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What would you do…..if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?

A little help from my friends……. You know, that is what really keeps me going, and that is what this blog post is all about. A shout out to friends, and family.

When I was sent to Jasper, IN for work, I knew nobody. I was living in Henderson not knowing a soul. I got to know a few people who worked in our Evansville office. They befriended me.

When I was forced to go to Evansville and leave Jasper, as I had to go fix some stuff in that office I already had a friend or two. Tara, bless her wild hearted soul, was great to hang out with, and Jenny Jenny, at the time, one of my new techs working for me was friendly. One of the only techs that was. I had a well deserved reputation as a hard nosed, by the book asshole, and honestly, I was.

As I progressed in that office, I made some real friends. Jenny and her husband Bob, Tara, of course, Raye-Raye and her then husband Damon, and Kim-Bro. By allowing me into their world, I met other great people.

Raye has a great family. Her sisters, (and yea ladies, your all lovely and hot-tot-tot-tot—tot.. Lol) and her niece, Christie. All of these are still lasting friendships to this day. They were all so good to me. My son now has lasting friendships with Christie’s kids, and for that I am doubly thankful.

Jenny as well, let me into her family world. Her mom, Jaye, had worked at TMX, so I knew her, but she became a real friend when her daughter accepted me into their tight, loving group. Her hubby Mike, is a great guy. Hard guy to understand, but i think if I told him right now I needed him to come down here and help me, he would. He’ll, I was honored when I got invited to his bachelor party…. (help me out here, I am pretty certain that was the bachelor party!) We hit golf balls into the Ohio, trying to hit the coal barges as they passed. Mine barely made it into the water, Mike was smacking the balls so far I think they had headaches!

Through Jaye’s clan of kids I got to meet her son and his wife, her other daughter Amy and her hubby, and Ash and Curtis, friends of the clan. They all accepted me. When parties were on I was always invited, when motorcycle rides were on, they made sure I was always aware…. When I had one to many Raye, Jaye or somebody always made sure I had a place to stay and a safe ride there.

Sunday golf outings with Damon were always great, even if Bob always found a way out of going, haha. All the time I spent on the weekends over at Christie and Kim-Bro’s (I spell it that way ’cause I can’t spell his last name, and that is how it is pronounced lol) my kids hanging with their’s…. They were a blessing, as well. I still consider Kim-Bro one of my best friends, and we traveled all over three or four states on our two wheeled adventures.

Also, my lasting and loving friend ship with fellow employee Kristal, flourished while I was at Evansville office. I cherish that friendship, as well.

I am sure I have missed a few names that should have come to mind, and I apologize if I missed someone, I have met so many great people out of my Indiana experiences. See! Angle and her husband, from Jasper office welcomed me into their home for one weekend of great conversation, drinks and good times! Oh, and I cannot forget a crotchety ol’ Texan name of Cary Nelson. That man believed in me, trusted me to do the job for him, gave me more advice and direction on how to manage people and deal with the job…… And he makes one he’ll of a good Texas mesquite smoked brisket!

To tell you about friends….. After being in a coma for two and a half weeks, tubes in me everywhere, keeping me alive, my first real memory is of seeing Jenny, Kim-Bro, and my son. (my “shovel face” memory) I am sure other friends were there, but I can’t remember, I was SOOOOOOOOO hopped up on drugs you would not believe! Also, I want to take a moment to say a thank you to my kiddo’s mother. She came to visit as well, bringing my boy. She took time away from her family and their needs to make sure Tyler was there. She also gave my mother hope, when they thought I might come out of the coma with brain damage, I thank her for that.

Jenny and Bob travelled far to visit me in the hospital, and also at the house,you guys are always welcome, your part of the family now! Ash, you need to know that when you and Jenny came down for that photo shoot, you both were a huge blessing. My Grandmother passed away recently, and those photos are lasting memories of the great matriarch of our family. Those were the last family portraits taken of us all together, as far as I know.

Then there is my friend Shanna, I have known her since we were both fourteen. She is a nurse, and slipped in one night to my room to talk to me after she got off her work shift. Oh, just for a laugh, and so you know, Shanna, my memory of that goes like this, because of the drugs I was on. We were on a desert plain, at night. Stars above our heads as I lay in a bed surrounded by sand. Away in the distance there was a hospital room door standing out of place all by itself on the plain, light leaking in from under the door. Oh trust me, I have lots of screwed up memories! Those coma drugs were he’ll on earth. One day I will write about the real seeming life I lead inside my mind, but I am not ready for that yet.

I have lots of great friends back home. Farrah and JP, Andy and Sarah, my folks, my brother and sister-in-law Kyle and Kim, my brother Wes and all the gang at the VFW. The gang at the V has held fund raisers for me, and some even visited me while I was in recovery from surgery in Louisville. I was surprised as all get out when Brooks and Jerry came stepping into my room, telling me stories to give hope, and just letting me see some familiar faces when I was far from home.

