Monthly Archives: February 2012

Today you have extra time… what are you going to do with it? 

That is not pressure or guilt, that is an invitation to go through this day (and every day) being aware of the precious gift that time is.

Time = the unit of measure we use to document our lives by. Everyone gets the same amount each cycle the sun and moon go through, but we don’t know how many cycles we each have.

Though it feels like we are getting extra time today, we really aren’t. But today we use a unit of  measure (leap year) that we only use every four years, which keeps our calendars in sync with the cycles of the sun and moon. (I’m so glad there are people much smarter than me that figure that stuff out) 

Since almost dying in an accident, I’ve been fascinated with time and have started collecting clocks. Above is some of my collection.

After realizing that I almost ran out of time, I began to value it more. I want to savor the time that I pass through. I didn’t want to drift through it unawares, rush through it franticly or be anxious about time as it passes.

Time will pass, the next month/year will come… yet each month/year how many times do we say or hear, “I can’t believe it is (insert month/year) already!”

My aim (not always successful) is to live each day well. I find when I do that, I appreciate it more and I’m not sad as time passes, because I’ve made the most of it.

Living well does not mean cramming everything possible into my day… that would be abusing the time I have. Living well means being aware of what makes life meaningful to me and then pursuing that.

• Taking care of myself… my body, mind and spirit
• Being kind to myself
• Being kind to family and friends
• Being kind to strangers

We are each unique and what makes life meaningful for me will probably be different than what makes life meaningful for you. I had to learn to know me.

And then I had to learn how to be kind to myself. 

Being kind to myself means realizing that while I love people and I get energy when I’m with people, I also love/need time alone.

Being kind to myself means that with the beat-up body I have, now and in future years, I will thank myself if I take care of it. Which requires that I pay attention to what I feed my body and how I take care of it.

Being kind to myself means that I’m willing to take risks, to push myself a little, to reach for the stars… because I realize those are the times when I feel truly alive.

Today you have extra time.. what are you going to do with it? 

No pressure to do more or get more done. Instead take some time to be still, to mediate, to be kind to yourself and to think about how you handle this precious gift of time you have.

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I’d love to hear your thoughts about time and what this leap-day means to you.

Also, being kind to yourself means… ?

Every Tuesday and Thursday, I’m posting excerpts from Because I Can.
This is from Chapter 6: Flying Home

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Our landing was uneventful and after a reverse transfer I was back in my wheelchair and ready to face Pennsylvania. I was hit with a rush of humid, warm summer air as Jerry wheeled me up the skyway. I liked the familiar feel. Then my heart skipped a beat as I caught a glimpse of my boys waiting at the end of the corridor. I wanted to get up and run to them! I wished Jerry would wheel me faster. Finally we reached them.

Hugs while in a wheelchair are clumsy at best and even worse when trying to hug three people at once.

After a few rounds of hugs, we moved through the airport to the van my parents had waiting for us. Another strapping in process that I didn’t like. At least in this van, the passenger seat was missing to make a spot for my wheelchair, so I was up front, rather than in the back.

It was a two-hour drive home. The first half hour wasn’t too bad, but after that, my pain reached a torturous level. In the airplane, I reclined all the time, but my wheelchair didn’t recline, so I was sitting upright. This put pressure on both my pelvis and leg wounds.

One pleasant diversion during the ride was a delicious egg salad wrap from Cafe 110. A friend had thoughtfully provided a cooler full of food and sent it with my parents for us. The cafe’s food is always good, but that day the egg salad wrap tasted like heaven. I think that memory is so vivid because it was a positive thing in the middle of too much pain.

As we got closer to our hometown of Morgantown, I heard Jerry and my mom in the seat behind me making a phone call or two and talking in whispers. I assumed they were relaying information about how I was doing.

As we drove through the toll booth of the turnpike at our exit, I saw a police car with the lights on sitting beside the ramp we’d take. I wondered if there was a problem on the road below. I was confused as my dad pulled our van up behind the officer’s car and got out to talk to him. “What is he doing?” I wondered why he felt the need to talk with an officer when I wanted to find a bed.

