Training with Fener-March 2013

We can’t sit still for long. This week marks the beginning of something new on the training/recovery front.
Beginning this week I’ll be working with Nick on his daily workouts instead of him going to a trainer. Actually, today will be his last day with his trainer, then it’s GO time at home with me.

For the last two months Nick has been inconsistent. In fact, ever since he ended Project Walk, he’s been slackin’ a little. (sorry honey) Now, don’t get me wrong, he’s been WAY more active on a daily basis by just walking everywhere, skydiving some, and doing more of his daily activities himself. He’s definitely been pushing himself in life, just not in the gym. He’s taken a lot of days off from hardcore training or pushing himself on the treadmill or stationary bike. No more.

He has a date with me now five days a week where we will push him through a workout that we design together each morning. Some days we will work weights, some days we’ll work on cardio endurance. Yesterday’s leg routine practically killed him. Oh I’m so pleased.

He wants to enter a 5k in April, and do a portion (or two) of a Challenged Athletes triathlon in August. Training has begun!

Last night Nick took a quick trip to Lowe’s for some “honey do’s” and ended up motivating a young worker who is out of shape and wants to get back into running to lose weight and eventually skydive.

Work with what you’ve got. If you can’t run, walk. If you can’t walk, do leg and arm lifts. Just move your body somehow. Use it or lose it.

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A breakthrough happens the moment you make a new choice.
–Tony Robbins

Life is still hard, but he makes it look so easy

Nick makes it look so easy, doesn’t he? I mean, even I can forget that he’s in a lot of pain and struggling just to do the little things. He’s a hard charger, and life is getting easier, but we still haven’t found the intersection of pain free life, acceptance, and ease of daily living.

I’m not trying to complain, or bitch, or attract sympathy, I just feel like keeping it real tonight. Life is still hard, and will always be hard for Nick. Period. Even the occasional skydives, or trip to the go-kart track, or any amount of Reese’s peanut butter cups can erase this truth. In fact, Nick participating in “normal” activities again only accentuates the fact that life is fucking HARD. Every. Little. Thing. Is. Difficult.

We made a few jumps last weekend and by the end of the day I could feel the exhaustion pouring from him, but I doubt anyone else noticed. He packed his own parachute, carried his gear from the landing area, and fell down on a few landings. He even fell on the packing mat in front of everyone, but brushed it off like it was nothing. That kind of stuff doesn’t embarrass him, but it still sucks. Falling down on his knees not only hurts, but it puts holes in the liners of his prostheses and ruins the vacuum seal necessary to keep his legs secure. He’s going through liners like crazy.

I’m insanely proud of my man. He is pushing through life, trying to grow and progress and gain as much back as possible, all the while navigating the emotions that come with the territory of dealing with a permanent injury. It’s been a year and nine months. We can’t really remember how life used to be anymore. All over our house I see old pictures of our old life and strain to recall a recent time as carefree, fun, or innocent as those times. Our old life feels like a childhood memory, our present life feels like a dream, and the future is a blank canvas with a somewhat limited color palette to choose from.

I’ve printed some photos from this last year and framed them, but they’ve yet to make the wall. It’s one thing to live our new life, to write about it, or talk about it. It’s another thing to frame the proof and look at it on the wall everyday next to all the proof of other good times we’ve had. Not sure why I have a mental block about this, but it’s there.

Nick has been finding meaning through helping people. He’s been back to Ballard a few times to meet patients and listen to their experience. At that stage in their recovery they’re just looking to be heard, to explore their feelings about the future, and meet other people who can prove to them that life will get better. Nick hasn’t been able to volunteer at the hospital yet, but hopefully that program will get running soon. He’s also developed a few good friendships through his desire to help. He’s talked to several people on the phone, and has made a good buddy locally who recently got hurt riding a dirt bike. Last week Nick brought him food, then on the weekend he picked him up and they went to watch moto races together.

Here’s some pics from the last time we went skydiving. I’m trying to get him to prioritize having some sort of fun every day. If he’s going to be in pain no matter what, he might as well be enjoying what he’s doing while he’s hurting. And if he’s having a good enough time, it can temporarily distract from the pain and reality of his injury.

Nick and Carson over beautiful Oceanside. I took this pic, and all the others as well.

So grateful to have him in my life still.

Nick docking on my foot.

Nick, Carson, and Graham launching out of the PAC.

Nick on the left flying on his head with Carson

Nick mid-transition

Damn near stood this one up

Spinal Cord Stimulator Trial

The spinal cord stimulator trial. So glad it’s over

I have some reflecting to do about our week of stimulator trial hell. Sorry for the repost, but the other one got lost on my end.

What a miserable week for Nick, dealing with the two wires piercing through his skin, the giant box taped to his back, the screwy programming of the actual unit, and the realization that it isn’t the saving grace we have been imagining for the last year.

We spent an entire year building up to this. We got a first opinion. We got a second opinion. We got a THIRD opinion. We’ve had many appointments just discussing the stimulator, have talked to other patients, manufacturer reps, and done lots of reading on the internet.

The results are disappointing, yet somewhat intriguing. It produced a pleasant sensation, just not where he needed it. Our experience with this damn thing kept us guessing all week, and ended with Nick yanking it out himself because the surgical site was getting infected.

The jury is still out about whether he will get it permanently installed or not. It helped a little to distract his brain from the phantom and nerve pain, but it didn’t actually help with the pain because he couldn’t feel it where he needs it: in his butt, hamstrings, and especially his feet (you know, the feet that aren’t there, but still haunt him daily). A week later, he still can’t decide if that mildly pleasant sensation and half-assed pain diversion is worth going through with having the surgery and getting the device permanently implanted. The surgery involves general anesthesia and a partial lamenectomy to remove bits of his spine to make room for it. Ugh, another fucking surgery.

In the meantime, his phantom pains are OUT OF CONTROL again, particularly at night. He’s sleeping like shit unless he takes pain medicine, and some nights that doesn’t even help. A sleepless Nick = a grumpy, irritated Nick. Thankfully the last few nights he has taken enough medicine to sleep soundly through the night, and put his cheapy vibrating TENS unit on his stumps prior to falling asleep to help distract him.

To me, him taking an extra pain med at night is worth it to assure he is rested and energized the next day. For him, he’s trying to take as little pain medication as possible with the hopes of getting off it all together some day. And that was the point of the spinal cord stimulator, but it’s clear the stimulator can’t replace good ol’ oxycontin for an injury as severe as Nick’s. A bummer for so many reasons.

Painting pottery is so manly

This photo is so romantic… me and my love painting pottery together.

We took a friend out for her birthday this evening and as I expected Nick loved painting pottery. It’s so meditative and relaxing. We were there over three hours, and he said he could have gone at least one more.

He’s been having a lot of frustrating and relentless phantom pains lately, and I think painting offered him a rare chance to “zone out.”

That, and he now has a special bowl to eat his oatmeal from every morning. Awwww, how sentimental.

Happy Valentine’s Day y’all

Well, we may not subscribe to, or partake in, traditional Valentines nonsensical spending and crowd navigating, but I sure am lucky to have such a special Valentine to share this random Thursday with.

Whether single or spoken for, happy or miserable, I sincerely wish all my family, friends, and fans a beautiful day of inner peace and love for life.

Don’t take things so seriously, be patient with yourself and others, say thank you, and smile. Spread some love today and everyday, even if you don’t have a Valentine. Happiness comes from within anyway.

Nick + Lindsay = Love

Nick “graduated” from Project Walk

Can you believe it? Nick may not be back to normal yet (what is normal, anyway?), but he and his lead trainer decided it was time to move on. A bitter sweet accomplishment.

Eric, Bri, and a very proud Mr. Fener enjoying a mini-photo shoot on Nick’s last day at Project Walk.

After exactly one year of making the hour-long drive down to Project Walk three times a week for Nick’s two-hour grueling sessions, Nick did his last workout with Bri. There was a mini celebration, lots of hugs, and tons of pictures and video being taken.

So so so proud of my love! Ahhh what a ride it’s been.

During the actual workout they tried something new with Nick that completely blew us all away. Nick ran across the floor for the first time ever!

Here is a link to a video of Nick running. (Forgive me if the video is messed up at this time. If it is, I’ll work toward getting a different video posted as soon as possible.)

The harness he’s wearing is not holding him up, it’s just for safety, and he did end up needing it once or twice during his first attempts. His new feet with more springy toes and new sockets that attach with a vacuum system have made it much easier for him to be steady on his feet. I’m pretty sure he could not have run like this with his old legs and feet.

Action! Eric spent an hour with us taking video of Nick’s last workout.

Recording Nick’s workout means instant feedback. Each run he did was better than the last.

Nick trying to run on the Woodway treadmill. It’s curved, so it’s propelled with each step he takes. This particular one was designed specifically for spinal cord injury patients at Project Walk.

“Is this thing hooked up right?”

Nick still has a long way to go to rehabilitate his body and get stronger, but we’re confident we now have the foundation and the tools after working with Project Walk. He’s doing his own workouts at home and with a local trainer. He’s on the treadmill or stationary bike almost everyday and has worked up to a mile and 3/4 without stopping on the treadmill. His next goal is to complete a 5k race in a few months. It helps to have a goal to keep you accountable, something beyond just “getting better.”

Driving away from Project Walk that day was sad but exciting. We were quiet in the car for a while, digesting the magnitude of what just happened. It really feels like only a few months ago that we were giddy with anticipation of his first session and what amazing changes it would bring to our lives.

Looking back at a year spent at Project Walk ignites a fire of gratitude for me. Not only was it a hefty investment that we’d make ten times over again, we know it wouldn’t have been possible without all the fundraising from our friends and family. What a privilege to be able to afford such leading-edge therapy and do whatever it took to get Nick’s life back.

I’m grateful that Nick was able to see an “end” to his therapy at Project Walk at all. That he can be mobile enough to no longer require their specialized facility. That he can workout here at home on his own and work with a more local personal trainer as well. I can’t help but smile when I feel Bri’s encouraging words dance through my mind, “Nick, you’re now less like a person with a spinal cord injury, and more like a weak able-bodied person.” Every moment is a reminder of how far he’s come.

Without Project Walk, I don’t know where we’d be right now, but I’m confident it wouldn’t be here, staring eagerly into the future, delighting in the countless possibilities to chase and create. Feeling joy in the unknowns, rather than confusion and sorrow.

Thank you Project Walk, Eric, Bri, and everyone who made us feel at home every single day. We will miss you guys!

Birthday update- the old man is 35 now

Well, Nicks birthday has come and gone. He’s 35 now. He says he’s at the half way point now, but I recon he’s more than half way done. I can be so mean, huh!

Since Fener doesn’t like to make a big deal about his birthday I decided to finally honor his wishes and keep it low key for him. He wanted so badly to jump but the weather wouldn’t cooperate, so we raced go karts instead. Only this time I didn’t let him win!

We also enjoyed dinner at one of his favorites: Red Lobster! I couldn’t believe he didn’t save room for dessert. I mean, he turned down the free dessert! Crazy!

He also tried his foot at an old hobby for the first time at Threshold climbing gym.

Scaling a wall was not easy for him. He didn’t get too high, but he gave every ounce of effort. One issue he faced was lack of leg strength. This means he was hanging on his arms and shoulders too much which exhausted him even quicker than expected. He also can’t flex or rotate his ankles to get good placement on the climbing wall holds and pegs. But even so, he somehow crammed those rigid plastic feet of his into some tight climbing shoes and went for it.
My favorite part was observing the reaction of the other climbers. They watched intently as Nick struggled and slipped his way up. I could feel their respect.

The manager of Threshold, Doug, personally assisted us with a refresher and helped to get us on the wall. He does a lot of work with adaptive programs that help amputees and other disabled people rock climb, and gave us some killer local resources we hadn’t heard of before. And to top it off, Nick got an unexpected email from him a few days later offering to take us outdoor climbing in Joshua Tree this spring. Thanks Doug!

Lunges — okay, maybe not

Nick tried to do lunges for the first time today, propped between two wood thingies. It didn’t work, and we realized lunging is not a good idea. Lesson learned. And part of that lesson is that you can’t find your limits unless you test them. Or something like that.

See: lunges.
Ignore: mesh Madonna gloves.

Stand it up!

Nick finally stood up a landing! It was pretty windy, but dang, were were excited!

Seconds after touching down… giving each other a high five for standing up his landing.

Killer home workouts

Nick’s trainer is out of town this week, so I’ve been kicking his butt instead.

I’m really proud of his persistence. Today I could see he really wanted to quit after the second round of exercises, but he pushed through. It was tough, and he kept up at a good pace.

He’s exhausted though. I asked him what kind of internal monologue he had going on in those moments of wanting to quit. He told me he kept reminding himself that he had worked so hard just to be able to move around and be stable on his feet, that if he quit the workout early he would just be laying down doing what he used to do back when he was wishing he could be working out. Did that come out right?

We’ve been doing multiple circuits of weight lifting with short bursts of cardio, him on the stationary bike, me on the treadmill. You know what they say: a family that sweats together, stays together.

Happy New Year 2013

Happy New Year y’all!

I’m officially naming 2012 The ComeBack Year! Going into 2013, I can’t help but feel like we’ve arrived!

Nick and I aren’t setting “resolutions” per se, but we are going to sit down and write out our goals for the year. Likely, goals that don’t include things like “walk again” or “go a full day without the wheelchair” or “balance for 25 seconds unassisted.”

2013 will be about moving forward, not catching up. And since Nick’s already back to jumping, I think we’ve got a pretty good start.

We ended the year with working out today and spending time with friends, and we will welcome the new year with the same thing tomorrow on the 1st.

Health and happiness.

When you break down the complexities of everyday life, doesn’t it all boil down to these two things anyway?

Lindsay’s New Years Resolution 2013

I’m at a crossroads right now. I know that, regarding life, I can go in whatever direction I choose. But I suffer from womanhood; I can’t seem to make a decision. At least not about anything truly important.

