UPDATE: Thursday, June 2, 2pm
TIME FOR VISITORS!
-----
It looks as though Holly's surgery has been postponed a few days, primarily due to a full OR schedule (war casualties, etc.) This is a little frustrating because we all (including Holly) would like to get it over with ASAP. But the doctors assure us the delay won't result in any harm to Holly at all.
They're hoping to do surgery this coming Tuesday or Wednesday (June 7th or 8th). The doctors are "negotiating" for OR time. This is one drawback to the NNMC (piles of casualties needing surgery)...they would already be doing surgery at MCV in Richmond. But, we'll deal with it.
The good news is that Holly will be able to see more of you before then! I know visitors would lift her spirits a lot. Timing is everything, as she still slips in and out of sleep occasionally (but she definitely perks up a lot when visitors arrive!).
It would help (but isn't mandatory) if anyone who wants to visit could coordinate with other visitors so that perhaps 2-3 or 3-4 people could visit at a time. (Better than a stream of visitors all day long.) I'd also request (unless Holly is alert and wants people to stay longer) visits be limited to not more than 10-20 minutes.
I can't really suggest a good time to visit, as Holly isn't really following any sleeping schedule. Anytime during the day between 9 and 5 is probably fine. Evening is fine too (before 9pm), as I know it might be difficult to leave work during the day. I don't think it's necessary to call me ahead of time, just come on over.
Holly is at the Bethesda National Naval Medical Center, located just inside the Beltway (I-495) off Wisconsin Avenue. (It's a left turn into the hospital entrance if you're coming from the Beltway.) There is a parking garage which generally has spaces up on the top floors during the day.
Holly is in Building 10, 5th Floor East Wing (Surgical Ward), Room 18. I'd rather not post her room phone number generally, but if you can't visit and would like to call, please give me a call and/or drop an email and I'll give you the number.
Thanks for your support and understanding!
Scott
---
Scott Wilkinson
Cell: 717-968-0274
Holly's Accident
Moderator: CHGPA BOD
visiting Holly
I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on. I
think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
Holly's Accident
Ditto. Are any recreational items we can bring her once she's at the
bored, "cooped up in the hospital" phase? - Hugh
P.S. Very convenient for us DC types to visit at Bethesda - let us
know when...
On 2 Jun 2005, at 13:14, Matthew wrote:
> Scott,
>
> Thank you so much for keeping us updated as to Holly's condition.
>
> Matthew
>
>
>
>
bored, "cooped up in the hospital" phase? - Hugh
P.S. Very convenient for us DC types to visit at Bethesda - let us
know when...
On 2 Jun 2005, at 13:14, Matthew wrote:
> Scott,
>
> Thank you so much for keeping us updated as to Holly's condition.
>
> Matthew
>
>
>
>
visiting Holly
I've got to take Jasper to have his cast removed at 4 PM. Was thinking
of going over around lunchtime. Could also go in the evening... - Hugh
On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>
> I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
> I
> think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
> anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
>
> Brian Vant-Hull
> 301-646-1149
>
>
>
of going over around lunchtime. Could also go in the evening... - Hugh
On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>
> I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
> I
> think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
> anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
>
> Brian Vant-Hull
> 301-646-1149
>
>
>
visiting Holly
Can't make it around lunchtime. Maybe after you get Jasper back home give
me a call. One or two others (at most) would make it a party.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
On Thu, 2 Jun 2005 mcelrah@verizon.net wrote:
>
> I've got to take Jasper to have his cast removed at 4 PM. Was thinking
> of going over around lunchtime. Could also go in the evening... - Hugh
>
> On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
> >
> >
> > I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
> > I
> > think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
> > anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
> >
> > Brian Vant-Hull
> > 301-646-1149
> >
> >
> >
>
>
>
me a call. One or two others (at most) would make it a party.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
On Thu, 2 Jun 2005 mcelrah@verizon.net wrote:
>
> I've got to take Jasper to have his cast removed at 4 PM. Was thinking
> of going over around lunchtime. Could also go in the evening... - Hugh
>
> On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
> >
> >
> > I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
> > I
> > think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
> > anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
> >
> > Brian Vant-Hull
> > 301-646-1149
> >
> >
> >
>
>
>
visiting Holly
Now I've got another evening appointment, so will just go solo at
lunchtime... - Hugh
On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>
> I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
> I
> think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
> anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
>
> Brian Vant-Hull
> 301-646-1149
>
>
>
lunchtime... - Hugh
On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>
> I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
> I
> think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
> anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
>
> Brian Vant-Hull
> 301-646-1149
>
>
>
I'm writing this update from home---the first time I've been back here in 8 days. Everything seems strange after the accident, almost like I'm seeing it all again for the first time. My daughter Kate was waiting here for me, and I gave her a huge hug and collapsed in the living room to listen all about her week at school.
Kate has known about Holly's accident since the day it happened, but she has also been very isolated from it, and I don't think she understands the severity of Holly's injuries...nor how close she came to dying. I told her this evening, and she looked a bit stunned. But I reassured her Holly will be be fine, and this fact in itself seemed to prevent Kate from being too upset.
I'm washing clothes, taking Kate to dinner, and just relaxing tonight. Then tomorrow morning, we're both heading back down to the hospital early to spend the day with Holly. I know seeing Kate will lift her spirits. I've found myself longing for the little, normal things in our life as a family with Holly...just being together, having dinner, whatever. Just the little things that make our day-to-day lives what they are. Seeing Kate and Holly together tomorrow will somehow bring us all another step closer to that existence again.
I sometimes step back and think I'm making way too big a deal out of this. I saw Marines today who could barely walk, who were missing both legs, or whose lives were permanently shattered by the enormity of their injuries...and Holly's accident seemed downright trivial. But then when I go back to that moment when I first saw Holly laying on the ground, blood dripping from her nose and mouth, legs twitching...tears well in my eyes at how deep the shock and devastation felt...and I think no, this was a very big deal, at least in our lives.
Holly continues doing great, and today was a long day for her. When I arrived early this morning, we went for a slow and steady walk, arm in arm, all around the hospital. We bought tea and coffee in the main lobby, and chatted idly about the hostas and other plants growing in the courtyards. We wandered into the Navy uniform store and browsed the countless medallions, ribbons, and uniform items for sale.
Later in the morning, Holly had an hour-long shakedown from the opthalmologist to ensure her eyes are in good shape (they are), followed by an hour-long series of mental tests by the neurologists to detect any signs of brain disfunction (all clear there too!). Throughout the day she nibbled and ate various soft foods like baked fish, applesauce, and mashed potatoes and gravy...and drank lots of hot tea, ginger ale and cranberry juice.
