to chew and swallow and show someone what he could do. 1..2..3..4..5 Pieces of ice. Chewed up....with some enthusiasm and swallowed. He made some tired and mumbled words with the speech valve on, but more sounds of discomfort and exhaustion.

There was not much of a break, And the occupational therapist arrived, with the side event of chest x rays to be sure all is well with those huge lungs of his.

The dietian also came in to discuss his body weight, significant weight loss, and additional nutrition and calories for him to work with as he becomes more physically involved with his own healing.

The attention he is getting his phenomenal. But, it is attention that also needs his personal involvement. He hasn't had much of that in the last month. So, there is rest and restoration going on here, most definitely, but much more interaction. And, it's going to be a lot more work along with that R and R.

It's early in the recovery. It's early in the rehabilitation. I believe he is still going to surprise everybody.

Evaluations

Jim always tells me he interviews well. That he actually enjoys the process.

Told you he was different the most.

There's a new set of interviews and evaluations on the schedule. Occupational therapist. Physical therapist. Respiratory therapist. Dietitions. Neurologist. We won't know real specifics until later in the week. It's the process. So for right now, know that he is still progressing. He is safe. He is with well educated, caring professionals who want the best for him...and, I believe were already on the path determined for him to help him repair and recover. His room is private, bright and has a huge window to see birds, grass and trees...when he decides that's going to be more interesting to look at. We talked about putting a bird feeder outside the window, and I think that's going to happen today.  In the meantime, there will be music like we do. Some Tony Bennett, Josh Groban, Andrea Bocelli, Jimmy Durante, and maybe some Judy Collins and Billy Joel. Some reading of cards and messages.

And there's some older NCIS on TV he can see...or not... depending on his mood. And, if there are too many people in the room, talking too much, and he wants to leave... He can just yank that sheet over his head and block them all out.

Personally, I get that.

Your job......

Keep praying.

Keep believing in his healing.

Know that some of the details you may want to ask about, really don't matter.

Know that I am updating, posting and keeping you informed because we know how much you care. We want you included.

Know at some point, some visitors will be a great idea.

And, we will have that post office box for your wishes and blessings.

And most of all, God has this.

Junctions

Karen here. Standing in for Jim. Still.

Another junction."Y" in the road. Big one. 5 weeks today that a collision of two vehicles spun out of control and invaded the sidewalk where Jim was jogging in place waiting to cross the intersection...struck him... And created the world we previously did not know.

There have been many progressions over the weeks, creating many junctions where things could have gone either way. Whatever direction was taken at each "Y", the series led us to where we are now. Whether he has been able to consciously decide some of those junctions, we may never know. But, we do know that faith, prayer... Constant intent for Jim's well being Have supported the Path of forward moving direction that he is on.

The big junction yesterday was a confirmation that he is moving to a rehabilitation hospital. Today.

Movin' on Up!

This is where he will have targeted treatments, therapy, and encouragement to repair and recover. The journey will be full of junctions. Some will be small progressions, but that's okay. That's how he got this far. And, just like his progression of running distances...100 yard sprint...220 yard sprint...5k...10k...starting half- marathons at age 62... he will build stamina and make it personal. I'm expecting that.

I'm expecting this junction in the road is already determined as best for him... So it came into being. With your help. We thank you. I'm expecting that the healing and work to get healed will happen as it should, or faster. I'm expecting the junctions in this path of rehabilitation will lead him to the best results. Still, I am expecting full recovery for him. I have no reason to change my thinking or belief. I expect there is a greater purpose.

And, at the junctions to come that lead to that purpose, I expect to be able to see clearly, what we can not even imagine right now. And, I will not limit that wonder by trying to figure it out.

24 Hours

 What a difference a day makes.

It was a month and three days ago when Jim was the Jim that we knew. The active, running, competitive, funny, thoughtful, vital, geeky Jim. Then... Somebody threw a switch and changed everything. What was... Gone. What was planned...Poof! What's coming... Only God knows. But, the last twenty four hours have been... As Jim is now saying..."Whoa". Honey, you did great! "Whoa". Honey, feel better now that you have a shave?..." Whoa." It's really pretty cute.

