14 Screws (Update for February 26, 2016)

Sam went to the neurosurgeon again this past Monday for a final visit before his surgery on February 29. The doctor said he was having the surgery at the right time, before more scar tissue formed on his head. His blood pressure was 99/57, fairly low. He will be admitted to the hospital Monday morning and will probably be there for two nights and three days. During the surgery, they will put 14 screws in his head to keep his skull in place, and probably have another 55 staples. I'm having a little bit of a hard time with that. But I know, realistically, that this is a new beginning.

#1 Sam Sitter

T-shirt by Jessica

Something good ... my sweet friend Jessica, a talented designer, did me a huge favor and designed a T-shirt for our "Sam Sitters" ... a gesture of our thankfulness for all of those giving up time for my family. Our "Sam Sitters" hang out with Sam when Bridget has to go to class or run errands. The T-shirts were delivered this week, and Sam and Bridget love them. Some people have asked me if they are for sale, but they are not for sale at this time. Weezy loves hers, even if it is a tad big.

Sam called me on the phone on Monday night to tell me about his doctor visit and how he was feeling. He is anxious, and nervous, about his surgery. It will free him from his helmet, but he will never be rid of the need to be careful. Never ever ever.

Sam, Bridget and Molly in Maggie's garden.

Sam has never been a risk taker, but he was an athletic kid — always going all out when playing sports. He broke his arm, not once, but twice growing up. Once playing playground football and once playing "shoe" hockey. Just kids being kids. He had to have surgery the first time. Then, later in high school, he injured his shoulder playing basketball, his ankle playing baseball, and probably a few other things. He played competitive soccer and all-star baseball throughout his younger years.

But his first love was always basketball. He attended the UALR basketball camp every summer since he was 6 years old. He won the free-throw shooting contest twice (plus a few other things). He played basketball at school, through the Boys' Clubs, and in a Church League (his favorite because he was with his best friends). And, he even played AAU basketball for popular Arkansas teams, the Wings and the Hawks. He was a 6'1" point guard who could shoot "the 3." He always made games exciting, winning many with last second shots. During the last few years, he played pickup games wherever and whenever he could, including with my friend and co-worker's (Matthew's) backyard league (literally, his backyard). At Portland State, he would play games with other students when he could.

And, now, at 26 years old, his basketball playing days are over. He said to me on Monday, "I can't believe I won't be able to play basketball anymore. But, that's ok, I can go to the gym and just shoot baskets by myself." I have shed a few tears over that every day since he told me that. It's a sobering reality to accept. My beautiful son has lost so much. He has always been sociable and friendly, and now he will be shooting baskets all alone. Trey, another friend and co-worker, who played with Sam at Matthew's house, said to me, "That's what bothers me, too. I didn't want to say anything to you. He is so good at basketball."

Sam and I also talked about our summer trip to Minnesota, and he said Bridget was going to bring her swimsuit. They had been looking forward to jet skis and boating. I told him he should bring his, too, but he said, "I probably won't need it." Another moment gone for him forever.

While Sam was in the trauma unit, I did an interview for a Wisconsin radio station. I only listened to it today. It made me cry. Here it is:

https://m.soundcloud.com/620-wtmj/mom-of-son-hospitalized-after-attack-due-to-his-packers-hat

I've been so heartbroken, and so many people have expressed empathy to my situation. Anyone who is a parent feels this with me every day. But, I wonder about the mother of the person who did this to my son. Does she feel my pain? Does she pray for Sam? I don't know her, and probably never will, but I wonder and think about her. I am questioning whether she does the same for me.

I won't blog again until Monday after Sam is out of surgery. Pray for him.

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking about my precious son.

Time Out (Update for February 21, 2016)

Sam enjoys lunch outside. 

Sam had a good day yesterday. He's been trapped inside so much that Bridget decided it would be a good idea to get him out of house to have some lunch. She said she was "spoiling him" with a special treat of oysters and lemonade. They sat outside at a restaurant in Portland called The Observatory, and enjoyed their time together. Sam still has fluid restrictions, but Bridget has this figured out, and easily keeps him at his 2-liter limit per day. 

Today, they were home relaxing. Sam slept in, and then they watched the Daytona 500. Knowing they aren't racing fans, Bridget jokingly said she wasn't sure why they were watching it. But, we all agree, whatever Sam wants. So, knowing that, they also watched The Brady Brunch and Sam questioned Mike and Carol's parenting skills. Nice. 

Tomorrow, he has an appointment with his neurologist. Then, one week from tomorrow, cranioplasty. Our family feels strongly that the real healing can begin after the surgery. As far as he has come, the road to full recovery will be easier when the surgery is complete. I will keep everyone up to date through his surgery next week, and through his recovery going forward. This blog does me good, and helps everyone share in this journey with my family and my son. It's an honest account of what I am feeling and what is happening. I am thankful for your support and prayers. It's made all the difference. 

I will be reaching out to the Portland Police Department next week. If there is any news to report related to the investigation, I will let everyone know through my blog. 

