A story of broken things being put back together
A NEW HOME FOR OUR STORY
Welcome! Whether you're new here or have been following along on our journey from day #1 via GoFundMe, we are glad you made it! We could not continue posting on GoFundMe, so we decided to find a new home for our updates!
Below, you'll find a story that is still unfolding. Yes, it began with trauma, but at its core, it is filled with hope, answered prayers, and the miraculous work of God. Thank you for following along!
Chapter 1 - The Accident
July 30th @ 12:30pm (From Andy)
On the morning of Monday, July 29th, Natalie was hiking with her family in Ketchum, Idaho. Andy and Shepherd had turned around as Natalie and Colton continued on to finish a popular out-and-back hike. Around 11:45am, in a freak accident, Natalie put Colton down to find a walking stick, when a pine tree snapped and landed on top of her, crashing her face first to the ground and coming to rest a couple feet above where she lay. She was unable to move or call for help. Colton, saving mommy’s life, began to run and scream for help. Eventually, a couple hiking heard him screaming and ran to her aid as he led the way, and they dialed 911.
Natalie was hiking at a resort that has a presence of a well-trained Mountain Rescue Team, which responded quickly and began working to stabilize her, eventually backboarding her and loading her into an ATV, which brought her down the mountain to a waiting ambulance team who worked quickly to get her breathing and keep consciousness. She was transported to St. Luke’s Wood River Medical Center in Hailey, Idaho.
The team at St. Luke’s met Natalie at the doors and went to work quickly, intubating Natalie for oxygen, giving her pain meds, normalizing her blood pressure and body temperature, while also helping stabilize a collapsed lung that was filling with blood. Natalie suffered a severely dislocated left hip and knee, which the team at St. Luke’s quickly identified had severed her popliteal artery and was cutting off blood flow to her lower left leg. They worked quickly to get both joints back in place and quickly performed CT Scans and X Rays as they attempted to find an air flight out of the Wood River Valley to a major Trauma Center.
Natalie was airlifted to St. Alphonsus Regional Medical Center in Boise, Idaho where she was taken quickly into a surgery where vascular surgeons took veins from her right leg and built her an artery that they used to do an artery bypass and regain blood flow to her left leg. The surgery is a tentative success and being monitored very closely and Natalie is gaining blood back to her foot.
Through the numerous CT Scans, MRIs, and X-Rays, we’ve learned the extent of many of Natalie’s other major injuries. Aside from numerous staples to close wounds in her scalp, Natalie has a badly broken scapula (left shoulder), 9 broken ribs, 3 broken vertebrae, a broken sacrum, a badly broken hip, and, as of writing, we are awaiting more MRI results to give us details on soft tissue injuries, especially around her left knee and hip. She will be given today to recoup the best she can before having her second surgery, this one to repair her hip socket in surgery tomorrow. She will also need a surgery to pin down her broken sacrum and possibly more surgeries in the near future.
Natalie is currently in a great deal of pain, but was able to, very miraculously and to the astonishment of the nurses here, begin breathing entirely on her own during a routine breathing test early this morning and having her intubation tube traded for oxygen mask around 10:45am. Her breath is labored and painful with so many broken ribs, but she is clinging tightly to the hope she has in Jesus and is deadset that she will walk again, asking every doctor who comes in the room what she needs to do RIGHT NOW to make sure she can walk later.
We want to thank you so sincerely for all of your prayers, texts, phone calls, and support. I apologize that I am not able to quickly or efficiently answer each of you, but each one gives us another dose of hope for the fight. Natalie is a fighter in every way and she whispered to me this morning, in true Natalie form, with zero pretense or arrogance: “this is the fight of my life and I will win.” We will do our best to update this page in the coming hours and days and thank you for being with us on a long journey.