My mom said, “He’s checking to see if we can go through town now?”

“What?” I was confused. “Why do we need permission to drive through Morgantown? Is something wrong?”

“It’s okay,” Jerry said. “We need to make sure they’re ready.”

As I turned to question him, I saw they all had big smiles. That was my first glimpse into the surprise planned for me. 

With the police car escort, complete with lights and sirens, and the traffic stopped in both directions, we drove down Main Street in Morgantown. I was surprised to see family, friends and people from the community line both sides of the street. Slowly my drug-induced brain comprehended that this was a parade. For me.

Welcome Home Parade — Morgantown, PA

A parade for me!

I’m an extrovert and I get energy from people, so I forgot about my pain and discomfort as I absorbed the moment. Within a few seconds, I was doing the best parade-wave I could. I couldn’t believe the hundreds of people I was seeing. I was able to say hi to some, smile at most, shake hands with a few and wave to all.

I grew up in Morgantown and except for a year in my twenties, I lived there thirty-eight years of my life. Plus, Jerry and I had our garden center in Morgantown for years, so I knew many people in the community. People that I knew well, people I didn’t know well and some I had only meet once or twice, all came out to welcome me home.

I would have loved to drive back and forth on Main Street all night seeing and reconnecting with everyone. I didn’t want it to end. But I needed to get out of that wheelchair and into a bed, so we finished our slow drive down main street and then drove to our temporary apartment.

Friends put together a video of the parade… 

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Have you ever been surprised at the love and support of your family, friends and/or community?

Here’s a picture recap of my Disney Princess Half-Marathon Experience. A written post or two will follow in the next few days.

The Princess Half was my 4th half in the past 10 months, my body feels great so I’m thinking about doing a full marathon in May. (yikes!)

Arriving at the Princess Half-Marathon Expo at ESPN Wide World of Sports

The day before the race, my friends and I went to the expo to pick up our race numbers and to check out all the latest and greatest running gear.

Cool earrings I got at the Princess Half Expo

I’ve been looking for runner earrings and was thrilled to find these!

3:30 freakin' AM - Ready for the Princess Half-marathon at Disney.... a group of fun, feisty women to run with! Rose, Betty, Deborah, Bev, Tabatha and Kim

The race is run before the Disney parks open, so it starts at 5:45AM And the inefficient way they organize the race start requires runners to be on the shuttle buses at the hotel at 4AM.

Waiting, walking, waiting, walking... to the Princess Half-Marathon start

For those of you who have never seen 4AM… this is what it looks like: No sun. It’s dark.

My friend Deb and I

It’s because of Deb that we all did this race. She has cool story that I’m going to share with you in the next week or so. It was her first half-marathon and she did great. Deb wears pink tutus… I do not, but I love her anyhow!

Finally! The starting line of the Princess Half-Marathon

Over three hours after we woke up, we finally approached the starting line. The standing and waiting before the race caused my leg to hurt and swell, but after a slow start of walking, then a slow jog and finally running, it felt better and I soon settled into a comfortable routine of running 3 minutes and walking 1 minute.

The Castle in the Magic Kingdom at about mile 6 of the Princess Half

I didn’t stop to take pictures with the Disney characters along the way, but I did pause to take a picture of the castle before I ran through it.

Finished! The Princess-Half Marathon at Walt Disney in Orlando, FL

Finished!
I run slightly slower than my normal pace because I wanted to enjoy the race and it worked perfectly… I felt great! The miles flew by and before I knew it … I was finished! And I now have a tiara (the medal) even though I usually make fun of them, I’m thrilled to have this one.

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Have you ever done a Disney Run? What did you think of it?

It’s a beautiful day for me at my current neighborhood in Kissimmee, Florida.
And a beautiful day for you… check out the sharing-the-fun gift at the end of this post!

