#i spent 3 days in the hospital nearly 2 of those in icu

[kyuala]

.

[asphyxheart]

The night of the 30th of August

Back to real stuff with that story. The 30th of August is the night I tried to die and nearly managed to do it. I will give more details in the following text. But first, I need to say that I need to speak about it. It’s not something poeple asked me, this is not to draw attention like some poeple said in my dms or whatever stupid random thing you could think off. I write, and if poeple react, eh, why not, bur really I don’t care if you enjoy or not. That being said, let’s start the story in itself.

 When I loaded the crossbow this night, I had no idea I was about to shot myself. Sure, I unlocked the safety so if I ever pull the trigger, it would shots, but I did it automatically. I made some pushes and breathold to make my heart pound and find the good spot to put the tip of the nail I was about to shot in my heart. Once I found the spot, I placed the crossbow and put a finger on the trigger.

At that moment, it was lost. I had no more coherent thoughts, just a whirling wind of abstract and delusive thinkings. Worthless. Live ? but why. Death was appealing. Very seductive. Why live why live why live. I am useless. Useless again and again. Why living. Death. I want to die. Not live. Those are the only thing I remember, but I stood there for a solid 15 minutes with that crossbow aimed at my heart. I was completly lost in my mind, confused at such a point I couldn’t even remember where I was, who I was, what I was doing. I was nothing at that moment. Pure incoherent thoughts.

Then I shot. As easy as that, I pulled the trigger. The shock of the nail entering my body woke me up and I realised that I eventually might have done something stupid. Note that I still don’t regret having tried to die, I only regret having panicked and called the emergencies. So, after I woke up from that…narcosis of thoughts, I called emergencies because…well, I was dying, and my survival instinct, curse on it, made me call the 144 (Swiss emergency number).

It is hard to describe how it feels to have a nail in the heart and lung. It felt like a punch, then no more pain for some minutes, just a disturbance where the nail was because it was moving. It was a like having a needle in the skin, but bigger obviously, and a little bit burning. No blood was spurting out, I wasn’t shouting in pain or begging for my life as some poeple asked me in my dm, I was “just“ in shock, so most of the physical pain signals were blocked because of the massive adrenaline release.

I also called the guard service of my company. Us Swiss need to serve yearly in the military duty, and I was in the middle of my yearly duty service. I called them to say I will not be able to come the next day because I had a pretty bad accident.

After that second call that felt very important to me at that particular moment, I went in my living room and waited the emergencies. The doctor of the village I live in arrived first and began to take my blood pressure and ECG, stething me and even if things were going a bit grey, I saw he was concerned. The nail was moving at each beat of my heart. I remember the bpm, that was of 32. Then I closed my eyes but stayed counscious. It was hard to keep the eyes open. It was damn hard to breath too. My pierced lung had accumulated some air in the pleural cavity and was slowly crushing my lung, pushing my heart and misplacing the rest of my internal organs. It became more evident in the ambulance (I’ll speak of that later).

The ambulance arrived and I walked to the bed they had prepared for me. It was hard to walk too, because it made the nail move and the pain was beginning to come back.  I remember they injected something in me to help my heart beat and put me under oxygen, with the mask. Truly, you don’t know how needed those mask are until you are in need of one yourself. It helped me a lot with breathing but I still had a very bad breathing. The ambulance began its travel and drived fast to the CHUV, because it was the only hospital in my department that had the correct equipement. It was approximately 120km away from my home. But as it was 2-3am, no one was on the road so the ambulance travelled very fast. I remember…a lot from that ambulance, including when they needed to stop because breathing was impossible for me. The pneumothorax turned to be an acute pneumothorax and was beginning to push my heart and crush the right lung. They stopped the ambulance and pierced the pneumothorax. The sound, I will remember all my life I think. Pshhhhhhhh. Under pressure gas, really. Because…air was under pressure in my chest actually, and gas in the chest cavity is pretty bad usually.

Anyway, they drained the air and I could breath again. I heard some words but didn’t paid attention to them as they were not directed to me. I remember “very visible jugular“ words, that’s all. The ambulance travelled to the hospital and we arrived at the CHUV.

The CHUV is one of the biggest Swiss hospital. I arrived at the emergency department and at least 30 poeple were waiting there. Well, maybe not 30, but for how numb I was, that felt like a litteral crowd. I remember having thought “all those poeple for me ? but no, don’t, it’s not worth. Go to sleep“. Then they cut my pant with scissors, placed green sheets over my chest and began to sedate me I suppose ? I don’t remember. I do remember the bright flash light when the bed was pushed to the operating room, then I passed out. I don’t know if it was because of cardiac tamponad (the surgeon that operated me said I was very close to death when he opened me) or because of the ketamin they used to sedate me. They told me it was ketamin. No idea actually, I just trust my doctors about everything.

Anyway, the bright light, then the darkness.

And I woke up.

I fucking woke up.

My first words, once they removed the intubation tube to make me breath, were “and shit“.

I was sore, the same soreness as if you had pushed your body to its limit during a sport session and didn’t do the stretching. Everywhere was hurting, breathing was agony. My breathing volume was so low (they gave me that tuby tube thing to breath in to train again my lung to breath alone, I’ll send a pic if I can find it again). Moving my hand was sending pain in my chest, moving my head, moving my legs. Pain.

I got the visit of the psy who asked me straight away why I did that. I answered I wanted to die and still wanted to. I kinda still want too nowadays, but I’ll speak of that later. I got his visit 4-5 times for the week I was in hospital. I spent 3 days in ICU, 2 days in…“soins continus“ and 2-3 days in normal room. The time after I woke up meant nothing, I was completly disconnected and didn’t care about anything. To me it just felt like another failure, but this one like the ultaimate failure. I got the complete opposite of what I initially wanted.

It is a very strange feeling to have a breastbone in 2 pieces and not in one solid piece. I felt very vulnerable. And weak, so weak. That’s normal after such a big operation and long sedation, but still. My chest was smooth and tender, if a book was laid on it I felt it would make a hole.

Days at hospital could have been annoying, but to me, it wasn’t. I slept a lot, get drugged a lot (for painkiller), slept because of painkiller, then ate my food (one hour for a biscuit, otherwise I threw up), then slept again. Some visits, the psy, the police, my captain. My family. When i was physically better they put me in psychiatric hospital for a week and a half, then I went home. And that’s it. What happened during the night of the 30th of August.

But no death, not this time. Another time, maybe. Or not. I don’t know. For my mental state right now as I write this story, it is half half. I half want to die and half want to live. I take my medecine and go to every appointement with my psy. I think  it’s helping ? In another hand I just think it’s a waste of time and they should focus on other poeple because I am not worth it. I know it’s depression that makes thought like that and that I should take distance from those, but it’s hard, very hard. Death is still pretty appealing and I uncounsciously look for another safe way of dying, but at the same time I don’t want to. See ? hard to explain, and severe ambivalence. Screw me.

[la-appel-du-vide]

06•14•19

After the cookie class, Kena and I went to grab some food. She took me to HuHot, which is one of her favorite Mongolian places. We started eating, and the food was actually really good! And that's when I got the scariest phone call of my life.

Whitnie was calling, and when I answered, I first thought that she was laughing. Everything that she was saying was incoherent, and I told her she needed to speak more clearly. That's when I realized she was not laughing, but actually crying. Basically all that I could make out from the conversation with her is, "Dad's hurt. Mom's crying. You need to come home."

From there, it's a bit of a blur. I remember trying to ask her what happened to Dad, but she had no information for me other than it was serious and my mom needed me home. We rushed out the restaurant and Kena drove me to my house to meet the family. I knew that Dad had been up at a Fathers and Sons camp-out for the stake, so my mind was racing wondering what could have happened. 

When I got home, there were a few visitors and mom was still on the phone. I started to learn a couple more details, like they were working to get a pulse and he wasn't breathing. Someone up at the campground with him told us they were life-flighting him to the hospital, and we should meet them there. It was a rush to collect our things and our emotions, and drive up to Ogden Regional Medical Center. We were met there by Heidi and Sean Brophy, President and Sister Jacobson, Isaac and one of Dad's coworkers Jay. It was a confusing time as we were hearing different pieces of the story, and waiting for Dad to get there. Mom had to go fill out some medical paperwork, and the rest of us sat in the waiting room. Once Dad arrived, they let my mom and siblings go see him. He was awake, but completely out of it. All he kept saying was, "Help me." It is so hard to see such a tough guy in that kind of state. Really shook me up. They'd cut all of his clothes off of him, and he was connected to all kinds of machines and wires. I'm not really sure he knew we were there, and he definitely didn't know what was going on. We stayed back there a few minutes, then went back to the waiting room while the staff worked to stabilize him. 

That's when President Hjorten showed up, and told us the story (I'm also adding some details we learned later from the two men that saved Dad's life.):

They had just finished a devotional, and Dad had helped pass around doughnuts as refreshments. Then he went and picked up his camp chair, and sat near a large fire-pit, with only a small fire going. Brother Brown, and his son Alex, and Brother Zimmerman, and his son Christian, had just come over to stand around the fire when they noticed my Dad's head suddenly drop, his phone fall out of his hand, and his body begin to slump. They tried to ask him if he was ok, but they got no response.  Brother Zimmerman pushed his body back up in the chair, and realized there was no pulse and that he wasn't breathing. He yelled at him and tried to get a response, but there was nothing. Luckily, Brother Brown happens to be a doctor. He instructed Zimmerman to get Dad on the ground and start CPR while he called the paramedics. They did CPR for nearly 30 minutes waiting for the ambulance to arrive, and the decision was made at some point during that time to send a life-flight helicopter in as it would be a faster route from the campground to the hospital. President Hjorten said that after 15 minutes of CPR, he was pretty sure they'd lost him. His eyes had rolled back into his head, his body was cold, and it was starting to turn blue. The doctor had the inspired idea to ask for an epipen. They could use the burst of adrenaline to help kick-start the heart. A nearby man happened to have one on him, so they quickly shot it into Dad's stomach. They said when they did this, Dad became semi-conscious for a minute and looked around and took a couple of breaths, but then went back into unconsciousness. They yelled out for another epipen, and after a couple of minutes, a kid came running with two. They used one more just a couple minutes later, and got the same kind of response. Finally, the ambulance arrived, and they were able to shock his heart back to life. He woke up and became kind of angry, they said, fighting the paramedics trying to strap him to the board so he could be placed in the helicopter. They had six or seven guys holding me down, because he is STRONG. Then they flew him to Ogden Regional, where we met him. 

They got him stabilized, and then moved him to the ICU. He was in and out of it, but the doctors were amazed at his condition, for 30 minutes of CPR and lack of oxygen. He never had to be intubated, and he was pretty alert. Confused, for sure, but alert. They put him through many tests to find out what happened, but learned that there really was no explanation for it. His CT scan and EKG came back normal, he was free of blood clots and blocked arteries, and he didn't have a heart attack. The random event is kind of scary, so they decided to keep him in the ICU where they could keep a close watch on him until they could implant a defibrillator, which basically monitors his heart rate 24/7, and shock it back into normal rhythm when needed to try and prevent a life-threatening situation from happening again. 

We were all at the hospital pretty late that night, but Aubrey, Isaac and I left for home about 3 AM to grab some stuff for Mom and Dad, who would be at the hospital for awhile. And Whit couldn't get herself to leave. We slept for a couple hours, and then headed back over there with all the needed stuff. 

Dad seemed to be more conscious on Saturday, but clearly had short-term memory problems. He asked the same questions over and over and over again: How did I get here? Where is my truck? I was supposed to cook breakfast at the camp-out this morning... Did anyone track down any stoves? Isaac and I had an appointment at the car dealership today - He should probably call and cancel. So we went over and over those details, but within 10 or 15 minutes, he'd ask them again. One funny side-note: Each time we told him that he had to be life-flighted to the hospital, he'd get a look of pure shock on his face, and go: "What!! That's going to cost like _______." And each time, his estimated cost went higher and higher. He started with $5,000. Then $10,000. Then $15,000. Then $30,000. Then $50,000. And by the end of the day, we got: "That's going to cost like, $100,000!" Hahaha every single time he began his response, we'd all look at each other in anticipation of what amount he was going to say, and try so hard not to laugh. 

He remembered very little from Saturday. He had all kinds of visitors, but by Sunday, he'd forgotten seeing anyone at all.

Saturday night, we all left (except mom who stayed with Dad the whole time) around midnight and went to get some Father's Day stuff ready for Dad. (Sad, right? Father's Day in the ICU?) It took us way longer than it should have, but it was fun to take Dad a candy poster and some presents to try and brighten his morning and celebrate him a little extra for sure. He seemed to like it, but apparently forgot all about it, because he never remembered opening his presents when he saw them all again at home later. I also made him a buttermilk pie for his Father's Day dessert, because they're his favorite.

It was a long few days in the hospital. So many drives back and forth, trying to keep the house cleaned and take care of Archie, but also be there for Mom and Dad, and bring everyone what they needed. We had mostly awesome nurses, but on Sunday, encountered one who wouldn't even let us all go sit with him at the same time. Not even on Father's Day. When most of the other nurses would even let non-relatives in to see him! Basically ridiculous. We were heated.

I was getting 2-3 hours of sleep a night, which is more I'm sure than my poor mom who was sleeping on a hospital floor, but I was still exhausted. By the time I rolled into work early Monday morning, I was physically and emotionally spent. I would cry at the smallest criticism, or sometimes at nothing at all, all day long. The hospital and the trauma really takes a toll on you. 

Dad got his defibrillator put in on Monday, and they said they'd monitor him for 24 hours, and then he could go home. We were relieved because no one was getting the rest they needed while at the hospital, and Dad was truly just miserable there. But after 15 attempts during the operation, the doctor was never able to get the wires in a place he was happy with. X-rays and ultrasounds afterward proved that. So he had to go back in on Tuesday, and get his incision re-cut open, so the doctor could try again. Depression really started to set in at this news. This time was easy, the doctor said. He didn't know why, but it only took him one try to get the wires in a place he was happy with. And because he was so confident, he allowed Dad to finally come home.

Dad's extremely sore from 2 broken ribs caused by the CPR, and complains about a lot of headaches, but he has a beating heart and we are so thankful. So many things lined up for him that night: it happened when people were around, instead of an hour later when he would have been sleeping alone in his truck; a doctor happened to be at the campground, and one of the only two men near dad when it happened; and they were able to use two epipens to help the resuscitation efforts. If this had happened at home, he may have already gone to bed for the night as he goes to sleep early, and we never would have known. It could have happened while he was driving, which would have been tragic no doubt. But it happened at the right place, at the right time. And he's made a truly miraculous recovery. His short-term memory has returned, and he never lost any long-term memory, which is a miracle because his brain was without oxygen for so long. 

We are so grateful to still have him with us, and for the reassurance that the implanted defibrillator gives us that this won't happen again.

Now he just needs a few weeks for the ribs to heal, and he is practically good as new.

We sure love our Dad.

[gordonwilliamsweb]

Learning to Live Again: A Lazarus Tale From the Covid Front Lines

This story also ran on LAist. It can be republished for free.

The twinkle in his eyes, the delight in his smile, the joyous way he moved his disease-withered frame. They all proclaimed a single, resounding message: Grateful to be alive!

“As my care team and my family tell me, ‘You were born again. You have to learn to live again,’” said Vicente Perez Castro. “I went through a very difficult time.”

Hell and back is more like it.

Perez, a 57-year-old cook from Long Beach, California, could barely breathe when he was admitted on June 5 to Los Angeles County’s Harbor-UCLA Medical Center. He tested positive for covid-19 and spent three months in the intensive care unit, almost all of it hooked up to a ventilator with a tube down his throat. A different tube conducted nutrients into his stomach.

At a certain point, the doctors told his family that he wasn’t going to make it and that they should consider disconnecting the lifesaving equipment. But his 26-year-old daughter, Janeth Honorato Perez, one of three children, said no.

And so, on a bright February morning half a year later, here he was — an outpatient, slowly making his way on a walker around the perimeter of a high-ceilinged room at Rancho Los Amigos National Rehabilitation Center in Downey, one of L.A. County’s four public hospitals and the only one whose main mission is patient rehab.

Perez, who is 5-foot-5, had lost 72 pounds since falling ill. His legs were unsteady, his breathing labored, as he plodded forward. But he kept moving for five or six minutes, “a huge improvement” from late last year, when he could walk only for 60 seconds, said Bradley Tirador, one of his physical therapists.

Rancho Los Amigos has an interdisciplinary team of physicians, therapists and speech pathologists who provide medical and mental health care, as well as physical, occupational and recreational therapy. It serves a population that has been disproportionately affected by the pandemic: 70% of its patients are Latino, as are 90% of its covid patients. Nearly everyone is either uninsured or on Medi-Cal, the government-run insurance program for people with low incomes.

Rancho is one of a growing number of medical centers across the country with a program specifically designed for patients suffering the symptoms that come in the wake of covid. Mount Sinai Health System’s Center for Post-Covid Care in New York City, which opened last May, was one of the first. Yale University, the University of Pennsylvania, UC Davis Health and, more recently, Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles are among the health systems with similar offerings.

Rancho Los Amigos treats only patients recovering from severe illness and long stays in intensive care. Many of the other post-covid centers also tend to those who had milder cases of covid, were not hospitalized and later experienced a multitude of diffuse, hard-to-diagnose but disabling symptoms — sometimes described as “long covid.”

The most common symptoms include fatigue, muscle aches, shortness of breath, insomnia, memory problems, anxiety and heart palpitations. Many health care providers say these symptoms are just as common, perhaps more so, among patients who had only moderate covid.

A survey conducted by members of the Body Politic Covid-19 Support Group showed that, among patients who’d experienced mild to moderate covid, 91% still had some of those symptoms an average of 40 days after their initial recovery.

Other studies estimate that about 10% of covid patients will develop some of these prolonged symptoms. With more than 28 million confirmed cases in the U.S. and counting, this post-covid syndrome is a rapidly escalating concern.

“What we can say is that 2 [million] to 3 million Americans at a minimum are going to require long-term rehabilitation as a result of what has happened to this day, and we are just at the beginning of that,” said David Putrino, director of rehabilitation innovation at Mount Sinai Health.

Health care professionals seem guardedly optimistic that most of these patients will fully recover. They note that many of the symptoms are common in those who’ve had certain other viral illnesses, including mononucleosis and cytomegalovirus disease, and that they tend to resolve over time.

“People will recover and will be able to get back to living their regular lives,” said Dr. Catherine Le, co-director of the covid recovery program at Cedars-Sinai. But for the next year or two, she said, “I think we will see people who don’t feel able to go back to the jobs they were doing before.”

Rancho Los Amigos is discussing plans to begin accepting patients who had mild illness and developed post-covid syndrome later, said Lilli Thompson, chief of its rehab therapy division. For now, its main effort is to accommodate all the severe cases being transferred directly from its three public sister hospitals, she said.

The most severely ill patients can have serious neurological, cardiopulmonary and musculoskeletal damage. Most — like Perez — have lost a significant amount of muscle mass. They typically have “post-ICU syndrome,” an assortment of physical, mental and emotional symptoms that can overlap with the symptoms of long covid, making it difficult to tease out how much of their condition is a direct impact of the coronavirus and how much is the more general impact of months in intensive care.

The large, rectangular rehab room where Perez met with his therapists earlier this month is half-gym, half-sitcom set. Part of the space is occupied by weights, video-linked machines that help strengthen hand control and high-tech treadmills, including one that reduces the pull of gravity, enabling patients who are unsteady on their feet to walk without falling. “We tell patients, ‘It’s like walking on the moon,’” Thompson said.

At the other end of the room sits a large-screen TV and a low couch, which helps people practice standing and sitting without undue stress. In a bedroom area, patients relearn to make and unmake their beds. A few feet away, a small office space helps them work on computer and telephone skills they may have lost.

Because Perez was a cook at a hotel restaurant before he fell ill, his occupational therapy involves meal preparation. He stood at the sink, rinsing lettuce, carrots and cucumbers for a salad, then took them over to a table, where he sat down and chopped them with a sharp knife. His knife hand trembled perilously, so occupational therapist Brenda Covarrubias wrapped a weighted band around his wrist to steady him.

“He is working on getting back the skills and endurance he needs for his work, and just for routine daily activities like walking the dogs and walking up steps,” Covarrubias said.

Perez, who immigrated to the U.S. from Guadalajara, Mexico, nearly two decades ago, was upbeat and optimistic, even though his voice was faint and his body still a shell of its former self.

When his speech therapist, Katherine Chan, removed his face mask for some breathing exercises, he pointed to the mustache he’d sprouted recently, cheerfully exclaiming he had trimmed it himself. And, he said, “I can change my clothes now.”

Weeks earlier, Perez had mentioned how much he loved dancing before he got sick. So they made it part of his physical therapy.

“Vicente, are you ready to bailar?” Kevin Mui, a student physical therapist, asked him, as another staff member put on a tune by the Colombian cumbia band La Sonora Dinamita.

Slowly, shakily, Perez rose. He anchored himself in an upright position, then began shuffling his feet from front to back and side to side, hips swaying to the rhythm, his face aglow with the sheer joy of being alive.

Kaiser Health News (KHN) is a national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.

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Learning to Live Again: A Lazarus Tale From the Covid Front Lines published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

[razzleberrypudding]

In My Way- Part 2

A/N: Thanks so much to those of you who requested a part 2 of this story!  As I was writing this part 2, I realized the story I was writing was becoming more and more complex, and has since stretched to 5+ parts. I realize that sometimes it’s hard to keep up with long term stories on tumblr, and so I am also uploading In My Way on Wattpad. I will continue to post In My Way on here, but if you would prefer to read it on Wattpad, my username is TheaterJunkie. Sorry For the long author’s note just wanted to keep y’all in the know. Anyway, here’s part 2!