She also had a few visitors today which really boosted her morale. Pilots Hugh McElrah and Josh Criss visited (thanks!), both bearing gifts. Holly's parents remain here through her surgery, so they were around this afternoon and are still there now---which gives me comfort while I'm back in Shepherdstown.
---
I just received my first cellphone call from Holly since before the accident!
I never thought a silly ringtone could lift my spirits so much. I have a dedicated ringtone for Holly which I hear every day...and it sounded like a symphony after not hearing it for a week.
Holly reports that her surgery is definitely set for this Tuesday, June 7th. The team of doctors who will perform the repairs on her face explained in detail what would happen. I think this finally registered on Holly today, as she said "Man, they're really going to do some major slicing and dicing of my face!" I'd actually heard all this before from the doctors (so no surprises)---and so had Holly---but I think her exhaustion and short-term memory issues kept her from really understanding (until now) what will happen. She seemed positive about it, though.
The other good news is that some of the doctors have suggested she leave the hospital to spend the weekend at home. This would be great, as I know Holly would love to see her kitties and sleep in her own bed again. But she hasn't received the official "Get Out of Hospital Free" pass---so we'll probably find out tomorrow morning.
If any of you were planning to visit Holly this weekend at the hospital, hold your plans 'til we find out for sure whether she'll be there or not! (I'll update everyone tomorrow morning as soon as I know.) If she goes home, I'm sure she'd still be happy to see some of you at her house in Dumfries (south of DC, just a couple miles off I-95). And regardless of the weekend, she has orders to be back in the hospital again Monday morning at 7am.
I think visiting her Monday in the hospital would be fine too, and I'll check tomorrow. I don't think there will be much for her to do Monday in preparation for the surgery.
Surgery will be significant. A large incision will be made across Holly's hairline so the doctors can "move her face" to get at the bones for repair. She'll have several small titanium plates and pins added to her skull to repair breaks at the bridge of her nose, along her nose, in the floor of her right eye (under the eye) and to re-attach her upper jaw and stabilize it. Finally, her jaws will be wired shut for several weeks. (I joked that we're going to become smoothie experts during that time.) It sounds horrendous...but we also know that they've done it hundreds of times---as well as far worse. (It's somewhat comforting, I think, to hear stories like "One time a patient came in with only half a head, and we rebuilt it all from scratch, and six months later he looked great!") By comparison to much of what they do to injured service folks there, Holly's operation seems trivial.
Okay, time to sign off, throw some clothes in the wash, and go get some dinner with Kate! Again, thanks for all your support, and I'll post another update tomorrow morning letting you all know what's happening this weekend!
Scott
Kate has known about Holly's accident since the day it happened, but she has also been very isolated from it, and I don't think she understands the severity of Holly's injuries...nor how close she came to dying. I told her this evening, and she looked a bit stunned. But I reassured her Holly will be be fine, and this fact in itself seemed to prevent Kate from being too upset.
I'm washing clothes, taking Kate to dinner, and just relaxing tonight. Then tomorrow morning, we're both heading back down to the hospital early to spend the day with Holly. I know seeing Kate will lift her spirits. I've found myself longing for the little, normal things in our life as a family with Holly...just being together, having dinner, whatever. Just the little things that make our day-to-day lives what they are. Seeing Kate and Holly together tomorrow will somehow bring us all another step closer to that existence again.
I sometimes step back and think I'm making way too big a deal out of this. I saw Marines today who could barely walk, who were missing both legs, or whose lives were permanently shattered by the enormity of their injuries...and Holly's accident seemed downright trivial. But then when I go back to that moment when I first saw Holly laying on the ground, blood dripping from her nose and mouth, legs twitching...tears well in my eyes at how deep the shock and devastation felt...and I think no, this was a very big deal, at least in our lives.
Holly continues doing great, and today was a long day for her. When I arrived early this morning, we went for a slow and steady walk, arm in arm, all around the hospital. We bought tea and coffee in the main lobby, and chatted idly about the hostas and other plants growing in the courtyards. We wandered into the Navy uniform store and browsed the countless medallions, ribbons, and uniform items for sale.
Later in the morning, Holly had an hour-long shakedown from the opthalmologist to ensure her eyes are in good shape (they are), followed by an hour-long series of mental tests by the neurologists to detect any signs of brain disfunction (all clear there too!). Throughout the day she nibbled and ate various soft foods like baked fish, applesauce, and mashed potatoes and gravy...and drank lots of hot tea, ginger ale and cranberry juice.
She also had a few visitors today which really boosted her morale. Pilots Hugh McElrah and Josh Criss visited (thanks!), both bearing gifts. Holly's parents remain here through her surgery, so they were around this afternoon and are still there now---which gives me comfort while I'm back in Shepherdstown.
---
I just received my first cellphone call from Holly since before the accident!
I never thought a silly ringtone could lift my spirits so much. I have a dedicated ringtone for Holly which I hear every day...and it sounded like a symphony after not hearing it for a week.Holly reports that her surgery is definitely set for this Tuesday, June 7th. The team of doctors who will perform the repairs on her face explained in detail what would happen. I think this finally registered on Holly today, as she said "Man, they're really going to do some major slicing and dicing of my face!" I'd actually heard all this before from the doctors (so no surprises)---and so had Holly---but I think her exhaustion and short-term memory issues kept her from really understanding (until now) what will happen. She seemed positive about it, though.
The other good news is that some of the doctors have suggested she leave the hospital to spend the weekend at home. This would be great, as I know Holly would love to see her kitties and sleep in her own bed again. But she hasn't received the official "Get Out of Hospital Free" pass---so we'll probably find out tomorrow morning.
If any of you were planning to visit Holly this weekend at the hospital, hold your plans 'til we find out for sure whether she'll be there or not! (I'll update everyone tomorrow morning as soon as I know.) If she goes home, I'm sure she'd still be happy to see some of you at her house in Dumfries (south of DC, just a couple miles off I-95). And regardless of the weekend, she has orders to be back in the hospital again Monday morning at 7am.
I think visiting her Monday in the hospital would be fine too, and I'll check tomorrow. I don't think there will be much for her to do Monday in preparation for the surgery.
Surgery will be significant. A large incision will be made across Holly's hairline so the doctors can "move her face" to get at the bones for repair. She'll have several small titanium plates and pins added to her skull to repair breaks at the bridge of her nose, along her nose, in the floor of her right eye (under the eye) and to re-attach her upper jaw and stabilize it. Finally, her jaws will be wired shut for several weeks. (I joked that we're going to become smoothie experts during that time.) It sounds horrendous...but we also know that they've done it hundreds of times---as well as far worse. (It's somewhat comforting, I think, to hear stories like "One time a patient came in with only half a head, and we rebuilt it all from scratch, and six months later he looked great!") By comparison to much of what they do to injured service folks there, Holly's operation seems trivial.