I’m enjoying a few days of relaxing before doing a half-marathon at Disney on Sunday. I’m at my friend Bev’s house! (She’s the Bev in Because I Can) On Wednesday morning, I left PA with Bev and her 8-year old son. Hours later we met up with a Virginia friend, Janelle and her 8-year old son. We drove until almost 9 that evening before stopping in Georgia for the night. My legs were in dire need of some moving, so I jumped in the pool and swam a few laps before going to bed.

On Thursday, we completed the drive from Savannah to Kissimmee with a stop at the Orlando airport to pick up another friend, Deborah, who is also running Disney on Sunday.

I have three sons (ages 19, 21 and 23) and it’s been a while since they were 8, so I worried wondered how traveling with two little guys would be. No need to worry about these guys—they are champion travelers!

Bennet and Micah

The only hitch so far was when I was watching them at the pool in the morning before we hit the road again. They almost gave me a heart attack. I was on the lounge chair watching them swim, float and be silly. Suddenly I was off the chair, my shoes were off and I was poolside. The one guy was drowning… or pretending to drown… or he was drowning… or pretending…

For a few seconds, I couldn’t figure out which it was and he wasn’t helping by bobbing up and down, saying help… but then smiling before he disappeared under again. After an hour, a few seconds, he swam to the side… and all was well, except for my racing heart.

But they are both so darn cute, I couldn’t even be mad at them. They are just too full of energy and I love seeing them have fun. But I did remind them about The Boy Who Cried Wolf… my heart has already survived a major trauma, it has no need for any more scares.

Today is about relaxing and going for a walk to stretch our legs to keep them limber for Sunday. Then an afternoon airport run to pick up four more friends coming in to run Disney also. After that we’ll go to the race Expo to check it out and pick up our race numbers.

Saturday involves more relaxing in the morning… then meeting up with other bloggers/runners at the Princess Blogger Meet-up at 3pm. (I’m giving away two paperback copies of Because I Can there!)

Then Sunday at freaking early o’clock I (along with 7 friends and about 19,993 friends I haven’t met yet) will do a half-marathon. (The race starts at 5:45 so we have to be up by 3 to get to the start line on time)

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Since I’m having all this fun, I want to share it with everyone. Come join the party!
(Okay, not really… Bev would kill me if I try to fit more people into her house)

So here’s my sharing-the-fun gift for you… all the e-versions of Because I Can are on sale!

Because I Can is only $2.99 on Kindle, Nook and iPad!

Click the links above to go to Kindle or Nook.
For iPad—go to iTunes and search for Because I Can, Janet Oberholtzer

If you don’t have an e-reader, get a Kindle app for your computer and/or smart phone free.
Yes, free! Then you can buy the Kindle version and read it on your computer or phone.

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I’m going to try and live-blog this weekend as much as possible, plus I’ll be posting pictures on Facebook on my page and on the Because I Can page. (If we aren’t FB friends, send me a request and/or like the Because I Can FB page)

I’m off to have a great Friday… hope you do to!

There’s an interesting story circulating online. It’s about how 1,100 people hurried past a man playing Bach on a violin in a 45-minute period during rush hour in Washington DC’s metro station. A few mothers pulled curious, dawdling children along.  A few thrust money at him and continued to walk.  A few stopped for a minute or two, looked at their watches, and continued to hurry on.

The “surprise” was that the man turned out to be the world famous violinist, Joshua Bell, whose concert a few nights before had cost an average of $100 a seat. The writer challenges the readers to question the fact that if we don’t recognize a famous violinist  playing some of the best music ever… what else are we missing? 

Joshua Bell at the subway station

Reading the story reminded me of Joni Mitchell’s song “Real Good for Free”. It’s about a clarinet player on a New York City street. “Nobody stopped to hear him, though he played so sweet and high. They knew he had never been on their TV, so they passed his music by”,  she laments. She sings on about how she meant to go ask for a song or even harmonize with the musician, but the light changed, so she too went on her way.

Next, I remembered another e-mail. It was an item in one of those laugh-a-minute type lists. It described a man placing a furniture item outside along with a sign that read “free”.  A  week went by and there were no takers. He changed the sign to read “$25. Inquire within”.  It promptly got stolen.