Special thanks to our favorite 5 year old ninja-turtle son, Colton Franks, who had the gift of God in him to know to run and get help for his mommy who he loves so dearly. Thank you to our sister Kate and the Emery Family for staying with Natalie in her darkest hour, pinned under a tree, speaking life into her. Thank you to the total strangers who came and called 911 and rushed to Natalie’s aid. Thank you to the Mountain Rescue Team that not only got Natalie out from under the tree and down the mountain, but also coordinated everything needed for her upon her arrival. Thank you to the ambulance team and the doctors and nurses at St. Luke’s Hospital for keeping her alive and stabilizing her enough that she could start fighting on her own. I want to personally thank the head doctor (she knows who she is) for being one of the greatest leaders I have ever seen, directing, commanding, and fighting for Natalie with precision and detail when she couldn’t fight for herself. Thank you to the airlift team who promised me they’d do everything they could to keep her breathing and alive – they came through on their promise. And thanks to all the surgeons, doctors, nurses, and an epic Catholic Chaplain here at St. Alphonsus Trauma Center who are treating Natalie with a care, kindness, and compassion that is rare in humans these days. Thank you to Lallie & Bampa and Kate for keeping our boys entertained and cared deeply for in our absence.
Chapter 2 - The Trauma Hospital
UPDATE: July 30th @ 2:35pm (From Andy)
Natalie is slowly improving and starting to look and act more like herself. Talking and breathing hurts her a great deal, as 9 of her 12 ribs on her left side are broken. However, at her request she has decided to bear the pain and take only oral pain killers, deciding to forego the stronger narcotics through her IV, which is no surprise if you know her aversion to take anything for anything (think: "wow, she's insanely tough" on this front).
She will be first in line for surgery tomorrow morning (7:30am) to secure her broken sacrum, which will require a screw and maybe a small plate to protect the nerve and vessel endings from the bottom of her spinal cord.
Her MRI's revealed she does have a fully torn ACL & PCL and muscular damage around her left knee, but will wait until returning to California to have that operated on by her knee surgeon in San Diego. Natalie's broken hip has been a topic of a lot of conversation, and the surgeons have concluded that they are going to leave it alone and monitor it, thinking it may be able to heal on its own. Her broken scapula, vertebrae, and ribs are just pain tolerance issues as of now and will not be operated on.
Natalie was able to speak a bit to me today and, at her first request, we FaceTimed Colton. She cried as she thanked him for helping save her life and find her help.
I will update more tomorrow, but this will likely be it for the day. Lots of moving pieces and complications in putting her back together, but she's breathing, she's tough, she's strong, and she's fighting with her head up in a way that is quietly intense, powerful, and palpable to anyone who steps in the room. Thanks for all the prayers and support, we are immensely grateful.
UPDATE: July 31st @ 8:30am (From Andy)
We're coming to grips with this road being very long and winding: Natalie cleared a lot of great hurdles yesterday, but after 2 steps forward is taking a few little steps back. She is in tremendous pain, but unable to increase pain meds at this time because of their impact on her heart rate and breathing. Even lifting her bed up a few inches results in such discomfort and pain that it's usually 20-30 minutes before she's settled back.
Her sacrum surgery has been rescheduled for 10:05am this morning and should take slightly longer than 3 hours to complete. Please pray for her pain when she comes out, as they will have to rotate her to operate in a way that will be extremely taxing on her broken ribs, shoulder, and back.
She is having trouble taking deep breaths with her broken ribs and is at high risk of developing pneumonia. She will have a CT Scan today to double-check if any of her ribs are displaced. If so, they may elect to plate any ribs that are near her lungs to help give her space to inhale and exhale more deeply.
Good News: her greatest long-term threat was her ruptured popliteal artery, which was operated on when she was airlifted to Boise. Despite being warned of some potential risks and side effects, her surgery seems to continue to heal well and progress, and she has not experienced any of the possible issues related to it. Her foot continues to gain color, mobility, and a little strength. She does have "drop foot." Her surgeon is optimistic that nerves were very irritated and will take significant time to heal, but he does believe they restored blood flow to her leg before they were permanently damaged, but only time will tell.
Natalie has little bursts of wake time when she is lucid and able to talk in a hoarse whisper. These times usually last about 5-8 minutes, and I spend most of my time with her reassuring her she's going to be okay and reminding her where she is and why she's here (she has zero recollection of what happened to her and has no memory until after they took her intubation out). She always asks about Colton and Shepherd and wants to know where they are and if they are safe. She has been holding a little Lego Man Colton sent with me to give to her, along with Shep's favorite green hot wheel race car. She then asks about her mom, "Lallie," and wants to make sure Lallie knows she's here and not to worry. I try to pepper in some of the texts and messages I've received from many of you reading this and she loves to hear them. She asks me to read texts and Instagram captions, etc., and usually dozes back off as I read them to her.