This leads me to The New Year. This year I want to make decisions more quickly, more definitively, and with more guts. I’m tired of him-hawing around. I’m 32 and in the prime of my life. Opportunities abound, I just need to figure out which ones to take and which ones to let go of. I didn’t “waste” the last year and a half, but I certainly did diverge from my life plan. Shit, I didn’t just diverge from it, I stomped it to oblivion. The old plan is gone, and similar to my childhood, it’s fun to think about at times until I realize it’s gone forever, maturity robbing it of it’s magic.

I’ve been so caught up in Nick’s world that I haven’t spent much time in my own. Even now, three weeks after his first jump back, I’m still tangled in the mess of discovering who I am and what I want from life now. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I know it’s not the same as it used to be. How could it be? The events of the last year and a half have skewed my view of life and love and mortality and value and purpose and passion and happiness so much so that I sometimes get lost in all the new ideas and attitudes I have developed. And what does that mean moving forward? How can I make the most of life? How can I make it count? Like REALLY count. How can I give the most? Live the most? Love the most? Connect and care the most? Experience and learn the most? How? How? How?

Analysis paralysis. I just don’t know where to start, and that’s the basis for my New Years Resolution: to shit, or get off the pot. Reorganize. Prioritize. And take action! Vague, I know, but this is the first step, to no longer settle for lengthy spans of indecision.

Our Gay Yuletide 2012

Christmas 2012 was truly fantastic. We started with a leisurely wake up and surprise visit from my Dad. We had no idea he was coming. In fact, he specifically told me we would not be seeing him this Christmas because he had several other places to go. Well, when he walked in our front door that morning he startled the shit out of us. He only stayed for 11 minutes before he hit the road again. It was like a drive-by. Wham Bam Thank You Dad!

After Dad took off we both worked out separately, but each worked our legs. Nick did the home workout Bri gave him and even used my 5lb ankle weights on his stumps for some of the moves. It was a great warm up for the fun day (and for the apple cobbler Nick later ate).

At Mom Fener’s house we spent hours laughing, hanging out, eating her amazing food, and playing cards. Somehow I managed to bypass the sweets, even when Seth brought the tray of fudge over and sat it down right in front of me! Mom’s holiday hospitality was warm and jolly as usual.

Despite the great time I had on Christmas eve and day, I am thrilled it’s over. I am ready to move on. I’m ready for 2013.

The Fener boys chillin’ on Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas y’all

Here’s our holiday e-card. We have lots to celebrate and be thankful for this year, including the sense of humor we haven’t lost.

We spent Christmas eve with Nicks Dad and brother Seth. After a killer Thai food lunch, Seth treated us to some goKart races where Nick managed to smoke us all using his legs (instead of hand controls)! Then we went back to Seth’s place where Nick beat him at a competitive game of pool. PaFart still beat Nick though. Nick’s one of those guys who is good at everything, even with a fused spine and two fake legs. Damn it!

Anyway- Merry Christmas y’all! Hope it’s a perfect balance of magical and economical!

PB2– my new fave food!

My new favorite food! For anyone who loves peanut butter, but doesn’t like how calorically dense it is, PB2 is for YOU! I just found out about it (thank you Amanda) and ran out to buy it right away.

It’s powdered peanut butter. They pressed a lot of the oil and fat out. You mix with water and voila! It’s delish, all natural, and totally fits into my diet.

You can order online or go to their website and find a store near you. I found it at Nutrishop. Not cheap, but worth it.

You’re welcome!

Still moving along

Well, the world didn’t end. In fact, in our lives, it’s just beginning.

We’ve both been working out a lot, getting stronger everyday. Bri set Nick up with a home workout for his legs. It took him an hour and a half to complete it today.

Nick’s been feeling pretty good lately, even though phantom pain and sensations have been fucking with him. But he rarely complains. I know he’s just so grateful to be up on his feet and moving forward with life again. He knows how blessed he is to be walking with a spinal cord injury as severe as his. He doesn’t take his miraculous recovery for granted, he’s still working hard everyday to get more back. I think there will always be room for him to grow and get stronger. He can never stop. What it takes for Nick to just maintain the level of movement he’s gained, is like an able-bodied person training for an Iron Man.

Nick the caregiver

Nick said thank you this morning. He does that a lot. But this time, it stopped me in my tracks. He thanked me for dedicating myself to him and his recovery, for being by his side and never giving up even when it.

He thanked me as I lay in bed somewhat fragile with a pulled muscle in my upper back/neck area. I’m a better caregiver than patient. And he’s a better patient than caregiver. That’s just how it is, so I guess we lucked out didn’t we?

He then offered to massage me, a rare treat I wasn’t about to let slip away. He removed his legs, climbed across the bed to kneel over my back and try to make me feel better. He didn’t sleep well the last few nights, so I don’t dare take this kind gesture lightly.

Thank you Nick for taking care of me. I love you.

Busy Living…

Now that we’ve got Nick back to skydiving – and he’s proven he can do it safely – it’s time for him to learn how to fly all over again.

He sure isn’t the same up there, despite “being better than expected,” as friends keep telling him. (He’s made a total of four jumps so far.)

His legs are still weak and he has no arch. He’s basically getting to learn how to skydive all over again. The irony is this: he used to always tell students to slow down and enjoy the process, to embrace the frustration, because you only get to be “new” once. Well, Nick, I think you’ve proven yourself wrong buddy. This is a whole new ball game; learning to fly with a fused spine and two fake legs.

He’s gratefully stoked for the opportunity though. It really feels different around here. There is a lightness to the atmosphere in our home, an upswing of our general moods, an unspoken knowing that life isn’t going to get better; life IS better.

Life can go on. Life IS going on. Life isn’t just happening to us anymore. We are making it happen.

There has been a significant shift in perspective since his first jump. We’ve begun real, thoughtful, detailed talks about our future. Prior to the jump, our minds were so short sighted. We lived “foot step to foot step.” Quite literally.

It’s going to take some time for us to really gain momentum in life again, but with Nick skydiving again, I can say wholeheartedly that the ball is finally rolling.

Fener jumps again!

Last Saturday, December 8th proved to be the pinnacle of Nick’s recovery, even though he still has plenty of rehab left. His big day has come and gone; over 18 months of build-up resulted in a climax that did not disappoint.

With the help of our friends Paul, Jared, and Blue, we loaded two cars full of tables, chairs, coolers, food, skydiving equipment, and T-shirts the night before so we could get an early start that morning. Tsunami Skydivers is about an hour drive from our house and we wanted to arrive between 9:30-10am to make necessary preparations before our friends and family began showing up. It was a beautiful day with bright blue skies and warm-for-December temperatures down in Oceanside.

When we pulled up we were greeted by lots of smiling faces (of course my Dad was already there waiting for us!) and got busy right away. Our first order of business was to check out the plane. We’d never jumped from a PAC 750 before, so there were a few unknowns, like how Nick would get in, how the seating would be arranged, and how the exit would go.

Nick practicing his climb-out on the PAC750

The step ladder was no problem for him, and we were thrilled to find the plane had foam seats to keep Nick’s ass off the floor.

Once we cinched down our plan for getting out of the plane, we hopped in the van and headed over to the landing area to have another look at where Nick would be landing and to get an idea of where the spectators would be.

The landing area at Tsunami Skydivers is awesome! It’s flat and the dirt/grass is unusually soft. Not to mention the winds are almost always mild and predictable, and you always have a cushy ride back across the runway to pack!

By the time we finished the safety briefings, our friends started coming in droves. It reminded me a little bit of Feet For Fener, in that we were again the center of attention and surrounded by the love and support of all of our best friends. We were honored to have some very special people there with us. People who directly helped Nick get back on his feet again, and who shared the painful journey with us. Tommy Gann, the extraordinarily talented emergency trauma nurse who helped save Nick’s life, brought his family out to watch Nick jump. John Mayberry, Nick’s lead physical therapist at Ballard Rehab hospital, who taught Nick to transfer and maneuver a wheelchair, who personally prepared us for life on our own, made the long drive to Oceanside that day. He even wore his Fener shirt! Friend and fellow skydiver Bill Collins, Nick’s first outpatient physical therapist before he even had prostheses, and who worked hard to get Nick strong enough and flexible enough to stand on his legs when he got them, brought his girlfriend out to celebrate with us. Bri Hamilton, Nick’s lead specialist at Project Walk, who took ownership in Nick’s recovery and worked just as hard as he did every single week when they were together, brought her husband and made TWO tandem skydives! Eric Harness, co-founder of Project Walk and the man who showed Nick “no mercy” every Friday, pushing Nick’s limits and guaranteeing very sore Saturdays, came out with his family to support Nick. Harold Owens, Nick’s current personal trainer who has been killing Nick’s core and upper body to get him ready for the jump, was there with his wife Jill to cheer Nick on.

And like Feet For Fener there was money being raised, but this time not for Nick. We sold left over Fener shirts for donations to the Project Walk Scholarship Fund. Actually, we didn’t sell a thing, our friends Carrie and Idar manned the T-shirt table all day and worked the crowd, raising almost $1000. That’s nine hours of specialized therapy at Project Walk for someone rehabilitating from a spinal cord injury. Carrie and Idar were also responsible for gathering the canned food I asked people to bring for the food drive. Together we collected a giant pile of food and drinks that the Salvation Army was thrilled to pick up the next day.

It was hard to pull Nick away from all the friends who were excited to see and talk to him, but eventually we had to get ready for the jump. I told everyone he would be jumping at noon, but we were still mingling and soaking in the scene at noon, enjoying the company of our friends way too much to get down to business. But I stole Nick away and we sat down with our super star camera girl Karen Dalton and our additional lurking AFF instructor Paul Rodriguez and planned out the details of the dive. We were so stoked that Karen agreed to shoot video for us that day, especially because it meant flying with a monstrous camera that required special mounting on her helmet.

Karen, in her bad ass custom helmet, sighting in the massive camera, wearing a Fener shirt! Photo by Idar Kvam

The plan for the jump was that Nick would climb outside of the plane and hold on to the bar while I ducked inside grabbing his arms. Nick would signal the exit count with a thrust of his head and we would leap out together while Karen dropped below us and Paul followed right after. Nick and I would be face-to-face, give each other a kiss, then let go of one hand and open up for the camera. I’d then let go of him completely and we’d all sit there and watch Nick fly stable on his belly and do a 360 degree turn if he felt like it. We agreed that none of us would pull any impromptu maneuvers no matter how tempting, and that Nick would pull in place at 5,000 feet. Easy. We are all experienced instructors and between the four of us we have over 20,000 skydives total. At the risk of shattering the illusion of excitement and danger for my non-skydiving readers, this skydive was engineered to be extremely routine, and frankly, kind of boring. It was designed to be safe, to see what Nick’s really capable of in the sky, and to get good footage for the documentary and pictures for the wall.

Before Nick geared up for the jump he stood up and said a little Thank You to the crowd, making sure to publicly acknowledge Bri and Eric and Project Walk for being the secret sauce that got Nick to this point after his injury. But they weren’t the only ones who came from P-Dub! We were joined by several other clients who have become friends, one of the other trainers, and our favorite pseudo-Mom Kay Ledson. We were shocked to see everyone, yet at the same time not surprised at all. There’s a brotherhood at Project Walk that is so strong it’s like a family. Even though Nick and I don’t spend a lot of time down there because we always have a long drive home, we consider the people at Project Walk our extended family. Our friends there continue to inspire and motivate us. It was truly an honor to have so many of them come out to support Nick.

Nick talking to his friends and family just before the jump. We loved the fact that Tsunami Skydivers offered an intimate environment for everyone to meet everyone else. It was perfect!

The Project Walk crew who came our for Nick’s jump. (Minus Bri and Ke)

It was GO time before you know it, and I was just rushing around like a crazy person by this point. The timing was awkward. Nick didn’t want to gear up too soon, for fear of exhausting himself with the heavy equipment. We knew it would take him the longest to get ready, but of course, nothing was going to happen until he was ready to go.

The crowd watched Nick’s every move as he geared up.

Last minute adjustments to Nick’s microphone. That’s Doug, Match and John helping out.

By the time we got our shit together and made the short walk to the plane, we still weren’t ready to board. Our agenda included a pre-planned photo-op in front of the plane, all geared up, with a few key people in the crowd. And because of Nick’s dwindling energy, we didn’t get to snap photos with everyone we would have liked to.

Everyone on the load for Nick’s first jump back. Kneeling in the front is Ricardo, then there’s Karen, Paul, Nick, Me, Jenn and Mike Nootbaar both doing tandems, Brinkman, Bandito, Carson, and in the back are tandem instructors Isaiah and Dave (not visible), and MooTang. Photo by Amanda Burgess

That’s my nervous smile! But Nick, he was as cool as the other side of the pillow. Photo by Idar Kvam

Everything was happening so fast. The adrenaline was really flowing, and the anticipation of the biggest moment of our lives was looming just ahead. I stood back as Nick climbed the step ladder into the plane. I just couldn’t believe it was finally happening. Everything we had been working for was boiling down to these next few moments. Had I missed anything? Was he going to be alright? Was I going to fuck up the skydive? All these crazy worries flashed into my head as I watched Nick stumble his way into the plane, accidentally smashing the GoPro attached to his foot against the floor of the plane while crawling his way into place at the back of the bench. I climbed into the plane and took my seat right between his legs and looked out at our friends waving us good luck.

My perfect spot on the plane, next to Nootbaar, and in front of Nick so I could lean back and snuggle with him. The blurry Waldo way in the back is one of Nick’s best buds Vinnie, who got to ride along in the plane with us. Photo by Amanda Burgess

Two very special people couldn’t make it that day, so we took them along with us. Al and Debbie Nocita were there in spirit! Nick can’t wait to autograph this puppy and give it to them.

This one’s for you Al and Debbie!

