Friday, October 08, 2004
THERAPY BEGINS....APRIL 1980
The day of surgery was on Wednesday, April 16th. I arrived at the hospital early as we weren’t sure what the schedule was. Warren wasn’t given any breakfast and was ready to go when they notified the staff on our floor. We waited most of the day and finally at 4:30pm they came for him. I stayed in his room during surgery and it was after 7:30pm when they told me he was in the recovery room and doing OK. He didn’t get back to the room until after 10:00pm and I left about a half hour later to catch the Duty Ride back to the Guest House.
I got ready for bed and knew I would really sleep well this night. I had been at the hospital over 16-hours since morning. The worst was surely over now…hopefully. Once the stump healed we would be able to be fit for a prosthesis. I fell asleep thinking it wouldn’t be long until we could go home.
The next day was a little more relaxed. I slept later and called mom and a few family members. I wanted them to know the good news when there was some. We were so far away no one could drop in to visit and Missouri seemed light years away. Dr. Campbell came in and told us everything looked good ….Warren was pretty woozy and icky most of the day. He slept a lot and I wrote letters and kept my journal. I also had some needlework to work on when he slept so time was not a burden to me.
The days passed while Warren healed. He eventually got into a wheel chair for most of each day and started his physical therapy. The young therapist who came to talk to him about it said, “I’m long on motivation and short on sympathy. I want you to be serious about this because it’s your ticket home. The sooner you get down to hard work, the sooner you can go.” Warren was always a “pleaser” and liked to do well so he knocked himself out at these sessions and she was always amazed at his progress.
We worked out in a large room down on the main floor where every kind of exercise equipment was assembled for men to rehabilitate. Most were young guys that had met their injuries while they were on leave or just “horsing around.” Some were retired types like Warren who through no fault of their own had major health problems and were joined with the group of “kids.” There was mutual compatibility, for each found themselves there for whatever reason……..why they got there was not important to any of them….getting out was. I loved the way they rallied around each other and applauded when someone painfully performed his best effort to do what the therapist wanted.
During those times, day after day, we met a lot of really great guys who were mostly amputees. They worked so hard to go up steps, to learn to sit down, to get up, to walk, to use a prosthesis for an arm and hand…learning to button with it and do the simple tasks required for daily living. In the process everyone became very well acquainted and a lot of the kids would come by our room during the afternoon and evening. They were pretty lonely for the most part and Warren and I were like resident parents so they liked to sit and gab. Warren always had a hearty laugh that was undeniable once you heard it. His laughter at their stories and jokes would sound up and down the hall until everyone wanted to come see what was so funny. When he laughed you just couldn’t help yourself!! You had to laugh along whether you knew why or not. We were all a captive group until well enough to leave and so everyone made the best of it.
Warren had one last surgery on his stump to close the skin over the thigh bone. All of the de-breeding and such had taken some of the skin with it until the bone was longer than the flesh. They didn’t want to do surgery on the stump again but they had to and then he was in traction for some time with weights attached to the skin pulling the skin over the bone. He wouldn’t need grafting so this time was the last. Technically, we were finally ahead of schedule with the healing.
On the day of Warren’s last surgery I began feeling bad while he was gone and had to leave. I came down with a virus that had been going around our floor…East Wing 5. I walked back to the Guest House and went to bed. I had a bad night and the next day stayed in bed. I had vomited until I had dry heaves and I called the Wing at the hospital to have them tell Warren I had the flu and couldn’t come. He got Dr. Campbell to order me some medicine and had it sent over.
The cleaning lady found me at 1:00pm and told the manager, Mrs. Johnson, that I was ill. She brought me some Sprite and I was able to keep it down…a good friend from back home had a sister who lived in Denver and came to my rescue. She bundled me up and took me to her home and fed me until I was strong enough to go back to Fitzsimmons. I had talked with Warren on the phone so that had eased my mind about being away from him.
I shall always be grateful for angels unaware who appear in your need and give aide and comfort. What do you do when someone has done so much and you are unable to give anything in return? Gratitude is the best gift and if it is possible….find someone else to help later on……..
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
I got ready for bed and knew I would really sleep well this night. I had been at the hospital over 16-hours since morning. The worst was surely over now…hopefully. Once the stump healed we would be able to be fit for a prosthesis. I fell asleep thinking it wouldn’t be long until we could go home.
The next day was a little more relaxed. I slept later and called mom and a few family members. I wanted them to know the good news when there was some. We were so far away no one could drop in to visit and Missouri seemed light years away. Dr. Campbell came in and told us everything looked good ….Warren was pretty woozy and icky most of the day. He slept a lot and I wrote letters and kept my journal. I also had some needlework to work on when he slept so time was not a burden to me.
The days passed while Warren healed. He eventually got into a wheel chair for most of each day and started his physical therapy. The young therapist who came to talk to him about it said, “I’m long on motivation and short on sympathy. I want you to be serious about this because it’s your ticket home. The sooner you get down to hard work, the sooner you can go.” Warren was always a “pleaser” and liked to do well so he knocked himself out at these sessions and she was always amazed at his progress.
We worked out in a large room down on the main floor where every kind of exercise equipment was assembled for men to rehabilitate. Most were young guys that had met their injuries while they were on leave or just “horsing around.” Some were retired types like Warren who through no fault of their own had major health problems and were joined with the group of “kids.” There was mutual compatibility, for each found themselves there for whatever reason……..why they got there was not important to any of them….getting out was. I loved the way they rallied around each other and applauded when someone painfully performed his best effort to do what the therapist wanted.
During those times, day after day, we met a lot of really great guys who were mostly amputees. They worked so hard to go up steps, to learn to sit down, to get up, to walk, to use a prosthesis for an arm and hand…learning to button with it and do the simple tasks required for daily living. In the process everyone became very well acquainted and a lot of the kids would come by our room during the afternoon and evening. They were pretty lonely for the most part and Warren and I were like resident parents so they liked to sit and gab. Warren always had a hearty laugh that was undeniable once you heard it. His laughter at their stories and jokes would sound up and down the hall until everyone wanted to come see what was so funny. When he laughed you just couldn’t help yourself!! You had to laugh along whether you knew why or not. We were all a captive group until well enough to leave and so everyone made the best of it.
Warren had one last surgery on his stump to close the skin over the thigh bone. All of the de-breeding and such had taken some of the skin with it until the bone was longer than the flesh. They didn’t want to do surgery on the stump again but they had to and then he was in traction for some time with weights attached to the skin pulling the skin over the bone. He wouldn’t need grafting so this time was the last. Technically, we were finally ahead of schedule with the healing.
On the day of Warren’s last surgery I began feeling bad while he was gone and had to leave. I came down with a virus that had been going around our floor…East Wing 5. I walked back to the Guest House and went to bed. I had a bad night and the next day stayed in bed. I had vomited until I had dry heaves and I called the Wing at the hospital to have them tell Warren I had the flu and couldn’t come. He got Dr. Campbell to order me some medicine and had it sent over.
The cleaning lady found me at 1:00pm and told the manager, Mrs. Johnson, that I was ill. She brought me some Sprite and I was able to keep it down…a good friend from back home had a sister who lived in Denver and came to my rescue. She bundled me up and took me to her home and fed me until I was strong enough to go back to Fitzsimmons. I had talked with Warren on the phone so that had eased my mind about being away from him.
I shall always be grateful for angels unaware who appear in your need and give aide and comfort. What do you do when someone has done so much and you are unable to give anything in return? Gratitude is the best gift and if it is possible….find someone else to help later on……..
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