Okay, time to sign off, throw some clothes in the wash, and go get some dinner with Kate! Again, thanks for all your support, and I'll post another update tomorrow morning letting you all know what's happening this weekend!
Scott
visiting Holly
Holly looks surprisingly good - for someone with an unrepaired skull
fracture. Not the Quasimodo face I had braced myself for. Swollen,
incipient black eyes, but recognizable. She's up and about, walking,
talking, lucid and ...alive! What a relief! After the surgery, she
will have her jaws wired shut, so all you chefs out there come forward
with your puree/mousse/gaspacho recipes. - Hugh
On 3 Jun 2005, at 12:14, mcelrah@verizon.net wrote:
>
> Now I've got another evening appointment, so will just go solo at
> lunchtime... - Hugh
>
> On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>>
>>
>> I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
>> I
>> think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
>> anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
>>
>> Brian Vant-Hull
>> 301-646-1149
>>
>>
>>
>
>
>
fracture. Not the Quasimodo face I had braced myself for. Swollen,
incipient black eyes, but recognizable. She's up and about, walking,
talking, lucid and ...alive! What a relief! After the surgery, she
will have her jaws wired shut, so all you chefs out there come forward
with your puree/mousse/gaspacho recipes. - Hugh
On 3 Jun 2005, at 12:14, mcelrah@verizon.net wrote:
>
> Now I've got another evening appointment, so will just go solo at
> lunchtime... - Hugh
>
> On 2 Jun 2005, at 15:41, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>>
>>
>> I'd be up for paying a visit anytime from late tomorrow afternoon on.
>> I
>> think having two or more at a time helps the cheerfulness factor, so
>> anyone who would like to coordinate, let me know.
>>
>> Brian Vant-Hull
>> 301-646-1149
>>
>>
>>
>
>
>
UPDATE: Saturday morning, June 4
Hi Everyone:
Just wanted to send a quick update to let you know Holly is leaving the Naval Medical Center shortly to spend the weekend at home! She is stable and well enough to leave, say the doctors. I'm happy, as I know it'll do her spirit a world of good to sleep in her own bed tonight.
Please feel free to visit Holly at home---she'd be just as happy to see you there as in the hospital. If you'd like to drop by, just give a call. Visitors will lift Holly's spirits! (And thanks to everyone who has visited so far!)
Holly's house is in Dumfries, VA---about 2 miles west of I-95 off Rt.234 (just south of Potomac Mills Mall). Again, if you'd like to visit, just give me a call and I'll be happy to give you directions.
ALSO: She'll be back here in the hospital all day Monday, and you are WELCOME to visit her then too---no worries about surgery Tuesday!
Thanks!
Scott
PS - Phone numbers...
Scott's cell: 717-968-0274
Holly's house: 703-590-4847
Hi Everyone:
Just wanted to send a quick update to let you know Holly is leaving the Naval Medical Center shortly to spend the weekend at home! She is stable and well enough to leave, say the doctors. I'm happy, as I know it'll do her spirit a world of good to sleep in her own bed tonight.
Please feel free to visit Holly at home---she'd be just as happy to see you there as in the hospital. If you'd like to drop by, just give a call. Visitors will lift Holly's spirits! (And thanks to everyone who has visited so far!)
Holly's house is in Dumfries, VA---about 2 miles west of I-95 off Rt.234 (just south of Potomac Mills Mall). Again, if you'd like to visit, just give me a call and I'll be happy to give you directions.
ALSO: She'll be back here in the hospital all day Monday, and you are WELCOME to visit her then too---no worries about surgery Tuesday!
Thanks!
Scott
PS - Phone numbers...
Scott's cell: 717-968-0274
Holly's house: 703-590-4847
Holly is home now, sleeping like a log. I'm happy she's getting some good sleep without the frequent interruptions by nurses, doctors, etc. We went to the grocery store to stock up on lots of goodies for her like applesauce, Campbell's chicken 'n stars soup, mashed potatoes and gravy, and lots of fresh fruit to blend into smoothies.
All's well for the time being...but the surgery (and post-op recovery) still looms over us. Holly's doing well, though.
Scott
All's well for the time being...but the surgery (and post-op recovery) still looms over us. Holly's doing well, though.
Scott
I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth, barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
I worry about her whole face being filled with countless sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my worrying is much ado about nothing.
Scott
For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth, barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
I worry about her whole face being filled with countless sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my worrying is much ado about nothing.
Scott
Holly's Accident
From my experience of several weeks having to spend 5 minutes getting out
of bed because every twist of the body sends waves of pain, I'll just say that
anything you have to get through, you get through. And so long as there's no
personal malice behind the pain, there's absolutely no psychological
damage. No point in feeling sorry for her, it won't do her any good,
though some tenderness and a helping hand will. The right kind of humor in
reference to her situation will be appreciated.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
On Sat, 4 Jun 2005, Scott wrote:
> I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
>
> For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth, barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
>
> I worry about her whole face being filled with countless sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
>
> I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
>
> I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
>
> Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my worrying is much ado about nothing.
>
> Scott
of bed because every twist of the body sends waves of pain, I'll just say that
anything you have to get through, you get through. And so long as there's no
personal malice behind the pain, there's absolutely no psychological
damage. No point in feeling sorry for her, it won't do her any good,
though some tenderness and a helping hand will. The right kind of humor in
reference to her situation will be appreciated.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
On Sat, 4 Jun 2005, Scott wrote:
> I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
>
> For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth, barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
>
> I worry about her whole face being filled with countless sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
>
> I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
>
> I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
>
> Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my worrying is much ado about nothing.
>
> Scott
Holly's Accident
Sorry, didn't mean tenderness, meant affection. Tenderness might suggest
feeling sorry for her, and that gets old real quick. Upbeat, matter of fact
about the discomfort. It will pass - help her poke fun at it.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
On Sun, 5 Jun 2005, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>
> >From my experience of several weeks having to spend 5 minutes getting out
> of bed because every twist of the body sends waves of pain, I'll just say that
> anything you have to get through, you get through. And so long as there's no
> personal malice behind the pain, there's absolutely no psychological
> damage. No point in feeling sorry for her, it won't do her any good,
> though some tenderness and a helping hand will. The right kind of humor in
> reference to her situation will be appreciated.
>
> Brian Vant-Hull
> 301-646-1149
>
> On Sat, 4 Jun 2005, Scott wrote:
>
> > I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
> >
> > For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth, barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
> >
> > I worry about her whole face being filled with countless sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
> >
> > I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
> >
> > I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
> >
> > Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my worrying is much ado about nothing.