I decided to tell her about this GoFundMe today for the first time before her surgery. She just quietly wept with tears running down her face and whispered "try your best to tell them all thank you."
Special thanks to Pastor Danny Kurimay & my best friend Jimmy Reeves for "just showing up" for us at a tough time. I opened an elevator door and they were just standing there. They had flown in to pray over Natalie and offer their support, which was a major gust in our sails.
UPDATE: July 31st @ 10:40pm (From Kate & Andy)
Today was a crash course in how trauma in the hospital works: a plan for the day is laid out in clear and precise detail, communicated (and even elaborated on), only to be completely changed and rendered irrelevant within a couple of hours. This is exactly how Natalie's day started. Her planned 7:30am surgery turned into a "short delay," followed by a "we need a new CT scan of her ribs 'just real quick,'" followed by "we're ready for surgery," followed by "she actually isn't going to have the surgery today and is back in her room." Long story short, it was a huge curveball after prepping her mentally for what was to come, but it was actually a major blessing in disguise, allowing her to have a day to rest and recuperate.
We anticipate there being many peaks and valleys, but want to share more of the positives than the negatives from the day. Natalie us growing in her awareness of where she is, why she's here, and what injuries she has sustained. She's clearly processing it all (and it's obviously a lot), but it is coming out in small bursts of motivation and even some humor (she told Andy to shut up today and joked with a nurse that her eyebrows may be perfect, but her tan is not...). She is now requesting simple foods, drinking water, and she even brushed her own teeth with a cup of water with very little assistance!
Natalie's older sister, Kate, and her husband, Jeff, have taken over in Boise, with Kate in the hospital, relieving Andy for the afternoon and night so he could drive back to Sun Valley and be with he and Natalie's boys, Colton (5.5) and Shepherd (almost 2). Kate is exactly what Natalie needed today and quickly pointed out that somehow Natalie managed to land herself in a hospital within 3 minutes of a Whole Foods, where all her favorite food requests are available just how she likes them!
Natalie is working hard on her respiratory therapy, and while she is not doing amazing, she is approaching it like she approaches everything else: with tenacity, focus, and intensity to improve. For all of Natalie's Trim Tribe out there, Kate is motivating Natalie by telling her: "If you can make me hold in superlunge, then you can push yourself in this respiratory exercises!" You can pray that Natalie would continue to improve and grow in her endurance and strength to inhale and exhale deeply (very painful with her 9 broken ribs).
Many are asking for more detailed updates, so here are some of the hurdles that Natalie will need to get through in the coming days (please remember we're still in the phase where things change very quickly):
Natalie will have sacrum surgery at 7:30am on Thursday morning now. The sacrum sits at the bottom of the pelvis and protects and houses a lot of nerves and blood vessels. Before they can begin any sort of PT or therapy to get Natalie even a tiny bit of movement and mobility, they need to fix it to protect her spinal cord. They are not 100% sure how it will look when they open her up but are anticipating a small incision site with a plate slightly larger than the size of a penny and two small screws.
A CT Scan has revealed that 3 or 4 of her broken ribs are displaced. While they can and will heal themselves with time with no intervention, they are concerned that those ribs may be pressing on Natalie's collapsed lung and preventing its full healing. If her lung doesn't heal soon, they may have to do surgery to plate her ribs purely to get them out of the way of her lungs. One way to speed up the process is to work hard in respiratory therapy and improve each day, and that's what she's trying to do. If she can get her lung to fully heal, they will take rib surgery off the table and just continue to help her manage the pain.
Speaking of collapsed lungs... They took Natalie's lung tube out today! The tube was initially put in as an emergency measure at the worst moments of Natalie's journey to pump out the blood that was flowing into Natalie's collapsed lung (the story of that tube is for another day, but it may have literally saved her life). The last update was that there were no longer any signs of blood in her lung, and the lung had improved beyond the need for it to be in her. She is breathing (relatively) well on her own and is only using supplemental oxygen when she sleeps.