All the jumpers got buckled in and shut the door. Rick the super cool pilot started the prop and took off down the runway. As soon as we left the ground I laid into Nick’s arms, threw my head back onto his shoulder and started to cry. He held me tight, turning his face into mine as I let everything out. It felt like 18 months of heartache was finally releasing. I cried for what we have been through, for all the pain Nick has experienced, and all the helpless moments I have watched him suffer. I cried for the knowing that the worst is behind us. We had been saying “Get Busy Living” the entire time since his accident, but it was in this moment that I realized we had only been “Getting Ready to Get Busy Living”. This skydive was more than just a skydive, it was the moment that Nick would finally Get Busy Living his life again. And I knew that I could finally move on too.

I was so preoccupied with my crying that I missed the mooning as we took off. Apparently a bunch of our girlfriends lined up along the runway and showed us their butt cheeks as we flew by. But don’t tell Nick, he’ll ask them to do it again!

As we approached 13,500 feet, everyone started to give us high fives and wish us luck. The door opened, and the rush of cool air on my face reminded me of what we were about to do. Our six friends were first to get out as a group, then Mike, then Jenn. We could see the dazzling blue Pacific a mere two and a half miles below. It was beautiful.

We closed the door and flew the plane around a few times to allow everyone to land before we got out. We put our helmets on and then realized the camera on Nick’s shoe was dislodged. A little ingenuity and gaffers tape did the trick to ensure the foot cam was a go, just in time for the green light to come back on.

Paul opened the door again, this time briefly climbing outside to turn on the two GoPro cameras mounted on the outside bar. Karen climbed out into position on the camera step as Nick scooted toward the door. He swung himself outside and fumbled to get his footing on the step. His big, awkward feet with unforgiving, rigid ankles required his full attention in order for him to get into place. I grabbed onto his shoulders, took a deep breath and gave him a shake.

Ready.

Set.

Go.

Nick let go of the plane at the same split second that I lunged forward holding onto him. In that instant there was no sound, no struggle. I lifted my chin to look at his face. His cheeks were scrunched and his mouth was wide open in a screaming smile. I couldn’t see his eyes through the sunglasses, but I knew they were staring deep into mine.

Our exit came off a little steep and I rotated over the top of him, landing us both perfectly stable onto our backs, staring at one another. Without a hesitation, like we had practiced a thousand times, we instinctively rolled over in the same direction and leveled out onto our bellies. Karen and Paul came flying up and I pulled Nick in tight for a mid air kiss. I could feel his energy through his lips. His raw excitement was magnetic. We flew together for a few more seconds, looking at the camera, waving our hands and smiling before I let him go.

The second we left the plane. Nick’s first taste of freedom in over 18 months. Photo by Karen Dalton

He flew in front of Karen, did the 360 we talked about, and smiled so big for the camera I thought his cheeks would fly off. I could tell he never wanted it to end. He was finally doing what he had always wanted to do. I was so proud.

The happiest dude EVER! Photo by Karen Dalton

At 5,000 feet he reached back and pulled his parachute, leaving me and Karen falling away from him to open our own. The view at Tsunami Skydivers in Oceanside is truly breathtaking. From altitude you can see Catalina and Big Bear and the glistening blue ocean below.

I followed Paul and Karen into the landing area and was greeted by the screams of all my friends. I screamed too, completely overwhelmed by the energy they were giving me.

Nick hung up there in the sky a while under his blue and grey Saffire2 209 canopy, all the while the star of the show. As he descended on his final approach the roar of the crowd escalated. People were cheering and cowbells were ringing! A giant blue tarp that read GET BUSY LIVING was sitting in the middle of the landing area and Nick aimed right for it. He landed safely, of course, just as he planned.

Nick coming in for his first landing. The crowd was going crazy at this point. Photo by Amanda Burgess

Just about to touch down, right next to the Get Busy Living banner that Candi and Jason made. Photo by Amanda Burgess

And he’s SAFE! A perfect slide-in landing that didn’t jar his back or his legs one bit. Photo by Karen Dalton

Everything that happened after he landed is pretty blurry for me except for one eternal second.

Our Top Gun moment.

This picture reminds me of my promise to Nick: We’re going to get through this together.

The scene after Nick’s landing. One of the happiest moments I’ve ever had.

Not quite everyone… but almost. We all had the after-jump glow! Photo by Amanda Burgess

Triumph after tragedy. Photo by Amanda Burgess

Ever since this day, I’ve been racking my brain to think of another point in my life where I was happier, more alive, and more in love. There isn’t one. For most women, their wedding day is the best day of their life. And maybe one day that will be true for me. But for now, I can say with every ounce of my soul that being by Nick’s side as he returned to skydiving, conquering an injury that stole so much from us and almost took his life, was the happiest day of my life. My cheeks and jaw hurt from the uncontrollable smile plastered on my face, and I was exhausted for days afterward. We’re still dwelling in the afterglow of that day, and reminiscing about what it took to get there.

Thank you to every single person who has supported us on our journey to get our lives back. To Nick’s family for their unwavering, selfless support. To everyone who gave part of themselves to make Nick’s recovery possible. To everyone who came to Tsunami Skydivers to watch Nick jump. And to Rich Grimm for believing in us.

Now go. Get Busy Living.

The days leading to Nick’s jump

The days leading to Nick’s first jump were chaotic, even if only in my mind. Just the organizing of the event had me running, let alone the filming of the movie, the multiple appointments to get Nick a new pair of legs, the friends coming to town, and the ironing out the safety concerns of the jump itself. We were busy!

A few days prior, we test jumped the rig and canopy Nick would be using for the jump and identified a minor adjustment that we needed to make. Watching Match land the canopy gave us a visual idea of what to expect for Nick’s landing, even though he did land downwind.

We wanted the jump day to be special for our friends and family, so we planned a BBQ and provided all the fixins. We rolled out of Costco with two carts full and barely fit everything into our car!

At Costco- with 150 burgers and buns and everything in between!

Our seriously funny and faithful friends the Avadikians (of Foot Transplant Video fame) made a special trip down from Nor Cal to stay the weekend with us and celebrate Nick’s jump. I won’t go into all the details, because frankly it’s still quite a mystery, but within an hour of their arrival, around midnight Thursday night, Nick and I were following an ambulance to the hospital. We joked that Nick would finally see what it’s like to go through the front door of a hospital emergency room. Turns out Doug is going to be okay, but we all got quite a scare. And instead of leisurely enjoying their company the day before the big jump, we were visiting with them in the ICU. Oh how the tables had turned. And just like before, when Nick was the one with the gown and the IV’s, we just couldn’t stop laughing, even if we were nervous about them not being discharged in time to see Nick’s jump.

Couldn’t help myself… the situation really WAS unbelievable!

On Friday, the day before the jump, Match came out to stay with us and record everything we did leading up to the jump, including prepping lettuce and onions for 150 burgers, packing Nick’s parachute, making signs for the Project Walk fundraiser, and even kissing each other good night.

While I was with the Avadikians at the hospital that afternoon, Nick and Match visited Cyrus to pick up his brand new legs! They fit perfectly and within moments it was obvious that his walking would now be more stable and less labored. Cyrus pulled some serious strings to get Nick’s new legs in time for Saturday. We are so grateful for his dedication! Instead of wrapping them in camo like his last two pairs, this time Nick went for traditional carbon fiber. They look so cool!

It’s been five days… I know

I acknowledge the absurdity of allowing five days to pass without taking the time to sit and write a blog post about Fener’s jump day.

I also acknowledge the absurdity of the picture below.

Triumph after landing

Aaaannndd… I can’t stop staring at this one. Proud! So so proud.

Nick, Carson, and Bri pre-jump

Nick made two skydives on Saturday. I was too pooped to go on the second one (bonafide adrenaline overdose), so Nick went with his buddy Carson. Karen filmed this jump as well, getting amazing footage and stills, and they both landed exclaiming that Nick still free flys better than them.

Pictured here with Fener and Carson is Bri, Nicks lead specialist at Project Walk. Her and her husband jumped for the first time earlier in the day, but Bri loved it so much she went for another tandem when Nick was doing his second jump.

Behind them is hanging the tarp our friends Candi and Jay made to lay in the landing area. GET BUSY LIVING!

Fener family

I love love love this pre-jump photo of the Fener family.
If you look closely, I look like an amputee too.
Photo by Amanda Burgess

Zach, Sandee, Nick, me, Seth, all in front of the jump plane at Tsunami Skydivers.

First jump preview

Saturday was HUGE! Like, Milky Way galaxy huge… at least in our little world.

Nick didn’t just jump once, he jumped twice. Two amazing freefalls, two soft, safe landings.

I have so much to say about Saturday, the hours leading up to it, and the hours spent recovering from it. But I’m still spent from this weekend and need a little more time to process before I can put these overwhelming feelings into words.

Don’t they say a picture is worth 1000 words? Well, here’s 3000, then.

Holding on tight. Photo by Karen Lewis

Nick’s landing from a distance. Photo by Idar Kvam.

SAFE!! Photo by Karen Lewis.

Jumping his own pack job

Nick is jumping in the morning! I am so overly happy for him and he’s actually feeling rather mellow about it. He’s staring in the eye of his ultimate goal and I don’t think it’s even hit him yet. Tomorrow he will wake up and carry out a goal he has been working toward for 18 months! And he’ll wake up Sunday morning as a skydiver again.

Nick getting injured was an accident, but him returning to the sky so quickly is not. He has been busting his balls every single day to get strong enough to jump again. He has exercised paralyzed muscles into existence again, building muscle where once there was no movement at all.

To me, his recovery is spectacular, and his determination is a miracle. If anyone deserves the satisfaction of a job well done, of achieving a hard-earned goal, and of finding happiness again in the face of adversity, it’s Nick Fener. I’m so indescribably proud of him.

Nick decided to pack his own parachute for the jump tomorrow. The process was fairly easy and methodical for him. A sub-15-minute pack job for a guy with no feet is pretty good.

Wide awake

Three hours after turning the lights out to go to bed, Nick is finally asleep.

Of course, I’m left wide awake and frustrated.

He had an electrifying phantom pain attack that kept him twitching and rubbing his stumps together, so much so that it shook the whole bed.

In my frustration and delirium I’ve come up with the idea of shooting Novocain straight into his stumps when these attacks start. Where can I get my hands on some?

This phantom shit is getting pretty fucking ridiculous. And it’s never going to go away.

Listening to old voicemails

I don’t know what possessed me to do so, but this morning while Nick was sleeping soundly next to me, I put in my headphones and listened to old voicemails from right after Nick’s accident. I’ve never done this before. Most of them I don’t remember ever receiving in the first place. I mean, I’m pretty sure I listened to them, but I don’t know if I really heard them. I listened to friends’ voices this morning that I don’t remember hearing since long before Nick’s accident, and some I was pretty sure never contacted me at all when they heard the news. Boy was I wrong! (One of these days I’ll go through the 1000+ blog messages and be utterly blown away!)

I’m chalking this up to being completely stressed out, overwhelmed, and consumed with hospital life stuff. But still, it doesn’t feel good to know I completely ignored people who reached out to me, who cared enough to call (or write!) to see how I was doing. I can say too, that I’m kind of a loner. Being raised as an only child, I thrive in silence and solitude, rather than clamor and conversation. That’s just how I work. Maybe that’s why I like to write; I get to “think out loud” in the silence.

The voicemails started my day today with love and happiness. I could feel the caring and urgency in my friends’ voices. I’m flooded with emotions just thinking how frustrating it must have been not knowing how to help. I know this blog kept people in the loop whom I just didn’t have time to personally connect with, but still, I can’t help but feel my own frustration for not making better effort to communicate directly.

Thank you. Thank you to everyone who reached out. Who leant us a hand, a smile, a heart. Who listened, or stood by waiting, who wrote encouraging words, or clicked “donate.” Thank you to the strangers we now call friends, and the friends we now call family. Thank you to everyone who made our journey just a little bit easier. And thank you for the forgiveness if I’ve carelessly put you aside while making sense of my own struggles. I’m sorry, but I’m grateful.

Our favorite gas station

Yet another late night, road-side prosthetist visit finds us at the local Shell station with Cyrus in order to get his new legs in time for the big jump on Saturday. He’s a dedicated dude who takes great pride in his work and extreme care of his patients. He’s pretty bad ass!

While waiting, Nick walked into the store for his favorite treat: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. King size. When he came back, a man walked up to our open car door and without saying hello or introducing himself asks, “Hey what happened to you?”

We were dumbfounded and awkwardly silent, so he asked it again, followed by an aggressive, “Are you okay?”

After Nick played dumb for a second and then introduced himself, the man, wearing a giant gold belt buckle and tight grey V-neck shirt succeeded in confusing the shit out of us.

“I saw you standing there but didn’t notice your legs. Then I saw them. You overcame that! You’re a staunch individual!”

Staunch. Hmmm. Haven’t heard it used in that context, but we’ll take it.

After he walked away, Nick summed it up perfectly, “You’ve gotta have some balls to just come up to a guy and ask what’s wrong with him.”

Favorite quote from Cyrus, “Gas stations are where I do my best work!”

“Get Busy Living” — We’re filming a documentary!

We think “Get Busy Living” is the obvious and perfect choice to title a documentary about our story. But we didn’t come up with it, Chris Burket did. Long time film maker and camera guru, “Match” as we affectionately call him, approached us in October about making our story his new project. Of course! And I couldn’t think of a better person to tell it.

Chris Burket aka “Match” is a natural behind the camera.

Within a week, he brought over a giant hard drive, and I gave him every single moment of footage I’ve shot since Nick’s accident. He began following us around to appointments and events, shooting interviews, and capturing some important moments leading up to Nick’s first jump back.

Nick and Match heading into Ballard Rehab to see his nurses and therapists for the first time since he was discharged in July 2011

Super stealth shot of Match taking video of Nick’s prosthestist appointment

Match, I mean Chris, is a fun and creative guy, and it’s been a neat experience working with him for the last several weeks. His vision is to close the documentary with the obvious climax of Nick returning to the sky by making his first jump this Saturday. He’s bringing a film crew to capture the entire experience, including strapping one of those hefty RED cameras to our camera-girl Karen’s head for the jump(s).

He expects to have a movie trailer complete by the end of the year, and a rough cut of the feature-length documentary by February. We are very excited for our story to hit the silver screen. Fener’s goin’ to Hollywood, baby!

