It’s been a while since my last update on Mary. Three weeks ago I dropped off her phone at the hospital, and she has been active with Facebook and text messaging ever since. To some extent, she has kept the world updated herself, making it feel strange for me each time I’ve sat down to write about it. Those of you who know Mary know she is a pretty private person. When she needed me to speak for her, I was happy to do that, but now she can do that for herself, and it has been harder for me to share as a result.
The fact that she can update people on her own, especially so soon after the accident, is nothing short of a medical marvel. To be honest, when I first read the CT and MRI reports on her head, I was extremely worried she would require months of therapy to even be able to talk or feed herself. A return to normal seemed like a distant possibility. But, Mary has proven to be more resilient than most, exceeding the expectations of the doctors and nurses at every step.
I haven’t wrote about it much up until this point, mostly because I didn’t want to worry anyone, but in my opinion, her recovery was in spite of MU Hospital, not because of it. For a “teaching hospital,” I was frankly appalled at the lack of evidence-based medicine being practiced there. Simple, guideline-based interventions were ignored. Antibiotics were used frivolously. They would not even give her ice for her pain and swelling after surgery. This was compounded by my inability to be there and see her. It felt like she was being abused, and I knew it, but there was nothing I could do about it except yell into a little black rectangle and hope someone on the other end listened.
My doubts about the quality of her care were confirmed when they finally released her to Women’s and Children’s Hospital (WCH) on Friday the 4th. All of a sudden, it was as if the shutters were thrown open, letting in a tidal wave of sunshine that made me feel that she was once again in good hands. The physicians, nurses, case managers, and therapists at WCH were amazing at keeping me updated and working toward meeting Mary’s goals of coming home. There is no way she would have been released on Monday the 7th if she was still at University Hospital. The plan up until this point had been for her to go to an inpatient rehabilitation facility, most likely for several weeks or even months, but now her physical therapist was telling me that she can get around on her own with a wheelchair and that she was ready to go home!
Though welcome, this made her early homecoming a surprise to me. Given that just days before I was texting her the same thing every hour or so to remind her where she was, why she was there, and how much longer she would need to be there, I was shocked when her new physician told me, “If I didn’t know Mary’s history of the wreck, I wouldn’t know there was anything wrong with her other than her broken wrist and foot.”
If I didn’t know Mary’s history of the wreck, I wouldn’t know there was anything wrong with her other than her broken wrist and foot.
Mary’s Physician at WCH on December 4th
Most of my communications with Mary up until this point were via text messaging, which has always been our primary mode of communication when apart ever since we started dating. That’s great, but it is hard to discern so many important things over text, or even the phone, so I wasn’t yet fully convinced of Mary’s convalescence. I didn’t know whether to be encouraged by the physician’s words, or be worried that he was incompetent because he couldn’t perform a basic neurologic exam! These fears were finally allayed when Mary arrived at home on December 7th. It was remarkable to me just how normal she was. Considering the discomfort of her leg and arm casts, she was in a terrific mood; I may even go so far as to say it was the happiest I’ve seen her in years. After a brief visit, I returned to the Lake with a degree of peace I had been missing for a month. I knew her parents would be able to take care of her, and she was no longer under the threat of medical malpractice or nosocomial infection.
I worked through the week like a child counting down days to Christmas. On Friday I came home and went to sleep beside my wife, the love of my life, for the first time in five weeks. I enjoyed the next two days of serving her, catching up, and spending time together. Other than a hoarse voice, a few complaints of headaches and nausea, and severe annoyance at her casts, Mary seemed normal. We laughed and cried together. We talked about her hospital stay, what we know of the wreck, and what I did along the way. We even had the grandparents bring over John and Amelia for a few hours each day.
Though it was a little stressful for me, I think finally being able to see Mary was extremely important for John. He has handled everything really well, but at the same time he has had plenty of difficulties. A few weeks ago, he came up to me and said “Dad, I’m sad.” I, of course, asked him why. “Dad, I’m sad about my mommy.” Of course, that was heartbreaking to hear. A few days after the accident, I was explaining to John what was wrong with Amelia’s leg. Every time I would tell him about it, he would say “no, it isnt!” and lightly squeal like he was in pain. Then a few seconds later, he would ask again, what’s wrong with baby sister’s leg? I think he was both trying to process it, and hoping that I was joking and would eventually change my answer. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
Even though he can put on quite the show at times, he really is a sensitive and loving child. I think seeing Mary and I once again at home gave him the dose of normalcy that he needed to keep on going.
Amelia, on the other hand, was also a heartbreaking interaction, but for a different reason. She is right at that age where they start to get separation anxiety and fear of strangers, and that is exactly how she acted when she saw Mary. My heart sank. The poor girl. And poor Mary.
I blame, once again, MU and their unethical visitor policy. How cruel is it to separate a mother and child to such an extreme so that the child is no longer comfortable with her mother? I will never forgive them for the unnecessary psychological torture they put us all through.
Eventually Amelia did warm up to Mary, but it was a repeat event the next day. I know she will get over it eventually, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
Also, this week the medical bills started to arrive. First was the helicopter bill. A few years ago I bought an Air Evac membership for just this reason; I knew if any of us was ever in a serious accident, our remote location would necessitate an air ambulance. Unfortunately, they used Mercy for the transport, which made no sense for a multitude of reasons, the worse being that by the time they drove her to Rolla, “admitted” her to the ER (where they did nothing), and put her on the helicopter for Columbia, she could have been there just as fast had they just stayed on the ground and drove straight there. On the day of the accident, I arrived at the ER at the same time they were loading her on the helicopter. I drove the speed limit up to Columbia, yet somehow I was only a few minutes behind them? They charged us $30,000 for that pointless flight.
Our healthcare system is broken in so many ways. Let me tell you, there is nothing great about free market healthcare. It does not work. Medications are not widgets that can be bought and sold at prices the market demands. Treatments are not choices that should be dictated by cost instead of effectiveness. Our free market system has resulted in just exactly what people fear from a “socialist” system; exorbitant costs with no positive outcomes, overworked nurses and doctors who can’t adequately care for their patients, and waiting lists weeks long. We must fix this.
But, back to Mary. Overall, she has made a remarkable recovery so far. Mentally, she has virtually returned to normal. Physically, she is healing, and we will know how well the surgeries have helped repair the damage after her check ups on Wednesday. She is not supposed to bear any weight on her right foot or right arm, so she occasionally needs help getting around and in and out of the wheelchair, but is pretty independent otherwise. After four weeks with nothing but cursory “bed baths” in the hospital, a “real” shower using trash bags to cover her casts and some assistance from me really made her feel “human” again, as she put it.
I am so glad she is home, and I feel lucky that she has made such a swift recovery. Though the road ahead is still long (she will need to do physical therapy once her foot and wrist heal enough to bear weight), it feels like we have already come so far. We appreciate every ounce of support and encouragement that all of our friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers have offered. Every bit counts.
Amelia healed 
In the ER day 1 
ICU Day 2 
ICU Day 3 
Skin Graft Healing 
Wrist and Elbow on the mend
I’m not sure if there will be any more updates on Mary after this. I hope that you will still enjoy my site after it “returns to normal programming.” I appreciate every reader and subscriber. Thank you for helping me share Mary’s Journey.
This is part 5 of a 5 part series on Mary’s Journey. Read the other entries below:
Questions of Science and Progress do not speak as loud as my heart. (1)
I’m back at the Lake, by my Heart is still in Columbia (2)
Fast Facts (3)
Something to Say Thanks About (4)
