Posted by rae on Dec 11, 2007 in
Mom's Corner What cannot be explained is most often left to interpretation. I can only tell you that the MRI results showed torn meniscus and/or torn cartilage. Arthroscopic surgery was scheduled. After the doctor reviewed the MRI for the second time, our pre-op conversation with the doctor was that he would sever the torn cartilage and hopefully be able to repair the injuries. I can only tell you that in the operating room last night, the doctor saw no meniscus tear, no torn cartilage, only scar tissue that did not show on the MRI. At 9pm, the doctor came to the waiting room scratching his head. “There is only good news,” he said. ” We removed some scar tissue but other than that, Michael’s knee is fine. There will be swelling and discomfort from the surgery but everything in and surrounding his knee is healthy. There were no tears.” What cannot be explained is most often left to interpretation.
I think the faces of medicine usually mock people that believe in the power of prayer and the belief that healing energy is created with prayer, because it cannot be explained. I can’t explain why or how Michael continues to beat the odds, or how the MRI showed tears and then there were none. Long before the accident on October 21st, I believed that there was a curve in the road ahead. A curve that would change our lives, Michael’s life forever. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know when, I only knew that it was out there. Out there waiting. I can’t explain why I awoke that Sunday morning at almost the exact moment of Michael’s impact and felt the injury in my heart. It will be left to interpretation.
These days, Michael draws strength and peace with the quiet moments of the day. He absorbs and enjoys the quiet, seems to heal in it’s silence.
From Mitch Albom’s book “For One More Day”
“What causes an echo? The persistence of sound after the source has stopped.”
“When can you hear an echo? When it’s quiet and other sounds are absorbed.”
In the quiet moments with Michael, when all sound is absorbed, I hear. I hear, I feel the presence of God. I can’t explain it, it’s just my interpretation, my belief. I believe in the power of prayer.
xxoo
Posted by rae on Dec 11, 2007 in
Mom's Corner After a late night mix up with “where does mike go?”, he ended up on the fourth floor in a temporary recovery room over night. If you’ll remember Mike’s conversation with Sylvette, waking in the morning is now Mike’s favorite time of the day. But not today. This morning he awoke to unfamiliar faces, in pain in an unfamiliar place, for a patient with a brain injury, probably not a great way to begin the day. By mid-morning, he was finally back in his room on the fifth floor. Mike had little time to rest between hospital red tape and three new evaluations for therapy (don’t get me started!) and then three full hours of therapy…Mike looked and felt like he had been run over by a truck. He was physically and mentally tapped out.
Let’s hope a good nights rest leads to a better tomorrow. Good night Michael. Good night John boy.
Posted by rae on Dec 10, 2007 in
Mom's Corner As Michael’s strength returns and his physical confidence is confirmed, he shows each day that he is determined to restore his independence. The “danger ahead” feelings that I’ve had through the years still find their place in my inner mind. Reminded of a conversation with the evening nurse on Mike’s first night at Mt. Vernon…he said that as patients improve, their jobs here on the 5th floor, are very challenging and at times, overwhelming. Patients recovering from brain injury, are sometimes their own worst enemies. A watchful eye becomes increasingly neccesary when the patient is making great strides and believes that they can do it alone.
Michael has been walking with his therapist over the last few days and enjoying every moment of it. While visiting with Uncle Ron and Aunt Kirsten on Sunday, Mike stood up from his wheelchair and attempted to move to another chair at the table without asking for assistance. Showing off? Perhaps. He says that physical therapy is the highlight of his day and what he looks forward to most. Speech and occupational therapy require much more brain power, not as easy to get through and not the same instant gratification that walking up and down a flight of stairs twice brings.
There had been no cries for help this morning, no calls for assistance when the nurse found Michael sitting on the floor between his bed and the window. When they asked Michael how he got there, where he was going and was he hurt, he had no idea and could not answer. He told me later in the afternoon that he tried to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. Bobby asked later in the evening, and Mike denied falling. The incident scared Michael and alarmed the nurses but other than a sore shoulder and perhaps a bruised tail bone, I think he’s ok. He’s been restless most of the day and trying to figure out what hurts but he still isn’t sure if what he feels is from climbing the stairs twice or from the fall.
Michael will have surgery on his right knee tonight and if all goes well, within two days, the knee that has probably been injured all along, will finally be pain free.
it is 7:15pm and Mike is getting ready surgery. Dr. Levine said that surgery should take about 40 minutes and 2 to 3 days to heal.