Natalie is still in tremendous pain. Strangely, she rarely complains about her knee, which has a fully torn ACL, MCL, and PCL along with muscle damage, or her broken spine, or her broken hip, or the many staples in her scalp. She always mentions her ribs first and shoulder second. By a total miracle, the surgeon told us that her shoulder "does look like a pinata after the kids smashed it and got the candy out," but that "she has so much muscle tone in the shoulder, the multiple pieces are still all held in the correct location" - they think it will heal entirely on its own! They have adjusted Natalie's pain med schedule and found a good rhythm that seems to work well for her to sleep and rest with some comfort.
There are many more things and small miracles to report, and those stories will come out over time. The improvements are often small, but we are leaning into God and celebrating even the tiny things. We have noticed and are choosing to celebrate the small things like Natalie is now able to talk very quietly instead of a nearly inaudible hoarse whisper. She is able to sustain conversations for sometimes 5 minutes at a time, whereas yesterday, even 2 minutes was labored. Some of her humor and wit are coming back, she's remembering more and more from earlier in the day, etc. (for those who have asked, Natalie does not remember any details from her accident and has no memory from the moment Colton walked away from her on the hiking trail until roughly 30 minutes after they woke her up and took out her breathing tube in the hospital in Boise). For a miracle story, Colton and Natalie have matching accounts: Colton had actually been riding on Natalie's back mere seconds before the tree hit her. Had it happened 30 seconds earlier, it would have hit both Natalie and Colton.
Today we want to take some time to thank some more people who have given us hope, spoken words of encouragement, reminded us to prepare for a marathon not a sprint, and have just gone over and above. Special thanks to Taylor Jensen for coming to the hospital on a moment's notice to sit and hold Natalie's hand while she slept so she would not go a single minute without someone by her bedside while Andy switched roles with Natalie's sister Kate and her brother-in-law, Jeff. Thanks to Kate for bringing her "Kate-ness" with her to advocate for Natalie, to notice details that need tending to, and not settling for "good enough," but holding doctors and nurses to the gold standard of caring for Natalie with their very best foot forward every single time, with no excuses. Thanks to Lallie & Bampa for running after our wild boys and to Ashley & Lance Emery for sharing the load of caring for our boys when we're away from them. Thanks to Pastor Danny Kurimay and Jimmy Reeves for "just showing up" and rallying behind Andy as he cares for Natalie, helping him process, pray, and make decisions from God's abundant wisdom. Thanks to Bridge Community Church in Orange, California for holding a special prayer night to lift up Natalie in prayer tonight. And special thanks to all of you reading this for praying, reaching out, sending notes, loving on us, and supporting us during this rough season.
Many are asking about visiting and sending gifts. For the time being, we have decided that only family will be allowed with Natalie. She is in a very delicate window of time and, as Natalie does, will try to "host" and "accommodate" guests to her own detriment. The time will come, but the time is not now. If you are thinking of sending a gift, card, flowers, balloons, etc., please contact a family member first - her room is not enormous, and we want to check with her to make sure we keep it as perfectly situated for her to feel loved, but also able to rest peacefully.
Thanks for reading this far and being our friends, your words have kept us going in some tremendously difficult and dark chunks of time. Blessings.
UPDATE: August 1st @ 2:45pm (Kate, Andy, & Christopher)
This morning began with another curveball, go figure. Natalie was taken into surgery to check on her broken hip while also operating on her sacrum, as detailed in the previous post. Well, more good news (sort of): it turns out that the X-Rays were being obscured by Natalie's hip being broken worse than they had anticipated (the bad news), but what they were seeing in regards to her sacrum was the hip and the sacrum did not need to be operated on after all. Instead, they switched gears and inserted a handful of plates and 7-8 screws to secure Natalie's hip (pictured below). The good news is that operating on hips is much more common and does not require getting close to Natalie's spinal cord as the original sacrum surgery would have required! We knew it was a possibility that Natalie was going to need blood, and she did end up having a transfusion today, getting 2 pints of blood and platelets.
