Let me get a little personal...

This is raw and emotional and long. It gives you a glimpse into my life, especially these past few months – to kind of explain what’s been going on in my personal life (which has of course affected my business life). I’ve been trying to write it for a month now, going back and forth on whether or not I even wanted to share it, so ignore all the run on sentences and missing commas.

     Two months ago (yesterday) I lost the first man I ever loved. I have always been a daddy’s girl 100%. We were a lot alike in so many ways (including temper) – he made sure to raise me to be independent – always do things right the first time – and always do the right thing – whether or not anyone else knew you were doing it. His health problems really started before my son was born (nearly 12 years ago) he had smoked literally all his life – he had told the story that his Uncle would give him cigarettes at 8 years old because he thought it was cute.  He worked a full time job and went to college at night and in order to stay up he would smoke one right after another.

     One day, his toes started turning black…. He went to a “doc in a box” who said his shoes were too tight – it continued on (toes turning more black, going to different doctors) until his toes literally started falling off. He ended up having to have an operation to “clean up” his toes and Dr. Stuckey (vascular surgeon) told him it was because of smoking (plaque had broke off in the small veins in his feet and blocked blood flow). Dr. Stuckey told him if he didn’t stop smoking to find another Doctor. He threw his cigarettes in the trash before we left the hospital and never picked up another. My son was born shortly after that in 2008, and he had asthma, so my dad’s not smoking was the biggest blessing because he absolutely adored Lee so I didn’t have to worry about Lee not being able to be around him because he was smoking.

     In 2016, his troubles were back in a big way. He was having SO much pain in his legs – Dr. Stuckey went in and opened some veins, but we were about to go on vacation. My dad refused not to go. We had been planning this trip for so long and were all so excited. Dr. Stuckey ended up okaying the trip and we went to the Smoky Mountains. While we were there he was in so much pain and could hardly walk (but he wouldn’t use a wheelchair)… my Grandmother (his mom) ended up passing away on October 2, 2016 – and on October 17, 2016 he was having his left leg removed (there were a few operations in between to try and get blood flowing, but none worked). It would be our last vacation we ever took together, and none of us even knew. Even though we only got to stay one full day (because of my Grandmother’s passing) it was SO worth the memories and we wouldn’t trade them for anything. He even missed the wedding of his only Granddaughter (my only daughter) because he had just had one of the surgeries to try and help the blood flow – so just to put that in perspective for you on how my life was going within one month my Grandmother passed away, my only daughter got married, and my dad had his leg amputated!)

     He ended up doing really well with the first amputation and his biggest goal was to go back to work (he was an Engineer). He went to rehab and learned to walk again and did end up going back to work! His prosthetic was on his left leg, so he was able to keep driving his truck and mowing his yard (his yard work was his favorite hobby). Life seemed like it was getting back to normal again until the beginning of 2018 when he started having problems with his right leg. Again, Dr. Stuckey did several operations (stints, etc.) trying to help the blood flow of his right leg. After his first amputation, I always went to all of his Dr. appointments with him and I can remember as if it was yesterday sitting in Dr. Stuckey’s office and he was telling him he wanted to do a stint in his right leg and daddy said “What if this ends up not working either – do I want to go through all the pain of having my entire leg from groin to ankle cut open just to end up having to have it cut off anyway?” – but Dr. Stuckey told him if it was HIM he would try everything he possibly could to save his leg… but it wasn’t meant to be – daddy ended up having his second amputation on June 18, 2018. Both were below the knee so that was a blessing (it’s easier to walk when it’s below the knee versus above the knee). Of course daddy was depressed he had no legs, but I was just as stubborn as he was and refused to let him give up on life – so again, his goal was to return to work!

