Campus by the Sea

The one vacation we had firmly in place this summer was our annual family camp at Campus by the Sea out at Catalina Island.  The first time I attended as a camper, I was a year old, there were only pit toilets and salt-water "showers," gas lanterns, and arrival by an extremely frightening, pulley-rope operated shuttle-boat.  I still marvel at the fact that my mother agreed to return the next summer.  Years later I spent 3 summers on staff.  Years after that, I brought my boyfriend, Steve, to camp with our family, and he not only won the milk-carton boat race, but literally left everyone else drifting out to sea.  We took it as a sign.

The kids were troopers about missing camp--they were surprisingly philosophical about it all.  But in my heart I ached to put our feet on those rocks just for a moment before the summer was over. The verse chosen as their camp motto is, "Come away to a quiet place and get some rest."  God has met me throughout my lifetime there, and much of the credit for our solid marriage comes from the years of listening to Paul and Virginia Friesen teach on marriage and family.

So.  You need photos. They'll tell the story far better than I can!

We drove down to Long Beach, only about a 35 min drive for us, and caught the 8:30 Catalina Express to Avalon.  Søren was singing, "Everything Is Awesome," much to the delight of some neighboring college-aged passengers.  

Filling our shoes with camp dirt the moment we touched down. If you've been to my house, you'll recognize this from the painting my sister did of Søren that hangs over the piano.

Within the protective arms of the cove.

Hiking up to the Cross, we saw a white-tailed buck just off the path.  He didn't seem terribly perplexed by our noisy hiking.

My children, who are often big whiners when it's time to pray, sat and prayed with me up here.  We thanked God for the way he has already begun to heal Dad, how he's cared for our family, and they asked me to pray that we could all be there together next summer.  

Contemplating the Pacific.

On their List for the day-- Ice Cream Sandwiches.

Wish I had some pictures from our kayak trip.  We saw dozens of Garibaldi, and a sea lion and a harbor seal going all couch potato along the rocky shore.

The time slipped away so quickly... 

I did get a wonderful chance to sit on that rocky beach and drink in a wonderful talk with Virginia Friesen, who I've known all my life.  She was one of the first (outside my family) to lovingly speak truth into my life, to invest in me, and to root for me.  We were their personal guests while there, and even had the use of their private cabin (super fancy by CBS standards!).  They have loved us so well throughout the years, and seeing them is restorative.  

Paul actually came to see Steve while he was in rehab--a divine appointment.  He was on the mainland for the day for a few last-minute errands before family camps started and wasn't sure where Steve was at the time.  He received word of Steve's being at Long Beach Memorial when he was literally two blocks away.  He came and prayed with Steve during a time when he particularly needed some encouragement.  What a gift.  

One more trek to the Rock Jette to look for crabs and sea anemones.

I was so proud of these two.  They were kind and patient with each other all day.  They even went to the kids' class for part of the morning so I could go listen to the speaker with the adults!  The entire camp prayed for our family!  Amazingly, there was a family absent from this week's camp because he fell and broke a cervical vertebra, for whom we also prayed.  His story parallels Steve's with frightening similarity, and I have reached out to Joy to encourage her, 6 weeks further down that path.  

I love the pearlescent colors at sunset.  It's a magical hour.

A last look.

Waiting for our boat in Town, far past their bedtime.

Dirty, wiped out, and happy.

It took me an entire day to recover--I slept poorly the night before and after, and we were up early and late the day of.  But I felt bolstered and refreshed.  It was as perfect a day as it could have been without Daddy.    

I'll leave you with the verse chosen for Family Camp this year:

You shall walk after the Lord your God and fear him and keep his commandments and obey his voice, and you shall serve him and hold fast to him.  ~Deuteronomy 13:4

Grumpy, Happy, Reality

Oh you dear people who still turn your eyes to us, even six plus weeks after Steve's accident!  We don't deserve you, but thank goodness it's not about deserving.

Steve's first week at work was really good -- so good to get him engaged in Biola again, back with his fabulous IT team.  I think that department is just the awesome-sauce.  Over the years, Steve's been privileged to hand-pick many of them and craft a really amazing team, not just people of ability, but people of character.  Biola is so fortunate to have them.

