This is the third installment of the story of Dave's miraculous recovery from a traumatic brain injury he sustained in July 2005.
1st installment - About Dave's Brain Injury
2nd installment - The Electrical Current
During the first few days at Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital, Dave went through an extensive evaluation by a team of doctors and therapists. They then met with me to go over the results. The news was not good. They estimated that Dave would be at Madonna for at least six weeks and then, because of the severity of his impairments, he might have to go to a long-term care facility. If he did go home, I would have to make major accommodations around the house.
My sister Mary, a long-time special ed teacher, started checking into the possibility of taking a year off so she could work one-on-one with Dave. "He was THAT bad," she remembers.
No matter the evaluation...no matter how bad Dave was, I held on to my firm belief that he would be okay.
This belief was supported by the ongoing prayers happening around the world. One especially powerful experience happened when a family friend who is a priest stopped by Madonna when he was traveling through Lincoln. Dave was sleeping when this sweet man went in to see him. He walked over to Dave's bed and gently laid his hand on Dave's head. He then bowed his head and prayed. You could feel the power of that prayer in the room.
The continual prayers - along with Dave's fierce determination - started making a difference. One late night, I watched as Dave sat up in his "net bed." This tent-like structure was designed to keep Dave secured in his bed so he couldn't get out and fall. It could only be opened from the outside via a zipper. I was fascinated as I watched Dave's eyes dart from one corner of the bed to the other. He then raised his good arm and felt around the perimeter of the tent. He continued this examination for at least two hours. Then I heard the sound of a zipper. He figured out how to open it! Underneath that expressionless face and damaged brain, Dave's problem-solving skills were still intact. From that moment on, Dave's nickname at Madonna was "Houdini." They could not keep him in any kind of restraint.
A day or two later, another amazing thing happened. Dave "woke up!" It was like a scene out of a Lifetime movie. His eyes suddenly lit up. He looked around and said "where am I?" He was uttering real words instead of the gibberish that would come out when he tried to talk. And he seemed to recognize us. I called family members to give them the wonderful news. Even though it was late evening, Dave's brother Bill drove from Grand Island so he could witness this transformation. We all laughed hysterically as Bill - the only democrat in a family of staunch republicans - said to his brother, "Oh, by the way, Dave, you're a democrat and you owe me $5,000."
Dave was now talking and was more aware, but was still dealing with severe impairments. Because of significant memory loss, he has to relearn basic life skills such as how to shower, shave, and brush his teeth. He totally lost the connection between object and word. For example, you could point to a picture of a tree and ask what it was. He knew it was a tree, but he could not find the word. I made "flash cards" with photos of all family members and their names. His therapists used the cards to help him relearn those names. For weeks after his accident, he called me "ol' what's her name."
The therapists at Madonna worked Dave hard. They forced him to use his right arm and leg and he was quickly regaining strength. Their efforts were supplemented by amazing family support from near and far. Dave's brother Jerry was at Madonna almost every day - always at Dave's side. Dave's sister Colleen came from Colorado to help provide support for Dave, me, and our girls. I nicknamed her "Hazel" because she kept up the house and paid the bills. Dave's sister Patt and her husband Terry brought a homemade meal to Madonna almost every night. My sisters, Mary and Colleen, and my brother Kevin, also provided constant support. What was most gratifying was seeing how this experience brought Dave closer to his girls. They saw a softer, sweeter side of a dad who was often stern during their growing-up years. I remember Keeley exclaiming, "I think the fall knocked the grump out of dad!"
There was also a steady stream of visitors and that seemed to buoy Dave's spirits - especially when his National Guard buddies would come by.
The theme of Dave's recovery became Faith, Family and Friends. It made for a powerful combination.
Through all of this effort, Dave soon graduated out of the wheelchair. He had regained almost full strength of his right side. While he still had a long way to go, he could walk, he could talk, and he could perform basic life skills. His doctors and therapists were amazed. My ongoing mantra was coming true - Dave was going to be okay.
Remember that prognosis of six weeks at Madonna and then possibly moving to the long-term care facility? Two-and-a-half weeks after Dave was admitted to Madonna, he walked out of the facility and I took him home. It was a wonderful day.
