I regret to have to announce that Holly Korzilius suffered an accident today while aerotowing at Manquin Flight Park.
I was asked to post this by Scott Wilkenson, just to let everyone know what's going on. I have very few details, and I only know what Scott told me.
He did not see the accident himself. Apparently, Holly got locked out around 50' off the ground, while flying her Litesport. The line broke, and while still in the process of recovering, she impacted the ground.
She was taken to the hospital in Richmond by ambulance. She was conscious, and able to move arms/legs/fingers/toes.
At 17:45, Scott told me that he the doctors had examined her, and found no sign of neck or back trauma. She has suffered "some facial fractures" and a minor concussion. According to Scott, her face is going to look pretty beat up for a while, but she should otherwise be all right.
Scott will post more when he can, and in the meantime thanks everyone for their prayers and support.
~Ralph
Holly's Accident
Moderator: CHGPA BOD
Thanks Ralph for the early post. I wanted to update everyone on Holly's condition before going to bed. It's been a long day, many tears, much stress.
As Ralph mentioned, I didn't see Holly's accident, but Steve Wendt saw it all (as did several others). For now, all I'm comfortable saying is that Holly opted to aerotow on her Moyes Litesport. From what Steve told me, she experienced oscillations shortly after takeoff which quickly became severe. At an altitude somewhere between 50 and 100 feet (We don't know for sure) there was a lockout situation with the glider at a near 90-degree angle. When a line broke (I don't know which one), Holly's glider recoiled backwards, almost fully inverted, then partially recovered in a dive toward the ground.
Steve saw Holly pulling in for speed. He speculated had she been 10-20' higher, she might have made it...and 10-20' lower, she could have died. Whatever the case, she hit the ground hard at something less than a vertical angle. Her Charley Insider full-face helmet was broken through in two places (the chin and next to her eye), and Steve believes the breaks absorbed some of the impact and probably saved her life.
I was sitting in my truck when Tim Eggers ran up and said "Call 911 Scott, Holly's had a bad accident." My mind raced, almost not believing Tim, but without realizing it I was up and sprinting across the field, unable to call 911, throwing my phone at someone at the crash site.
Holly lay on the ground tangled up in her glider. She looked bad, but was moving both arms and both legs, which we took as a hopeful sign. Hank Hengst took command of the situation, taking one of Holly's hands while I held the other and spoke reassuringly to her. Hank immediately cut away the sail partially blocking her while we supported her head and tried our best to keep her immobile. Holly appeared incoherent, her breathing labored, and I don't know if she really knew who we were.
I asked someone if we could get some shade over Holly, and several pilots grabbed her chute and spread it in a canopy over all of us, keeping the hot sun off Holly's face.
I silently cursed every minute that passed without the ambulance arriving, my mind still racing, praying that Holly would be alright. After what seemed an eternity (but was probably 15-20 minutes) the ambulance arrived, and after cutting Holly from her harness the paramedics had her on a backboard, then the gurney. I hopped into the ambulance, tears welling in my eyes, and we sped off to MCV Hospital in downtown Richmond, about 25 minutes away.
Holly arrived at the ER at 1:15pm. It was 3pm before I knew anything. That 90 minutes was hell, and I clung to every positive sign I'd seen. Finally, a doctor came out and said "She's going to be fine," and though I saw his mouth continue moving and heard something, it didn't register because I was overcome by a wave of relief and thanks.
They told me Holly was sedated and being transferred to the STICU (Surgical Trauma ICU) at MCV. The doctor said they had done a CAT scan of her abdominal/pelvic area and the base of her spine, all of which came back negative---all clear. No major concussion either. A minor contusion, but nothing they're worried about. Other than some bruises and minor lacerations, her entire body is fine. Her face, however, didn't fare so well. She has suffered several significant facial fractures. Her upper jaw is floating, the orb of her right eye is broken, and there are a few other fractures. It amazed me that her face looked relatively okay for all the damage beneath.
My stepfather (who lives in Richmond) drove me back out to Blue Sky, where I was immediately approached by a very worried Steve and Tex, as well as others. I discussed the accident with Steve, and received several much-appreciated hugs from Holly's "extended family" of pilots. My glider had been broken down and packed up (thank you!), and I gathered all of Holly's important belongings together (as well as my own) and drove her truck back to MCV to see her. (By the way, MCV has one of the finest trauma centers on the east coast---Holly is in the best hands possible!)
I wanted so badly for her to know I was there for her...but Holly was fully sedated and sleeping when I arrived. The ICU nurse caring for Holly was wonderful and briefed me on everything. That was around 7pm tonight. After a short visit, I drove back to my parents house (luckily only 10 minutes from the hospital), cried a lot, showered and cleaned up, then went back to the hospital to visit Holly once before before visiting hours ended at 9pm. She was still sleeping, sedated, and doing fine.
It will be a long, difficult recovery for Holly, but she is strong---a Marine Captain---and will make it through. I will be by her side every step of the way.
I want to thank all of the wonderful people and pilots at Blue Sky for the incredible job you all did under extreme stress at the scene of the accident. Hank Hengst had incredible clarity of mind and was extremely effective in taking control. Tim Eggers, Josh Criss, Megan Chapman, Mike Wimmer, Steve Wendt, Tex Forrest, and everyone else were calm, efficient, and did exactly what needed to be done for Holly. From the bottom of my heart and on Holly's behalf, thank you. There couldn't have been a better group of people on the scene.
I'll post info soon on how to contact Holly. She likely won't be in a clear state of mind for a few days, but she'll need all the support we can give her. Surgery for her facial injuries is tentatively scheduled for the end of this week (Fri/Sat). I'll be staying down here in Richmond with my parents for the time being, spending as much time as possible with Holly.
No thoughts on the future yet. Just taking it one day at a time, one step at a time. I've cried much. Heading to sleep now.
Thanks,
Scott
As Ralph mentioned, I didn't see Holly's accident, but Steve Wendt saw it all (as did several others). For now, all I'm comfortable saying is that Holly opted to aerotow on her Moyes Litesport. From what Steve told me, she experienced oscillations shortly after takeoff which quickly became severe. At an altitude somewhere between 50 and 100 feet (We don't know for sure) there was a lockout situation with the glider at a near 90-degree angle. When a line broke (I don't know which one), Holly's glider recoiled backwards, almost fully inverted, then partially recovered in a dive toward the ground.
Steve saw Holly pulling in for speed. He speculated had she been 10-20' higher, she might have made it...and 10-20' lower, she could have died. Whatever the case, she hit the ground hard at something less than a vertical angle. Her Charley Insider full-face helmet was broken through in two places (the chin and next to her eye), and Steve believes the breaks absorbed some of the impact and probably saved her life.
I was sitting in my truck when Tim Eggers ran up and said "Call 911 Scott, Holly's had a bad accident." My mind raced, almost not believing Tim, but without realizing it I was up and sprinting across the field, unable to call 911, throwing my phone at someone at the crash site.
Holly lay on the ground tangled up in her glider. She looked bad, but was moving both arms and both legs, which we took as a hopeful sign. Hank Hengst took command of the situation, taking one of Holly's hands while I held the other and spoke reassuringly to her. Hank immediately cut away the sail partially blocking her while we supported her head and tried our best to keep her immobile. Holly appeared incoherent, her breathing labored, and I don't know if she really knew who we were.
I asked someone if we could get some shade over Holly, and several pilots grabbed her chute and spread it in a canopy over all of us, keeping the hot sun off Holly's face.
I silently cursed every minute that passed without the ambulance arriving, my mind still racing, praying that Holly would be alright. After what seemed an eternity (but was probably 15-20 minutes) the ambulance arrived, and after cutting Holly from her harness the paramedics had her on a backboard, then the gurney. I hopped into the ambulance, tears welling in my eyes, and we sped off to MCV Hospital in downtown Richmond, about 25 minutes away.