Word Count: 2395

---

It had been 2 months since Leonard Snart had shot you. You spent 3 days in the ICU before you were stable enough to continue surgery. 15 hours of surgery later and you were finally stable enough to be taken off of life support. It was another week until you woke up. The first thing you saw was Barry's face. He was asleep in the chair next to your hospital bed, his hand gently resting against yours. You squeezed it gently, attempting to wake him. He stirred slightly, before slowly opening his eyes. They met yours and his face broke out in the most amazing smile, the relief evident in his eyes.

"Oh thank god you're awake" he beamed, squeezing your hand, "I have to go tell everyone!"

You smiled at his excitement, but as he pulled away to go to the door you froze.

"Barry?" You asked slowly, fear rising, "I... I can't feel my legs."

Barry paused and looked back at you, "when Snart shot you..." he trailed off, as if trying to find the words, "there was some nerve damage. The doctors say that it's not impossible that that you'll regain full use of your body but... for now..."

"I'm paralyzed..."

"From the waist down... yes..."

You looked up at the ceiling, taking it all in.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," you forced a smile, "go tell the others I'm awake."

"Okay"

5 weeks later you were released from the hospital into the care of Star Labs. Since then, Caitlin had been running tests on your spine to see if she could do anything about the paralysis. So far she had had no luck, but life in a wheelchair wasn't so bad.

---

"I've really missed having someone in a wheelchair around here." Cisco teased you as you wheeled into the room one day.

"Oh man Cisco, that's cold." Barry laughed.

You smiled and wheeled over to Caitlin, ready to find out what she had for you today.

"Alright Cait, tell me some good news" you chuckled, "please."

"Well, I think I figured out what the issue is, if you consider that good news."

"Knowing what the problem is makes it easier to fix so, that's good in my book."

"When Snart, Captain Cold, shot you with the cold gun, not only did he, you know, blast a huge frozen hole in your side, he also froze some of your nerves essentially giving them frostbite. I think I can develop something to reverse the damage, and give you your legs back!"

"Oh my gosh Cait! That's amazing news!!! This is great!" You squealed, "thank you so much!"

"You're welcome! I'm just glad we'll get our favorite member of the police force back on her feet!"

"Hey!" Barry and Joe called from the other room.

You and Caitlin laughed, but neither of you took it back.

When the laughter died down you turned to Barry, "so what ever happened to Snart?"

Everyone tensed, and nobody met your eyes. You looked around worriedly.

"Barry?"

He wouldn't look at you.

"Joe? Cisco?"

Nothing.

"Cait?"

She looked between all of you, worrying her lip. "Barry..." she murmured, "tell her."

You turned to Barry, "well?"

"Follow me" he mumbled, looking at the floor.

Barry led you through Star Labs, down to what they called the pipeline. You had never been down there, but you sensed it wasn't good. Barry walked up to a large door and pressed a panel next to it. It opened.

You weren't entirely sure what you were looking at. It looked like some insane kind of prison cell. A man lay on the floor of the cell. He appeared to have been beaten, recently. You wheeled yourself a little closer, and that was when you saw his face. Even covered with bruises and one black eye you recognized him. Snart.

"Oh my god," you breathed, "Barry..."

At the sound of your voice Snart sat up and looked at you with the one eye he could open.

"Snart" you whispered, your hand moving up to cover your mouth.

"You're alive," he mumbled, pushing himself closer to the glass,  "you're alive."

He pressed his hand against the glass, and you saw something in the way he looked at you. Was it relief? Something more? You wheeled yourself closer to the cell until you were close enough to touch the glass. You reached out and pressed your hand to the glass, opposite of Snart. You watched as he closed his eyes, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

"You're in a wheelchair," he stammered, his voice unsteady, " I... I'm sorry..."

This was not the Leonard Snart you knew. This was not the Leonard Snart anyone knew.

"What did you do to him Barry?" You said sternly, your eyes still on Snart.

"You have to understand-"

"How could you do something like this?! You're supposed to be the hero! This isn't something the Barry Allen I knew could even imagine doing. What the hell were you thinking? What is wrong with you?" Your hand still on the glass you had turned yourself to look at Barry. "How long?"

"It's complicated..."

"How long Barry..."

"He turned himself in just hours after he shot you."

"Oh my god." Your head was spinning, "but... these... these are new injuries... how... have you been torturing him for 2 months?"

Barry was silent. You felt like you were going to be sick.

"No... no no no no no..." you had to get out of there, you had to get away from this. You were dizzy, the whole world was spinning. "Oh god..."

"Please..." Barry reached out towards you.

"Don't touch me!" You screamed, pushing him away.

That push knocked you off balance and you fell, tumbling out of the wheelchair. You hit the ground hard, and heard both Snart and Barry call out your name. Barry rushed towards you but you pushed him away.

"Don't you touch me Barry Allen! Don't you ever come near me again! Something is seriously wrong with you! You... You're twisted!"

Barry backed off, and you pulled yourself over to the door to the cell, pressing your back against the glass. By now the rest of team Flash had come to the pipeline.

"You all knew?"

Their silence was the only answer you needed.

"All of you stay the hell away from me." Your voice was cold and hard. "Let him out"

"What?" Barry asked, "we can't do that."

"Let him out so he can help me back into my chair."

"We can help you," Caitlin pleaded.

"No. I don't want any of you touching me. Let. him. out."

Cisco sighed and tapped a button on his tablet and the door behind you slowly opened. You started to fall back, until you were caught by two strong arms. Snart held you tightly, as if trying to make sure you were real.

"You're alive," he kept whispering, "I though I had... but you're alive."

Slowly he stood up, holding you tightly in his arms. He was weak, and clearly in pain, but he righted your chair and then slowly lowered you into it. Then he turned and walked back into his cell.

"No," you turned to Cisco, " don't lock him back up, please. He needs a doctor."

"I'm a criminal, this is where I belong." Snart sighed.

"No, not like this. Leonard... please Cisco, please..."

Cisco looked at Barry, but he just scoffed, shook his head, and walked out. Cisco looked at Caitlyn and Joe, and then back at you.

"Please... If you wont take him to a doctor, then at least let me take a look at him."

"Alright, fine. But if he causes any trouble-"

"Thank you," you almost smiled, but you still felt too sick, "now please... leave."

"The last time you two were together he nearly killed you," Joe shook his head, refusing.

"He's not the one I'm afraid of right now."

They all looked at the ground before slowly filing out of the room, Caitlin, then Cisco, then finally Joe. And then you were alone with Snart. You turned to look at him. He was still standing in his cell. He looked weak, and shaky, like he could fall over at any moment. You slowly wheeled yourself into the cell and stopped in front of him.

"Leonard..." you reached out towards him.

He looked at you, and then sat down on the bed in front of you, his head hung.

"I'm not dead Leonard, you don't have to beat yourself up-"

"I could've killed you... you should get away from me... get far far away"

"No. I'm not going to do that. We're gonna get you out of this cell, get you cleaned up, and checked out."

"Why are you doing this? I'm a criminal, a bad guy."

"There's good in you Snart, you care about people, not just yourself."

"And look where caring got me. Locked up and beaten in a cell," he sneered.

"I'm sorry."

"They let me think you were dead."

"Why do you care so much?" your voice was gentle.

Snart was silent, looking down at his hands. You reached out and took his hands in your own.

"Look at me," you whispered. When he didn't you reached up and cupped his face in your hands. Forcing him to look at you.

Suddenly the cell door slammed closed. You jumped. You were now locked in the cell with Snart, and though he seemed different now, he was still the man that shot you.

"What's this about Flash?" He probed, after seeing the fear in your eyes.

"I'm not just gonna let you walk out of here." Barry's voice came over the speaker.

"What about your girlfriend?" Snart was referring to you and you blushed.

"He's not my boyfriend," you insisted

"She's not my- look I can't just let you go Snart, and if she would rather trust you than us then she can sit in there with you." Then the intercom went dead. And you and Snart were left in silence, in a tiny locked cell.

"What happened to him?" You asked after several tense minutes of silence, "how did he get like this?"

"You." Snart simply stated.

"Me?" He nodded, "what did I do?"

"You died."

"I... I died?" You stammered.

"When they first brought you in, you were in surgery for hours, but you were really... badly injured..." he looked down, "your heart stopped on the table. They got you back but... something in Barry snapped. That night I turned myself in at the hospital-"

"You were at the hospital?"

"I came to see you. Anyway, that night, something in Barry changed. He brought me back here and then vanished. He was gone for hours. I think he went back to you. When he finally returned he beat me until I was senseless. I think he would have kept going except Cisco and Joe finally pulled him off. The way he was whaling on me, I thought you were... dead... I thought I had killed you. I had tried to aim my gun just to graze you, but it's not that accurate."

Smarts breath was picking up and he was tense. You slowly reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

"It's alright Snart, I'm not dead."

"After that night the beatings weren't quite as bad, and he didn't do them very often but..." he had relaxed slightly, "I thought I deserved them, I thought I was taking the blunt force of Barry's grief."

"Snart," you pulled yourself closer, until your legs were pressed against his, and reached your arms out towards him, "I'm so sorry."

Snart allowed you to pull him into your arms, and he relaxed slightly as you hugged him.

"I had no idea this was happening," you whispered, "I had no idea that the Flash had turned into... into this."

Snart's body began to shake. Was he- the great captain cold- crying in your arms? You felt terrible, and confused. This was the man that shot you after all, so why did you feel so bad for him? Because he was still human, and no one deserved this.

"Help me sit next to you."

"Okay."

Snart carefully lifted you out of your chair and placed you next to him, your currently useless legs draped across his lap. The two of you sat in silence, your arms still resting around his neck. You were amazed by how comfortable you felt this close to a known killer, but sitting here with Snart, you felt something you had never felt before. You rested your head on his shoulder and he rested his head on yours. It was nice, and familiar. You felt safe. Snart's arms around you gave you a warm feeling, like he would never let anyone hurt you. Then Barry was outside the cell door.

"Hey, you're needed at the police station."

You ignored him, but felt Snart lift his head to look at Barry.

"The captain didn't say it was a request."

"Leave me alone Barry," you mumbled, the sound of his voice making you sick.

"No," his voice was stern, "you have a life, it's time you get back to it. Don't worry," he all but sneered, "he'll still be here when you get back."

You felt Snart place you gently back in your chair and you opened your eyes. Slowly you turned to face Barry as he opened the cell door. You wheeled yourself out and he shut the door behind you. You sat right in front of him and glared up at him.

"If you so much as touch him," you threatened.

"What are you gonna do?" Barry shot back meanly.

You felt anger build up inside of you. "Barry Allen I swear on everything you hold dear-"

"I won't touch him, just go." Barry turned and walked away from you.

"What happened to you Barry? Why have you done this?"

Barry glanced at you over his shoulder and you caught a glint of something sinister behind his eyes. He didn't look like himself. It was a look that filled you with dread.

You slowly turned back to look at Snart, "I'll be back soon okay?"

He nodded, and with that you slowly wheeled out of the room to go meet with your police captain.

[robertjameshomeservices]

When it comes to a balance between family and business, I don’t believe I have all the answers. Nobody does. I do, however, believe I know the questions that need to be answered to get that long-term healthy balance that is just right for you. Both my business and personal experience have brought me to this point.

Let me explain.

Powering ahead

I have to tell you, there was a time when I thought I had all the answers. It was 2005. I was in my mid-thirties and had four awesome kids: Hayden (15), Cameron (13), Nadine (11) and Rohan (2). I had a beautiful wife, Regan (the mother of Rohan and later on Luke), who – at the time – I believed would be my life partner. Hayden, Cameron and Nadine were from my first marriage, to my childhood sweetheart Alison. (Alison and I met when we were just 15 years old, and spent 15 years together. We were two kids in love, who grew apart and realised one day that we weren’t a real match for each other.)

At this time,Robert James and James Home Services like many ‘blended’ families, we had all moved into a very functional situation. On the business front, things were powering! I had grown my ‘one man’ car cleaning business into a national home services franchise network of 400-plus franchisees. Our group, James Home Services, was totalling more than $25 million in home services annually across Australia. We had all the trappings of success: ashy cars, a beautiful home on a horse stud in the Mooloolah Valley, a team of show jumping horses, great holidays, no shortage of funds, and a huge network of great friends and colleagues.

The business success had not been by accident. A combination of vision, entrepreneurial spirit, smart risk taking and a passion for small business, along with a good serve of hard work and determination, got us the results we wanted.

I thought I had it all worked out, that everything was perfect! Then one day, without any warning, my world was turned upside down in one single heartbeat.

The moment it all changed

Hayden, Cameron and Nadine were all very capable horse riders, and we spent many weekends competing in show-jumping events. One very ordinary Saturday morning we were all at the Gatton Agricultural Show. We had been at Gatton since the previous Thursday, camping in our truck. e kids were competing in their events and having an amazingly fun time together. Only Cameron and Hayden had events on Saturday, and Nadine had negotiated going home early with a girlfriend and her family.

It was all very normal.

I was sitting watching as Hayden warmed up to go in to compete. Cameron, having just finished competing, was heading back to our truck. Nadine ran up and gave me a hug, saying, ‘Love you Dad … see you later!’ She turned to head back towards her friend’s truck, her ride home. I returned my attention to Hayden.

Then, just seconds later, at 11.28 am, I heard the most terrifying scream of ‘Dad!’, and instantly recognised the voice of Cameron, who was running towards me at full speed, his face full of fear. He screamed again, ‘Dad … Nadine is down!’

‘Has she been kicked?’ I asked. This was my first thought.

In tears, he said, ‘I don’t know, she’s just in a heap.’

I ran as fast as I could towards the commotion, and the first thing I saw as I got to Nadine was a woman in riding gear doing CPR on my daughter! The woman was screaming, ‘Get the ambulance, get the ambulance!’ to a gate attendant. She said to me, ‘I’m a nurse – she’s in cardiac arrest!’

At that moment, a man started working with her. He turned out to be her husband, an off-duty police officer.

The ambulance arrived quickly from the arena, but the officer seemed way too casual as he got out – perhaps he was assuming it was a minor fall? A scream came from the nurse: ‘She has no pulse! She is in cardiac arrest!’

With that, the whole world turned into a surreal living nightmare. Police cars arrived, a second ambulance arrived with a paramedic on board, crowds gathered, and our whole family rushed to the scene. Friends took little Rohan away. We were all in complete shock.

I couldn’t believe it. Was I living every parent’s nightmare? Could I be watching my daughter die? This living hell went on for 15 excruciating minutes – 15 minutes of fighting to get her back, then Nadine’s heart started to beat again on its own. She was stabilised and taken to Gatton hospital.

At the hospital, I was left waiting in front of the emergency room with absolutely no idea about Nadine’s condition. Then a nurse walked out holding the little gold crucifix that Nadine always wore around her neck. In that moment, I was sure my daughter was gone.

My face must have shown it because the nurse quickly said Robert James and James Home Services, ‘No, no! She’s still alive. We had to put her in an induced coma to stabilise her for transport back to Brisbane.’

My daughter was ALIVE!

I went in to see her, and was shocked but also relieved at what I saw. She looked terrible, but she was alive. Not long afterwards, she was flown to Brisbane Mater Hospital. I could do nothing but watch as the helicopter took my baby girl into a grey sky.

It’s a 90-minute drive from Gatton to Brisbane. A friend drove as I sat, waited and hoped that I would see her alive again, her words still ringing in my head: ‘Love you Dad … see you later.’

‘Take everything, just give me my daughter back.’

Those first few days in Brisbane were terrifying: Nadine was in and out of consciousness in the ICU and it was impossible to evaluate any damage to her brain. Would she ever walk, talk or function normally again?

The worst was the early morning hours, between 1 am and 3 am. She had horrible night terrors and would wake up screaming, ‘I hate you, I hate you, you are not my father!’ I remember putting my head down on the bed and crying, believing that I had lost my beautiful daughter forever. That night, I prayed: ‘Take everything, just give me my daughter back.’ My despair was unbelievably overwhelming.

About a week later, Nadine was moved over to the heart specialist ward at the Prince Charles Hospital to have a defibrillator implanted, to manage any other arrests.

When we did get Nadine in front of the cardiologists, I was desperate for a glimmer of hope. Like all parents in this situation, I wanted to know how this was going to end. I remember asking the cardiologist, ‘What is the likely outcome?’ I also remember the very factual answers from the doctor: ‘Well, the survival rate of adult cardiac arrest is only 5%. For paediatric cardiac arrest, it is only 5% of that 5%! So, you can understand that to find ourselves in this situation is extremely rare …’

You can imagine how tormented we were. As well as this grim outlook, Nadine was showing all the signs of major head injury: rocking back and forth, she was clearly not mentally present, and she could not walk unassisted.

Then on a Friday afternoon, nearly two weeks after her heart attack, the surgeons implanted Nadine’s defibrillator. The doctors told me that she would be groggy after the procedure, so I went home for some much- needed rest. The next day, when I returned to the hospital, Nadine was sitting there watching television as if nothing had ever happened – she had just ‘woken up’. I couldn’t believe it: my daughter had returned.

In the following weeks, it became clear that there was some memory loss. She had forgotten how to write, which she relearned very quickly, but her math skills were not up to her previous very high standards. Within five weeks, she was back at school

It is the ‘extremely rare situations’ we find ourselves in that can be the most awakening and unsettling. We all believe we have our act together. I believed I had always run my business for my family; I was Dad and partner first, then business owner. I didn’t know it at the time, but that ‘ordinary Saturday morning’ would have a major impact on my family and my business, forever. The systems that grew the business would become vitally important.

The cardiologist’s professional and pragmatic evaluation of the situation also stayed with me said Robert James and James Home Services. The acid test came from the ‘extremely rare situation’ that I found myself in. We all face daily acid tests of our priorities. Constantly balancing family and business life in an unbalanced world is a true challenge.

Hopefully it doesn’t take an ‘extremely rare situation’ to make you evaluate your current position.

Originally Posted:- http://www.robertjameshomeservices.com/dont-wait-until-life-rocks/

[offansandflames]

So this month is apparently my month. May is both Medical Health Awareness Month and Brain Tumor Awareness Month.

Look everyone, I’ve made a thing!

To be honest, I hesitated before posting this, especially since I’m getting to know people much better. I had some shit to deal with, and I was pretty graceless about it at points. I only hope that my sharing this both encourages understanding for people who’ve gone down my path and also brings you all some happiness. Seriously it breaks my heart to hear what some of my loved ones are going through, and I want them to know that even if your world feels like it’s ending, there’s hope.

I thought I had everything planned out at the age of 15. I was going to go to Stanford and become a pediatrician, my life calling. Through high school, I worked roughly 90 hours a week, between school, homework, and my extracurriculars (co-captain of the tennis team, swim, cross-country, National Honors Society, weekly volunteer work at the hospital, and Amnesty International). I even made it on the news, with the title “Future Doctor” under my name. I had a 4.7 GPA and the burning passion of a million suns.

I was literally EN FUEGO. But

Headaches. Horrible headaches. I gained 30 pounds (that’s 14 kg) in a single month, while eating very healthily and exercising vigorously. Then deep as hell depression. And daily hallucinations. I literally felt like I was losing my mind. My blood chemistry levels were swinging around like they were on crack, but no one could figure out what was going on.

My mom (dad was gone) told me I was being melodramatic and looked fat and disgusting as hell. She’d roll her eyes when I’d react to my hallucinations. I went to doctors who reassured me “Puberty is difficult for everyone.”

At the very least, she continued to send me to hospitals throughout the Los Angeles area. Finally, they decide to scan my head to “rule it out.” I lay there with a cage on my face and was serenaded for 40 minutes by what sounded like the mating call of a dozen fax machines.

ADVENTURE TIME ! ! !

I was called back into the hospital (UCLA) in a matter of days, which is strange on account of the fact that most people have to wait months. When I see my doctor there, suddenly a neurosurgeon walks into the room. “Okay, that’s weird.”

He slaps an image of my brain up on the wall, points to it, and says, “You’ve got something there.”

He said it kinda like he was telling me I had spinach in my team.

“What?”

“A brain tumor.”

For a few months, peoples’ attitudes changed. My mom told me about a dozen times a day that I was going to be okay. I think she was reassuring herself more than me. I was a little worried, but more than that, I was happy. It was proof that I wasn’t crazy. And most importantly, there was something in my brain that could be removed. I could actually be normal again! No one understood how much I’d been suffering all along.

By the way, the niceness lasted for a few months. Went away after that, then back into the abuse.

I’m going to take a minute out and say something. I’m sure tons of people reading this have gone through hard times, especially around that age, and were not taken seriously. Listen, I had a fucking brain tumor and was still dismissed. I took it personally and felt like a piece of crap, though now I look back and see how wrong it was. I’m really sorry for those of you in a similar situation. All I can do is advise you not to let that guilt you into thinking your struggles are inconsequential, though I did a shit job of that myself. I love you all.

-ahem- Back into it then…

The physical pain stayed constant, but the psychological issues exploded. I always remember that I’d be standing in a room, then everything in my field of vision became neon. The room would stretch out for what seemed like miles, and my ears would ring so loudly it hurt. Then random shit (looked like humanoid figures) would come out at me. Terrifying.

My mom again insisted I was being dramatic. It was a house of cards, and as it was bound to, it fell. I injured myself pretty badly and was sent to a psych ward (at UCLA) for a week. I was still holding on to that dream of becoming a pediatrician, but in all honesty, I didn’t know if I’d be alive that far into the future.

No one close in my life was supportive. They viewed this as me just being “dramatic.” They diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder in the ward.

My psych state continued to deteriorate to the point that I lost touch with reality. The depression was as crushing as death, and I saw no reason why anyone would want to live. Life was just a pointless dream. I took a bunch of pills one night and was rushed to the hospital by ambulance. I was in a coma for about 3 days and nearly died.