We had another two appointments on Thursday.  The first was with the urologist, who discussed the health of his kidneys post-hospital-stay.  The appointment went well and Steve got to drop another med (YAY!).  However, apparently urologists don't have a proper sense of urgency when it comes to a second appointment, and we missed Steve's PT appointment next door by 20 minutes.  This was a disappointment because PT is so vital to his recovery.

However, there is good news on the PT front.  We have been approved to go to Rancho Los Amigos, which has unanimous approval from several PT's in our life.  They are THE Spinal Recovery people in the area from what we hear.  We're not sure when we'll actually get in the door there, but I'm hoping by next week at the latest.

We continue to be tired.  The combination of a 4-hour work day plus home-PT is surprisingly draining, and we have had appointments and such mixed in.  I continue to have a rough time sleeping, which makes for a grumpy mommy sometimes.  I'm grumpy because SERIOUSLY, where are all the handicap parking spots?  I'm grumpy because that wheelchair is clunky to lug around.  I'm grumpy because I'm realizing how much Steve really does around here!  He's grumpy because he wakes up and doesn't feel like being partially paralyzed that day. I'm grumpy because scheduling and coordinating is tricky. And I'm grumpy because being grumpy is stupid.

But in the arc of our week and the last 6 weeks, we truly are happy.  We are a happy family, a happy couple.  We went to a movie yesterday, all four of us.  This is kind of a big thing, as we haven't been a movie-going family up to now.  We got invited to a fantastic lunch at Beachwood BBQ with friends (and a fellow Fullerton Loop casualty!).  Every day there are good, good things. So the truth is that life is just good ol' life.  The reality of it is there are good, happy times, there are grumpy times, and we are living real life, living it by grace.

5.5 Week Update

I'll start with the über-exciting news that Steve went back to work part-time on Monday!  This is proving to be so good for all of us so far.  While we have all loved having him home, it has put us in a strange pattern of waiting for something that we can't seem to name.  Going to work set a new rhythm that I think is going to work very well for our family from here on out.  Some have asked, "How are you going to do your job??"  Steve says, "Well, instead of bugging people standing up, I'll bug them sitting down."

We had a good appointment on Monday to continue working on his secondary complications.  He was then scheduled for an endoscopy in August to carefully look for any residual GI tract bleeding (ulcers) from the heavy steroid treatment in the 23 hours prior to surgery.  This is important for us to know because we cannot start anti-coagulants to treat any residual blood clots until we are aware of his ulcer status.  The especially great news is that we were able to reduce Steve's daily meds substantially.  The pill for the ulcer is just a beast.  It has no coating, it's huge, and it immediately starts to disintegrate when you start to swallow it.  It has caused more than one choking scare--thankful my heart is in good, working order.  I'm not sorry to see that one go, that's for sure.

We have a few more rocks to look under before we commit to our out-sourced referral to a spinal cord injury (SCI) physical therapist (PT).  The place we are looking at going is one of the best in the business.  Not excited about extending our drive twice a week, but thankful that we live in the L.A./Orange County area where so many "bests" are located.  For those close by, we'd be going from La Mirada to approximately the 105/710 interchange.  Until then we've had adequate PT and some great long-distance consultation from a dear friend in NorCal who does SPI-PT.

As for me, today I got kidnapped.  The very best kind of kidnapped.  Phil Watson came to hang out with Steve and the kids, and Christi and I went and got pedicures, went shopping, out to dinner... and then went to Big 5 for new tennis balls for the walker.  Like ya do.  I came home feeling like a new woman.  Loved, pampered, taken care of.  I don't think I knew how much I needed this. I still can't even understand how we are so fortunate as to have these kinds of friends.
The kids are doing great.  They seem fully comfortable with Dad in a walker/wheelchair, and because Steve is just the same-old-Steve, they feel secure.  We have some good outings planned, and Mom has had some more energy for them recently.  Thank you for praying so specifically for these things.

As we are doing well, my heart does ache for so many around me who are hurting badly.  Just in the last week plus, four of my friends have lost an immediate loved one--a sister, an uncle, two fathers.  I've been in touch with two friends who lost their husbands in the last year, and two whose husbands have bowed out.  It has reminded me of another Walt Harrah song, called "True Religion," which prompts me to pray with my whole heart for these people, and to see even in our more limited capacity, how we can love them well.

No need to ask, "Who is our neighbor?"
Hurt all around us screams in pain.
Living for self is not an option,
We've tasted of Grace
God's love is within
Let's go live it out.