Holly arrived at the ER at 1:15pm. It was 3pm before I knew anything. That 90 minutes was hell, and I clung to every positive sign I'd seen. Finally, a doctor came out and said "She's going to be fine," and though I saw his mouth continue moving and heard something, it didn't register because I was overcome by a wave of relief and thanks.
They told me Holly was sedated and being transferred to the STICU (Surgical Trauma ICU) at MCV. The doctor said they had done a CAT scan of her abdominal/pelvic area and the base of her spine, all of which came back negative---all clear. No major concussion either. A minor contusion, but nothing they're worried about. Other than some bruises and minor lacerations, her entire body is fine. Her face, however, didn't fare so well. She has suffered several significant facial fractures. Her upper jaw is floating, the orb of her right eye is broken, and there are a few other fractures. It amazed me that her face looked relatively okay for all the damage beneath.
My stepfather (who lives in Richmond) drove me back out to Blue Sky, where I was immediately approached by a very worried Steve and Tex, as well as others. I discussed the accident with Steve, and received several much-appreciated hugs from Holly's "extended family" of pilots. My glider had been broken down and packed up (thank you!), and I gathered all of Holly's important belongings together (as well as my own) and drove her truck back to MCV to see her. (By the way, MCV has one of the finest trauma centers on the east coast---Holly is in the best hands possible!)
I wanted so badly for her to know I was there for her...but Holly was fully sedated and sleeping when I arrived. The ICU nurse caring for Holly was wonderful and briefed me on everything. That was around 7pm tonight. After a short visit, I drove back to my parents house (luckily only 10 minutes from the hospital), cried a lot, showered and cleaned up, then went back to the hospital to visit Holly once before before visiting hours ended at 9pm. She was still sleeping, sedated, and doing fine.
It will be a long, difficult recovery for Holly, but she is strong---a Marine Captain---and will make it through. I will be by her side every step of the way.
I want to thank all of the wonderful people and pilots at Blue Sky for the incredible job you all did under extreme stress at the scene of the accident. Hank Hengst had incredible clarity of mind and was extremely effective in taking control. Tim Eggers, Josh Criss, Megan Chapman, Mike Wimmer, Steve Wendt, Tex Forrest, and everyone else were calm, efficient, and did exactly what needed to be done for Holly. From the bottom of my heart and on Holly's behalf, thank you. There couldn't have been a better group of people on the scene.
I'll post info soon on how to contact Holly. She likely won't be in a clear state of mind for a few days, but she'll need all the support we can give her. Surgery for her facial injuries is tentatively scheduled for the end of this week (Fri/Sat). I'll be staying down here in Richmond with my parents for the time being, spending as much time as possible with Holly.
No thoughts on the future yet. Just taking it one day at a time, one step at a time. I've cried much. Heading to sleep now.
Thanks,
Scott
I was very sorry to hear about Holly's accident; I (and everyone!)
will be keeping you both in our thoughts, and hoping that Holly's
recovery is as quick as possible. When things are a little less crazy,
please send info on how we can send cards and such, and ditto
a phone number (when Holly's ready for calls). I'm really glad that
she's doing ok.... Hang in there!
--mark
will be keeping you both in our thoughts, and hoping that Holly's
recovery is as quick as possible. When things are a little less crazy,
please send info on how we can send cards and such, and ditto
a phone number (when Holly's ready for calls). I'm really glad that
she's doing ok.... Hang in there!
--mark
It would really be wonderful and provide Holly much-needed support if I could get cards and/or your written well-wishes to her as soon as she's able to hear them.
Please send anything you like to Holly, in my care, at my parents' address...
Holly Korzilius
c/o The Wileys
5112 Caledonia Road
Richmond, VA 23225
Or, if you like, feel free to email me your well wishes to Holly. Even if she isn't able to read them herself, I promise to read to her anything she receives. It'll make a positive difference (and give us something to do) during the long hours ahead.
Thank you,
Scott
PS - I'll still post the hospital address info later today when I have it, but somehow I feel mail to my parents' house would be faster and more reliable than the hospital. (Maybe I should trust hospital mail more?)
Please send anything you like to Holly, in my care, at my parents' address...
Holly Korzilius
c/o The Wileys
5112 Caledonia Road
Richmond, VA 23225
Or, if you like, feel free to email me your well wishes to Holly. Even if she isn't able to read them herself, I promise to read to her anything she receives. It'll make a positive difference (and give us something to do) during the long hours ahead.
Thank you,
Scott
PS - I'll still post the hospital address info later today when I have it, but somehow I feel mail to my parents' house would be faster and more reliable than the hospital. (Maybe I should trust hospital mail more?)
Sorry, keep forgetting details...if you'd like to email anything for Holly, feel free to send it to my address: sw@shadepine.com Or simply post your thoughts here and I'll be sure she sees them or hears them.
Thanks,
Scott
Thanks,
Scott
Holly's Accident
Hmmm - wonder if she's ready for humor, like "way to go on the
face-plant!"? Guess not, huh? I think I'll just stick to "extremely
sorry to hear about your accident and hope your recovery is speedy".
Glad it wasn't worse. Also, look forward to your analysis of what
happened (assuming you remember). With sincere best wishes - Hugh
P.S. How much longer do you have in the Corps?
On 30 May 2005, at 05:25, Scott wrote:
> Sorry, keep forgetting details...if you'd like to email anything for
> Holly, feel free to send it to my address: sw@shadepine.com Or simply
> post your thoughts here and I'll be sure she sees them or hears them.
>
> Thanks,
> Scott
>
>
>
>
face-plant!"? Guess not, huh? I think I'll just stick to "extremely
sorry to hear about your accident and hope your recovery is speedy".
Glad it wasn't worse. Also, look forward to your analysis of what
happened (assuming you remember). With sincere best wishes - Hugh
P.S. How much longer do you have in the Corps?
On 30 May 2005, at 05:25, Scott wrote:
> Sorry, keep forgetting details...if you'd like to email anything for
> Holly, feel free to send it to my address: sw@shadepine.com Or simply
> post your thoughts here and I'll be sure she sees them or hears them.
>
> Thanks,
> Scott
>
>
>
>
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Flying Lobster
- Posts: 1042
- Joined: Fri Feb 25, 2005 4:17 pm
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drice21037
- Posts: 69
- Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 11:00 pm
- Location: Annapolis, MD
Holly's Accident
Hang in there Holly!? I'm glad to hear you're going to be fine.?
?
Dave
?
P.S.? (Whispering...) I think Scott really likes you.
?
Dave
?
P.S.? (Whispering...) I think Scott really likes you.
Holly's Accident
Scott,
????? Wishing Holly a speedy recovery from the unfortunate accident.? Wishing you both the best.
???????????????????????????????????????????????? Sincerely,
???????????????????????????????????????????????? Bacil
????? Wishing Holly a speedy recovery from the unfortunate accident.? Wishing you both the best.
???????????????????????????????????????????????? Sincerely,
???????????????????????????????????????????????? Bacil
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Paul Tjaden
- Posts: 398
- Joined: Tue Feb 08, 2005 10:28 pm
Holly's Accident
In a message dated 5/30/2005 5:25:54 A.M. Eastern Standard Time, sw@shadepine.com writes:
We love you, Holly. We'll be thinking of you, like lots and lots, and are sending physic hugs and kisses your way.
Now concentrate on healing fast. You are young and healthy and I know your quick recovery will astound everyone.
Love,
Lauren and Paul
Or simply post your thoughts here and I'll be sure she sees them or hears them.
We love you, Holly. We'll be thinking of you, like lots and lots, and are sending physic hugs and kisses your way.
Now concentrate on healing fast. You are young and healthy and I know your quick recovery will astound everyone.
Love,
Lauren and Paul
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hepcat1989
- Posts: 684
- Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 11:15 pm
Holly
Best wishes to Holly and I hope she has a speedy recovery. She's strong and I'm sure she will heal quickly. There is, however, a long period of time after the initial healing when a person cannot do the things they normally do. This is a very frustrating time. I have experience in this matter. So if you need any suggestions of fun low-impact and interesting things to do so, drop me a line. Maybe we can all go sailing or visit some local gardens or check out wine festivals.
