Sunday, February 7, 2016

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. 

Saturday, February 6, 2016

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. 

Friday, February 5, 2016

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.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

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.


Wednesday, February 3, 2016

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. 






Tuesday, February 2, 2016

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. 




Monday, February 1, 2016

Sodium, Staples and Swelling (Update for February 1, 2016)

Sodium at 139!!!

That's the text I received from Bridget this morning. That damn salt. What I had always thought I had understood — based on food marketing selling low-sodium foods and from media reports touting low-sodium diets — as well as my own ignorance, is that salt was bad. I never realized the importance of salt to your overall health. I guess I never cared. Now, we all hold our breath each morning waiting for the report on his sodium levels. And, today it was good news. We believe it is because he is now eating, and doesn't have to rely on all of his salt to come from salt tablets.

Monday's scheduled therapies.
Sam had a great day in therapy yesterday. The more he can do, the more they expect him to do. Tomorrow, we will have their weekly team meeting between all of Sam's doctors, therapists, the hospital discharge planner, and nurses ... and I will be able to conference into that call, and participate in the planning for his therapy going forward. I except to hear very good news tomorrow.

Weezy, Sam and Bridget's dog, got to make a visit to the hospital (outdoor area) yesterday so Sam could see her. Weezy was happy, but Sam might have been happier. Bridget sent me a few pictures, and Sam is smiling, sitting in a wheelchair with his helmet on, smiling.

But about today, he had a busy day in therapy today, and it went EXCEPTIONALLY well. He did 15 minutes pedaling on an exercise bicycle. He even made eggs and toast. And, according to his dad Danny Whitehorn, his attitude is excellent; he wants to go home. Then tonight, they removed the 55 staples from his head. Bridget said she held his hand, and the nurse was quick, so not much pain compared to what he has been through.

I sent Sam a text first thing this morning, telling him I missed him and I loved him (I think I might have sent him about four similar texts yesterday). He responded with, "OK woman," which is how he always responds to me when he is irritated or annoyed with me. He would never be mean, or get mad at me, he just resorts to jokingly calling me "woman" instead of "mom." It's so good to know his personality is coming back.

Sam has an appointment scheduled for his next CT scan, to see how the brain swelling is receding. We are anxious for the results, so his next surgery can be scheduled. Bridget will be taking him to all of his appointments and therapies as long as they are needed.

Sam and Bridget. One of my favorite pictures.
Bridget is putting aside her job and music aspirations to care for Sam. It's the greatest gift I have ever been given. She will be his caregiver, his transportation, his pharmacist, his spokesperson, his trainer, his friend and his future. I know Sam would do the same for her if the situation were reversed. He asked me before, "Do you love Bridget? Do you?" I said, of course I did, she was so sweet and easy-going. And he said, "I hope so. We really love each other, and we are going to be together forever." I told him I believed it, and I was happy for him. I don't doubt it at all today. There are not many relationships that can survive tragedy, or unexpected stress. I think this one can.

Sam, Molly and their dad at Crystal Bridges Museum. 
One of the reasons Sam is so loved by Bridget, and many others, is because of his quick wit and perfect comedic timing. On Sam's first day of kindergarten, I got laid off of my job at a local hospital. That meant I got to be stay-at-home mom for a few months. I picked Sam up from school every day with the other moms, and that is where I met my dear friend Tricia. We both had children the exact same ages. She came by to see me today (much love to her), and reminded me of a story that illustrates Sam's sense of humor. When he was in 10th grade, and at a honors assembly at his high school, each of the students being recognized had to step up to the microphone and say their name. He went to a huge high school, there were several hundred students being recognized AND his last name starts with a W. You can imagine how tiring it was for those watching and participating. When it was Sam's turn, he said, "I'm Sam I Am." The school administrators may not have liked it, but it sent laughter through the crowd. It woke everyone up.

My brother, Kirk, and his wife, Tonya, came by tonight to visit with me and Dan. Kirk and I are the emotional kids in the family, and we don't miss a chance to cry together. It's soothing for me to be with my brother and Tonya, to laugh and cry a little, and to provide support to each other that everything is going to be OK. We are a strong family.

My sweet babies. 
I am fortunate to have an understanding employer and boss (thanks Eric). Although I know I need to ease back into my new normal and my job, I'm afraid. I'm not even sure what I'm afraid of anymore ... just so much fear for my children's health. I feel like I'm in a high state of anxiety all the time. Both of my children now suffer with brain issues, my daughter with epilepsy of unknown cause and my son with this traumatic brain injury. My daughter was hospitalized three times in the last few years. I have to remember to take one day at a time, and as each day passes with good news and good health, it's just another win.

My friend Tricia suggested I tell everyone our good thoughts and prayer needs:
For Sam: Sodium levels UP and brain swelling DOWN.
For Bridget: Strength
For me, Molly, Dan and our entire family: Peace and understanding

Thank you again for everything, especially if you are reading this blog and thinking of my sweet son.