Kate & Jeff were with her all night and this morning, directing nursing care to her needs and helping her remain calm, motivated and resting! Some day you may hear legends of Natalie's sister, Kate, and the way her love for her sister came out in contending for the best care possible for her sister! One of the most important things for Natalie is just keeping track of the reams-worth of information that comes at us. We are beginning to get some insight into follow-ups, future surgeries that will need to happen, rehab, PT, and the ongoing care Natalie will need to begin regaining some limited mobility in the short-term, and, by God's grace, full movement into the future!
Natalie's oldest brother, Christopher, flew into Boise earlier in the day and is with her now as she comes out of her surgery. He brought with her a new rendition of a very famous family sign with a family Scripture that Natalie shared for our niece Saylor, when she began her journey through multiple open-heart surgeries. The Scripture is Isaiah 41:10 and says "So do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, and I will uphold you with my righteous right hand!" (picture attached).
We're learning that every day there will be a list of ongoing, ever-changing details when they just "find more." It is sometimes tough to swallow in realtime, but they are the reality of Natalie's condition, so we are taking them in stride, and praying that God would help us see the light in dark places and remain positive and hopeful for Natalie. Today they discovered that on top of Natalie's badly broken shoulder is a badly torn labrum. They also detected a tiny bit of blood left in her left lung, so they are going to reinstall a more precise tube and pump to help clear it as her lung continues to heal. Natalie's "drop foot" is still being monitored and they are hopeful that it will not be a permanent issue, but have warned that the nerves will likely take 6 months to fully heal before we will know the full extent of the injury. The good news is that her newly constructed artery is still functioning well and there is no blood clotting!
Natalie is resting well and the nursing staff seems to have found a pain medication combination that is working better for her to rest. Whereas she was reporting resting pain levels of 8 & 9 (out of 10) and moving pain levels of 10, she is now saying she is more of a 6 or 7 when resting! She is also cracking people up with her obsession with a little fan that she does not want attached to the bed, but wants to hold and be in control of (pictured).
Andy will head back to Boise to meet up with Christopher and get filled in this evening to stay the night with Natalie and we will update you more as details emerge tonight and tomorrow, but the bottom line is this: Natalie is alive, she's aware and gaining alertness, her pain is coming down, and some of the details are starting to line up to give us a bit of a picture of what will be next. She has not stopped fighting and continues to push forward!
Thanks again today, especially to Megan and Elle Pierson for flying into Sun Valley to be extra hands to care for our boys and immediately boost morale. For Christopher, who flew to Boise to offer support in the hospital for Natalie, and for all of you who have reached out with prayers, scriptures, and your love!
UPDATE: August 2nd @ 11:10pm (Andy & Christopher)
Last night and into the morning, Natalie's older brother, Christopher, stayed by her side and held down the fort in her room, and Andy returned from Sun Valley around 9am. Of all the days we've had so far, today seemed the most straightforward in Natalie's care. Pastor Danny and Jimmy Reeves stopped by one final time to pray for Natalie as they departed back to Orange County.
The day of Natalie's accident, she had an emergency drainage tube put into her lung. Because it was so urgent at the time, the tube was placed with a "just get it in there" mentality, but needed to be removed and replaced with a new tube in a better location. They placed the new chest tube that is fed into an incision, then through her ribs and into her lungs - within an hour of placement, the drain had produced about 500cc (or about a normal water bottle amount) of blood and fluid from her lung and then turned into a slow drip and then... nothing (great news). The incision and tube caused her a lot of discomfort and pain in the short run, but the positive is that it seems she is resting a bit easier without all that fluid buildup in her lung!
Natalie has continued working hard in respiratory therapy as they really push to get that left collapsed lung back up and stable. The good news is that it seems less and less likely that Natalie will need any surgical intervention on her ribs. She is still very weak in her breathing exercises, which consist primarily of exhaling with strength and duration, but today she had a new determination and focus that was a reminder of how driven and powerful Natalie can be when she sets her mind to a goal.