      This amputation was a little worse than the first one – there was a problem (infection) with the healing and Dr. Stuckey had to end up going back in to do additional surgery and was even afraid that he was going to have to go higher with the amputation to have it above the knee, but thankfully it started to slowly heal… BUT anyone who has ever had an amputation can tell you that getting a prosthesis is not as easy as one would think and there are several steps to it – so he ended up being mentally able to work, but the physical healing wasn’t to where he was able to get a prosthesis – SO – he would have to go back to work without a prosthesis. BUT (and there was ALWAYS a but!) – it turns out the state of Alabama frowns upon people with no legs just driving willy nilly so he had to retake his drivers license test. He didn’t have to do anything with the written, but in order to get hand controls put in his van he had to take a road test then they would write a “prescription” and he could get the hand controls and his new license. So he went to a place in Huntsville that does the test and we met the lady at Joe Davis stadium and she had a car that she just attached hand controls to! He transferred from his electric wheelchair to her car and I swear to y’all, I was just as nervous watching him drive off with that lady taking his road test as I was when my 16 year old daughter was at the courthouse trying for her license! He had to drive on the Parkway (which some people who have been driving with two good legs all their lives can’t do!) and he had to take a series of tests on the computer based on reaction time, etc. – but he passed all of it! I was so proud of him! He asked me if I’d be afraid to ride with him and I told him of course not because I knew he’d never drive if he didn’t think he could do it. I remember when we got the hand controls installed in the handicap van it was dark by the time they finished installing them (which, by the way, I suck at driving in the dark – I think it’s all the years of darkroom work ruined my eyes!) and I could tell he was nervous so I asked him if he wanted me to drive home that night (he’d never even drove his own van before!) and he said yes.

      He did end up going back to work and he was so happy – and I have to say – Teledyne Brown Engineering (especially Jeff Holley) did everything they could in order to accommodate him being in a wheelchair with no legs. I was floored by how “un” handicap accessible places are – even Dr offices (that’s another story for another day). Everything was going well, he was back at work, his leg was healing – life was getting back to normal! I even went to a photography conference because I felt confident in leaving him/them (my mom and dad). March 20, 2019… everything changed for the worse. He had gone to work that morning and he had a Doctors appointment that afternoon – just a normal check up – no big deal. I met him at the Doctors office because of the “inaccessibility” I talked about earlier – the office he was going to had a heavy glass door and when you are in a wheelchair you have to have a certain amount of clearance to be able to open the door then let yourself in before the door shut behind you – and it just didn’t happen at this office – so even though he told me he’d be fine and he didn’t want to “ruin my day” – I met him there. Just a side note before I move on to the next “tragedy” – when someone is handicap and is driving alone and can NOT walk and they park in a van accessible handicap spot – and the person beside them parks too close to the striped lines – that person can not get in their car or leave until the other person leaves – now that’s especially a problem when it’s in a parking lot with more than one business and you have no idea which office the person that is driving the car is even in – so just be aware of how you park when you are parking close the a handicap spot… there were a couple of times I would have to back the van completely out and then let him roll in – just because there’s enough clearance for the ramp to come down, doesn’t mean it’s enough clearance for the wheelchair to get between the ramp and the car next to it.

     Anyway, we were sitting in the waiting room he’d already paid his co-pay and we were just talking and joking around. All of a sudden he looked at me and started stuttering out non-sense. I said “What?” because he was always joking so I thought he was joking – but he cleared his throat (like his brain knew something wasn’t right) and tried again – same thing came out – nonsense – I said “Hang on I think you’re having a stroke” – I was terrified he would fall out of the wheelchair before I could get to the front desk! I made it to the front desk and she opened the front window and I told the receptionist she needed to get the Dr because I thought he was having a stroke. The Dr. came out a few seconds later and started talking to him – there was another couple in the waiting room too – so she did a few things then asked him if he could make it to a room – so WHILE having a stroke he was able to drive himself in an electric wheelchair into a patient room! The Doctor called 911 and the ambulance came to get him – so I had to drive his wheelchair out to his van (and it looked like I was having a stroke the way I was driving) and I followed the ambulance to the hospital (in my van because we had met there). Since we knew the exact time he started having the stroke they were able to give him some medicine that was supposed to help him. In an effort to make this already impossibly long blog just a little bit shorter I will condense the events that happened next – he ended up losing ALL feeling in his left side (never to regain it), had a kidney stone which required an emergency kidney stint, and had a seizure. He had never experienced any of it before – kidney stones, strokes, seizures, it was all new – to all of us. I had sat every day with my dad after every surgery, amputation, hospital stay, etc. – my mom and I (I’m an only child) got the house as handicap accessible as possible after the first amputation – I was a pro at driving a handicap van – we had all the things – wheelchairs, ramps, sliding boards, shower chairs, walkers, canes, you name it – we had it… but this… this was different…. He had NO legs and could only move his right arm. His speech was affected (he said he sounded like Elmer Fudd) – his memory was affected – there was MANY arguments over who’s house we were in, what bed he was in (he could only sleep in a hospital bed at home because now we had to use a hoyer lift in order to get him moved anywhere at all) – everything was different – he was like a newborn baby only he weighed 160 pounds and cussed a lot!