True religion, pure and faultless
Loves the widow, helps the poor
Feeds the hungry, aids the orphan
With the Heart of Jesus at its core
What are we waiting for? 

Just a quick picture of how God is caring for us

1.) My car has been filthy for a long time.  Not long before Steve's accident, there was a fire at a La Mirada-based Recycling plant, and ash rained down on everything.  We got our yard taken care of, but the car remained disgusting.  Today our dear friends came and told us they would be picking up our car so their whole family could wash and vacuum it out for us.  I immediately started to cry because it was something I desperately wanted done, hadn't been able to get to, but just felt too strange asking for.  And that it was a service their whole family could do together just struck a chord with me.

2.) This morning Kenny Clark preached on Psalm 40, which is about David's cry for help in suffering.  It spoke deeply to us, reminding us that God truly hears us when we cry out.  But we need to be ready to accept God's mercy as He intends it.  So poignant, right to our souls.

3.) Steve developed a fever and chills late this afternoon.  We'd been looking out for this particular infection as a complication common to Steve's particular condition.  He started at warm around 7 and was hot by 9.  We are headed to a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon, so we thought he'd be fine until then.  After we prayed together tonight, I felt inclined to call my dad, just to check in.  My dad insisted we start antibiotics right away, as he could get very sick very quickly.  We happened to have antibiotics that my dad had given us awhile back, and Steve was able to start immediately.  He should be feeling much better by tomorrow.

These are only three things--I could give you a score more, just today.  When I was driving to the E.R. the day of Steve's accident, the thought entered my head to start just thanking God.  I wondered whether I was being artificial because it was something I was "supposed" to do.  But I decided even if it was somehow impurely motivated, God still deserved my praise.  I was immediately able to thank God for a dozen things, and our journey had just begun.  Psalm 40 says that in our suffering, remember what God has done.  Remember who God is, what he is capable of, and that he is completely trustworthy.  He is teaching me to do this with all things, large and small.  You could bless me deeply by sharing what God has done, large or small.

Happy Monday to you all!

The Week in Review

Strangely, the weeks are flying by.  Each week comes with microscopic nerve growth.  And each week seems to have a very dark moment, some really, really fun times, lots of details and strategy to think through, and deep, consistent grace soaking in.

This week we made strategic progress on one front.  We had the first of four appointments to work through complications related to the ulcer and the blood clots.  When we've been to all of these, our primary care doc will coordinate the opinions of everyone as to when we can begin anticoagulants, how long he will be on them, and when/if to remove the IVC filter.

In addition, we clarified with Physical Therapy that we don't want to pursue only osteo PT, but both neuro and osteo PT with a Spinal Cord Injury specialist.  The short story is that we have some good support through Kaiser to find someone that will fit Steve's needs, and we should zero in on our PT provider in the next week.  This is a huge answer to prayer, as I was beginning to feel discouraged and somewhat powerless to help Steve get anything better than mediocre care.

We got through Søren's party swimmingly.  Søren has such great little friends, and we all had a fantastic time.  Both Søren and Lucy have been into the PBS show Wild Kratts lately, and Søren requested it as his party theme.  This ended up being of strategic advantage to me, as I could recycle old Adventure Week props to decorate.  My friend Christi Watson came to help me decorate, and we got it looking habitat-y in no time flat, while looking like we'd spent hours.  Well, I had spent hours, just not for this party!

With some help from our neighbors and a sweet high-school gal from church, we pulled off activities and games that kept the kiddos happy and Søren felt loved and celebrated.  I found it amusing that my poor mom broke her ankle for my fifth birthday, and now we are operating with a gimpy parent for my son's fifth birthday.  Go figure.

Søren carrying his platypus egg to the hatching zone, and Lucy being hooked by a gummyworm!

Today we had no appointments, and I spent the day just exhausted.  I kept trying to figure out why all day.  It was just a kid's birthday party.  But I keep remembering the last 5 weeks and remembering that all our minds and bodies are trying to put themselves back together and that it is in God's will and instructions to be still, to rest, to heal.  So with that, I head to bed early to do just that.  