He’s built a website to keep fans up to date on the progress of things.

GetBusyLivingMovie.com

If you want to check out Match’s other awesome work, his personal website is ChrisBurket.com

And lastly, of course, I HAD to make my OWN documentary about the documentary. Just couldn’t help myself. Below is a silly little impromptu interview I did with Match, where he tells us why he’s making the movie, and what his plans are for it. I told him I hope his editing skills are better than mine. Thanks for watching!

All dressed up…

The countdown is on. Only six sleeps until Project Jump!

Nick put on his jumpsuit and tried on our friend Match’s rig. Looks like he’s going to be all decked out Smurf-style for the big day this Saturday. Love it!

Next step: we’re waiting for the canopy to arrive from Icarus (a Saffire2 209) so we can go test jump the complete system a few days early. We want to see how it performs and lands with someone else underneath it, and be able to address any possible issues before sending Fener up for his first jump back in 18 months.

We are not taking this lightly, even though we have every ounce of confidence he will do great, have a blast, and land safely in order to make another jump. And another. And another…

Riverside County Board of Directors Meeting –Nov 25, 2012

Nick and I were honored to be invited to the Board of Directors meeting for Riverside County to honor RCRMC for their recent achievement of attaining certification as a Level 2 Trauma Center. We have no doubt that the trauma team at Riverside County Regional Medical Center is the reason why Nick is still alive today. They saved his life 18 months ago and we’ve maintained an awesome relationship with many people at that hospital. Nick was asked to be the “human interest” testimony to their expertise and jumped at the opportunity to help. Shoot, it was the least we could do. We’d like to do more.

Two weeks ago Nick sat down for an interview with them, and a week later, we were meeting some of the major players at RCRMC and reconnecting with the ones who saved his life.

The awesome people who make it happen at RCRMC. Boy do we stand out like a couple of sore thumbs.

Nick with Tommy and Robbie, the two amazing people who are helping Nick get back into the hospital and volunteer (hopefully!)
Tommy was with Nick in the ER the night of the accident and helped save his life. Forever grateful!

Front and center, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Mr. Bagley, the hospital CEO received the certificate and spoke at the meeting, then passed the microphone to Nick to tell about his experience with the trauma center. Nick had two main points he wanted to impart to the audience and Board of Directors: the trauma team’s quick and accurate assessment of his injuries and immediate mobilization to fix them is the reason he’s still alive, and the outstanding way the staff treated his family and friends with respect and dignity meant the world to him.

Congratulations RCRMC, you absolutely deserve this validation of a job well done. What an honor to be involved. Thank you so much.

Below is the press release written by Ray Smith, a Riverside County spokesman with a huge heart and fun sense of humor who came to our home with ChaiTae and Sean, who was on our case at the time.

===============

Skydiver’s survival tale highlights certification of county hospital’s trauma center

Skydiving instructor Nick Fener knows where he’d be without the trauma team at Riverside County Regional Medical Center.

“I wouldn’t be here to tell my story,” he says resolutely. “I was in the best place possible.”

While videotaping two skydivers who were on a tandem jump in May 2011, the right side of Fener’s parachute collapsed at about 100 feet and he hurtled to the ground in a corkscrew. At the county medical center in Moreno Valley, surgeons removed his ruptured spleen and treated two broken vertebrae, spinal-cord damage, broken ribs, and legs so devastated by fractures that one ankle disintegrated and Fener was missing three inches of shin bone. Several weeks later, surgeons amputated both legs below the knee.

Fener’s fiancée said the hospital staff not only saved his life, they helped her deal with the sleep deprivation, loneliness and fear she endured for more than a week while Fener lay in a coma.

“Their quick decision-making and assessment of Nick absolutely is why he survived,” Lindsay Showalter said.

That life-saving expertise was recognized recently when the American College of Surgeons confirmed the hospital as a Level II trauma center, the only such adult trauma center in Riverside County. Fener and Showalter are expected to attend tomorrow’s (11/27) presentation during the Board of Supervisors meeting in Riverside to recognize the certification by the College of Surgeons.

Trauma centers strive for the certification because it demonstrates a hospital’s ability and commitment to caring for severely injured patients. Staffed 24 hours a day, the trauma center admits more than 1,100 patients each year.

“We’ve committed significant resources to ensure we provide trauma patients the absolute highest quality of care,” said Dr. Arnold Tabuenca, the hospital’s chief medical officer. “This recognition validates our efforts.”

The College of Surgeons does not designate trauma centers but, rather, confirms that a center has demonstrated it provides the highest quality of care. The verification follows a site visit in June by a review team from the organization, which established the hospital’s trauma center designation through April 2014.

Today, support rails lining the hallway of the couple’s Menifee home are ready to come down. Fener walks around on aluminum and titanium legs, sometimes stumbling but rarely falling, and figures he’s about halfway through the physical recovery. Day by day, he inches toward a goal that some might think foolhardy – returning to work as a skydiving instructor.

One of his biggest steps comes in about a week when he will jump from a plane for the first time since the accident. With 4,200 jumps since 2001, Fener isn’t nervous about the next leap and anticipates “an old comfortable feeling” mixed with the elation of his first time.

“You’re falling 120 mile per hour to ground,” he said. “It’s such a rush.”

Fener and Showalter, also a skydiving instructor, look forward to a day when the accident does not define their lives. Ask where they will be in five years and Fener can’t say for sure. But the vision is that he will be skydiving full-time, enjoying life and traveling with Showalter.

“She’s my world,” he said.

Lindsay, Nick, and MIA. Photo by Ray Smith

Project Walk meets Project Jump!

“Doing what you love is the cornerstone of having abundance in your life.” –Wayne Dyer

It’s December 1st, the day Nick was going to jump, until we decided to push it back a week. The forecast was for rain today, and at the moment it’s overcast but will likely clear.

We’re still happy with our decision to wait another week because it gives us more time to plan for the fundraising efforts we’d like to make during the event.

Basically, we want Nick’s first jump back to be an event COMPLETELY OPPOSITE OF “FEET FOR FENER.”

Yes, the gathering will be because of Nick and his achievements, but we want the spirit of the day to be about helping other people.

If you plan to come watch Nick jump, please raid your pantry and bring some non-perishable food items to donate. The more the better! I just know you’ve got a can of beans or a box of rice you can stand to part with to help feed people who really need it this holiday season! Please bring a bare minimum of ONE item that day. The person who brings the most food items will get a prize, which may or may not be a giant hug!

We are also selling FENER shirts and stickers to raise money for the Project Walk Scholarship Fund! There are tons of people suffering from spinal cord injury who don’t have the support or funds to get specialized therapy at Project Walk. We are raising money to donate to the scholarship fund to help others who want to go to Project Walk but can’t afford it.

Because of our fundraising efforts, we have decided not to accept the kind offer of a group discount for tandem jumps, and instead take that $20 difference and donate it to Project Walk.

Tandem jumps are $209 and can be scheduled by calling 760-390-JUMP.

Nick vs legs

The funny position of Nicks legs when he sits without his prostheses is caused from an outward rotation of his hips. I think.

Nick is finally jumping again!

Nick and I have been ITCHING to make the formal announcement of his first jump back, something he’s been working toward for 18 months. A motivation so strong it’s kept him going through his darkest hours dealing with pain and the loss of so much. With a barrage of set-backs along the way, we are thrilled to say, “It’s HAPPENING!”

I’m sure many people think he’s foolish or crazy to jump again. We get the million dollar question often: Why? To us, him jumping again isn’t even a question. There hasn’t been a millisecond of time since Nick’s accident that he’s questioned skydiving again. It has always been a matter of when and how; not if or why.

But to people who don’t understand, who don’t jump, or who don’t know Nick, I realize that “Why?” is a legitimate question. Nick and I have talked about it a lot, I’ve heard him answer the question many times, and yet, I don’t think it’s something the English language could ever illustrate properly.

Nick has expressed himself in a variety of ways, saying things like, “It’s part of who I am. It’s my life. I love it. You don’t stop driving if you get in a car wreck. It’s like that moment you discover you can orgasm for the first time.” While these are solid, maybe a little too graphic answers, and certainly worthy of consideration, I’d like to take a stab at answering the question by making a more universal comparison. I may not have been hurt, but I was there living the nightmare with him, and I’ve since returned to the sport that stole so much from me. I understand where he’s coming from and support his return wholeheartedly.

Skydiving is a lot like love.

If you’ve jumped, you know what I mean. If you’ve been in love, think about it. Try explaining the feeling of being in love with someone… to a 6 year old. That ecstatic, heart-racing, toe-tingling, mind-numbing, nothing-else-matters, I-can’t-get-enough, want-to-feel-this-way-forever feeling when you’re falling in love for the first time.

You can’t describe love, even though poets and scholars have tried for centuries; you just have to feel it. Even after 2300 times, I still can’t put my finger on why it feels so good to jump out of a plane and fly through the air. Nick’s accident was like a mud-slinging, life-shattering, multiple affairs, no prenup, front-page-of-the-tabloids divorce, and now 18 months later he’s healed and ready to love and trust again.

All this to say:

NEXT Saturday, December 8th at Tsunami Skydivers in Oceanside, CA.

Everyone is welcome to come out and be a part of the celebration. We will be arriving early to prepare for the jump(s), and taking off around 12 noon. We will be Barbecuing for lunch, our treat. If you want something besides hamburgers, turkey burgers, or veggie burgers, bring it and we’ll throw it on the grill!

It will be a cozy, laid back atmosphere with lots of friends and fun.

We already have several tandem jumpers lined up to join us, including a few of Nick’s therapists. If you’d like to make your first jump, call their office and set it up in advance. Jumping over the beach in Oceanside offers the best views anywhere in Southern California. If Fener can do it, you can too!

To get a rough headcount for the BBQ, please message me or make a quick comment if you plan to come.

Thank you Rich Grimm and Tsunami Skydivers!

10 Ways to Affair-Proof Your Marriage…

Nick and I have always had a relationship of steel. It’s come naturally, and we know how lucky we are. But even so, it’s a choice and it’s work.

Blessed to be lucky in love… through the good times, and the bad.

A dear friend sent me this article that, in my opinion, accurately describes what it takes to be happy with someone long term. What it takes to keep your partner fulfilled and faithful for the long haul.

With lots of love to all my friends; single, committed, or confused. Give this a read, absorb it, and share it with those you love.

Read here: 10 Ways to Affair -Proof Your Marriage by Samantha Parent Walravens

 

Home Depot experience

A funny young girl checked us out at Home Depot. Well, she wasn’t checkin’ us out, even though we are quite a spectacle, she just rung up our items and took our payment.

She wore a pair of white Vibram shoes, the ones with the separated toe slots. Nick asked her if they were comfortable and if she thought they’d be comfortable for him too. Without missing a beat, without blushing or stumbling on her words, she said, “Yeah, why not?”

Then we all got a good laugh visualizing Nick slicing his fused plastic toes apart with a knife and cramming them into his own pair of Vibrams. Size 12. And since he’s getting his new set of feet tomorrow morning, we could easily make this joke a reality with these current, outdated feet.

Home Depot homegirl gave Nick an over-excited high five and a “Hell yeah!” with the news of getting his new feet tomorrow.

Hell yeah! High five!

36 hours in the desert

We spent a whole day and a half out in the desert over Thanksgiving weekend. You know what’s cool about that?

Everything!

I can chalk it up to a totally crucial WIN for Fener. He used to be a desert rat, spending holidays and every other weekend either in Glamis, Barstow, or Ocotillo for years. That is, until skydiving burst into his life. But even then, he (we) went to the desert all the time. He even bought me my own quad to ride back in 2006.

This weekend, we rolled into a camp full of friends and blended right in. There was very little talk of, or focus on Nick’s injuries. We didn’t speak much of his accident or therapy, or catheters, or pain, or prostheses. Well, maybe a little. But come on, that’s part of our “new normal.” What I’m saying is we got to have a blast despite all that. And there was never any waiting for Fener. He never held up the program. Never the weakest link. He held his own.

We slept in a tent, sat by a fire, rode in a buggy and ate lunch in a shady crevice in the middle of a vast desert. We laughed with friends, lit fireworks, roasted marshmallows (me, not Nick), and came home content with being caked with dirt from head to (prosthetic) toe.

The only modification we made was the toileting situation. Nick had to use a friends trailer, no longer able to “rough it” like me or you. Other than that, we were good to go. It was just more work for me than it ever used to be, loading and unloading everything. But I’m totally fine with it. May as well get used to it. That’s our “new normal.”

Ridin’ in Dave’s buggy. Nick sat on his wheelchair cushion and it made all the difference in the world.

Some seriously awesome people. Me, Theresa, Dave, Mike, Fener, Jason, and Todd. We had such a great time. Thank you so much everyone for the help and hospitality.

Gratuitous sleeping shot. Couldn’t help myself. He was sound asleep, twitching away, snug as can be in the tent. What a relief that he can be comfy on an air mattress. Who’ddathunk?

 

I included this one of Nick in the buggy because I think it shows Nick’s handsomeness… even though his Blue Steel needs a little work.

Thanksgiving 2012

Here’s Fener carving the turkey at Mom’s house, with Paul cheering him on.

What a difference a year makes. I don’t really remember Thanksgiving last year, life was still unsettled and turbulent.

This year at Mom Fener’s, Nick climbed the stairs on his own, was able to finally use the guest bathroom, carved the turkey, avoided a post-feast nap, took minimal pain meds, helped me make a yummy sweet potato dish and cleaned up afterward, and when we left he got behind the wheel and drove two hours into the desert, allowing me to digest the meal I ate that could have fed an entire village. Who am I kidding? It could have ended world hunger. And it was delicious! Thank you Mama.

We made a last minute decision to join the extended Nootbaar clan for a day and a half in the desert. So here we are, in our green, triangular Coleman tent in Ocotillo Wells, enjoying the perfect weather, big bonfire smell, clear starry sky, random fireworks, and the “braaap braaaap braaaaaap” of dirt bikes in the distance.