So, I am permitted to, so did put on his speech valve, as long as I am there keeping an eye to make sure he is breathing properly. And then, I encourage him to talk to me and explained that he needs to start using his vocal chords. To strengthen them. To change back to what would be normal. To not lose speaking and hopefully singing abilities. Also, to rid himself of the trach and be able to swallow normally. That can domino to bye-bye g-tube. Hello real food. I get excited just writing the words!

Also, gone last night... mittens! Be gone  miniature boxing gloves! Thank you for protecting the tubes you needed to protect, but your time here is kaput. Traded for the mittens... A sitter. Someone in the corner chair to keep an eye, so that he does nothing more than explore and investigate what he knows is not part of his natural body. A sitter all night, all morning and part of the afternoon. About 2:45 PM, the nurse came in to report the sitter order had been lifted. They were not even downgrading to a digital spy.

No mittens. No spies. Freedom to move his hands and arms about the limited world he calls his... For now. He is also responding to many of the commands made of him. Some of that is an understanding, I think, and some... Surrender.

The beauty of all this... He gets to leave after twenty four hour period of behaving on their terms. He will be moved to a rehab hospital where they work with TBI patients, daily. I cannot tell you how happy that makes me. I really cannot.

More excitement... He clearly connected with me today, held me and stated verbatim one intimate phrase that he has said to me many times before," I'm yours." Yes honey, you are. Then another intimate phrase composed of nine... Nine... Words! Clearly said and understood. No, sorry I'm not telling that one. Then about five minutes later, still very connected, "I love you."...Melt.

As if this all is not enough, the left leg moved a fraction. From the hip. To readjust the position. Amazing! The left leg and foot had previously only reacted to reflex stimuli. Which is good, but he moved it. I immediately told the sitter so it could be documented.

What a difference a day makes. Steal your world. Make your world. Twenty four hours. A lifetime.

( After he is moved, situated and somewhat settled, I will list a post office box for greeting cards, atta-boys, and Go-Jim's! for anyone who would like to encourage him directly. I will make sure he gets every single one of them.)

Vertical

 The next time you wake up in the morning, you'll probably roll over...Maybe hit the snooze... And go for 5 more. Or maybe you are like Little Mary Sunshine, as my mom used to brightly sing as she encouraged me to get up in the morning. That didn't make me merry at all. Nevertheless, she would continue that little diddy until I got out of bed.

Jim would typically set 2 or 3 alarms to wake up, just in case he slept through1 or 2 of them, which he has been known to do. Then he would swing those runners legs over the edge of the mattress, feet on the floor, toes already fidgety... head down almost parallel to the floor, arms kind of bracing himself as if the tower could fall at any time. It could take him quite a while to get vertical.

For a while, he would be on autopilot. Brain still deciding. 

Yesterday, the physical therapist came in and said we were going to sit on the edge of the bed like before, and see if he would study himself again. He did. In fact, he made fists and tried to push himself up. So, Tommy, the PT, said okay, we're gonna try to stand! So he belted him for the extra hold, prepared the bear hug, and told Jim,"Ok, Jim. We're going to stand on the count of three!" Up he went. Trying to make things work and get his bearings, face determined, gripping my hand for extra oomph! Tommy held him up... Mostly... For about thirty seconds. Sat him down. You could tell it was exhausting, but within a few seconds, Jim was positioning his fists to push himself back up! So with that, Tommy repeated, "on account of three, Jim... Here we go... One... Two... Three... and up!" Taller that time. His face not squished in Tommy's shoulder, grasping my hand, and using everything he had to go vertical.

Vertical.

Not on his own. Not supporting himself. His one leg partially working. One not. But, vertical.

I hope Jim understands how big that was. How this is a different kind of race he is participating in. How the challenges may be different from ones he has already conquered over the years, but they are still challenges he can meet. I believe he can and will. With God's help, of course. I believe that whatever that factor is that set him apart to begin with will kick in more...everyday.

I need to find a medal for vertical.

Awareness

He saw his daughter. He said hi. Froggy. Raspy. But a voice.

He was brought to the edge of the bed and sat there... without support. His head held higher than usual. Wobbly. Unsure. Determined. 