My Baby

Tomorrow we celebrate Søren's FIFTH birthday.  I'm in denial, actually.  It truly feels like yesterday that I had this beautiful boy.  This time 5 years ago, we didn't even know his name. (Steve and I are 2nd children, trying to name a 2nd child--why are you surprised we didn't pick a name until the day after he was born?)  The first thing I ever said to my little man was, "Where did you COME from?"  He was born with a surprising head of dark hair, not at all the peach-fuzz I expected from two former blondes.  Consequently, over the next 6 months it all fell out, giving him an "old man with a mullet" look for awhile.  Now he's achieved the dishwater blonde to match the rest of us.  He is a true joy.  A little Love, a wiggly cuddler, a big heart, a stubborn and freakishly hard head, comedic timing, and eyes that can kill you on the spot.

Last night Steve had a particularly hard night.  Lest we forget the complications surrounding his accident and recovery, he ate something he realized he shouldn't have and was horribly sick for a couple hours.  He told me that the song going through his head while he was so sick was "Trust In The Lord" from Adventure Week.  Why is this happening to me?  Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.  Thankful for true words that come in dark moments.

In the aftermath, I was just so sad.  I hate seeing Steve suffer.  And I realized that I have been resenting throwing Søren a birthday party when things are so exhausting and unpredictable.  I asked God to help me put the resentment behind me and throw my child a birthday party.  During the course of the day today, I found things coming easily in the prep for his little party, and a much softened heart toward a child who doesn't understand that dad-in-a-wheelchair means mom-is-tired.  Dad is home and healing, here with us every day, and what a better time to celebrate the life of our Little Buddy?  I can't wait to wake up to my 5-year-old and tell him again that his birth was one of the best days of my whole life.

The New Normal

First of all, doesn't the blog look soooo much better?  You can tell Steve's doing better when he gets annoyed with how ugly the blog is and sets out to fix it!

Some of the funny things about our new normal:

• "Your father's walker is not a toy!" 
• "Jenny, would you mind sweeping the backyard before I take my walk?  I hate it when I get little rocks stuck in my tennis balls!"  
• Steve has 4 "days-of-the-week" medicine holders:  Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner and Bedtime.
• Turns out it's really hard to find handicap parking!  It feels really, really weird to stalk old people in parking lots.
• Our carpet has little walker trails marked into it, showing the Steve Paths.  

Some of the other just simply great things about our new normal (just a FEW):

• We get to have Dad home all the time!  
• I don't feel guilty running the air conditioning.  Partial paralytic here!  
• We are regularly hearing from/seeing some wonderful, wonderful people.  
• People who have suffered greatly have ministered acutely to us.
• Lots and lots of awesome pool time for the kids!

Now that we are a week plus into Steve being home, I've been thinking about what life needs to look like moving forward from here.  I don't want to spend our life waiting for something--I'm not sure exactly what I'd be waiting for.  Crisis forces you to go back to basics, and now that we're past the crisis, we're forced to keep things very simple.  

As I've looked at what I need as the primary manager of our lives right now, it's been helpful to really think through what will keep me balanced.  Be intentional about getting rest.  Read my Bible daily (reading the Psalm plan from Grace).  Stay on top of keeping the house clean.  Hire a cleaning service.  Stay ahead of appointments and childcare.  Keep in prayer for some people on my heart.  Blog.  Find a way to make a little time alone, sans kids.  Find moments to really check in with the kids, eye to eye.  

For the kids, I'm trying to bring some order back to our lives--kids to bed on time, limit screen time, work a little on iReady and piano, stay on top of attitude/obedience breaches, work a little on phonics, make special time with Daddy.  I am also trying to find a way to plan an outing or something special once a week.  I am trying to figure out how to get the kids out to Campus By the Sea for a day.  

For Steve, he also needs to get plenty of rest, and to make allowances for himself.  He's rigidly adhering to his stretches, exercises and walking.  (Every PT I know is drooling right now, by the way--he's a PT's dream patient.)  He's also taking a break from his regular Bible reading and reading the Psalms with church.  He's planning intentional time with the kids, especially Søren, who seems to really need time with him.  He's planning to hire some people to finish some of the home projects he won't be able to do this summer.  And he's staying on top of organizing his care.

It sort of looks like a lot when I write it out like that, but at the same time I'm shedding a lot of things that were acting as clutter--a bit of a palate cleanser.  And I'm putting off a lot of things until Steve is back at work and the kids are back at school.  