Matthew
Matthew
Scott,
Unfortunately I haven't met either you or Holly but I would like to offer Holly a speedy recovery and the thankfullness that she suvived a nasty situation. I also hate to hear of accidents (and post them like I did with my own back in April) but it is comforting when we hear they were survivable. Full face helmets come through again! Plus the fact that Holly is obviously a strong person to have suffered such a violent encounter with the ground and survived. Please wish her my best, I will keep her in my prayers and thoughts.
Paul
Unfortunately I haven't met either you or Holly but I would like to offer Holly a speedy recovery and the thankfullness that she suvived a nasty situation. I also hate to hear of accidents (and post them like I did with my own back in April) but it is comforting when we hear they were survivable. Full face helmets come through again! Plus the fact that Holly is obviously a strong person to have suffered such a violent encounter with the ground and survived. Please wish her my best, I will keep her in my prayers and thoughts.
Paul
Paul Adamez
Hi all...this will be a quick update as it's late, and I'm sending this from the ICU on my Palm...
Holly continues to recover, but slowly. I've been here all day, and she's been sleeping, or in some limbo state approaching sleep, all day. Though she is unable to speak, she responds to questions by small nods and squeezing our hands. This is encouraging!
Joe Schad dropped by for a brief visit, which was much welcomed. Thank you, Joe.
I've been waiting for a milestone of sorts, which is the removal of Holly's breathing tube. This will happen in the next hour, and both Holly & I will be much more comfortable without it. She is already breathing on her own.
She is scheduled for a 10-hour operation this Friday to reconstruct her face...so she's not out of the woods yet. The nurses and doctors all think she's doing really well, though. Her condition is very stable and her vital signs strong.
Our only remaining question, and one that only time will answer, is whether or not Holly will experience any degree of brain damage. The impact caused a small spot of bleeding in her brain, but the consensus seems to be that it isn't a source of great concern. Still, one doctor reminded me that doctors typically paint a bleak picture so it's all uphill from there.
I've read Holly your well wishes. I don't know if she heard them, but I'd like to think so. Thank you for all your support. It helps a lot! I'll be here all day tomorrow and will send another update then.
Scott
Holly continues to recover, but slowly. I've been here all day, and she's been sleeping, or in some limbo state approaching sleep, all day. Though she is unable to speak, she responds to questions by small nods and squeezing our hands. This is encouraging!
Joe Schad dropped by for a brief visit, which was much welcomed. Thank you, Joe.
I've been waiting for a milestone of sorts, which is the removal of Holly's breathing tube. This will happen in the next hour, and both Holly & I will be much more comfortable without it. She is already breathing on her own.
She is scheduled for a 10-hour operation this Friday to reconstruct her face...so she's not out of the woods yet. The nurses and doctors all think she's doing really well, though. Her condition is very stable and her vital signs strong.
Our only remaining question, and one that only time will answer, is whether or not Holly will experience any degree of brain damage. The impact caused a small spot of bleeding in her brain, but the consensus seems to be that it isn't a source of great concern. Still, one doctor reminded me that doctors typically paint a bleak picture so it's all uphill from there.
I've read Holly your well wishes. I don't know if she heard them, but I'd like to think so. Thank you for all your support. It helps a lot! I'll be here all day tomorrow and will send another update then.
Scott
Another update...last night around 10pm, Holly's breathing tube was removed. When I came back into the room, I was blown away by the transformation! Holly was sitting upright in bed (the bed back had been tilted up), her eyes were open, and the tubes and tape were gone from her face. She recognized me immediately.
Even more amazing...there was a suction tube in her lap for clearing her throat of fluids...and she picked it up and began suctioning her own throat at intervals! This was in stark contrast to the nearly unconcscious, barely-responsive Holly I'd been with all day. A huge wave of relief washed over me as I really felt for the first time that not only could I communicate with her, but that she would really come through this.
Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently mouthed the words, "What happened?"
I was torn for a moment, because I wanted to tell her everything. But it was late, I was tired, and I was in the ICU way past visiting hours. I felt that telling her nothing (at the moment) was better than telling her "You had an accident" and then having to leave. So I said "That's not important right now sweetie. What's important is that you're going to be okay, and that I love you very much and will be right here with you. We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. Now we both need more rest." That seemed to satisfy her. (I did tell her where she was.)
This morning, if she's relatively alert, I'll begin by asking her what she remembers (if anything), and then fill her in gradually over time. (Not too many details for now!) If I know Holly, though, she'll want to know everything she can.
I'll also have the somewhat difficult task of explaining her facial injuries and approaching surgery. I plan to stay positive though, and tell her the truth---she's incredibly lucky, and her skill as a pilot in those last couple of seconds probably saved her life.
I'm still overwhelmed by the enormity of her surgery and recovery...but last night was the first milestone, and a positive one that let me sleep better. Holly's parents are coming down from Michigan tomorrow, so that will be another boost for her.
Thank you, everyone, for your continued support and love. I plan to read your messages to Holly today if she's up to it. I hear they had a banner day of epic soaring at Blue Sky yesterday...and that makes me happy. Holly would have wanted everyone to fly again---and fly high!
Scott
Even more amazing...there was a suction tube in her lap for clearing her throat of fluids...and she picked it up and began suctioning her own throat at intervals! This was in stark contrast to the nearly unconcscious, barely-responsive Holly I'd been with all day. A huge wave of relief washed over me as I really felt for the first time that not only could I communicate with her, but that she would really come through this.
Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently mouthed the words, "What happened?"
I was torn for a moment, because I wanted to tell her everything. But it was late, I was tired, and I was in the ICU way past visiting hours. I felt that telling her nothing (at the moment) was better than telling her "You had an accident" and then having to leave. So I said "That's not important right now sweetie. What's important is that you're going to be okay, and that I love you very much and will be right here with you. We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. Now we both need more rest." That seemed to satisfy her. (I did tell her where she was.)
This morning, if she's relatively alert, I'll begin by asking her what she remembers (if anything), and then fill her in gradually over time. (Not too many details for now!) If I know Holly, though, she'll want to know everything she can.
I'll also have the somewhat difficult task of explaining her facial injuries and approaching surgery. I plan to stay positive though, and tell her the truth---she's incredibly lucky, and her skill as a pilot in those last couple of seconds probably saved her life.
I'm still overwhelmed by the enormity of her surgery and recovery...but last night was the first milestone, and a positive one that let me sleep better. Holly's parents are coming down from Michigan tomorrow, so that will be another boost for her.
Thank you, everyone, for your continued support and love. I plan to read your messages to Holly today if she's up to it. I hear they had a banner day of epic soaring at Blue Sky yesterday...and that makes me happy. Holly would have wanted everyone to fly again---and fly high!
Scott
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drice21037
- Posts: 69
- Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 11:00 pm
- Location: Annapolis, MD
Holly's Accident
That's Great News!? I bet Holly's tougher than most all the rest of us.
-----Original Message-----
From: Scott [mailto:sw@shadepine.com]
Sent: Tuesday, May 31, 2005 6:30 AM
To: hg_forum@chgpa.org
Subject: Holly's Accident
Thank you, everyone, for your continued support and love. I plan to read your messages to Holly today if she's up to it. I hear they had a banner day of epic soaring at Blue Sky yesterday...and that makes me happy. Holly would have wanted everyone to fly again---and fly high!
Scott
Holly's Accident
This is great news Scott.? We are all pulling for her complete recovery.
?
Joe
?
-----Original Message-----
From: Scott [mailto:sw@shadepine.com]
Sent: Tuesday, May 31, 2005 5:30 AM
To: hg_forum@chgpa.org
Subject: Holly's Accident
?
Another update...last night around 10pm, Holly's breathing tube was removed. When I came back into the room, I was blown away by the transformation! Holly was sitting upright in bed (the bed back had been tilted up), her eyes were open, and the tubes and tape were gone from her face. She recognized me immediately.
