Updates on Bridget's Condition

The Last Post

This will be my last update on Bridget's condition. She is doing very well and there is simply not any news to report. There are still long term effects of the injury but progress is steady and slow enough to warrant bringing this bitter yet triumphant chapter of lives to an end. She may wish to opine from time to time but for all intents and purposes, I shall not.

That is also not to say that you should not stop checking this space for information in general including a book that I eventually intend to publish about this God awful mess that was thrust upon us. And yes, I will name names.

This has been a busy summer, for that matter a very busy year. After traveling to New Orleans in January for the last surgery we have been on the move constantly it seems. Most of our efforts have been going toward trying to live well. We have visited with family and friends. We have had many a good belly laugh at all things righteous and profane. We have also cried many a tear of anger but mostly joy.

I came to the conclusion to call this the last post the other day while we were returning from a short vacation in New York State after visiting close friends in Ohio. We were crossing the Missouri savannah on our motorcycle. The sun was setting in such a brilliant way that it appeared positively floral. In the stunning twilight I reflected that we have spent the better part of this spring and summer chasing happiness and peace. We have ridden our motorcycle basically from one end of the country to the other. We have suffered through blazing hot head winds in the New Mexican desert and freezing rain in the high county of Colorado (and New York, by the way). With every minor adversity we have come away feeling that much more cleansed. We have done what we came to do; seize and secure the life that was almost stolen from us. We have happiness and peace.

We also have our memories. First, victory and triumph over the bad times. Through the context of success, our darkest hours were our finest hours. Next, the assistance, support and love of our friends. There is simply no way I can repay the devotion of the many that suffered and overcame with us.

I remember the times where I thought I may never be happy again.

I remember the times where I thought I may never be this happy again.

I remember that it was cold, the kind of cold that is scattered by a wind with no mercy. The sky was not blue or gray, it was white. The patches of ice along the ground were like the unhealed scars all through the middle of her body. We walked maybe 50 yards until she could go no further. We sat on a log and she began to cry, not just tears of lament, but tears of a dying woman. She said, "I am going to die. I'm just going to keep getting worse until they finally kill me". I said no emphatically, but I remember thinking that I may have just told the biggest lie of my life.

I remember that it was hot. The sky was the kind of blue that lives only in fairy tales. We sat on a park bench on the south rim of the Grand Canyon drinking a beer in a paper bag. We talked of where we would spend the night. There were still hours and hours of daylight left so we decided to test our fortunes and continue on.

I pointed out to her the contrast of those bitter times 15 months earlier. There was a laugh, and a sigh. We got back on the Electra-Glide and headed east into the desert.

Hello everyone. Bob has not posted here for a number of months - as it seems our ordeal has finally passed. For those of you who checked this site faithfully, I cannot thank you enough. The amount of good wishes and thoughts I have experienced has really overwhelmed me. I never knew so many people were out there that cared about me. What a warm, enveloping blanket I have experienced!

Tonight I just wanted to share some of my thoughts with you.

This whole thing hit us out of the blue. No one ever expects this to happen to them. These horror stories always happen to someone else - and we experience them from afar. (Thank God!) When it does happen to you, it started in motion a train of thoughts that I never thought I would travel.

I have spent many months wondering why God decided to save me. It seemed to me that there must be a profound reason for me to remain on this earth. Knowing my God as I do, I knew the answer would not come to me with flashing lights and billboard sized letters. I was going to have to figure this out for myself (my beloved pastor, Harry, helped me realize this.) Well I think I have.

At first I thought there must be some really big thing that I was destined to do. God did not take me then as I had not accomplished this terrific thing yet. But the more I contemplated this, the more I realized that this was not the case. I started thinking about the movie "Oh, God" where when "God" was on the witness stand in court, he bemoaned the fact that everyone thought anything connected to Him had to be a miracle. This disappointed Him. It finally occurred to me that God did not decide to "save" me because of some great thing. Perhaps he saved me for all the little things that I could do from now on ---

A smile for a stranger.
A comforting pat for someone sad.
An encouraging word.
A note in the mail.
Actually listening.
More tolerance.
Patience.