I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit, confused as to how I’d gotten there (I had no memory) but also not really caring. My family was screaming at me about how close I’d come to death, but the most they’d get out of me was a shrug. They sent me back to the UCLA psych ward, and literally, I was sent back to the very same room.

I don’t know how, but through all of that shit, I kept my grades up. I still had a 4.7 GPA when I got out of high school. I scored a free ride to UCLA, the same place where I’d found out about my brain tumor, and the place where I’d been kept in a psych ward twice. Crazy. Meanwhile, the tumor grew and bled into my surrounding brain tissue.

But the depression just kept getting worse, and so did the hypomania that accompanies Bipolar. I kept having blank periods and would wake up in the ICU, again with screaming and crying family members. I didn’t want to die anymore, so I was very upset by this. I wouldn’t even remember trying to take my life, so it literally felt like I just went to bed and woke up in the hospital. That happened at least three times, maybe more.

I got into the drugs (literally the worst ones) and became addicted to them. Bipolar is tricky, and my mood would swing. At some points, I was so depressed and disillusioned. I would often say, “I’m not making it to my 30’s.” I accepted that as a fact. So who cares if I’m addicted to shit? Becoming a pediatrician was a pipe dream. Something’s going to knock me out, either the drugs, my psych issues, or the brain tumor. Whatever.

Then I’d come out of that depressed stupor and realize, “Holy FUCK, what am I doing with my life?!”

Sober up. Then relapse. Then sober up. Eventually, I got so sick physically that I could hardly leave my house. That ended the drug use.

My treatment team was fairly large, and all of them were well renowned. I’d been told by different ones that I was risking going blind by not having surgery. Others said that the surgery was just too dangerous and would itself risk my vision, could lead me to have a stroke, or could, ya know, kill me. One doctor thought I needed my hypothalamus removed, which I previously didn’t even realize was a thing.

I started having something called cluster headaches. These are informally called “suicide headaches,” and are debated to be the most painful medical condition in existence, worse even than childbirth. I spent about 70% of my waking hours having those for months. I thought I’d known pain before. I didn’t know jack shit, but I sure learned fast.

I was then too sick to go to school. It was obvious, but the final straw was when I went to take my finals and passed out on the lawn for several hours. When I came to, my head was screaming, and my vision was blocked by large neon splotches. I told my mom thought I couldn’t go to school the next quarter. She said that if I didn’t work or go to school, I had no place to stay.

Enter: Homelessness!

At that point, I was beyond fucked. I had nowhere to go. For about a week, I stayed on my best friend’s couch. His house was literally a drug den, and basically shit was never farther than a few feet from my head. I started using again, and that was probably the darkest point.

I had no home, was critically ill, had no money or food, and was on drugs. I’d had to drop out of college, and my goal of becoming a pediatrician was laughably far away. Looked like the end of the road.

The homeless shelters were full, and I was totally prepared to get a sleeping bag and camp out under a bridge. Possibly just die there. Thank the lord, my fiance’s family decided to take me in. I lived there for months, not leaving the house even once, not even a mailbox trip. I was in excruciating pain every single day. Ironically, even though I was at my sickest physically, I was recovering psychologically. I wrote stories and loved to play Guitar Hero during what few comfortable hours I had.

I’ll still remember that early 2009, the headaches became drastically rarer. The tumor was growing slightly but no longer bleeding into my brain tissue. I thought, “Oh my god, what if I can finish college after all?”

It was a huge risk, but I flew out to California to finish up at UCLA. I was in horrible pain. I’d study over a puke bucket and with 2 pairs of shades on in the dark, with the text the size of my palm. I was seeing double. It didn’t matter to me that I had a sad story, or if it was “understandable” if I gave up. No one could save me from the consequences of that, so I pushed through.

Every day I walked to class, I passed by the old psych ward I’d stayed at. It just loomed there, monolithic and so tall. It felt like at any moment I’d be sucked back into its gravitational pull. Like being the slightest bit functional was just a brief gift, and I’d soon go back to where I belonged.

I finished my first quarter. Straight A’s.

I was so fucking proud of myself.

Another quarter came and went, and despite all the pain, I got 3 A’s and one A-. Passing by the ward one day, I took the elevator up to the ward’s floor. I wanted to face the past. The thought occurred to me that this time, I was coming here on my own free will. I was here to get an education and improve my life. Ever since that day, when I passed that building, I felt a swelling sense of pride and victory. I was on the right track again. Totally taking life by the huevos.

That quarter they found another tumor on me, in my adrenals. I didn’t let it throw me off much, because seriously nothing could rattle me at this point. I did admit to myself that becoming a pediatrician was not a wise path for me anymore. My health and immune system were too poor to make it through medical school, let alone residency. And even after that, I’d constantly be exposed to pathogens from my patients. Even now, I’m nowhere near healthy enough for that.

So it was time for Plan B. I studied economics, which I didn’t realize until later interested me like crazy.

I graduated from UCLA with a 3.4. It was nothing fancy, but it was by far the greatest accomplishment I’ve ever had in my life. To this day, I am so incredibly proud of myself for that. I know that I can take whatever life dishes out and throw it right back in that bitch’s face.

The recession was deep when I graduated, so I decided to go to grad school. I passed with a 3.7 GPA, and the brain tumor stopped growing. We don’t even know why.

Flash forward to now.

I’m still mentally ill. I take about 7 medications a day. Sometimes I’ll still have hallucinations and cluster headaches. This shit doesn’t just disappear.

My family likes to pretend that they’d been so supportive about the horrible things I’d had to go through.

But the fact is that I’m working a relatively high paying job and am engaged to a wonderful person whom I’ve been with for 11 years. I’ve traveled to twenty different countries (and counting) since I graduated from grad school, one of my greatest life goals. I lost all those excess pounds and am training now to run a half marathon. I’m passionate about life and like to think that I’ve helped some people in life-changing ways. I look back and can’t believe that I made it, but I did.

I went from homeless, penniless, and critically ill to being comfortable, having a healthy relationship, and traveling the world.

What freaks me out is how damned close I’d come to ending it. People tell you “It gets better” all the time. I know it sounds like trite bullshit, but it’s true. You have to be strong and adaptable, but I truly do believe in resiliency of the human spirit.

Nobody asked for my advice, but I went through hell to learn it, so I’m sharing. Never let life take more from you than it absolutely must. If you’ve never been truly tested, you would be shocked at how adaptable and resilient people can be. Don’t give up; as they say, this too shall pass. It’s okay if you don’t have your shit figured out yet, I promise you.

Please don’t compare yourself to others who might have had a “more difficult” life and chide yourself for hurting. You have every right to feel as you do and do not deserve to be dismissed. If you beat yourself up for feeling the way you do, you’ll only be weaker in the end.

Oh yeah, and also...

And for those who need help, I am here.

[perfectly-flawed-for-one-an-blog]

What is the difference between depression and anxiety, you ask?

Well, let’s look at the definitions:

de·pres·sion

/dəˈpreSH(ə)n/Submit

noun

1.

feelings of severe despondency and dejection.

"self-doubt creeps in and that swiftly turns to depression"

synonyms: melancholy, misery, sadness, unhappiness, sorrow, woe, gloom, gloominess, dejection, downheartedness, despondency, dispiritedness, low spirits, heavy-heartedness, moroseness, discouragement, despair, desolation, dolefulness, moodiness, pessimism, hopelessness

What Is Major or Clinical Depression?

Most people feel sad or low at some point in their lives. But clinical depression is marked by a depressed mood most of the day, sometimes particularly in the morning, and a loss of interest in normal activities and relationships -- symptoms that are present every day for at least 2 weeks. In addition, according to the DSM-5 -- a manual used to diagnose mental health conditions -- you may have other symptoms with major depression. Those symptoms might include:

Fatigue or loss of energy almost every day

Feelings of worthlessness or guilt almost every day

Impaired concentration, indecisiveness

Insomnia or hypersomnia (excessive sleeping) almost every day

Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in almost all activities nearly every day (called anhedonia, this symptom can be indicated by reports from significant others)

Restlessness or feeling slowed down

Recurring thoughts of death or suicide

Significant weight loss or gain (a change of more than 5% of body weight in a month)

anx·i·e·ty

/aNGˈzīədē/Submit

noun

a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.

"he felt a surge of anxiety"

synonyms: worry, concern, apprehension, apprehensiveness, consternation, uneasiness, unease, fearfulness, fear, disquiet, disquietude, perturbation, fretfulness, agitation, angst, nervousness, nerves, edginess, tension, tenseness, stress, misgiving, trepidation, foreboding, suspense

Those are the definitions of my life.

Sounds fun, doesn’t it? I have clinical depression, but managing with Zoloft and Wellbutrin. I do have a script for Xanax, the lowest dose available, for times when panic attacks set in. However, Zoloft is supposed to handle both depression and anxiety. You know that saying, Better living thru chemistry? Yah, that’s me.

Interestingly, I was 42 yrs old when my anxiety became so bad that I had to be put on Xanax. It was after major surgery on my foot. I had posterior tibeal tendinitis, or more commonly called, fallen arch. It causes a lot of pain and I waited as long as I could stand the pain before having surgery. What they do is go in by the arch and cut out the stretched or torn tendon and then replace it with a tendon that they take from another part of your leg. Then they fuse some bones on the other side of your foot and put screws into your heel. This is why you have to be non-weight bearing for 9 weeks after surgery. I ended up using a wheel chair instead of crutches or a walker, because not only am I overweight, but I’m also very uncoordinated.

When I had this surgery, I was planning on being off work for 3 weeks. That kept getting pushed out and my manager was not happy about it. I’m sure she was getting some pressure from her bosses as well, but it certainly didn’t help with my anxiety of having to go back to work. At the time, I had moved back in with my parents to save for a house and my mom was going to have to drive me back and forth to work every day. I couldn’t sleep, I would go to bed every night around 11:00 pm and finally fall asleep around 7:00 am and wake up at 9:00 am. Anxiety was awful.

The time came for me to get my cast removed and when the nurse looked at my leg, she asked the dr to come look at it. After he looked at it, he instructed my mom and I to go directly to the ER and have it checked out, he felt I probably had a blood clot.

We went to the ER and sure enough, I had one. It was at the inside of my knee and I had to spend the night at the hospital. I was horrified. Talk about anxiety!!

Oh, I just remembered that I had seen my primary dr the morning of my apt to get my cast off and she told me to be sure to have my surgeon look at my leg. I found out later that she was sure I had a DVT but since I was going to see him that day, she wanted him to look at it for a second opinion. (I was there to see her because of all of my anxiety and not being able to sleep. Since I was due back to work the next week, I wanted to see if she could prescribe some sleeping pills to get me back on track, which she did.)

I got to go home the next day with a prescription for heparin shots and then Coumadin.

That next week I went back to work. First I had to go get my blood checked to see if I needed an adjustment to my Coumadin dosage when my mom noticed how swollen my leg was again. She wanted to take me to the ER, but I was supposed to be going back to work and management was already so upset with me for being out so long that, I didn’t want to not go in. Just by coincidence, the company I work for was having a health fair that day and there were a few nurses wandering around. We were in the kitchen and there happened to be one, and mom asked her to look at my leg. She suggested we go back to the ER to have it looked at. So, now we are going back to the hospital and I’m really freaked out. I told the doctor that I was also feeling like I was having a panic attack, but without the fluttering. He ended up ordering another ultra sound for my leg and a CT scan for my chest. Well, that blood clot from the week before ended up either breaking and spreading, or they didn’t catch just how many there were the first time around. They found that there were clots from my knee up into my thigh and I had blood clots in both of my lungs. Not. Good. To put it mildly.

If you want to know how many friends you have or how many people truly care about you, stay in the hospital for a week, in the cardiac ICU. Well, I actually spent the weekend in a regular room while they monitored me every two hours while I went off of the blood thinners, trying to get my blood thick enough to go into surgery without bleeding out. Once I could go into surgery, I was brought to the cardiac ICU for my remaining stay at the hospital. It’s basically just a big room with a bunch of curtains to partition off privacy. The beds were placed all around three of the walls and the nurse’s station in the middle of the room so they can see everyone at all times. I was in there because I had a vascular doctor performing my surgery and needed to be monitored often. The surgery was done while I was awake, but I was given ‘happy juice’. They stuck a tube into my leg, inside my knee where the clots started, and fed it all the way up into my chest. It was a really odd sensation. I could feel something moving inside me. They also put a stint in to make sure no more clots could get into my lungs and/or heart or even worse, my brain. This tube was like a garden hose that has holes all thru it so you can just lay it down in the flower bed and water your plants. The idea is to have the anti-clot meds going thru this tube and being spread all thru my artery to minimize the clots. I had to have it in my artery for 24 hours. That was put in on a Monday, taken out on a Tuesday and I got to go home on Wednesday. I had been in the hospital officially for a week, having gone in on the Thursday morning before.

During that week the people that visited me were my parents. Period. Both brothers, John and Scott, passed the exit to the hospital on their way to and from work every day, except the weekend. Neither one of them took the time to stop in and see me. To be fair, they did call me, but when you are that close to the hospital, it’s your sister and she’s in there because of blood clots that ended up actually being from her knee to mid-belly and in both lungs. AND... let’s be honest, that’s how a lot of people die... you would think they would want to come to see her. I have two best friends, one had moved to another state, so I didn’t hold it against her, and the other friend had just bought a house and was doing a lot with that. But the reason I really give her the pass is because I know she has a lot of anxiety and it’s hard for her to go to hospitals. I just thought my brothers would have visited me, that’s what truly crushed me. It felt like it proved to me where I stood in their hearts. I’m still not over it, as you can tell. Forgiven them, yes... a few times, and it looks like I have to forgive them again. But it’s nothing I will ever forget.

I honestly don’t know what I would do without my parents. They were my world, my life-line and, honestly at that time, it really scared them because they knew they wouldn’t always be there for me. What would happen when they were gone. Who would I turn to then? Even now, as I’m typing this, I have tears in my eyes. Not just thinking about the thought of not having them, but more about the burden I’ve put on my parents over all of these years. Especially my mom. God has been there for all of us, that’s for sure.

This is my story of when my anxiety became separate from my depression. When I really could tell a difference between both life sucking mental illnesses.

What’s your story?

Do you have one or the other, or both?

Until next time, remember - you are not alone. xoxo

[the-karasu-no-one-knows]

Jason.

After 3 1/2 months at the hospital, I was taken straight to an all girls boarding school. I wasn't even allowed to bring more items from home to the school. My father had taken me on a day pass to check out a co-ed facility in upstate NY and then the one on Long Island (that I eventually went to and graduated from with an A status).

What I was more excited about was seeing Jason over in the village at that halfway house he was at. I had the address and everything and on visitation with my father, we decided to head in that direction so I could spend some time with Jason. I was somewhat familiar with St.Marks place, but not enough. I knew CBGB's and Bleaker Bobs and other record stores and Enchantments, but where he was at, I knew my dad would know.

I was nervous as all fuck because this would be the first time outside of the hospital that I would actually be able to spend time with Jason. The closer we got to that place, the more nervous and sick to my stomach I became.

We finally got to the halfway house and I headed towards the front desk with my dad and brother. I asked for Jason and they called the floor he was at and they said that he would be down. I sat in the day area and waited. My dad knew I was nervous and my brother found that comical. My heart was beating so fast and my hands were cold and sweaty. I was so freaked out inside.

Coming down the stairs, there is Jason in shorts and no shirt and flip flops.

I nearly collapsed! I had never seen him without a shirt on. My dad was also pretty surprised and my brother just laughed. Jason was so excited to see me. He gave me this huge hug and nearly lifted me off the ground. I melted in his arms and felt like fainting. I finally knew what it was like to be near him.

He had this massive smile on his face and told me that he would be right back. My dad had asked me if I knew what my plans were with Jason and that he thought of taking us all out to Vselka's (polish restaurant) for lunch. That sounded like a great idea and I knew Jason would be up for it, after he finished getting dressed.

As he headed down, my dad passed the idea of lunch to him and he loved that idea. Jason grabbed my hand and the four of us headed out. As we all walked, my dad and brother gave us space, which I didn't feel was necessary since I wasn't Jason's girlfriend. Jason held onto my hand so tightly. I couldn't believe that someone as GORGEOUS as him would actually be latching onto me so tightly. I didn't know what to think but I was definitely enjoying the moment.

At Vselka's, my dad and brother sat at a separate table and Jason and I sat at our own. My dad insisted that we have our own table so we could spend as much time with each other as possible. My dad already was fond of Jason, and that took a lot for my dad to think that way about any "boys" interested in me. Jason and I talked and spoke about the hospital and how he kept thinking about me coming to visit.

I couldn't believe that he was feeling this way ever since I was discharged! He wanted to know where we wanted our "relationship" to go from here.

RELATIONSHIP?? WHAT?!! I was still reeling from Matt and that whole fiasco at school and whether or not he would still be trying to contact me (and yes...he was still trying to be with me).

After lunch, we walked around and did a little bit of shopping. He bought me a Siouxsie and the Banshee's cassette and I bought him this shirt from a small shop there in the village. He didn't want me to buy him anything because he felt that I shouldn't and that he wanted to buy me things. Oooh my God I couldn't believe that he had this mindset.

We headed back to the half way house and he told me there that he wanted me to be "his girl". I didn't know what that meant but he felt that calling me "baby doll" was his way of showing that I was with him. At that time, I didn't care what pet name he called me, all I cared about was that I was "his girl".

I was able to see Jason while I attended boarding school. He came to the estate and spent nights at my home in the maid's quarters (which was my sister's room when she would stay over from college). Jason told me that he felt like he could be himself and that back at the half way house, he was the party guy. He was the guy with lot's of girls around him and that he had to live a certain lifestyle while living in the village.

I wasn't the jealous type and I trusted Jason. Plus, my self esteem was so shot that I still couldn't believe that he wanted to be around me so much. I was just grateful that I could make him feel comfortable and that he didn't have to act with me, ever.

We would go for walks at night in my old town. We would go to the beach at night and sit at the edge of the dock and just talk and cuddle. The only thing is that I could not kiss him because I was still traumatized from Matt. Cuddling and holding hands was perfect. In the end, I felt more like his best friend than his girlfriend and that was fine with me. I even told him that being his closest friend was fine and that he didn't owe anything to me.

He told me that was one of the biggest reasons as to why he never wanted to head back to the halfway house. He knew that I had no expectations from him. He just wanted to be around me. He never was pushy with anything. He never asked anything from me, not even a kiss or anything remotely sexual, and I was incredibly happy that way. I told him that I loved him as my closest friend and he told me that that always made him feel safe and secure.

I'll never forget the time he was staying over and I wanted to make sure that he was comfortable and to see if he needed anything. I loved to wear these long elegant night gowns. They were very Victorian looking and all you could see was my feet, hands and some of my neck and face. I was infatuated with Gothic Vampirism (still am) and Badham's 'Dracula'.

This one night I was checking to see if he needed anything before bed. My room was on the second floor and he always stayed in the maid's quarters. As I headed downstairs and past the second kitchen, I crept into the room and he came out of the bathroom in just a towel around his waist.

I stood frozen and stuttered. I asked if he needed anything before bed and that I was going to head to bed. He walked over to me and held me and told me..

"All I needed was you and this moment".

I couldn't speak and all I could say was..

"Thank you".

Such moments were incredibly priceless to me. Even at that moment, he didn't take advantage of me. I knew I had nothing to fear with Jason, ever.

**As I typed that scenario, I had tears well up in my eyes. I could still feel that moment in the back of my mind**

We spent so much time together and we respected each others space and our trauma. We would go to the mall and girls would be staring and he would always play these little games on how many phone numbers he could collect. These girls would look at me with such disdain as he collected numbers. It didn't bother me because he always held my hand as he walked away with phone numbers. He would hug me back and forth as we walked around and shopped. He was the very first male friend that I loved and loved deeply.

In love, I really don't know. I had no idea what being in love mean't since love always came with extreme pain and abuse. Emotions alone were risky. It got in the way of work. Work that not even he knew about, and if he did, he probably would of whisked me away from it all. I bet he would of, but in the end, the mean's to that end would of been catastrophic for him, not me.

**At this time, I had been hospitalized and met Jonas. After graduation, I continued to be a part of Jason's life and he continued to stay overnight at our new home in a few towns over. After graduation, I ended up hospitalized around the same time the actor, River Phoenix died (October 31st 1993). I met a guy, who was gorgeous and wanted to be with me. We would constantly break the rules by making out while creeping into each other's dorm room and leaving our doors open to block the staff from seeing us making out.

John would try to put his hand up my skirt or down my jumper and I asked him to not do that. He would become frustrated but was satisfied with a lot of making out sessions. After I was discharged, I came to the hospital to visit John. We were outside and sitting on the bench we always sat on during our hospitalization together. He tried to put his hand down my jumper and I said no. As I tried to walk away, due to being upset, he grabbed my arm so hard that he dislocated my shoulder. I yelled out loud and ran off onto the grounds. As I waited for my mom to pick me up, I had to figure out how to fix the dislocation. I was able to smash my arm into a tree to knock it back into place. I had no idea how I knew to do that but a flashback sparked the idea. One of those fragmented memories. Neither my mother or father knew of that incident.

Even after John did that, I came to see him at the hospital. He was distant with me and didn't explain why. After he was discharged, he stopped calling me. One night when I was trying to reach him, his father had told me that he was in ICU from a suicide attempt. I had taken my fathers Rosary and brought that Rosary to him when he was taken out of ICU. I gave him my fathers' Rosary, which my mother allowed me to do.

