Today I had to do one of my least favorite things, go to the dentist. I didn't hate it as a child. In fact, I looked forward to it. Our dentist was one of my best friend's dad. My friend had Muscular Dystrophy. We went all the way through school together. He was the first person I ever met with that dread disease and at the young age of six, I never dreamed it would take his life. We were the best of buddies. Everyday through grade school, we were forced to have rest period. I remember he was taken out of his wheelchair each day and laid flat on a table. I always made sure I had the cot beside his, and we would talk and giggle the hour away. He was very, very funny. He couldn't move any of his limbs and even had difficulty holding his head up. His father, being a doctor, had hired a college student to be his aid. He had a personal aid till the day he died.
His dad was a wonderful man. Going to see him at his office was always fun. It was easy to see where my friend got his sense of humor. Father and son, were very close. It was difficult for my dentist to deal with the diagnoses of his son and facing a future without him was overwhelming. So much so, that one fateful evening, my dentist shot himself. We were just young teens. I don't think he could bare to watch his young son die. My friend and his sister were the one's to discover the body. If he had only known that his son would make it all through high school, graduate from college and have a well respected position at the university. MD did eventually take his life but he and his daddy would have had many, many more years together. Ever sense then, I have hated going to the dentist.
By the time I was 25, I had lost many wonderful, precious friends to that disease. Watched them wither away until God called them home.
I pray that God will continue to give wisdom to the men and women who seek a cure.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Always A Marine
I wanted to continue my dad's amazing story of God's perfect plan in his life. When we are affected by a tragedy or trial in our life all we can think is, this can't be good. Maybe we question God and want to know just what He is thinking! I always told dad he had to endure all of that because one day he would have a little daughter who would need him to show her how to survive a tragedy in her own little life. As true as that was, little did I know that there was going to be so much more to his story.
About 16 years ago on a cold February day in the Midwest, my dad had my mom drive him out to scout camp so he could meet some guys to haul some down trees out of the woods so they could be split. The other guys didn't show up but dad figured he wasn't going to waste the day, so got the tractor out and proceeded with the task at hand. My dad loved to drive the tractor. I think because he couldn't drive a car, he got a certain amount of satisfaction from driving a tractor. Anyway, dad had chained up a log and it got snagged. So he got off the tractor to roll it loose and climbed back up on his seat to give it one more try. As he looked over his shoulder to see that all was going well, the tractor flipped over backwards, pinning him underneath.
We don't know how long he laid under that tractor but his watch broke at 9:30AM. Somehow he managed to dig himself out. We are thinking the blood from his head injury had thawed the ground enough that with one hand, he was able to free himself. Did I say head injury? Oh yes, major head injury. The gear shift and steering wheel from the tractor literally destroyed half his face and forehead. One eye was out of it's socket. Upon digging himself out, somehow he made his way another 1/2 mile to the lodge where he administered his own first aid by wrapping his head in kitchen towels and then calling my mom at work to tell her he had hurt himself and that she might want to take him to the hospital. That call was made at noon. We really don't know how daddy made it out and to the lodge. We feel his guardian angel carried him and I think he does too. To this day, there are still so many unanswered questions.
So mom arrives to find him sitting in a chair with a towel wrapped around his head....she has no idea the extent of the injury. He won't allow her to leave without locking everything up and then off they go to the ER.
The young neurosurgeon that is assigned to my dad had been attending a brain symposium that just happened to be in our town that very week and the #3 neurosurgeon with Mayo Clinic was the keynote speaker. He asked him if he wouldn't mind staying to oversee dad's surgery the next day. He agrees and then when they were done he hopped on a plane and we never heard from him again. Dad's brain surgery was tricky because of the old war injury. There was a cavity in my dad's head where the bullet had been removed and then a steel plate was placed over it to protect the area. That cavity cushioned the blow to his head that cold February day and the steel plate protected his brain. My dad had no brain damage!!! His eye was put back in it's socket and he could see, he went through hours of plastic surgery and guess what? He still looks like daddy. So the tragedy that touched his life 50 years prior, saved his own life that day. Just don't take him through a metal detector!
I am very blessed to still have both my parents and they both continue to amaze me with their strength and love for family, friends and most of all, their Lord and Savior.
About 16 years ago on a cold February day in the Midwest, my dad had my mom drive him out to scout camp so he could meet some guys to haul some down trees out of the woods so they could be split. The other guys didn't show up but dad figured he wasn't going to waste the day, so got the tractor out and proceeded with the task at hand. My dad loved to drive the tractor. I think because he couldn't drive a car, he got a certain amount of satisfaction from driving a tractor. Anyway, dad had chained up a log and it got snagged. So he got off the tractor to roll it loose and climbed back up on his seat to give it one more try. As he looked over his shoulder to see that all was going well, the tractor flipped over backwards, pinning him underneath.