I've been thinking a lot about Sam's friends lately. I moved around a lot when I was a kid, and never really had those lifelong friendships. I wanted my kids to have that, and they did. They have roots in Arkansas and solid, loving friendships. I don't think that will ever change; their friends really are family to Sam and Molly. So many of their friends have went above and beyond to help them when they needed it. When Molly had her seizures in college, it was her friends who stayed by her side when I couldn't be there. Molly's friends took up a collection to pay for her trip to see Sam in a few weeks. Sam's friends, and their parents, have donated thousands of dollars to the GoFundMe account. Their friends are rock solid, and a source of happiness for me.

When Sam was in high school, one of his best friends, Nick B., passed away. Sam was heartbroken. Nick was a serious and handsome young man, tall and dark-haired. I was driving home from work, ignoring my phone, but when I pulled in the driveway I finally glanced at it. I saw that both of my children had called me and texted me numerous times. I walked in my house through my garage, and I heard Sam and Molly sobbing. They were sitting on the stairs, hugging each other. The next few minutes, after Sam was able to tell me about Nick, are hard to recall because the shock and grief were overwhelming. It was one of the saddest days I can remember, and the weeks that followed were difficult for all of us who loved Nick, both his friends and wonderful family. Sam and all of Nick's friends were devastated, and that feeling lingers. Nick was family. I'm thinking of Nick today, because he is what having a lifelong friend means. And, to Nick's parents Chris and Debbie, who have reached out to Sam during this time ... know that Nick was a good friend to Sam as well. 

Sam and friend Ellen in Montana, 2013.

Hunter, Richmond, Sam, Wilson and Nick, 2008.

Sam, Nick H., Sophie and Jeff, 2006 or 07.

When Sam was finally cognizant of his surroundings at the hospital, some of his first thoughts were of his friends. Did they know? Would I please call them? I called three of his closest friends from Arkansas — Jeff, Nick H. and Wilson. They all three were sitting by the phone, waiting to hear from me. Through tears, we talked and they just wanted to make sure Sam knew they loved him and were thinking of him. Sam was too emotional and ill to speak to them at that time, but now I believe he is texting them regularly. Whether Sam comes to Arkansas for awhile, or they go there, I believe time with them will help his recovery. I think I still owe Hunter, Cameron and Ellen a phone call. 

It's great to have friends that are family. I ordered some T-shirts for those who sit with Sam, when Bridget can't be there, to thank them ... the shirts say "Life is better with friends" and it is of course. You all are proof of that. My own friends and family have made this journey so much easier. And, I've made some new friends, even if it is through Facebook and email messages. I appreciate these new connections. Yesterday, I received a message from a mom in Little Rock named Jodi. I don't know her, but her words touched me and she called this moment in our lives an "unplanned time out" and that makes sense to me. For all of you, like Joni, who share your stories and your lives with me through email, Facebook and GoFundMe, thank you for making us a part of your lives. 

I want to thank Vie De Boheme and Heather Christie for auctioning off a bottle of wine at their Heartbreak Valentine's event and raising $175 for Sam and Bridget. 

Thank you for reading this blog, and for thinking of my precious son. 

Rest and Recovery (Update for February 19, 2016)

Sam is doing what he needs to be doing prior to his next surgery: resting, recovering and reading. He is spending his days with his "Sam Sitters," (Josie, in particular) Weezy and Bridget. He is happy, and his attitude is very good. He's been sending me funny and sweet texts. He seems a lot like himself. His recliner is doing its job.

Sam comfortable at home. 

The weather has been pretty dismal in Portland, but that's OK, as Sam gets time to rest and watch some TV. He and Bridget like The Great British Baking Show on Netflix. ANYWAY, today Sam was going to wash his head/hair again. It's a delicate job because of his injury. After that, he and Bridget were planning on taking a stroll around the block. It does him good.

I feel happier, and am finding joy in normal day-to-day things. I'm thankful for Dan, he makes every day better. I am anxious to see Sam, and am still worried every second of every day. But, I know he's getting better and stronger; I know his surgery is just around the corner; and I know I will see him soon (and Molly!). I'm heading to Portland on February 27. During my time there, I will blog regularly to keep everyone up to date on his second surgery and recovery.

My friends, family and those who have come to know Sam through this blog continue to check in on him almost daily.  Media reps still wants to talk to Sam (but that's not in his plans). He needs to focus on healing and resting, and I don't want him to be distracted or worried about anything else. Thanks to GoFundMe and the generosity of many, resting is a reality for him. It's an amazing gift.

Mark Twain playing cards. Thank you Jillian.

When Sam was younger, he loved to read books by Mark Twain. And many of his friends called him Clemens in homage. Jillian, a lifelong friend, classmate and neighbor of Sam's, remembered and sent Sam a special deck of cards. He has always made an impression on others with his love and knowledge of literature, and Jillian gave him a very special gift as a reminder of his impact.

Thank you for reading this blog, and for thinking of my sweet son.

Dizzy Days and a Typewriter (Update for February 15, 2016)

Sam didn't particularly want to go to therapy today. He's feeling so much better that it's easy for him to want to "skip" therapy, but he knows it's for his health and his future and it's important to go ... so he went. And it went great. He spent 3.5 hours with speech, occupational and physical therapists. He won't have to go back until after his cranioplasty on February 29. Then, he will continue with all three therapies to see what is better or different after that second surgery.