When I found out John was discharged from that hospital and sent back to the one we had met at, his father called me and told me that his son had issues with lying. When John was discharged from that hospital, he headed home and did not call me once. I had called John at home and his father answered and told me that John refused to call me and that he didn't know why.

John called me one night while he was home and told me that he lost my phone number because his house was robbed and they stole the dresser that had my number in it. A friend of mine that I made during my hospitalization and who was still there when John was readmitted, told me on the phone that John was screwing around with one of the female patients when he was readmitted.

My mother was furious that John seemed to be avoiding me and she called his father. The father had told my mother that John was a pathological liar and that I was too good for him.

That night, I overdosed. I don't remember much but I woke up in ICU. Jason had no idea that I was with John and that he had dislocated my arm. I begged my mother and father to not tell Jason that I had overdosed. It would of destroyed him inside**

The saddest part of this story is that I eventually ended up in a very chaotic and rather loveless relationship with someone (not John). I wanted to be with Jason and I had to keep that quiet, even though it was hard to. Eventually the person that I was with found out about our correspondence and that just caused more problems in an already very unhealthy relationship.

A relationship that Jason wanted me out of.

Jason ended up in a situation that caused such harm to him that it landed him in prison. The lifestyle that he led away from me caught up with him and with a vengeance. I pleaded with Jason to stay away from those toxic people but that didn't work. I hadn't heard from him in nearly a month and his father had told me that he ended up in prison.

I was devastated, and so was my mom and my dad. When Jason was able to correspond with me, I cried and told him how unhappy I was in my current relationship and that I felt that he ended up in prison because I couldn't be there for him. Jason would console me over the phone and I would tell him how I missed him. He would send me letters and even those that he befriended would send me letters to say hi and to make sure that I was doing well.

Jason had joined the Latin Kings in order to be safe in prison. They welcomed him due to the fact that Jason was part Puerto Rican. It was really nice how people like 'King Prime' would put a little note in with Jason's to say "Hi" and that Jason was being taken care of and kept safe. Knowing that Jason was being watched over by some of the members made me feel confident that they wouldn't let any harm come to him.

It was in prison when Jason told me he was in love with me. In love with me in a way that he didn't understand. He would send me love letters and poems about love and the love he had for me. He had told me that he felt he was always in love with me and that he had let me down by going to prison. He had never felt these feelings before but the more he spent time with me, the more he couldn't stop thinking about me. It was the first two weeks of being in prison away from me when he realized that he was in love with me.

I was so unhappy in my current relationship and knowing that my closest friend was in love with me, I had wondered if I was in love with him as well. I think I may of been, or at least a part of me was. I was so miserable with my current boyfriend that I just wanted out so badly but I could not run to Jason. I could not be near him and for how long, I never would know.

I would never know because when Jason was out on parole, I got a call one night from his father telling me that Jason never showed up and that he was considered a fugitive of the law. His father was so angry. His father was head of Corrections at a prison somewhere in NY and even he didn't know where his son was. His father was also very angry because Jason was his kidney donor (the father was dealing with kidney failure) and felt that not only would he not be able to see his son again, his son couldn't pull through with the promise of being his donor.

The last I heard from him was in 1999. I've looked for him on Facebook and other search related engines. Nothing. Nothing at all.

I can still see his face in my mind. His smile. His height. His physique. His very blonde short and buzzed hair and those green eyes of his. I don't know if he's alive or dead. I wish he knew how far I have come in life. I wish I could tell him that I am doing well. I wish I could tell him that I never stopped thinking about him.

I don't think about him in a way that he's gone. And gone, as in dead.

There is a part of me that still loves him. Loves him as my long lost friend. A friend that has allowed me to form friendships with other males. Friendships built on trust. Thank you Jason. I will always love you as my very first male friend. A closeness that I believe I have to this day.

[ecotone99]

[RF] Arriving at Empty

Arriving at Empty

Sometimes clarity comes into your life abruptly and inconveniently. As for Erica Sharp, she’d spent two years of her life waiting for that moment of divine intervention. A recent college graduate from the University of Chicago, she worked hard to get everything in life she ever desired. At 22 years old she’d double majored in Biology and Chemistry, earning Suma Cum Laude Honors as one of the top students in her graduating class.

Both the student, and socialite Erica garnered a reputation as the total package. Spending her time wisely between her sorority, pre-med clubs, track, and a family who lived only a few hours away in Elgin. Standing at 5”6 , she ran the 300 meter hurdles as a preferred walk on. The boys around campus would gaze at her gazelle like legs as she moved around campus, the muscles in her legs protruding finely in her short shorts.

“I’m going to take this year off Mom.” Erica announced as they pulled into the driveway of their midsize home.

“All right sweetheart, whatever you want” Erica’s Mom replied reassuringly.

Unpacking the car quickly, they carried everything in within 10 minutes. In the weeks leading up to graduation Erica either donated or sold the things she wouldn’t need in the next phase of her life. Like the matching dresser, nightstand, and matching bed frame from Ikea. Passing them down to a sorority sister. Or the two foot bong that she had purchased during her last semester in school. Now in the hands of friend of a friend who offered her $20 bucks. Part of her wished she would have kept some piece of college with her, though mostly all that remained were clothes, and a collection of books in the sciences.

Laying on her bed, Erica dove into instagram scrolling through pictures of the last few months in college. Clicking into the profiles of friends, many of whom were moving to towns out of state or starting a new career. She felt grateful to not be in their boats. The original plan of taking the MCAT and going to medical school, was now far removed.

Receiving a message from her best friend Samantha Gilcrest, she opened up to see a picture of a thick finance book. Samantha was studying for her CFA, new corporate job. The two were best friends for most of college. During their sophomore year Erica and Samantha lived the most promiscuous semester together. Running around fraternities, it was during the off season for track, when Erica for the first time in her life let down all of her boundaries. Waking up in Jake Lylar’s bed after a homecoming party, was till that point in her life, the slooziest thing she’d ever done.

Seeing that Samantha was active online, Erica took a selfie attempting to block out the floral sheets on her bedspread. The same ones she’d had since high school.

“I miss you!”

Seconds later Samantha responded.

“Trip to AZ in the near future? :D”

“Yes, soon!”

(2 years go by.)

Erica woke up to the sound of her alarm, the same one she’d been hearing since college. It reminded her of the sirens from that old “Pearl Harbor” movie with Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnet. Pressing snooze, she knew she had at least 2 more alarms until she really needed to get out of bed.

Her flight to Arizona didn’t take off until 2:05pm.

By the time Erica had gotten out of the shower, she realized she was running late, again. Time seemed to move quicker than expected these days. In an hour and a half they would start boarding her plane. Elgin was already a 45 minute drive from the airport.

“Mom! Are you ready to leave in 15 minutes?” she yelled out across their family home.

Her Mom did not answer her, she was busy on the phone with Erica’s Dad.

“I’m just worried. She hasn’t even begun studying or preparing for medical school. Her test is in 3 months and now she’s running away to Arizona with her girlfriends.”

“Its all right sweetheart, Erica has a good head on her shoulders. I wouldn’t bring this up before her trip out.”

“She’s not a little girl anymore, she’s 25 now Bill.”

“Be patient, everything will be all right.”

“I hope so.”

Erica made it to the kitchen with her towel wrapped around her like a burrito, grabbing a piece of toast and cup of coffee. She left wet footprints on the floor which her mother noticed and began cleaning up with a paper towel.

“We’ve got to hit the road Erica, we don’t want you to miss your flight!”

“Coming Mom!”

Erica escalated down the stairs causing a earthquake like experience for everyone in the house. Entering the kitchen her hair still wet, she was dressed in jogger pants, an adidas t-shirt, and sneakers. Studying her momentarily, her Mom thought how she hardly looked the part of a Pre-Med student. Attached to her roller suitcase was the teddy bear her mother had gifted her on graduation.

“Still with that teddy bear huh?”

“You got it for me. Whats your problem?”

“Oh just poking a little fun, thats all”

“Ugh. Can we go already.”

The drive to the airport ended up being much quicker than they anticipated. Part of that was Erica’s mothers speeding, caused by the tension in the car. Erica asked her mother for a little extra cash which seemed odd, considering Erica worked three jobs.

Erica’s mother wondered what it was Erica did with all her money? Handing Erica a hundred dollar bill, she remembered what her husband had said about waiting till after the weekend.

In truth, Erica didn’t do anything beguiling with her funds. Her years of smoking weed had stopped as soon as she entered the real world. A few experiences of low level panic attacks helped alleviate the urge to revisit that habit. Instead she enjoyed spending her money shopping for material items such as clothes, jewelry, make up, hair and skin products at the most popular stores online, which just happen to be the most expensive.

As Erica pulled into the departures terminal, she hugged and kissed her mom good bye before strutting through the airport to the priority security check. Her parents had assisted with her ticket too, an expense paid with the expectation of reimbursement one day. Waiting momentarily in line behind a handicap woman with her dog, Erica opened up her instagram and scrolled through pictures of her best friend Samantha and the life she had created for herself in Arizona.

Samantha now worked in a leadership position, and had a very flashy lifestyle. Elaborate dinners, weekends spent in the mountains, nights out at the clubs in Scottsdale, she really seemed to have everything going on. Even her new boyfriend, a few years older than her was attractive. She looked happy.

“So excited to see you!” Erica messaged in.

Turning her camera phone towards her like a mirror, Erica checked her makeup again. Pursing her lips, she looked good, the best she ever had in her opinion.

Erica spent a majority of her flight going through pictures, mostly other people she knew or sort of knew. Her first class ticket got her free wifi, food and drink. Ordering a bottle of white wine with a cheese board she lounged and enjoyed herself.

Posting pictures of herself on instagram, Erica had built a strong following since graduating. Over 10,000+ people followed her, since she began posting bikini pictures with her friends who didn’t nearly have as much time on their hands to expand their audience.Erica worked three part times jobs, each allowing her enough freedom during her shifts. Posting Instagram stories were apart of her everyday rituals, and she was good at it.

Only two years removed from rigorous track, she still had amazing legs though she hadn’t put on her running shoes since walking in the St. Judes Turkey Trot. An event she typically raced and won over the years.

Truthfully told she maybe communicated with 30 people. Those individuals stemmed from her close friends, family, and some coworkers who she kept relations rather short with.

In her mind, Erica knew she wouldn’t remain close with that group forever. The group consisted of about 6 people who worked with her at either the athletic club, the physical therapists office, or the ICU in the small town hospital in Elgin.

Telling herself that she would one day become a Doctor, Erica held herself to a higher standard than that of her coworkers and practically anyone she met. She decided early on that most of the people she worked with lacked direction or capabilities to succeed. When she did communicate with them on social media, it was never more than a like on a picture or a comment.

By the time she landed in Arizona, Erica had posted four stories, commented on 10 photo’s, liked 50 pictures, and unfollowed 5 people. None of the photos she liked were of her coworkers, most were of models or old friends. As much as she’d hate to admit it, Erica’s life fuel came from social media engagement.

Erica rolled off the airplane with over 20 message notifications on her phone which she knew she would not answer for at least another hour. The awareness that people were thinking of her was plenty to get her through seeing her good friend Samantha whose life she hadn’t been apart of outside of communicating over the phone.

Seeing a text message from Samantha, Erica opened her phone while walking through the terminal to see a picture of “Chad,” the Roomate of Samantha’s boyfriend.

“He’s single” she sent over with a winky face.

Focusing in on the photo, Erica examined the attractive brown haired and blue eyed twenty something year old. Grabbing his instagram handle, she looked and found that he, like her had over 10,000 followers. On a few of his pictures he posted advertisements for body lotion and mens hair care.

(Later on that night.)

“Erica, this is John and Chad”

Shaking both their hands, Erica found that Chad wasn’t as attractive in person. He seemed to have a bit more age to his face than his pictures gave him credit for.

Taking tequila shots, the four of them sat around the couch playing card games. Eventually the game turned to “never have I ever.” Attempts by the guys to uncover what they could about the girls, now that they were warmed up with booze.

“Never have I ever fooled around in the car.” John started.

Chad and Erica both put their fingers down. Everyone laughed, Erica blushed.

“You would Erica, you totally would.” Samantha joked.

The guys looked at each other and Erica continued to laugh along, though she knew that only once in her life did she do anything in a car. It was in high school with her boyfriend after prom. In college Erica almost never put herself in compromising situations. She’d only slept with 4 guys in her life, two of them being her boyfriends.

“Your turn Chad” Samantha blurted out tipsily, pouring another round of shots.

“Okay, okay, Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Samantha and John both put their fingers down.

“It was one time!” Samantha signaled with her middle finger at John who’s eyebrows were raised. The group began to laugh. John took a drink of his beer.

“Wow, okay you two definitely keep it interesting over there.” Chad began clapping audaciously.

“No, not with each other. No, no. Haha who did you do it with Samantha?” John asked his girlfriend curiously.

Erica knew the story very well. It happened right after college graduation when they met two Law School students from the University of Chicago. Erica had made out with one of the guys earlier in the evening, but turned decided to go home instead of sleep with the guy. Samantha on the other hand went back with both and the rest was history.

“It was with my boyfriend in college and a girlfriend” Samantha lied.

“Hmph right!” Erica blurted out accidentally.

Samantha’s face turned white, and Erica kew she had messed up though the response was rather unconscious and partially reactive to Samantha’s earlier comments.

“Hmph, then what happened?” John asked rather amused.

“Two guys Chad interjected?”

Samantha and Erica looked at each other and knew the gig was up.

“Okay, it was one time, and I was really really drunk” Samantha pleaded.

The guys stood up and high fives each other on the couch, while Samantha’s head fell into her hands. Everyone laughed and took another shot.

“All right, my turn.”

Samantha looked at Erica and knew exactly what was coming.

“Never have I ever fucked my professor.”

Samantha smiled and locked eyes with Erica who wore a candid look that didn’t fully show the pain and heartbreak she felt. It was her senior year, Anatomy and Physiology both semesters with Mr. Ramstrak. Newly married with a baby on the way, Erica slept with him once first semester and then began a romantic relationship for 4 months before he left her.

“Put it down Erica” Samantha continued.

“You hooked up with you professor? Did you get an A?” John joked.

“Erica always got straight A’s.” Samantha interjected feeling a little bad by the comment.

“Yeah, it was stupid.” Erica answered rather tight.

The group played a few more rounds, though Erica never really got out of her funk. The guys brought out a marijuanna blunt, and began to watch animal planet. Seeing the lions and tigers fight to catch their prey, Erica felt her nerves and anxiety heightened. She opted to sleep on the coach when Chad invited her back to his room.

Sobbing to herself, Erica wondered how she had gotten to this point in her life. *

(The following night.)

Erica and Samantha got ready to go to dinner with the guys. They had not discussed the details of the drinking game. When Samantha asked Erica if she had been crying, she lied saying it was from laughing. Samantha accepted this, and so the girls carried on.

“I think it was a smart move leaving Chad alone like that last night.” Samantha began, while pouring the two of them a glass of wine. They were both in sweats in Samantha’s kitchen, a hour or so before dinner.

“Hey, I don’t know if I’m going to drink tonight. I’m not feeling my best.” Erica answered, her hands on her hips.

“Come on Erica, we never see each other. You always say how shitty your friends are at work. Let's enjoy this time while we have it.”

“Okay.”

Pouring two heavy glasses of pino noir, the girls drank and talked about the guys. John supposedly was really good in bed, and always kept her pleased. Erica felt the wine loosening her up, and began to feel better again.

The four of them went to dinner, and again ordered shots. When the bill came, everyone threw in their card except Erica. She put in the $100 bill and said that was her contribution.

“Oh big spender huh?” Chad asked.

Samantha thought to respond but decided maybe to watch what she’d say.

“I’ll have to get you back somehow for that” Chad continued placing his hand on her thigh.

The group made it back to Johns house shortly after, and after a few drinks the four of them split into two’s. Samantha and John in their room, Chad and Erica in the other.

Kissing each other Erica was turned on by Chad’s sensual touch. Confident and respectful, he never put his hands where they weren’t needed. A little bit older than her, and incredibly handsome she felt a rush of emotions as they laid on his bed. Stroking her hair with one hand, Chad unbuttoned her jeans with the other which she halted.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Thats okay.”

Smiling into her lips the two continued to hold each other close until Erica pulled away. She hadn’t had sex in over a year. Once out of desperation, after Remy Ramstrack left her.

(The next day)

“This was so much fun Erica, so happy you came out.”

Hugging her old best friend Erica and Samantha embraced each other. Erica wore joggers, a nike t shirt, and the same sneakers she started the weekend in. Her teddy bear still strapped around her role backpack. Walking over to security, she checked in and saw her parents booked the flight home in business class. The line moved quickly at the Arizona terminal, so really there wasn’t much of a difference in time.

Getting on her phone, she checked and saw that she had received 40 comments in the last 2 days. The picture she posted of the group already had over 300 likes, which compared to 10,000 followers wasn’t very much. Sitting at her terminal, she scrolled through pictures for a little bit only to find that she had lost some interest in it.

With about an hour to go until her flight, she decided she would grab a coffee, give her Mom a call. When her Mom didn’t answer, Erica sat in Starbucks and went back to social media scrolling. Clicking into facebook she received a notification.

“Today is Remy Ramstrack’s birthday.”

November 9th, of course it was. The deceptive scorpio as she had told herself for the last two years now. Against her best judgement she clicked into her ex lovers profile and found all the evidence she needed that they were officially over.

Remy looked thicker, he had a beard and looked tired. His wife Candice had put on weight from the two babies. Their son Colton, now two years old, and another baby girl Carlyle. Clicking into their shared photo’s she found the only one of them together.

Graduation day, she wore he tight white dress and mothers pearl earrings. Mr. Ramstrack had his doctorate gown on and did not smile in the picture, instead looking a bit uncomfortable. Two years had flown by since he broke up with her, hence her pulling out of medical school applications. Time really had flown by, and in a few short months she would be taking her exams again.

Would she ever move on? She hoped so. Still that nagging voice kept running her around and around in circles. She should have never slept with him in the first place. How could she be so stupid to trust him. How could she ever trust anyone again?

Getting onto the plane Erica felt anxious. There wasn’t a thing she could do that didn’t feel tormenting. It was as if the whole world was conspiring against her. The plane took off to a bumpy start which made matters worse and as she flipped through photo’s on her phone of the weekend, a spike of anxiety hit as she thought again

When the plane leveled out, the service attendant announced that wifi would cost $15 for the full flight. Erica paid without thinking twice, though her wallet was empty.

Posting a picture of herself dressed before dinner the following night, Erica felt content. She knew she looked good and was sure this would be a good one.

“Excuse me, would you like anything to drink?” Asked the flight attendant.

“How much for a glass of wine?”

Raising her eye, the older yet attractive attendant smiled.

“Not letting go of the weekend huh?” She asked with the maturity of someone who had taken this path a fair share of times in her day.

Erica purchased the $9 bottle which ended up being more than $10 with tax.

The touch of the Chablis hitting her lips, felt cool and soon the toxins reached her bloodstream causing all to relax. Her hangover dissipated with each sip and before the attendant reached the back of the plane, her mini bottle was empty.

Clicking the button atop of her she waited for the attendant to return. Wiling to pay whatever cost at this point to get through the flight. As if on cue, she came with a credit card chip scanner and mini bottle of Chablis.

“Thank you so much.”

“First one always goes down the easiest.”

Three hours later Erica arrived home in an uber. Her Mom had to work and Father away on business. Getting out of the Toyota Prius her buzz had all but wore off. Walking up the porch to her home, she began to open the door.

“Excuse me Erica” it was a females voice.

Turning around, Erica saw the stern face of Mrs. Ramstrack.

“Oh hello, Hi you’re Mrs. Ramstrack right? I think we met at…”

Watching her steps, Mrs. Ramstrack approached Erica, ignoring her words until she stood directly underneath her at the front porch.

“Erica, did you sleep with Remy?”

“Did I sleep with Mr. Ramstrack. No, of course not he’s my teacher.” Erica defended herself earnestly.

“Okay.”

Turning around, Erica began her decent back towards the minivan parked down the street, Erica could see the pain in her eyes. The pain of someone who needed answers, Erica knew that pain because she had felt it everyday for the last two years.

“Wait, Candice!”

Erica now in a light jog over found herself now within arms reach. She’d only met Candice once during the awkward photo they’d taken at graduation. Erica did not know it but Candice had been suspicious of Remy. During her last 4 months of her pregnancy, Remy had only one class to teach, so that the could spend more time with Candice.

On his longer days, he often times said he would spend time with students prepping for medical school. A feat, he himself never completed, though he did get his doctorate.

“Is there something you want to tell me Erica? Were you screwing Remy too?”

“We did sleep together yes.” Erica found herself say.

Shaking her head, Candice laughed a bit. A kind of crazy laugh, an unhealthy but necessary one. Biting her lip, she looked like she could have hit Erica right there.

“Do you know how much I could fuck you up for this? What do you think your school would have to say about this?”

Candice asked brokenly.

“I don’t know.”

“You’d get kicked out of medical school today.”

“Erica?”

Erica didn’t want to answer the question. How could she tell Candice that she hadn’t ever enrolled in medical school? What good would come from it, she didn’t know. There wasn’t anything good that could come from this situation. She needed time, time to get away, to escape this drama. She needed reassurance, some kind maybe from her instagram. Nothing could be right in this moment, and she cursed herself for leaving the porch to pursue this conversation.

“He’s cheating on me again” she continued. “The girls pregnant, can you believe that?”

“Oh my god. I don’t know what to say”

“Oh my god is right. Fucking ass hole.” Candice rolled her eyes, showing some acceptance in her current circumstances.

“I’m sorry” Erica responded.

“No don’t be sorry. Be grateful that you don’t have to deal with what I do now. If it weren’t for this other girl, I’d be bringing you into court to testify. I’m taking full custody of the kids and letting you off the hook. This is just for me, so that I know I’m not the crazy one.”