Posted by rae on Dec 8, 2007 in
Mom's Corner The wow factor, the “wow”ness of it all finds me almost at a loss for words. There is so much to say, so much progress that it is mind boggling. The ground breaking events of the last week started slowly but when they added Ritalin to the picture, the momentum increased so quickly that it was sometimes hard to keep up with each “new” .
I left you at the family meeting, so I’ll pick up where I left off. It was a round table discussion of Michael’s progress from his admission to Mt. Vernon Rehab on 11/21 to the family meeting on 12/6 and the plan for the following weeks. Each therapist had a turn to speak with Michael’s doctor speaking first. He spoke of their combined pleasure with his progress and asked if we were. He gave us an update from the xray of the fractured vertebrae T1-T4 (no shifting, no changes, still healing), and the plan for arthroscopic knee surgery on Monday to snip off the piece of torn cartilage. About having the optometrist across the street fit Michael for glasses in the coming week and about beginning a Ritalin schedule that would hopefully assist with jump starting initiation. To our delight, the doctors update ended with a forecast for another four weeks at Mt. Vernon.
Each therapist spoke of Michael’s progress and his never ending desire to push harder. The common denominator with each therapist was the frontal lobe damage and it’s effect on Michael’s ability to initiate action in all areas. With speech in particular, his therapist spoke of the obvious signs of fatigue and how it creates a “shut down” of sorts to Michael’s brain. They all reminded us again of the importance of keeping visits no longer than 15-20 minutes at a time with a minimum of the same amount of time in between. To be aware of our own antics and heightened activity. To be calm and positive in nature when speaking. That too much noise and too many visitors can slow his progress.
It’s so easy to get caught up in all the visible “good stuff” that we forget about how damaged his brain is and far he has to go. The Ritalin kicked in and so did the language and conversational milestones, the humor, although still weaker on the right side, walking 67 feet with minimal support using both legs, using both arms and hands to maneuver and support. The new found ability to move his right leg and to pull himself up from the bed to his chair with almost no support. Unless you make yourself look deeper, this guy is superman. All this week when the speech therapist asked Mike where he was, he would answer “Walter Reed Hospital”. She asked why he thought he was at Walter Reed and with a big grin, Mike answered “that’s where super heroes go”.
Saturday was a beautiful day, sunny and almost 50 degrees. Donned with jacket, hat, shoes and very cool sunglasses, David took Mike out for 35 minutes to enjoy his first breath of fresh air since the “almost” last breath on October 21, 2007. Sylvette asked Michael on Friday what his favorite time of the day was and Michael answered “Waking up. I love waking up.” Yeah Michael, we love that part too.
He is so pleasant and easy to be around. He smiles at everyone, he laughs when you laugh, he remembers, our super hero makes us feel good when we’re around him, everyone rejoices and wants to be in his company, to be a part of this miracle unfolding. We are all so thrilled, so thankful that he is here that we forget how fragile and vunerable he is. We must protect him still and we cannot lose sight of that.
Please visit him. He needs to know that you’re there cheering him on, still believing in him. The therapists say that we, Michael’s huge support group, are an integral part of his recovery. Just be conscious of his surroundings…how long have you been there? does he look tired? are you just asking questions? is he only saying “yeah, uh huh”? If so, he’s tired. Tell him about what’s going on in your life, pause in between subjects. Don’t be afraid to ask him if he’s ok, if he needs or would like a little quiet time. He will tell you if you ask. He won’t, if you don’t. He will keep smiling and trying to make you feel good.
Be real, don’t feel like you have to entertain him or keep conversation going all the time. Quiet in between is ok and helps him regroup. It is the quality of your visit that counts, not the quantity of time spent.
Posted by rae on Dec 5, 2007 in
Medical Updates Everything is going smooth…no major changes but many observations to share. Our first family meeting is Thursday at 2pm with all of Mike’s therapists, his doctor and hospital case manager. Hopefully there will be lots to share. I apologize for no real updates…it sometimes takes it’s toll. I’ll be back at it tomorrow. Till then…
xxoo
Posted by rae on Dec 4, 2007 in
Mom's Corner Shear injury w/ abnormal edema of corpus callosum R>L
L cerebellar shear
mid-brain shear
multifocal areas of hemorrhage and edema in both frontal lobes w/combination of contusion and shear
multifocal shear injury w/hemorrhagic contusion
These are the results of Michael’s initial MRI within the first days in Trauma ICU. If there was ever any doubt that what we are witnessing with Michael’s recovery is anything less than a miracle, do a little research.