He accomplished another couple rounds of breathing treatments. Huffing. Puffing. Stressed by the uncontrollable pressure of it. But not as exhausted by it.

Eye contact. Focus in and out, like one of his camera lenses. Choice to look.. or look away. What to focus on. Or not.

Mittens. Because he is so active with his hands, fingers and arms, the medical team prescribed mittens to stay on so he cannot grip the trach. He is aware of the restriction...he hates those things.

The nasal feed tube is gone, so he can't grab that anymore. That was the biggest iritant With its peeling sticky tape and tabs that must have tickled his upper lip just like a gnat. Late night, middle of the night surgery got rid of that tube, and now he has a gastric tube... G tube to supply the protein and water he needs.

The medicines are also administered through the g-tube. You would think it wouldn't be a problem, but he can feel all that pumped into his stomach and fusses and scowls. He always does have a problem taking even vitamin supplements without enough on his stomach. That must feel awful.

His right leg bouncing in the bed with the annoyances. The frustrations.

But...he is aware. He is aware of all this and more. Very hard to watch. But, joyful in that he is aware. His awareness will help launch him forward to go towards the finish lane of recovery.

Medical team input: " no change" 

I guess if you look at all of his vitals, which remain quite stable, and that he does not cooperate with their every request, they might be right. But, they're not. He is aware.

His job right now, his race is to help us. Yes! Be annoyed! Be aware, Jim!

Hi!

He said "hi!"

Froggy, rough voice.

In the words of one of his favorite characters,  " That's all I have to say about that."

Pay it Forward

 Jim's sense of gratitude is in everything he does. Everything he will do. He started this blog out of curiosity, sure, but mostly out of gratitude for the smallest things. Sincere gratitude. Not the store-bought variety with the correct labels, ingredients and political standing. When he prayed over our dinners, they were prayers of gratitude. For the meal. For my time and ability to prepare it. For the wherewithal to have a meal. For another meal together. For another day together. And, he would be so animated in his expressions and voice tones. Because he wanted the Creator to know the depth of his gratitude. He wanted me to know his appreciation. 

Even when things weren't totally roses, he would express gratitude for the better days to come. And, that things were not any more difficult. 

So, I'm expressing gratitude that things are not any more difficult for him right now. That each day brings improvements. That we have a life. Together. That I can be there for him. That we have all of you and your support. 

Sometimes the best way to say thank you, is to do a kindness for someone else. Just because you can. Create more positive energy through even a small act of kindness. Consider of all your blessings, and pay a few forward. You might be surprised at the tidal wave of good that starts. And, who knows what that could bring.

Pace It

 The breathing treatments are necessary and helpful, but tough. So, again, during the treatment, when he loses control to the pumped rythym of the breathing machine, and it's flexible, ribbed hose that connects to the trach, I talk about pacing that last mile. Relaxing when your body wants to tie up. He just ran the Cowtown Half-marathon on February 26th. He's been a runner, a champion sprinter, among other sports, since high school. A little later in life, he pushed himself to do more distance as a way to deal with stress and have some me-time. Genius time, he calls it. He didn't even start half-marathons until he was 62. I had a heck of a time finding my old pom-poms to cheer him on.

This race, he needs to pace, too. He is getting lots of rest. Sometimes he goes to that deep, deep healing place. Other times, I swear he is playing possum. 

Physical Therapy still involves sitting up on the edge of the bed, and trying to sit with as little assistance as possible. 

Jim moved from Trauma Care to Surgical last evening. Different building even. Different everything. They will be putting in a G-tube. ..Gastric tube... so he can get proper nutrition and meds, and they will remove that annoying nasal feed tube he dislikes so much. They are working to get his platelets to an acceptable level and keeping an eye on the hemoglobin. All to be sure he handles that surgery well. If he were able to swallow better, it wouldn't be necessary. I'm hopeful the switch that controls swallowing miraculously repairs itself. Then the G-tube is a non-issue.

I know him. He is tough. Tougher than most think. He makes challenges a part of his lifestyle. He doesn't have fun doing the races, which I found fascinating. He does them because he can. To challenge himself.  Well, he's got a challenge here, for sure. And, he is up to it. He will get in to the rhythm of it. Pace it for the long run.

