Move over Nemo…

I feel good!

Not great, but good. —Nick Fener

I haven’t heard him say anything like this in weeks! He had a chance to loosen up today and move his body more in one hour than in the last three weeks combined.

That’s right, he finally got to swim again! Swimming outside on a beautiful day made a huge positive impact on him physically and mentally. A little vitamin D, and a lot of gravity-free movement turned today into a fabulous today.

This morning I looked under the bandage on his back and decided it was healed enough to swim. Once in the pool, we swam lap after lap, in every which direction, dodging children left and right. He didn’t stop the whole time – making large, fluid kicks with his water legs, which is normally difficult for him.

I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be sore tomorrow.

Fun re-blog: India, you’re incredible!

Exactly ten years ago, in 2002, I had the incredible opportunity to experience India for over 5 weeks. I traveled by land westward from Calcutta across the northern part of the country. I made it all the way to the Pakistani border town of Jaisalmer in Rajasthan, up to the northern town of Dharamsala where the Dalai Lama now lives, and visited Varanasi, Delhi, Agra, New Delhi, Jaipur, and the remote countryside on the way. I call it “experiential education” rather than tourism. I stayed with families, did lots of volunteer work, and ate my weight in Thali, lassi’s, and dates. That trip has forever changed the way I see the world, myself, and life.

Unfortunately my 4 &1/2 month trip through South East Asia was before Facebook, blogging, digital cameras (for me anyway), and iPhones. I kept a daily private journal, an emotion driven art book, and took over 40 rolls of film, but have yet to organize or share any of it.

For years I wanted Nick to experience India as well, and we finally had a trip planned for last December. Of course it never happened because he got hurt, and now I question whether he will ever be able to safely and comfortably travel in such intense conditions. This recurring thought has brought me great sadness over the last year, but deep down I know he will be capable of anything he puts his mind to. We might just have to modify it a little, that’s all.

I share all this, because today I found this killer blog post from a complete stranger who just spent a month in India. This persons words perfectly paint the picture of India and how it bombards your five senses. The descriptions are spot on and I felt like I was there again in the magical land of chaos and beauty.

Please enjoy! I know I did.

India, you’re incredible!.

 

Brainstorming about life

Nick is far from physically healed, but psychologically he is ready to move on. The last few days he’s been talking a lot about his next endeavor, or his next project; what he wants to do for a living.

Folks, you have no idea what this means! He hasn’t spoke much at all about this since his injury. We’ve both had a one track mind: get Nick healthy again. In fact, we hardly have any idea what our future is going to look like. I just know it’s going to be bad ass! That’s for sure.

So to have him thinking clearly and brainstorming and searching for his next project is thrilling to me. Maybe it’s time to move on from this painful phase of life. Maybe, just maybe.

Nick’s meditation wisdom for the day

“Today and everyday I find simple ways to give to everyone I meet.” – the Centering Thought for the day, source unknown.

 

I’m grateful Nick took the time to share part of his daily meditation with me today. He’s been incredibly diligent in keeping up with the program. I know it’s helping him get through this healing process. Meditating daily is keeping him calm, centered, and allowing him to relax deep to the core. I’m proud of him for seeking this mediation series, and for being a student of life, love, and soul for the last few years. He could have lost this connection after his accident, but I think it’s just increased his hunger.

I can remember a time when we were first dating that he would tell me he didn’t feel in touch with his spirituality, that he didn’t understand it or how he felt about it, or what it all meant. For the last three years or so he’s been seeking inner peace, and I know it’s made him a better person.

Here are a few amber hued words that resonated with me.

Love is the source. Love is the goal.  

The beauty of love is that in giving it away we are left with more than what we had before. 

Lessons abound, don’t they?

I particularly love number six and eight.

What lesson did you learn today?

Fierce love – and why I’m grateful to have my face

When I sit back and think about the magnitude of this crazy adventure we are on, it blows my mind that we’ve survived. I’ve always known that life is capable of throwing a mean curve ball, but I never expected it would be this mean, and come this early in life.

At the same time that I am proud beyond measure with how we’ve handled the aftermath of Nick’s injury, I also know that we’ve been very blessed, and have had oceans of help to get us through it. We’ve been well taken care of, still to this day. We’ve been lifted up, catered to, and loved on by friends and family everyday. In other words, we’ve had it relatively easy.