     Soon though, we fell in to our new normal. He had three very good friends and a very good cousin that came to see him regularly and they will never know how much that helped us out – he was so depressed in the condition he was in – and as a cousin of mine always says – you’ve got two weeks to get better before people move on with their lives! We had our routine – I would drop my son off at school, go straight to my mom & dad’s house (my mom works beside her house in a beauty shop – which is in the same building as my photography studio) and I would get him up and into his wheelchair and he would eat his rice krisipies while we watched Perry Mason. I would put him back in his bed and we would watch Matlock and he would always get confused on what channel and what time Judge Milan came on – we would watch her next. Some days he felt like getting up and back in the wheelchair for lunch, other days he would eat in bed, but it was always at 11 and he would always watch In the Heat of the Night followed by Judge Milan again. We watched the same shows everyday and he always commented on how Judge Milan looked like she was wearing a wig. Some days everything was smooth and other days (especially when he had a urinary tract infection – which he had often) we would scream at each other being so mad about whatever it was we were mad about. I would get so frustrated with him that he was being ugly about something when I felt like I was stopping my whole life to help him get better.  I can’t even remember some of the things we would fight about now, but it breaks my heart now that he’s gone that I ever raised my voice at him and that I couldn’t just ignore things or try to change the subject of whatever he was mad about.

     Life just seemed so hard at the time and as I was going through it. And this is pure, raw honesty here… I was in a constant state of worry – the only thing I knew for sure is that I would stick by him. My blood pressure was high, I was stressed beyond belief, I couldn’t plan anything or even really run my business effectively – I turned down anything other than portrait sessions because I was afraid something would happen to him and I would have to get him to the Doctor. EVERY time we went to Blackwell Tower we would have to park on the top floor because to find a van accessible parking spot with the lines on the right side was a miracle straight from heaven. EVERY time we had to park on top (which was every time), I was scared there would be a fire and there was no way I could get him off the top floor (if the elevators weren’t working because of the fire) – I couldn’t drag a 160 pound man with no legs down 4+ flights of stairs – although I know without a doubt I would have definitely died trying! I know 100% that I did all that I could for my dad, but there are still regrets that I have that I would have been more understanding of him on his “bad” days. Anyway – once again we were getting as normal as we could be – but on November 13 he started having seizures. Him and mom were at home getting ready for bed and he started shaking – but not in the same way that his first (and only other seizure) was. She told him she was going to call 911 and he told her he didn’t want her to – he was tired and just wanted to die in bed. She waited a little bit but he wasn’t stopping so she told him she was scared and was going to call me (and he even told her not to call me because I was wore out). She called me and I came down there and he said again he didn’t want us to call 911 – so I called Home Health – they were coming out each week to do physical therapy and occupational therapy – I’m crying even as I write this because the plan was to take a break over Christmas then start back in the new year so the insurance would cover it – but some plans – a lot of plans – never happen. Anyway – home health ended up calling 911 for us and once the ambulance got there he refused to go. I had called his cousin in the meantime and he came over to try and convince him to go. None of us could convince him and the ambulance driver said they can not take someone if they are refusing, but about that time daddy became unresponsive so they were able to take him. They took him by ambulance and my mom and I rode behind them in the van – I had even went ahead and put his wheelchair in there just in case he was able to come back home with us that night – but we had to park in the parking garage so by the time we got to the ER they had him back in the triage area, but weren’t ready for us yet. When we got back there with him his ID band said “Victor Doe” because he was unresponsive so couldn’t tell him his name himself (even though we had told the ambulance driver) – I even took a picture of it so I could show my dad when he was better because I knew he would get a kick out of it.