We don't know how long he laid under that tractor but his watch broke at 9:30AM. Somehow he managed to dig himself out. We are thinking the blood from his head injury had thawed the ground enough that with one hand, he was able to free himself. Did I say head injury? Oh yes, major head injury. The gear shift and steering wheel from the tractor literally destroyed half his face and forehead. One eye was out of it's socket. Upon digging himself out, somehow he made his way another 1/2 mile to the lodge where he administered his own first aid by wrapping his head in kitchen towels and then calling my mom at work to tell her he had hurt himself and that she might want to take him to the hospital. That call was made at noon. We really don't know how daddy made it out and to the lodge. We feel his guardian angel carried him and I think he does too. To this day, there are still so many unanswered questions.
So mom arrives to find him sitting in a chair with a towel wrapped around his head....she has no idea the extent of the injury. He won't allow her to leave without locking everything up and then off they go to the ER.
The young neurosurgeon that is assigned to my dad had been attending a brain symposium that just happened to be in our town that very week and the #3 neurosurgeon with Mayo Clinic was the keynote speaker. He asked him if he wouldn't mind staying to oversee dad's surgery the next day. He agrees and then when they were done he hopped on a plane and we never heard from him again. Dad's brain surgery was tricky because of the old war injury. There was a cavity in my dad's head where the bullet had been removed and then a steel plate was placed over it to protect the area. That cavity cushioned the blow to his head that cold February day and the steel plate protected his brain. My dad had no brain damage!!! His eye was put back in it's socket and he could see, he went through hours of plastic surgery and guess what? He still looks like daddy. So the tragedy that touched his life 50 years prior, saved his own life that day. Just don't take him through a metal detector!
I am very blessed to still have both my parents and they both continue to amaze me with their strength and love for family, friends and most of all, their Lord and Savior.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Once A Marine
My daddy is the ultimate example of God's plan at work. He is a World War II Disabled Veteran. A Marine who was shot in the head on the beaches of Okinawa. This left the nerves on one side of his body paralyzed, no feeling whatsoever. Sometimes this worked to his advantage. At age 82 he broke out with shingles on his back but he didn't even know he had them. Mom just happened to spot the rash. Shingles is a very painful condition for most. As children on a long trip we would amuse ourselves by trying our best to hurt him. We would pinch him or stick him with something and say "Did you feel that?" His answer was always "no". What a good sport he was and still is. Daddy never drove a car after his injury but really, other than that, he did not let his disability become an excuse for not being all that he could be and he became quite a man.
My grandfather thought it would be good therapy for my dad to become involved in helping him with his Boy Scout Troop. Daddy retired from being a scout master after 55 years. Had it not been for dad's injury, he may have never gotten involved in scouting. I am in awe at all the young men's lives he as influenced over 55 years time. He even had the one millionth Eagle Scout in the nation in his troop. He has been given every possible award that can be given in scouting.
Not only did his injury jump start this passion for scouting but it also prepared him to be the father of a disabled child. My daddy has always been my example of how living with a disability can spark an ability in you to do other things. Therefore you are not disabled but enabled.
So now the Lord has put me in a loving Christian home with a mother who is physically able to care for me and emotionally able to not shelter or over protect me and to let me fly. He has given me a father who will instill in me the "no limits" attitude to make it in this world. God has put me in a town with all the resources I need to learn my independence. Can you see God's hand yet? Well there is more to my dad's story. Something that will leave you without question, God's plan. There are no coincidences in life people. Just God's perfect plan. He makes no mistakes.
My grandfather thought it would be good therapy for my dad to become involved in helping him with his Boy Scout Troop. Daddy retired from being a scout master after 55 years. Had it not been for dad's injury, he may have never gotten involved in scouting. I am in awe at all the young men's lives he as influenced over 55 years time. He even had the one millionth Eagle Scout in the nation in his troop. He has been given every possible award that can be given in scouting.
Not only did his injury jump start this passion for scouting but it also prepared him to be the father of a disabled child. My daddy has always been my example of how living with a disability can spark an ability in you to do other things. Therefore you are not disabled but enabled.
So now the Lord has put me in a loving Christian home with a mother who is physically able to care for me and emotionally able to not shelter or over protect me and to let me fly. He has given me a father who will instill in me the "no limits" attitude to make it in this world. God has put me in a town with all the resources I need to learn my independence. Can you see God's hand yet? Well there is more to my dad's story. Something that will leave you without question, God's plan. There are no coincidences in life people. Just God's perfect plan. He makes no mistakes.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
There Really Is A Plan
The Lord has given me the awesome opportunity to do some public speaking. So many people see this as a huge fear, I love it. Now don't put me in an MRI machine or a cave but telling what God has done for me and how he has used my life, is such a honor.