> >
> > Scott
>
>
feeling sorry for her, and that gets old real quick. Upbeat, matter of fact
about the discomfort. It will pass - help her poke fun at it.
Brian Vant-Hull
301-646-1149
On Sun, 5 Jun 2005, Vant-Hull - Brian wrote:
>
>
> >From my experience of several weeks having to spend 5 minutes getting out
> of bed because every twist of the body sends waves of pain, I'll just say that
> anything you have to get through, you get through. And so long as there's no
> personal malice behind the pain, there's absolutely no psychological
> damage. No point in feeling sorry for her, it won't do her any good,
> though some tenderness and a helping hand will. The right kind of humor in
> reference to her situation will be appreciated.
>
> Brian Vant-Hull
> 301-646-1149
>
> On Sat, 4 Jun 2005, Scott wrote:
>
> > I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
> >
> > For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth, barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
> >
> > I worry about her whole face being filled with countless sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
> >
> > I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
> >
> > I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
> >
> > Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my worrying is much ado about nothing.
> >
> > Scott
>
>
Holly's Accident
It may be feeble advice, but try not to worry about stuff you can't do
anything about. If it's bad, it will be bad: if it's good, good. In
either case, you are doing all you can - being there for Holly. Sort
of like worrying about getting in an accident - you do what you can to
avoid them, but you could get hit by a meteorite while hiding under
your bed... so go ride motorcycles and hang glide - who knows, you
might dodge a meteorite... - Hugh
On 4 Jun 2005, at 21:54, Scott wrote:
> I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and
> I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears
> unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week
> or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
>
> For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be
> a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might
> have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any
> knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just
> imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth,
> barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose
> clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when
> it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't
> used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
>
> I worry about her whole face being filled with countless
> sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a
> tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole
> in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
>
> I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm
> worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal
> isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be
> a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own
> nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in
> the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
>
> I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it
> happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get
> through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
>
> Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my
> worrying is much ado about nothing.
>
> Scott
>
>
>
>
anything about. If it's bad, it will be bad: if it's good, good. In
either case, you are doing all you can - being there for Holly. Sort
of like worrying about getting in an accident - you do what you can to
avoid them, but you could get hit by a meteorite while hiding under
your bed... so go ride motorcycles and hang glide - who knows, you
might dodge a meteorite... - Hugh
On 4 Jun 2005, at 21:54, Scott wrote:
> I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and
> I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears
> unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week
> or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
>
> For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be
> a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might
> have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any
> knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just
> imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth,
> barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose
> clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when
> it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't
> used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
>
> I worry about her whole face being filled with countless
> sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a
> tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole
> in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
>
> I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm
> worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal
> isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be
> a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own
> nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in
> the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
>
> I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it
> happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get
> through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
>
> Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my
> worrying is much ado about nothing.
>
> Scott
>
>
>
>
-
drice21037
- Posts: 69
- Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 11:00 pm
- Location: Annapolis, MD
Holly's Accident
Hugh's right, worrying won't do any good when it's about stuff you can't do
anything about. It's just too bad that most of your worrying is probably not
under your control.
I think everybody deserves at least one person who loves them enough to freak
out unnecessarily about things they can't control but would if they could.
She has all the rest of us and plenty of other friends for the calm, cool and
objective stuff. So long as your not bringing her down in the process, nothing
says 'I love you' like being more worried about her surgury than she is.
Dave
Quoting mcelrah@verizon.net:
>
> It may be feeble advice, but try not to worry about stuff you can't do
> anything about. If it's bad, it will be bad: if it's good, good. In
> either case, you are doing all you can - being there for Holly. Sort
> of like worrying about getting in an accident - you do what you can to
> avoid them, but you could get hit by a meteorite while hiding under
> your bed... so go ride motorcycles and hang glide - who knows, you
> might dodge a meteorite... - Hugh
>
> On 4 Jun 2005, at 21:54, Scott wrote:
>
> > I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and
> > I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears
> > unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week
> > or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
> >
> > For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be
> > a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might
> > have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any
> > knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just
> > imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth,
> > barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose
> > clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when
> > it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't
> > used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
> >
> > I worry about her whole face being filled with countless
> > sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a
> > tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole
> > in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
> >
> > I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm
> > worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal
> > isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be
> > a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own
> > nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in
> > the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
> >
> > I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it
> > happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get
> > through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
> >
> > Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my
> > worrying is much ado about nothing.
> >
> > Scott
> >
> >
> >
> >
>
>
___________________________________________________________
This mail sent using ToadMail -- Web based e-mail @ ToadNet
anything about. It's just too bad that most of your worrying is probably not
under your control.
I think everybody deserves at least one person who loves them enough to freak
out unnecessarily about things they can't control but would if they could.
She has all the rest of us and plenty of other friends for the calm, cool and
objective stuff. So long as your not bringing her down in the process, nothing
says 'I love you' like being more worried about her surgury than she is.
Dave
Quoting mcelrah@verizon.net:
>
> It may be feeble advice, but try not to worry about stuff you can't do
> anything about. If it's bad, it will be bad: if it's good, good. In
> either case, you are doing all you can - being there for Holly. Sort
> of like worrying about getting in an accident - you do what you can to
> avoid them, but you could get hit by a meteorite while hiding under
> your bed... so go ride motorcycles and hang glide - who knows, you
> might dodge a meteorite... - Hugh
>
> On 4 Jun 2005, at 21:54, Scott wrote:
>
> > I'm scared of Holly's surgery to come. I know the surgery is good, and
> > I know she'll recover fully...and perhaps I'm projecting my own fears
> > unnecessarily onto Holly...but I'm getting worried that the first week
> > or two following surgery are going to be incredibly tough for her.
> >
> > For example, her jaws will be wired shut. This seems like it would be
> > a nightmare. I don't know if I could stand it. Some people here might
> > have been through some similar experiences...does anyone have any
> > knowledge of (or experience with) jaws being wired shut? I'm just
> > imagining all sorts of small issues...not being able to brush teeth,
> > barely being able to talk, the critical importance of keeping the nose
> > clear to breath (since you can't breath well through your mouth when
> > it's wired closed)...constantly feeling hungry because the body isn't
> > used to an all-liquid diet, etc.
> >
> > I worry about her whole face being filled with countless
> > sutures...(they're even talking about possibly having to do a
> > tracheotomy just during surgery to keep her mouth clear...geez, a hole
> > in her NECK??? How many more will there be?)
> >
> > I'm generally an optimistic person, so I'm somewhat surprised I'm
> > worrying this much...I just know that even if the physical ordeal
> > isn't that bad...the mental ordeal can be significant. The mind can be
> > a dangerous thing...especially when left alone to come up with its own
> > nightmares...I feel that it's critical that I not leave Holly alone in
> > the coming days. (Am I being silly?)