Holy smokes am I grateful! We just passed the 18 month mark since the accident, and if you told me a year ago that we’d be camping in the desert over Thanksgiving holiday the way we used to, I’d have said you were out of your fucking mind.

But here we are… slowly, but surely, getting our life back together. And not just any life: the amazing life we used to have, minus the convenience of pristine health and the naiveté of untraumatized youth.

Thank you to EVERYONE who has helped us along the way. Physically, emotionally, financially… we have not made it this far by ourselves, and would have long since crumbled without the immense and unfathomable kindness and dedication from our friends and family, and strangers too.

We love you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you… times ten million!

Unusual fitting

Unorthodox after-hour prostheses fitting with Cyrus. I know it appears as if he’s baking us cookies, but he was actually slaving away to get Nicks new sockets juuuuust right. It’s so cool having a reliable, overachieving prosthetist who is also fun to be around.

Look at the new legs! Well, these are the temporaries, but it’s a completely new system. He’ll be testing these out for a week before the permanent ones are made. He loves them already!

An open letter to Nick Fener

Dear Nick,
I promise to love you even when you look as old as the shelf life of a Hostess Twinkie (RIP). I promise to love you even when your skin is saggy and wrinkled like a Chinese Shar Pei.

I hope you can do the same for me.

Love,
Your blushing bride-to-be
Lindsay

Window washing workout

Nick Fener is such a sweetheart… with poor timing.
Moments later it began to sprinkle, and then a bird shit right in the middle of the windshield.

Sad on my Mom’s birthday

Today I am particularly sad, the saddest I’ve felt in a while.

November 16th has been a distinctly mournful day for me for five years now, as I struggle to find a way to honor my Mother’s Birthday without her. This year, her birthday does little but remind me of her absence. It magnifies the hole in my heart that no other person, activity, or pint of Ben & Jerry’s could ever fill. A hole so immense, in my worst moments of loneliness and confusion since Nick’s accident, I thought I would fall in and evaporate into nothingness.

I miss my Mommy, and the safety and wholeness I felt when she was around. For eight years before her death, she was a burden to me unlike anything I would wish upon another, but the burden was all mine. It was my identity, my knowingness, my home. I’ve never fully recovered from losing her, having only three brief years of healing and floundering, attempting to make sense of who I am in relation to my Mom’s illness and death, until the day I became what happened to Nick, 18 months ago.

Today I reflect on the impossible but delightful thought that I could have hugged her when I worried most about Nick and our future. I crave the comfort in our silence, the innocence of her raspy laughter, and her familiar loving eyes staring into my soul when I talked. I realize that logistically she couldn’t be alive today. I couldn’t stretch myself so thin to care for both her and Nick simultaneously. Sadly I know she would have lost, despite her being my first love: my infinite desire to rehabilitate Nick being anything but a burden, my hopeful future with him overshadowing the painful past dealing with her.

Happy Birthday to my Mom. She would be 68 today. One of her greatest gifts was teaching me how to love unconditionally and be a selfless, persevering caregiver, skills I’ve undoubtedly refined and put to good use.

Here’s a video I am conflicted about sharing. I surprised her with a motorized wheelchair in February of ’06. She never got the hang of it unfortunately, and ended up passing away just two years later. But the very end of this clip, when she exclaims “FAR OUT!” is so precious to me. That raw excitement was rare for her. I’m so grateful to have captured this moment on camera.

Legs off

There’s something about this photo…
it’s so…
unapologetic.

The fitting

Another step in the right direction for Mr. Fener. Cyrus made casts of his stumps today and they decided on the right feet for Nicks situation. All eyes on Nicks legs. Just don’t tell his heart, his achy breaky heart.

Broken down stumps

Nick’s had his legs for a year now, and what a ride it’s been. He’s had two sets made due to the rapid and drastic changes that an amputee experiences in the year or so post-surgery. A lot has happened in the last year, prostheses wise. We’ve spent hours upon hours at the various Hanger offices around Southern California: Murrieta, Riverside, Redlands, Hemet, depending where his prosthetist is at that particular day. We’ve built a relationship with one amazing prosthetist, only to lose him to a promotion, to then (thankfully) fall in love with another guy.

We’ve made emergency, same-day appointments to solve issues that, as a new amputee, we could never anticipate or prepare for. Just last week we met his prosthetist at a gas station on the side of the road for a quick adjustment and assessment. Nick has invested countless hours into research and reading about prosthetic feet, ankles, and sockets, combing YouTube and manufacturer websites for information and ideas.

And here we are, we’ve made it one year. Four metal legs later, it turns out the journey is just beginning. Tomorrow we will go to the Hemet office where he will be fitted for his third set of legs.

The last few weeks have been tough for the health of Nick’s stumps. His legs are now too big for him, and have been adjusted and modified several times, essentially just slapping a bandaid on an unfixable problem. The skin on the front of his stumps has opened up. He’s been bleeding for a few days now and tonight we’ve decided he HAS to keep off his feet for several days to allow the wounds to heal. He’s getting fitted for the new set tomorrow, but won’t actually receive them for about two weeks.

For the first time in a month, I grabbed the wheelchair out of the car and brought it inside the house so he can give his poor stumps a break. I’m afraid that if they get worse we’ll be facing a much more serious problem. And at this point, we just can’t jeopardize his skydive, which is happening in a little over two weeks.

So tonight is bitter sweet, with the anticipation of lighter, better fitting legs, contrasted with the sad truth that he is taking another mini step backward in the process.

Nick’s poor stump. Unfortunately he has a pair of these. The end of his tibias have no fatty tissue or muscle protecting them, so they rub against the inside of his current ill-fitting sockets with every move he makes. Eventually, they began to break the skin down and poke holes through his rubber liners. Time for new legs!

Working hard

“I’ve been working really hard lately, and I’m just now getting to the point where I feel like I’m getting ahead.” –Fener talking to a friend on the phone while on our way home from Project Walk today, in a surprisingly minimal amount of pain.

And here’s a shot from therapy today: a move he couldn’t do even a few short months ago.

“With the birds…

…I share this lonely view.”

Such a beautiful day to have a spare hour to spend at the beach between appointments. Words can’t contain it’s perfection.

Amputee Running Clinic Video

Here’s a super cool video of Nick at his first amputee running clinic, shot a few weeks ago on October 20th.

 

iFly Hollywood – tunnel time!

In preparation for Nick’s first skydive, in less than a month, we took a trip up to Hollywood for Nick to practice his free fall skills in the iFly tunnel.

Nick gearing up. Perfect standing photo op.

All dressed up, ready to fly. I was worried about him sitting on that hard bench for so long, but I think the adrenaline and excitement overshadowed his nerve pain.

Nick surprised us all by having such a solid body position.

Nick worked on back flying and sit flying toward the end of his session. His quads aren’t strong enough to push down and hold him in an upright position, but he’s close! Just standing in the air stream like this is hard work.

My favorite shot of Nick and Travis debriefing.

Nick flew a total of 15 minutes, late at night after a long day and a long drive. Afterward he said he could have flown even longer. He was minimally sore the next day, but I think that’s from sleeping it off for 11 reparative hours. That, and he’s quickly gaining endurance.

He’d like to fly in the tunnel at least one more time before the big jump, which is happening on Saturday December 1st.

Watching Nick fly in the tunnel, smiling hard but flying even harder, choked me up a few times. I felt proud, like his stunning accomplishments were my own, even though I know I’d have never made it this far if I were the hurt one.

 

Paying a visit

What a day! We had to cancel Nicks regularly scheduled therapy at Project Walk because his stumps are getting rubbed raw from his prostheses. They opened up last night, making it obvious he needed to get some adjustments.

If you look closely you will see raw skin where his tibia ends at the bottom of his stumps.

“Prostheses adjustments while you wait” means plenty of time for goofing off. Wait til you see the video of Fener’s “amputee pole dancing!”

Since we had to be in Redlands for that emergency appointment, we decided to swing by his old rehab hospital in San Bernardino. Good ol’ Ballard! I lived in that parking lot for a month and got to know the town quite well. It felt good today when I couldn’t remember how to get there and we had to map the directions. That means I’m gaining emotional separation from that time in our lives.

We got to see Nicks amazing therapist Jon, who was responsible for getting him up and out of the hospital so soon. We saw our friend Lori, and a few of Nicks favorite nurses, Karen and Denise.
It felt so good to say thank you to these people now that some of the dust has settled and we can see more clearly what a pivotal role they played in Nicks recovery.

Lower back extensions

At Project Walk on Monday, here is Nick doing work to strengthen his lower back. Unable to raise up by himself, another trainer braced Nick to give him enough support to effectively carry out the exercise. After a few reps he was spent. Such a great exercise for his body.

Election Day Fall

Nick and I voted today. Would’ve been a shame to waste our right to vote, considering there are people in other parts of the world who would give anything to have a say in their country’s politics, especially women. And if I was this age a mere hundred years ago in this country, I’d have been fighting for my right too.

So today, we voted, and it felt good.

We parked right in the front, there was no line whatsoever, we were prepared with our ballot selections ahead of time. Super easy! That is until Nick got up from his chair to turn in his ballot. His rigid ankle hooked the chair leg. The room was quiet when he hit the floor, face first with a loud bang, the carbon fiber prostheses knocking hard on the tile. A uniform gasp from the dozen or so people was louder than the fall.

Two men ran over immediately and helped pick him up, saying kind words about him being so young and how sad they were that he has to live this way. Nick brushed it of like a champion though, not embarrassed a bit. He walked away unhurt and unaffected, assuring me that being embarrassed would be futile. “I’m going to be falling down for the rest of my life. I’d better accept it.”

After all this time, he’s still my hero.

Fener snowboard

Look what our friend Bernie had made for this years riding season! Such a cool tribute.

Note: this board is not for Nick to ride. It’ll be a few more seasons before Nick braves any sort of snow sport, me thinks.

“Steps to Recovery” photo recap

Sorry y’all… I don’t feel like writing about how insanely cool the Steps event was at Project Walk last weekend. It was pretty epic. Definitely one of those events where you just had to be there.

Smiles. Tears. High fives. Triumphs. Family. Friends. Achievement. (More tears.)

I have no pictures of Nick on the red carpet, only video, which I’ll edit and share later. Maybe.

Nick stretching out before his trek down the red carpet, enjoying the company of his Dad.

From the back of the room, the crowd having lunch and listening to the Project Walk introductions.

Our friend Match came down to shoot some video of the event, and well, get up close and personal with Nick’s nubs too.

Our friend Ashley on the red carpet with her die hard dedicated father. Check out that crowd!

This is Russ, “The Nicest Guy You’ll Ever Meet”, making his walk down the red carpet.

We were so grateful to have Nick’s Dad and brother come share this amazing event.

Nick with Bri, the best trainer in the entire universe!

Project Walk staff posing for a group picture. Such a great group of people.

Machine gun foot

Now this is what I call a real man’s leg!

Challenged Athletes Triathlon 2012

I keep calling it the Challenged Athletes Triathlon, but technically it’s called the San Diego Triathlon Challenge. There were plenty of “able bodied” folks competing right along side the many “challenged athletes.” We spent the day down at La Jolla Cove where all the action was taking place. There were so many vendors. Lots to see and do. We met so many amazing people. The vibe was just incredible.

My favorite new friend we met was a dude who reminded me so much of Nick it was scary. He’s a bilateral below knee amputee from a freak accident involving an 80 fall. Like Nick he wasn’t just an amputee. Instead of a spinal cord injury, he suffered a traumatic brain injury and lost sight in one eye. He was so open and friendly with us and had a personality that made us feel at home. He was handsome, and when I stood back I thought the two of them could easily be brothers. We spent a lot of time talking prosthetics, duh, and Nick and I got some great info from him. His legs fit him perfectly and you could really tell by the way he stood and walked so naturally, further inspiration to get Nick into a different prostheses system.

Not only was the actual triathlon taking place all day, there was a separate 5K race, a special kids run, and a huge stage with a couple hundred spin bikes and hand cycles set up for a FOUR HOUR ride!

Four hours of spin!

Nick took this valuable opportunity to meet and pick the brains of the myriad prosthetic vendors at the event. Everybody was eager to share their knowledge and opinions with Nick to assist him in making the best decisions possible in the near future when he changes up his legs again.

Nick discussing feet at the Ossur tent. Nick currently has feet made by Ossur.

I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it appears that Nick is caressing a prosthetic hand.

 

We also ran into a friend.

Nick with Shelby and cutie pie Pickles

After about two hours, Nick desperately needed to lay down, and wanted to get out of the crowds. So we made our way to a grassy area on the far side of the action and relaxed for a bit. There was a very interesting fellow there playing with the pigeons. He trained them to fly circles and land on his fingers. He gave us some sunflower seeds and showed us how. I was surprised by their weight and the warmth of their feet. Very cool experience!

Nick playing with pigeons. Not a single bird shit on us either. Score!

And we also got to play with my beautiful cousin Kim, her rockstar hubster Chris, and their adorable kids. Hanging with them made my day.

All smiles, even though it started raining.

 

Challenged Athletes running clinic

We’re down in the La Jolla area this weekend for the Challenged Athletes Triathlon and other awesome related events.

Today, one of the largest prosthetic foot manufacturers, Ossur, hosted an amputee running clinic. Our idea was to spectate, socialize, meet other amputees, and gain knowledge. But how peculiar that Nick ran for the first time in therapy yesterday and then found himself at a running clinic today. So, of course, he had to participate.

He did a few trips back and forth down the lane before throwing in the towel from exhaustion and hopping back in his chair. Watching his first attempt at running this morning brought me to tears. It was more of a fast walk than a run, but there were a few steps where Nick launched a little bit off his hind leg. It was amazing!

Dozens of inspiring amputees were learning and improving their gait with the help of volunteer therapists and trainers. Children and adults from all walks of life were pushing their limits, and the kids were particularly cute and awesome.