It did not have to be some big, huge thing. It was a lot of little things that add up over time. I am embarrassed that it took a life threatening situation for me to realize that being a more thoughtful person was essential to my own happiness. With a tiny bit of effort, I could actually make someone's life better. And by doing this, it will enrich my own life.

I will do my best to never take anything for granted anymore. Please, I beg all of you who read this, DO NOT wait for something like this to happen to you before you see that by being a better person now, YOUR life will be better from now on.

A quote I came across helped me immensely with my feelings of "Why me?" I believe it can help many I know who have been involved in terrible situations ---

"Sometimes God calms the storm -- but more often He allows the storm to rage, and calms His child."

I treasure each and every one of you who prayed for me and my family during this ordeal. Your prayers were heard. You are what kept us going. Often I think that as God listens to our prayers, He is doing what this quote says. He is not necessarily changing things for us, He is giving us the strength to deal with what is happening.

I will endeavor now to make everyone I know feel as special as you have made me feel. This is what I feel God has asked me to do, and it's enough. No lightening bolts - no raging rivers - just do my best to be a better person to those around me. This is my task, and I am up for it!

So please, I thank you, from the depths of my heart, for all of your prayers and support. I am really doing great! I am not 100% yet, but I will get there. I have lots of little things I need to do for God!

My very best to all of you ---

Bridget

Shortly after our oldest son started driving he accidentally ran over a small dog. It was a toy poodle, fluffy dust mop type of dog. Naturally this rattled him and he brought the dog home to see if there was something I could do. The dog appeared to be severely injured. It was bleeding from its mouth and nose and although its eye's were open, alert and in distress, the poor thing could not move. It was late at night, he had no collar and it appeared as if his life was slowly ebbing away.

The kids were still essentially kids then and they looked to me to do something. Although I tried to convey to them that things looked grim I didn't tell them that I was trying to think of a humane and effective way to euthanize this unfortunate animal. In the end I realized that I didn't have the heart to lay hands upon the dog in such a brutal way and a rifle shot that late a night in my backyard would make me truly a bad neighbor.

So we fashioned a little bed in a cutaway cardboard box and covered him with a small towel to keep him warm. We put a small bowl of water in front of him and cleaned him up as we tried to give him as much comfort as we could. In the end we wound up going to bed assuming that he had a broken neck and other acute injuries. By morning we would know.

The next morning there appeared to be little change. Although he was awake, he was unable to move. He looked at me with those tortured, frightened poodle eyes and I knew at that point I had to be more decisive. It seemed that not putting him down was now the cruel alternative. I went back into the house to mull this over and to find our local vet's number. The process of mulling led me back out to the garage one final time to check on the dog.

The dog was gone. I walked to the front of my house just in time to stare with astonishment as this creature, who minutes ago was apparently on death's door, saunter up the street and over the hill. We followed him at a safe distance and sure enough, he made his way home a couple of streets over.

Every now and then I see my neighbor walking her little Lazarus poodle, I smile and wave.

Bridget (myself, our whole family in fact) feel as if we are awakening from the deep trench of a sort of hysterical paralysis to find that we are fully intact and good to go. Easter Sunday is a good day to feel this way.

In 1992 Stella Liebeck, 78, of Albuquerque, New Mexico was severely burned by a cup of McDonald’s coffee. In the subsequent lawsuit she was awarded $2.7 million even though the jury decided she was partially culpable. This lawsuit was the first lightening rod case where the public started adding words to its lexicon like “frivolous lawsuit” and “runaway jury”. Since then most people have become well aware of such things as the burglar who was able to successfully sue his victim, the angel dust user who was able to sue the police department for excessive force, the drunk who fell off of a ladder and then sued the manufacturer. All of these examples, and more created a new complexity in our society on many different levels.