Two nights ago, one of my favorite shows, Taboo, shared the story of a man who lost his face in a work accident. His forehead accidentally hit power lines. When I say he lost his face, I mean every recognizable feature on his face was burned off, but somehow he survived. The doctors took skin and just stretched it across the bones on his face, and reshaped a mouth opening so he could breath, eat, and talk. He lost his sight, his identity, and the fundamental acceptance from society that we all take for granted as regular-looking people. He eventually got the first-ever full face transplant and now has a recognizable (but not quite normal-looking) human face again, but it’s the face of someone else. The most amazing thing about his story, is that he truly feels lucky to be alive, despite the cruel world he must now live in.

Both Nick and I agree that we’d rather lose our legs than our face, without a doubt. The more incredible stories we hear of people overcoming severe obstacles like that, the more we realize that Nick’s obstacles really aren’t that big. Well, that’s how I see it anyway. I’m not in Nick’s body, so I don’t know the pain, but what I DO know is that one day Nick will wake up and this healing process will be a faded memory with very little emotional suffering attached to it. As time passes, his new normal will begin to FEEL normal. He will adapt. He will not only have hope for physical and emotional prosperity, he will be LIVING it.

In the depths of my heart, I’m grateful for the challenges we’ve overcome these past 14 months. But don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to do it again, and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone else in the world. But because I can see a bright future for us, and because I feel like we’ve grown into better people, and because we’ve experienced fierce love and pain, and because I’m an optimist to the core, I think we’re lucky. Evidence of our grand luck doesn’t always scream at us, it’s more a subtle tugging on my sleeve, a nagging pit in my stomach, that lets me know to be grateful for all we have.

Tuesday July 24, 2012

Ahhhh, a good day.

Yes!

The dark clouds have parted – so has his skin

Seeing the spine surgeon today made all the difference in Nicks attitude and mood. He’s been down for so many days now because of the pain and lack of expected improvement. But today his mind was put at ease.

They took the 40 staples out of his back so now he’s free to take a real shower. The X-rays looked good and the doctor is pleased.

At some point today, probably when Nick was stretching without a shirt on, about an inch of his newly closed wound opened up. You can see on the picture that the skin looks strange from the ninth staple down to the twelfth, and thats where it wasn’t quite healed. It’s not terrible, but it’s gross. I cleaned it and butterfly closed it so he can sleep with abandon.

He’s still having a lot of trouble walking and is doing very little of it. At two and a half weeks he is still mostly laying down. Standing is really painful and he only has so much stamina, but he’s working on it slowly. The doc said another four weeks and he’ll be feeling back to normal. Just as I had always expected.

His new attitude is the best part though. He’s so tired of being in pain and injured, but after getting the reassurance that he’s okay, he is reunited with his ultimate goal: to get strong and Get Bust Living!

Why we shouldn’t know the Colorado shooters name

What a terrible way to wake up this morning. To all those personally affected by last night’s shooting: I’m sorry and I’m mourning with you.

He didn’t just kill 14 people and victimize a theater full of Batman fans, he terrorized the good people of our nation. Though I’m riddled with anger for what he did to hundreds of thousands of people across America, I am cautious not to allow myself to feel fear.

Do NOT let him win.

Don’t be afraid to live your life. Go to the movies. Go to ball games, concerts, and the mall. Celebrate the life you still have, and love the people around you. Remember, people are inherently good. To be fearful, or to say his name and show his picture is a subtle way of letting him win.

If the media would stop showing his picture and broadcasting his name his power would be greatly diminished. The investigators and interrogators working with him should tell him there’s no news coverage of his sinister act. He wanted the attention and unfortunately he’s getting it. At least we could lead him to believe his plan to gain fame didn’t work, that he didn’t deeply affect the masses, that nobody cares about who he is. I’m sure he’ll go down in history much like McVeigh and the Columbine kids, but he doesn’t deserve such satisfaction to know that.

I wish peace, healing, and eventual closure to the victims families and those who are left to make sense of the horrific sights and sounds of last nights tragedy. Love, forgiveness, and compassion will always be the victor over anger, hatred, and vengeance, even though it’s incredibly difficult to recognize that when you’re completely enveloped in the emotions of a tragedy such as this.