Although he is improving every day, he still is struggling with dizziness. Because this continues to be an issue, he will have to see a neuro-optomestrist as well as the audiologist. He also has to visit an ortho rehab doctor, to check on his injured ankle. Doctors and more doctors.

Bridget surprised Sam with a selfless and thoughtful gift for Valentine's Day, a typewriter. Sam and Bridget are old souls, and this is a perfect gift for a poet, excuse me, a "writer of prose" as he says. I asked Bridget if it actually worked, and she proved it to me (see photo). People of my age learned on a typewriter, but Sam didn't, he took "keyboarding" in high school. What's old is new to him. Writing on a typewriter takes determination; it's not easy to make a change. You better write what you feel ... and mean it ... because it's difficult to start again. Some of you remember that.

Sam's favorite picture. 

Sam is a talented, pure "writer of prose," a creative hoarder, rarely sharing his reflective musings. Molly writes easily of her life and feelings, an essayist with a gift for storytelling. There is power in their writing, and I hope they both will share more of it with the world someday. I wish I had their talents, but I'm a technical writer, a grammar nerd. They love words and books and poetry, and it's a gift.

Dad, stepmom, Dan, Sam and Molly.

I'm anxious to go to Portland at the end of February, to see my son and Bridget, my daughter who is joining us for a long weekend, and my dad and stepmom ... who have never met Bridget! It's going to be nice reunion, even under the circumstances.

Thank you for reading this blog, and for thinking of my sweet son.

Happy Valentine's Day to Sam and Bridget

Happy Valentine's Day. 

I thought it would be appropriate to share one of my favorite photos of Sam and Bridget, on this special day for sweethearts. If there has ever been a young couple meant to be together, it's these two. 

This photo, although I didn't know it at the time, was the last time I could hold onto any semblance of my control of his life. This is the photo I took of Sam and Bridget before they drove off to their new life in Oregon. I was saying goodbye, crying, and the look Sam was giving me in this picture is just so him ... a slight smile, soulful eyes, and a thumbs up to me for encouragement. I was glad he had his own dreams, and someone to share them with, but I selfishly wanted him to stay in Arkansas. 

Although the reason is gut-wrenching, I have been given a gift that few mothers ever receive. In the last month, I have watched the literal transition as Bridget took my place as the most important female in my son's life. I witnessed her devotion, and his vulnerability, firsthand. When he needed someone to hold his hand, it was Bridget who brought him comfort. When he was afraid, Bridget soothed him. When he needed a caregiver, she happily accepted the role.  

And, it makes my heart happy. I will gladly stand aside, and watch this sweet union from my appropriate place. My son has found his soulmate, and I cherish her as well. 

Surgery Scheduled! (Update for February 13, 2016)

No more wondering, but a little bit of waiting. Sam's cranioplasty has been scheduled for Monday, February 29. There has to be some irony (and joy) there somewhere in the fact we only have to really acknowledge that date once every four years. I will be returning to Portland for 10 days during that time. Bridget and Sam both feel like the next few weeks will be excruciating, all the waiting. They anticipate Sam will be in the hospital two days (down from the previous four-day estimate). Molly will join me in Portland after his surgery, as that is Sam's preference. And, my dad and stepmom will be joining us for a few days, too. I'm so glad he will be surrounded by family and love.

Sam is reading more and more every day, working to improve his comprehension. Bridget took him by his favorite store, Powell's Books, and bought him some magazines and a card game. Then, yesterday, he spent time reading every single message on his GoFundMe page. Every single message. He loved seeing the messages from high school classmates (and Bridget liked seeing the ones from hers, too). He read the messages from family and friends, including many new friends from the Packer nation. He was shocked by all the donations and kind words from people he doesn't know. He asked Bridget, "How could so many people care about me?" Previously, his understanding of the kindness of strangers was limited, and now it is overwhelming. Like his mom, Sam is grateful.

Loving his new recliner. 

And, in other news, the recliner is in the house. And, Sam is loving it. It was a gift from my mom and stepdad. Bridget is being very frugal with the GoFundMe money, paying rent and living expenses, and buying a few things to make Sam's life more comfortable. She knows the money is a cherished gift, and she honors the trust of many by spending the money as required ... to keep them self sufficient as Sam heals. So additional items they need (like the recliner), and costs (travel, etc.), are being covered by family. Sam didn't want me to have a picture for the blog, and that's a good sign. Sam has never liked to have his picture taken, or to be the center of attention. However, Bridget gave me one anyway. He looks so good. He's smiling.

Thank you Wendy. 

Bridget was having trouble getting Sam to wash his head, and that is totally my fault. When he had the staples in, and his head was swollen, bruised and tender ... and me knowing that part of his skull was missing ... I didn't want anyone to touch his head, no water on it, nothing. Sam heard me, and has kept that fire burning even though I am gone. Bridget had to resort to having the neurosurgeon telling Sam it was OK to wash his head/hair. Sorry Bridget.