I spent time chatting with a single amputee Paralympic volleyball player who played in London this year. I watched a double amputee, three-time Paralympic medalist train people how to take off sprinting from a starting block. And I got inspiration from a woman who was the first woman amputee to complete the Kona Iron Man triathlon.

We met a kid who lost his legs above the knee eleven months ago who is learning to run on running blades. Seeing him run and get around on his springy legs made Nick say, “Dang, I need to get my shit together.” Well, I think Fener is doing pretty awesome considering he’s battling a spinal cord injury as well. Like we’ve said before, he’d probably be competing in the triathlon tomorrow if he didn’t shatter his lower vertebrae.

The vibe at the running clinic was nothing but pure hope, excitement, and unity. Everyone was cheering for everybody else’s accomplishments. I’ve never seen anything like it.

I took lots of video and will share it soon. Tomorrow we’re off to watch the main event: the 1 mile swim, 44 mile bike ride, and 10 mile run. Yikes! I couldn’t do that right now, and I have both my legs. They will also have a kids race, a stationary bike race for those not able to ride the street course, and wheelchair races.

We bumped into a friend from Project Walk while at the Tri Registration event at the Challenged Athletes Foundation headquarters. He’s been training for five weeks to hand cycle the bike course as an individual event. So inspiring!

Here’s Nick after the running clinic: asleep as his head hit the bed. Didn’t even make it onto a pillow!

Nick is RUNNING!

Have you guys seen this yet? Have you seen this shit? Oh my god! Nick Fener just surprised the hell out of me today. He surprised himself.

Check out this video of Nick running for the first time since his accident. On the eve of the 17 month accident-versary, he pushes himself harder than he ever thought possible and runs at 6 MPH. He is strapped into a hanging harness and holding on with a vulcan death grip to the handrail, but he’s FREAKING RUNNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Project Walk – Steps to Recovery Event – coming up Saturday 10/27/12

Nick is deeply honored to be a part of a very special event happening next weekend at Project Walk.

 

It’s the 8th Annual Steps to Recovery Event, and Nick will be walking down a red carpet, showcasing his progress, along with many of his friends at Project Walk.

The event is open to friends and family, there will be food and beer and lots of happy hearts and dedicated souls. The event is to raise funds, raise awareness, and most importantly raise spirits. All are welcome.

They are also broadcasting the event live on this website: http://www.livestream.com/steps2recovery

Daily stretch

This is Nicks first stretch of the day, just about every day. I took this shot this morning right as he got into this position.

It’s taken him a year to finally get his knees fully straight first thing in the morning. At first he couldn’t get them straight. And then once he could, it would take a lot of time to get there each day.

Now, at almost 17 months, he can finally stretch his legs straight straight away.

I just love seeing the signs of his slow and steady improvement.

The winter of your life

I spent time with my 79 year old Dad today talking about the various misfortunes in his lifetime. This was the third or fourth conversation of its kind this year. These conversations are brand new to me. Never before has he felt this comfortable with me to discuss his life with such candor. Nick and I are loving it.

But tonight I am left with a haunting recurring thought.

What must it feel like to be in the winter of your life?

At 31, if I’m to have a long life like my Dad, I am merely in the spring, still blooming. If I’m to have a long life, I have plenty of time to fulfill my dreams and make my contributions to this world.

But what if I’m in the winter or fall of my life and I don’t know it? What would it feel like to find myself at the end and still not be satisfied? Whether with a life cut too short, or one dragged out, drenched with mediocrity, and drowned in remorse for dreams unrealized.

I develop a headache whenever I try to prioritize the ways I’d like to invest my time to make the world a better place. I suffer from analysis paralysis.

Unlike me, Nick doesn’t have the overwhelming primal longing to leave a legacy and create something that will make a positive impact on our world. I can’t shake it, and not knowing how much time I have to figure it out is a scary, scary thought.

Your thoughts? How do you handle these morbid emotions?

Fear and Loathing in the ER

Nick fell asleep while waiting to be released from the ER on Tuesday. This is my visual interpretation of what happened.
A visitor:

A warp zone:

No Spleen Nick is getting a little better

What a whirlwind life can be. We all have our ups and downs though, don’t we? And when you’re strapped in tight, it’s hard to feel anything but the nausea of your own ride.

We only spent 10 hours at the ER on Tuesday. We didn’t beat our personal best of 8 hours, but came close enough for some level of satisfaction. Being in the ER is exhausting. Beeping, crying, puking. The smells, the grime.

The waiting.

We left with no definitive answer to Nick’s problem. Could be the flu. Could be anything. Elevated white blood cell count (duh) and symptoms that could point to a myriad of illnesses.

I originally feared meningitis. That was the primary motivation for hopping out of bed at 3:30AM and driving 30 minutes in the dark to our beloved Riverside County Regional Medical Center (our own little slice of Cheers!). Although his neck was sore and a little bit stiff, it wasn’t “stiff enough” to point directly to meningitis. The doctor suggested doing a spinal tap on Nick to test his spinal fluid for the bacteria anyway though. She was very ambiguous about the test, leaving it completely up to us. We eventually declined the “uncomfortable” test when Nick began responding well to anti-nauseal medicines, fluids, pain meds, and IV antibiotics.

Yesterday he was still in a bad way all day, spending most of it in bed, faithfully taking Tylenol every few hours to control the fever and painful eyes.

Today is a completely different story though. No more fever and only a slight headache in the temple and eyes. He’s really foggy though. Mentally he isn’t quite right. He’s slow and visibly strained, having what he calls “flashes” of hallucination. His dizziness has subsided though, so we haven’t completely ruled out the possibility of therapy at Project Walk tomorrow.

I really hate living like this now. I know, everyone gets sick. The flu is “going around.” I get it. But what used to be a rare minor inconvenience is now cause for alarm for No Spleen Nick.

County emergency room – hangin’ with the sickies

At 3:30 AM Nick had a fever of 103.7. By 4:00 AM we were in the car heading toward the ER at county hospital.

Totally awesome adventure 2012.

Nicks spleen was removed the night of his accident to save his life. People without spleens are at a greater risk of sepsis when their immune system is compromised.

With a sudden onset of fever, intense headache, and out of control heart rate, with no other flu-like symptoms, we couldn’t risk waiting until morning.

You’d think the ER would be a ghost town on a random Tuesday at 4AM. Nope. Wrong. We’ve been here two hours, there are nine people ahead of us and they’ve only called back one person so far.

Nick was getting so dizzy he thought he was going to fall out of his wheelchair, so he’s now laying in the back seat of the car waiting. I get to hang with all the coughing, sneezing, crying, puking Sickies to be sure we don’t miss his name being called.

Life is so weird.

Watching night swoops

Nik and Nick watching friends do pyrotechnic night swoops through tunnels of spraying water. Chicks Rock!

Grump sesh

The ugly, painful side of Nick’s spinal cord injury has been bothering him lately. Even though he’s battled through a lot of his paralysis to learn to walk again, he still deals with the invisible complications on a daily basis. Nobody ever thinks about the miracle of their intestinal system until it isn’t working properly anymore.

Nicks intestines do not work. A normal person experiences peristalsis, the contraction of muscles that pushes food through the digestive track. Not Nick, the nerve damage from his spinal cord injury causes his body to stop pushing food and waste along once it gets past his stomach. That’s a lovely mental picture, isn’t it?

Apparently we don’t have it all figured out either. In the last year he’s been to the hospital three times with intestinal blockage. And now twice in the last week, he has been up all night with severe abdominal pain and nausea. He was up all night last night, spending most of the time with his head hanging over the bed into a trashcan. We discussed many times whether to suck it up and go to the ER, but there were signs that he is not completely blocked, just backed up. After pushing on his tender belly for several hours, the pain slipped away as the sun began to rise.

I’m sharing this out of frustration more than anything. When it’s 5 am and you’re still awake, dealing with a fucked up complication that will NEVER go away, because an incident outside of Nick’s control occurred during a split-second of time almost a year and a half ago… dot, dot, DOT!

…

You catch my drift? Maybe I should still be sleeping like Nick is. Someone is grumpy over here.

Having fun again

We had great friends in town this weekend. When they left this evening, Nick said to me, “I fucking love Doug and Kim. They’re fucking awesome. Those are some goooooooood friends.” Can’t you just hear his voice when you read that? I couldn’t have said it better myself.

The occasion was an annual 4-day skydiving party called Chicks Rock Boogie at Skydive Elsinore. We joined them for a few hours on Friday afternoon and a few hours on Saturday afternoon. That’s about all Nick could take. What an amazing time seeing old friends from all over. Nick was warmly welcomed. Similar to the Feet for Fener party last year, Nick was constantly surrounded by friends wanting to catch up. He said it felt so good to be so loved.

Being at the dropzone, socializing and having fun for two consecutive days was such a wonderful change of pace for us. Sometimes it’s hard to swallow our new schedule of doctors appointments and therapy, errands and required rest, daily tasks of our new, more complicated life and navigating the details of Nick’s injuries. Despite our commitment to having a good attitude and trying to live a happy life in the face of a world turned upside down, we find ourselves no longer prioritizing fun the way we used to.

Life is supposed to be fun. If you’re not having fun, make what you’re doing fun. That’s how I’ve always done it. But this accident has really challenged that ideal for me. For both of us. Somehow, having fun has become a luxury we only allow ourselves once in a while. It’s a privilege. I want to change this. I’ve been told by several friends that they’re surprised we don’t spend more time at the dropzone. I’m not. I’ve got many more “important” things to do.

But how come having fun can’t be important again? It can be. And eventually, it will be.

Basketball drills

Nick getting ready to do some basketball drills at Project Walk.

Work out pics from Project Walk

Nick shaved his head and got rid of the rats nest on his chin. Oh Happy Day!

Lots of intense work at Project Walk today. His high knees were super high!

He did crouching side steps too.

1st Annual Family Reunion

Nick at my 1st Annual Family Reunion… fitting in nicely with his red Icarus shirt.

Nick came with me to the 1st Annual Fraser-Showalter family reunion. I feel so blessed to be accompanied in life by such a wonderful man.

After such an awful day yesterday, I was surprised at how awesome he did today. He sat up for a long time, and trucked it around the party with only one hiking pole. He managed to stay upright and social for several hours before finally taking a nap. He fell asleep under a pool table during the showing of old family home videos from when my Dad was a baby. 75 year old footage! I didn’t know they had cameras back then.

The reason everyone is wearing red is because each branch of the family was assigned a different color to wear. My Dad’s branch (he’s on Nick’s left) was red, if you hadn’t noticed. His sister Pat’s branch was blue, and his brother Hollis’ branch was green. I really enjoyed being able to identify everyone based on the color they were wearing, especially because it’s been years since I’ve seen a lot of these family members, if ever at all. I thought it odd to be “meeting people” at my family reunion, but I think a lot of families are like that. Everyone’s got at least one cousin they don’t know. Right? Some of us just have more than others.

Nick’s as much a part of my family as I am, and everybody treats him as such. I’m very grateful to have that love and acceptance of my partner. But honestly, who doesn’t like Nick?

A captive audience for the various Showalter/Frasers who got up to tell stories and introduce their own families to the crowd.

Double whammy pain

Nerve pain is a serious problem for people with spinal cord damage. Phantom pain is a serious problem for amputees. Nick’s got both.

Today is day 4 of a super gnarly phantom sensation onslaught. Constant, day and night, no letting up, his left foot has been giving him intense and often unbearable sensations of pins and needles. Constant. But this evening he had about an hour without them, for the first time in four days, so we are just hoping this is a move in the right direction. Finally.

It’s odd, most people with spinal cord injuries experience a lot of pain. This is the exact opposite of what most people would think. No feeling, no pain, right? Wrong! It’s a really fucked up situation because I think most people feel like they could deal with the aftermath of their injury so much better if they weren’t in so much pain all the time. I know that’s how Nick and several of his friends feel.

And I know most amputees get that way without receiving a nerve block 24 hours before losing their limb(s). Nick and I didn’t learn about that option that has been proven to prevent phantom pain until months later. How awesome is that? All this pointless suffering caused by the feet he no longer has could have been prevented!

Pain. That’s the life of an injured man, I guess. But it still fucking sucks.

Foot rest

I know, this one wins “Weirdest Photo on the Blog” award… for sure.
It’s a foot rest made from a MIA burrito, only there are no feet and the dog is totally smooshed and loving it.
Welcome to the oddity I call My Life.

Target those obliques!

Nick’s first session with Eric since his return to Project Walk. Sept 21, 2012

I love seeing Nick drenched with sweat after a killer workout at Project Walk. This was their final exercise of the two hour session. Eric tried everything to get Nick’s obliques, and finally found something that worked.

Eric held down Nick legs, and leading with a weighted arm Nick pulled his upper body to the opposite knee. The crunch was small because his lower back doesn’t bend very well, but they finally achieved the resistance. Nick’s going to be sore tomorrow buddy.

Taylor Morris – Nick Fener’s hero

It’s remarkable how certain stories catch our eye and we instantly develop an emotional attachment. The other day Nick’s Mom shared a link on her Facebook page titled A Love Story in 22 Pictures that touched mine and Nick’s life very deeply.

The link tells the story of Taylor Morris, a soldier severely injured overseas just 5 months ago, and his girlfriends undying support. To say the very least: we can relate.

That evening Nick spent a few hours reading through Taylor and Danielle’s story. They share the kind of love that Nick and I do, and when I look at their pictures I can see the familiar pain in their eyes that is impossible to hide, even with the most sincere feelings of gratitude and love.

Long after I fell asleep Nick was still reading. He sent Taylor an email, feeling compelled to reach out and let them know they’re not alone, how inspirational they are, and that he’s here to “relate” with if Taylor wants.

This simple gesture of kindness is not new to us. We were contacted by thousands of people after Nick’s accident. Many, many friends from our past came forward to offer support, and just as many strangers outstretched their compassion as well. We got so many emails and blog messages that I just couldn’t keep up. There were so many unanswered emails, I just couldn’t seem to keep everything in order.