And, then surprise them all.

Therapy

 It was a physical therapist to determine the source of my back problem over twenty years ago.... In so many ways. I learned a lot about who I was, and what I could do. There's a unique quality to the kind of observance a therapist has, I think. They expect to see progress. Search for it. Figure out how to bring it to the surface and employ you to help. They also consider that the same type of injury does not necessarily impact two people the same way. Physical condition. Tolerance for pain. Attitude and drive. Support system. All effect outcome.

It was another physical therapist who decided Jim should try to sit up. To give him the opportunity to do something other than lie there and be turned every two hours. And, he took that boost...that help...and sat up. Now, you have two things. A therapist asking more for and of you, and a willing patient who becomes motivated to trust and try even more. A cooperative with common goals and forward motion.

How do you know if something is possible if you don't even attempt it? We can get very comfortable where we are. We can become frightened to make a change. To challenge ourselves. We think we know ourselves and our limits. I think, on any given day, we haven't scratched the surface of what we are capable of. Mentally. Physically. Intellectually. Emotionally. I believe we were packaged with incredible abilities that have no limits. Not because we are all that. That's ego. But, because we are a product of the Creator and are connected. Permanently. We have the DNA, if you will. If we don't use it, it's like pulling the plug on the source of all energy, all options, all abundance, and all love. Whatever it is that gets in our way for becoming more is not of the Creator. We are supposed to excel in all things. We can stay plugged in, or we can listen to ego or someone with a damaged connection and allow that to cause us to hesitate or question our heritage.

The Creator is like the best Therapist ever. Giving you the source, the opportunity, the boost, the support to take one more step out of the dull drums...the woe-is-me's...the comfortable...towards Holy Cow!!

Stimulation

 Sometimes, it is hard to know where to start. What was important. Significant. Progress. Stagnant.

Today, that's not an issue. Jim had a really good day yesterday. Resting comes in 5 minute increments. One person after another, probably including me with my news updates and music, disrupts sleep or rest. He needs rest, no doubt, but he needs stimulation, physically and intellectually. We really like when the Physical Therapist comes. She sat him up, feet on the floor again, wiggling toes...on command, by the way! Stick your tongue out...fight, fight, fight. He held on to the rail with the left hand, and supported his weight with the right. He actually tried to stand, with her help, his eyes wide open the entire time. 

He was wide awake and very interactive after. Held hands, hugged. Mouthed words.

10 minutes later, the Speech Therapist. That was exciting. She plugged the trach, and asked for Jim to breathe through his nose. You could see his brain working to make the adjustment. She offered ice by mouth. By mouth! He's an ice chewer, so I'm sure that was a delight. Then teaspoons of water to swallow. He nodded head yes to several questions, did not answer others. She still thought it was a good session. I thought it was great.

He was wide awake and very interactive. Again.

 Then, 10 minutes later, the respiratory Therapist. The breathing treatment is strenuous and causes a lot of coughing. That's a good thing, medically. 15 minutes of 25lbs of pressure being forced in and out at a rapid pace and a very rapid pace alternately. You can see the athlete that Jim is, get in to the rhythm of the pump. During the last, difficult 5 minutes, I usually remind him of that uphill, brick paved street and bridge in the last mile of the Cowtown, and how he has to pace it. Almost done. Finish line!

After the breathing therapy sessions, every 6 hours, he rests. Actually goes to sleep. Like I have seen him do a thousand times. Well...deserved...rest.

Train Crossing

 Train Crossing Guard...Jim got a big kick out of playing honorary crossing guard when the DFW to FW transit train was coming down the rail. If he was lucky enough on his daily run, to be there at the same time as the train, guard arms down, traffic stopped,  with his quirky sense of humor, he would extend an arm as if to stop the already stopped traffic...🙄...and then wave the train through. Often getting a horn toot from the train engineer. Then he would release everyone to go about their day with a howdy-do! Some people got it and had a good laugh...others were perplexed,  maybe to get it later...some just...whatever.  That made it funnier to him. But, if he could give you a smile or make you forget your troubles for a second, that was his goal.  So our train Crossing Guard, Jim, is still in the hospital. Moved from ICU after 18 days to trauma unit the last few days and trying to recover enough to go to rehab and see what he can accomplish. This vital, strong, funny, sweet man. At any given moment, your life can change. So when you see the train, or a bus, or a runner for that matter, give a quick thought to Jim, and send him some good energy and prayers, please. He is trying very hard to recover from TBI ( traumatic brain injury) incurred when he was struck by a vehicle, while on the sidewalk, and running his daily distance.  So think of Jim, aka: onemorenutintheroad.blogspot.com, and try to lighten someone else's day on his behalf.