Sam continues to improve every day, and focus on his reading comprehension. He goes back to therapy on Monday, and I will blog again on Monday evening ... let everyone know how it goes. I anticipate a good day for Sam.

My sweet friend Wendy bought me a Valentine's gift for my office. I love it.

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking about my precious son.

Surgery News (Update for February 10, 2016)

Waiting at the doctor's office.

I was waiting anxiously to hear from Bridget today, hoping for good news with Sam's doctor visit ... AND no problems at all during Sam’s checkup with the neurosurgeon ... and his surgery will be scheduled within 3 to 4 weeks, depending on OR availability. This surgery will be to return his left skull flap, which is currently stored away at the hospital, back into his skull, and he will be whole again. The fact that I have to say that and think it AND that we are talking about my son’s fragile head is almost too much to bear. I am sad that I have to worry about it, but happy for modern medicine. We are anxious to hang up the helmet. I think he should forever think of it as a badge of courage, proving he is a survivor. 

These will be slowest weeks of my life, but this stage is really almost over. Then, he can focus on total healing which means resting, reading, walking and returning to his normal, beautiful life with Bridget. 

Sam and Molly. Clothes, my fault.

When I know the actual date of his surgery, I will be returning to Portland for the surgery and to stay some time afterward to help Bridget and Sam as needed. Other family members, still to be determined, also will be there. Most importantly, Molly will be there. I’ve said before that they have always been close, and it’s true. I never had trouble when they were little when I asked them to “hug” for pictures or attend each other's baseball games or dance recitals, and they always are anxious to see each other when they are apart. Tonight, Molly and I "Facetimed" for maybe 1 hour. She is so funny, just like her brother, and she always makes me laugh. I can't wait to see the two of them together ... they are hilarious. 

I almost didn't cry today, and that would have made this a pretty good week for me. But I thought about this awful situation one too many times when I was talking to my sweet friend Wendy. Someday when I think of my son, I won't think about how violence touched his life and changed it forever, but I will think of the books he is reading, the classes he is taking and the fun he is having on the coast of Oregon. I can't wait. 

I have to mention my place of employment one last time. I can't walk down the hall without someone asking me about my son. They know Sam, Bridget, Molly and Weezy by name. (They already knew Dan). They are obsessed with sodium levels, and wonder if Sam's recliner has arrived (it will tomorrow). They wait anxiously for news. They rejoice when Sam opens a book. They are even learning to love the Packers. They are living this with me, feeling my pain and moments of relief. I'm not sure there is another company that offers this same sense of family, of compassion. Arkansas Blue Cross, it's people and it's culture, is for real.

Thanks mom. 

I received a gift from my mom in the mail yesterday. It was my favorite dessert ... Oatmeal Carmelitas ... which was a perfect treat during this Valentine's Day week. 

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking of my precious son. This journey continues, but there is hope for complete healing for Sam.

CORRECTION: I misspoke in my blog the other day when I said Sam's sodium levels had hovered around 135 when he was in the hospital. That was actually the high end, near when he was released. The majority of the time it was much lower, and that is why it was a cause for concern. Sorry about that. 

Frustration (Update for February 9, 2016)

Sam today. 

I didn’t blog yesterday because I got home late, and there wasn't much news. Sam had a good day yesterday. He rested all day, and he went to his PCP to check his sodium level (was unable to do it on Friday due to dehydration). Instead of doing it in his office, the doctor sent him to the Legacy Emanuel lab for the blood draw. 

So today, I waited all day for the doctor’s office to call with his sodium level. I ran out of patience about 4 p.m. Little Rock time, 2 p.m. Portland time. Bridget was in class, and Sam was hanging out with sweet "Sam Sitter" Josie, so I decided to try to get the information myself. I called EIGHT different numbers, per the wild goose chase every person I talked to sent me on AND ended up talking to the same person I called in the first place. She finally told me she would have someone call me back. I was frustrated because every doctor and nurse in Portland had me paranoid about salt, and his sodium level was unknown! 

Then, relief. The doctor's office finally called me back (6 p.m. Arkansas time) with the news that Sam's sodium level was 138. Normal range. The normal range for sodium levels is between 136 and 148. At the hospital, Sam's hovered around 135. Before his injury, in late December, Sam had his annual check-up in Arkansas. His sodium level at that time was 141. 

When Sam was in the hospital, everyone was attentive and caring. Now that he has been released, I am having a hard time finding that same consideration. It was hard to get information today. And, they have pushed his therapy out a week (until next Monday). And, they already switched his PCP from one to another. It's frustrating. 

Josie said he was a good mood this afternoon, and she and Sam were going to work on some “fuzzy posters.” Pretty sure that’s an art thing. I texted Sam that his sodium level was 138, and he responded "Yes!" We are all excited. 

Thanks Mom. 

The next big milestone will be later this week, when he goes to his neurosurgeon for his CT scans to check his brain swelling. If the swelling is gone, they could schedule his next surgery. If not, he will have to wait a few weeks and go through the CT scans again. So, prayers for SWELLING DOWN is what we need today. 