Candice began to break down a bit, and walked away. Getting in her red mini van, she drove west toward the freeway, back into the city. She was about two blocks down the street when Erica felt the urge to break after her.

First in a slow jog, and then in an all out effort Erica began to chase down Mrs. Ramstrack. Missing every crack and divot on the side walk she knew the road well, and was making headway on the red minivan about half a block away. Moving in full form she was restrained from the sneakers, joggers, and t-shirt which were all made ironically from sports company’s.

The Adidas were loose and came off on the sidewalk, leaving her feet bare. Her joggers weren’t flexible and so by nature, ripped in the back. As for her nike shirt, it was already a crop top and rose high above her ribcages, exposing the pink sports brah underneath.

A group of boys on the other side of the street watched on their bicycles as the “hot neighbor” ran full speed out of her clothes. Erica didn’t even notice or care, she was past caring about other peoples opinions. The red minivan, now half a block ahead of her was making a turn that subsequently led to the freeway, back towards the city.

Passing each house in only a few steps, Erika was losing speed. Fatigue setting in, she knew she needed to break through this barrier for herself, for the person she once was. No more than 50 meters away, she locked in on the red minivan making a right turn to get onto the freeway. All that stood between her was a 4 foot bush, which was half a foot higher than a hurdle and more length to clear. As she crossed over into a neighbors front yard, she had one shot to meet Candice. Throwing her cell phone to the grass she used all her strength, hurdling herself into the air.

Landing gracefully on the other side of the pavement, Erica ran into the side of the van, startling Candice. Rolling down the window, Candice looked shocked and scared to see Erica who looked a mess.

“You’re not the only one he hurt here. What can I do to help?”

submitted by /u/Shortfunnystories [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2NYRmkf

[officetime02-blog]

After newborn's life-threatening illness, mom warns about common virus

© Courtesy Shanisty Ireland A year after being hospitalized for RSV Adam has no lingering effects. But mom Shanisty Ireland is cautious about who she lets her kids be around during cold and flu season. Most people have not heard of respiratory syncytial virus, or RSV, but if you're caring for infants or the elderly this time of year, it's a bug to be aware of: it's common and it can be deadly.

A couple in Metairie, Louisiana, is speaking out about the infection after their 14-month-old daughter spent three days in the ICU due to pneumonia, adenovirus and RSV.

"Out of the 19 rooms they had in ICU, about nine had children positive with RSV," the mom told WWL-TV, her local news station. Her daughter's condition improved and the family was happy to be back home for the holidays.

Shanisty Ireland had a similar experience nearly two years ago when her newborn son suddenly became very ill. Her oldest children Luke and Eden kept passing illnesses back and forth. The constant coughing, sneezing and slight fevers were exhausting. At first, she thought her 5-week old son, Adam, was protected from the infections because he was breastfeeding. But suddenly, his condition became increasingly worse.

"He threw up on my dad. It wasn't just spit up," Ireland, 35, of Columbus, Ohio, told TODAY. "He wasn't opening his eyes and he was really starting to have that labored breathing. His head was bobbing; you could see his rib cage when he sucked in."

© Courtesy Shanisty Ireland After Adam's scary experience with RSV his mom Shanisty Ireland let researchers at Nationwide Children's Hospital take blood samples to help them better understand the virus.

Panicked, she rushed Adam to the pediatrician. A nose swab revealed Adam had respiratory syncytial virus, or RSV. For most children, that simply means mild cold-like symptoms for about a week. That's what Ireland thought it was when the doctor sent them home.

But after a few days, Adam was sicker, developing a fever and other alarming symptoms.

"He didn't have a wet diaper and he wasn't eating at all," she said.

The pediatrician urged her to take the baby to the emergency room.

"Everybody who was working with him and speaking to me was dressed head to toe in masks. I was thinking, 'I still don't even know what RSV is,'" Ireland said. "It was very scary, especially because his fever started spiking."

© Courtesy Shanisty Ireland When Shanisty Ireland took 5-week-old Adam to the hospital for labored breathing because of RSV, she had no idea how sick he was.

Adam received IV fluids, nose aspirations and breathing treatments. Doctors said the infant needed to stay in the hospital until his health improved.

"It was terrifying," Ireland said.

What is RSV?

While not well known, RSV is a viral infection that appears commonly from October to April each year.

"Respiratory syncytial virus is one of the more frequent viruses that all of us can suffer from," said Dr. Octavio Ramilo, chief of infectious diseases at Nationwide's Children Hospital in Columbus, Ohio.

Almost all children catch RSV before they turn 2, but for most, it's a mild respiratory illness, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

The body doesn't develop antibodies against RSV, which means people can have it multiple times in their lives. In older children and adults, RSV leads to sneezing, coughing, runny noses, much like a common cold. Most people feel better in about a week. But in some infants, RSV can be deadly.

"Three, 4 percent, they get so sick that they need oxygen," Ramilo said.

It's unclear why RSV is so serious for some children, though it more severely affects babies born prematurely, babies with asthma or chronic lung conditions, or babies under 6 months old. RSV starts with "a runny nose, mild cold." By the third or fourth day, some infants struggle to breathe, lose their appetite and run a fever.

"The symptoms start very mild and all of a sudden they escalate and parents might get surprised by it," said Dr. Fariba Rezaee, a pediatric pulmonologist at Cleveland Clinic, who did not treat Adam.

© Courtesy Shanisty Ireland Shanisty Ireland had no idea how dangerous RSV could be for her infant son. After he was hospitalized last winter for RSV she shared his story to help others.

Common symptoms of RSV:

Rezaee said parents should seek help if their child:

Develops a fever

Is under 3 months old

Wheezes

Struggles to breathe or belly breathes

Has a cough that does not improve over time

"Wheezing, shortness of breath, those are the symptoms to right away seek help for," she said.

Ramilo is researching a possible vaccine for RSV. It is challenging because the vaccine needs to be attenuated so it doesn't cause the illness, but strong enough to produce antibodies for the body to defend itself. His group has been using blood samples from babies like Adam to better understand how RSV acts in the body.

"It is not an easy process. It requires a lot of testing," he said.

There's no treatment specifically for RSV. Most of the medicines simply quell the symptoms, which is why "prevention is really important," said Rezaee.

To prevent spread of infection:

Wash hands for at least 20 seconds.

Cover mouth when coughing or sneezing.

Avoid crowded places during cold season.

Clean off surfaces, such as counters or door knobs (the virus survives for a few hours on surfaces).

Refrain from touching nose, eyes, and mouth.

Adam recovered after four days in Nationwide Children's Hospital. Ireland shared his story to help others learn more about RSV.

"I didn't recognize how serious it was until it was almost too late," Ireland said. "RSV can hit any child and any person at any given time. I would really love for people to understand that and know what the signs are."

Source: http://www.msn.com/en-us/health/health-news/after-newborns-life-threatening-illness-mom-warns-about-common-virus/ar-BBRusRW?srcref=rss

[alikhoynezhad-blog]

44 Patient Reviews for Dr. Ali Khoynezhad, MD, PhD

"I was referred to Dr. Khoynezhad by my cardiologist due to the complex procedure needed to repair my aortic root. I had my aortic valve replaced with a mechanical valve and ascending aorta graft in 2004. My last check up the root had enlarged. An appointment with Dr. K explained the procedure and the risk. I scheduled my surgery at Long Beach Medical Center. Dr K saw me every day I was in the hospital. I am so glad I was referred to Dr. K and his staff for my surgery. After 9 weeks, I am back to work feeling great.

Thank you to Dr. Khoynezhad, office staff Laila & Rebecca, and Long Beach Medical Center. "

-- William Hayes, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, Maze Procedure, 02/27/2018

"Dr. K. and staff did a fantastic job prior, post and the surgery it self. The procedure was thoroughly described and all questions addressed in a manner you could understand. Dr. K has a great sense of humor that makes you feel at ease. The operation for me was easy with little pain and a fast recovery and rehab. I highly recommend Dr. Khoynezhad and staff and thank them for a successful surgery."

-- Fred (Skip) Hayward, Aortic Valve, Transcatheter, Root Replacement, 11/01/2017

"Dr. Khoynezhad is professional, extremely competent, knowledgeable and easy to talk to. He is willing to answer all questions and surrounds himself with staff that has the same attributes. This is very important when facing open heart surgery that you have complete confidence in your medical team. "

-- James Belford, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, 02/08/2016

"When I found out in October 2015 that I needed to have my aortic valve and root replacement, I did much of my research here on Adam Pick's website www.HeartValveSurgery.com. I found the site to be very helpful!

I very quickly attracted to Dr. Khoynezhad through his video and bio as an expert and with aortic valves. Through his video, he appeared to have a sincere, calm and poised demeanor. I took a very small leap and chose Dr. K as my surgeon. After our first appointment, I was most impressed and everything I had read about Dr. K from the testimonials was confirmed. Not only is he one of the premier experts in the aortic value arena, he has a truly sincere demeanor and cares deeply about his patients. Our consultation was unrushed and he took the time to answer all of my questions and concerns in detail. From beginning to end, his staff is very communicative, supportive and friendly.

As for the procedure itself, I couldn't be happier and I'm so grateful for Dr. K's expertise. Being that I'm a relatively young patient (54), I asked if he could perform the operation with a smaller incision as I still spend a lot of time at the beach and in the water. To my great surprise, Dr. K was able to complete my new value replacement and aortic root (graft) with only a 4 inch incision. When wearing a v-neck t-shirt, there is no sign of the incision.

After the procedure, I was awake within 1 hour and sitting upright in a chair breathing on my own after 2 hours. Out of ICU under 24 hours. From there, I was walking the halls of the hospital the next day and released to go home on day 5. Since being home, I've have a very pain free experience and now after 2 weeks, I'm taking 3 - 4 miles daily.

Thank you so much Dr. K for your caring, thorough, precise workmanship and taking the extra time/effort to keep my incision to a minimum!!! I am so grateful to have chosen you as my surgeon. I highly recommend anyone to put your life in Dr. K's hands!!!! He is truly amazing!!!"

-- Alan Godfrey, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, 01/19/2016

"I was introduced to Dr. Khoynezhad and his team by my pastor. My Ascending Aortic Aneurysm was found during a wellness check by my cardiologist, and the rest is history. From my first appointment to my 6 month follow-up, this experience has given me a great respect and appreciation for Dr. Khoynezhad. I thank God for Dr. Khoynezhad. Thank you, God bless."

-- Mike Eddy, Aortic Valve, Tricuspid Valve, Valve Repair, 12/10/2015

"Since the very first moment I met Dr. Khoynezhad during my first consultation, he conveyed not only knowledge, professionalism and answered to all my questions in a very clear way, but most importantly: there it was a very human and warm human being talking to me, in a very welcoming way. To me that counts as much as his knowledge.

I felt I could trust him right away, and 2 weeks down the line he performed my surgery. I had an aortic aneurysm, which can sound quite a scary thing to have, but having Dr. Khoynezhad as my surgeon, I didn't feel as if I was in danger but actually, I was looking forward to my little 5-day-vacation at hospital. And do you know what?? That's exactly how it felt to me. My recovery was much faster than I thought it would be, he personally came to see me and check on me. He CARES!

The very small scar on my chest is almost invisible. Last but not least, I am also very grateful to Dr. Khoynezhad's team: each and everyone of them showed concern and care towards me. Thank you!"

-- Daniel Soifer, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 07/06/2015

"Dr. Khoynezhad is by far the greatest surgeon I have ever encountered. I performed my due diligence in researching and meeting with many, many surgeons to help me decide who I would choose to perform open heart surgery on me (I had an aortic aneurysm that needed to be removed and a bicuspid leaflet valve that needed to be repaired).

The first sign Dr. Khoynezhad was more competent than all the previous surgeons I met with was the fact that he recognized my aneurysm was in fact larger than what any of the past surgeons had diagnosed. I had been hospitalized twice with severe chest pain and high blood pressure in the weeks before meeting Dr. Khoynezhad and continued to have several episodes after my second hospital stay but none of the cardio surgeons I met with from the hospital nor any of the ones I followed up with outside of the hospital properly conveyed the magnitude of my aneurysm nor how urgent it was for me to get it fixed before it ruptured. Despite my pain never subsiding and continuing to experience frequent episodes of faintness and extreme chest pain, everyone but Dr. Khoynezhad told me I could wait a year or so before having my surgery. I kid you not, they did not see the urgency in my deteriorating health and actually told me to endure such horrific symptoms for up to a year - I guess when your diagnosis is way off, it's not surprising for your recommendations to be as well!

Usually I'm very skeptical when doctors are quick to recommend surgery because you always worry about their hidden ($) agenda but I honestly can say this brilliant man literally SAVED MY LIFE! If it wasn't for Dr. Khoynezhad, I may have taken the advice of all the previous surgeons thinking my aneurysm is smaller and less threatening than it actually was and continued without seeking surgery and my aneurysm would have ruptured and I could have been dead right now. How could you put a price tag on such brilliance? On such competence?

Dr. Khoynezhad is as professional and comforting of a doctor as anyone could ever pray for. He is extremely patient and kind both with myself as well as my boyfriend and family. He met with all of my loved ones prior to surgery and spent an ample amount of time explaining everything in detail and answering all of our questions. He never rushed through anything (unlike most hasty doctors these days) and smiled and was pleasant the entire time - and has been consistently this way with every one of my visits and I have had many with him by now. You can just sense his kind, humble nature when you meet him.

On the day of surgery, Dr. Khoynezhad finished removing my aneurysm and repairing my bicuspid leaflet valve both AHEAD of schedule! My boyfriend and family were all surprised when he came out to meet with them as they were expecting me to be in surgery for nearly another hour.

As far as his work goes, what more can I say? There is a reason he is the head surgeon. My surgery was phenomenal and I have been making a very quick and healthy recovery. I feel so much better now that my aneurysm has been removed and blood pressure lowered. I can't imagine how those previous doctors were suggesting I wait an entire year in pain and agony when I should have addressed it immediately. Dr. Khoynezhad came by and visited me several times while I was staying in the recovery room for a few days. He even surprised us by dropping in on a Friday night after 8:00PM just to check in on me and make sure I was okay! We were all pleasantly surprised to see him following up so diligently after all of the bad experiences I have had with other surgeons over the years (for unrelated matters).

Dr. Khoynezhad's staff has been equally competent and cordial. They have followed up diligently and have helped me tremendously every step of the way. I also am grateful to all of the staff and RN's as they, too, are the friendliest, most professional hospital staff I have ever had the pleasure of being cared for by.

I can't speak highly enough of Dr. Khoynezhad and would strongly recommend him to anyone and everyone who may have a need for cardio surgery. You will not find a better surgeon, a better professional nor a kinder soul in this industry of tainted, impatient doctors. I thank you Dr. Khoynezhad for everything - we need more doctors like you!"

-- Tara Scheckwitz, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, 04/02/2015

"Dr. Khoynezhad is everything you want in a heart surgeon. His expertise, experience and ability to relate to the individual patient's concerns made him my top choice.

When searching for the right surgeon for me, Dr. K. called me back personally to discuss my case. Every other surgeon went thru their scheduler or some other go between...some of whom never called me back. Dr. K. explained my condition and educated me on what was wrong, how he would fix it and my outcome. I was very close to an aneurysm in my aorta and didn't know it. Dr. K. expedited my case and saved my life. I heartily recommend Dr. Ali Khoynezhad."

-- Ron Steel, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, 03/09/2015

"I had known about my condition for around 5 years and knew that at some point I would have to have surgery. Knowing this can certainly put a little fear into ones mind. I was born with a bicuspid valve on my ascending aorta which should have a tricuspid valve. Relating to a connective tissue disorder, this can also affect the ascending aorta also.

As a result, I discovered, by chance, that my aorta was dilated to around 45mm. Over the last few years, this increased slowly and the time came where I had to make the decision to go in for surgery. Having been to a couple of different places beforehand, I was Introduced to Dr. Ali Khoynezhad. I was immediately put to ease and felt very comfortable as everything was explained in a good informative manner. My mind was made up and I went ahead and planned the date.

From the day I went in for surgery, till the day I left, only a few days later could not have been a better experience. Having gone in early on a Monday morning for the surgery and before I knew it I was in the ICU for recovery. Later the next day I was in my own room and was already feeling good and looked after very well indeed. Dr Khoynezhad would come and visit everyday and stay as long as needed to answer my never ending questions. Each day I was feeling better and better. I could have probably left on the Wednesday, only 2 days later but I guess I had to be monitored for a little while longer. The results from the surgery were all very good and I had a minimal incision which wasn't particularly painful at all. Obviously I was taking pain killers but I still had expected more and was pleasantly surprised.

I left the hospital on the 5th day having already been up and about everyday before then. On the 7th day I did a steady walk of 7 miles. I was very keen and was advised by the Dr. to keep active. 7 miles was probably not necessary, but I felt fine and was happy to be out again. I would thoroughly recommend Dr. Ali Khoynezhad to anyone needing to have heart surgery as he is one of the best in his field, professionally and personally. Also the staff were out of this world and made me feel comfortable throughout my whole visit. It's been 6 months now since the surgery and I'm doing really well. I've been walking almost everyday since and been jogging for 3 months too.

Where as before where I would easily get out of breath, now I just feel the muscles in my legs working. I'm so happy that I've had the surgery and for anyone worried about it should be put at ease and make an appointment with Dr. Khoynezhad. "

-- Mark Holden, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, 11/10/2014

"Remarkable. Dr. Khoynezhad and his team are incredible. He is a very kind, thoughtful and extremely talented surgeon. The stress of having a second open heart surgery was greatly relieved by having such wonderful communication with the doctor and his staff leading up to surgery.

Now, almost one year later, I've never felt better taken care of. I feel I am alive today because of Dr. Khoynezhad's vision of how a heart patient should be treated."

-- Deborah Goodwin, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Median Sternotomy, Root Replacement, 07/31/2014

"My experience was wonderful - Dr. Khoynezhad has an amazing bedside manner and made me feel like I was in the best hands. I never had any doubt that the surgery would go well. He gave me undeivided attention, explained exactly what would happen before, during, and after surgery.

HIs staff was also amazing -- especially Mihaela his PA. My wife was able to easily communicate with Mihaela through email and telephone messaging. I would HIGHLY recommend Dr. Khoynezhad. And, the surgery went VERY WELL and 8 months later I am doing fine. "

-- Harold Green, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 07/21/2014

"Dr Khoynezhad is the most amazing surgeon. He is very approachable and eager to answer all questions you may have. He is very reassuring and comforting. He is very knowledgeable and explains everything in detail in the manner you can fully understand.

When you shake his hand you know you have the right man. I can't say enough to express the gratitude that I have for him and his helpful staff and I would never go anywhere else."

-- Aaron Youngreen, Aortic Valve, 07/07/2014

"I can't say enough about this great man, from bedside manners to the results of my surgery. Great experience with Dr. Khoynezhad."

-- John Stimpfig, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, David Procedure, 06/05/2014

"Dr Khoynezhad takes time to sit & answer all questions in a forthright, comprehensible manner. He is available at all times. My surgery went well & I was pleasantly surprised to be active in a very short period of time. I was going up and down stairs as soon as I got home!"

-- Polly Businger, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 04/29/2014

"From the moment I met with Dr. Khoynezhad I knew I was in competent hands. He explained my surgery so I could understand and answered all of my questions. I had an ascending aortic aneurysm and Dr. Khoynezhad and his team saved my life. I saw him everyday after my surgery and he always had a smile and a kind word of encouragement. My sternum was completely opened, yet my incision is only in the cleavage of my breasts.

Incredible!!!!!!!

I saw him today for my six month check up and I am very healthy.I went back to work 8 weeks post surgery. I will recommend Dr. Khoynezhad to anyone who needs Heart Surgery. He is beyond amazing and the doctor who will save you or a loved one. He saved mine."

-- Mary Shannon Jones, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 03/11/2014

"After a shocking diagnosis of a 6.5 cm aneurysm on my aorta, I was referred to Dr. Khoynezhad for surgery.

I really cannot say enough great things about Dr. Khoynezhad. He immediately made me feel comfortable about the upcoming surgery and took the time to answer all of my many questions. He even scheduled a follow up meeting before surgery to answer some of my additional questions. His nurse Mihaela was also a joy to work with. It's now been just over 7 weeks since my surgery and I am back to work and back to doing my cardio at the gym.

In my follow up appointment after surgery, Dr. Khoynezhad was also fantastic at answering my questions and making sure I was given the right information to have a perfect recovery. I am extremely pleased I chose Dr. Khoynezhad for my surgeon."

-- Mark Eisenberg, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 02/10/2014

"I had three procedures, aortic valve replacement, aortic root and 1 CABG.

Dr. Khoynezhad and his staff are very professional and available to answer any pre and post op questions. It's been 2 months and I feel well and am able to walk briskly for a mile or more with not problem."

-- C. Hendrix, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Median Sternotomy, Root Replacement, 01/21/2014

"Dr. Khoynezhad fixed my aortic aneurysm on December 17, 2013. By February 1, 2014, I was swimming again. He is either a genius, a magician or a Michaelangelo, or all three.

I always felt like I was in the best possible hands. And, that if fate intended it, Dr. K would make sure I lived to see my grandkids and maybe their kids too. He and his surgical team were compassionate, intelligent, available and just a pleasure to know and be treated by."

-- Ted Green, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 12/17/2013

"Dr. Khoynezhad explained my condition in easy to understand terms. He detailed the procedures, took the time to answer my and my wife's questions, and addressed the psychological impacts of this type of surgery. He quickly gained my confidence. He visited me twice a day after the surgery. I highly recommend Dr. Khoynezhad if you're considering CT surgery. It's been over a month since my surgery. While I'm still recovering, my strength is returning. I'm sure that this procedure saved my life."