Imagination

 I have a pretty good imagination. My field is in the arts, so i hope i do. More out of the box than most. Creative. I like to see things the way they can be, might be, could possibly be with the proper encouragement, creative thinking and application. Add effort. Add hard work. Add follow through. Voila.

But, I don't apply my imagination to Jim or his well being. I am not imagining his eye contact, the kind of eye contact. The warmth that shows itself from time to time, that is Jim. The change in arm movements or hand gestures that are so him. The way he makes a fist with his right hand, always his right, and bounces it off the top of his head or forehead. To make a point of retaining some piece of information. That is not trauma. That is Jim. We could be sitting on the sofa,  and up pops that fist. He would get a kick out of me telling him to stop hitting himself in the head. Then switch to his left fist so maybe I couldn't keep up with trying to stop him. Right. Left. Right. From time to time, he is bouncing that fist off his head now.

He is interlocking fingers. As if to concentrate. Kick back. Or pray.

Half smirk. Full smirk.

A couple full face smiles with eye wrinkles.

Glimpses.

He deliberately put his right hand around my back... and deliberately pulled me forward. Lips puckered. Not my imagination. 

He pulled his son to him to hug him. He saw interlocking fingers also.

Yes. There are a lot of movements that are body reactions or impulses.

Does he stay? No. He retreats to wherever that is. If I knew where he was, I would go get him. And keep him here with me.

Medical: Vitals remain stable. Blood sugar good. Oxygen in the upper 90's. Loss of weight and muscle. Still has the feeding tube in his nose to receive the protein, Pivot 1.5. They say his brain won't function well enough to chew or swallow food. Still has the trach that was surgically installed April 15th. Different model now. 

KEYS

 I just listened to Doctor Caroline Leaf, Neuro Scientist, and an enlightened guest talking about the science of prayer. That's actually quite beautiful. The science of prayer. It somehow, addresses the logic I tend to seek in life, along with the deep spiritual connection that is embedded in each of us to access. We come with it. A connection. A direct line of communication to the Creator of all things. We also come with the gifts and promises he made. Something like 8,000 of them stated in his Word. And, prayers are the keys to access what is already promised and provided.

What was interesting in the Leaf conversation was that prayers are often used to tell God what we want. To impose our view on the situation or person. God, I want this job. God, save my wayward son. God, fix this or that. We pray from a self centered perspective rather than to ask God what he wants or how he can use the situation or person to his purpose. And, his purpose is always love. We were created with it. We come with it. We are surrounded with it.

We can get off track so easily. Think about the strategy to corrupt someone or interrupt the God-link. Pretty easy actually. Just cause so much distraction, outrage, division... subtlety, of course... through tiktok... Nightly News... Snip Snap and pop chat... that there is simply no time left to talk to God. The calendar and hours of the day are already so full. There's no additional moment you could add before you drop into bed, only to get up and do the same thing again. Tomorrow. But, that is so backwards.

Do you walk all 3 miles right off the bat, when you've hardly walked one hundred yards purposefully? Do you cook a chef quality meal with no real prep, or do you need some time to study? Do you read "Atlas Shrugged" in one sitting?

15 minutes here and there, with purpose, accomplishes much. Including starting a habit. A good one. Take the access keys out of your pocket and use them. Use them for others. Ask God what to pray for. That we might be more loving, more caring, more gracious.

And, thank you for the keys that you have used, and continue to use, to unlock all the healing, love and strength for Jim and me, too. We are very grateful.

Medical:

There was a doctor Zoom meeting Yesterday. Jim is basically stable, medically. He is on room air now, with added moisture. I see improvements. Doctors do not consider them remarkable. I think I need to pray for the doctors.