It's been very hard being HERE when he is THERE. I feel a little helpless. What makes it easier is all my great friends and family. My friends and co-workers Damona and Tracy sent me flowers to cheer me up. My long-time dear friend Ann sent lunch to my office yesterday with some fresh flowers. My friend Karen listened to me for 1.5 hours last night, and I only cried once. My mom sent Sam a Packers blanket. 

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking of my son.

Thank you Damona, Tracy.

Thank you Ann.

Clothes and Books (Update for February 7, 2016)

Sam reading his Bob Dylan book from Rene.

Goodbye Clothes
When Sam was rushed to the hospital and then emergency surgery after he was assaulted, the doctors and nurses had to keep his poor, injured head immobilized, so they cut all of his clothes off of him. He had been wearing his favorite pair of pants, an Abbey Bar T-shirt, his winter coat, his absolute favorite hoodie that I had bought him a few years before, his new shoes, and his Green Bay Packers beanie. 

The clothes were placed in a bag and given to Bridget. We opened the bag a day or so later, while we sat on the floor of his ICU room, and cried over his clothes. Bridget was upset because he was wearing his favorite things and his brand new coat, and it was just so damn sad to see his clothes cut apart. I was upset for those reasons, and just thinking about my son — who doesn't care about clothes at all (like his mom) — having just a few favorite items and losing them all. I know that losing a few pieces of clothing is nothing in the bigger picture, but it was another moment of loss. It's hard to explain, even for a lover of words, how all of these moments stack up to something bigger and more tormenting. 

Sam, Molly and his favorite hoodie. I love this picture.

Although last week his father went shopping to replace some of Sam's clothes and his jacket, it was on my mind today because it was my responsibility to replace the hoodie he loved so much. The actual (right brand and look) hoodie is, sadly, no longer available. So, I asked Molly to help me. She spent time searching the Internet and found some that were very close and sent all the links to me, so I could choose the one to purchase. And, just this morning, I looked over all of them and placed the order. It took me three weeks to make the purchase. I just wanted to think about it. And, it's NOT the same jacket and it's NOT the one he loved, so Molly and I hope it will be enough. 

Hello Books

I texted Sam this morning with a "Happy Super Bowl Sunday!" I was anxious to see if he had any interest in watching football, something he has always loved. He texted me back immediately with some football and celebratory emojis. He watched the game, without cheering for either team.

 
But here is the best news ever. Sam and Bridget took a walk around their block today with Weezy. It was sunny in Portland, and he felt up to going outside. AND, he spent some time today reading. Not homework, actual reading. There's nothing in this world Sam loves better, and the fact that he felt up to reading is just everything. The more he practices, the easier it will become. According to Bridget, he was reading some Flannery O'Connor stories, and his new Bob Dylan book from my long-time friend and co-worker, Rene. 

My brother Jon called me today. He and Sam have always been close; they keep each other laughing. He has told my mom it's hard to focus on anything but thinking about Sam. It seems to the common thread throughout my family, and many of my friends. It's hard to think about anything else but Sam's recovery. What happened to Sam has numerous ripple effects, and all of our lives have changed. 

There are several more fundraisers for Sam coming soon, one on February 14 at Vie De Boheme in Portland (thank you Heather Christie) where they will have a raffle to benefit Sam and Bridget, and the Firkin Fundraiser on February 25 (thank you Billy Dye). I continue to be amazed at the love and generosity. 
It's been three weeks since I went to Portland and Sam was in ICU. The speed of his recovery continues to astonish me. It's a miracle. Thank you for your good thoughts and prayers; it's working. 

Marbles From A Drawer Digital Download

Bridget performing at Vie De Boheme. 

I still have a few more Pre-Release Digital Download CDs of Marbles From A Drawer (featuring "Bridgetown" - a song co-written by Bridget and her father, David) for those who email me (first 50) at kmwhitehorn@yahoo.com (put MARBLES in the subject line ). You will receive a digital download link from Blue Canoe Records. It's a musical thank you from David, Bridget and Blue Canoe Records (thank you, Joseph) to those who are thinking of and praying for Sam. 

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking of my precious son. 

Bridget's Song (Update for February 6, 2016)

Sam and Bridget, fun times. 

Sam had a good day today. His attitude is wayyyy better than mine. Bridget said he was very focused on his "brain exercises." The therapists sent books home with him full of puzzles, memory games, reading ... and he spent the afternoon doing his homework. He is very motivated to return to his normal life, and I'm so proud of his attitude. He's getting stronger every day. He and Bridget spent the rest of the day resting at home. He has slept well the last few nights, no night sweats. 

Bridget has a gift for you. But first, the backstory.

Both of Bridget's parents are talented musicians. Music is a lifelong calling for both of them, it's what and who they are. (So, Bridget is doubly blessed.) Her mother, Maggie Kitson, is a songstress who currently has a band, "Maggie and the Kats" that perform at Sweet Basil's Cafe in Cannon Beach, Oregon. Watch Maggie here with Richard Thomasian. 

Bridget's dad, David Ellington, has spent many years recording and performing in New Orleans, and now in Atlanta. Get to know David here. 