“The steadfast love of the Lord NEVER ceases. His mercies, they NEVER come to an end. They are new EVERY morning. Great is thy faithfulness, O God. Great is THY faithfulness.” (even in the midst of our undeserving lives) Lam. 3:22&23
Never really planning to publicly disclose the details of that first MRI but I was so touched when reading that bible verse this evening on the blog. I thought maybe with the MRI information, you would have an unmistakable understanding of the severity of the injuries to Michael’s brain and for each step toward his recovery. Why, what we’ve seen thus far increases my faith in miracles.
Each day as I watch Michael push himself to exhaustion, I am so humbled to be a part of this. I know I will describe my feeling as humbled over and over again, but there is no better way to express the way I feel. I am humbled.
Observing an Occupational Therapy session at 1 o’clock where weaknesses in Michael’s functioning level affect the simplest of tasks. We’re on Easy Street (it’s the coolest part of the rehab center) and he’s at the grocery store. Take 8 potatoes and put them in the shopping basket. How many times have you effortlessly done something like this? Michael struggles to pick up one vegetable from the bin and place it in a shopping basket. He has the knowledge. He looks at his hand, he looks at the bin, he knows what to do. You can see the struggle between mind and body as he tries first to lean forward, then to initiate the arm movement to get his hand close enough, to initiate finger movement to grasp. He has the potato. He sits back to rest. He sits up, he leans forward, he moves his arm to place the vegetable in the basket but has trouble releasing the potato in the basket. A short rest and then lets go. It is running a mile, it is solving a problem in a physics course, it is one potato, there are 8. There will be red peppers to follow. Other than the ride to and from his room, these 8 potatos and 8 red peppers consumed the entire hour. This session was preceded by 10 AM Speech Therapy and would be followed with Physical Therapy at 3pm.
I ask after Physical Therapy and an extra hour in his chair, ”how’s your day going, honey? How do you think you’re doing?” There is such hope in his eyes as he says “I think I’m doing good”. He responds without a hint of “I can’t do it… it hurts… I’m tired…poor me”. There is no discontent, there is no dissatisfaction, there is no complaining. Michael has always been driven to succeed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him back down from a challenge. He knows that to achieve big things, you work hard.
There is no doubt in my mind that Michael believes he can do this. We believe he can do this. “All things you ask in prayer, if you believe, you shall receive”. Matthew 21:22
Posted by rae on Dec 3, 2007 in
Mom's Corner After showing the nurses that he could swallow pills without difficulty, and almost a week of “it’s ready to come out”, the feeding peg was finally removed from Michael’s abdomen. The peripheral IV line in his left hand was also taken out. All medications will now be administered orally. The doctor ordered an updated x-ray of the T2 and T3 fractures of his back to make sure that there have been no adverse changes due to the increased physical therapy. Remember in the beginning when the doctors said, “there are no injuries other than the head injury? I think what they meant to say was “except for the five inch gash on the back of his head and the torn cartilage in his knee and oh yeah, the fractured T2 - T4 vertebrae in his back.”
Mike was seated in his chair from 12:45 to 4:15 without becoming agitated or getting too uncomfortable. He was moved to the chair for Occupational Therapy at 12:45 for his 1 o’clock session and as routine has it, he continues to sit up and out of his bed a little longer each day.
I was able to sit in on a one hour speech therapy session and it was a wonder to behold. The therapist began the session with a series of questions to test his cognitive abilities. What is your name? “Jennings Michael David Rosner”. What is your date of birth? “June 18th 1982″. It’s Monday, December 3rd. Do you know what year it is? “2007″ what month is it? “November” No, what month comes after November? Michael started to say February but stopped as the word left his mouth trying to change it to December and what came out was “fevtemcer” She asks “what month is it?” “December” Mike answers articulately. Do you know why you are here Mike? “yes. I was in a car accident” What are you doing here? “I am getting rehabilitation” Why? “because I need help” What do you need help with? “everything”.