The story, the song, and the “hoot” item all point to the sad fact that we as a society seem to add more value to things that have a recognizable name, a high price tag, or in the case of the used furniture, any price tag. We seem to think that if something is free or unknown, it can’t be good.

People who make high salaries command respect, regardless of how that money is attained. We worship celebrities in spite of knowing about their dubious life choices. It shows that we have a distorted sense of what is beautiful or worthwhile, who or what deserves our time and attention, admiration or respect. I remember once reading a newspaper article that reported interviews with school-aged children, who confessed that the reason they didn’t respect their teachers was partially because they didn’t make as much as their parents! It’s sad if we pass these lessons on to our children.

And how much of this emphasis on prestige is contributing to our stress, causing us to be so rushed we don’t see the things around us? 

Surely we stop and think when we read the metro story and hear songs like “Real Good for Free”,  but how much are we in a position to change? Most of us have jobs, having to report in at definite times. We arrive at the workplace, and are expected to accomplish a list of tasks within a given amount of time. There are deadlines to meet; the clock is ticking. People simply don’t have the luxury of stopping to smell the proverbial roses. Anyone who looks through classified ads sees ad after ad that includes “fast-paced”  in the job description. Try finding one that is not “fast-paced”!

Would the outcome have been any different had the rush hour crowd realized they were hearing a world famous violinist? Would they have risked missing their trains and being late for work? In either case, how understanding would their bosses be had they missed their trains, come in late, and said “Oh, sorry (boss) . This guy was playing awesome music in the train station and I just had to stop and listen”. Would the violinist’s status, world famous or an amateur, made a difference in the boss’s attitude about the late employee?

Unless we look for ways to minimize the pressures, some imposed from outside, some self imposed, we are forced to keep running at an insane pace in the proverbial rat race. We will continue to miss beautiful music, art, dawns, sunsets, flowers, and at the other end, people in need, while rushing to do what we have to do to maintain a “good life”… whatever that means.

I suppose when an experiment like this (I am assuming the Metro scenario was an experiment), sheds some light on how we have been spending so much time rushing, passing beautiful things by, we have to ask ourselves if the things we are pursuing are really making us happy, and revisit the question….how much are we missing?

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Susan Ford

Susan is retired and enjoys spending time with her six adult kids, her grandkids and friends. Her hobbies include reading, Bible studies and a little gardening. Before and after raising her children, Susan worked with mentally disabled adults, as a substitute teacher, Therapeutic support person and did some clerical work.

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Thanks for the post, Susan. I’ve learned a lot about slowing down and appreciating life, but I know I have so much more to learn. And reading this now is perfect, because it’s helping me remember to savor the moments and the sights as I travel.

Your turn: I’d love to hear tips about how others have learned to pause and appreciate things in life for their own beauty, not because someone says they are valuable or worth more.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, I’m posting excerpts from Because I Can.
This is from Chapter 5: Questions

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How many days can one wear only a blue-with-gray or a gray-with-blue hospital gown?

I was tired of my limited clothing choices. I asked about wearing my own clothes again. The therapist said it would be hard to maneuver my legs into pants or shorts, but I might be able to wear them soon.

I took that for a yes and asked Jerry where my clothes were.

That’s when I heard the story of Jerry and my dad going to the wrecked motorhome to collect our things during the first week after the accident. My condition was still unpredictable then and Jerry couldn’t focus on the task. They only got the boys’ clothes and a few other items.

When I realized my clothes were still in the motorhome, I began asking about other things. The schoolbooks. My books. My journal. Jerry also realized how many things he didn’t get.

After a few calls, Jerry located the motorhome at a junkyard. He was thankful that his brother and my brother-in-law were visiting at the time and could help collect our belongings. When they finished collecting our books, supplies, tools, games and lawn chairs they had two pallets full of boxes, along with our bikes. They stacked everything in a storage unit until it could be transferred to Pennsylvania.