Even more amazing...there was a suction tube in her lap for clearing her throat of fluids...and she picked it up and began suctioning her own throat at intervals! This was in stark contrast to the nearly unconcscious, barely-responsive Holly I'd been with all day. A huge wave of relief washed over me as I really felt for the first time that not only could I communicate with her, but that she would really come through this.
Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently mouthed the words, "What happened?"
I was torn for a moment, because I wanted to tell her everything. But it was late, I was tired, and I was in the ICU way past visiting hours. I felt that telling her nothing (at the moment) was better than telling her "You had an accident" and then having to leave. So I said "That's not important right now sweetie. What's important is that you're going to be okay, and that I love you very much and will be right here with you. We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. Now we both need more rest." That seemed to satisfy her. (I did tell her where she was.)
This morning, if she's relatively alert, I'll begin by asking her what she remembers (if anything), and then fill her in gradually over time. (Not too many details for now!) If I know Holly, though, she'll want to know everything she can.
I'll also have the somewhat difficult task of explaining her facial injuries and approaching surgery. I plan to stay positive though, and tell her the truth---she's incredibly lucky, and her skill as a pilot in those last couple of seconds probably saved her life.
I'm still overwhelmed by the enormity of her surgery and recovery...but last night was the first milestone, and a positive one that let me sleep better. Holly's parents are coming down from Michigan tomorrow, so that will be another boost for her.
Thank you, everyone, for your continued support and love. I plan to read your messages to Holly today if she's up to it. I hear they had a banner day of epic soaring at Blue Sky yesterday...and that makes me happy. Holly would have wanted everyone to fly again---and fly high!
Scott
?
Joe
?
-----Original Message-----
From: Scott [mailto:sw@shadepine.com]
Sent: Tuesday, May 31, 2005 5:30 AM
To: hg_forum@chgpa.org
Subject: Holly's Accident
?
Another update...last night around 10pm, Holly's breathing tube was removed. When I came back into the room, I was blown away by the transformation! Holly was sitting upright in bed (the bed back had been tilted up), her eyes were open, and the tubes and tape were gone from her face. She recognized me immediately.
Even more amazing...there was a suction tube in her lap for clearing her throat of fluids...and she picked it up and began suctioning her own throat at intervals! This was in stark contrast to the nearly unconcscious, barely-responsive Holly I'd been with all day. A huge wave of relief washed over me as I really felt for the first time that not only could I communicate with her, but that she would really come through this.
Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently mouthed the words, "What happened?"
I was torn for a moment, because I wanted to tell her everything. But it was late, I was tired, and I was in the ICU way past visiting hours. I felt that telling her nothing (at the moment) was better than telling her "You had an accident" and then having to leave. So I said "That's not important right now sweetie. What's important is that you're going to be okay, and that I love you very much and will be right here with you. We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. Now we both need more rest." That seemed to satisfy her. (I did tell her where she was.)
This morning, if she's relatively alert, I'll begin by asking her what she remembers (if anything), and then fill her in gradually over time. (Not too many details for now!) If I know Holly, though, she'll want to know everything she can.
I'll also have the somewhat difficult task of explaining her facial injuries and approaching surgery. I plan to stay positive though, and tell her the truth---she's incredibly lucky, and her skill as a pilot in those last couple of seconds probably saved her life.
I'm still overwhelmed by the enormity of her surgery and recovery...but last night was the first milestone, and a positive one that let me sleep better. Holly's parents are coming down from Michigan tomorrow, so that will be another boost for her.
Thank you, everyone, for your continued support and love. I plan to read your messages to Holly today if she's up to it. I hear they had a banner day of epic soaring at Blue Sky yesterday...and that makes me happy. Holly would have wanted everyone to fly again---and fly high!
Scott
Holly's recovery
Holly;
I am so pleased to hear the excellent news that you are making huge strides in your recovery! You are in my thoughts daily, and I am sending my best wishes and love with every thought. See you soon -Linda B.
I am so pleased to hear the excellent news that you are making huge strides in your recovery! You are in my thoughts daily, and I am sending my best wishes and love with every thought. See you soon -Linda B.
Holly's recovery
Holly,
May your warrior soul
pull ahead of the
challenges you face
Your kind strength will
illuminate the path
It is not what happens
but the response
what defines a person
from you I only see
an amazing response
Whatever battles you chose
to fight you will prove
successful because you have
a warrior soul
You and Scott will find in each other the
inspiration to write the next page. I hope
you know a whole community wants you to
heal as quickly as possible. I look forward
for the moment I will be able to give you hug.
Carlos
May your warrior soul
pull ahead of the
challenges you face
Your kind strength will
illuminate the path
It is not what happens
but the response
what defines a person
from you I only see
an amazing response
Whatever battles you chose
to fight you will prove
successful because you have
a warrior soul
You and Scott will find in each other the
inspiration to write the next page. I hope
you know a whole community wants you to
heal as quickly as possible. I look forward
for the moment I will be able to give you hug.
Carlos
Memory Loss and Recovery Post Trauma
Scott, et al.,
Based on my experience after pounding in at High Rock a number of years ago, and conversations with others who had simlar experiences in auto or motorcycle accidents, I can give you some information and encouragement on the subject of this memory loss.
In my case, I was landing at HR reverse the normal direction (due to wind direction) over high grass, and was on final still proned out, low over the grass. When the tall grass grabbed my control bar, glider and I were slammed down hard and fast. I am guessing that I hit the ground in something close to prone, since my full face helmet sustained notable damage but I had no neck problems.
I was not totally knocked unconcious, but did suffer a brief black-out. Dan Tomlinson was in the LZ and saw my crash. He ran at his fastest to me. By the time he arrived I was already standing under the glider, unhooked, still in my harness. However, I turned to Dan and asked, "Did I fly?" He used that as a clue and put full emergency services into play. (After walking around and getting out of my harness myself, I was back-boarded by EMS and taken to Hagerstown, where all my x-rays were negative.)
Immediately after my accident, I could not remember any part of my flight, not even standing on launch. Over the next several months, I regained memory of my launch and flight, including being on final over the grass. The memory did not return all at once, but was like a widening window starting with the launch, building out over a couple of months. Now I remember everything up to being proned out over the grass, as well as unhooking and asking Dan if I had flown. However, to this day I do not recall the change in flight direction from horiszontal to veritical and my impact with the ground.
This same capsule amnesia of the point of injury has occurred to others I have spoken to. Their memory recovery seems simillar to mine. I am convinced that humans have a natural protection mechnism in our brains that protects us from memory of extreme trauma.
The upshot of my story is to encourage you, and Holly, that her current memory loss is both a good, protective thing, and further, is not permanent, with the possible exception of the impact. I can't guaranty that Holly will recover memory of her flight, or if she does, how quickly or how much. But I can assure you that her current situation is normal and probably good for her.
Cragin
p.s. In my accident, the full face helmet absorbed amost all the force, with the face guard bending back breaking the paint on both sides. I however, had NO facial injuries, and my glasses were not even bent. I am convinced that helmet saved me from significant facial damage. Holly's experience is clearly a more dramatic demonstration than mine of the value of full face helmets. I have preached this topic ever since my own accident. I will continue even more:
Will all of you owners of top cover brain buckets PLEEEEAASSE change to full face???
[quote="Scott"]Another update...last night around 10pm, Holly's breathing tube was removed. When I came back into the room, I was [b]blown away[/b] by the transformation!
>>SNIP<<
Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently mouthed the words, "What happened?"
>>SNIP<<
Scott[/quote]
Based on my experience after pounding in at High Rock a number of years ago, and conversations with others who had simlar experiences in auto or motorcycle accidents, I can give you some information and encouragement on the subject of this memory loss.
In my case, I was landing at HR reverse the normal direction (due to wind direction) over high grass, and was on final still proned out, low over the grass. When the tall grass grabbed my control bar, glider and I were slammed down hard and fast. I am guessing that I hit the ground in something close to prone, since my full face helmet sustained notable damage but I had no neck problems.
