Two weeks into Trauma Recovery we were fortunate enough to get an offer for his Chiropractic office on a promissory note to a semi-local chiropractor.  This appeared to be a huge blessing to us, as we did not have any medical insurance at the time of his accident. We had over $900k in medical bills and were terribly afraid of losing everything. Fortunately again, we were able to get Jason’s school loans forgiven under the contingency that he is not able to “work” until March of 2012.  And we were able to get some of our hospital debts forgiven as well. 

At the time of Jason’s accident we were just at the tale end of remolding our small, but cute 1910 downtown bungalow.  Our goal was to sell this house and get property on a few acres in the country, have a garden, a shop, space to run free.... that was all part of our dream. However- plans changed and here we were needing to make many, many more updates to have an accessible home for Jason. We only have one 6x8 (not so accessible bathroom), no built in closets, an unaccessible kitchen, and four kids sharing a small attic bedroom on the second level which Jason has no access to.

Unfortunately, less than 2 years after the “promissory note” the buyer drained our A/R, paid 5% of the principal owed, took our patients to his new office 15 miles south and went bankrupt on  Jason’s practice. Which meant the promise of an accessible home went bankrupt with him.

This left us in a very interesting situation. We could let the office sit empty like it had been sitting two months prior to our knowledge of the bankruptcy OR we could take back the space, try to transform it into the loving and serving place it had once been and seek out to find a D.C. to serve our community as Jason’s hands. But this in itself would have to be done with caution, because we could not afford to resume student loans. We had a patient base of zero, no staff & many repairs to be made (save a few small technical upgrades). Either way- We had to swallow the red pill and embrace reality. We were never getting our money that was owed for Jason’s practice.

Our decision...

Of course Jason chose to take on the challenge of transforming his old office space and serving our community again! How could we not? To let it completely go to waste felt wrong. The challenge of transformation is still working itself out, but for the most part we have been blessed yet again to have the support of our friends, family, community & compassionate chiropractors to help us help ourselves and others.  Even though Jason is not able to adjust people the way he once did, he is at the office serving others by listening, loving, educating and speaking his passion for chiropractic and wellness.

Which sure beats the heck out of staying homebound and sorry for yourself! 

As for our home, it still waits patiently... dreaming of an addition for a master bedroom & accessible bathroom & kitchen. Then we can move my oldest daughter into our bedroom and give our three younger ones the attic space upstairs. It doesn't solve all our problems, but it would take a tremendous amount of stress off our family.

We are also applying for an extreme home makeover (though it feels taking a chance at winning the lottery, there have been so many people over the last few years that try to convince us to apply). After much persuasion, we finally agreed. What is the harm in dreaming big? There are a few obstacles with that idea. Not impossibles, just obstacles.

Jason spend a ton of hours and energy remodeling our home. Our house is not a tear down. (Ironically, Jason had just widened an entryway and finished installing our hard wood floors a few weeks prior to his accident). And we have had much help from family & friends building ramps and making it more accessible over the past few years.

Also, our lot is too small to tear our house down to build a new single level house, and it would be a shame to tear it down anyhow!  It is truly a cozy, charming little house and I would rather donate it to someone who really needs it. Like a single or widowed parent who is striving to get by or a small family that is super down on their luck.

Continuous struggles...

Going from being healthy, active, successful and living your passion, to becoming unemployed, in debt and paralyzed is a harsh awakening that comes with an enormous army of challenges. It goes beyond the loss of esthetic and materialistic pleasures. And penetrates right at the core of our beliefs. It challenges the attachments we  have to the things we believe make us who we are. My husband is a runner, my husband is a chiropractor, my husband builds things, my husband is a great dancer. My husband needs help going to the bathroom, my husband can’t dress himself, my husband hands are paralyzed, my husband is always in physical pain.  Who’s wife was I, and who’s wife am I now? How do we define ourselves without the pleasures we become attached to? 

We are not without our dark days. They sneak up on us sometimes, though not as frequent as they used to. If you could listen at our bedroom door, you would hear sobs and swears at the universe. “We should’ve gone to the Fair that day instead, we should have bought that other house, I am not the right person to deal with this, find a stronger woman than me, find a better man than me, you guys deserve more, why did I dive off that boat, we would have been better off if we never sold the practice....” and the  list of  glorified what-ifs & unknowns with make believe happy endings continue.

Most of us strive to create the illusion that we are happier, healthier, richer, and overall better than we actually are.  Why do we do this? Because happy, healthy, rich, successful, beautiful, smart people are attractive. And we all want these pleasures of life. We deserve these pleasures. But they are wildly temporary. At some point we have to let go. The inevitable will indeed boomerang back to us and we will all be forced to part with who we once were. Some sooner than others. I feel it is wise to take that opportunity to observe, embrace & create a love affair with whom we become when stripped bare of our physical body and human attachments. And I feel that in our situation, we are left with no other satisfying option.

Everyday Jason gets up and faces his day. It take as much effort for him to turn in bed as it would for the average person to do a pull-up. He explains it as feeling like someone has “filled his pelvis with concrete and rebar.” This discomfort stems from heterotopic ossification. A condition that occurs after a traumatic injury to the body. This has caused the bone on his pelvis and femur to create fist size bone tumors that cauliflower & grow off the top of his bone. Resulting in decreased range of motion and making him dependent on other people to dress him, help with hygiene, etc. (For some, this condition becomes so severe that they become bedridden and unable to bend their body at all). That was a huge fear in the beginning, but the bone growth seemed to stop growing and he became pretty well adjusted to what  his abilities were. Even if that meant having someone else help him get dressed and not being able to push as fast as he wanted in his rugby chair, it was better than being stuck in a bed.

Last September Jason decided to get surgery on his bone growth. In theory, the actual surgery was a success and they scraped off a good amount of bone from his left pelvis. This was exciting and frightening. He had a week long hospital stay and four blood transfusions, but it was well worth it if he would be able to get into a racing wheelchair and dress himself. Unfortunately the decision to get that surgery haunts him with much regret. His muscle spasms have gotten almost intolerable, he is unable to lay on his left side, his range of motion is worse, dependancy on others increased and a post surgical seroma has taken the place of the bone mass.

Jason is a risk taker. He always has been. The thought of independence was worth the risk of the unknown. Perhaps in a few years the seroma will go away, I really don’t know, but I can still hope. Every quadriplegic I know has their own set of difficulties and ghosts of their previous form. It comes with the the whole quad package. Never mind dysreflexia, UTI’s, muscle spasms, and a constant neurological burning pain. That is just the basics of losing 90% of your body and living to tell about it. We can let sadness make a cozy home inside us and cloud our spirit with hazy spite, or we can chose to make peace with this unpredictable journey called life.