One level was that individuals and groups saw the lawsuit as a means to “get paid” using the letter of the law to achieve what ethics and morals could not. The mindset behind this new approach of acquiring wealth is the concept that since we are all sinners we must be also all be vulnerable to legal recourse. The question left to those legal thrill seekers in this upside down culture of ours is not whether to sue, but why not sue. Of course many of those stalwart champions of justice, lawyers, were and are only too happy to campaign for these new found victims at a modest 40% contingency rate.

Another level was the subsequent backlash that this culture of victim hood generated and how easily it could be manipulated. Politicians and corporations constantly sang a steady song as to how all this litigation was costing our nation untold billions of dollars and how it was “hurting the children”. Indeed we reserve special anger whenever we hear news of someone suing and settling out of court for 2 million dollars over infected hangnails or perceived racial insults. We as a society “want something done” about these parasitic freeloaders who have manipulated the system for ill gotten gain.

In spring of 2005 Governor Blunt signed into law House Bill 393. It is the nebulous and wonderful “Tort Reform Bill”. In its provisions supposedly lay the solutions to the problem of the undeserving in our state not being able to sue their way to unwarranted riches. Indeed similar legislation has been passed by most states now. But what are the facts?

Missouri house bill 393 limits the award for pain and suffering to $350,000 and (more importantly) limits the time you have to bring a lawsuit to court to just 2 years. A bill before the U.S. Congress right now would reduce that dollar figure even lower making a nationwide cap of $250,000. On the surface this appears to be more than enough money and time for personal injury plaintiffs, but look closer at what is being done.

The people (lawyers) who wrote this law know that your average person has to have a lawyer to file a medical malpractice lawsuit. They also know about how much labor goes into that lawsuit. They know that to formulate a proper case takes money. How much? Figures vary but it is not uncommon for a medical malpractice lawsuit to cost upwards of $200,000 in man hours (remember lawyers get paid a lot of money). That doesn’t include expenses which come out of the plaintiffs pile. You also have to have a doctor to agree to testify also and the last time I checked they don’t come cheap either.

So by cleverly playing on the publics need to “do something about this crisis” the legislature has effectively made it unprofitable for attorneys to even mess with medical malpractice cases unless it is a slam dunk like a doctor performing while on crack. Plus, with no shortage of DUI’s and $15,000 life destroying divorce cases the legal industry is still not laying off any lawyers.

But MOST IMPORTANTLY does house bill 393 limit or significantly change frivolous lawsuits in any other area besides medical malpractice? Does it limit the amount you can collect for not having the right flavor of pudding on hand in schools and prisons? Harassment? Offensive language and behavior? The answer is no. It puts no limits on stupidity, just injury.

So, who or whom does this new law help? We were told that unless reform was passed doctors would have to leave their practices. We were told that reform would bring us lower health care costs. Has anybody seen a reduction in their health care cost? Didn’t think so. The answer is that it doesn’t help and protect doctors, medical staff and their patients as much as it protects that most vulnerable of victims, large corporate financial institutions in the form of the insurance industry. You got it, it protects those that already have obscene amounts of wealth already.

We lose sight of the fact that, reform or no reform, the medical malpractice system has only a modest direct cost burden on the medical services industry. In recent years, the national total of medical malpractice premiums has been less than one percent of total personal health care expenditures. As a consumer I feel that that is a small price to pay for knowing that my family can seek legal recourse. But since I’ve pointed out to you that that is now virtually impossible, where does that money go? Well, the answer is simple, nowhere. It stays right in the insurance industry’s larder.

I take that back, the insurance industry sends that money back out into the community in the form of political contributions to lawmakers at an astounding rate. According to the Center for Responsive Politics (opensecrets.org) nationally, and as an industry they rank as 7th in total political campaign giving. Over a 10 year period the industry gave $282,828,340 to candidates on the state and federal level. Is it any wonder that we now have legislation protecting their profits?

You need to ask yourself, what is the real problem? Medical malpractice. If we had better doctors we wouldn’t need better lawyers. No one seems to embrace the obvious though. The government’s solution is predictable; protect the wealthy contributors and people, that ain’t you. I liken it to the scenario that if your horse gets out of the barn burn down the barn to keep it from happening again.