This morning was Natalie's first Physical Therapy / Occupational Therapy session. It was a reminder to keep our eyes peeled for small victories, as it began to stretch her pain tolerance immediately. Their goal is to slowly work toward the ability to sit upright with assistance, but even leaning her forward was a test, as every one of her 9 broken ribs and 3 vertebrae slowly started to flex. At one point, as she was wincing in pain, the PT asked her if that was where she'd like to stop and use it as the benchmark for next time, Natalie told her, "no, just hold me for a second to take a deep breath, but let's keep going a little more, I think I can handle it." Maybe more than anyone else, I know how strong Natalie is, but I told her tonight that I think I'm about to witness strength and depth of determination that I didn't know was possible.
Over the past 36 hours Natalie has also received a number of blood transfusions. We had been told this was a possibility considering her blood levels had been teetering at the bare minimum they were comfortable with since she arrived. Her body has taken the blood and platelets quite well, and I (Andy) got emotional seeing her this morning for the first time since she got the new blood because she is finally looking like Natalie again! It was such a joy to see the life in her face, I stopped to take a picture to remember how beautiful and at peace she looked, I didn't want to forget it (yes, I posted the exact picture below).
Today was also a day of just grinding to get stuff done. Christopher and I just divided and conquered, calling other surgeons for opinions, consulting with her surgeons her for updates on her recovery, collecting medical records, touring an in-patient rehab facility, and navigating what a short-term move to Boise, Idaho is going to look like. Natalie will likely remain in Idaho after her discharge, but only long enough to recoup some strength and get some mobility through PT and OT in her broken ribs, shoulder, and hips. Once her pain is under control, she will likely head back to Orange County to have her left knee rebuilt. We have no idea what the timeline will look like. It may be a couple of weeks or over a month, but we will walk it out and praise God for her life every step of the way.
One big blessing we are learning is that Natalie's stay here has now been long enough that she is becoming familiar with all the nursing staff and therapists. Even in her labored voice and pain, she's beginning to make fun connections, and her commentary and little banter are all signs that she's coming back to herself. For example, a respiratory therapist came, knocking on the door and coming in the room today to do some exercises and announced, "your least favorite person in the entire hospital is here!" and she cracked a small smile with her eyes still closed and said, "Yes, you're definitely not my favorite," they chuckled together as she got ready.
It dawned on me today that in the span of human history, we are living in one of the only times and places to have ever existed that Natalie can still be alive and with us today, and for that, we are all grateful. I also wanted you to know that I began sitting with Natalie today and reading her more of your notes and comments - shoutout Ruth ("the ruth is on fire!"); I read her your note in a stretch a pain, and she was put at ease by your words and the depth of your friendship and faith to encourage her. If you would like me to read Natalie an encouragement, I can't promise I can make it through them all, but please send them to me - I'd love to have them ready when she asks, as she is so grateful and loves them read to her.
Updates may be slow coming over the next few days as we wrap up our "vacation" in Sun Valley, some family heads home, and Shepherd and Colton and some others move to Boise for the next week and beyond. We will keep you posted on how to send things to Natalie's room because she's starting to pep up and be ready for that and thank you to all who already have sent beautiful things!
UPDATE: August 3rd @ 11:45pm (The Whole Village)
After many days of nonstop ups and downs, today was the first day that everyone who was with Natalie in the hospital agreed was just a downright good day! Natalie's rapport with her nurses really paid off around 2am. I (Andy) woke up with her awesome nurse tapping on the door to check on her. This nurse really loves Natalie and fights to "get ahead of the pain" to keep Natalie comfortable and had brought Natalie some meds for her IV. She asked me to help her hold Natalie's arm still as she slowly administered it, attempting to not even wake her up, but Natalie was laboring to breathe and in obvious discomfort and pain. The nurse took a routine look at Natalie's midsection to inspect the site of her chest tube (fluid drainage from her lungs), paused to look closely, and then commented, "Look right here; I think she's having muscle spasms, I think I have an idea." After chatting with her colleagues, they decided to experiment with Natalie's medications and slowly began to administer more muscle relaxers for those cramps & muscle spasms nobody had noticed until her wonderful night nurse took the time to pay close attention. The fruit of that decision was reaped almost immediately for Natalie's day! First, she woke up clear headed in a way we haven't seen since her injury. By the time Christopher arrived around 8:30am, he almost couldn't believe she was the same sister that he wished a goodnight just 10 hours earlier. She is now on more muscle relaxers, which are helping curb the pain in and around her 9 broken ribs, but a bit less pain medication, which has helped her stay alert and vibrant in a fresh way. On top of that, she had the endurance to talk for more than just a couple minutes, even taking a solid 20-minute stretch to make her first phone call since the incident (to her mom) and Facetime with the boys back in Sun Valley! I paused and to snap a picture of her FaceTime with the boys as Christopher held the phone for her, and her joy was explosive (pictured below).