I was not totally knocked unconcious, but did suffer a brief black-out. Dan Tomlinson was in the LZ and saw my crash. He ran at his fastest to me. By the time he arrived I was already standing under the glider, unhooked, still in my harness. However, I turned to Dan and asked, "Did I fly?" He used that as a clue and put full emergency services into play. (After walking around and getting out of my harness myself, I was back-boarded by EMS and taken to Hagerstown, where all my x-rays were negative.)
Immediately after my accident, I could not remember any part of my flight, not even standing on launch. Over the next several months, I regained memory of my launch and flight, including being on final over the grass. The memory did not return all at once, but was like a widening window starting with the launch, building out over a couple of months. Now I remember everything up to being proned out over the grass, as well as unhooking and asking Dan if I had flown. However, to this day I do not recall the change in flight direction from horiszontal to veritical and my impact with the ground.
This same capsule amnesia of the point of injury has occurred to others I have spoken to. Their memory recovery seems simillar to mine. I am convinced that humans have a natural protection mechnism in our brains that protects us from memory of extreme trauma.
The upshot of my story is to encourage you, and Holly, that her current memory loss is both a good, protective thing, and further, is not permanent, with the possible exception of the impact. I can't guaranty that Holly will recover memory of her flight, or if she does, how quickly or how much. But I can assure you that her current situation is normal and probably good for her.
Cragin
p.s. In my accident, the full face helmet absorbed amost all the force, with the face guard bending back breaking the paint on both sides. I however, had NO facial injuries, and my glasses were not even bent. I am convinced that helmet saved me from significant facial damage. Holly's experience is clearly a more dramatic demonstration than mine of the value of full face helmets. I have preached this topic ever since my own accident. I will continue even more:
Will all of you owners of top cover brain buckets PLEEEEAASSE change to full face???
[quote="Scott"]Another update...last night around 10pm, Holly's breathing tube was removed. When I came back into the room, I was [b]blown away[/b] by the transformation!
>>SNIP<<
Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently mouthed the words, "What happened?"
>>SNIP<<
Scott[/quote]
-
pink_albatross
- Posts: 599
- Joined: Fri Jan 07, 2005 12:20 pm
- Location: Ellis from Arlington
I am so sorry to hear of Holly's accident.
It is, however, wonderful to also read that she is recovering so quickly and that the prognosis looks good.
I wish her best of luck with the upcoming surgeries and hope that her recovery will continue to be quick and strong. I am glad to know she has Scott at her side for emotional support (and logistical).
You two hang in there. You have a lot of people thinking about you and wishing you well
-- ellis
It is, however, wonderful to also read that she is recovering so quickly and that the prognosis looks good.
I wish her best of luck with the upcoming surgeries and hope that her recovery will continue to be quick and strong. I am glad to know she has Scott at her side for emotional support (and logistical).
You two hang in there. You have a lot of people thinking about you and wishing you well
-- ellis
Why people don't remember accidents
A friend at work to whom I was relating the events of the weekend noted
that the brain requires time to establish a memory. Things happen so
fast in an accident that there's not enough time for the memory to get
established. Sounds plausible... - Hugh
On 31 May 2005, at 10:27, CraginS wrote:
> Scott, et al.,
> Based on my experience after pounding in at High Rock a number of
> years ago, and conversations with others who had simlar experiences in
> auto or motorcycle accidents, I can give you some information and
> encouragement on the subject of this memory loss.
> In my case, I was landing at HR reverse the normal direction (due to
> wind direction) over high grass, and was on final still proned out,
> low over the grass. When the tall grass grabbed my control bar, glider
> and I were slammed down hard and fast. I am guessing that I hit the
> ground in something close to prone, since my full face helmet
> sustained notable damage but I had no neck problems.
> I was not totally knocked unconcious, but did suffer a brief
> black-out. Dan Tomlinson was in the LZ and saw my crash. He ran at his
> fastest to me. By the time he arrived I was already standing under the
> glider, unhooked, still in my harness. However, I turned to Dan and
> asked, "Did I fly?" He used that as a clue and put full emergency
> services into play. (After walking around and getting out of my
> harness myself, I was back-boarded by EMS and taken to Hagerstown,
> where all my x-rays were negative.)
> Immediately after my accident, I could not remember any part of my
> flight, not even standing on launch. Over the next several months, I
> regained memory of my launch and flight, including being on final over
> the grass. The memory did not return all at once, but was like a
> widening window starting with the launch, building out over a couple
> of months. Now I remember everything up to being proned out over the
> grass, as well as unhooking and asking Dan if I had flown. However, to
> this day I do not recall the change in flight direction from
> horiszontal to veritical and my impact with the ground.
> This same capsule amnesia of the point of injury has occurred to
> others I have spoken to. Their memory recovery seems simillar to mine.
> I am convinced that humans have a natural protection mechnism in our
> brains that protects us from memory of extreme trauma.
> The upshot of my story is to encourage you, and Holly, that her
> current memory loss is both a good, protective thing, and further, is
> not permanent, with the possible exception of the impact. I can't
> guaranty that Holly will recover memory of her flight, or if she does,
> how quickly or how much. But I can assure you that her current
> situation is normal and probably good for her.
>
> Cragin
>
> p.s. In my accident, the full face helmet absorbed amost all the
> force, with the face guard bending back breaking the paint on both
> sides. I however, had NO facial injuries, and my glasses were not even
> bent. I am convinced that helmet saved me from significant facial
> damage. Holly's experience is clearly a more dramatic demonstration
> than mine of the value of full face helmets. I have preached this
> topic ever since my own accident. I will continue even more:
>
> Will all of you owners of top cover brain buckets PLEEEEAASSE change
> to full face???
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
that the brain requires time to establish a memory. Things happen so
fast in an accident that there's not enough time for the memory to get
established. Sounds plausible... - Hugh
On 31 May 2005, at 10:27, CraginS wrote:
> Scott, et al.,
> Based on my experience after pounding in at High Rock a number of
> years ago, and conversations with others who had simlar experiences in
> auto or motorcycle accidents, I can give you some information and
> encouragement on the subject of this memory loss.
> In my case, I was landing at HR reverse the normal direction (due to
> wind direction) over high grass, and was on final still proned out,
> low over the grass. When the tall grass grabbed my control bar, glider
> and I were slammed down hard and fast. I am guessing that I hit the
> ground in something close to prone, since my full face helmet
> sustained notable damage but I had no neck problems.
> I was not totally knocked unconcious, but did suffer a brief
> black-out. Dan Tomlinson was in the LZ and saw my crash. He ran at his
> fastest to me. By the time he arrived I was already standing under the
> glider, unhooked, still in my harness. However, I turned to Dan and
> asked, "Did I fly?" He used that as a clue and put full emergency
> services into play. (After walking around and getting out of my
> harness myself, I was back-boarded by EMS and taken to Hagerstown,
> where all my x-rays were negative.)
> Immediately after my accident, I could not remember any part of my
> flight, not even standing on launch. Over the next several months, I
> regained memory of my launch and flight, including being on final over
> the grass. The memory did not return all at once, but was like a
> widening window starting with the launch, building out over a couple
> of months. Now I remember everything up to being proned out over the
> grass, as well as unhooking and asking Dan if I had flown. However, to
> this day I do not recall the change in flight direction from
> horiszontal to veritical and my impact with the ground.
> This same capsule amnesia of the point of injury has occurred to
> others I have spoken to. Their memory recovery seems simillar to mine.
> I am convinced that humans have a natural protection mechnism in our
> brains that protects us from memory of extreme trauma.
> The upshot of my story is to encourage you, and Holly, that her
> current memory loss is both a good, protective thing, and further, is
> not permanent, with the possible exception of the impact. I can't
> guaranty that Holly will recover memory of her flight, or if she does,
> how quickly or how much. But I can assure you that her current
> situation is normal and probably good for her.