Think of it this way. If I was to cause a traffic accident with the doctor that injured my wife and injured him and damaged his property I could use my state required insurance to make him whole. Indeed, I would feel relieved that I was able to relieve his suffering due to my mistake. In the world we live in now because he’s a doctor, wealthier and has a huge and powerful industry behind him he’s under no legal or moral responsibility to pay for his mistakes. Of course he’ll argue that that is what his med mal premiums go to but as I’ve pointed out those funds will only be disbursed to politicians.

I know that I’m taking a chance in writing this here. Bridget was injured, scarred and almost killed by a doctor’s careless mistake. Her life is now going to be harder because of that mistake. As a by and large Christian culture we view his tragic mistake primarily through the lens of forgiveness. I saw with my own eyes how tortured and heartbroken this man was by a moment’s accidental indiscretion. But, we don’t cut off his hands. We don’t sell his daughter into slavery We say that as long as he makes amends, he is forgiven. THAT used to be our credo. But now our leaders and our governments have cleverly taken away our ability to seek redress and by law those who possess vast sums of wealth are exempt from making amends. That process of basic Christian forgiveness which we hold dear to our basic fiber has now has a link torn from it. Is it any wonder our society is now so coarse and damaged?

By the way, Stella Liebeck, of Albuquerque, New Mexico received third degree burns on her inner thighs, perineum, buttocks, and genital and groin areas. She was hospitalized for eight days, during which time she underwent skin grafting. Liebeck, sought to settle her claim for $20,000, but McDonald’s refused. It was discovered during the case that based on a consultants advice, it held its coffee at between 180 and 190 degrees Fahrenheit to maintain optimum taste. The consultant admitted that he had not evaluated the safety ramifications at this temperature. Other establishments sell coffee at substantially lower temperatures, and coffee served at home is generally 135 to 140 degrees. Things aren’t always what they seem.

In writing this I offer no solutions although I seek them desperately. I know of no answer to this morass that we’re in. In telling you, the reader this I humbly ask for your ideas. Ideas, concepts, standards, that’s what we as a people used to be about. All I ask is that you tell other people what you’ve read here today and spread the word both far and wide. I pray that it has armed you with the will and courage to stand for something. IF the way of life in this beautiful country of ours is NOT about defending those that are trod upon, then I wish no part of it. I sincerely hope that you feel the same way.

Yesterday Bridget had an appointment with her surgeon here in town, Dr. Oza. As expected all appears well. According to him most all of the issues are resolving nicely. At this point his contention is that all of the tissues have or most likely will knit together properly and medically speaking she has turned another page.

There are still plenty of residual problems such as limited mobility, fatigue, pain and discomfort but they are slowly fading. Slow appears to be the operative here. Some days look as if there’s no progress but there is. You just have to look closely. We have been going to the park daily for short walks however 6 inches of snow on the ground puts a damper on happy time.

There is still much work to be done. Yes, we are free from danger but recovery from all of this appears to be the hardest work of all. Bridget has lost a lot of weight which I know some people (myself especially) would be envious of. The fact is she didn’t have any to lose. Since she’s the most finicky eater I’ve ever met (again personal envy) restoration to her former self will be a long term route.

It’s been 14 months people. We are crawling out of the abyss and into the sunshine. I am amazed at all that’s gone on in our absence. I am starting to mull over many things. One of my guilty pleasures is imagining life without the narrow filter of Bridget’s illness (which by the way was inflicted, not acquired).

As of today it has been three weeks since the operation. From where we stand right now the defining question is, "are things getting better?" The answer is yes, but there are many times where I feel we have asked ourselves if it was worth it. At times it is not pleasant. It is obvious that we are victims of our own overestimations.

One of those overestimations was that she could come off of pain medication completely by now. Not so. She is not by any means dependent on pain killers but we do have to modestly stay ahead of the discomfort.