 

Velvet – and your chance to make her day

“Life is too short to carry the burden of a heavy heart. It does not serve you or anyone else. Free yourself through the power of forgiveness and compassion.” –David Simon

Just two (long) weeks after Nick’s surgery, he’s up, at ’em, and ready to take on the world (and maybe a nap too). This afternoon we went to the county hospital and did Nick’s volunteer orientation and training. It’s been months in the making, but today marked the official beginning of Nick’s journey to give back. A HUGE thank you to Robyn the volunteer services coordinator, Tommy the caring trauma nurse extraordinaire, and June from Amputee Empowerment Partners and Hanger Prosthetics. As a group, they’re blasting through red tape to bring support and encouragement to hospital patients… in a Nick Fener kind of way.

As an amazing surprise, Nick was able to do his first visit with a patient today. And it was by personal request. We met the sweetest, most inspiring woman I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in a very long time. She heard about Nick, heard he was going to be there today, and asked if she could meet him.

Her name is Velvet, and she gave me permission to share her story. Her health problems really kicked in about two years ago, and she was dropped from her insurance. With no other place to turn she began receiving care from the county hospital and has been in the hospital over ten times in the last two years. I just can’t imagine how difficult that has been for her. Yet, even with mounting health concerns, she’s a fun, quirky lady with a heart of gold and a personality that lights up a room. When we visited her, she wasn’t in a standard issue hospital gown, she brought her own brightly colored dress and had bright green nails to match. She greeted us all with big warm hugs and a genuine smile, despite being ill and stuck in a stale white hospital room. She doesn’t look like she feels too well, but her spirit sings a totally different song. She beams like the sun, is open and funny, likes to joke around with the nurses (just like Nick used to still does) and she sees life through compassionate eyes that many of us may never have insight to.

She’s an artist. She colors beautiful felt posters and creates unique works of art straight from her heart. And she gives them away as Thank You’s to the staff of the hospital for her continued care. She spoke passionately of her desire to give back to those who have helped her and was keenly interested in how Nick planned to do the same. Her overflowing heart etched into our souls.

Nick and Velvet at the county hospital. Velvet is a true inspiration and beautiful spirit.

I don’t know about Velvet’s finances, but can only guess she has a very strained budget. She mentioned that each painting costs her about $18 including the frame. I immediately began thinking of ways to help her paint more, and pay less. Give more, live more, love more.

If you’re touched at all by her story, I ask that you visit your nearest Michael’s Craft store or Joann’s Fabrics (two stores I know she gets supplies from) and pick up a gift card for her. It doesn’t have to be much. Sign your name, or make it anonymous, it doesn’t matter, I know she will be overwhelmed with gratitude.

You can send them to the hospital at the following address:

RCRMC Volunteer Services

C/O Robyn Manning

26520 Cactus Ave

Moreno Valley, CA 92555

I resonated deeply with her when she spoke about her husband. In 32 years they have spent very little time apart. They are soul mates. It makes him crazy when she’s in the hospital. They are just doing the best they can do. Sometimes he’ll come have lunch with her and they will go down into the hospital cafeteria where he will lay out a table cloth, light a candle and put a few flowers on the table to make their time together more special.

If that doesn’t melt your heart with the warmth of true love and a survivor’s spirit, I don’t know what will.

Thank you!

A New Script

“Unless you loosen the hold your past has on you, your future will unfold in much the same way… It is time to begin writing a new script that accurately reflects the beautiful, powerful, and worthy being you are.” -David Simon

Nick is on day 2 of a 21 day meditation through the Deepak Chopra Center. They sent him this quote tonight. Fitting, as we had just spent an hour talking about this very topic.

We’re okay.

Actively harnessing the peace, acceptance, and joy in our hearts.

Back from the Abyss

Day 11 post-surgery and Nick is finally beginning to feel human again. I’m not saying he’s without pain, but he’s a little more like himself today. Not only did he go outside and feel sunshine on his skin for the first time in a week, but he left the house today too. And, in true Fener fashion, he pushed himself a little too hard. Costco is a huge place! Maybe that wasn’t the best choice for a first outing, but hey, we really needed 160 lbs of dog food, 54 rolls of toilet paper, and $10 worth of cherries.

On the way home I couldn’t drive fast enough for him – the pain suddenly overtook him when we were finishing in Costco – and he fell asleep within seconds of getting back in bed. Today was a turning point in his recovery though, and I have to acknowledge that. The evidence that he actually IS getting better is too strong to ignore, and with that, we have to keep pushing forward.

I’ve somehow found a deep sense of peace with where we are right now, and it’s enveloped in a thick cloud of knowing life will be much better soon (cue The Smith’s song How Soon Is Now). My optimism has narrowly kept us afloat the last eleven days, but I can now see Nick beginning to tread water on his own again. I know it won’t be long before he’s swimming, both metaphorically and literally. As soon as his wound is healed I’m throwing him in the pool for some exercise.