David Ellington asked his daughter Bridget to co-write and perform on his upcoming CD, Marbles From A Drawer, and the result is "Bridgetown," a song about Portland. The CD isn't being released until April 29 by Blue Canoe Records, but here is a song on it for you today. It's beautiful, and it is David and Bridget's thank you gift to you for all you've done for Sam. 

BRIDGETOWN, FEATURING BRIDGET KITSON

Listen to Bridget here.

Beautiful Bridget

As you can tell if you have listened to her song with her father, Bridget is a talented musician, singer and songwriter, and she has put her hopes and dreams of a music career on hold while she cares for Sam. She was scheduled to perform with other local Portland musicians on February 14 at Vie De Boheme in Portland, but she has cancelled that performance. The show will go on, and there will be a raffle to raise funds for Sam and Bridget. 

I didn't know Bridget was a musician and singer when Sam first brought her home to meet me. She's humble, and Sam never mentioned it. Then, she walked into my living room, and noticed my piano ... forgotten and gathering dust from long ago piano lessons (not me, Sam and Molly). She was excited about the piano, and asked if she could play it. I said "Sure," and she sat there and played and sang the Stevie Nicks/Don Henley tune, "Leather and Lace." Perfection. When Dan, Molly and I went to Portland last summer, she sang a duet with her mom, "Angel From Montgomery." That is a special memory. 

Marbles From A Drawer Digital Download

I also have a Pre-Release Digital Download CD of Marbles From A Drawer to the first 50 people who email me at kmwhitehorn@yahoo.com (put MARBLES in the subject line). You will receive a digital download link from Blue Canoe Records. It's a musical thank you from David, Bridget and Blue Canoe Records (thank you, Joseph) to those who are thinking of and praying for Sam. 

Thank you for reading this blog, and thinking of and praying for Sam every day. 

Ups and Downs (Update for February 5, 2016)

I had a pretty good day at work. I went to a few meetings and laughed with friends a few times. Most of the day, I worked quietly in my office. My sweet co-worker, Julie, brought Valentine's candy to share, so I indulged ... twice. My boss was in a good mood. It felt like a pretty good day.

Bridget and Sam

Let me tell you about my 26-year-old son's day. He took his Tylenol and his salt pills. He had very little to drink because of the fluid restrictions. He took a shower, and he had to sit on a shower chair to do it. He carefully got dressed, put on his helmet and his non-skid socks and shoes and waited for his father to take him, and Bridget, to his doctor's appointment. At the doctor's office, they took lots of information about him, but then couldn't draw any blood to check his salt levels, because he was dehydrated from all the fluid restrictions.

That means in addition to his therapy on Monday, he has to go back to his PCP, after drinking half of his daily allotted fluid — per the PCP's direction — so he can hopefully have his blood drawn. Next week, he also has an appointment with an audiologist because he is having trouble hearing, and an appointment with his neurosurgeon to discuss salt, fluid and his next surgery. His ankle is still bothering him, bruised and aching but it is getting better.

Sam

So this weekend, Sam and Bridget will stay in, and focus on resting. They are a beautiful, mid-20s couple, who spend their days thinking about pills, pain, sleep, rest and his poor little injured head. They should be enjoying romantic evenings together, hanging out with friends, walking Weezy through the neighborhood ... just enjoying their young lives.

I'm so frustrated and sad. Bridget says Sam has "ups and downs, mostly ups." He should be UP all the time. He's a handsome, smart 26-year-old with a beautiful life! It's a gut check, knowing he has down moments. I feel like I had no right to one minute of joy today. I feel guilty for laughing and smiling even once. For every down moment my son has, the unfairness of it is tenfold. I know it should be OK for me to relax, but I don't want to when my son is injured.

Several people have said to me "I don't know how you do it" and "I don't know how you have returned to work." That hurts. I have a job that I love, and I want to keep it. But know that I'm not going to be sincerely happy again until my son is well. No matter what anyone thinks or how I am acting, my pain is real.

Between me and Bridget

Like Sam, I am having ups and downs (obviously), but today it's mostly downs. I'm sorry. Besides Dan and Molly, it's Bridget that keeps me sane.

But there is some news to be thankful for today, the Suds for Sam event at Saraveza Tavern and Bottle Shop in Portland raised $453. Thank you so much Kyle and the Packer Backers. A sweet blessing.

Thank you for reading my thoughts today. And thank you for praying for the healing of my son.

Brother and Sister (Update for February 4, 2016)

Today, I didn't send Sam an "I love you" text first thing this morning. Knowing it is two hours earlier there, and that I wanted him to sleep, I waited until 11:24 a.m. It was a long morning.

When I didn't hear from him, I waited until exactly 11:36 a.m. before I sent Bridget a text.

Molly and Sam

Then, at 12:55 p.m., I received a text from Bridget. They had just woke up. Sam had an uncomfortable night, with night sweats. They didn't sleep well. That means I got to worry all day. As if I wasn't before, now I am really looking forward to Sam's PCP visit tomorrow, to get his salt levels and an update on his meds.

Later I got another text from Bridget, excited because their new mattress topper arrived today. It's the little things to make Sam comfortable that Bridget worries about.