     We ended up staying up all that night (Wednesday) and into the next morning. They moved him into a semi-private room around 1am and he had a roommate (Mr. Lavender) so my mom and I told him (around 11) we had to go home to get some rest. Anyone who has ever been in the hospital or visited someone in the hospital knows they give you one straight back chair no matter if you have 1 visitor or 10. So mom and I go home then come back that afternoon. As we were leaving Thursday night I told him I’d be back around 8:30am because Lee couldn’t get in the school building until 7:30 (and Ardmore is nearly an hour away from Huntsville). Friday morning I walked in his room and he was propped up in bed and said “I’m glad you are here – I was just about to call you” and one of the things that had happened since his stroke is that time meant nothing to him. To him 5 minutes might as well be 5 hours – so even though I was there the exact time I said I would be, he felt like he’d been waiting all day. He told me that the Dr said he could go home – now, keep in mind he was still having seizures and had not stopped at all since Wednesday night. I thought it was just him misunderstanding something so I asked his roommate – sure enough – the Dr had told him he could go home! To say I was upset would definitely be an understatement. I asked the nurse what was going on and she said she didn’t think the Dr said that so I asked her to find out for me. About that same time the Dr. called my cell phone and told me that my dad WAS going home. I told him he was literally having a seizure as I was on the phone with him. He said “Right now? You’re in his room? I’m coming up there”. He was having seizures every 5 to 10 minutes, but the seizures would only last about a minute – so by the time the Dr got up there he had stopped. He asked me to talk to him out in the hallway and told me the reason he was letting daddy leave is that he said he wanted to go home. I told him I was very much aware that he wanted to go home, but the fact that he was still having seizures and they had done nothing at all for him was a problem. I told him I felt like he was washing his hands of it being his problem and sending us to the wolves. I told him getting daddy home was more difficult than just driving to the circle to pick him up and throwing him in the car – he had a special wheelchair which had to have the hoyer lift “sling” in it or we wouldn’t even be able to get him into the bed at home, and that wheelchair had to be buckled into a special van that was an hour away from the hospital back at my house (not to mention I had a kid at school I had to pick up).

     He told me he wasn’t aware that daddy was still having seizures. He thought when they gave him the extra dose of Keppra on Wednesday night in the ER that they stopped. That fact in itself made me want to throat punch him because as I said earlier, my dad was having seizures every 5 – 10 minutes. Now I have a LOT of nurse friends and I am by no means saying it’s an easy job – I know they are underpaid and underappreciated – and according to every nurse in Huntsville Hopital – understaffed, but if ONE person on staff had of stayed in his room for 10 minutes they would have seen the seizures. Plus, besides the continuous seizures his head was killing him. The Dr. told me I was yelling at him and not listening to him so I told him go ahead and say what he had to say then I would need him to listen to what I had to say. He told me that he had spoke with us what daddy’s “DNR” bracelet said and meant (DNR means Do Not Resuscitate) – daddy was very adamant about not having breathing tubes or wires or any artificial means of keeping him alive. Once daddy had the stroke I carried a “diaper bag” for him – in it was his medicine list, packets of nectar thickened liquid, his wallet, and his power of attorney papers which also included his living will stating his choice of DNR… I was well aware of what my daddy wanted. BUT I told this Dr. that didn’t know me from Adam (and vice versa) – “That’s not the way God works, you don’t look up and say ok, I’m ready – go ahead and take me – and you die – God doesn’t take you until He is ready – it’s on His timing, not ours – but in the meantime – we are having to deal with him having constant seizures which is a new thing for all of us – what do we do if he’s eating and has one – what if I’m driving him home – which is an hour away – and he starts having one – should he lie down, sit up – we have no experience or training at all” – so after we both had our understanding of one another he agreed it was best for daddy to stay until they got the seizures to at least stop for a little while or better controlled. At that time, I still thought he was going to eventually get to come home, but as I sat with him that day I felt something I’d never felt before, I felt like my daddy wasn’t coming home from this. I text my mom and told her I didn’t feel like he was going to get to come home this time so she cancelled all of her appointments for the next day and said she would come prepared to stay the night (I had already told her if she wasn’t going to I was going to even if I had to sleep on the floor – I just couldn’t leave him alone). They ended up hooking him up to a continuous monitor where they videoed him and had wires all over his head (which he said was his perm). It turned out to be a blessing in a way because his semi-private room had to become private because of the filming and privacy laws, no other patient could be in the room. He never could stop having the seizures – they had him on four seizure medicines (at the same time), but that still didn’t stop them. He was so exhausted and his eyes were blood red because he couldn’t get any sleep because the seizures woke him up.