When they came back to the hospital, I was disappointed to hear that some of the drawers that held my clothes were jammed and couldn’t be opened. I tried to avoid the rest of the conversations about the condition of the motorhome. But I overheard one of them say that other than the front passenger corner, you wouldn’t know that it was wrecked — the rest of it looked okay.

Looks okay? What the…! How can any of it be okay when none of me is okay?!

That evening it was time for our visiting family’s cross-country flight back home. I was worried about both their long flight and Jerry driving to the airport and back. After they left, I tried to pray. In reality, I spent most of the time trying to remember all the statistics that say flying is safe.

It took Jerry about two hours to do the airport run. I called a few times (okay, often) and he could tell I needed him, so even though it was after 10PM he stopped at the hospital before he went to his house. He sat on the edge of the bed and held me (as much as that was possible) until I calmed down and was able to sleep.

Being paranoid, wondering about brain damage, missing normalcy and concerns for the future occupied my mind more frequently. I had another reduction in meds, which meant I had more mental clarity. Some nights, after Jerry left the hospital, exhaustion won and I slept. But other times, the whirl of activity in my mind overwhelmed me as I was forced to look at my new reality.

In vain I tried to wrap my brain around the changes that happened.

For the previous six months, I told Jerry to point the motorhome in a new direction each week. Now I was forced to stay in the same place day after day. I went from sleeping late most days, to being awakened by a voice at 5AM saying, “Hi, I’m from the blood lab and I’m here to draw blood.”

Instead of trying different types of food from a new neighborhood each week, I had cans of Boost the hospital’s caring dietitian gave me because she was concerned I wasn’t eating enough. I went from running and skiing to transferring my body with my hands. I’d been living in less than three hundred square feet with my boys, now I was three thousand miles away from them. I went from thanking God to having questions for God.

That is — if God was even real. Old doubts and questions resurfaced. Religion and God had been a part of life from the day I was born, but not always in a good way. As a child I was scared of God, due to my stern ruled-based upbringing in a strict traditional Mennonite home with many rules—only certain clothes could be worn, no jewelry, no radio and no TV. While some of this simplified way of life was good, too much of it focused on following rules.

All those rules didn’t work for me, an inquisitive child that constantly asked “why?” 

I rebelled during my teen years when my questions became actions and I pushed the boundaries. I not only rebelled against the rules of my parents and their church, but also against God. Some portions of the Bible talked about God being love, but I only saw him as harsh and judgmental. So this conflict caused me to wonder if God really existed … and if he did, what was he like?

So as I lay in the hospital trying to grasp my new reality, some of my old questions about God existing (or not) came back.

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A day or two later as I slept after being discouraged from an exhausting medial procedure… Jerry remembered my wish for something other than the fashionable hospital gowns to wear and he took this time to go shopping. (Smart man)

Real clothes! About 5 weeks post-accident

I woke up to see sport shorts and a tee shirt on the chair beside my bed. It was an odd touch of normalcy—shorts and tees were familiar, but Jerry buying them for me was not. Jerry’s plan worked, it cheered me up to see them. I was almost giddy as I began changing into them, but it was more of a challenge than I thought it would be. Jerry had to help me maneuver my legs into the shorts, but it felt good to wear something other than a gown.

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What is the longest that you’ve had to wear the same clothes? 
Have you every questioned whether or not God is real? 

Every Tuesday and Thursday, I’m posting excerpts from Because I Can.
This is from Chapter 4: Paranoid and Anxious

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Thankfully, I had a reduction in meds and some information that was a blur before started to find a home. One day when the door of my room opened, I was happy to see a familiar face. “Dr. Tran.” I recognized the surgeon who preformed the 10-hour limb-saving surgery on my left calf. I’d seen him a few times since surgery when he came in to check my progress.

“Hi Janet, you’re awake today. Good. It’s time to change your dressing again,” he said. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

“What time will I go to the OR?” I asked, knowing that his previous dressing changes were done there and thinking about my new best friend—the black mask.