I’m calmly elated that the worst is behind us. Strangely though, I feel like I’ve said that before.

Thursday July 12, 2012

Apparently it’s been a week since Nicks surgery, but Black Holes know no time.

This is harder than we thought, but I’m grateful that we don’t have anything else going on and can focus 100% on his immediate recovery. Being back at square one is a challenge all on it’s own.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a call light to answer.

Monday July 9, 2012

We’ve been in bed damn near all day. Blah. The last three weeks have officially caught up to me. And Nick, well, he just had back surgery.

We drank a lot of fresh green vegetable juice today that I made fresh yesterday, had a big green salad, and unfortunately, ate enough Nutella to make me want to puke. Nothing like canceling out all my good clean-eating efforts with chocolatey, hazelnutty goodness (that I happened to blend with bananas and freeze to make creamy fudgesicles). I’m blaming it on not feeling good. Yea, that’s it.

Tomorrow is going to look much different. I hope.

Hardware is out 7/8/12

When we got home from the hospital today Nick asked for his tools and got busy re-assembling the bag of rods, bolts, and screws that came out of his back a few days ago.

These screws are no joke. Even the spiraled threading is sharp! And they were in his body, holding him together! Creepy. Now he only has four screws and two short rods. I hope he doesn’t feel like less of a man.

What should we do with this hardware?

Walking day 3!

Back to the basics, but he’s doing it!

He got up to walk twice today! And to think, this morning he didn’t believe he could get out of bed. But by noon he was making it happen. Slowly. Very slowly.

His right leg is extremely heavy because of his painful hip. He’s putting a lot of weight on his hands again and I had to remind him a few times to relax the tension in his shoulders.

During his second therapy session he walked almost twice as far as the first time.

Nick Fener is one determined dude.

Saturday July 7, 2012

Here’s a formal farewell to Nick’s fever: Good riddance! 

We found out why Nick’s right hip is so painful and swollen. They took bone from his hip and used it in the spinal fusion. And I’m not so sure we were going to find out about it unless Nick complained of the pain. They re-fused his vertebrae from L3 to S1, installing two small rods and two screws. The surgeons took Nick’s active lifestyle into account when making this in-operative decision to add more hardware. They could have just used the bone from his hip and hoped for the best, but instead decided to give him every possible chance of fully healing with no complications or future weakness. Two screws are better than twelve.

He has a dimpled indentation where the old screw was sticking out. The surgeon said, “the bolt was eating away at the skin from the inside.” No wonder it was constantly inflamed and swollen. Yuck! He also said that the original fusion only healed about half way, if that. Despite our best attempts to create a healing environment for Nick, his spine just wouldn’t cooperate. It could potentially take up to another year for the bones to fully fuse. But maybe not. I guess we’ll see.

While digging around in his back, the doc noticed some bone scraping against nerve fibers in his spinal column and cleaned it up. There’s a good chance that by releasing those nerves he will have less pain in his back and legs. I don’t want to jinx anything, but Nick told me he hasn’t had a single twinge of phantom pain since his surgery. Not once. But this is the only time we’re going to talk about it. Despite my glee, we’re not going to have a party over this; there’s no sense in putting any thought or energy into something gone, especially when we want to keep it that way.

We’re going home tomorrow. Now that’s something to celebrate!

Friday July 6, 2012

My realization: Hospital chairs make your ass hurt.

Nick’s realization: Every minute is an hour.

He’s had a low grade fever all day. It’s really bummin’ me out man. Could be an infection, but his white blood cell count was normal early this morning. He got antibiotics immediately after the surgery yesterday, and began another treatment this evening as well. Waiting for more blood work in the morning.

Physical therapy came by twice today (the same awesome woman who worked with him last year after his anterior spinal fusion). On the first go, he tried to sit up but couldn’t move enough to even get propped up on an elbow. It was just too painful.

A few hours later PT returned and Nick found the strength to sit all the way up on the edge of the bed. He sat there for at least ten minutes before carefully laying down again.

It seemed he felt a little bit better as each hour passed. He napped over and over again and even ate solid food. We’re making progress.

I have a feeling he’ll be kicking major ass tomorrow.

Hospitals still suck

5:30am is really stinking early to us. 5:30am is especially stinking early to us when we are reporting for surgery at a hospital that’s 30 minutes away. 5:30am is really, really, ridiculously stinking early when they make you wait for 5 hours before starting said surgery!