>
> Cragin
>
> p.s. In my accident, the full face helmet absorbed amost all the
> force, with the face guard bending back breaking the paint on both
> sides. I however, had NO facial injuries, and my glasses were not even
> bent. I am convinced that helmet saved me from significant facial
> damage. Holly's experience is clearly a more dramatic demonstration
> than mine of the value of full face helmets. I have preached this
> topic ever since my own accident. I will continue even more:
>
> Will all of you owners of top cover brain buckets PLEEEEAASSE change
> to full face???
>
>
>
>
>
>Scott wrote:Another update...last night around 10pm, Holly's
> breathing tube was removed. When I came back into the room, I was
> blown away by the transformation!
>
> >>SNIP<<
>
> Then came a sobering (but not surprising) moment, when Holly silently
> mouthed the words, "What happened?"
>
> >>SNIP<<
>
> Scott
>
>
>
Wednesday, June 1st - 6:45am
Hi Everyone...
Holly continues to improve, but after yesterday, it's important that I paint a more sobering picture. Her improvement---though definite---is relative to the severe trauma she endured. She suffered a small amount of bleeding in her brain. Though not life-threatening, it causes her to fatigue far faster and more easily than were the bleeding not present. As a result, she slept more-or-less continuously throughout the day.
She can't chew anything as her upper jaw is loose, and even swallowing is difficult. She's being kept alive purely by fluids delivered intravenously. This probably won't change until after her surgery.
Dialog with Holly is extremely limited (as she's rarely awake), and consist only of direct questions to which Holly can nod "yes" or "no." She did form a few words yesterday, but her voice was deep, scratchy, and hoarse. One of the things she whispered to me---for the second time---was: "What happened to me?" Though I had already told her she was in an accident, I elaborated slightly: "You were flying a hang glider on tow and lost control. I don't know why you lost control, but you did. You impacted the ground hard, and were very lucky to survive. Your body is in excellent shape---no worries there. But your face is pretty banged-up. You have some broken facial bones, and your upper jaw is loose. That's what they will fix in the surgery you need to have." I didn't go any further than that...and she seemed a bit surprised by it, but didn't ask any more.
During a more wakeful moment early yesterday, I asked her a few gentle questions to get a better handle on her memory loss. First, I asked if she remembers even being at Blue Sky at all---no. I asked if she remembers Steve Wendt (her hang gliding instructor)---no. I then asked if she knows who Kate is (my daughter) and she nodded yes. I asked if she knows her two cats---another yes. So with the puzzling exception of Steve Wendt, whom she's known for years, her memory loss certainly extends backwards through the days prior to the accident. (Don't worry Steve---I'm sure she hasn't forgotten you forever!) I know this is normal, and appreciate the comments and stories you have shared with me regarding this. (It's still a little scary though!)
One of the ICU nurses gave me a copy of Holly's latest CT scan analysis. She said "I shouldn't be doing this, but here." (Probably referring to HIPA, etc.) Nothing new there, mainly indication of the facial fractures we already knew about. I clung to the two positive statements: "In comparison to the previous study there has been a significant decrease in the amount of extracoronal and subcutaneous emphysema." (Which I believe means her facial swelling has subsided significantly.) And also..."Evaluation of the intracranial contents demonstrates no acute process." (Which I hope means nothing bad going on in her brain!)
As I'm sure is often the case in situations like this, yesterday was a bit of an emotional roller-coaster for me. Just when I was comfortable all was stable and improving with Holly and she was scheduled for surgery soon, the Marine Corps stepped in. It appears they want to transfer her to Bethesda Naval Medical Center. I don't doubt the quality of care she'd receive at Bethesda...but MCV is equal to Bethesda, and I worry that a transfer (given how bureaucracies function) would create more delays before Holly's surgery.
The reconstructive surgery is a BIG milestone fast approaching. And I wish it would happen sooner, rather than later. I can't stand the idea of Holly existing in this hellish limbo with a smashed face any longer than absolutely necessary. Currently, the surgery at MCV could happen as soon as this Thursday or Friday. But if the transfer to Bethesda happens, it might well be delayed 'til next week.
So I'll be anxiously awaiting whatever decisions are reached today. On a happier note, Holly was transferred out of the ICU late last night and into a quiet room of her own. I helped with the transfer, and was glad I could as the new nursing staff weren't fully aware of all the small things that help Holly's comfort (no pillow, needs a mouth suction tube, she'll use it herself, can't drink through her mouth yet, take her temperature in her armpit, not her mouth, etc.).
I left at 11:30pm after 14 hours in the hospital. Holly was sleeping, and I didn't want to wake her, so gave her a kiss on the forehead, squeezed her hand, and slipped out.
Some say life and time are linear...but right now, our lives feel conical, as if we are at the bottom, narrow end of a cone, looking upward while our lives gradually widen around us. I still cry sometimes, but I haven't lost sight of how incredibly lucky we are that things weren't any worse.
Thank you all for your continued support and love. Many of you have asked about visitation, flowers, cards, etc. I'm sorry, but it's really too early still for any visitors. Holly's parents arrive today to visit with her for the first time. I suspect the best time for visitors will be post-surgery, which might be several more days. And sadly, I can't even tell you where to send flowers. Though Holly is in a room today, it's very possible she won't be there tonight or tomorrow. Only time will tell. So please be patient.
Meanwhile, I continue printing out all your notes and messages and well wishes. I told Holly yesterday that everyone sends their love, and that I had lots of well wishes to read her---would she like to hear them now? No, she nodded. I understood completely---she's focused on her pain and comfort, that's about it.
If anyone planned to send anything to Holly in my parents' care down here, you might hold off a day or so until we know where she will be. I'll let everyone know ASAP.
With endless appreciation for alll your care and friendship,
Scott
Hi Everyone...
Holly continues to improve, but after yesterday, it's important that I paint a more sobering picture. Her improvement---though definite---is relative to the severe trauma she endured. She suffered a small amount of bleeding in her brain. Though not life-threatening, it causes her to fatigue far faster and more easily than were the bleeding not present. As a result, she slept more-or-less continuously throughout the day.
She can't chew anything as her upper jaw is loose, and even swallowing is difficult. She's being kept alive purely by fluids delivered intravenously. This probably won't change until after her surgery.
Dialog with Holly is extremely limited (as she's rarely awake), and consist only of direct questions to which Holly can nod "yes" or "no." She did form a few words yesterday, but her voice was deep, scratchy, and hoarse. One of the things she whispered to me---for the second time---was: "What happened to me?" Though I had already told her she was in an accident, I elaborated slightly: "You were flying a hang glider on tow and lost control. I don't know why you lost control, but you did. You impacted the ground hard, and were very lucky to survive. Your body is in excellent shape---no worries there. But your face is pretty banged-up. You have some broken facial bones, and your upper jaw is loose. That's what they will fix in the surgery you need to have." I didn't go any further than that...and she seemed a bit surprised by it, but didn't ask any more.
During a more wakeful moment early yesterday, I asked her a few gentle questions to get a better handle on her memory loss. First, I asked if she remembers even being at Blue Sky at all---no. I asked if she remembers Steve Wendt (her hang gliding instructor)---no. I then asked if she knows who Kate is (my daughter) and she nodded yes. I asked if she knows her two cats---another yes. So with the puzzling exception of Steve Wendt, whom she's known for years, her memory loss certainly extends backwards through the days prior to the accident. (Don't worry Steve---I'm sure she hasn't forgotten you forever!) I know this is normal, and appreciate the comments and stories you have shared with me regarding this. (It's still a little scary though!)
One of the ICU nurses gave me a copy of Holly's latest CT scan analysis. She said "I shouldn't be doing this, but here." (Probably referring to HIPA, etc.) Nothing new there, mainly indication of the facial fractures we already knew about. I clung to the two positive statements: "In comparison to the previous study there has been a significant decrease in the amount of extracoronal and subcutaneous emphysema." (Which I believe means her facial swelling has subsided significantly.) And also..."Evaluation of the intracranial contents demonstrates no acute process." (Which I hope means nothing bad going on in her brain!)