Bridget talks to several wonderful people online who have been through very similar (or worst, believe it or not) situations. Although I have much empathy for their plight I am glad to know that what Bridget is experiencing is not out of the ordinary for this type of procedure. I am thankful that others have gone before us to act as a guidepost.

Although the doctor has stated that she will be recovered from the operation in 6 to 8 weeks, many (including doctors) are telling us that real normalcy takes a long time. Most say that 3 to 4 months is a good time frame to expect the situation to stabilize. That would be summertime, surf's up.

Bridget had an appointment yesterday with her surgeon here in town, Dr. Oza. We gave him the rundown on how things have been going for the last two weeks. After his examination he was able to state confidently that Bridget appears to be “over the hump”. He went on to say that if she were going to have any significant problems they would most likely manifested themselves in the first two weeks. We are going to return in two more weeks and at that time I’m sure we’ll be able to have even more conclusive pronouncements.

From afar I’m sure things are looking good. There is simply no way for me to put a bad spin on things. Still, the misery factor is still with us in many ways. Each day it seems to soften a little though. It is probably not too early to start using phrases like “the beginning of the end”.

I have had people read the account of Bridget’s illness and tell me that they flinch from the experience that she has had to go through. I tell them that in fact I haven’t been able to accurately relay one tenth (one percent?) of the actual experience. Minimally, I haven’t found a way to describe the misery, the agony and the untidy pain that Bridget has had to bear. People that have been tortured this much die. I challenge the strongest, most willful man to suffer one day of what Bridget has been suffering for almost 14 months. They just couldn’t do it.

I don’t think that there are many people born to this world who have sinned great enough to deserve the pain she has been forced to endure. I guess that I don’t fear eternity for Bridget like I would for myself or others. When you look upon her, study her closely for she is a rarity on many levels. The most profound level is that she is one of those rare human beings that I feel has paid for all of her sins in her own lifetime.

Bridget and I had never been to New Orleans before. I know a multitude of people who have and they usually all have a vivid portrait to paint. Unfortunately New Orleans is ripe for unfair ridicule. It would seem like shooting fish in a barrel. Because this entire region was victim to the greatest disaster ever known to America, the line is easily blurred as to what can be laid on their doorstep.

Members of our family are acutely aware of how a disaster creates a line of demarcation. The people of New Orleans seem to have a similar scar that runs through their soul. Everyone speaks in terms of what it was like before and what it was like after. Hurricane Katrina sometimes seems to be the fountain of all things. It is the subject of nightmares and jokes. It is almost as if it is cautiously referred to like an angry god of old mythology.

I heard it stated before that New Orleans is dirty. I don’t think it is dirtier than any other city however on some level it almost appears dirty by design. There are many large American cities that are dirty and if that was the prime condemning criteria we’d have to bulldoze the whole lot. The unkempt appearance of some cities appears to be the net result of a lack of civic pride. New Orleans’ grime almost seems to be an outpouring of that same civic pride. Many large metropolitan areas have that faint dead animal smell accompanied by a similar patina. New Orleans has the generalized smell of sweetly spoiled beer, somewhat foul yet driven by the best intentions of misguided human passions.

The hospital that we stayed at, Ochsner Medical is located at Jefferson Highway and Deckbar Road. Across the street from the hospital is a bar called “The Deck Bar”. Featured entertainment on Saturday night is the “Big Daddy Blues Jam”. The Deck Bar is painted a fluorescent green. It is noteworthy that New Orleans seems to have no shortage of hot pink paint. There also seems to be a surplus of day-glo orange, vivid purple and other colors that we up “nawth” use to denote danger or hunters in the field.

The richness and irony of New Orleans is often very thick. It is home to the hospital named in honor of Doctor Ochsner. I believe he is the man who determined that cigarette smoking caused cancer and killed you. It is also the home of Doctor John, the man who determined that cigarette smoking while playing blues piano is totally cool.