Last week Nick waited 2.5 hours in the waiting room for a pre-op appointment, and today he waited 5 hours for the same doc. Something is very wrong with this picture. We didn’t feel like patients or customers, we felt like puppets. Waking at 3:45am only to sit around on hard chairs under bright fluorescent lighting, suffering audible assault by incessant beeping in a cold and sterile room completely sucked the life out of us on a day that we needed every speck of strength and optimism.

Honestly, I have no idea how the surgery went because I still haven’t talked to the doctor. In his groggy, post-op sedation, Nick briefly spoke with him. The two rods and twelve screws are out, along with other miscellaneous parts, but apparently they had to put some hardware back in. We knew this was a possibility, I just want to know the extent of it all.

I met up with Nick at 3:30 this afternoon as he was being transported from Recovery up to his room. All afternoon and evening he’s been quiet and still, wearing a perma-grimmace. He shifted position twice tonight with the help of two nurses and myself. These minor adjustments shot his pain levels through the roof. And don’t even think about bumping the bed!

I brought his pain medicine with me, knowing that it would take forever for them to get his shit straight. I was right, and so grateful he took some. It was nearly 5 hours before he got oxycodone from the nurse, and still his pain is out of control.

There is a hemo-vac draining fluid and blood from his back, which leads me to believe he might not be going home tomorrow as we’ve been anticipating. I hope not, but I am mentally preparing for it. I know Nick’s going to be pissed if he has to stay another night though.

So ready for this to be over.

Nothing fun to watch here. Move along…

Sucking every ounce of fun out of life before his big surgery.

If you’re having trouble viewing this, you can watch it here.

Hardware 7-5-12

The hardware from Nick’s back.

Nick had the hardware removed from his back today, and we get to keep it!

Unfortunately they had to put some back in.

Poor dude is having a really rough time. The pain in his back is unbearable. He can barely even move his arms it hurts so bad.

Happy 4th of Joo Lie!!

Tandem floatie at the Canyon Lake pool… just moments before Nick popped it.

 

Nick is going in for surgery at 5:30am on Thursday, so we kept our 4th of July very mellow. We went to Mom Fener’s for a yummy BBQ, and then watched the fireworks from our front porch. Last year I bought some fireworks from a stand in San Bernardo where they’re still legal, so we set a few of them off tonight. I can’t believe we didn’t set our front porch on fire! One was a huge crackling fountain that sprayed all over the place. That’s the extent of our holiday excitement this year.

We hung out at the Canyon Lake pool yesterday though, and soaked up the sun. Nick popped my beloved pink floatie that I brought home from Florida. He didn’t just pop it, he ripped the damn thing in half with his legs!

Wish us luck tomorrow. We’re hoping his surgeons had a mild 4th of July too.

We should be home by Saturday if everything goes well.

“Girls Gone Mild” trip. Florida 2012

Here are a few of my favorite pictures from my “Girls Gone Mild” trip to Florida…

Florida bound for 6 days with Amanda.

Happy Birthday Kim! Floating in the lazy river at Wet & Wild water park in Orlando, Florida.

I love that you can drive on the beach in Daytona. That means the ice cream man can too! Now all they need is a mobile cocktail service.

Self timer photo shoot on the dock just before jumping in.

Airborne! Jumping off the dock and into the lake at Kim’s house.

Jumping off the dock. Can you tell I love self portraits?

We saw Magic Mike on opening night… and so did half of the women in Daytona Beach.

Screen shot from Magic Mike!
Yeah, I couldn’t help myself.

Look how beautiful Blue Springs is! This is where the Manatees should have been, but my mating call didn’t work.

Huntin’ for gators at Cracker Creek. I’m in a kayak, Kim’s on a floating spin bike that doesn’t turn around. No alligators were hurt, killed, or even spotted during our hunt.

Beer and egg sandwiches for breakfast at a “fun zone” arcade on the beach. There was no other option.

The ocean was calm and warm at Daytona Beach.

I loved my Florida vacation. We completely missed the tropical storm “Debby” and had unusually perfect weather. Only a few cat-fights, one pair of ruined glasses, a lost bathing suit, no hang-overs, a mere $60 worth of unused rented SCUBA gear, a new turtle named Sampson, one mild sunburn, a few karaoke duets, six days of poppin’ bottles, and an alligator head souvenir… I’d say it was a good trip!