If you went to a dentist would he cut your hair? “no, if you went to a dentist he would cut your teeth” He would cut your teeth? “no, he would clean and fix your teeth”. If you had been sitting in your chair too long what would you need? “I would need to be released from my chair”. If a baby was crying, why would that baby cry? “the baby would cry because it might be hungry or just spoiled” She laughs. What was that last part? Mike chuckles too, “it might just be spoiled.”
She ends the session and shares that in her opinion, Michael has full access to his mind’s knowledge. The memory of what has been learned in his 25 years is there. Today he is far from 100% and may not be able to initiate conversation, he may not be able to articulate 100% of the time and he may not be able to initiate movement but his mind is there. His powerful, intelligent, creative, driven, strong mind is there. No doubt.
Another awesome day with Michael. Another thank you to God for his many blessings. Another thank you to family and friends for without you, your prayers, your generosity, and your support we would not be where we are today. I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in miracles. I believe we are in the midst.
Posted by rae on Dec 2, 2007 in
Mom's Corner As Nate and Mike were having a good laugh last night, Michael says, “we have alot of good memories.” Thank God he has memories.
There are families on this fifth floor that would trade places with us in a heartbeat. Although they are strolling their sons in wheelchairs, the very essence of their child is gone. The works of that four-pound blob that rests inside our skull not only controls our ability to move, to smell, to hear and to speak but determines our sense of self. Watching as Michael and Nathan laugh, I see the essence of Michael. This is more than we were told to expect, but this is exactly what we prayed for.
The dialogues, the recent questions and search for memory of the accident, the humor, the amazing strength to persevere and overcome the daily challenges are the most fascinating aspects of Michael’s recovery. However, there is still that tremendous sadness lurking over my shoulder. I push it away so I don’t see it, I don’t want to feel it. Traumatic brain injury by definition is an altered state of consciousness that results in physical and mental impairment. I find an altered state of consciousness sometimes. Somewhere just outside the harsh reality. Sometimes you have to.
I am a mother. I breathe in, I breathe out, and my strength is restored. I remember that I am truly blessed to be a part of this amazing child’s life. Blessed beyond what Michael’s doctors could see. I remember that the journey is the reward. I begin again. I thank God again.
xxoo
Posted by rae on Dec 1, 2007 in
Mom's Corner The occupational therapist asks “Mike, what is your phone number?” and without hesitation Mike gives her the entire number for his beloved Blackberry. She looks at me without Mike noticing and with a silent “is that right?”, I nod my head yes. Sitting in front of the telephone she asks Mike to dial his number, but he is not yet able to lift his arms or hands to initiate the physical process.
We’re seeing that the most frustrating factor for Michael is the injury he sustained to the frontal lobes of his brain. There are a wide variety of functions associated with damage to either frontal lobe and Michael has damage to both. As a result, we see uncontrollable repeated impulses like the movement in his left leg, rubbing the incision area of the left side of his head, finger in, on or around his nose and the frequent inability to initiate speech or action. He knows what he wants to say and knows what he needs or wants to do, but not always able to make it happen.
But lots of good things happen everyday…
Bobby says - “Mike, how was OT today?” Mike asks ”occupational therapy? “ and proudly Bobby answers ”Yes, occupational therapy”
I say to Michael and the OT that Nate and Sylvette are bringing pizza from Tony’s to Mike. She asks Mike what his favorite pizza is and he answers “pepperoni”.
Mike mentions to David about an hour later, that he’s getting pepperoni pizza today. Did you catch that? That was short term memory. That’s huge.
I notice that the toes of his right foot that he rarely, almost never moves, are moving as they support his left foot.
Mike seated in a chair crosses his left leg over his right, with a shoe in his hand puts his foot halfway in the shoe. Puts the left foot on the floor and pushes his foot all the way in.
With a bum knee that can bear no weight and with support but no assistance, Mike gets out of his wheelchair and into the bed.
David says - “I love you, son. It’s ok to say it back. It’s ok to say I love you Dad.” Mike says ” I love you Dad”. Proud as a peacock and smiling from ear to ear David says “did you hear that? He said I love you Dad!”
Mike says to Emily “I love you too Emily”
When Amanda enters the room, Mike says ” Well, I’ll be…” Amanda says “you’ll be what?” Mike answers with a smile “a monkey’s uncle.”
Tina Turner song asks “what’s love got to do with it?’
We say “EVERYTHING!”
We love you Michael - LIVESTRONG.
I don’t know why and it is hard to explain but that statement told me Mike is going to be OK. I’m waiting for your help bud…get well.