Yesterday Steve got up and said, "I don't feel like being partially paralyzed today."  I gave him a wry nod.  I think the closer he gets to normal, the bigger the gap seems between Old Normal and New Normal.  But between then and now, we have had some wonderful, lovely times with a variety of incredible people (we are ridiculously spoiled by amazing friends here), eaten together in the back as the marine layer crept over our house, read our chapter book out loud to the kids (a heretofore unwelcome idea to them), and laughed until we cried at the Lego movie.  Our days are known to God, each in their own time, and God has called us to live this day.  So we take a deep breath each day and plunge in with thankful hearts.  

4 Weeks Ago Today

We were both stunned to realize today marks 4 weeks since Steve's accident, and Sunday will be a month.  It's almost impossible to believe.  We "celebrated" by making a surprise visit to his office to say hello and touch bases with some of the wonderful people who have supported us in so many ways. What a privilege it is to be a part of the Biola family.  To see my husband greeted with such love and respect, and to see the ferocity with which they have maintained his department in his absence makes it so much easier to choose his return date carefully, rather than hastily.

You can continue to pray for good rest for both of us.  I was up about half the night because Lucy couldn't sleep, and the night before I didn't get to sleep until very late because Lucy woke up with a painful ear infection (good thing her grandpa is a doctor who takes my late-night texts!).  I'm finding that with poor sleep my patience with the kids is low.  Søren is going through a whiney phase and is incredibly slow to obey.  I hollered at him pretty good tonight and had to ask forgiveness from him later.  However, when my reserves are slim, I don't find that I'm doing my most thoughtful and intentional parenting.

You can also continue to pray for some of the complications that surround Steve's injury.  We are so incredibly thankful for his progress, there is no doubt.  But we have to be both patient and vigilant in the healing of his whole body.

We continue to hear the reactions of many to our story -- it seems to connect with people very personally somehow.  I find that I am surprised when the overall tone of the reaction is so dooms-dayish.  Words like tragedy.  I'm surprised, because difficult though this is, we don't feel we are victims of tragedy, but recipients of grace and hope.

This should not be:

If you can't see this video, please email me at jennyearle <at> mac.com and I'll send you the video.  This is worth seeing. 

Life and Breath and Everything Else

I woke up this morning to find the bed next to me vacated.  To my sleep-numbed brain, this meant nothing.  Then it meant A LOT.  I rounded the corner to discover Steve sitting at the counter, having gotten up, dressed, and gotten himself a bowl of granola completely unassisted.  A week ago, I walked with him wherever he went.  Two weeks ago he wasn't allowed to get out of bed without calling a nurse.  Three weeks ago he couldn't adjust his own position in bed.  Every day brings me a new gift from this man, and from the accelerated healing we are seeing in his body.  It seems painfully slow at times, but it sort of reminds me of how vast the world seems when you look under a microscope.  Each grain is a miracle.  Steve's nerves are slowly, slowly coming to life again as swelling recedes, as his body recovers from its trauma and has the resources to tend to those vital cells.

Grains of sand, magnified x250

(Original source not known)

You who are in the medical field have a beautiful gift from God--you have the privilege of participating in the process of healing that he created, many times far beyond what we have even yet understood.  And sometimes you are agents of assisting those into the world of broken and decaying bodies with grace and dignity.  My father is a doctor, and I have always watched amazed as he has humbly sought God's wisdom as he has cared for thousands and thousands over the years, and we have seen God use him daily.  

As we have begun to see the dozens of health care professionals examining Steve's body, there is a common theme.  They can't decide whether Steve is profoundly lucky or profoundly unlucky.  Many bikers fall, get a little banged up and walked away.  Steve landed on his head, broke his back, and sustained partial paralysis.  And yet, he broke only that bone.  There were virtually no bruises, almost no scrapes.  His memory and his brain are intact.  There were no internal injuries.  How can this be?  

I don't know how people process the world without a deep understanding of God.  Not "a higher being" or "the good guy in the sky," but God, as he has very intentionally revealed himself to be.  I don't know how you make sense of something like Steve's accident or Melody Litzau's degenerating muscles or the overwhelming, overwhelming results of a fallen world.  But the beauty--the profound beauty--of knowing God's story brings poignant, deep peace even in perhaps the scariest moment of my life.  We're not thrashing around in a world that came from chaos only to end in chaos, we're in a World that God allowed to choose or not choose him.  Our choices came with consequences, and the World, the very earth shows it.  But God is so far ahead of us that not a single moment of this pain is for nothing.  