Lining the block downtown near the Parrish courthouse are bail bondsmen with the coolest names like Free Me Bail Bonds, 1-800-NOT-GUILTY and Didn’t Do It Bail Bonds. I wasn’t there long enough to decide whether or not NOLA lives up to its reputation of gross criminality (I had zero problems) but it is comforting to know that they can approach it with a brazen humor.

Ochsner Med is located right on the Mississippi River. It is nestled between Jefferson Highway and River Road. River Road follows the levee very closely. Everyday that we were there I would go up on the levee and walk the paved path for enjoyment and exercise. As I walked, I would watch tug boats, barges and large ships go by. I have a pretty good eye for sizing up distances and spaces. One day as I was walking, I decided to try and actually put numbers to these things. From the top of the levee, River Road was approximately 100 yards away and 25 feet below me. The river itself was approximately 150 yards away and no more than 22 feet below me. The whole place should be underwater. In fact, if there’s heavy dew overnight it seems that water stands on the roads.

Bridget’s room was on the 9th floor. We would look out on a vast expanse of what was probably the busiest port in the world. Ships from all over the world would pass underneath our window. Some were heavily laden and riding low in the water. Many appeared to be lumbering giants until you look closer and notice that they are zipping up and down the river like they own it (comments about the Corps of Engineers not withstanding).

The city itself is laid out such that it makes it easy to get around. There are 5 o’clock traffic jams but it doesn’t seem that you get stuck there very long. As I was enjoying this relatively light traffic it occurred to me that there used to be about a million people on these roads. That number has about been cut in half since 2005. Every city traffic planner at some point probably wishes for fewer people. Be careful what you wish for.

On one particular day they were expecting a big storm out of the gulf and tides and winds were expected to be up. Everyone seemed excited, almost giddy. I remember that I saw on “World’s Wildest Videos” a clip of a guy standing on the shoulder of a road next to a broken down car. The road is rain slicked and he looks up just in time to narrowly avoid a car spinning out of control. He quickly jumps to safety. During the slow motion replay you can see clearly in the aftermath that he’s got a huge grin on his face and he’s laughing after almost being turned into hamburger. Nowadays in New Orleans, bad weather seems to put a nervous smile on everyone’s face.

Sadly, in September of 2005, it appears that the national media specifically and purposely showed the most divisive image they could. It is as if they found easily manipulated fissures in society and sought to drive a wedge in them. The indelible images that the media left of the people of New Orleans were that of welfare infected looters. I must admit that I saw the television and felt anger and revulsion toward them. After being here, “boots on the ground”, I realize that I was wrong. You could take any city in the world, let alone the United States, destroy it and watch as desperate souls cling to any flotsam and jetsam of hope and life. It is cruel sport to say that New Orleans would be any different.

The truth is that New Orleans has got to be one of the busiest, most industrialized places on earth. Everybody thinks that “Big Easy” means things progress at a third world speed. If indeed New Orleanians move at a slower pace I believe it is probably because they have been hard at it since dawn. They should be resting. Instead they are still at it, moving a little slower so they can complete the job. At the end of the day, let them have their party.

Today is an easy day. Nothing in particular needs doing and it is a good day to sit on the couch and heal. Bridget seems to be handling all of her levels of discomfort well. It is probably a good day to sit and think of better, warmer days to come. Even I can't seem to get motivated. Tomorrow seems like a good day to make big plans, not today.

We are home. We arrived 24 hours to the minute after we left New Orleans. I was unable to post for the last couple of days. I liken it to a spaceship returning to earth. As it passes through the ionosphere there is radio silence and the crew is incommunicado. I'm happy to say that the parachutes are fully deployed and we are reading you 5 by 5.

We spent the night on the road and rode the rest of the way this morning. Bridget is doing well. Her pain is manageable and she is looking forward to her own bed. As of right now there appears to be no significant medical issues. She has an appointment with her regular surgeon on Wednesday. She is looking at about 6 to 8 more weeks of convalescence.

This is the roughest trip we've ever been on. The last 2 weeks have been almost unbearable at times. We are beaten, battered and broke but we are happy, very happy.