“No OR this time. We’ll do it right here,” He responded.

My small room suddenly felt even smaller and the walls threatened to fall on me. I didn’t have a clear idea about the size or the look of my wound, but I knew enough by conversations I overheard and the large dressing that it was huge, always bleeding and would not be pleasant looking.

As politely as I could in my apprehensive state of mind, I asked him to please take me to the OR to do it.

“You’ll be fine,” He reassured me. “We’ll give you extra painkillers through IV and a sedative to relax you.”

“It’s not just the pain I’m worried about. I don’t want to see the wound on my leg.” I told him. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

Dr. Tran, an excellent surgeon and forthright gentleman from Vietnam, informed me, “It’s your leg. You have to see it sometime. It’s reality. Why not now?”

I respected him as a surgeon, but not as a gentle counselor and I had no desire to see any part of that wound with the dressing off. When Chaplain Margery came in later, she found me in tears. She prayed for me and promised to come back in the morning before the procedure.

It was a long night and yet it wasn’t long enough. I didn’t want morning to come. It meant facing a reality I had been trying to avoid.

Morning came. And with it the dreaded procedure. A few nurses bustled in and out of the room making sure they had the ton of fresh dressing materials that were needed. Seeing all the supplies made me shudder. I want a black mask!

Thankfully my nurse came in before Dr. Tran and gave me the meds. Oh beautiful meds, I love you!

The pillow fortress was put in place a second after this picture was taken

Jerry agreed with me that I shouldn’t look at the wound. I lowered my bed so I was lying flat and he securely planted a big pillow across my upper body. I tried to relax and think of other things, which was impossible, but I tried.

When Dr. Tran came in, he chuckled at my pillow, “Guess you were serious. You really don’t want to see it.”

“That’s right.” I said from behind my pillow fortress.

Jerry stood next to me holding my hand and cautiously watched the process. Watching his face cycle through concern, shock and distress as the dressings came off, I knew that pillow wasn’t going to be moved an inch.

Dr. Tran pointed out areas of the wound to Jerry. “See, here is the muscle we took from her back. This is the skin from her thigh, here is the ….” That conversation wasn’t working for me and I tried to block it out.

When he was finished, I was exhausted from the process and the additional meds. I promptly fell asleep and slept for hours. My room was empty when I woke up. I had a nauseous feeling of dread. I felt like I was slipping into that dark unknown hole I had been avoiding. I shuddered as I remembered Jerry’s face. That wound must be nasty!

Between the two of us, Jerry is more of a nurse than I am. I don’t faint when I see blood, but I don’t like it either. When our boys were little, they knew to go to ‘Dr. Jerry’ when they got hurt. He would gently clean and bandage their injuries.

So I knew by the look on his face that wound was beyond anything he’d seen before or even imagined. I peeped into that dark hole. What if it doesn’t heal? What if I can’t walk?!

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Every Tuesday and Thursday, I’m posting excerpts from Because I Can.
This is from Chapter 3: Waking Up 

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 Jerry came in as I talked with the nurse. “Good morning sweetie,” he said with a big smile.

“Hi. Why are you so happy?”  I wondered.

He seemed surprised at my question,
“Because you’re doing so well. You’re awake and talking.”

First day out of my hospital bed – Henry Mayo Hospital – Valencia, CA

This baffled me. “I’ve been talking since I was two. Why is that a big deal?”

“I missed hearing you talk when you were out of it.” He kissed my cheek.

“Out of it? What do you mean?” I knew I slept all the time, but I didn’t know what he meant by out of it.

“You’ve been out of it since the accident—almost two weeks,” he said.

“ Two weeks? Are you sure?” I looked at the nurse, thinking she’d correct him.

She nodded, “Yes, it’s been that long since your accident.”

“And you’ve been out of it ever since,” Jerry said.

“Out of it,” I repeated. “Why? Why didn’t I wake up before?”

The nurse finished her work and gave Jerry advice on her way out. “She’s awake enough now. You can answer her questions.”