The next "victory" for Natalie was "a day of beauty" as her sister called it. It started with Christopher and I attempting to spray detangler in Natalie's hair and brush it for her. I personally thought I was knocking my job out of the park, but then I was told I was nearly useless on the hairbrushing front and downirhgt awful. In fact, it dawned on me that it may have been my first time ever combing a girl's hair... go figure. Christopher did his best as well, and Natalie commented that he was significantly better, although not fantastic himself. However, a few hours later, in the early afternoon, Natalie's sister, Kate, our sister-in-law, Megan, and our niece, Elle, arrived to take over being by Natalie's side. In short order, Natalie's hair was brushed, and spa day in the 8th floor of Saint Alphonsus Trauma Center had commenced and Natalie was at the center of it all.
The last thing that happened today that was just a mind-boggling victory was Natalie's PT. With lots of anxiety and stress after yesterday's session (barely able to be rotated without debilitating pain), Natalie found a new motivation: "get moving and active or risk pneumonia," as the rounding trauma surgeon warned her. If you know Natalie even a little bit, you know you don't need to tell her twice... challenge accepted. What happened next was so unexpected that I found myself just staring in total awe at her! She bit her lip, held the PT's forearm with her good arm, and just trusted her. The connection and trust they had just clicked and before I knew it, Natalie was almost completely in the seated position (pictured below). This may seem like a small feat if you're jumping into the story at this update, but the reality is that this small movement seemed months away only days ago. The PT commented that Natalie's physical condition (Trim Fitness Fit to be exact) was paying numerous dividends and Christopher and I looked at each other blown away by her willingness to push past pain, lock in her focus, and trust the PT.
Special thanks to Christopher, who has used his own experience from countless nights in hospitals to download wisdom into gearing up for the marathon this will be. His ability to break down complex lists and make thing managable has made a huge difference for our family as we gear up for a bit more time in Boise. Thanks to my sister-in-law Megan, niece, Elle, and Natalie's sister, Kate, who brought laughter back into Natalie's life and, to my utter shock and amazement, literally packed up my entire Sun Valley condo while I was in Boise. Thanks to Ashley and Lance Emery for being honorary aunt & uncle to Colton in Sun Valley these last few days, not only taking him along for their adventures but pouring their love for Jesus into his little heart and mind. Thanks to Bampa for watching the boys for just long enough at the river so that I could catch a trout and not be skunked this year and to Lallie for always keeping us in order with dinner in front of the boys, diapers changed, teeth brushed, laundry cleaned and folded, and being the one the kids beg to tickle their legs and back as they wind down each night.
Each day brings new challenges, new updates, new injuries, dings and dents they didn't notice before, new opportunities, new victories, and new chances to trust that God is in control and authoring this story to its completion. "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness" (Lamentation 3:22-23).
UPDATE: August 5th @ 12:20am (Andy & Natalie)
Tonight/this Morning's update will be more of a grab bag of miscellaneous news and notes and even a story correction and addition. I’ll end by sharing with you what Natalie wanted to have in the update tonight: a prayer request about a big upcoming decision. Here we go…
The giant news of the day was the sweetest moment of Natalie’s journey so far to watch as her husband: our boys finally got to see their mommy! Shepherd marched right in, said, “Hi, Mom,” and then got sidetracked by the trash can near Natalie’s bed, which he said was “awesome.” It wasn’t long before he was cracking himself up, pushing her hospital bed buttons, making her go up and down, but that was before she taught him to use the patient remote to turn lights on and off and even open the blinds remotely. He was very impressed with her setup and had some sweet moments holding her hand and wanted to be lifted up to kiss her. Colton was much more reserved. In fact, he spent about 30 seconds with Natalie, taking it all in, before asking to return to the Family Waiting Room. Natalie is such an emotional rock, reassuring me with, “I’m a big girl - I don’t want him to be forced to do anything he’s not ready to do.” It honestly made my daddy’s heart a little sad, but about 20 minutes later, Colton decided he wanted to try again. This time he asked her a little bit about some of her IVs and, ultimately, asked his Aunt Kiki to hold him up to kiss her too. I’ve attached a couple of photos of the boys’ interactions with Natalie just so you can shed tears like I did.