After Sam's doctor's appointment tomorrow, he will be home resting for the weekend. His PT, OT and speech therapy starts Monday. His father is leaving this weekend, and then, starting next week the "Sam Sitters" will be on hand to help Bridget. It will be good for Sam and her to get into their routine. We've decided that Molly will wait to go to Portland with me when I return. We both want to be there for Sam's next surgery.

Sam and Molly, always laughing

I'm fortunate to have two beautiful and brilliant children, and even more fortunate they have been life-long best friends. They share a love of music, movies and good literature. They both have a way with words, and majored in English. I don't remember them arguing much when they were children, instead they were always looking out for each other. When Sam feels like talking on the phone these days, it's only his sister's voice he wants to hear. No two people ever laugh more when they are together. I'm looking forward to hearing the laughter and seeing them together in a few weeks.

A few weeks looks like forever from here. I'm feeling disconnected and anxious, wanting to see my son, hear his voice and give him a hug or two. It's a helpless feeling, and Oregon seems so far away. I just take deep breaths.

Sam has always been active, athletic, so I know sitting quietly, worrying about his balance and being dizzy must be somewhat frustrating. When Sam was about 4 years old, I bought him a little basketball goal for $10 from a yard sale up the street. After that, he played basketball, in the living room by himself, about three hours every day. He would dribble and dunk, over and over again. As he got older, that little goal moved to his bedroom, and then dribble and dunk, dribble and dunk. Eventually, he was much taller than the goal, but it continued to be one of his prize possessions. When I was turning his room into a guest room, after he moved to Oregon, he said that the only thing he wanted to make sure I always kept was that little basketball goal (I might have kept a few more things ...). The goal is here, at his childhood home, waiting for him to take a few shots. Best $10 I ever spent.

Sam and Molly

My long-time friends and co-workers, Joy and Mark, brought a delicious dinner and goodies to Dan and I for dinner tonight. Besides the fact that we've worked at the same company for many years, Sam babysat their sons one summer, many years ago. Sam is great with kids, and the "guys" all enjoyed hanging out together. It's one of the many things I love about Little Rock; we're all connected in many ways, and my friends are constant. We didn't just meet, we don't barely know each other —we have roots here. We know each other's children, families and history. It's a special feeling, and Joy and Mark reminded me of that tonight.

Thank you again for getting to know my son, and reading this blog about his journey home.

Sleep (Update for February 3, 2016)

Fifteen days.

Sam resting at his home today. 

Sam spent his first night home in 15 days. It has been just 15 days, but it seems like a lifetime. He's come so far since his life-changing injury, but he has a long way to go. I know he can do it. So how has he felt since his first night home? Happy and sleepy. He was very, very tired when he came home, and he has slept A LOT. No one can ever get a full night’s sleep in the hospital. That’s no one’s fault, it's just the way it is. His brain needs rest, and for the first time in 15 days, he got to sleep, not medically induced, but real sleep that his mind needs.

I feel about sleep the same way I feel about salt. It's important to my son's recovery, and I want him to have as much of it as possible. 

He's still dizzy. It's worrisome but expected. 

Bridget is now in the process of scheduling his therapies, appointments and taking care of whatever it is that Sam needs. Besides taking on the role of Sam's caregiver, she has taken on the responsibility of keeping this mom updated. That’s not an easy task, but because she and I have a “mind meld” and the same end-goal, Sam’s complete healing, she knows what I need. She has sent me pictures and texts each day, throughout the day. She’s made sure both Sam and I are comfortable. I anxiously await her every text and phone call, and she doesn’t disappoint. Today, she bought him a pill case, and she was excited because it was colorful and helpful. It made me sad, but it put Bridget at ease. Her attitude is everything. She said he has told her that he wants to work hard in therapy. Each day, my heart is hurting because it's all so unfair, but also healing because he is on the mend. I'm grateful for each day of progress.

Me and Sam

The unfair, senselessness of it all continues to overwhelm me. If I think about it too much or too long, tears spill out. I try to focus on Sam's healing, and not what happened to him. But it's so hard. His life is changed forever; he has lost so much. What happened to Sam is not his fault. It’s never the victim’s fault. Never. If someone feels the need to hurt or bully someone because they are different, or believe differently, or because of the clothes they wear, then shame on them. 

I returned to my office today, and my co-workers were so sweet, and gentle. They are usually comical, and a maybe little loud, so the love and the solitude was all for me today. I appreciate their sensitivity. I have felt very broken, but I only cried once today at work … when my good friend Linda came by to see and comfort me. 

Goodies from Becky

My friends are the best. They have made me feel so loved. Tonight, my friend Becky, brought Dan and I dinner. It just tasted better, knowing she made it from the heart. 

Sam's grandpa (my stepdad) and Sam

I've been thoughtless. I have to mention, and thank, my parents for what they have done for Sam. My mom and stepdad have wanted to come to Portland SO BAD, but my stepfather is ill, so it’s not possible. They bought Sam a recliner to make him comfortable and have left me messages continuously. And, I want to thank my dad and stepmom, who have donated generously to the GoFundMe campaign, and who have also cried with me numerous times these past few weeks. 