-- Michael Van Nordheim, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Root Replacement, Maze Procedure, 12/03/2013

"I had an aortic valve replacement and triple heart bypass.

Dr. Khoynezhad has done more than 2,000 such procedures. I rate the overall care by Dr. Khoynezhad as "Excellent". The doctor took considerable time with me pre-op and post-op. I am 80 years old, back at the gym and now back to excellent health. "

-- Arthur Porter, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Root Replacement, 10/28/2013

"Dr. Khoynezhad did a great job. Feel wonderful two years after the procedure No problems at all. I highly recommend him."

-- John Chapman, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, 09/27/2013

"Hands down one of the best surgeons you could work with. Ali and his team made one of the most complicated surgeries seem easy. My recovery is ongoing and progressing well. The nurse staff is also excellent. "

-- Chris Magnuson, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Median Sternotomy, Root Replacement, David Procedure, 09/03/2013

"My experience was amazing. I totally recommend this sugeon. "

-- Francisco Marrari, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Transcatheter, 07/02/2013

"I was very fortunate to be referred to Dr. K and his team. Not only is he a great surgeon, he was great at explaining the procedure and why I needed it. When I first saw him, I got cold feet and didn't get the procedure I needed -- which was a David Procedure for an Aortic Aneurysm. He made sure I saw him for a follow-up. When I got cold feet again, he asked if he could speak to my wife. That did it, and it is a good thing I had it done when I did, because my Aorta was "paper thin" in spots. The Nurse Practitioner is great. When you have a question or concern she calls back on the same day and will spend as much time as you need to explain the what and why of your question. Also, I had a few complications after surgery, and am I glad Dr. K was my surgeon. Not only did they fix the complication, but Dr. K did an outstanding job reassuring my wife that everything was going to be fine. Open heart surgery is certainly no walk in the park, but if you need it have it done by Dr. K. I am a very active person, and after a week I was walking a block and at 2 weeks 15 minutes. It has now been 3 1/2 months since my surgery, I'm walking 45 minutes and lifting light weights at the gym. Oh, and people are amazed at my scar, you can barely see it!"

-- Joe Nestor, Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 04/22/2013

"Dr. Khoynezhad is wonderful, kind, caring and informative. I had an aneurism on my aorta, near my heart, that had to be removed. Part of the aorta was replaced with an artificial tube, in addition to a valve replacement. The surgery was very successful and the follow-ups have been great. He is blessed with special gifts of knowledge, talent and a gentle soul. His staff was nice, courteous, lovely, and caring. Dr. Khoynezhad made it a point to advise my four sons to be checked, as well. This pre-cautionary advice was taken seriously and all four of them were checked, due to family history. "

-- Eleanor Rivas, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, 04/15/2013

"Dr. Ali Khoynezhad performed the David Procedure on me and did an exceptional jobs. He repaired my bicuspid valve and removed my ascending aortic aneurysm. I was out of the hospital in 4.5 days and my recovery is going very well. He is extremely talented, humble, and was always willing to spend as much time as we needed answering any questions we had. I believe him to be one of the very best in the county at this procedure. His staff is wonderful and the ICU nurses were great. His Nurse Practitioner, Mihaela, was comforting and a great asset to my wife and I throughout this entire process. I highly recommend that if you have a valve or aortic issue and might need surgery you contact him as soon as possible."

-- Scott Reiber, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Mini Sternotomy, Root Replacement, David Procedure, 02/25/2013

"The specific procedure was for a aneurism on the ascending aorta... For such a complicated surgery, the post operative time was very pain free and problem free. I was very, very pleased and had no complications with the surgery at any time to the present which is now almost ten months later.

Dr. Khoynezhad and his staff were exceptional. Everyone involved took the time to answer any questions I had and were kind, comforting and helpful. I would highly recommend Dr. Khoynezhad based on my experience with him and his staff."

-- james engstrom, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, 11/07/2012

"Excellent surgeon! He explained the very complicated procedure in a way that was understandable and comforting. I was very lucky to have Dr. Khoynezhad perform my operation. I recovered very quickly and I am doing everything I did before I was diagnosed."

-- John Wehrly, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, David Procedure, 09/10/2012

"Dr. Khoynezhad was top notch. I saw him in early July and had my surgery two weeks later. Earlier in the year, I had been diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm. I received some conflicting information from my original cardiothoracic surgeon and found out the the aneurysm was growing in size and needed attention soon.

After doing a large amount of research online, I reduced the number of potential sites for the surgery to four. Dr. Khoynezhad was the closest and I met him first and was very impressed. I scheduled the surgery immediately. I had a number of side effects immediately after the surgery including arrhythmia, blood sugar problems, extremely painful back spasms and fluid buildup in the chest cavity.

As a result, I took a bit longer in the hospital than originally hoped for. In the following months, I developed a ventricular pseudo aneurysm (which was repaired by Dr. Kar who was a colleague of Dr. Khoynezhad) and had lingering arrhythmia problems.

However, one year later, I celebrated the anniversary of the surgery with a 15 mile hike that included a 3,000 foot change in elevation in the Sierras. The only medications I currently take are fish oil, a vitamin tablet and one baby aspirin a day.

On my last annual visit, Dr. Khoynezhad told me that I wouldn't need to see him again for two years and that the tissue valve they used to replace my original valve was doing much better than expected. Consequently, I would probably not need the expected replacement as soon as I was originally told. I was and continue to be in very good hands with Dr. Khoynezhad."

-- Brent Shenton, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Mini Sternotomy, Root Replacement, 07/17/2012

"Dr. Khoynezhad is a fabulous person in addition to being the best surgeon I could ever hope to have. He gave me confidence and he has an excellent bedside manner. I am a lucky person. I never worried for one minute about the outcome. I just knew Dr. Khoynezhad would do an excellent job. It is one year since my surgery and I take no meds at all! All the nurses were great too. I am a very happy man and have added their names to my list of wonderful people I admire most! Thank you doctor Ali. And thank you again! What could be better in the world than being excellent at helping people save their lives. God bless you! You are the BEST!"

-- George Jones, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Root Replacement, David Procedure, 07/12/2012

"From the diagnosis on through surgery and after, Dr. Khoynezhad has been so incredibly supportive. He explained everything all along the process and always listened & listens to me & my concerns. I completely trust him and find him to be incredibly knowledgeable yet human. He is so supportive of my needs still. His staff are awesome and professional and very humane. My surgery was a success and my recovery has been monitored so professionally yet humanly by Dr. Khoynezhad and his staff. And least important but a plus is the fact that my scar is so minimal which shows their surgical skills."

-- Danny Ray, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, David Procedure, 06/25/2012

"At age 52, I was diagnosed with a 5.45cm ascending aortic aneurism after an accidental fall that broke 3 of my ribs. The CT scan had revealed this silent but deadly monster lurking just behind my rib cage. It was speculated the aneurism had probably been there for years and I was told consult my primary physician about future treatment.

My primary physician encouraged me to find the best qualified surgeon I could because the procedure is highly specialized. From a Google search I found an aortic aneurism program at Mount Sinai in New York. Mount Sinai recommended Dr. Ali Khoynezhad, at Ceders-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles as expert in this very difficult procedure. After setting up a initial consultation with Dr. Khoynezhad and his staff, my wife and I most were most impressed with his caring nature and his ability answer all of our questions and concerns about my condition and the procedure ahead.

The David Procedure, as it is called, was about 5 hours in length and totally successful. Dr. Khoynezhad was able to repair my aortic valve rather than replace it with an artificial one. My aorta was replaced all the way up to the arch with a Dacron tube.

Looking back on the experience 15 months later I think the following moment sums up the type of surgeon and person you are placing your trust in when you choose Dr. Khoynezhad. At the end of our first meeting with Dr. Khoynezhad and his nurse practitioner Mihaela te Winkel, Dr. Khoynezhad shook our hands and said, "We're going to be friends for life." He was right and we are so fortunate to have found him."

-- Jeffrey May, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Mini Sternotomy, David Procedure, 05/14/2012

"Exemplary communication both before and after surgery. Results with Dr. Khoynezhad are excellent and follow-up care has been thoughtful and professional."

-- William Alderson, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, 04/09/2012

"Dr. Khoynezhad was awesome. I wish wish all doctors had the "bedside manner" and enthusiasm that he and his staff do! Surgery was successful, with no major complications."

-- John C., Aortic Valve, David Procedure, 03/05/2012

"Dr. Khoynezhad did an outstanding job. He explained everything thoroughly before the surgery. His bedside manner is charming and the surgical were all that could be desired. I have follow up visits with him or his assistant every year. I was totally satisfied with my experience with Dr. Khoynezhad."

-- John Thornbury, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, David Procedure, 02/13/2012

"I would like to strongly endorse Dr. Ali Khoynezhad for the extremely high quality care I received when Dr. Khoynezhad’s team performed a Bentall open heart surgical procedure on me in February of 2012.

This surgery was performed to resect a 6.5 cm ascending aortic aneurysm and replace my aortic valve. The surgery was complex, and included hypothermic circulatory arrest. The surgical outcome was excellent, and the entire team took time to answer all of my questions before the surgery, and provided excellent post-operative care both in the coronary ICU and when I was moved to the coronary care unit. The nursing staff also did a superb job in my post-operative care.

I returned to work a little over 3 months after the surgery and I enjoy an active, full life that includes daily bicycling as well as hiking in the mountains on summer vacations."

-- Richard Chadwick, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Median Sternotomy, Root Replacement, 02/02/2012

"Dr. Khoynezhad is wonderful, friendly, caring and truthful. He has excellent staff and follow-up care. We even looked at lab results on his phone together."

-- Kathy Williams, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Root Replacement, 02/01/2012

"Dr. Ali Khoynezhad will always be near and dear to my heart. Pun intended! Dr. K performed the David Procedure on me flawlessly. The best thing about Dr. K is how confidence inspiring he is. Every step of the way -- before and after the procedure -- Dr. K was always correct in his diagnosis of my status whenever there was an issue that came up. I'm 45 years old and have resumed my fully active lifestyle including basketball, mountain biking, weight training, and training for the LA Marathon. I would be happy to speak to anyone about my experience with Dr. K. He and his staff will take excellent care of you! "

-- Jared Underwood, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, 12/19/2011

"Great experience from beginning to end. Clear explanation of procedure and what to expect. Excellent bedside manner. Great team"

-- David Katzman, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, 12/01/2011

"Dr. Ali Khoynezhad is an amazing surgeon. He has a warm and caring bedside manner. What also should be noted was his bedside manner with my family, I was told that was extraordinary. I am very happy with my results and highly recommend Dr. K. "

-- John Feinour, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, Root Replacement, 08/08/2011

"I cannot possibly say enough about the bedside manner of Dr. Ali Khoynezhad not only with me but with each member of my family. Dr. Ali Khoynezhad became my friend and gave me a great feeling of trust. I know the surgery was a success and I am recovering very well."

-- Robert Beren, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, 06/13/2011

"Dr. Ali Khoynezhad and his team went above and beyond the level of care provide to me and my wife by talking to us about the procedure before and after surgery. I was made to feel I was in the best hands possible. Even the care weeks & months after surgery were unsurpassed. The nurses and Doctor Ali Khoynezhad are bar-none the best in the business. "

-- Ken Kline, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, Root Replacement, 03/29/2011

"I was diagnosed with an ascending aortic aneurysm and bicuspid aortic valve in July, 2010. I lived in Colorado, but had lived in California and was aware of the group Dr. Khoynezhad belonged to. After meeting with several surgeons here in Colorado, I flew to LA to meet Dr. Khoynezhad. He was also recommended by my Cardiologist at Scripps in La Jolla, Dr. Roy Avalos. The moment I met him, I knew he had the skills to do the job as well as the warmth and kindness which was so comforting to my daughter. The procedure was lengthy, but totally successful. He was able to repair my aortic valve rather than replace it with an artificial one. My aorta was replaced all the way up to the arch. I was so thrilled to see him at my follow-up visit in December. He is a true rock star to me. Also, I can't forget to mention his wonderful staff and those fabulous nurses in the intensive care unit. I would be happy to talk to anyone wondering about this surgery, the aftermath and Dr. Khoynezhad. "

-- Mary Patricia Power, Aortic Valve, Valve Repair, David Procedure, 01/25/2011

"My experience with Dr. Ali Khoynezhad was very good. He explained the procedure in simple language and answer all questions posed by my family and me. I am very happy with my results."

-- Alan Weisbart, Aortic Valve, Valve Replacement, 12/15/2010

[healthybodymagazine]

How This Mother of 2 Made a Full Recovery After Almost Dying from Toxic Shock Syndrome

  Aimee Haller Follis hardly knew anything about toxic shock syndrome before she nearly lost her life because of it.

Besides reading the standard warning that comes on every box of tampons, Follis, 37, told PEOPLE she hadn’t really heard anything about TSS since grade school, and assumed it was “kind of an old wives’ tale.”

But in May 2017, Follis spent 11 days in the hospital after contracting TSS, an incredibly rare disease that occurs in only 1 out of every 100,000 people, but can can cause organ damage, shock, and even death in 50 percent of cases, according to the CDC.

RELATED: Model Lauren Wasser Had Both Legs Amputated Due to Toxic Shock Syndrome: Are You at Risk?

Follis told PEOPLE she first noticed something was off about her health after moving to a new house in May with husband Matthew and her two boys — James, 5, and Luke, 3 — but at the time she chalked it up to run-of-the-mill exhaustion. Even when she developed a fever a few days later on May 4, Follis still wasn’t concerned, thinking she had most likely come down with the flu.

However, once her fever spiked to 104.2 degrees the following night, Follis knew there was something more serious going on — but she still decided not to seek medical treatment right away.

“Quite frankly, like most women, especially moms, you kind of worry about everybody else and put yourself second,” she told PEOPLE, explaining that she “didn’t want to go to the emergency room on a Saturday night” and thought she’d “tough it out until the morning.”

She also said that she didn’t think much of her fever at the time because “I have two little boys who get high fevers and ear infections all the time and have been fine.”

“Now I’ve learned that adults shouldn’t have that high of a fever,” she added.

But when Follis woke up on Sunday morning, her situation had turned from bad to worse.

“I woke up, and I had trouble walking and I was vomiting,” Follis told PEOPLE, adding that her fever had climbed up to 105.6 degrees. After getting discharged from a nearby urgent care center, Follis and her mother “immediately went to the emergency room,” where doctors quickly realized she was septic and had an infection in her cervix.

But the doctor’s didn’t have such an easy time figuring out what had caused the infection. After two hours of tests and intensive questioning, somebody though to ask whether Follis could be suffering from TSS, after which an OB-GYN was called in to perform a physical exam.

Although the OB-GYN confirmed that TSS had caused Follis to go into septic shock, she says doctors never “found any remnants of a tampon.”

“They have an educated guess that it was from a tampon, although one was never found. Because the infection was in my cervix and I had recently had my period [and used tampons.]”

Want to keep up on the latest from PEOPLE? Sign up for our daily newsletter to get our best stories of the day delivered straight to your inbox.

RELATED VIDEO: How Model Lauren Wasser Overcame Suicidal Thoughts After Losing Her Leg to Toxic Shock Syndrome — and Found Love Again

After Follis found out she was suffering from TSS, she still “had no idea what that meant,” nor did she realize “how serious it really was,” but during her first 48 hours in the hospital, doctors “told my family to fly in” because they weren’t “sure whether I was gonna make it through.”

“Through that first night I was admitted, my fever was still so high, and I was packed in ice, and I was freezing, but they couldn’t put blankets on me because they didn’t want my fever to raise any more because they were afraid I was going to have a seizure,” the mother of two explained.

So for the entire night, her parents, husband, cousin and one of her brothers rubbed her hands and feet — which were the only parts of her body that were exposed — to try and keep her warm.

“That was probably the worst day of my life,” she said.

After four days in the ICU — where she went on to lose her vision after being pumped with so much fluid — doctors told Follis she “was out of the clear as far as possibly dying,” but couldn’t say whether she would make full recovery.

In an effort “to not overwhelm my parents and husband,” Follis’ best girlfriends created a Facebook page for her called “Inspiration for Aimee,” which allowed Follis to receive “countless messages and pictures of support” throughout her stay in the hospital, even though she wasn’t allowed to have that many visitors.

“I looked forward to all of their loving and supportive messages, and they truly lifted my spirits and kept me going,” she continued. “If it weren’t for my family and friends, I truly don’t think I would be here today.”

Although the next 7 days in the hospital were full of their own problems, on day 11 of her stay, Follis was discharged “without being on any medicine whatsoever” — and without “real guideline” about when she could expect to feel normal again.

Following her release from the hospital, Follis couldn’t drive for a month, had trouble sleeping, and then the skin on her hands, feet, and “around my eyes” began to peel off. Two months later, her hair began to fall out in clumps, and she eventually lost 50-60% of her hair.

RELATED: 15-Year-Old Who Suffered from Near-Fatal Toxic Shock Syndrome Is Now Walking and Talking Again: ‘It’s Really Amazing,’ Says Her Father

Although she had been warned by her primary care doctor that these side effects were possible, Follis said “no one could tell me it it was ever going to stop.”

Her primary care doctor also explained why she was continuing to feel side effects of TSS, even though she had been home from the hospital for a while.

“He basically just said, how quickly this infection comes on is essentially how quickly it can leave your body, but because of that, your other organs are the first things to repair themselves and your tertiary type things, like your skin and your nails, or your hair are the last. Because they’re not as important to your body, that’s why there’s such a delayed reaction,” she added.

While Follis said her hair stopped falling out and began to grow back at the end of 2017, in September she and her husband got some happy news: they were pregnant.

“We wanted to have another baby, but we ceretainly weren’t planning it because of the year that we’d had,” she said.

But about 10 weeks into their pregnancy, Follis suffered a miscarriage.

Although doctors said there wasn’t a medical link between her TSS and the miscarriage, Follis said she felt like it was her body’s way of saying it still needed time to recover.

RELATED: What Toxic Shock Syndrome Survivor Lauren Wasser Wants Women to Know About Tampon Safety

As she continued to recover from TSS, Follis said she felt “isolated” because not only did it feel like “nobody else had been through this,” but some people who had the disease went through “even more tragic experiences than I did” she explained, referencing Lauren Wasser, the model and activist who lost both of her legs to the disease.

Asked what she wants others to know about TSS, Follis explained that people should “pay attention” to their bodies because timing is important when it comes to sepsis.

“You can be essentially fine and several hours later you can be dead,” she remarked, adding that she had been told if she “had gone back to bed and waited another hour to come in, then I wouldn’t have survived.”

She also encourages those who have dealt with TSS to share their stories.

“I’ve had so many people reach out, strangers from all over the country and even other the world to say, ‘I knew somebody who had this story, thank you for sharing’ or ‘I had no idea.’” the mother of two said, adding that before her own experience with the disease, “I had no idea either.”

In fact, Follis didn’t think to share her story until she happened to see a TV special about TSS survivor Audrey Leishman — wife of professional golfer Marc Leishman — and her Begin Again Foundation.

“She was talking about her battle three years ago and it was almost like I was looking in a mirror,” Follis said. “I was so moved and so touched by it that I immediately called the organization and said, ‘this same thing happened to me — what can I do to help and raise awareness?”

“If it weren’t for someone else sharing their story, I would never have been able to share mine,” she said. “If I can help save somebody else, that’s what I was meant to do.”

source http://www.health.com/syndication/pennsylvania-mother-toxic-shock-syndrome-recovery

[kidsviral-blog]

Eric LeGrand's Biggest Fight

New Post has been published on https://kidsviral.info/eric-legrands-biggest-fight/

Eric LeGrand's Biggest Fight

Four years ago, the promising Rutgers defensive lineman was paralyzed from the neck down during a game. Now he’s battling to win back his body while becoming an inspiration to many.

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The Associated Press

This has been published in conjunction with The Big Roundtable.

Ever since he was a child, Eric LeGrand’s life was always about his physicality, his body. It still is, but in a new way. This is what happened in the last hours of the life that he once lived:

On the nights before Rutgers University home football games, the Hyatt Regency Hotel in downtown New Brunswick, N.J., welcomes busloads of Scarlet Knight players and staff members for an overnight stay. And on Friday, Oct. 16, 2010, at the Hyatt, the players were hard to miss; each one was dressed in a Rutgers gray-and-red jumpsuit.

Although the hotel is just a few miles from campus, it’s far enough from girlfriends, Friday night parties, and grease trucks (aka food trucks) to help the players focus on the next day’s game. In one of the hotel’s conference rooms, they loaded their plates with food and, before they ate, head coach Greg Schiano led a short prayer.

Eric filled his plate with carbohydrates — lasagna, white rice, and two slices of bread. Then he raced to be first at the blender. It was his pregame ritual: Get to the blender before his teammates contaminate the jar with protein powders, peanut butter, bananas — all of which Eric found unpalatable. His recipe was simple: chocolate ice cream and milk, for a milkshake to take to his room.

The Scarlet Knights were 3–2 on the eve of facing Army at the new, 82,000-seat MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, the home field of the New York Jets and Giants. The game was among the nastiest on Rutgers’ schedule; it was one of only two for which most Rutgers defensive players were required to wear shin guards and long white socks with their uniforms. Eric preferred white mid-calf socks and black ankle braces — his “swag.” He hated the idea of everyone around the country seeing him on television without his usual game-day look.