> >
> > I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst, I guess...so if it
> > happens I'm ready for it with constructive ways of helping Holly get
> > through it. (And if it's not that bad, great!)
> >
> > Any advice or personal experiences are appreciated. And I hope my
> > worrying is much ado about nothing.
> >
> > Scott
> >
> >
> >
> >
>
>
___________________________________________________________
This mail sent using ToadMail -- Web based e-mail @ ToadNet
UPDATE on Holly: Monday Evening
Not much new to report on Holly's condition. She's sleeping now after a busy day of appointments and visitors. She had a few Marine Corps officers visit...one was Mary Kate Bailey and her husband...the other was a Major, Holly's company commander---whose name I can't recall (my apologies to the Major!). Holly greatly appreciated both visits.
She also had a surprise visit by Tex Forrest and Sandi Martina from the flight park. Tex was piloting the tow plane when Holly crashed, and I know he was beating himself up a bit over the accident. Visiting Holly was good for them both. He's got a great sense of humor and made Holly laugh---good medicine. Finally, a snowboarding friend came to visit, bearing fun snowboarding DVDs for us to watch.
Holly and I had a final meeting/exam with Capt Markwell, the ENT (Ear/Nose/Throat) doctor leading the surgical team. He wanted to scope Holly's nasal passages to determine whether she could be intubated through her nose during surgery. The decision was no---her nose is too beat-up for that, so she will have a tracheotomy instead. Though it sounds horrible, Dr. Markwell assured us it's not a big deal, and actually safer for Holly as it's a "sure bet" surgically speaking, with virtually no risk. Holly will be required to have the trach tube in her throat for a few days following the surgery until the swelling in her nose diminshes enough for her to breath safely that way.
Dr. Markwell also told us that he *hoped* Holly's jaw wouldn't remain wired closed for more than two weeks (and---depending on how well her recovery goes---possibly as little as a week to 10 days). He was fairly certain the jaw wiring would not be required for a long period (in other words, not for 5-6 weeks). This due to the improvements/reliability of the titanium plates and pins used to repair her face.
---
I'm sure Holly is a bit nervous, but she isn't showing it. She wants to get on with it and get on with her recovery---she's looking forward! I'm very nervous, though I have full faith in Dr. Markwell and his team. I think my nervousness comes more from what I imagine could be a tough first day or two after surgery. If Holly isn't too uncomfortable and disturbed by the jaw wiring or the trach tube, I'll be a lot happier.
That's about it. Holly's surgery starts at 7:30am tomorrow (Tuesday). I'll be here at 5am to be sure I can accompany her to the pre-op room, where they'll let me stay with her until she's ready for anesthesia. Dr. Markwell told me they'll be able to provide us a couple updates during the surgery, which I appreciate.
I'll email with an post-op update tomorrow night and/or early Wednesday morning!
Scott
Not much new to report on Holly's condition. She's sleeping now after a busy day of appointments and visitors. She had a few Marine Corps officers visit...one was Mary Kate Bailey and her husband...the other was a Major, Holly's company commander---whose name I can't recall (my apologies to the Major!). Holly greatly appreciated both visits.
She also had a surprise visit by Tex Forrest and Sandi Martina from the flight park. Tex was piloting the tow plane when Holly crashed, and I know he was beating himself up a bit over the accident. Visiting Holly was good for them both. He's got a great sense of humor and made Holly laugh---good medicine. Finally, a snowboarding friend came to visit, bearing fun snowboarding DVDs for us to watch.
Holly and I had a final meeting/exam with Capt Markwell, the ENT (Ear/Nose/Throat) doctor leading the surgical team. He wanted to scope Holly's nasal passages to determine whether she could be intubated through her nose during surgery. The decision was no---her nose is too beat-up for that, so she will have a tracheotomy instead. Though it sounds horrible, Dr. Markwell assured us it's not a big deal, and actually safer for Holly as it's a "sure bet" surgically speaking, with virtually no risk. Holly will be required to have the trach tube in her throat for a few days following the surgery until the swelling in her nose diminshes enough for her to breath safely that way.
Dr. Markwell also told us that he *hoped* Holly's jaw wouldn't remain wired closed for more than two weeks (and---depending on how well her recovery goes---possibly as little as a week to 10 days). He was fairly certain the jaw wiring would not be required for a long period (in other words, not for 5-6 weeks). This due to the improvements/reliability of the titanium plates and pins used to repair her face.
---
I'm sure Holly is a bit nervous, but she isn't showing it. She wants to get on with it and get on with her recovery---she's looking forward! I'm very nervous, though I have full faith in Dr. Markwell and his team. I think my nervousness comes more from what I imagine could be a tough first day or two after surgery. If Holly isn't too uncomfortable and disturbed by the jaw wiring or the trach tube, I'll be a lot happier.
That's about it. Holly's surgery starts at 7:30am tomorrow (Tuesday). I'll be here at 5am to be sure I can accompany her to the pre-op room, where they'll let me stay with her until she's ready for anesthesia. Dr. Markwell told me they'll be able to provide us a couple updates during the surgery, which I appreciate.
I'll email with an post-op update tomorrow night and/or early Wednesday morning!
Scott
UPDATE: Surgery Day, 1pm
---
It's been a long morning of waiting. Finally, the head nurse called my cellphone to report that all is going well. As of 1pm, (after 4-5 hours of surgery) they had just finished positioning and repairing her jaw. Now comes the more difficult part---repairing the other facial fractures, particularly those around the top of her nose.
The nurse assured me Holly is doing fine. Whew! Surgery will continue for at least another 4 hours, possibly more.
Scott
---
It's been a long morning of waiting. Finally, the head nurse called my cellphone to report that all is going well. As of 1pm, (after 4-5 hours of surgery) they had just finished positioning and repairing her jaw. Now comes the more difficult part---repairing the other facial fractures, particularly those around the top of her nose.
The nurse assured me Holly is doing fine. Whew! Surgery will continue for at least another 4 hours, possibly more.
Scott
UPDATE on Holly - 7:25pm
The surgery continues. We (Holly's parents and I) got a call around 4:45pm telling us it would be another 2 hours or so. At 6:30pm we went down to the surgery waiting room, full of anticipation and anxiety. We waited...and waited...and the phone rang, and we almost jumped out of our seats to answer it. It was 7:15pm.
"Holly's doing fine," the voice from the OR said, "and they're working on the plates in her nose right now. It'll likely be another two hours."