     They ended up coming in and talking to us about sending him to a hospice facility. We had no idea hospice “facilities” existed – we knew hospice would come out to your home, but we didn’t know there was a hospice hospital. At first we said no because we were imagining it to be an ICU where we could see him 2 at a time every few hours for 15 minutes. We said we were just taking him home. They asked us to just let someone come in and talk to us about it and we didn’t have to go, but to at least listen. I told mom we could at least listen to them and they gave us a website to go to in the meantime. They came in and told us there was ONE Dr so the same person saw him day in and day out – the nurse to patient ratio was about 2-3 patients per nurse. Every room was private and you could have 30 people in the room if you wanted and there was no visiting hours – everyone could come and go as they pleased. We ended up saying yes because the original plan was to go there 3-5 days to get his medicine regulated to where we could administer it at home then go home to let him die (that was his wish, to die at home). We had no idea how stressed we were at the hospital until we got to Hospice Family Care. They took dad by ambulance (and he had a seizure when they lifted him from the bed to the gurney at Huntsville Hospital and again when they lifted him from the gurney to the bed at Hospice Family Care). Once they got him there they told us to wait outside while they got him in bed. We had a comfortable couch to sit on in front of a fireplace right outside his room. At every hospital he’s ever been in we would have to stand against the walls in the hallway feeling like you were in everyone’s way – so already this had a different feel about it. Another thing you notice is the quiet – there’s no machines beeping, no nurses running around. The floors were clean and there was no bandage wrappers on the floor like in the hospitals.

     After they got him in bed and stable the Dr. brought us in to talk with us. He asked us why we were there and I said “Huh?” so he rephrased it to say “What are your expectations in being here” so I told him Huntsville Hospital told us we would be here 3-5 days to get his medicines regulated then we could take him home. He shook his head “no” in the saddest way and said “He’s not going to make it home – he wouldn’t survive the ride” – which I had no doubt was true because by now we were on South Parkway – even FURTHER away from “Coffeepot”. We ended up being at Hospice a little over a week before he passed away. It was SO peaceful the entire time. There was a private screened in porch connected to his room that I sat on many days and nights just crying out to God to help me. The biggest blessing of the whole place was daddy wasn’t connected to anything. They came in once a day to check his vitals, but other than that he wasn’t hooked up to any monitors. No oxygen, no heart monitor, nothing. They told us that a lot of times in the “last days” that families will spend more time worrying about what the numbers say than actually spending time with their loved ones. We talked to daddy the whole time even though he couldn’t talk or even open his eyes. He was able up until the last two days to squeeze our hands in response. Each night at bedtime I rolled my recliner right beside him and held his hand. I was sure he would die during the night and since he couldn’t see or talk I never wanted him to think he was alone. He ended up dying during the day. Mom, Lee, one of his brothers, his sister, and I was all there with him. I was holding his hand just like I told him I would be doing until the end. It was the absolute hardest thing I have ever had to do. As I said in the beginning of this long blog (and kudos to you if you’ve stuck with me through the whole thing!), it’s been two months. I’ve always heard all of the “firsts” are the hardest. We’ve already had our first Thanksgiving without him, but he wasn’t even buried yet so we were still pretty out of it. We’ve already had our first Christmas without him. It’s hard, so hard. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. In some ways I am so angry that he was only 65 years old. We still had plans. He wanted to go see the Noah’s ark exhibit once he got to where he could get around better. He dreamed of walking again (even if it was with two “fake” legs), he wanted to take Lee hunting and promised his three best friends they would go out to eat once he got back to work again. So many plans that will never happen, but on the other hand, I am SO thankful he lived to be 65 years old. He got to experience so many things and had a really good life, especially compared to others.

     I guess that’s what gets you through the hard parts – hanging on to the good memories you make. I’ve always tried to never live my life with regrets, but seeing my daddy pass away at 65 has made me realize even more how true that is. It has also reminded me of why I got in to photography in the first place – I LOVE looking through old family pictures and seeing if I looked like a Great-Grandmother or reliving some of our favorite memories – I’m not even talking just about professional photos either – I’m talking about the ones that nobody but me would understand – those “inside” memories (but I mean, don’t get me wrong , those professional photos are priceless!) Some days it still feels like I’m going to suffocate under the grief and the tightness in my chest. Some times I feel so alone, like nobody will ever understand the sadness that I’m feeling, but I just try to keep myself busy on those days and really try and focus on all of the blessings that I have every day (I have 2 healthy kids, a hard working husband, a job that I love), and one of the blessings I have is that I still have my mom. She has a mammogram tomorrow and is coming up on being five years cancer free. Her outcome could have been a lot different, so I am so thankful that God saw fit for her to still be here today!

     Well, I am sorry this was so long, but it’s been a long journey (or as the band the Grateful Dead would say, What a long, strange trip it’s been!). I am definitely full swing back into my business now (so contact me to schedule a session!) and I’m working on finishing up being a Certified Professional Photographer, which was something I started before the stroke and ended up having to stop it for awhile. I hope my daddy looks down on me and is proud for what I’m continuing to do in life, because it is because of him I am who I am today!