And yet were we to count each grain of sand, one by one, to build a sand castle, would it not be painstaking and tedious and seemingly hopeless, even pointless?  

"Go to the ant, you sluggard;  consider its ways and be wise!"  (Proverbs 6:6)

An ant takes one grain at a time, hoists it, relocates it.  All its colony do the same.  Thousands and thousands of grains later, an intricate, purposeful pattern begins to take shape.  

Denise pushing Steve to work hard

So with this in mind, with great respect for the intricacy of God's plan for us, would you pray for patience for Steve with each day, and for perseverance to lift his rubbery feet off the ground one at a time?  For endurance with each exercise and each of the dozen-plus appointments?  

I've had the song from Adventure Week 2 years ago running through my head that was taken from this passage from Acts that I love, so I will leave you with this: 

"The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything.  And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him.  Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, for 

     'In him we live and move and have our being.'

as even some of your own poets have said, 

     'For we are indeed his offspring.'"

(Acts 17: 24-28, in Paul's address to the Athenians in their attempt to cover all their god bases.)

Brain Set to Spin Cycle

Today we said goodbye to the Grand-Earles, and Steve's sister arrived to help us with the kids during appointments today.

And then we set out for what would be 5 hours at Kaiser Downey, and would come home with 14 appointments to put on the calendar, just to start with.  

Our first appointment was with the Rehab specialist, who consequently is the one who sent us from Kaiser to Long Beach for rehab.  We really like this guy -- he knows Steve's case well and is thinking very "whole person" for us.  We had an urgent equipment issue, and he stayed after his last appointment to help us figure it out.  He laid out all the different medical issues we are dealing with (follow-up on blood clots, ulcer, surgeon, neuro, P.T., O.T., and a few others), and helped us understand how to make sure our care gets coordinated.

We happened to be able to get in with the PT right after our appointment with the Rehab doc.  It was just a basic evaluation, and we don't yet have goals for PT.  Denise will be going with us to his next PT appointment on Monday to help us ask good questions and get our goals very clear.

I have been sitting down this evening charting out all the appointments, when meals are being brought, when Jennifer will be here, when we need additional childcare or a ride for Steve.  Oh, and somewhere in there I am throwing a birthday party for Søren.  Yikes. You can pray that I am able to keep all these plates spinning.  I'm grateful that I have some experience in administration!

Pray also for the timing of Steve going back to work.  We think it would be good for him to engage back at work, but balance is going to be important.  With all the appointments and additional time for basic tasks at home, we will need wisdom here.

Pray for my role as care-giver, that I will somehow find ways to care well for myself--for good sleep, discipline, and even a return to the fantastic exercise program I'd finally developed prior to the accident.

Each day we get new pieces of the New Normal, and each day we get more unpredictable pieces to add to the puzzle.  So each day gets to be its very own day--new every morning.

Steve "working hard?" at the recumbent stair-climber

A great way to end the day--a little Family Wii

The Long Road to Walk

"Home Therapy" - A hand massage for Dad

Well, friends our immediate crisis has passed, and we are beginning the long recovery journey.  There will likely not be much "big" news from here on out.  I want you to know that if this is where you take leave of my wordy updates, you go with my blessing, and we feel no less loved by you.  We have been blessed by your concern, far more than I realized we would be.  Thank you.

Tomorrow Steve's parents head home.  We have been blessed to have them here for two weeks, ministering to Steve in the hospital, loving the kids, cleaning, folding, arranging, and generally setting us up to be on our own after they leave.  They have been a true blessing to us, seeing our needs before we knew what they were.

This week we will have 3 appointments.  The first will be with the doctor who will oversee Steve's rehab.  The second, yet unscheduled, will be his first outpatient PT/OT appointment. The third will be with the surgeon who performed the surgery at UCI.  We're looking forward to hearing where we go from here, and even starting to think through how Steve will be able to get back to work.  Biola has been exceptional, and his team in IT has stepped up to the plate and rallied incredibly during his absence.  They've made him proud.  But I know he will be glad to take his place back among them in the foreseeable future, as is appropriate for his recovery.

Steve came to church this morning--a victory!  It took me 2 full hours to get 4 people ready for church, and we were still late, but we made it!  It was a joy to be back together in our dear, dear church.  We began a summer series on the Psalms, and really enjoyed Joe Henderson helping us to understand the Psalms as they were originally written and understood, and how Christ's sacrifice makes it possible for us to participate in them.  I'm so excited for this series!