Two days after sending that email to Taylor, Nick got a personal reply back from Danielle thanking him for his support. Wow. Their story went viral, reaching hundreds of thousands of people, many of whom sent emails, and Danielle took her precious time to write Nick back. I’m floored. I know they have a friend weeding through emails, so only some get through to Taylor and Danielle, but still, I know she has a lot on her plate, and I’m really impressed that she took the time to connect.

Taylor and Danielle. Cutest couple award?

Today marks 16 months since Nick’s accident and life is getting a lot easier. I wouldn’t want to go back in time to the 5 months mark where Taylor and Danielle are. No way. But what I do wish, is that I could push rewind and make a bigger priority of responding to and thanking our supporters who sent emails, cards, and donations.

I know I’ve said Thank You a hundred different ways on my blog, but that just can’t quite compare to the feeling of a heart felt, personal thank you like the one Nick received from them. Thank you friends, because without you, we wouldn’t have made it… and I hope you all know that. We love you!

True Love. Captured by the talented Amanda Burgess

Before hitting Submit on this blog post, I stumbled across this awesome story of Taylor’s homecoming as told by his best friend (make sure you have tissues handy). I’m just flooded with emotion right now. Their story is so beautiful.

Don’t throw it!

Believe it or not, THIS is therapy. Strong man Nick Fener lifted his wheelchair over his head.

I think this was Bri’s idea, although it screams of Fener’s ferocity. The chair is around 25 pounds. It’s not terribly heavy, but it’s cumbersome. The balance required for Nick to pull this off is impressive to me.

The CVAC is NOT a therapy

Technically (and legally, I suppose) they cannot market the CVAC as a therapy because they haven’t paid the bucks for the research and trials.At this point in time it’s considered a “work out.”

Well, whatever the hell it is, we think it’s working. It just so happens that Nick is making great physical progress lately, since regularly using the CVAC. His cardiovascular endurance and recovery time are both rapidly improving. That’s exactly what the CVAC claims to help with.
Coincidence?

Hmmmm…

Ouch – weighted sit-ups

I think he did six. Amazing work for not using his core for two months!

Squats – the secret to a great butt

A vest with cables attached = clever squats

The folks at Project Walk are superbly creative.

Attack of the spinal cord injury sneak attack

This morning we had a spinal cord injury sneak attack. That’s what I call it anyway, and I’m sure most people with SCI can relate. Just when you think things are going great, and you’re feeling good for a few days (or weeks!), some crazy, unexpected side effect pops up to fuck your morning (or day, or week) all up.

Nick woke me up at 6am by panting and groaning. His stomach was seizing, stabbing pains caused him to writhe uncontrollably back and forth on the bed. Last night he complained that his stomach didn’t feel right, wondering what I put in his salad, but his stomach “doesn’t feel right” a lot of the time so we didn’t think much of it.

This, however, was on a whole different level. This was almost identical to what happened last year when he landed in the hospital for a week because of a small-bowel obstruction. Knowing we were going to end up in the ER if it didn’t clear up soon, I jumped up and ran to his side of the bed and convinced Nick to let me push on his stomach. That was the only thing I knew to do at this point. He had several vomit false alarms, but I kept massaging him. It was painful, and a few times he asked me to hold on, but I kept massaging. If he had an obstruction or blockage, the only thing that would solve it would be to get it moving. So I kept massaging.

Thankfully it moved, whatever it was, before we resorted to a trip to county hospital. The painful episode lasted for two hours, in which time I called Project Walk to cancel his appointment for this afternoon. After a few more hours of sleep, he woke up ready to take on a killer therapy session and called to get his appointment back. He ended up having a CVAC session and then an intense two hour workout at Project Walk.

We even had enough energy for a yummy dinner with Josh Wood and his Mum Kay (check out his website). What an inspiring dude and super nice guy. He spoke openly about his life and bared bits of his soul that reminded me so much of Nick. His determination to always grow and “never say never” really shined, but it’s his acknowledgement of the power of our individual choice to be happy that resonated with me most. After spending two hours with him and Kay, it’s obvious that he can teach others a lot about living an amazing life. It’s no wonder he’s an accomplished public speaker in Australia.

Dinner was arranged by Mum, whom we’ve known for several months now, even though we had never met Josh before. She just knew they would get on amazingly… and she was right.

Magical moments

We spent this hot summer evening in the pool together, something we haven’t done in a couple of weeks. Appreciating the amber sunset, cheek to cheek, up to our necks in warm water may not be as exciting as making ten skydives in a day or traveling by land through Europe, but it was every bit as magical once we focused our attention on the fact that it was.

We shared moments of pure happiness in that pool tonight, soaking under the stars. But we had to pay attention. I always look for those moments. The more we seek, the more we find.

Passion in action — a new focus

Nick’s last back surgery has turned out to be a blessing for both of us. Nick is finally seeing some improvements from it. More flexibility! He told me he’s able to sleep on his stomach in his “favorite sleeping position” for the first time since his accident. It’s a stomach-down, half-twist, pillow-hugging position that allows Nick to sleep soundly. Many basic movements are getting easier for him, which he gives credit to having less hardware in his back.

Since Nick’s spine surgery two and a half months ago, I eagerly decided to reclaim my identity. For over a year I absorbed into Nick as an extension of him. His caregiver and partner, I embodied a role that profoundly nurtured my soul. He needed me, and I needed him. We lived the mantra “we’re going to get through this together.” We still are. A promise I made to his unconscious body the night of his accident, I took on his suffering and grief as my own and vowed to never give up on his healing, no matter what.

But several weeks after this surgery, his healing began taking a turn in a positive direction. His recovery was slowly transitioning into predominantly physical healing because he had done so much work on the emotional side of it already. I didn’t notice this until after week 5 or 6 though, as the physical pain of the surgery gave way to preliminary emotional backsliding. But Nick is resilient, and as soon as he began fighting back, gaining confidence again and physical strength, it became apparent that a space was opening up in our lives for me to begin exploring who I am again.

I had lost myself in our journey, and I’m okay with that. I call it steadfast commitment. A love-drenched soul in its ultimate expression.

With Nick on the mend now, more determined and happy than ever, I’ve been slowly shifting my focal point from him to me. As Nick needs my pep-talks and physical presence less and less, I’m taking my time back to pursue the creative endeavors that have been tugging at my heart for over a year now.

I’m slowly coming alive with passion, cultivating my evolving strengths, and investing my time into creating what my heart is screaming to take shape. I’ve been working on a book for months, and though it’s nowhere near ready to be published, I’m no longer embarrassed to call myself an author. The painstaking yet gratified experience of pushing through my insecurities and emotional blocks to craft a brutally honest memoir of my charmed but dramatic life is proof enough for me that I am indeed an author. At 31, I have shelves of dusty, conflict scarred stories in my memory that I’m not too self-conscious to share, particularly the behind-the-scenes struggles and triumphs of the last 16 months. We all have a story to tell, and I’ve decided that it’s time to tell mine. Not Nick’s story. My story. I’m working feverishly to get the words out, aware that the journey is still young and likely to awkwardly linger long past its welcome, just like the one I’m writing about.

It’s been 16 busy months, and I have yet to return to a “real job,” preferring to use my time to continue helping Nick. I highly doubt I’ll return to a “real job,” (think: traditional employment). I want to create something different for my future. I’ve been studying nutrition, and am taking a course to become a Certified Nutrition Coach. With that certification, I’ll be able to legally teach nutrition in any state in the U.S.. Now, I have no idea where this will lead, but I’m certain that if I pursue what I’m passionate about, the pieces will fall together as I go. I yearn to combine passion with purpose, and create a living through that. That’s what I did with skydiving and at the time I was fulfilled beyond measure. Though I still love skydiving, I find it lacks purpose for me now, other than serving as an outlet for fun and the occasional reminder that I’m still alive.

My shift of focus has ignited a fire within me. I hope to lead Nick by example now in his own pursuit of a meaningful life, seeking peace and happiness together.

Good Read: How To Die Without Regrets

Yesterday I stumbled upon a blog post on Positively Positive that resonated so deeply with me, I knew I couldn’t keep it to myself.

How To Die Without Regrets by Bethany Butzer, PH.D. is well worth the quick read, so go ahead, click on it and savor every word.

My favorite line?

Even if you’re suffering from a serious health condition or are recovering from a traumatic event, you are responsible for how you perceive and react to these situations. It’s up to you to make the best of everything that you encounter in life—even tragedy.

Pilates?

Back at Project Walk, enjoying Bri’s ingenuity. Single leg “squats” on a Pilates machine.

God wants me to know…

For years, I’ve been a big fan of Neil Donald Walsch’s book Conversations With God. I subscribe to his daily emails, and frankly, find myself deleting them more often than sharing or re-reading them. But today I received the greatest one of all. The following email eloquently sums up the simple process I’ve used to get us through the hardest months of our lives.

On this day of your life, Lindsay, I believe God wants you to know…

…that “Why is this happening?” is the most useless question in the Universe.

The only really profitable question is, “What?”
As in, “What do I choose now?” This question empowers.
The “why” question simply perplexes, and rarely satisfies even when it gets a good answer.

So don’t try to “figure it out.” Stop it. Just focus on what you now wish to create. Keep moving forward.
There’s nothing behind you that can possibly serve you better than your highest thoughts about tomorrow.

We’ve come to expect the kindness of strangers

No joke… total downpour on the first Sunday of football season.
All the raindrops looked like little footballs. A good omen, you say?
LACES OUT!

This year, football season means that every Sunday I get to do whatever the hell I please. I am officially claiming Sunday as MY day, as I leave the wildebeests to their pig skins. I love it though. I love the passion in these Fener men as they yell and cheer at the hunky spandex clad athletes who punish each other, vying for possession of an oblong, bumpy brown ball. Pure passion, vibrant life force, American Football fans!

Yesterday we hung out with our friend Ke and met his beautiful girlfriend Chalet (here is her heartfelt blog). I had the crazy idea of going to the beach and renting sand wheelchairs and going for a stroll along the waters edge. It was a perfect day. Wispy white clouds streaked the blue sky. A delicate cool breeze brushed away the suns intensity. There were swarms of people, the beach is just so inviting.

It’s an interesting public social experiment having two young, fit dudes in wheelchairs accompanied by two smiling red heads. After fifteen months of living like this, Nick and I are accustomed to the stares, the comments, and the colorful interactions with strangers. We expect it. We always have wonderful experiences. We expect that too.

The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me. I am truly grateful any time a stranger offers to help me load Nick’s wheelchair in the car, even though I always decline. I offer an emphatic Thank You to anyone who holds a door, or steps aside to let us pass by. Nick goes out of his way to turn potentially awkward intimate moments with strangers into light hearted encounters. He loves to say hello to everyone he can, and never misses an opportunity to blurt out a good foot joke.

So yesterday, when Nick flipped over backward in the sand wheelchair, and I was unable to get him back up because I was laughing too hard (and he was on a slope), it was only natural that men came running from several nearby families to help out. It took three guys to get Nick right-side-up again, and one even insisted on helping me push him the rest of the way to the car, which wasn’t too far. No Feners were hurt in the making of this story, but I know we caused one hell of a scene.

Between falling over backward and just the general visual oddity of the four of us cruising along the sand in those funny looking chairs, I’m sure many people on that crowded beach were in awe of us. One man was brave enough to approach but Nick answered his question before he could even ask it, “Skydiving. It happened skydiving.” You see, we were in Oceanside, a bustling military town. I’m pretty sure the common assumption was they are veterans. I’m surprised more people didn’t come to say Thank You to them. It’s happened to both of them many times before.

A seriously awesome day at the beach we all desperately needed.

Reflection

Tonight I asked Nick how he is feeling, how he’s coping, accepting, finding peace with his life now. I don’t expect him to be happy about his life right now, that would be unrealistic especially because he had surgery nine weeks ago that forced him back into intolerable pain and dependence. Compared to the life he used to live, I know his current life sucks. Instead of skydiving everyday, he is juggling doctors appointments, therapies, and chores. His life lacks the excitement and passion it once had, but we understand he’s on a mission and he’s investing in his future by doing what is necessary to have the greatest chance at a fulfilling life in the future. I hope that one day he can find intense happiness that he once had despite what has changed in his life.

But right now, he says he’s found quite a bit of peace with losing his legs, his mobility, and some of his most intimate functions. He’s accepted where he’s at, even though there are moments when he still hates it. These moments are fewer, shorter, and milder. At only fifteen months post-accident I think any level of acceptance is an impressive feat. Just dealing with and working through the anger and depression that naturally accommodates a permanent injury is outstanding. And he’s done it while maintaining a good attitude and laser focus on his goals.

Nick Fener represents Chuck Norris strength and Energizer endurance. He’s suffered and survived through misery that would cripple many of us, and somehow has never lost his sense of self or sense of humor. I’m so proud of my partner. Everyday he inspires me to be a better person, live with more love and gratitude, push through what scares and intimidates me, be authentic and honest, and appreciate and cultivate my health and happiness.

Thank you Nick.

I love you!

 

We’re baaaack – at Project Walk that is!!

Nick making fresh fruit kabobs for our friends at P Dub.

I want to express the gravity of what going back to therapy at Project Walk means. This won’t be easy because it means everything.

Nick’s therapy at Project Walk from January through June this year gave him his glute muscles back, his hamstrings, his core. Working with Bri and Eric three days a week for over five months infused Nick with hope and had him flirting with freedom. His time at Project Walk cultivated the strength to push forward and the tools to do it safely. He swiftly graduated from parallel bars to a walker, from a walker to forearm crutches, from forearm crutches to hiking poles, from hiking poles to taking wobbly unassisted steps. He summited the Mt Everest of recovery, but only because they’re bad ass sherpas! The extensive knowledge and experience they have working with people who have spinal cord injuries made the critical difference in Nick’s stunning progression.