We are made by the Master Designer. He has a plan for each one of us and is continually preparing us for what lies ahead. When I had polio, God allowed it. He didn't strike me down with it or it wasn't a punishment of some kind. But He allowed it so it could be used to bring honor and glory to Him. He did not leave me helpless. He made sure I had the parents I needed to have, lived in the town I needed to live in and gave me the talents and abilities I needed to have.
I was born in a Midwestern college town. This college had a school for disabled children on campus. So God's plan was for me to live in this town and go to this school. He provided my mother with the strengths and abilities she would need to care for a disabled child. She was the second girl in her family and grandpa was sure she would be a boy. When she wasn't, he tried to do the next best thing, turn her into a tomboy. He nicknamed her Billy and he taught her to be strong. She could fix anything, lift anything and even drive anything. As a child she might've been a little resentful of this tomboy lifestyle but little did she know that God was preparing her to be the mother of a child that she would need to carry, years past the time of lifting a child. My son worked in a nursing home for awhile. He said, "I don't know what God is preparing me for but I'm sure it's something." I told him it was to take care of me.
Most importantly, God gave me a Christian family. Without the faith that I witnessed in my parents and grandparents I may not have been so willing to take it as my own. I am sure if you look back on your life and some of the challenges you have experienced or may be experiencing now, think of how God has prepared you, because I know He has.
We are made by the Master Designer. He has a plan for each one of us and is continually preparing us for what lies ahead. When I had polio, God allowed it. He didn't strike me down with it or it wasn't a punishment of some kind. But He allowed it so it could be used to bring honor and glory to Him. He did not leave me helpless. He made sure I had the parents I needed to have, lived in the town I needed to live in and gave me the talents and abilities I needed to have.
I was born in a Midwestern college town. This college had a school for disabled children on campus. So God's plan was for me to live in this town and go to this school. He provided my mother with the strengths and abilities she would need to care for a disabled child. She was the second girl in her family and grandpa was sure she would be a boy. When she wasn't, he tried to do the next best thing, turn her into a tomboy. He nicknamed her Billy and he taught her to be strong. She could fix anything, lift anything and even drive anything. As a child she might've been a little resentful of this tomboy lifestyle but little did she know that God was preparing her to be the mother of a child that she would need to carry, years past the time of lifting a child. My son worked in a nursing home for awhile. He said, "I don't know what God is preparing me for but I'm sure it's something." I told him it was to take care of me.
Most importantly, God gave me a Christian family. Without the faith that I witnessed in my parents and grandparents I may not have been so willing to take it as my own. I am sure if you look back on your life and some of the challenges you have experienced or may be experiencing now, think of how God has prepared you, because I know He has.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Boot Scoot Boogie
Soon I would get to go home. My grandfather R. made all kinds of contraptions for me to get around in. I probably had the first skateboard. He made a square board with wheels on the bottom for me to scoot around on. It wasn't long and I left the board behind and was scooting around on my own. Even after I got my braces, I would come home after school, and kick them off, much like you kick off your shoes, and scoot where I needed to go. I am sure some of my girlfriends and family will remember those days. My mom spent a lot of time cleaning tar and grass stains off the bottom of my clothes. Nothing stopped me. Barriers are things we create for ourselves. Were there things I could not do? Of course. But I didn't dwell on it, I just found another way to be involved. But trust me when I say, if there was something I really wanted to do...I found a way.
Oh and be careful what you wish for. You just might get it. Ride'em Cowboy!
Friday, September 2, 2011
A Mother's Worst Fear
I just had my second birthday. I'm sure my mom was thinking, "Here we go again, the terrible two's!" After living through it with my older brother, who could blame her. Just kidding. Had to get a dig in at the big brother, you know how it is! Anyway, it was a warm October day. It's what we call in the Midwest an Indian Summer Day. Mom had taken us for a little walk. Like most two year olds, everything went into my mouth along with my fingers. I had found an enchanting piece of used gum on the ground and immediately picked it up. My precious mommy, slapped it out of my hands and probably told me how nasty it was and so I then just put my fingers in my mouth. Well that's life for an average two-year-old and possibly the action that caused the most inconceivable reaction.
Next morning, bright and early, my older brother and best friend in the world came to get me up so we could go downstairs and have breakfast. That was our routine, only this particular morning I was not cooperating with him. As a four year old, this was very perplexing. He decided to bring mom in on it or just plain tattle. So she took him by the hand and they were off to investigate the situation. What she found had to have made her heart sink. For lying in the bed, was her precious baby girl, not able to move an inch or cry a tear.