To cap off the day, we finally got to use that handicap placard on our celebratory dinner excursion to Islands tonight.  There was a very sweet moment between Steve and Søren (who has been glued to him the last several days).  Søren cuddled up to Steve's elbow and said, "Dad, I'm glad you are home."  The two of them talked in quiet tones about how much they'd missed each other and how thankful they were to be back together.  Steve's accident was just that--an accident.  We would never choose it for ourselves, even if we could go back.  But the sweet moments God has granted us as a result, the intensified thankfulness for our days, our relationships, for God's work in our lives is unparalleled for us to date.  I can't help but be thankful that he is using it to prepare our hearts for the road ahead and the final destination.

A couple lines from Walt Harrah's "Forever With The Lord" say it well for me:
Forever with the Lord!"
Amen! So let it be!
Life from His death!
We live in hope of immortality
Here in this body spent
I with creation groan 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent
A day's march nearer home

Down time

These last few days with the in-laws have comprised good down-time.  Lots of pool time for the kids, puzzles, legos, etc.  I'm so thankful for all the meals STILL coming, because it's allowing Steve's parents to help us with things like house care and kiddo love.  It is blessing not just us, but them too.

But we did have a bit of a scare today.  Steve's foot slipped while one hand was up off the walker, and as he grabbed it to steady himself, he hit it with enough force to completely bend the leg off the walker.  He is uninjured, and he was trained how to get up in case of a fall.  But it shook everyone up pretty good.  I was in the other room taking a much-needed nap and missed it all, but it was still pretty sobering.  A new walker was delivered within 90 minutes, as it was under warranty.

And tonight I started to really lose my cool with the kids as well.  You know how it goes -- I just don't know how many more times I can answer the question, "How many more bites do I have to eat?" or how many times I have to tell a kid to get in the shower before someone loses an ear.  Innocuous things on their own, but it's like Chinese Water Torture.  Over time, your sanity erodes.  Truly, we're all fine in the scheme of things, but I think I share this mostly so that you know we are truly living in reality and not in some kind of Halo Land.  But it also highlights how God has intervened in the last several weeks.  In general, the kids have been fantastic, and my patience has certainly been beyond what is normal for me.  I absolutely believe that your prayers have been instrumental in this.

If you would, please pray especially for the number Steve's fall did on his mind today, that his confidence in the Lord no matter what would carry the day rather than a fall.  There will likely be other falls.  Our P.T. and O.T. have told us to expect them.  But we would ask for your prayers that he would sustain no additional injuries, and that his mind would be protected from the fear that resurfaces with a fall.

Some things you might not know

Happy 4th!  (Well, for most of you, 5th now...)  We had a fantastic evening, recreating our missed Father's Day meal -- corn on the cob, watermelon, steaks and from-scratch brownies.  Since the in-laws are here and I'm not driving to Long Beach or doc appointments, I actually got to enjoy preparing a meal, and every single one of us had eyes rolled back in delight.  We also had a fabulous time lighting street-side fireworks, compliments of our fabulous neighbors.

Steve has quite a bit of increased sensation in his feet.  After 3 weeks of nothing, I actually tickled the bottoms of his feet!  He has new sensation in his big toe as well.  More and more great signs.  As we sat down to dinner tonight, every single one of us was just FULL of thankfulness.  What a day to celebrate indeed.

Since we don't have any major news today, I'll share a few random things that never made into the blog thus far.

1.) Steve is now missing about 4 inches of his lowest left rib.  I was a little bummed we didn't get to keep it!  When he was in recovery after the surgery, high as a kite, he had a fantastic time making jokes about that rib.  "Watch out, Honey, they might make me a new woman out of that rib!"  We reminded him it was only half a rib, so my position is secure.

2.) Steve had two full surgeries.  During the first they went in through the side, scooting all the organs aside to get to the spine.  Steve has a very long torso, and his perineum was much lower than anticipated and therefore in the way.  Hence the chest tube and the whack-a-rib treatment. They removed his entire first lumbar vertebra, including the shattered pieces.  Then an expander was placed that is like a little tiny car jack.

After the expander was in place, Steve was closed up, then prepped for the 2nd surgery.  Now that his spine was stabilized, he was carefully turned and then the surgeon was able to go in and place the plate and the screws to fuse the last thoracic vertebra to the 2nd lumbar vertebra.