Up next: "Dave...what are you doing here?"
1st installment - About Dave's Brain Injury
2nd installment - The Electrical Current
During the first few days at Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital, Dave went through an extensive evaluation by a team of doctors and therapists. They then met with me to go over the results. The news was not good. They estimated that Dave would be at Madonna for at least six weeks and then, because of the severity of his impairments, he might have to go to a long-term care facility. If he did go home, I would have to make major accommodations around the house.
My sister Mary, a long-time special ed teacher, started checking into the possibility of taking a year off so she could work one-on-one with Dave. "He was THAT bad," she remembers.
No matter the evaluation...no matter how bad Dave was, I held on to my firm belief that he would be okay.
This belief was supported by the ongoing prayers happening around the world. One especially powerful experience happened when a family friend who is a priest stopped by Madonna when he was traveling through Lincoln. Dave was sleeping when this sweet man went in to see him. He walked over to Dave's bed and gently laid his hand on Dave's head. He then bowed his head and prayed. You could feel the power of that prayer in the room.
The continual prayers - along with Dave's fierce determination - started making a difference. One late night, I watched as Dave sat up in his "net bed." This tent-like structure was designed to keep Dave secured in his bed so he couldn't get out and fall. It could only be opened from the outside via a zipper. I was fascinated as I watched Dave's eyes dart from one corner of the bed to the other. He then raised his good arm and felt around the perimeter of the tent. He continued this examination for at least two hours. Then I heard the sound of a zipper. He figured out how to open it! Underneath that expressionless face and damaged brain, Dave's problem-solving skills were still intact. From that moment on, Dave's nickname at Madonna was "Houdini." They could not keep him in any kind of restraint.
A day or two later, another amazing thing happened. Dave "woke up!" It was like a scene out of a Lifetime movie. His eyes suddenly lit up. He looked around and said "where am I?" He was uttering real words instead of the gibberish that would come out when he tried to talk. And he seemed to recognize us. I called family members to give them the wonderful news. Even though it was late evening, Dave's brother Bill drove from Grand Island so he could witness this transformation. We all laughed hysterically as Bill - the only democrat in a family of staunch republicans - said to his brother, "Oh, by the way, Dave, you're a democrat and you owe me $5,000."
Dave was now talking and was more aware, but was still dealing with severe impairments. Because of significant memory loss, he has to relearn basic life skills such as how to shower, shave, and brush his teeth. He totally lost the connection between object and word. For example, you could point to a picture of a tree and ask what it was. He knew it was a tree, but he could not find the word. I made "flash cards" with photos of all family members and their names. His therapists used the cards to help him relearn those names. For weeks after his accident, he called me "ol' what's her name."
The therapists at Madonna worked Dave hard. They forced him to use his right arm and leg and he was quickly regaining strength. Their efforts were supplemented by amazing family support from near and far. Dave's brother Jerry was at Madonna almost every day - always at Dave's side. Dave's sister Colleen came from Colorado to help provide support for Dave, me, and our girls. I nicknamed her "Hazel" because she kept up the house and paid the bills. Dave's sister Patt and her husband Terry brought a homemade meal to Madonna almost every night. My sisters, Mary and Colleen, and my brother Kevin, also provided constant support. What was most gratifying was seeing how this experience brought Dave closer to his girls. They saw a softer, sweeter side of a dad who was often stern during their growing-up years. I remember Keeley exclaiming, "I think the fall knocked the grump out of dad!"
There was also a steady stream of visitors and that seemed to buoy Dave's spirits - especially when his National Guard buddies would come by.
The theme of Dave's recovery became Faith, Family and Friends. It made for a powerful combination.
Through all of this effort, Dave soon graduated out of the wheelchair. He had regained almost full strength of his right side. While he still had a long way to go, he could walk, he could talk, and he could perform basic life skills. His doctors and therapists were amazed. My ongoing mantra was coming true - Dave was going to be okay.
Remember that prognosis of six weeks at Madonna and then possibly moving to the long-term care facility? Two-and-a-half weeks after Dave was admitted to Madonna, he walked out of the facility and I took him home. It was a wonderful day.
Up next: "Dave...what are you doing here?"