As I'm sure is often the case in situations like this, yesterday was a bit of an emotional roller-coaster for me. Just when I was comfortable all was stable and improving with Holly and she was scheduled for surgery soon, the Marine Corps stepped in. It appears they want to transfer her to Bethesda Naval Medical Center. I don't doubt the quality of care she'd receive at Bethesda...but MCV is equal to Bethesda, and I worry that a transfer (given how bureaucracies function) would create more delays before Holly's surgery.
The reconstructive surgery is a BIG milestone fast approaching. And I wish it would happen sooner, rather than later. I can't stand the idea of Holly existing in this hellish limbo with a smashed face any longer than absolutely necessary. Currently, the surgery at MCV could happen as soon as this Thursday or Friday. But if the transfer to Bethesda happens, it might well be delayed 'til next week.
So I'll be anxiously awaiting whatever decisions are reached today. On a happier note, Holly was transferred out of the ICU late last night and into a quiet room of her own. I helped with the transfer, and was glad I could as the new nursing staff weren't fully aware of all the small things that help Holly's comfort (no pillow, needs a mouth suction tube, she'll use it herself, can't drink through her mouth yet, take her temperature in her armpit, not her mouth, etc.).
I left at 11:30pm after 14 hours in the hospital. Holly was sleeping, and I didn't want to wake her, so gave her a kiss on the forehead, squeezed her hand, and slipped out.
Some say life and time are linear...but right now, our lives feel conical, as if we are at the bottom, narrow end of a cone, looking upward while our lives gradually widen around us. I still cry sometimes, but I haven't lost sight of how incredibly lucky we are that things weren't any worse.
Thank you all for your continued support and love. Many of you have asked about visitation, flowers, cards, etc. I'm sorry, but it's really too early still for any visitors. Holly's parents arrive today to visit with her for the first time. I suspect the best time for visitors will be post-surgery, which might be several more days. And sadly, I can't even tell you where to send flowers. Though Holly is in a room today, it's very possible she won't be there tonight or tomorrow. Only time will tell. So please be patient.
Meanwhile, I continue printing out all your notes and messages and well wishes. I told Holly yesterday that everyone sends their love, and that I had lots of well wishes to read her---would she like to hear them now? No, she nodded. I understood completely---she's focused on her pain and comfort, that's about it.
If anyone planned to send anything to Holly in my parents' care down here, you might hold off a day or so until we know where she will be. I'll let everyone know ASAP.
With endless appreciation for alll your care and friendship,
Scott
Wow---the roller coaster ride continues. Yesterday was a HUGE day for Holly. She literally came roaring back in her recovery. For the first time since the accident, she woke up yesterday morning (Wednesday morning) after sleeping more-or-less continously for 24 hours and started talking normally. Her voice is hoarse and scratchy, but it's been getting more close to normal ever since.
Yesterday, Holly also...
- asked for a hairbrush, brushed her hair and put it in a rubber band
- asked for her cellphone and glasses
- got up to use the bathroom on her own several times
- with a physical therapist, she stood and walked all around the hospital floor for 5 minutes or so
- drank water on her own all day
- ate her first real food late yesterday---some applesauce and chicken broth
The transformation in Holly was simply amazing. It's important to remember that she is still a trauma victim. She still fatigues incredibly easy and quickly, still sleeps more than she is awake, and (most importantly) still faces a 10-hour long, major surgical procedure (with the accompanying difficult recovery time). But the strength and breadth of her recovery yesterday gave me enormous hope and relief, and I feel much better about the impending surgery.
It's been fascinating how her brain is recovering. She clearly experienced significant retrograde amnesia...but over the past few days, it's almost been like watching the missing pieces of a puzzle gradually appear. The doctors yesterday quizzed her at regular intervals to monitor her mental state. (Who is the president? What is your name? Where is your home? etc.) She answers correctly about 90% of the time...but there are occasionally bizarre answers. When asked if she knew what state she was in, she replied "Hawaii." I almost laughed, but she clearly believed it for a moment. Once corrected however, she retains the corrected information in her memory (almost as if her mind simply needs a gentle reminder to "set it straight" again.
Holly also began expressing much greater interest in her accident. She asked me to describe to her in detail what happened, so I did the best I could based on what Steve Wendt described to me. The great thing to see was her mind working well enough and clearly enough that she completely understood all the techno-flying aspects of the discussion (weak link, 45-degree cross, getting thermally, etc.) Even more amazing, she remembered a few details of her setup for launch just prior to the accident. (Before this, she didn't even remember being at Blue Sky---parts of it are clearly returning, though I don't expect she'll remember the accident itself any time soon.)
Holly began showing very faint signs of blaming herself for the accident, which I immediately swept away. She wasn't distraught or upset, but glumly said "I can't believe I did such a boneheaded thing." I told her FORGET IT! It was an accident, period, and it could have happened to any of us. She asked about the glider, and was visibly saddened when I told her the Litesport was totalled. But then, she lightened up and said "Well, that's probably a good thing, 'cause I don't need to be flying a Litesport any more." I agree! She said "I was wearing my Rudy Project sunglasses when I flew too, wasn't I?" I replied "Yep." And she replied "And I guess they're history too, huh?" I replied "Yes, they are---along with your vario." Understand this exchange wasn't made in a sad, depressed way...but Holly was just being more matter-of-fact, just working it all out.
I told her that Steve has made some notes about her accident, and when she's feeling better, he'd be happy to go over it all with her. That cheered her up, as she's clearly looking forward to more post-accident analysis.
I'm also happy to report that as of now, Holly seems fully interested in returning to flying again when she's able. It's almost as if it wouldn't even occur to her to quit. Her spirit wamred my heart!
Late yesterday, we tried giving Steve a phonecall, but didn't reach him (we'll try you again today Steve!). We did reach Tex though. I told Tex, "There's someone here that wants to talk with you Tex." I turned on the speakerphone, and Holly said "Hi Tex." Tex almost exploded over the phone---"HOLLY! HOLLY! You sound GREAT!" They proceeded to have a great conversation, and Tex did a fantastic job cheering Holly up, and he reassured over and over not to worry about the accident or blame herself. As Tex put it, "We've all made mistakes and had accidents---we've all bonked our gliders---you just did it harder!" The call clearly lifted Holly's spirits.
There was a lot of haggling and frustration and phonecalls throughout the day yesterday over Holly's transfer to Bethesda. But it all ended abruptly when the military insurance people called and said "Either we transfer her to Bethesda, or you get a $50,000 bill." Case closed! Holly was prepared for transport.
Before leaving Richmond, I picked up a copy of her latest CT scans on CD-ROM for delivery to Bethesda with Holly. I took 5 minutes to copy all the images and data to my laptop (just in case). We left Richmond around 8pm, and I followed the ambulance all the way to Bethesda (driving Holly's truck). Leaving late was our idea---no traffic! So it was a smooth and easy trip.
We checked her into the National Naval Medical Center around 11pm last night. After seeing that Holly was comfortably resting in her new room (she has her own), I drove around the block to get a room at the Navy Lodge, where I'll be staying for the next few days.
I never doubted the quality of care Holly would receive at NNMC/Bethesda, and now that we're here, I'm glad we are! The creature comforts here are excellent---I finally have access to the Internet at a computer in the family lounge just 10 steps from Holly's room. All the nurses and doctors have been wonderful, and Holly's room is very modern and comfortable.
I finally left her around midnight and headed back over to the Navy Lodge for some sleep. The past few nights, I've been out like a light the second my head hits the pillow, and the moment I wake in the morning my first thought is of Holly, and I'm not happy 'til I've dressed and am back by her side.
Yesterday was a tiring day for Holly, and she's sleeping again now. I wheeled her dow to the audiology lab this morning for a hearing test---all clear, her hearing is fine. The opthalmologists in Richmond gave her eyes a clean bill of health yesterday. Her right eye has some hemorrhaging (and looks a bit scary and Borg-like) but she can see fine and the hemorrhaging will go away soon.