We slumped with frustration and mental exhaustion. Two more hours. What a marathon---12 hours of surgery and counting. So now we're looking at around 9pm. This is definitely the longest day of my life. I've tried to sleep (closing my eyes) but couldn't. I want to cry, but I'm not even sure I can do that.
Look for another update sometime after 9pm tonight.
Wearily,
Scott
The surgery continues. We (Holly's parents and I) got a call around 4:45pm telling us it would be another 2 hours or so. At 6:30pm we went down to the surgery waiting room, full of anticipation and anxiety. We waited...and waited...and the phone rang, and we almost jumped out of our seats to answer it. It was 7:15pm.
"Holly's doing fine," the voice from the OR said, "and they're working on the plates in her nose right now. It'll likely be another two hours."
We slumped with frustration and mental exhaustion. Two more hours. What a marathon---12 hours of surgery and counting. So now we're looking at around 9pm. This is definitely the longest day of my life. I've tried to sleep (closing my eyes) but couldn't. I want to cry, but I'm not even sure I can do that.
Look for another update sometime after 9pm tonight.
Wearily,
Scott
Holly's recovery
Okay - time for a new award certificate in the club: Longest Surgical Procedure! Or perhaps that should be for "Toughest Pilot"?
I suspect Holly has told the doctors "see the picture of Linda's nose? Don't put mine back together like that!" which is why it is taking them so long...(she will get one that functions, unlike mine).
Hang in there Holly - and Scott too! -Linda
I suspect Holly has told the doctors "see the picture of Linda's nose? Don't put mine back together like that!" which is why it is taking them so long...(she will get one that functions, unlike mine).
Hang in there Holly - and Scott too! -Linda
UPDATE on Holly - 9:30pm
This will be my final update tonight. We just heard from the OR again. Holly is in the final stretch---all hardware is in place, and they are now closing all the incisions and applying bandages. They said maybe one more hour, so we're looking at 10:15pm.
They said Holly is doing fine, and some good news: they did *not* make the large, ear-to-ear, over-the-forehead incision (which was their "Plan B"), and made all repairs either through her mouth, or through a smaller incision beneath her eye (or eyes?) and across the bridge of her nose. We hope this will mean a bit less swelling, and a bit less recovery time.
Though we may get to see her briefly, I'm sure we won't communicate with Holly tonight---she'll likely be far too out-of-it. That's okay. I'll be able to sleep knowing it's all over and Holly is okay. She'll spend the night tonight in a closely-monitored recovery room, and hopefully come back up to her room tomorrow.
I'll be crashing like a ton of bricks when this is over. I'm thankful, and modern medical technology is (in my opinion) almost as miraculous as the miracle that saved her in the first place.
More tomorrow.
Scott
This will be my final update tonight. We just heard from the OR again. Holly is in the final stretch---all hardware is in place, and they are now closing all the incisions and applying bandages. They said maybe one more hour, so we're looking at 10:15pm.
They said Holly is doing fine, and some good news: they did *not* make the large, ear-to-ear, over-the-forehead incision (which was their "Plan B"), and made all repairs either through her mouth, or through a smaller incision beneath her eye (or eyes?) and across the bridge of her nose. We hope this will mean a bit less swelling, and a bit less recovery time.
Though we may get to see her briefly, I'm sure we won't communicate with Holly tonight---she'll likely be far too out-of-it. That's okay. I'll be able to sleep knowing it's all over and Holly is okay. She'll spend the night tonight in a closely-monitored recovery room, and hopefully come back up to her room tomorrow.
I'll be crashing like a ton of bricks when this is over. I'm thankful, and modern medical technology is (in my opinion) almost as miraculous as the miracle that saved her in the first place.
More tomorrow.
Scott
Wednesday morning
---
Holly is doing as well as can be expected after 15 hours of surgery. The doctors came to see us around 10:45pm last night. They said everything went fine. Once into surgery, they found many more fractures than were evident on the CT scan. Holly's face wasn't just cracked in a few places, it was shattered into many pieces over large areas. Piecing everything together and securing it in place was meticulous, time-consuming work.
Now Holly is quite literally the "Terminator," with a largely titanium face. No more easy trips through airport gates. <weak smile>
I first saw her in the recovery room close to midnight. I was completely floored...not by her physical appearance (which was better than I expected) but by her extreme anxiety, rapid, shallow breathing (through the tracheotomy), and generally helpless and miserable state. It tore me up. I held her hand briefly, stroked her hair, told her I loved her...then had to get away. After 20 hours of waiting, it was all too much, and one of the most difficult moments in my life, but I imagine far more difficult for Holly. She cannot see (her eyes are swollen shut), cannot speak, cannot open her mouth, and breaths through her throat.
I wandered back to the lodge, somewhat shellshocked, but mercifully fell asleep quickly. I couldn't bear silence, so I turned on the radio and fell asleep to jazz.
---
Holly is back in her room on the 5th floor this morning. I just peeked into her room and she was sleeping, so I didn't bother her. I honestly have no clue what her discomfort level is. I hope minimal.
---
I hope some of you aren't tired of these posts. Please understand that besides keeping you all in touch, writing these updates is good for me. It gives me a valuable chance to sit, think, and calm my thoughts of the days' events. Now that surgery is over, I'll start limiting future updates to one a day.
And to pilots reading these messages, please bear in mind the physical and emotional devastation that accompanies an accident like this. I have far greater empathy now for others who have been through it. I am nobody to lecture and don't mean to. I'm still reeling from the lasting consequences of a few effortlessly simple flying-related decisions and events that could happen to any of us. Enjoy the wonder of free-soaring flight, and remain vigilant and careful. Complacency can be deadly.
I haven't loss sight of how lucky we are that Holly is still here. <weak smile>
Thanks,
Scott
---
Holly is doing as well as can be expected after 15 hours of surgery. The doctors came to see us around 10:45pm last night. They said everything went fine. Once into surgery, they found many more fractures than were evident on the CT scan. Holly's face wasn't just cracked in a few places, it was shattered into many pieces over large areas. Piecing everything together and securing it in place was meticulous, time-consuming work.
Now Holly is quite literally the "Terminator," with a largely titanium face. No more easy trips through airport gates. <weak smile>
I first saw her in the recovery room close to midnight. I was completely floored...not by her physical appearance (which was better than I expected) but by her extreme anxiety, rapid, shallow breathing (through the tracheotomy), and generally helpless and miserable state. It tore me up. I held her hand briefly, stroked her hair, told her I loved her...then had to get away. After 20 hours of waiting, it was all too much, and one of the most difficult moments in my life, but I imagine far more difficult for Holly. She cannot see (her eyes are swollen shut), cannot speak, cannot open her mouth, and breaths through her throat.