Triumph

A lot happened yesterday. Some things, I am keeping to myself. Sorry. Moments just for Jim and me.

But, one event is for everyone to rejoice about. Drumroll....Jim sat up....Jim sat up! Feet flat on the floor, an aide behind him at his back, and Physical Therapist initiating, guiding, and supporting the effort. Can you imagine the joy he must have felt inside, to be upright. Somewhat behind the steering wheel. Looking at the floor or wall instead of the ceiling. Glory! No wonder his eyes popped open for the first time since the move from ICU.

No. He did not follow commands. Again. But, maybe his head was spinning from the abrupt changes in direction. Maybe the wires are still a little crossed. Maybe he was so overwhelmed at what he had just accomplished, that he was busy doing the interior happy dance instead. But, we will work on that today. Asking more of him. Including his cooperation.

As for the rest of yesterday, I played barber. A clean, washed, shaved face has got to be more comfortable. So trying to remember what he has taught me about the proper shave, with the electric razor, I only got a couple of frowns. He did attempt to stretch his upper lip for me. So we will try more today, instead letting the weeds get out of hand.

His eyes open. His focus. His eye contact. His tracking, were all better yesterday. He hardly shut his eyes all afternoon after his breathing therapy and nap. And, they removed his restraints and mittens, hoping he would not take advantage of the freedom and pull something he should not. He still had them off last evening, when I had to leave.

Oh! And, another triumph? Jim still has the Ferrari bed from ICU. My goodness, how things have changed when it comes to defining triumph.

Options

Options. Sounds like a fun word. Chocolate or strawberry? Walk or bike? Car or SUV? Cat or dog? Green dress or cute black one? Stay in the current job...make the move to the start up? Tiffany or Teardrop setting for the engagement ring? These are all kinda fun options. Yet some people get overwhelmed with the small challenges of deciding even the fun stuff. We are required to sift through options and make decisions every....single...day....all...day...year after year.

When Jim writes about his running, he has options. Where to run for that day. What to pick up on that run that is worthy, in his opinion, of the effort to carry it home, and makes interesting and quirky conversation. What items get sorted and kept, and which are for the sake of the grins or the photo and then get moved to the recycle bin with a thank you and adios, as Jim would say.

But, what happens when options are about not so fun stuff. What facility can we go to? What care level is paid for under the insurance plan? Sometimes the options are whittled down without your permission or preference. How can you possibly prepare for all the options and lack of options life brings?

I guess we hope for the best, live the best way we know how, and get the best parachute we can along the way. Even the parachute decision has options.

If we let it, the stress and, in some cases burden of making countess decisions and choices will overtake the joy and privilege of even having options. And, it is a privilege to have options. Even if we didn't see this coming. This weird, unexpected, bizarre, freak of an incident that has stolen Jim's well being...our life...even for awhile. Jim had the option to run. Like every other day. Or to stay in bed. He ran.

Trauma

"A deeply distressing or disturbing experience." That is the nutshell definition. The lengthy explanation involves too many negative words that inflict powerlessness. So, i'm going for the short A to B version.

We left ICU yesterday!! Jim's vital signs and breathing are such that he no longer requires the attention of the ICU. So, now he is in the Trauma Unit. This is care that is one step down from intensive. One nurse per three patients, rather than one nurse per two. ICU has beds like Ferraris. Powered, wired, some form of design, and they even make a whirring sound when moving. Trauma beds are Cadillacs at best. The room is much smaller, more crowded, but room enough for all the care and support he needs. And a few visitors. And all the prayers.

 We were treated with great kindness and concern in ICU. 18 days. And I am most grateful. Jim touched people there. Even in his restricted condition, people saw him and his goodness. He inspired some to want to take better care of themselves, not to sit down when they got home tired from their day, but to walk or maybe run some. To realize that any given day, your life can change.

 I packed the bags, the cards, the photo of him and one token rubber duck for the move. Out the door. I said goodbye to the receptionist who acted tough, but was a softy really. Just protective of the patients and policy. Earlier in the day when I got to ICU, she greeted me with," You're late today!". Getting things ready for him to come home." I responded, " I am hopeful ". Quick as you please, she corrected me. " No. You are prayerful. Speak power over him. That he is healed. Use God's words over him. And remember, that words are powerful, and once they come out, you can not take them back. Stand strong in your faith and God's promises".