I know I have forgotten to name some names, and I apologize for that, but know I appreciate all my friends and all you have done for me. I hope all of you continue to stick by me as I walk this road fate has given me.

Thank you all!

N

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From my FB notes…repost

The last memory I have of home is playing euchre with my mom, brother and sister in law. I can’t remember anything past that.

The next memory I have is what I call my “shovelface” memory. I remember seeing a few of my friends and my son wearing these pink and white spade shovel shaped pieces of cloth on their face and talking to me. Jenny was there, and Bob. My buddy Kem-bro and my son. the thing I remember at this time as well was that my feet seemed to have been wrapped up in a heavy pair of snow boots, and those boots were COLD! I don’t remember much else.

The next memory I have is again of Bob and Jenny. I remember sitting in a room talking to them and my family, but that is really fuzzy.

My first really lucent memory is sitting up in bed in ICU with my family there. Even my aunt Claudia was there. I remember giving her shit, which is a national pastime of my old man’s, messing with people. I joined in a bit. I remember as well about the same time being in a room all to myself and having my friend Shanna come visit me and stay for a bit and talk. I don’t remember much of the conversation, but I was glad to see her.

After that, things started clearing up and I remember things a bit better. Sort of… See, the meds the used to keep me in a coma like state also make you hallucinate. So, some memories I have I know are not real, but they are memories regardless. I wont go into them here.

After ICU I was moved up to the 4th floor, I think. It was then that I realized the cold boots I was wearing were my feet! They were all kinds of strange colors and swollen.. I could barely feel them. My left hand looked like an aliens claw out of the movies. All of my fingers were covered in a hard, black substance I later learned was my flesh!

Let me back up a minute. The reason my feet and hands were messed up was because of a special medicine they gave me in ICU. See, I was dying. The doctors told my family I would be dead in a matter of hours. The only thing that might save me were these special meds, but they might ruin my extremities. My blood pressure was so low, this was the only thing that might help. See, I had even been given my last rights by a priest. They did not expect me to make it.

So, anyway, here I am on the fourth floor. I’m lying on my back, my feet are in the air, and they hurt like a bitch. The doctors were trying to get feeling and sensation back into my feet. Some doctors, just wanted to go ahead and amputate. My primary Dr., Dr. Kitchens made a valiant effort to save my feet but it just didn’t work.

I spent some time on the fifth floor doing rehab. The rehab didn’t help of a lot then. From there I transferred to Jewish Hospital in Louisville. The best hand surgeon in the nation was there. He took over my care. This Dr. Was the surgeon that did the first hand transplant nearly 10 years ago.

While in Jewish, they ran a whole bunch of tests on my feet and legs. Unfortunately, my feet were not viable. My first week there the surgeon worked on my left hand. He amputated my left index finger and partially amputated all the rest of my fingers on my left hand. I knew that it was going to happen, but I was still shocked when I saw what was left of my hand.

When they unwraps the dressings I cried like a baby. I am surely lucky, though, because he saved my hand enough that I can have prosthetic fingers. The big shock happened when the test results came back for my feet. They were not viable, and they would have to come off.

Because of the way prosthetic legs work they could not just take my feet. They had to take most of my legs below the knee. That way, the prosthetics would fit and work. You have to understand that I was in excruciating pain in my legs and feet. I could not move them, could not touch them, because they hurt so damned bad. When I went for surgery to remove them it was almost a relief.

Of course, nothing goes right for me it seems. After surgery to amputate my blood pressure dropped out. I spent the next three days in ICU. Afterwards, I started rehab. I learned to go to the bathroom again, climb into a wheelchair, and other things most people take for granted. All the while, my right residual limb was hurting horribly. Something was wrong. I had a hematoma in my right leg.

I had to go back to surgery. After three days of recovery from surgery, I went back to rehab. I spent another week in rehab, and for the first time in more than two months I was able to go to the bathroom on a toilet instead of a bed pan.

By now my folks had spent more than two months away from work. We decided to head back home and that I would return to RMC to finish my rehab. I did so well that I was released to go home after only a week.

As of today I have been home at my parents’ house for one week. And I am glad to be home.

I still have a long road to go, but I will make it. After the first of the year I will get fitted for my prosthetic legs, and learn to use them.

I could go into gory detail about everything, but there is no point. I am glad I’m alive, and that is all there is to it.

I have a very good friend I want to thank for help me get through this. Every day she sent me a text, or joke, or just a quick message to let me know someone was thinking about me. Her and her husband drove a long way to visit me often. Thank you guys, for helping me make it through.

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Freedom!

I am writing this blog from the kitchen, where my laptop is, instead of from my room with my iPad. Why is this different from any other day when I could roll on in her in my wheel chair?