Not being at Project Walk, not moving forward, not seeing his friends make progress, not being around the community of amazing people, was all really hard on Nick. But even though he spent nine weeks away, having surgery and starting from scratch, nine weeks away filled with emotional turmoil and physical agony, nine weeks away with no formal therapy and very little energy to do his own exercising, even with all of that, he returned to Project Walk today just as strong if not stronger in certain areas than when he left nine weeks ago. I’m not saying he didn’t get his ass kicked. He did. Bri took him to the brink, but no further. It was a tough workout and he’ll be GRATEFUL when he is sore tomorrow. He GOT to workout hard today, he didn’t HAVE to.

I guess what I’m saying is it was lip-smacking, gooey gourmet chocolate cake, scrumptiously delicious to be back.

The hugs, the smiles, the stories from friends. Pure awesomeness!

This is our friend Russ. He’s funny and warm and determined as all hell. Today he asked Nick if he planned to return to skydiving. When Nick said he’d love to be an instructor again, Russ shot back, “I ain’t gettin’ no jump instruction from your ass!”
I just LOVE me some good ol’ Louisiana TRUTH!

Still sick. Ugh.

Round Two in the CVAC for Nick today. No problems with his ears during the entire one hour session. I didn’t go with him because I’m still not feeling good. Apparently I did a little too much running around yesterday because I feel worse then I did then.

Trying to embrace the downtime I’ve earned over the last week by reading, writing, brainstorming, dreaming, and trying new recipes. And that’s about all I’ve had the energy for too (other than yesterday, that is).

Nick starts Project Walk again tomorrow. Symbolic! We are moving forward.

Speaking of new recipes, check out what I crafted yesterday for breakfast. Nick had no idea it wasn’t scrambled eggs until he heard me talking about it later that day. I switched out his typical morning oatmeal for quinoa made with almond milk and he really liked it.

Curry tofu scramble with fresh onion, garlic, broccoli, spinach, avocado, and salsa on the left. Cinnamon/vanilla quinoa with toasted walnuts and almonds, blackberries, and banana on the right.

 

Even the darkest night…

This beautifully creative expression of compassion and hope was crafted by my friend Blue.

Just now as Nick was rolling over in bed he brought my attention to the ease at which he could lay on his belly and not be totally strained. He’s feeling a little more flexible now than he did before the surgery. With shorter metal rods his spine can move more freely now, and he’s finally beginning to notice it.

For the first month after the surgery he was cursing ever having it done. And now he’s reaping some of the benefits. Finally! Dawn is breaking.

Nick has died and gone to Babe Heaven

Wicked Babe Fest at the pool today, as one can plainly see.

I’m a wuss to complain, but…

I’ve been sick for three days now. Boo hoo! I can’t help but feel like a total wuss when I complain about my “pain” to Nick (and you know I’m complaining!) or when I just need to lay down after making an exhausting pilgrimage to the kitchen for more water.

To top it off, while I’m laying around sniffling this afternoon, Nick’s in the other room on the treadmill completely shattering his personal-best of 1/4 mile by walking a 1/2 mile straight!

We got hooked up with a killer deal on a gently used treadmill from our friend Eric and now Nick is able to “go for a walk” any time of day and successfully measure and track his progress. It’s been an excellent motivator for him, especially since it’s so convenient!

Then later, as I was complaining about still feeling lightheaded and just wanting to stay inside, Nick packed up and went to the pool for a few hours. He said it was a wonderful opportunity to practice mindfulness and soak in the beautiful day. He swam a little, peacefully floated some more, and socialized the most. Nicks buddy Lars was there with his parents and they got a chance to get to know each other. Nick really does make friends everywhere he goes, and by the sound of it, they’re like that too. Damn, I wish I could have been there.

Nick goes back to therapy at Project Walk in three short days. It feels like summer break is ending and school is back in session… well, kind of. The only difference is we’re actually excited to get back in the routine and get the momentum going again. Let the countdown begin!

New therapy, getting sick, and appreciating the contrast

Because it is my nature, I have to share a few positive things that have happened to us in the past two days before I share the shitty stuff.

Thursday was a busy, busy day. Nick is trying a new “therapy” called the CVAC process. Basically, he sits in a little pod for 20-60 minutes while the atmospheric pressure rapidly changes. During his initial session he was taken from a pressure equal to 10,000 feet above sea level, and dropped down to sea level, over and over again. The idea is to replicate the “pulsatile nature of breathing, muscle contraction, and blood flow that occur during exercise.” It’s for healing and conditioning, making it popular with professional athletes.

Nick in the CVAC machine. Due to the constant pressure changes, he had to equalize his ears every few seconds.

We got hooked up with this therapy through our friend Paul, and Nick is receiving a very hefty discount for his treatments. Thank you CVAC!

Our new car is having some issues with the passenger-door speaker so we took it in for repair. Turns out they couldn’t duplicate the problem we’ve been experiencing and therefore couldn’t fix it, so they ended up rotating the tires and washing the car for free. We even missed the torrential rains that hit that day and still have a shiny, clean car.

And lastly for the fun news, while waiting for the car, we had lunch in Old Town Temecula at The Public House. The food was so amazing, we just couldn’t stop raving about it. Nick had the special, a pan-seared Opah fish with some delicious fruit salsa compote on it. I had grilled Romaine (sounds unassuming, but was one of the most creative, satisfying dishes I’ve ever experienced), and we shared a vegan bruschetta to start. After the meal, the chef came to meet us because he heard we loved his creations. He was genuinely flattered by our appreciation and made us a special dessert for free: bread pudding with fruit, macadamia nuts, and a cream cheese topping. Unbelievable. We both left there uncomfortably full but glowing in our hearts and spirits. Thursday was a great day!

And then… Friday happened.

I was fighting a bit of a bug on Wednesday night and Thursday, but thought I had won. When I woke on Friday, it was a totally different story. I was sick. So sick, in fact, that I was almost completely useless. My whole body hurt, bringing me to tears several times throughout the day. Dull aches and shooting pains. Nausea, sore throat, and a headache. Light headed and heavy hearted.

Poor Nick, he really picked up the slack. It was hard on him, but he rose to the challenge and became my hero. He went to the grocery store for me, chopped veggies, and helped make fresh veggie soup (that I was unable to eat after all). He was constantly getting up and down for me, fetching water, cool rags, tea, and blankets. He had a full day of what I call “applied therapy.” He didn’t ride the bike, swim, or walk on the treadmill, but he trekked all over the house in the name of love and good Partnership! He was even walking around our kitchen without the walker or crutches for the first time since the surgery.

Of course, none of that came without dramatically increased pain. I’m just grateful he was able to assist me the way he did, and that I didn’t fall ill a few weeks ago when he would have been unable to keep up.

Thankfully I’m feeling better today. The feelings of a slow, painful death have abandoned my muscles and joints, but I’m still sore, exhausted, and lightheaded. I’m capable of tending to myself again, so I sent Nick out of the house to go have some fun. There’s no use having him sitting around watching me be miserable when there’s nothing he can do to help. So, he’s down at the dropzone hanging out with friends and watching the jumpers and enjoying the afternoon.

Despite not feeling well, I’m enjoying this quiet, contemplative Saturday afternoon alone. Looking forward to the return of my radiant health, but also appreciating the contrast from yesterdays bitter flavor.

The lesson: relish in your health, no matter what stage it’s in. Actively seek to create a sense of wellbeing, knowing that the feeling begins with a choice to focus upon it.

Dog pile

Xena makes an excellent stump rest.

Don’t wait until it’s too late – Power of Attorney and Living Will

My wallet card Power of Attorney and Living Will from Legal Zoom.
PRICELESS!!

What a beautiful slice of irony life can serve to those who prepare. A mere two months before Nick’s accident we each got Power of Attorneys and Living Wills. We got them just in the knick of time, yet had no idea just how soon we’d be using them.

The durable Power of Attorney allows you to appoint someone to make financial and legal decisions on your behalf. A Living Will lets you specify your wishes for life-support, organ donation, and end-of-life care if you become incapacitated.

There is no Common Law to protect unmarried couples in the state of California, so even though Nick and I were together for six years and planning for a lifetime, there would be no legal protection if one of us died or got injured. The Power of Attorney and Living Will gave us the opportunity to precisely lay out our wishes and ensure they are carried out. With those two documents, I was immediately able to make decisions regarding Nick’s health and finances based on his specific desires. I met no resistance, other than providing proof, and felt comfortable taking the lead when it came to making tough decisions while Nick was in a coma for a week.

Because Nick expressly named me as his executor, his wonderful family allowed me to take control, alleviating potential stressors that disagreements about health care can cause. His Mom stuck by my side as counsel, rather than opposition, because she knew her son would have wanted it that way. The Power of Attorney makes sure there’s only one chef in the kitchen, so to speak.

Getting to the point of actually creating these documents together took a few years. It’s one of those things you talk about doing, but is always last on the to-do list. We had several friends pass away, and many of their spouses said the aftermath would have been much simpler had they been more prepared. Had we waited just two months longer, it would have been too late. Who knows how things would have unfolded in the ICU if I wasn’t respected by the doctors as more than “just a girlfriend.”

Protecting yourself is extremely simple. There are a few online services that will provide a quick and painless experience. We used Legal Zoom. You answer a list of questions, all the while (hopefully) discussing with your person-of-choice the decisions you are making that they may have to carry out for you one day. For less than $100, and less than an hour of your time, you can assure peace of mind for you and your family. Once you receive the documents in the mail, rush out to get them notarized and then store them in a safe place. We put ours in a fireproof safe. Just don’t do what I did, and forget the combination and have to pay a professional safe-cracker $250 to get the documents out.

We also ordered wallet-size cards for quick reference for an extra $10. This has come in handy for me twice now, but each time I was still required to produce the original documents at a later date.

Here’s our challenge to you: begin by having an honest, open discussion about this with someone you love, trust, and respect. It can be anyone you are close to in your life, preferably someone dependable and capable of being level-headed in stressful situations. Find out if they are willing to take this responsibility seriously for you, and start the process of creating these documents.

Don’t wait until it’s too late. 

Lessons from death – Remembering Grandpa

In memory of John C. Carpenter

(10/25/1918 – 08/20/2012)

Remembering John C. Carpenter

We honored my Grandpa’s life yesterday at the beautiful new Miramar National Cemetery with an Air Force funeral service that left no details overlooked.

Six uniformed Air Force members marched in unison, meticulously carrying about the task of transporting Grand Dad’s casket from the traditional horse-drawn carriage to the landing where the service took place. In the highest honor possible, as a group, they ceremoniously folded the American flag in preparation to give to Grandma. One servicemen sounded the bugle by playing Taps, a familiar tune I had never been privy to hear in person or with such great reverence, while three other servicemen fired a gun salute in Grandpa’s honor.

Military Honors, a beautiful display of respect and togetherness.

The gentle breeze nudged me with a feeling of pride to be part of his legacy. A highly accomplished Lieutenant Colonel with the United States Air Force, he dedicated his career and life to serving his country. He lived 93 years, and as Grandma said, they had “a beautiful, beautiful life together.”

Throughout the brief service, I glanced around at the expanding family he created and nurtured. Four generations of Carpenters gathered to say goodbye and support one another. The youngest generation being young babies, I couldn’t help but contemplate the cycle of life and death. I visualized the funeral ceremony 93 years ago of the family patriarch when Grandpa himself was just a baby.

I’m sure it was incredibly difficult to sum up Grandpa’s magnificent life into a 20 minute celebration. How could you? Apparently he had his own obituary already written ahead of time, but I wonder if he ever thought about what would be said about him in front of his family on the day of his burial. I don’t think many people do. Would that influence you to live a kinder, more meaningful life? Now that I think about it that way, I believe it does.

I barely knew my Grandpa. In fact, I was surprised to learn his middle name was Corbin, and that he had four sisters. Despite this, I am at peace with our relationship, or lack there of, and the many things that were left unsaid. Instead, I am grateful for the lesson he taught me in his death. The lesson to live a full life, a life of love and meaning, contribution and service, and to be proud of who you are and how you live.  

At the closing of the ceremony when the decorated Air Force member presented Grandma with the flag, I choked up for the first time. I heard sniffles from the group, and could see Grandma, a frail old woman with a sharp memory and heart of gold, visibly shaken and trying to process the magnitude of what was happening at that moment. Even at almost 90 years old, after 67 years of marriage, a widow is still a widow. A painful loss we all know is possible, but worth the risk in order to share a lifetime of everlasting love with your soul mate.

Military Honors – Presenting the American Flag

Carpenter family lunch, remembering Grandpa, creating memories, laughing, and loving… all with an ocean view!

Back to the beach – and a couple of firsts

Nick and Ke enjoying the peace an afternoon at the beach can bring.

(Written Saturday evening)

Seven weeks post-op and we can finally be (kind of) spontaneous again.

We’re getting pretty wild this weekend, boy! We are visiting a Buddhist Monastery tomorrow for a “day of mindfulness.” I’m not sure what we’re searching for, but it just feels right, so we’re going to check it out. The catch? Getting to Escondido by 8:30am. Ouch.

So when Ke texted Nick that he needed to get out of the house, we said, “So do we,” and an impromptu ultra-mini vacation was conceived.

Nick having a longer leash now is liberating in a way only new parents and injured people can appreciate. At noon we were tossing around the idea of meeting Ke at the beach and getting a hotel near the monastery, and by 2pm we were on the road.

This was Ke’s first trip to the beach since his accident, and Nick’s first time since his surgery. The dark skies made the temperature bearable for the boys, but the sun did peak out for a moment before falling off the edge of the Earth.

After Ke treated us to sushi and conversation, Nick and I used the hotels hot tub, a rare treat indeed. This was his third jacuzzi session since the accident, and only the first one in which he’s been able to comfortably sit on the cement seats.

Laying in bed now, Nick says he feels “really good” after soaking under the stars. (edit: He slept soundly too!)

I am so grateful for all the love in my life and my keen ability to create beautiful moments like the ones we’ve shared today.

“Our breath is like a bridge between our mind and body”

400 meter dash

Nick did a quarter mile in about 13 minutes. He was hauling ass compared to when he walks around normally.

I’m so proud!

On our fridge…

We received this card over a year ago, but I love it so much it’s still on our fridge and I look at it every time I rummage for food.

We have some awesome friends!