When I left ICU, I was able to hug her and receive more of her caring and words gift. Her name is Catrice. She is a God plant.

Miracle

 What constitutes a miracle? A really interesting quetion, actually. I don't think most of us walk around thinking about breathing. Yet we breathe. We see. We hear. We walk. We decide where and when to walk. We decide. Most of us.

Some of us are smarter than others. Is that a miracle, or just playing DNA? How about DNA? What about that woven strand of dots and lines and sequences, it's order and flow. Primate or man? In some cases, up for grabs. Maybe you can dance like Gene Kelly or Michaela Baryshnikov. Maybe not.

It's amazing the tiny factors, that are not so tiny, that we do... Or not do... And don't give a fraction of a second of thought to. Until. Then those factors become a triumph. He opened his eyes. He blinked. He breathed without a ventilator. He used a thumb to scratch his eye or a fist to rub his eyelid, like a child. He wiggled toes. He hears. He tracked me from right to left. He smiled, brief as it was.

Jim's life changed drastically in a fraction of a moment. Our life changed. You can't really prepare for this. There's no rule book. But, when you already have the foundation and belief that most everything is a miracle and a gift, your perspective flows outward. It's focused on gratitude. It's focused on the new set of miracles. Jim survived the incident scene. 1/3 don't. He survived the following twenty four hours. 1/3 of the remaining don't. He is getting past the pneumonia. Another 1/3. Miracles are here. Our recognition of them though is expanded. We hope you can count many miracles in your life. In your day.

Medical: Jim had a good day yesterday. The wonderful nurse released him from his mittens with my supervision. He explored. He scratched and pointed and held hands. Split fingers like the mates we are. His temp is holding about normal. All vitals are really good. Oxygen assist was lowered to 30%, because those powerful lungs of his are doing the job. Because he did the hard work of taking care of himself before, he can draw on that bank now. I'll take all that as miracles. Thank you, Creator of infinite abundance.

John Doe

" If lost, stolen or broken, return to Karen"...and my phone number. It's a wallet sized card with his name on it. Jim Williams. It was laminated. He lost it somewhere on a trip he thought. He would put a business card in his running shorts... for now... And make a new one later.

I can't tell you how many times we laughed about "for now". He knows I dislike that saying. Sure, honey, I'll put it there for now... But for now becomes permanent. There are lots of "for-nows" in places that were not supposed to be. And, some things that didn't get done, even though the intention was there. He meant to laminate a new card and put it in his running shorts, but he didn't. And, whatever card it was, probably a Melaleuca business card, it did not have enough info to know who to call when he did get broken. The Hurst Police Officers were terrific at tracking us down... Eventually. Seven hours later. For 7 hours, Jim was John Doe.

I'm not sure how that fact is going to play into our story once this is all over. But, in some ways, John Doe still exists. For now. It's Jim laying in the bed, but it's not. There are glimpses of him that pop through from time to time, and frustrations that are clearly him. There are lip gestures that I know. Even pouting. The man that Jim is, his Intellect and bright mind, his humor, his athletic abilities, his voice, are altered or not online. For now. He's a rare breed, Jim. He has the brains, athletics , and the looks. He dislikes complicated, but is intrigued by complex. He's a man of his word, sometimes to a fault. A loyal friend with a closet of shirts to give. The relative that doesn't forget your birthday, and has a file of greeting cards to suit every occasion. He still writes notes by hand. He even puts a shiny penny in each, as a symbol of the Creator's infinite abundance. He thinks the efforts are worth it. That you are worth acknowledging. He sends flowers. Just because. A man not to be taken for granted.

He is Jim Williams.. . And will be again. Move over John Doe.

Medical: he is stable. Good BP. Good HR. Oxygen help down to 40%. He's had a couple of transfusions to boost his hemoglobin. One this AM. It's not Melaleuca protein, which he probably doesn't like, but he still has a high protein diet in the feed tube. Temperatures are staying reasonable. Swelling is way down.