I wandered back to the lodge, somewhat shellshocked, but mercifully fell asleep quickly. I couldn't bear silence, so I turned on the radio and fell asleep to jazz.
---
Holly is back in her room on the 5th floor this morning. I just peeked into her room and she was sleeping, so I didn't bother her. I honestly have no clue what her discomfort level is. I hope minimal.
---
I hope some of you aren't tired of these posts. Please understand that besides keeping you all in touch, writing these updates is good for me. It gives me a valuable chance to sit, think, and calm my thoughts of the days' events. Now that surgery is over, I'll start limiting future updates to one a day.
And to pilots reading these messages, please bear in mind the physical and emotional devastation that accompanies an accident like this. I have far greater empathy now for others who have been through it. I am nobody to lecture and don't mean to. I'm still reeling from the lasting consequences of a few effortlessly simple flying-related decisions and events that could happen to any of us. Enjoy the wonder of free-soaring flight, and remain vigilant and careful. Complacency can be deadly.
I haven't loss sight of how lucky we are that Holly is still here. <weak smile>
Thanks,
Scott
-
hang_pilot
- Posts: 662
- Joined: Thu Jan 06, 2005 11:13 pm
- Location: Tallahassee, FL
Holly's Accident
[Scott] I hope some of you aren't tired of these posts.
[Daniel]? Don’t even consider worrying about that! There is no such thing as too much information right now.? I read your posts as soon as I see them and am riveted.? Thank you for keeping us so well informed.?
Holly is so strong.? She WILL be on the front end of the recovery time range!
~Daniel
?
?
?
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[ST:XCL]
[Daniel]? Don’t even consider worrying about that! There is no such thing as too much information right now.? I read your posts as soon as I see them and am riveted.? Thank you for keeping us so well informed.?
Holly is so strong.? She WILL be on the front end of the recovery time range!
~Daniel
?
?
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UPDATE on Holly: Wednesday night
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A tracheotomy sucks. It's hideous, for starters. As I sit by Holly's bed when she's resting, I'm glad she can't see me, because I can't stop from staring at her trach tube. All sorts of terrible associations run through my mind...Frankenstein...the Borg (from Star Trek)...a third eye...it's just not right, terribly un-natural.
Holly's having a tough time dealing with it. She constantly feels like she's having trouble breathing. It must be like trying to breath through a straw. On top of that, it is tightly sutured to her neck. (Sorry to be so graphic, but that's reality.)
She's miserable, uncomfortable, and anxious...and the doctors are all applauding and saying she's doing FANTASTIC! It's a case of "medical tough love." When the patient is kicking and groaning, the doctors all say "Good! Good!" <weak smile> They obviously prefer a fighting patient to a passive one...and Holly is certainly fighting. I thought I'd lose it when one doctor casually hosed down her lungs with saline through her trach tube. She gasped, hacked, coughed, groaned...and the doctor smiled and said "Good! You're doing great Captain!"
This is all tough to bear...and I keep telling myself "She's doing great. She's doing great. She's doing great." A new nurse is assigned to Holly tonight, and she's fantastic. She's here on temporary assignment away from her normal duties on board the Hope, a Navy hospital ship. She's a world class nurse, very no-nonsense in her blue Navy jumpsuit, confident, knowledgeable, and compassionate. God bless nurses. (And doctors too.)
So now we wait. Holly's next difficult step is to try drinking and swallowing. If that goes well, they will remove one of the Borg-like tubes that runs through her nose to her stomach. Then, she must gradually learn to breath through her mouth again, while the tracheotomy is still there.
The best-case scenario is that she'll have the tracheotomy removed sometime Friday, and might even be able to go home sometime this weekend. It all depends on how strong she is...and how hard she fights. I know she wants out of here...NOW...so she'll fight. She's showing her strength as a Marine. (If anything, we need to prevent her from trying too hard too soon.)
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Next door is a 21-year-old Marine who was shot through the bottom by a .50-caliber round. Then there is another Marine who was riding his motorcycle and had a head-on collision with a car. Still another young woman has a brain aneurism. We know all their parents now, as we all sit together in the family lounge. It sounds depressing, but I've never seen such enormous resilience, compassion, and strength in people. The family lounge is a mutual support center, a place where we all share our stories and concerns. All good.
With Holly's parents keeping an eye on her, I walked back to my room at the Navy Lodge this afternoon and crashed. I slept soundly for 2-3 hours, and woke feeling much better. Otherwise, we spend our time alternately sitting with Holly, talking in the lounge, checking in with friends and family, and making trips down to the lobby for coffee or a snack.
It's been a strange journey, my whole world narrowing down to this facility and Holly. Every day will get better, though...and that keeps me going.
Scott
-----
A tracheotomy sucks. It's hideous, for starters. As I sit by Holly's bed when she's resting, I'm glad she can't see me, because I can't stop from staring at her trach tube. All sorts of terrible associations run through my mind...Frankenstein...the Borg (from Star Trek)...a third eye...it's just not right, terribly un-natural.
Holly's having a tough time dealing with it. She constantly feels like she's having trouble breathing. It must be like trying to breath through a straw. On top of that, it is tightly sutured to her neck. (Sorry to be so graphic, but that's reality.)
She's miserable, uncomfortable, and anxious...and the doctors are all applauding and saying she's doing FANTASTIC! It's a case of "medical tough love." When the patient is kicking and groaning, the doctors all say "Good! Good!" <weak smile> They obviously prefer a fighting patient to a passive one...and Holly is certainly fighting. I thought I'd lose it when one doctor casually hosed down her lungs with saline through her trach tube. She gasped, hacked, coughed, groaned...and the doctor smiled and said "Good! You're doing great Captain!"
This is all tough to bear...and I keep telling myself "She's doing great. She's doing great. She's doing great." A new nurse is assigned to Holly tonight, and she's fantastic. She's here on temporary assignment away from her normal duties on board the Hope, a Navy hospital ship. She's a world class nurse, very no-nonsense in her blue Navy jumpsuit, confident, knowledgeable, and compassionate. God bless nurses. (And doctors too.)
So now we wait. Holly's next difficult step is to try drinking and swallowing. If that goes well, they will remove one of the Borg-like tubes that runs through her nose to her stomach. Then, she must gradually learn to breath through her mouth again, while the tracheotomy is still there.
The best-case scenario is that she'll have the tracheotomy removed sometime Friday, and might even be able to go home sometime this weekend. It all depends on how strong she is...and how hard she fights. I know she wants out of here...NOW...so she'll fight. She's showing her strength as a Marine. (If anything, we need to prevent her from trying too hard too soon.)