By October, the soreness had set in from a season that really began in August, and Eric wished he could have a break. His body ached as he remembered the hundreds of up-downs in the sand pit on the practice field and the days of running up and down the stairs of the team’s home field, High Point Solutions Stadium, carrying his 295-pound teammate, Charlie Noonan, on his back. Now, after playing nearly every play on defense, lifting workouts were harder. But for a defensive lineman like Eric, who could squat 605 pounds and bench-press 415 pounds, the workouts were just part of the daily grind that he hoped would lead him to the next level of play. “I was the strongest kid on the team, with all the weights added up,” Eric now says. “I was in the best physical shape of my life, training my body to play in the NFL.”

Eric was 20 and stood 6 feet 2 inches, at 275 pounds. He wore his hair in shoulder-length braids. His smile was infectious. It was not typical for a defensive lineman at his height and weight to also play on special teams. But during his sophomore year, Eric led the team with 13 tackles on kickoff coverage. He was quick getting down the field and unafraid to make a big hit — exactly the type of player Schiano wanted on kickoffs. Heading into his junior season as a rising star for the Rutgers defense, Eric was still in a three-man rotation at the nose guard and defensive tackle positions, but he knew that would end, and he was preparing for a pro career. “In college football, you only need one year,” he says. “I would’ve had my senior year to start and then go off into the draft.”

On Saturday morning, the team boarded the buses and headed to East Rutherford for a 2:05 p.m. kickoff. It was a sunny day with temperatures in the upper 50s. As they did before every game, Eric and his teammate, Scott Vallone, dressed and headed to the field to play a simple game of catch. Eric paused his warm-up routine to say a few words to the television cameras. “We’re here at the Meadowlands, the new Giants stadium,” he said, dressed in a white, long-sleeve Nike shirt, a red “R” embroidered on the neck. “We’re out here ready to go, being focused, and we’re gonna keep on choppin’ all day long.” The phrase “Keep on choppin’” was instilled in a Rutgers football player’s vocabulary — it was Schiano’s way of telling the team to stay focused, regardless of the situation.

The game was a battle from the beginning. More than 40,000 fans were roaring in the stands, including Eric’s sister, Nicole, and Karen LeGrand, sporting her No. 52 red jersey with “LeGrand’s Mom” written in white letters on the back.

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Eric playing in a 2010 game. Photography courtesy of Eric LeGrand

The Knights quickly fell behind, and spent the afternoon trying to catch up. They were trailing in the fourth quarter, when on a third-and-4, Eric filled the gap and stopped the fullback head-on. He got up to celebrate but felt dizzy as he started to head off of the field. He focused, only to realize that he was heading toward the Army sideline. Disoriented, he turned around and headed to the Rutgers bench. He was fine. He did his job.

Rutgers tied the score at 17 each, with just 5:16 remaining. On the ensuing kickoff, Eric lined up in his usual position, next to the kicker, San San Te.

It was 4:46 p.m. Eric watched his kicker’s feet.

The Army returner, Malcolm Brown, caught the ball inside the 5-yard line and started sprinting up field. Eric ran around the outside to avoid his oncoming opponents. At the 25-yard line, he bounced off an Army player and fell to the ground on his left side. He rolled onto his back. His arms dropped to his side and his legs remained frozen in mid-air. After a few seconds, as if gravity was pulling down on his legs in slow motion, he could feel his heels gently hitting the turf.

He struggled to whisper to the trainers and coaches surrounding his rigid body. “I can’t…I can’t breathe.” One of the trainers held his hand, hoping Eric could feel their palms touching, squeezing together. But Eric did not know it.

Within minutes, his mother was brought down from the stands and onto the field. With Nicole by her side and Schiano telling her to “just pray,” Karen watched as Eric was carted off the field on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance that would take him to Hackensack University Medical Center. A paramedic placed an oxygen mask over Eric’s mouth and nose, and everything suddenly went black.

At the hospital, doctors immediately started to prepare Eric for surgery. It would last nine hours, into early Sunday. Doctors told Karen that her son had fractured his C3 and C4 cervical vertebrae and was paralyzed from the neck down, with less than a 5% chance of walking again. They told her he would more than likely need the assistance of a respirator to continue breathing for the rest of his life.

Eric woke up three days later. He was groggy from the drugs and was surrounded by tubes, machines, and wires, but also by his family and friends. He was smiling. “I knew I was hurt but I was just happy to be with everyone, all of these people I hadn’t seen in a while,” he says.

His mother didn’t let anyone in the room who might bring Eric down. She told Eric he had broken his neck and he would need to rehabilitate. Not much more. Weeks passed, and in early November, Eric’s doctors said it was time for him to leave the hospital and begin his recovery at Kessler Institute for Rehabilitation in West Orange. But in the ambulance to his new home, for some reason, Eric’s stomach ballooned. “I knew I wasn’t ready,” Eric says. Still, that night, Eric and his family gathered in his room at Kessler to watch Rutgers play against the University of South Florida, the second game since his injury. During the fourth quarter, Eric started to get restless and anxious. He asked his sister, Nicole, to move his right leg an inch, or his left leg over a little more. Still drowsy, Eric fell asleep. He woke up on a stretcher on his way to St. Barnabas Hospital in Livingston. His fever spiked to a perilous 105.5.

When Eric awakened at the hospital, the fever had ebbed, and his sister was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nicole, where are we?” Eric asked.

“We’re in the ICU, at the hospital,” she replied. “You caught a bad fever.”

Eric wanted to get up out of bed.

“Nicole, get off of me, I want to get up real fast,” he said.

She replied, “I’m not on you, Eric.”

Eric didn’t understand.

“Nicole, get off me! I said I can’t get up,” he said.

Scared and nervous, she told him to go back to sleep. He put his head back, and closed his eyes.

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Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand

By now, Eric knows exactly which way his body will turn during the night: Left side, middle, right side. Back to the left side. Middle. Right. Left side. Middle. Right. Every hour. Every night.

The bed rotates as air leaks out to change its firmness, to ensure that Eric’s body isn’t “falling asleep” while he slumbers. Often we wake up with pins and needles in our arm and can’t completely feel our fingers; the same thing can happen to Eric, except that he doesn’t experience those sensations and he can’t move around to get things back to normal. The rotations are one of the reasons Eric doesn’t sleep that much. The spasms are another.

As the bed rotates, sometimes he can feel them coming. Eric’s legs will kick straight up, uncontrollably. Or his abdominal muscles will contract, forcing the top half of his body upward and pushing him into a seated position. Sometimes Eric tries to fight against the spasms because they can be painful, but they are out of his control.

Mornings are the worst. The bed has been rotating for hours, every hour. Eric doesn’t need much sleep — about five hours a night is enough — but his mom does, so he doesn’t wake her. The nurses and aides don’t get to his house in Avenel, N.J., until 9 a.m. He can’t reach over to his nightstand to get his phone to pass the time. He can’t get up to use the bathroom. He can’t roll over into a new position and go back to sleep — the bed won’t rotate for at least another half hour. He lies there, tossing and turning with his head. It’s all he can do. The inspirational quotes and “BELIEVE” posters on the wall seem to mock him as he lies there, staring at the ceiling.

It frustrates him — the dependence on others, the loneliness, the things in his old life he remembers so vividly but can no longer do.

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Eric at five years old. Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand

Some mornings, there is no sign of the person the world knows: the radiant Eric, speaking in front of thousands at the ESPY Awards, as he did in 2012; the confident Eric, moving himself around in his mouth-operated wheelchair; the focused Eric, concentrating on each exercise movement at therapy.

At 8:15 a.m., Karen LeGrand awakens to her son calling for her in the next room. She no longer works, and she helps take care of her son. He tries not to bother her, but he wants to watch TV before the process of getting ready begins. It takes two to three hours, usually until around noon, before Eric is primed to start his day. His electric bed pushes his body into an upright position, allowing his aide, a young woman Eric’s age named Raven, to slide a sling under his legs. Silver chains connect the sling to a rail system, which looks like train tracks suspended from the ceiling. The harness allows Raven to raise Eric out of bed. His suspended body slides on the ceiling tracks 10 feet across the room to the bathroom, where the lift system lowers him down into a shower-safe wheelchair seat. He does his business in the bathroom and Raven cleans him up afterward. Then she wheels him into his open shower. Raven fixes his hair and brushes his teeth.

His nurse, Clementina, helps to slide Eric’s body back into the sling to bring him back to the bed. Rolling his hips and legs back and forth, Raven and Clementina shimmy his pants up. They pull his arms and head through his shirt. They transfer him from the lift system to his chair. Clementina cleans his ears with a Q-tip and applies some Chapstick to his lips. They fix him up in the chair, making sure everything is pulled and tucked and comfortable. His arms and hands are arranged on the armrests on the side of the wheelchair, and his legs are positioned in place in the footrests.

Clementina attaches his iPhone to the wheelchair stand by a strip of Velcro — his phone is his lifeline to world, since he can no longer just get up and go places. She puts a stylus pen, covered with a cut-off finger of a rubber glove, in his mouth. He secures it between his teeth. Eric doesn’t eat breakfast. Frosted Flakes used to be his favorite, but he doesn’t get hungry early in the day anymore. By the time he is dressed and prepared for the day, it’s time for lunch, the first of two daily meals.

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Eric his senior year of high school. Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand.

At therapy, five days a week, for four hours each day, Eric works to do things he had done all his life, like walk. He is a participant in the Christopher and Diana Reeve Foundation’s NeuroRecovery Network, which raises money and provides special treatments for spinal cord injuries. His therapy sessions begin with a harness, a treadmill, and four to five specially trained physical therapists. The sessions are called locomotor training, and researchers at the NeuroRecovery Network believe these rehabilitation treatments can help spinal cord injury patients like Eric gain significant functional improvements, and with them a better quality of life. Gail Forrester, Eric’s doctor, who helped the Kessler Rehabilitation Institute become a part of the NeuroRecovery Network in 2007, says there are about 300 people in the program nationwide. The network has six other locations and a waiting list of six months to a year to be admitted.

All this treatment has a high cost, of course. Eric’s insurance policy from Rutgers expired two years ago, but he is covered by his personal health insurance and a lifetime catastrophic injury policy from the NCAA.

From his wheelchair, Eric is transferred into a harness suspended above a special treadmill, where five people will help him exercise his body and operate the machine. A large brace supports his torso and back, and royal blue harness straps, secured from the hips to above the top of his shoulders, lift him up. His arms hang down at his sides, palms facing in and fingers, long and straight, pointing directly toward the ground. With his feet on the treadmill, the harness lifts about 120 pounds of his weight, or about 45%, while the rest of his body weight rests on his legs. While his physical therapist, Sandra “Buffy” Wojciehowski, straddles the treadmill belt and steadies her feet on the sides of the treadmill behind Eric’s body, two others position themselves in small chairs near the belt, where they each will control one of his legs. Buffy grasps the straps on the harness, her biceps flexing, as she presses her body weight against Eric’s back. Another physical therapist bends Eric’s arms at the elbows and straps his forearms and hands onto wooden boards at the sides of the treadmill. Waiting for the signal from Buffy to start the belt, yet another therapist sits at a computer next to the treadmill. It’s almost time to get moving.

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Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand

Strapped in, harnessed up, sneakers tied, Eric stands upright. He stares at himself — his new body — in a long, floor-length mirror hung on the wall in front of the treadmill. With the treadmill set at 2.8 miles per hour, the physical therapists bend his legs at the knee with each step, pressing on specific nerves and placing each foot on the belt. Buffy says that the next 55 minutes on the treadmill will “excite his nervous system” by maximizing his weight bearing and optimizing the sensory cues in his legs and lower body. Eric spends those 55 minutes walking, talking, and most importantly, watching. He sees his reflection in the mirror, and while he focuses to keep his body still and his head and shoulders upright, he envisions his future.

It has been two years and more than 360 sessions since Eric started the locomotor training therapy. He’s still in the first of the three phases of the program. Before it, he had 88 sessions of traditional therapy — double the number of traditional sessions of most patients — but still could not yet sit. He never scored higher than a 0 to 3, out of 56 points, using a measure called the Berg Balance Scale. The scale measures the performance of 14 different tasks. The individual scores are based on a five-point scale, ranging from 0, meaning the patient cannot perform the task, to 4, meaning he or she has normal performance.

Eric is the only patient at Kessler with his precise level of injury. Doctors measure that level on a system called the ASIA scale. The scale is based on motor function tests and how much sensation the patient can feel in different parts of the body. The ASIA scale uses a Grade A to E measuring system, with Grade A representing the most impairment, or complete lack of motor and sensory function below the level of the injury, including the anal area, an important indicator, and Grade E, indicating the least impairment, or that all neurological function has returned. Eric is a Grade B, meaning he has some sensation below the level of injury, which was not the case immediately after he was hurt.

That level, in turn, is indicated by the part of the vertebrae that has been fractured. Vertebrae are grouped into different sections, based on the location in the spine. Usually, the higher up on the spinal cord the injury is, the greater the impairment. The higher vertebrae, located in the neck region, are called the high cervical nerves, and are labeled as C1 to C4. Eric fractured his C3 and C4 vertebrae. The C3 and C4 contain the phrenic nucleus, which is important for breathing because it passes motor information to the diaphragm and receives sensory information from it.

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Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand

As a part of the NeuroRecovery Network, Eric has made clear progress. After 20 sessions of the locomotor training therapy — which Buffy describes as dynamic and activity-based — Eric was able to sit, if only for 10 seconds. Then, it took more than 100 sessions for Eric to move 1 to 2 inches forward, in what is called a “functional reach” test. Eric can now sit for more than 17 minutes, without assistance.

The last time Buffy applied the functional reach test, she recorded Eric moving his trunk forward as far as 11 inches. “It gives him his personal space, he’s got his bubble back,” Buffy said of Eric’s progress. “He doesn’t have to have someone constantly in his face and in front of him keeping him steady and held up.”

And if he feels unbalanced, Eric has gotten strong enough to hold himself up for a few extra seconds, just long enough for him to call for help. When he starts to fall over while sitting, he said, it is because of the pain and exhaustion he feels in his neck and shoulders, not his balance. Instead of using his upper and lower back muscles to hold his torso up in a sitting position, Eric must squeeze and contract the only muscles he can — his neck and upper shoulder muscles — to hold himself up. The exercises and the pain leave him with knots and large areas of tension in these muscles.

Though he hasn’t moved onto the next phases on the treadmill, Eric posts videos on Facebook and Instagram to show how far he’s progressed. In a video captioned “Mama always said to keep your hands off the table…” Eric sits, bent at the hip in his chair with his arms crooked and his forearms resting on the table, palms down. As it starts, he shrugs his shoulders upward and with each downward motion, and his arms slide on the tabletop toward his body. His torso straightens, his head lifts, and his hands slide more than 12 inches, nearly off of the table.

The video is only 11 seconds long, but already has over 4,000 likes and hundreds of shares and comments. The words “believe” and “amazing” and “inspire” appear dozens of times apiece in fans’ reactions.

The video does show remarkable progress — Buffy says Eric is doing more than it is conventionally thought someone with his injury could do. There are not many patients in the NeuroRecovery Network whose injuries are the same as Eric’s, so it’s hard to compare his results, but there are also not many with the same positive outlook. “Very few patients that I have seen in the six and a half years that I have been doing this have been so optimistic all the time,” said Buffy. “Everyone has had a bad day, but Eric has never come in here and is just having one of those days.” She also attributes his outlook to the support he’s received. “They’re making it as easy as possible for something that is so difficult.”

In Las Vegas, in February 2014, at the Combined Sections Meeting (CSM) Symposium for physical therapy professionals, Buffy and a group of six other doctors and researchers presented their work with locomotor training and the neuro-recovery scale. The room was packed, with triple the attendance of last year’s presentation. When Buffy played a video of Eric working during therapy, she said the audience started to buzz with whispers and comments like, “Is that him?”

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Since his injury, Eric has become an inspirational speaker and spokesman for spinal cord injuries. Traveling to these engagements, or anywhere, for that matter, can be difficult. Eric got his first car, a Nissan Altima, in April 2010, just a few months before his injury, when it was easy to just get up and go wherever he pleased. Now that’s one of the hardest parts, and he has to coordinate and plan transportation every time he wants to go out. For places nearby or within driving distance, a Chrysler Town & Country equipped with a wheelchair lift and ramp does the job. But for longer trips, like visits to California or Arizona for awards ceremonies or speaking engagements, air travel is the only option.

Most airline carriers are accommodating, but it doesn’t mean the process is simple. Eric’s Permobil C500 power chair weighs 350 pounds and can’t fit on a standard airplane. It must be taken apart, Bubble Wrapped, and stowed underneath the cabin, which is where the troubles begin. Some attendants don’t know what buttons to press to unlock the wheels, and it’s a risk putting the $6,000 chair in an unsupervised space for a long trip.

Without his chair, Eric must be transferred to an airplane wheelchair, which is smaller than a standard one and just barely fits down the aisle (and just barely fits Eric’s big body and frame). He’s strapped into the chair and taken down the jetway as someone holds his legs up, since sometimes they hang off and touch the floor. On the plane, Eric sits in a regular seat. He sits on a seat cushion to prevent sores during the flight and is buckled in with the seat belt. His feet rest on the floor and his hands rest on his lap. He tries his best to stay warm.

After a spinal cord injury, it’s difficult for the body to control its temperature, in both hot and cold weather. So the frigid temperatures during the rough New Jersey winter were particularly tough for Eric, who piled on layers, even in the house.

He braved the cold winter on Friday, Jan. 31, two days before Super Bowl XLVIII. He headed to New York City for an exclusive, invitation-only party hosted by ESPN the Magazine. With Brandon Hall, his longtime friend, driving his all-black, wheelchair-equipped Chrysler van, they pulled right up to the gates lined with police officers at Basketball City at Pier 36. Click. Click. Click. Brandon unbuckled Eric’s extra-long seat belt and the van door slid open. Patiently, he sat and waited as his friend walked around to the other side of the van to release the ramp.

Inside, Eric was among stars and celebrities. Robin Thicke and Kendrick Lamar took the stage to perform; Elena Delle Donne of the WNBA and C.C. Sabathia of the Yankees mingled with friends; NFL players past and present, like Tim Tebow and Colin Kaepernick, stood tall above the crowds of people.

Brandon held a beer to Eric’s lips as he waited for the performers to take the stage. Chris Berman came over to say hello — he’d met Eric before. It was not long before dozens of other people come up to him, asking how he was doing and posing with him for pictures. Some laid a hand on his arm or embraced him with a pat on the shoulder. Others reached for a handshake. There was an awkward pause each time, a slight hesitation from the other person, as Eric’s hands and forearms remain glued to the armrests on his wheelchair. Eric simply nodded his head continued the conversation. He’s used to it.

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Eric LeGrand being presented with an ESPY by Rob Lowe on July 11, 2012. Kevin Winter / Getty Images

The first time Eric visited Mikey Nichols at the Morristown Medical Center, Mikey didn’t say much. But for the most part, Eric understood.

On Jan. 4, 2014, the 17-year-old senior forward for the Monroe Township High School hockey team took a shot and then was checked from behind. He collided headfirst with the boards. He was rushed to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with a C5 vertebrae fracture.

Eric tried to talk with him, but it was only a few weeks after the injury and Mikey just needed to sleep most of the time. He was pale and sickly looking. Mikey lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by tubes, machines, and wires.

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Eric with his mother, Karen. Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand.

“Mom,” said Eric. “Is that what I was like?”

Karen LeGrand nodded her head, “Yes.”

It had been almost exactly three years earlier that Eric had appeared in his first on-camera interview since his injury, in January 2011. ESPN anchor Tom Rinaldi sat across from Eric at the Kessler Rehabilitation Institute, just a few days before the 2011 BCS National Championship Game. It’s one interview Eric says he will never forget.

Eric sat positioned in his wheelchair, with his shoulders, neck, and head supported by a brace and tilted back, to help regulate his blood pressure. He was down to a mere 185 pounds. His cheeks were pale, making the redness in his lips stand out on the screen.

“There is a difference between what we know and what we believe,” Rinaldi said as he started the segment. It was the first update on Eric’s condition in a month and the first time he publicly declared he was going to walk again.

“I believe it,” said Eric.

And he has his reasons.

Eric remembers vividly the sound of his own breathing with the help of a ventilator. “I couldn’t sleep with it,” he says, recalling the constant clicking and hiss of the respirator as he released each hoarse, scratchy breath. “But the first couple times I asked to get off of it they wouldn’t do it.”

Eventually, the doctors agreed to allow Eric to try to breathe on his own. They warned him he was only going to be able to last one or two minutes.

The doctors pulled the tubes out of his throat and nose, and Eric instantly felt as he had during sprints on the treadmill, or during coach Schiano’s grueling workouts. He was breathing heavily, almost gasping. He said he felt as if he had just run 17 miles; his heart beat rapidly and a burning sensation spread throughout his chest as he tried to fill his lungs.

He lasted for 90 minutes.

He was worn out, and it was time for him to go to sleep, so the doctors reattached the ventilator. But this time, while the machine was giving him air, it wasn’t breathing for him. Just five weeks after his injury, he was free of it.

“When I accomplished that goal,” he says, “I felt like I could do pretty much anything.”

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Eric LeGrand working as an analyst for the Rutgers Radio Network on Sept. 1, 2011. Rich Schultz / Getty Images

Eric misses his old body. “I miss my straight stomach,” he says, “just looking down at my chest and seeing my big legs.” Even though he is almost the same weight as when he played football, his muscles are less defined, and he has what is called a “quad belly.” The abdomen has involuntary muscles that hold the internal organs in and upright. But when you’re paralyzed, those muscles aren’t contracting and all of the organs in your midsection fall forward, creating the look of a rounded stomach. It’s hard to see when Eric is sitting, but it is more obvious when he is standing upright and strapped in the harness on the treadmill.