It is different because the chair is still in my room by the bed! My mom scrounged around and found me an old set of kneepads last nite. I slid those suckers on, and on the floor I went! I have noted before that my body is used to being in a seated position, so I have problems keeping my back straight. Look at my walking videos on my facebook page and you can see what i am talking about.

So, anyway, last nite I held onto the bed and knee walked around the bed. I repeat… I was walking on my knees! I was stretching out my back as much as possible, and it felt like freedom! Mom and Dad took my arms and helped me walk into the hallway and back.

Here is the awesome thing… With a little help from my wheelchair as a stepping stool, I climbed into my bed from the floor! Now, this morning….

You have to understand my room shares a bathroom with my folks room. I had had my mom bring me coffee this morning, so she knew I was up. I slid on those kneepads, slid down to the floor off the bed and made my wat to that door. On the other side I could hear the noises of my folks getting around and doing their morning. So, I knocked on the door!

Oh, you could hear the surprise in my fathers voice as he asked “Yes?” Then in I came. My mom’s exclamation of surprise and her laughter made it so worth it. I made my way across the bathroom floor and into their bedroom. That room has carpet. I proceeded to catch my knees on the carpet and fall on my ass, but I wasn’t scared about the fall, it was not a big deal.

Then, as is the norm, my body reminded me I had not had my morning constitution. I thought I would try something a little different. My folks bathroom has an older toilet that is kinda low. You guessed it, I made it up onto that bad boy no problem! Had my morning glory and got back down ok, too.

I then made my way to the kitchen. now, time for a reality check here. I did that on hands and knees, as I don’t have the balance or strength to hold myself up, but I made it to the kitchen where my folks were at, once again to their joy. Mom slid a chair close up to my desk, and climb up on my chair I did!

Which, incidentally, brought me here to my blog.

Why name this post freedom?

I am out of that fucking wheelchair!

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First time off my hind end in four months

Wow, let me tell you, the hardest thing I have ever done was standing up on those mechanical legs. They are very advanced, all carbon fiber and titanium laced together in there slightly industrial looking glory.

Sitting in a wheel chair for four months shaped my body into a sitting position. All the PT exercises in the world couldn’t stop that. It is just the laws of nature. When you spend most of your time in a seated position, your muscles and ligaments just get used to the idea. Now I have to teach them otherwise with the new legs. When they finally get here to me via ups, yea, my legs are going to come to me in the mail 🙂 I will have to spend a lot of time wearing them with them propped up, stretching out my knees.

Laying up on the couch, with my feet on my folks coffee table? Oh yea, I can do that. Anybody see my xbox controller? Did I mention my folks have a 50 some odd inch HD tv? Doctors orders, mom.

But, I digress…..

Matt Hayden, my prosthetics guru, (there is an actual name for what he is, but I can neither pronounce it nor spell it, so I just call him my leg guy) spent a lot of time on a weekend away from his family to accommodate my schedule. He let us come up on a Sunday to fit me to my legs. He spent a very late nite adjusting the sockets after we left for to go to the Galt House, the hotel he put us up in.

Ah, the Galt House. I love that place. Last time I was there was for a KPCA training meeting. I went on a pub crawl with a work buddy by the name of Mike Smyth down on fourth street. Do you know how many bars are on that one little stretch of street? Me neither, but man oh man I was hung over the next day!

Oops, doing it again…. Back on track, now, Neil…

So, I walked for the first time in four months on Sunday. It was hard, but felt great. It is so much different than normal walking. The advanced technology of the legs help, as I can feel the ground in my residual limbs (that is the PC way of saying my stumps) but it is nothing like feeling the floor beneath the feet I once had. My muscles were a tad freaked out at this new way of doing things, and it took me a bit to get the rhythm right. Once I did, though, it was easier.

Now don’t think I was just trotting along. These were baby steps with much of my weight being held on my upper body via parallel bars. But, they were still steps.

On Monday we came back in for one final fitting. As I said before, Matt had a late night re shaping my sockets. I had one final trip down the bars, and Matt marked the sockets for the final, finished set.

Afterwards, I took a tour of the shop area, where my legs would be made, and met the two guys that would be doing the work, Tommy and Mike. ( I think Mike is his name, me and my memory!)

I found out very quickly that Mike is a motorcycle guy, and we had a twenty minute conversation about bikes and riding. What I am called is a bi lateral below knee amputee, but I could tell right off the bat that I wasn’t an amputee to this guy. I was a regular old Joe that just happened to be missing some parts. Oh, man. That was great! That was the first real regular conversation I had outside of family that didn’t revolve around my condition, or any pity.

We left soon after, my dad pacing in the hall outside the door, not wanting to interior, but finally letting me know he was ready to get home. So, out to the car we went, and home we came.

Now, I will sit and wait in anticipation of that big brown truck, and the package with my hope inside.

C’mon ups guy, hurry up!