Three Month Anniversary

What a ride the past 3 months have been.

March 1^st began for our family with Taylor rolling his car twice, then having it flip end over end. He was partially ejected and found by a passing Trucker.

Meanwhile, Suzie was calling Taylor’s cell to find out why he was late getting home. A Deputy eventually answered and told her Taylor was in an accident, was ejected from the car and was being loaded into a helicopter. Suzie dropped the phone, disconnecting the Deputy. I called the Deputy back and learned Taylor was being taken to Lakeland Regional Hospital. I could hear Taylor groaning in the background.

The fight to save Taylor’s life and our worst nightmare had begun.

For the next 3 weeks we lived at the hospital, sleeping on waiting room floors, semi-reclining on 2 person sofas and upright in chairs. Friends of Taylor’s and ours came everyday, all day. Some stayed until 3 and 4am. We panicked, worried, cried and prayed. A lot.

Taylor’s major injury was to his brain. He also fractured his neck but it was expected to heal in 3 months by immobilizing it. He had no lacerations, no other broken bones, no internal injuries. But, the injury he did receive had the potential for being the worst imaginable.

On day 6 of his hospital stay, the brain swelling that the medical staff fought so hard to control went out of control. It rose so quickly that surgery in his room was contemplated. He was disconnected from the monitors, IV’s, and the ventilator and he was taken to the Operating Room in his bed while nurses kept him alive by manually inflating his lungs with a hand held Ambu Bag.

Although Suzie refused to do it, I admit I dwelled on the worst possible outcome. Would he be paralyzed? Would he be able to talk? Would he be blind or deaf? Would he even know who we were? Would I ever hear him laugh again, hug me or tell me he loved me?

The minutes passed slowly, day by day, week after week. A major contributor to us keeping our sanity was the amazing support we got from friends of mine, Suzie, Taylor and Lauren. They stayed with us day and night helping us to cope with fear beyond description. They prayed with us and made personal sacrifices for us. Suzie’s co-workers and management at The Ledger were incredibly gracious.

At first I wanted Taylor to come home the same way he last left – happy, funny, smart. After thinking of all the possibilities, I finally accepted the realization that he may come home, but life for him may never be the same. As long as we could hug him, even if he couldn’t hug us back, I just wanted him home.

Through God’s grace and the incredible care he received at Lakeland Regional Medical Center, and now the rehabilitation he’s receiving at FINR, I know the answer to the darkest questions I asked myself.

With the exception of a few physical issues that he has very good chances of recovering from, he’s Taylor. He’s the same intelligent, loving funny 20 year old that he was before the accident. He has a while to go in rehab, but his progress has been remarkable. Three weeks ago he was asked to duplicate shapes, like a square and circle, using a pencil and pad. He did so poorly it scared me. Now, he can write better than I can. The first time he tried to walk using a large, chest high walker he could only take 15 very wobbly steps before tiring out. He now uses a conventional small walker and can do 500’ at a time easily.

Taylor will NEVER again hear me to pull his baggie shorts up. I don’t care if he even wears shorts. When he gets out of rehab, he can walk through the mall in boxers if he wants. Never again will I tell him to comb his hair. If he wants a purple Mohawk, I’ll pay for it and take him to get it done. There are things that mattered before that no longer matter. And, there are things I didn’t realize were as important as I do now.

We have all learned a lot from this. The biggest lesson was that something so bad DOESN’T always happen to other people. It happened to us. But, Taylor was blessed to have survived and come roaring back to us.

We hope others have learned something from Taylor’s pain and suffering. We end every conversation with Taylor and Lauren, whether it’s in person or by phone, with “I love you”. They do the same. That was the last phrase Taylor heard from us on February 28^th, and the last thing we heard from him. Don’t forget to tell those close to you that you love them. Taylor is proof that you never know when the last time will be that you have that chance.

Please continue to pray for Taylor’s full recovery. We don’t know when he’ll come home to us, but we’re hopeful it will be before the end of July.