3.) Steve is now sleeping with massive moon boots, designed to prevent "drop foot."  If his feet continue to point limply down, his achilles tendon will atrophy and shorten, which will create major problems later for his walking.  They also prevent his feet from getting into positions that cut off his blood-flow while he is sleeping, since he can't feel them.

4.) When you are admitted into the trauma E.R., you are given a pseudonym.  Steve was... wait for it... Doe Silver.  I swear, if we ever get a dog, I'm totally naming it Doe Silver.

Happy 4th to all of you, and thank you God, for the way you HAVE blessed this country.  We are truly grateful.

Adjusting to the New Life

We've been home together for a day and a half, and we're finding out what each little task looks like.  In the short time we've been home, Steve's independence has vastly improved.  Originally I was instructed to walk everywhere with him, holding onto his "gate belt" (a strap around his middle that is the safe way to steady him).  Now he is using his walker to get around the house on his own, like a BOSS.  We've worked through some adjustments, like how to make sure he gets all his meds at the right time, how to help work through sleep, how to get him breaks from his back brace.  In all, while we are all tired, it was a successful first day.  We thank you all so much for your prayers for our first day.

Søren especially is glad to have his daddy home.  It was neat for them to be able to talk about how they felt being away from each other, and seemed like a very healthy way for him to work through all this.  I got to tell him how proud I was of him for getting through a hard thing, and reminding him about how God takes care of us even when hard things happen to us.  I pray he never forgets this.

Tonight we all piled in the car and drove to the top of the Biola parking garage so we could view the La Mirada 3rd of July fireworks.  It was so fun to do a "normal" outing together, and let me tell you, we felt like those fireworks were just for us.  Thanks for the welcome home, La Mirada!

Home!

I woke up this morning with a new sense of purpose and determination.  It wasn't exactly excitement, wasn't exactly nervousness, but a sense of hyper-alertness.  I could feel all my nerve endings wide awake, ready for fight or flight.

It was a congratulatory atmosphere everywhere -- fellow patients saying goodbye, nurses, aides, therapists.  Every single person expressed confidence in Steve.  In an environment that does not sugar-coat, this was encouraging.

Lana, Steve's O.T.  Isn't she adorable?

A big hug from Venus, his P.T., who doesn't like goodbyes!

 On our own!

A wonderful welcome from the kiddos and the Grand-Earles.

We have a funny custom with our neighbors across the street.  Steve and Rich and I all whistle to each other, essentially to say, "Hey, here I am.  Are you there?"  After we got Steve settled in the house, Rich came out and whistled.  From the house came the familiar whistle back.  

All is right with the world.  

Switching it up

Wanna know what happens when you realize your DMV appointment is NEXT week, and not THIS week?  You don't stand in line, you get a number, and spend an hour reading the Bible that the kids were not interested in letting you read in the morning.  Surprisingly, the DMV was an awesome place to read.  No one interrupts you, no one looks at you, and any other activity around you is really boring.

So... Ta-DAH!  Watch out, Grandpa B, I'm comin' for your spot!

It feels incredibly odd to have one of these.  It's the taboo spot!  I can't park there!  But thankful for the provision to make our lives easier.

Also note:  It says TEMPORARY.  Yes indeed, it is.  Thank you, God, that we anticipate that this will not be in our lives forever, and Grandpa can have his spot back.

The kids are getting really excited that Dad is coming home, especially Søren.  He has all kinds of plans.  Well, mainly Legos and Minecraft.  "Mom, Dad's legs don't have to work to do that with me!"  I'm glad they have a sense of humor about it.  Lucy kind of fell off her chair, and said, "Don't worry, Mom, I didn't break my spine like Dad!"

And just to freak you out, Mom and Dad, we will be switching sides of the bed so that Steve has room for his walker.  I hope you guys read this in the morning, because I know you wouldn't sleep a wink otherwise.

So tonight we switch everyone (but Lucy!) up here -- Mimi and Papa to the tent trailer in the back, Søren back in his bed, me back in mine.  Steve will sleep his last night in a hospital bed, making a total of 19 nights.  And tomorrow begins the next adventure!

They made this for Dad's wheelchair spot 

It says:  "Wheelchair Parking.  Steve Only (OK anyone with a wheelchair)":  

The kids' last goodbye at the hospital!