She lifted me up and carried me down the stairs. I was a rag doll. She called our Dr. and he said he would be there soon. Yes, you heard me all you young people. The Dr. was going to come to the house. Just like Little House on the Prairie but you didn't need to send Pa. A simple phone call would do. Due to the polio epidemic the Dr. didn't make it there till evening. I was taken to the hospital and put in quarantine and not even my mother was allowed in. After a spinal tap, which I don't remember, thank goodness, their fears were confirmed. It was polio.
It was an old Catholic hospital. The nurses were Nuns, all in full habit. My mom rode the bus to the hospital everyday in hopes that she would be able to see her baby girl that day. But each day she was turned away. "No, not yet, maybe tomorrow." Finally she just couldn't take one more rejection. I wonder if she feared that I was even still alive and they were all too afraid to tell her the truth. So, she began to cry. An elderly nun, took compassion on her and said "Come with me". She took her to a window that led out onto the roof. The picture I have in my head of this old nun and my mom crawling out a window of this old hospital onto the roof, just makes me giggle. Standing on this roof, my mom looked through my window. She saw me and I saw her for the first time. Her heart rejoiced and my heart cried out, for the first time. I had made a sound. It was time to celebrate. So began the long recovery.
Next morning, bright and early, my older brother and best friend in the world came to get me up so we could go downstairs and have breakfast. That was our routine, only this particular morning I was not cooperating with him. As a four year old, this was very perplexing. He decided to bring mom in on it or just plain tattle. So she took him by the hand and they were off to investigate the situation. What she found had to have made her heart sink. For lying in the bed, was her precious baby girl, not able to move an inch or cry a tear.
She lifted me up and carried me down the stairs. I was a rag doll. She called our Dr. and he said he would be there soon. Yes, you heard me all you young people. The Dr. was going to come to the house. Just like Little House on the Prairie but you didn't need to send Pa. A simple phone call would do. Due to the polio epidemic the Dr. didn't make it there till evening. I was taken to the hospital and put in quarantine and not even my mother was allowed in. After a spinal tap, which I don't remember, thank goodness, their fears were confirmed. It was polio.
It was an old Catholic hospital. The nurses were Nuns, all in full habit. My mom rode the bus to the hospital everyday in hopes that she would be able to see her baby girl that day. But each day she was turned away. "No, not yet, maybe tomorrow." Finally she just couldn't take one more rejection. I wonder if she feared that I was even still alive and they were all too afraid to tell her the truth. So, she began to cry. An elderly nun, took compassion on her and said "Come with me". She took her to a window that led out onto the roof. The picture I have in my head of this old nun and my mom crawling out a window of this old hospital onto the roof, just makes me giggle. Standing on this roof, my mom looked through my window. She saw me and I saw her for the first time. Her heart rejoiced and my heart cried out, for the first time. I had made a sound. It was time to celebrate. So began the long recovery.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Finders Keepers
I never really liked that game of Finders Keepers. Somehow it just didn't seem fair unless, of course, I was the one finding. But what you will find in my blog will be for you to keep for as long as you want or can remember it, which would be till tomorrow in my case.
I was born in 1950 so I am a classic "Baby Boomer". This makes me 60 about to turn 61 for all those who are math challenged like myself. It's funny how on paper you are classified as a senior citizen but on the inside you feel like you're still 20. This is where I have an advantage over some of you. Sense I have spent most of my life on wheels, my knees and hips are not about to give out. It seems like everyone is getting their knee or knees replaced. My worry is a flat tire. But bing-bada-boom and it's fixed, (a couple hundred dollars later I might add). Being disabled does not come cheap but I am so grateful for the technology of today that allows me to be very independent.
So what you will find here are some funny or touching but always true stories, some scripture that has been special to me and stories of the many wonderful people who have left their footprints on my life. That was going to be the name of one of the several books I started, "Footprints on My Life". Pretty good, huh? Too bad I never wrote it.
So tomorrow we will go back to the fall of 1952. The day that this journey began. The day I woke up completely paralyzed. So talk to you then. In the meantime, God Bless You
I was born in 1950 so I am a classic "Baby Boomer". This makes me 60 about to turn 61 for all those who are math challenged like myself. It's funny how on paper you are classified as a senior citizen but on the inside you feel like you're still 20. This is where I have an advantage over some of you. Sense I have spent most of my life on wheels, my knees and hips are not about to give out. It seems like everyone is getting their knee or knees replaced. My worry is a flat tire. But bing-bada-boom and it's fixed, (a couple hundred dollars later I might add). Being disabled does not come cheap but I am so grateful for the technology of today that allows me to be very independent.
So what you will find here are some funny or touching but always true stories, some scripture that has been special to me and stories of the many wonderful people who have left their footprints on my life. That was going to be the name of one of the several books I started, "Footprints on My Life". Pretty good, huh? Too bad I never wrote it.
So tomorrow we will go back to the fall of 1952. The day that this journey began. The day I woke up completely paralyzed. So talk to you then. In the meantime, God Bless You
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