I didn’t understand why she said that to him, but I ignored it and went back to my question. “Why was I out of it for so long?”

“You didn’t wake up before because they had to keep you in a medical coma,” he began.

“Why didn’t they want me awake?” I interrupted. It felt like I was held against my will. 

“So your body could handle the trauma and all the injuries. But you’re getting better. You’re awake and talking,” he smiled again.

“So I was out of it for a long time?” I repeated that confusing thought like a toddler would do.

Yes, you were. And I was so scared when they didn’t know if you would live.”

“What? Not live?” My brain whirled.

“Yes, you almost died and …” he realized this was news to me. “But you didn’t and you’re doing so much better now.”

“Died?” I was baffled. “I almost died? Are you sure?”

He nodded slowly, realizing he might have given me more information than I was ready for. He switched back to happy thoughts. “But now you’re improving and doing better.”

To find out I almost died was so foreign I didn’t know what to do with it. It felt like we were talking about someone else. My brain was sluggish, so I had a hard time following, much less believing, what he said. But I needed to know. I forced my fuzzy thoughts into words, “Why did I almost die? What happened?”

He studied me a little.

“What happened?” I repeated.

“We were in an accident with five trucks and you have many injuries,” he pointed to my legs, “and you lost blood—almost too much blood.”

“Why did I lose so much blood?”

“From all your injuries—your pelvis is shattered, your left leg has two big injuries and they had to put a rod in your right femur and …”

I stopped listening and wanted to scream, I have all those injuries—what? And what do you mean a rod in my leg? How could they do that to me without my permission?!”

My mind tried to make sense of this odd conversation. I felt like I was being forced to look into an unknown dark hole. I had vaguely sensed this hole existed, but until then I had avoided looking into it. This dark hole was filled with information and things I didn’t want to know. My mind scrambled, looking for something to get me out of that moment. I want to go back to the motorhome and our trip!

Seeing my confused face, Jerry tried to reassure me, “It’s okay. You survived. You’re doing good. You handled the surgeries well and are recovering better than the doctors thought you might.”

“Surgeries? I had surgeries. How many?” I closed my eyes before he could answer. I really didn’t want to know. I had already heard more than I could handle. I was glad he answered my questions, but I was also thankful he knew when enough was enough.

As I drifted into an exhausted sleep, I realized that our trip around the country definitely was over, but a very different journey was beginning. Somewhere within me I whispered, “I want to become better, not bitter during this journey.”

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Have you ever heard any news that was too hard for you to comprehend at first?

Every Tuesday and Thursday, I’m posting excerpts from Because I Can.
This is from Chapter 2: 50% Chance of Death 

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“I’m sorry I don’t have better news.” Dr. Hinika’s voice interrupted Jerry’s panicked thoughts.

Jerry’s mind was swirling. He couldn’t believe he was in an ICU waiting room hearing this devastating news about me. “Will … will she live?”

Dr. Hinika placed his hand on Jerry’s shoulder.  “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. I’m sorry.”

Jerry tried to breathe.

“We are doing all we can.” Dr. Hinika continued. “If you want to, you can see her now.”

“Yes, I want to,” Jerry almost shouted.

Medical Coma … May 20 to May 31, 2004

“She doesn’t look like herself. She’s lying there motionless with her eyes closed. She’s in a medically-induced coma. She has a breathing tube in her mouth and other tubes and wires all over. Are you sure you want to see her like that?”

“Yes I want to see her.” Jerry was sure that he needed to see me. “I’ll be okay.”

Jerry was escorted to my room. He tried to look beyond the tubes and wires that filled his vision to see my face. He thought he prepared himself for what I might look like, but he had failed.

Janet, that’s Janet? He didn’t even recognize me. The tape holding the breathing tube covered my mouth and surrounding area. The rest of my face was swollen beyond recognition. He wished my eyes would open, maybe then he’d recognize me. But I didn’t move at all, not even an eyelid. He was glad he had not brought the boys in.