---
Next door is a 21-year-old Marine who was shot through the bottom by a .50-caliber round. Then there is another Marine who was riding his motorcycle and had a head-on collision with a car. Still another young woman has a brain aneurism. We know all their parents now, as we all sit together in the family lounge. It sounds depressing, but I've never seen such enormous resilience, compassion, and strength in people. The family lounge is a mutual support center, a place where we all share our stories and concerns. All good.
With Holly's parents keeping an eye on her, I walked back to my room at the Navy Lodge this afternoon and crashed. I slept soundly for 2-3 hours, and woke feeling much better. Otherwise, we spend our time alternately sitting with Holly, talking in the lounge, checking in with friends and family, and making trips down to the lobby for coffee or a snack.
It's been a strange journey, my whole world narrowing down to this facility and Holly. Every day will get better, though...and that keeps me going.
Scott
UPDATE on Holly: Thursday night
Last night (Wednesday night) was the worst yet. Holly was having difficulty breathing through her tracheotomy all night. (Try breathing for an hour through a straw, and you get the idea.) She hacked and coughed, and hit rock bottom. She was miserable, and at one point wrote "I quit" on a dry-erase board I got for her.
I left well past midnight, miserable at having to leave, but knowing I needed sleep. I didn't get more than 3 hours' worth. I woke at 6:30am this morning to a phone call from the head nurse, who told me all hell broke loose with Holly during the night. Suffice it to say she was not happy, and made this very clear to the nurses. They had to move her to a room closer to their main desk.
When I hurried in this morning, Holly squeezed my hand, then took the dry-erase board and wrote "This was NOT the right treatment for me. I hacked and coughed all night and got very little sleep." I didn't know what to say, because in my opinion, it *was* the right treatment. She then wrote, "How much longer do I have to stay here?" I said possibly no more than 2 more days. She then wrote "But I am no longer participating in the program." She had all but given up, and it broke my heart.
All I could do was offer generic reassurances along the lines of "Stay strong," or "We'll get through this," or "not much longer before you're out of here." It seemed pathetic. I wanted concrete information and actions, but didn't get any 'til midday, when one of the ENT doctors, a woman she likes, came up and told Holly to come down to her clinic.
After getting a new IV, Holly swung her legs from the bed, stood up, and forcefully pointed to the door, as if to say "Let's GO!" I offered to get her a wheelchair, and she shook her head---no way. She was going to walk. When we arrived at the clinic, the ENT doctor downsized Holly's tracheotomy tube so she could begin breathing around it---a critical step toward restoring normal breathing through her throat. This made a difference, as I heard Holly speak (faintly) for the first time...a sign that air was flowing through her vocal cords again.
Then came a grueling session of jaw wire-tightening, which Holly did not enjoy. But our final reward was when the doctor laid out some concrete next steps: if Holly could drink and keep liquids down, they'd remove the stomach tube (from her nose) tonight. Then, if she could breath normally tonight with her tracheotomy tube plugged, they would remove that tomorrow. It was exactly what Holly needed to hear---her orders, as it were.
Breathing easier, she slept on and off through the afternoon. She also drank some water and cranberry juice, which she kept down. She was counting bigtime on getting that stomach tube removed, and tonight it happened. What a relief! She was instantly happier---one down, one to go. She celebrated by drinking most of a cup of beef broth.
So from the depths of last night, we're looking at a much better evening tonight. We all need it. I'm exhausted, and need a good night's sleep. So does Holly. We're keeping fingers crossed that she'll pass the "breathing test" tonight and get the trach removed tomorrow. The doctor says if she does, it might be a record for how soon a patient's trach is removed after surgery. (If anyone can do it, Holly can.)
So that's it for now. I'm headed downstairs in search of food (Probably Subway...again!) And holly should be more comfortable tonight. tomorrow will be a critical day---especially if the trach is removed---and could determine whether she'll go home this weekend.
Scott
Last night (Wednesday night) was the worst yet. Holly was having difficulty breathing through her tracheotomy all night. (Try breathing for an hour through a straw, and you get the idea.) She hacked and coughed, and hit rock bottom. She was miserable, and at one point wrote "I quit" on a dry-erase board I got for her.
I left well past midnight, miserable at having to leave, but knowing I needed sleep. I didn't get more than 3 hours' worth. I woke at 6:30am this morning to a phone call from the head nurse, who told me all hell broke loose with Holly during the night. Suffice it to say she was not happy, and made this very clear to the nurses. They had to move her to a room closer to their main desk.
When I hurried in this morning, Holly squeezed my hand, then took the dry-erase board and wrote "This was NOT the right treatment for me. I hacked and coughed all night and got very little sleep." I didn't know what to say, because in my opinion, it *was* the right treatment. She then wrote, "How much longer do I have to stay here?" I said possibly no more than 2 more days. She then wrote "But I am no longer participating in the program." She had all but given up, and it broke my heart.
All I could do was offer generic reassurances along the lines of "Stay strong," or "We'll get through this," or "not much longer before you're out of here." It seemed pathetic. I wanted concrete information and actions, but didn't get any 'til midday, when one of the ENT doctors, a woman she likes, came up and told Holly to come down to her clinic.
After getting a new IV, Holly swung her legs from the bed, stood up, and forcefully pointed to the door, as if to say "Let's GO!" I offered to get her a wheelchair, and she shook her head---no way. She was going to walk. When we arrived at the clinic, the ENT doctor downsized Holly's tracheotomy tube so she could begin breathing around it---a critical step toward restoring normal breathing through her throat. This made a difference, as I heard Holly speak (faintly) for the first time...a sign that air was flowing through her vocal cords again.
Then came a grueling session of jaw wire-tightening, which Holly did not enjoy. But our final reward was when the doctor laid out some concrete next steps: if Holly could drink and keep liquids down, they'd remove the stomach tube (from her nose) tonight. Then, if she could breath normally tonight with her tracheotomy tube plugged, they would remove that tomorrow. It was exactly what Holly needed to hear---her orders, as it were.
Breathing easier, she slept on and off through the afternoon. She also drank some water and cranberry juice, which she kept down. She was counting bigtime on getting that stomach tube removed, and tonight it happened. What a relief! She was instantly happier---one down, one to go. She celebrated by drinking most of a cup of beef broth.
So from the depths of last night, we're looking at a much better evening tonight. We all need it. I'm exhausted, and need a good night's sleep. So does Holly. We're keeping fingers crossed that she'll pass the "breathing test" tonight and get the trach removed tomorrow. The doctor says if she does, it might be a record for how soon a patient's trach is removed after surgery. (If anyone can do it, Holly can.)
So that's it for now. I'm headed downstairs in search of food (Probably Subway...again!) And holly should be more comfortable tonight. tomorrow will be a critical day---especially if the trach is removed---and could determine whether she'll go home this weekend.
Scott