So today we're just relaxing and letting Holly sleep. She brushed her teeth for the first time this morning (she was DYING to do that!), and they've said she can take a shower later today.
As of now (Thursday midday) they are planning on surgery tomorrow, but we haven't had definite comfirmation yet. I hope so. Holly has been given detailed explanations by the doctors in Richmond (yesterday) about her facial injuries and what will be done to repair them. She understands the extent of the surgery, accepts it, and is showing a great amount of can-do strength of will and resiliency.
There are literally dozens of people wanting to visit and talk with Holly, both in the flying community and the Marines. I know Holly would love to see all of you, but I think we should hold off on visits and calls until after her surgery and recovery. If she does have surgery tomorrow, she need to relax and rest today, and regain as much strength as possible. I'm continuing to read her all your messages, which she enjoys hearing---so keep 'em coming!
As always, thanks for all of your continued love and support---it means a lot. And thanks to everyone who has expressed concern for me---don't worry, I'm holding up well. I'm the happiest when I'm with Holly, and I've been pretty amazed at how motivating and energizing love can be. (And yes, I'm enough a food lover not to forget to eat!)
Eventually I'll have time to respond to many of your individual emails, but for now please accept this as my "blanket response." Now that I have regular Internet access again so convenient to Holly's room, I'll be able to provide more frequent (and shorter!) updates!
Scott
Yesterday, Holly also...
- asked for a hairbrush, brushed her hair and put it in a rubber band
- asked for her cellphone and glasses
- got up to use the bathroom on her own several times
- with a physical therapist, she stood and walked all around the hospital floor for 5 minutes or so
- drank water on her own all day
- ate her first real food late yesterday---some applesauce and chicken broth
The transformation in Holly was simply amazing. It's important to remember that she is still a trauma victim. She still fatigues incredibly easy and quickly, still sleeps more than she is awake, and (most importantly) still faces a 10-hour long, major surgical procedure (with the accompanying difficult recovery time). But the strength and breadth of her recovery yesterday gave me enormous hope and relief, and I feel much better about the impending surgery.
It's been fascinating how her brain is recovering. She clearly experienced significant retrograde amnesia...but over the past few days, it's almost been like watching the missing pieces of a puzzle gradually appear. The doctors yesterday quizzed her at regular intervals to monitor her mental state. (Who is the president? What is your name? Where is your home? etc.) She answers correctly about 90% of the time...but there are occasionally bizarre answers. When asked if she knew what state she was in, she replied "Hawaii." I almost laughed, but she clearly believed it for a moment. Once corrected however, she retains the corrected information in her memory (almost as if her mind simply needs a gentle reminder to "set it straight" again.
Holly also began expressing much greater interest in her accident. She asked me to describe to her in detail what happened, so I did the best I could based on what Steve Wendt described to me. The great thing to see was her mind working well enough and clearly enough that she completely understood all the techno-flying aspects of the discussion (weak link, 45-degree cross, getting thermally, etc.) Even more amazing, she remembered a few details of her setup for launch just prior to the accident. (Before this, she didn't even remember being at Blue Sky---parts of it are clearly returning, though I don't expect she'll remember the accident itself any time soon.)
Holly began showing very faint signs of blaming herself for the accident, which I immediately swept away. She wasn't distraught or upset, but glumly said "I can't believe I did such a boneheaded thing." I told her FORGET IT! It was an accident, period, and it could have happened to any of us. She asked about the glider, and was visibly saddened when I told her the Litesport was totalled. But then, she lightened up and said "Well, that's probably a good thing, 'cause I don't need to be flying a Litesport any more." I agree!
She said "I was wearing my Rudy Project sunglasses when I flew too, wasn't I?" I replied "Yep." And she replied "And I guess they're history too, huh?" I replied "Yes, they are---along with your vario." Understand this exchange wasn't made in a sad, depressed way...but Holly was just being more matter-of-fact, just working it all out.I told her that Steve has made some notes about her accident, and when she's feeling better, he'd be happy to go over it all with her. That cheered her up, as she's clearly looking forward to more post-accident analysis.
I'm also happy to report that as of now, Holly seems fully interested in returning to flying again when she's able. It's almost as if it wouldn't even occur to her to quit. Her spirit wamred my heart!
Late yesterday, we tried giving Steve a phonecall, but didn't reach him (we'll try you again today Steve!). We did reach Tex though. I told Tex, "There's someone here that wants to talk with you Tex." I turned on the speakerphone, and Holly said "Hi Tex." Tex almost exploded over the phone---"HOLLY! HOLLY! You sound GREAT!" They proceeded to have a great conversation, and Tex did a fantastic job cheering Holly up, and he reassured over and over not to worry about the accident or blame herself. As Tex put it, "We've all made mistakes and had accidents---we've all bonked our gliders---you just did it harder!" The call clearly lifted Holly's spirits.
There was a lot of haggling and frustration and phonecalls throughout the day yesterday over Holly's transfer to Bethesda. But it all ended abruptly when the military insurance people called and said "Either we transfer her to Bethesda, or you get a $50,000 bill." Case closed! Holly was prepared for transport.
Before leaving Richmond, I picked up a copy of her latest CT scans on CD-ROM for delivery to Bethesda with Holly. I took 5 minutes to copy all the images and data to my laptop (just in case). We left Richmond around 8pm, and I followed the ambulance all the way to Bethesda (driving Holly's truck). Leaving late was our idea---no traffic! So it was a smooth and easy trip.
We checked her into the National Naval Medical Center around 11pm last night. After seeing that Holly was comfortably resting in her new room (she has her own), I drove around the block to get a room at the Navy Lodge, where I'll be staying for the next few days.
I never doubted the quality of care Holly would receive at NNMC/Bethesda, and now that we're here, I'm glad we are! The creature comforts here are excellent---I finally have access to the Internet at a computer in the family lounge just 10 steps from Holly's room. All the nurses and doctors have been wonderful, and Holly's room is very modern and comfortable.
I finally left her around midnight and headed back over to the Navy Lodge for some sleep. The past few nights, I've been out like a light the second my head hits the pillow, and the moment I wake in the morning my first thought is of Holly, and I'm not happy 'til I've dressed and am back by her side.
Yesterday was a tiring day for Holly, and she's sleeping again now. I wheeled her dow to the audiology lab this morning for a hearing test---all clear, her hearing is fine. The opthalmologists in Richmond gave her eyes a clean bill of health yesterday. Her right eye has some hemorrhaging (and looks a bit scary and Borg-like) but she can see fine and the hemorrhaging will go away soon.
So today we're just relaxing and letting Holly sleep. She brushed her teeth for the first time this morning (she was DYING to do that!), and they've said she can take a shower later today.
As of now (Thursday midday) they are planning on surgery tomorrow, but we haven't had definite comfirmation yet. I hope so. Holly has been given detailed explanations by the doctors in Richmond (yesterday) about her facial injuries and what will be done to repair them. She understands the extent of the surgery, accepts it, and is showing a great amount of can-do strength of will and resiliency.
There are literally dozens of people wanting to visit and talk with Holly, both in the flying community and the Marines. I know Holly would love to see all of you, but I think we should hold off on visits and calls until after her surgery and recovery. If she does have surgery tomorrow, she need to relax and rest today, and regain as much strength as possible. I'm continuing to read her all your messages, which she enjoys hearing---so keep 'em coming!
As always, thanks for all of your continued love and support---it means a lot. And thanks to everyone who has expressed concern for me---don't worry, I'm holding up well. I'm the happiest when I'm with Holly, and I've been pretty amazed at how motivating and energizing love can be.
(And yes, I'm enough a food lover not to forget to eat!)Eventually I'll have time to respond to many of your individual emails, but for now please accept this as my "blanket response." Now that I have regular Internet access again so convenient to Holly's room, I'll be able to provide more frequent (and shorter!) updates!
Scott