He watched my chest fall and rise. She’s breathing, she’s alive. Well, at least with the ventilator, she’s alive. He looked at my face again, still baffled at the unfamiliar look.

The nurse nearby checked a beeping monitor.

“Why does she look so different?” he asked.

“The fluids we give her cause her face and her whole body to swell. Also, though she has no facial or head trauma, the severe trauma to the rest of her body causes inflammation everywhere.”

“Does she know anything? Can she hear?” Jerry wanted a connection with this woman that he was trying to convince himself was me.

“You can talk to her. She will probably hear you, but she won’t respond. The medications keep her sedated and calm, which is important right now, with all her injuries.”

Hearing the nurse mention my injuries, Jerry’s eyes moved to my legs, especially the left one. A sheet covered me, so he couldn’t see anything unusual about the left leg. But he was surprised to see a metal apparatus on my right thigh.

“What is that?”

“Her femur is shattered and they use that to hold it in place temporarily until they determine how to best stabilize it.”

Jerry studied my face again — willing the woman on the bed to move or do something.

Nothing.

There was no movement. Monitors beeped. Blood dripped into me. The ventilator hummed. Something clicked rhythmically. Nurses worked around him. Feet shuffled in the hallway.

…

Because I Can – Table of Contents

As I mentioned yesterday in a little confession, I will be posting some guest posts in the coming weeks. Here’s the first one from Erin McKinney, who is a licensed nurse practitioner and has a website called Masters of Nursing for students interested in getting an advanced degree in the nursing field.

Ways to Stay Healthy After Age 40

After age 40, many people start to notice differences in their physical health. If you are not already maintaining a healthy lifestyle, incorporating these tips into your daily life will help you live longer, healthier, and happier. Diet, exercise, and medical check-ups are all important parts of staying healthy well past your 40th birthday.

1. Aerobic Exercise – Exercises like walking, jogging, cycling, or other aerobic activities help burn stored body fat, which is increasingly important with age when your metabolism slows down. It can also reduce your risk of developing chronic diseases that can be debilitating later in life. You should do aerobic exercise three to five days a week for 20-30 minutes, depending on the intensity.

2. Strength Training – Our bodies begin losing muscle mass around age 30 without a training program. Strength training, which can be done with free weights, resistance bands, or other strength-training equipment, should be done two or three days a week. This type of exercise helps your muscles retain mass and strength and keeps your bones healthy.

3. Stretch – Stretching has a number of health benefits. It helps you keep your flexibility, which helps range of motion and reduces the risk of injury. Stretching muscles after aerobic workouts will also keep you from being as sore afterwards. You can also stretch through activities such as yoga and tai chi. Make sure you hold your stretches between 10 to 30 seconds without any jerking motions.

4. Chill Out – Stress and anxiety can cause a number of health problems such as cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and obesity. Healthy ways to manage stress include walking, meditating, or even napping. Almost any type of exercise is a great way to relieve stress, since physical activity produces endorphins in the brain that make us feel good.

5. Drink Water – After the age of 30, the water content in the body drops, especially in the blood, muscles, and fatty tissues. Even a drop of one percent can increase one’s risk of developing health problems such as high blood pressure and urinary tract infections. You should have between 10 to 16 cups of water a day, depending on your size and activity level. However, this can include water in a number of beverages and even juicy fruits like apples.

6. Eat Healthy – A healthy diet is an important part of a long, healthy life. You diet should have a balance of protein, carbohydrates, dairy, and fiber with lots of vitamins and minerals. Try to eat foods with whole grains, unsaturated fats, and low sodium contents.

7. Medical Testing – After age 40, you are more at risk to develop certain health conditions and diseases. Make sure to have regular medical check-ups along with screenings for heart disease, cancer, hormone imbalances, or any diseases common in your family. Early detection through these tests is often the key to preventing further complications later on.

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Do you have any additional tips to help us live well in our forties and beyond?

If you or someone you know is interested in getting an advanced degree in the nursing field, check out Erin’s site, Masters of Nursing for information.