Eric’s athletic physique, his commanding stature, is one of the things that had drawn his college girlfriend to him. He started dating Rheanne Sleiman, a Rutgers soccer player, five months before his injury. She was gentle and caring, and then strong enough to deal with cataclysmic change to their relationship. He can recall her crying only once after his injury. In the months that followed she would sometimes stay over in Avenel, sleeping by his side. Last fall, she moved back home to Vancouver. They remain close and keep in touch.

Even with his level of injury, a relationship is not without its potential pleasures. He has learned about various options, such as epidural stimulation, which courses an electrical current through to the lower spinal cord area, that can help with any number of tasks he is relearning — like walking — as well as with intimacy. As Roger Kahn wrote in his 1972 book The Boys of Summer, about Roy Campanella, the catcher for the Brooklyn Dodgers who was left paralyzed after a car accident: “The paralysis had not left Campanella impotent but had robbed him of the motion, the push-pull, so to speak, of sex.”

Like most people, Eric envisions a family of his own.

“It’s definitely something I think about late at night,” he says. “I always think about who would be willing. I still want kids — and it’s physically possible — it’s just about finding the right person who wants to start a family with me.” If he has a son, Eric says, he will allow him to play football.

“I would tell him he better give it his all,” he says. “Or don’t play.”

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The Rutgers crowd supporting LeGrand as his jersey’s number was retired in September 2013. Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand

On an especially brutal winter evening in February 2014, with mounds of snow piled more than 3 feet high on the streets around his home, Eric sat in his room in Avenel. He was dressed in sweatpants and a sweater, with another layer underneath. The thermostat in the room read 80 degrees. The television was on, but a constant, low vibrating sound also hummed throughout the room, from a small portable heater on a table next to Eric, the knob turned to the highest setting. Eric brings it with him everywhere, except, of course, when he goes to Miami, which he does from time to time. The steamy Florida weather makes Eric feel good — it’s the perfect temperature for his body.

During his next trip to Florida, Eric will have a chance to go skydiving in Daytona Beach, a jump that his friend Alan Brown is coordinating. Brown lives in Miami and has spent 26 years in a wheelchair as a C5 and C6 quadriplegic, after a swimming accident. As impossible as skydiving may sound for someone with paralysis, it is actually quite common. Skydiving instructors and companies have a special process to lift the legs up for the landing and special safety harnesses equipped for a paralyzed body.

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Customized Nikes. Photograph courtesy of Eric LeGrand

But before that, Eric will graduate from Rutgers with a degree in labor studies this month, two years after his classmates and teammates graduated. He tried first for a communications degree, in line with his dreams of being a sports commentator, but switched to labor studies to provide himself with a backup. He finds the process of how people form unions “interesting,” he says, and has also studied regulations of the Americans with Disabilities Act. He attended class through Skype, took proctored, verbal exams, and typed up seven-page papers on his iPhone, using his pen-in-the-mouth method, aided by spell-check and Apple’s Siri. He completed all of his credits in January 2014, with the help of his academic advisers.

We were talking about graduation one night and I asked, simply by habit, “Are you gonna walk?”

The blood rushed to my cheeks but the question didn’t faze him. Instead, he nodded and said he was going to “walk” in May, in his wheelchair, not for himself but for his mom and the rest of his family, so they could celebrate the moment together on a grand stage.

In fact, Eric will speak at the commencement ceremony on May 18, sharing the stage with a former New Jersey governor, Tom Kean. He was invited, then understood that he had been disinvited in favor of Kean, and voiced his displeasure on Twitter. Soon, what Rutgers called a “miscommunication” was patched up. The school’s president, Robert Barchi, said that it had always intended that both men give speeches, and that “Eric holds a special place in the hearts of the Class of 2014 and the entire university community.” Eric plans to inspire the students, but that’s nothing new to him.

He does a lot of that. During the winter of 2014, he hosted a pilot for a new series called Mission Possible, which focuses on the stories of athletes with disabilities. He’s also been working on his broadcast career, with contracts under discussion with various networks for college football analysis — his dream job. HBO will debut a documentary about his life in the fall, and he’s been contacted by big-time brands for collaborations and commercial deals. June 14 will mark the fourth annual “Walk to Believe” at Rutgers, a fundraiser for the research and treatment of spinal cord injuries that began as a benefit for Eric.

Plaques, trophies, framed letters, and awards cover every tabletop and nightstand and almost every inch of wall space in Eric’s room, but they don’t even begin to cover the long list of conferences, dinners, events, and ceremonies that he’s attended. His appearances provide him with a paycheck, but also a forum to share his story and raise awareness for spinal cord injuries and the search for cures for paralysis.

He expects the whispers when he enters the room, and he’s used to the people who stand back a few feet from him, hesitant to approach and unsure of how to react. He never writes a speech. He doesn’t need one.

“It’s my story,” he says.

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Eric LeGrand with his teammates before a Nov. 19, 2011, game. Patrick McDermott / Getty Images

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Read more: http://www.buzzfeed.com/jlisanti/eric-legrands-biggest-fight

[papasheart-blog1]

I was/am NEVER alone!

*IT'S A LONG POST, BUT IT'S GOOD!* In September of 2009 my life changed forever. My husband and I dropped our son, who was 11 years old at the time and our 2 daughters who were then, 6 and 7 years old off to school and headed to the local Emergency room. I had been dealing with severe pain in my head and neck in addition to vomiting for over 6 months. I had been to the doctor several times before this and could get no answers as to why I was severely sick. We arrived at the ER, my children had no clue that I went because they were going to school and I did not want to stress them out and have them to worry all day, and I honestly did not expect to not be sent back home to greet them after school when they got home. The registration process took place and then I was sent to the waiting room to be called. I felt as if I had sat there for a very extensive amount of time yet it wasn't that long at all. Then, I hear my name and get excited to “finally” receive some answers. The physician ran many different tests and all were without answers, he then felt that an MRI was going to be the final test in hopes of giving us some answers otherwise he would send me home. Answers came back, of course that I NEVER would have dreamed, He told my husband and I that he found a mass on my brain and that he would have to start an IV so that I could be transported to a hospital that was better equipped for handling this diagnosis because the hospital was in a smaller city. I was then sent into a private room where intravenous medication was started for me to have some relief of the nausea and pain that was so horrible. As I waited on the doctor to give my husband, my mother and I the updates, I felt as if time had merely stopped. I could only close my eyes and pray. Never have I been so terrified in all of my life of anything, even if I had answers to my problem. The doctor came into my room to update us that the ambulance was to arrive shortly for transport, at that time I told him that “ I just wanted to go home, take pain medication and to sleep, his reply was utterly bone shattering, he said “If you would have done this, there's a very good chance that you may not have woken up”. Terrifying for a mother of 3 young children and a husband who are my life!!! I can only imagine the way my husband must have felt on this day, he was so strong in my presence and it definitely helped me to not emotionally fall apart. I was transported to the facility nearly 200 miles away, my children still at school with no idea what I was up against that day and I am very thankful for those hours of protection for their little hearts and minds. When my husband and I were on the ambulance, the paramedic that was taking care of me was a reverend, he prayed with me and talked with me about Jesus while caring for me. Upon arriving to the hospital, I was nearly immediately greeted by my neurosurgeon and his name was ” Dr. Shepard”, the following morning during my 15 hour surgery my husband and some family and friends in the waiting room waiting on updates from a nurse who's name happened to be “Christian”, after my surgery was completed, with one minor complication and needing 2 pints of blood I was put in the Intensive Care Unit to be closely monitored. My husband quickly noticed the dry erase board which had the name of my nurses, the name of the HEAD nurse was “Emmanuel”, we never met this ”Emmanuel”,but his name was on the board (the name means God with us). Gods provision!!! Even when we could not see a way, He was there. Isn't it amazing the way He works?! After surgery I had to continue to be intubated until the next day and I continued to be monitored in the Intensive care Unit for the next 21 days. During my hospital stay, 7 days following my brain tumor resection I turned 30 years old, I had to walk with a walker to support me. In those days I experience the peace of God like NEVER before. I was a believer, but not “fully” sold out. I can remember lying in the bed discouraged and wanting to be home with my children and my husband together. My eyes wandering around the room, I affixed them onto the screen television, the television was off but on the screen I could see a mighty lion pacing back and forth, I immediately remembered that The Lord is as mighty as a lion. How beautiful it is that He wanted to show that to me. In my time of fear of the unknown, there He was. I can remember after several days of being in the ICU, my husband had not left my side and was mentally and physically exhausted, I felt even though I was tired of the chaos myself, I needed to encourage him some way. I did not know what to say as I was feeling the same way, I opened my mouth to tell him something and out of my mouth came Isaiah 40:28-31, in it's entirety. I NEVER memorized this scripture, I can't remember even reading it before. It blew me away that I spoke this to him word. For. Word, Do you not know?Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God,the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. This not only gave my husband(who was weary, without a doubt) great encouragement, but helped me and comforted me as well. I spent 21 days in this unit having tests done nearly every day on my body. I was discouraged and ready to get home to my three children. I laid in my bed weeping while my husband had to leave the room for 2 hours at morning and night for shift change to take place. I had never cried so much in my life, I closed me eyes while begging God to help me to wake me from what felt like a nightmare. I remember in my loneliness, feeling like my husband came in and laid on my chest, I felt so much peace in that very moment, It's like I forgot for a few minutes that I was in a stressful place. I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly with a small smile on my face. I then hear the door open so I opened my eyes, in walks my husband. He was not the one that came in to comfort me, he had not been able to come in during the shift change, scripture tells us that Jesus is the comforter, He is the one that comforted me in that moment. I could not believe what just happened and I was so excited to share that with my husband. The very next day I was lying in my hospital bed with the many cords attached to me and the annoying beeps filled the air. I laid in my bed with my eyes closed, I could only cry every time I thought of home. I missed MY home, MY bed, MY children, MY quiet and peaceful bedroom. When I closed my eyes, the Lord showed me a glimpse of a finish line with a huge checkered flag that was the width of the road, and the checkered flag had a huge yellow flag on either side of the road. I remember thinking to myself “what in the world is going on here”?. I then opened my eyes, laid quietly thinking about what I had just seen, I was confused for a few seconds and then I thought nothing about it, until the nurse came in a short while later. He asked how I was doing, I can't remember my reply, but I am sure he could sense that I was discouraged. He said “ remember slow and steady win the race”. WOAH, I got it Lord,WOWWWW!! Remember the vision of the finish line? I was shocked too. To my surprise I was released to be able to go home the very next day. I keep thinking of the children's song and the part of the song that says “ I am weak,but He is strong” Oh yes, He is. He is omnipresent. HE IS ALWAYS THERE! Three weeks following my discharge from the hospital, I had to go back, I was leaking spinal fluid from my incision in the back of my neck. I had to have another surgery to have a vp shunt placed, if you are not familiar with hydrocephalus, it is an excessive buildup of spinal fluid in the brain. I spent 4 days in the hospital with this surgery, which was a much easier length of time to accept. I was then released to go about living as normal of a life as I could. I was only 30 years old at the time, I had to walk with a walker and have assistance going to the restroom and bathing. That lasted for several months and I gained back my independence of driving, walking, going to the restroom and bathing again. It felt so great to have those freedoms again. I had to followup every few months with my neurosurgeon for an MRI to see what the remainder of the tumor looked like. He closely monitored me over the next 10 months, it was around that time that a 3rd surgery was needed to try to remove the remainder of the tumor. After a 5 day stay in the hospital I was sent home to think about another procedure called gamma knife radiosurgery. I had to endure a wire cage type of device on my head for around 8 hours while the procedure took place. I followed up with the Neurosurgeon frequently to monitor the severity of the residual brain tumor. We had all expected to get a better result from this procedure, unfortunately the tumor had not been removed from the radiation/radiosurgery, in fact the tumor had a reaction that was unexpected. The radiation had caused the tumor to swell, much like a hot dog does in a microwave. I was then back in the hospital within a few months to have a 4th surgery. A year later, I followed up with m neurosurgeon to see how the brain was healing and to find out why my headaches were so frequent. I had to be admitted for a 5th brain surgery, I was assured that this would be the final surgery that I would have to ever have and that my neurosurgeon and is team were very confident that this would be a great surgery. I agreed that I would have another surgery in hopes of having to not deal with these issues any longer. I had the surgery and ended up with many side effects afterwards. I could not close my right eye and could not do so for months, I had severe muscle weakness in my extremities in my left side, I had double vision due to nerves being damaged during my extensive surgery. I spent approximately a week in the hospital and was sent home to depend so much on my family. There was so much pressure on my husband and our 3 children who had to physically help and do almost everything for me. I ended up needing to have a home health nurse and a physical therapist to come in to help. This went on for months since I could not walk. I refused to give up on myself, I learned to walk again without relying on a wheelchair and eventually to not depend on the walker as well. This final surgery has been the hardest to endure. I have had many highs or lows in these years. In the middle of this storm, in the middle of this time where I was sure what to do or how to do anything, I went to a followup with my neurosurgeon, I remember being very hesitant about going to this appointment, I knew that on this particular day after my MRI, I was to go to the followup to discuss the tiny grape sized tumor that remained and I was going to need a referral to another doctor for radiation treatments, I remember walking into my neurosurgeons office with hesitation, when I walked in he said something, but it didn't sound real to me, it was something that I had been waiting 7 years to hear. He said “The tumor is gone”, he was ready to send me to discuss radiation treatments that morning, but there was no need for them. I needed to hear it again (and again). I felt as tough I could breathe again, as though I no longer had to live in fear, as though it was time to live no longer afraid of being put in the hospital for any further surgeries. I was FREE!! I still have to live with the VP Shunt and that is ok, I dealt with this for the 7 years with myself having hydrocephalus and not to mention, my son also was born with it. As severe as it really is, I was no where near afraid of this as I was the tumor. You see, 7 years is a long time to deal with something, but 7 has been my favorite number, so it kind of solidified my love for the number. I have still dealt with balance and coordination issues while walking, but I deal with it. I still battle double vision and had to stop driving since the surgery, but someday I will drive again. I have had an eye muscle surgery in hopes of temporarily creating single vision. The surgery was not completely successful, I have special lens in my eye glasses to be able to help me to have single vision and to be able to gain some independence back to drive myself places that I need to go. I am learning so many lessons in this, I have(WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT) learned to walk by faith. 2 Corinthians 5:7 says that we will walk by faith, not by sight! I pray that you never have to endure one bit of what I have had to, but I do pray that my story encourages you to stay strong in your faith and know that you are never alone. I pray that as you read this, you remember that things can be tough and seem like all hope is lost, but you've got this. God IS always,ALWAYS there!!! **please share this, you never know who will see it** Be beautifully blessed ALWAYS! Thank you for reading this. I want to share my testimony, AND I pray to share it with as many as I can so why not start here?! #LordSendMe

[robertjameshomeservices]

It’s 11.28 ON AN ORDINARY SATURDAY MORNING,ONE HEARTBEAT CHANGES OUR FAMILIES LIVES FOREVER.

When it comes to a balance between family and business, I don’t believe I have all the answers. Nobody does. I do, however, believe I know the questions that need to be answered to get that long-term healthy balance that is just right for you. Both my business and personal experience have brought me to this point.

Let me explain.

Powering ahead

Robert James and James Home Services: I have to tell you, there was a time when I thought I had all the answers. It was 2005. I was in my mid-thirties and had four awesome kids: Hayden (15), Cameron (13), Nadine (11) and Rohan (2). I had a beautiful wife,

Ronnie (the mother of Rohan and later on Luke), who – at the time – I believed would be my life partner. Hayden, Cameron and Nadine were from my first marriage, to my childhood sweetheart Alison. (Alison and I met when we were just 15 years old and spent 15 years together. We were two kids in love, who grew apart and realised one day that we weren’t a real match for each other.)

At this time, like many ‘blended’ families, we had all moved into a very functional situation. On the business front, things were powering! I had grown my ‘one man’ car cleaning business into a national home services franchise network of 400-plus franchisees. Our group, James Home Services, was totalling more than $25 million in home services annually across Australia. We had all the trappings of success: flashy cars, a beautiful home on a horse stud in the Mooloolah Valley, a team of show jumping horses, great holidays, no shortage of funds, and a huge network of great friends and colleagues.

The business success had not been by accident. A combination of vision, entrepreneurial spirit, smart risk taking and a passion for small business, along with a good serve of hard work and determination, got us the results we wanted.

I thought I had it all worked out, that everything was perfect! Then one day, without any warning, my world was turned upside down in one single heartbeat.

The moment it all changed

Hayden, Cameron and Nadine were all very capable horse riders, and we spent many weekends competing in show-jumping events.

One very ordinary Saturday morning we were all at the Gatton Agricultural Show. We had been at Gatton since the previous Thursday, camping in our truck. The kids were competing in their events and having an amazingly fun time together. Only Cameron and Hayden had events on Saturday, and Nadine had negotiated going home early with a girlfriend and her family.

It was all very normal.

I was sitting watching as Hayden warmed up to go in to compete. Cameron, having just finished competing, was heading back to our truck. Nadine ran up and gave me a hug, saying, ‘Love you Dad ... see you later!’ She turned to head back towards her friend’s truck, her ride home. I returned my attention to Hayden.

Then, just seconds later, at 11.28 am, I heard the most terrifying scream of ‘Dad!’, and instantly recognised the voice of Cameron, who was running towards me at full speed, his face full of fear. He screamed again, ‘Dad ... Nadine is down!’

‘Has she been kicked?’ I asked. This was my first thought.

In tears, he said, ‘I don’t know, she’s just in a heap.’

I ran as fast as I could towards the commotion, and the first thing I saw as I got to Nadine was a woman in riding gear doing CPR on my daughter! The woman was screaming, ‘Get the ambulance, get the ambulance!’ to a gate attendant. She said to me, ‘I’m a nurse – she’s in cardiac arrest!’

At that moment a man started working with her. He turned out to be her husband, an off-duty police officer.

The ambulance arrived quickly from the arena, but the officer seemed way too casual as he got out – perhaps he was assuming it was a minor fall? A scream came from the nurse: ‘She has no pulse! She is in cardiac arrest!’

With that, the whole world turned into a surreal living nightmare. Police cars arrived, a second ambulance arrived with a paramedic on board, crowds gathered, and our whole family rushed to the scene. Friends took little Rohan away. We were all in complete shock.

I couldn’t believe it. Was I living every parent’s nightmare? Could I be watching my daughter die? This living hell went on for 15 excruciating minutes – 15 minutes of fighting to get her back, then Nadine’s heart started to beat again on its own. She was stabilised and taken to Gatton hospital.

At the hospital I was left waiting in front of the emergency room with absolutely no idea about Nadine’s condition. Then a nurse walked out holding the little gold crucifix that Nadine always wore around her neck. In that moment, I was sure my daughter was gone.

My face must have shown it because the nurse quickly said, ‘No, no! She’s still alive. We had to put her in an induced coma to stabilise her for transport back to Brisbane.’

My daughter was ALIVE!

I went in to see her and was shocked but also relieved at what I saw. She looked terrible, but she was alive. Not long afterwards, she was flown to Brisbane Mater Hospital. I could do nothing but watch as the helicopter took my baby girl into a grey sky.

It’s a 90-minute drive from Gatton to Brisbane. A friend drove as I sat, waited and hoped that I would see her alive again, her words still ringing in my head: ‘Love you Dad ... see you later.’

‘Take everything, just give me my daughter back.’

Those first few days in Brisbane were terrifying: Nadine was in and out of consciousness in the ICU and it was impossible to evaluate any dam- age to her brain. Would she ever walk, talk or function normally again?

The worst was the early morning hours, between 1 am and 3 am. She had horrible night terrors and would wake up screaming, ‘I hate you; I hate you; you are not my father!’ I remember putting my head down on the bed and crying, believing that I had lost my beautiful daughter for- ever. That night I prayed: ‘Take everything, just give me my daughter back.’ My despair was unbelievably overwhelming.

About a week later, Nadine was moved over to the heart specialist ward to have a defibrillator implanted, to manage any other arrests. When we did get Nadine in front of the cardiologists, I was desperate for a glimmer of hope. Like all parents in this situation, I wanted to know how this was going to end. I remember asking the cardiologist, ‘What is the likely outcome?’ I also remember the very factual answers from the doctor: ‘Well, the survival rate of adult cardiac arrest is only 5%. For paediatric cardiac arrest, it is only 5% of that 5%! So, you can under- stand that to find ourselves in this situation is extremely rare ... ’

You can imagine how tormented we were. As well as this grim outlook, Nadine was showing all the signs of major head injury: rocking back and forth, she was clearly not mentally present, and she could not walk unassisted.

Then on a Friday afternoon, nearly two weeks after her heart attack, the surgeons implanted Nadine’s defibrillator. The doctors told me that she would be groggy after the procedure, so I went home for some much- needed rest. The next day, when I returned to the hospital, Nadine was sitting there watching television as if nothing had ever happened – she had just ‘woken up’. I couldn’t believe it: my daughter had returned.

In the following weeks it became clear that there was some memory loss. She had forgotten how to write, which she relearned very quickly, but her math skills were not up to her previous very high standards. Within five weeks, she was back at school.

It is the ‘extremely rare situations’ we find ourselves in that can be the most awakening and unsettling. We all believe we have our act together. I believed I had always run my business for my family; I was Dad and partner first, then business owner. I didn’t know it at the time, but that ‘ordinary Saturday morning’ would have a major impact on my family and my business, forever. The systems that grew the business would become vitally important.

Robert James and James Home Services: The cardiologist’s professional and pragmatic evaluation of the situation also stayed with me. The acid test came from the ‘extremely rare situation’ that I found myself in. We all face daily acid tests of our priorities. Constantly balancing family and business life in an unbalanced world is a true challenge.

Hopefully it doesn’t take an ‘extremely rare situation’ to make you evaluate your current position.

originally Posted: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/its-1128-ordinary-saturday-morningone-heartbeat-changes-robert-james/