And to you, thank you for reading and thinking of my son. 

Discharge (Update for February 2, 2016)

"Tare care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them."

That's a quote from Bob Dylan, both Sam and Molly's favorite poet and musician. I like this quote particularly because I've spent lots of time shifting through sweet or funny memories of my son these past few weeks. 

Sam, Jaxon and Jason (my brother, Jaxon's dad)

Jaxon, Sam and Scott (my brother)

In the summer of 2013, Molly, Dan, Sam and I went to Montana to visit my father, stepmom, brothers and their families. Sam's little cousin, Jaxon, was enamored with Sam, drawn to him. Sam wrestled with, played with him, teased him, and Jaxon loved it. Here are some photos to prove my point ... wherever Sam was, there was Jaxon. I love the memory of that wonderful trip to Montana. 

Now, all the good news. Prayers answered.

Molly, Sam, Celia, Emma and Jaxon. 

When I received Sam's therapy schedule for today, per Bridget, it said: 2:30 Discharge. DISCHARGE. I am beyond happy that Sam will continue his therapy as an OUTPATIENT! He's made miraculous progress as he continues his journey to complete recovery.

At the conference today, the doctors and therapists said he would continue some of his meds, most importantly the salt pills, and he still has the fluid restrictions. He will take Tylenol for pain, no aspirin. He also will have weekly visits with a primary care physician, therapists and, in a few weeks, his neurosurgeon to check his brain swelling and, hopefully, schedule his next surgery. He has to keep his helmet on, almost all the time, and be very careful. His dad just texted and said he had been dizzy today, and was sleeping at this time. 

I am thrilled he is going to be home to continue his therapy although he has so much more to face (another surgery and recovery, continuous therapy, ongoing medications, etc.), so me being a mom and all, I sent Bridget about 32 texts worth of instructions and things to think about. She is calm and confident, and texted me back "I know you're worried. It's all going to be OK. They're preparing us well."

She's right of course. I am trusting her with my son's life, and I do. Completely. But I am still a mom. and I'm doing what moms do, worrying myself sick. I worried myself right into a migraine this morning, so I spent all afternoon medicating and resting.

His being home brings a whole new set of worries mostly related to stairs and showers (he has a shower chair), sodium and swelling, and just basically his entire future. But, again, it's what I do as a mom. It's the job that never ends.

Jaxon, hanging on. 

I really appreciate everyone who is telling me I'm a good, loving mom. I hope I am. But the reality is I am not doing or being anything different than any mom would do or be. And, I'm not perfect. I've made my share of mistakes, and I always tell my kids that I'm not perfect, I am just an imperfect person trying to love them the most that I can, the best that I know how. I know lots of amazing moms (and dads and stepparents)), and I learn from them all the time. When my kids were little, and I was feeling overwhelmed, my cousin Robin said to me, "This is the easy part. You have some control now. It won't always be this way." She was right of course. It never gets easier. You never quit worrying. You never get another decent night's sleep in your life. Because ... you can't protect them from everything or watch them every single second. I'm a realist so I accept that. Because of that, my goal always was to raise independent thinkers, willing to live their own lives and find their own way. If your children are grown and happily living on their own, congratulations .... you just won at parenting. That's how I see it anyway. 

I continue to get questions from friends, family and GoFundMe donors, and I will answer a few of those below. I am amazed at how much everyone cares about me and my family. I guess I just never knew. I'm humbled. 

Jaxon, Sam, Dan and Molly

Have the Portland Police Department identified the persons of interest in the photo? Yes. I do not know anything else about them, and the police investigation is ongoing.

Will you be returning to Portland? Yes. When my son's next surgery is scheduled, I will go to Portland a few days in advance and stay while he recovers and is in the hospital again.

Will you be attending any of the upcoming fundraisers? Unfortunately, probably not. Bridget will be attending as she can to represent our families.

Does Bridget have a support system in Portland to help her when she returns to class and fulfills other obligations? Yes, she has a group of their friends and her family she's calling the "Sam Sitters" to help her.

Does Sam seem like himself? Yes, more and more every day.

What about Sam's motor skills? They are excellent, although he is dizzy occasionally and has to worry about balance.

How is Molly? So many people have asked about my sweet daughter. She is strong, and very independent. She has her own health issue, but she never complains and continues to live her life as she chooses. I'm proud of her. 

Will Sam participate in any media interviews? No, he's not ready to have any visitors at all except close friends and family. We are asking that the media respect his privacy as he recovers.

I want to thank my co-workers and friends Trey, Matthew and Damona for coming to our home tonight, listening to me, and bringing me and Dan dinner. I appreciate that they are encouraging me to ease back into my normal routine and covering me every day at work. 

Thank you for all your prayers and good thoughts. Prayers were answered today, as I wanted Sam desperately to leave the hospital. As much as I am grateful for the love and care he has been shown by the wonderful nurses, therapists and doctors ... hospitals can be depressing.

I can say today, that I am feeling some sense of peace, and I can see the light at the end of this miserable tunnel.