Natalie’s “ups” are slowly starting to outweigh her “downs,” and she is clearly gaining some momentum. For the second day in a row the big victory was her PT session, which was already monumental yesterday as she was helped into the seated position. I noted how mind-blowing that was yesterday in light of the reality that just raising and lowering her hospital bed made her bite her lip in pain, but then today came around, and we found out she was actually just getting started. I don’t really know how to write the words to do her justice, so I’ll just post the picture of her getting her good leg onto the ground with her braced knee out before her [insert mind-blowing emoji here].
When I first saw this picture come through in our group chat, I was genuinely startled. I’m learning about how deep my desire to protect and care for her is, but it has limits and boundaries that sometimes Natalie isn’t interested in being bound by. Her idea of being pushed by the Physical Therapist honestly makes me queasy and uneasy, even setting off alarms in my mind that they are hurting her. When we were finally alone around 9:30pm tonight, I asked her about PT, knowing her pain level is very high when she does it. She said her pain was probably about a 9 to 9.5 today during that photo, but she’s figured out to “just think about the boys,” and it gets her past all the mental hurdles. I asked her if she was already at 9.5, if there was a pain level she’d have to be to quit during the PT sessions. She responded, “I hadn’t thought about it, but maybe I’d have to be on the edge of passing out?”
A handful of items that are all beginning: Natalie got her chest tube out and has spent longer and longer stretches without supplemental oxygen! She’s been hammering out her Respiratory Therapy and slowly starting to improve her lung endurance and strength. She is also slowly starting to be able to find comfortable positions to lay more quickly, and even watched a little bit of the Olympics today. Additionally, you may be reading this and already know that Natalie now has her phone with her and is beginning to sift through many hundreds (probably pushing one thousand) of messages and social media posts to respond and thank those of you who have reached out directly to her. I’m writing this update right now, watching her admirably over my computer screen, and I just told her how classy she is: she wants to make sure everyone who reached out to her knows how much she appreciates them. One funny note from my observation watching her: she can’t really type messages out, so she’s voice texting and, from time to time, is getting very irritable with the phone for not hearing her soft voice correctly.
Two things I want to write are less of an update and more of a correction and an addition. We have slowly begun to receive reports of her accident from the various agencies that responded. As we’ve read through them and talked to more people who were there, a few things are clear: almost all the details are exactly the same for every person, including Colton, who was the only true eyewitness to the accident itself. However, there are some details that have been corrected; one of them has been part of this story from the beginning for most of us, but it is actually not true at all: Natalie was not pinned under the tree! Despite firefighters responding to the scene with chainsaws and reporting to have successfully removed the tree, the tree actually snapped and hit Natalie with its force from behind, but hit the ground at an angle and was suspended above her. One first responder estimated it broke roughly 2 to 3 feet off the ground. The addition is more of a little baby-miracle in my mind: it turns out that the woman who helped remove and shield Colton from the situation and eventually walked Colton down the mountain to me was a longtime school teacher. While I don’t know what grade she taught, I like to imagine she was a kindergarten teacher because of her gentle and kind spirit toward him and the fact that Colton will start kindergarten in just a couple of weeks.
The last little tidbit for the night is from Natalie herself. Tomorrow will be a big day talking to surgeons and making a couple of big decisions regarding her demolished left knee. Natalie and I are asking for prayer, direction, and wisdom as we balance different options for the surgery itself, analyze the risks and benefits for the future of her knee, and make a sound decision that will be led by God. It is no secret that Natalie’s heart’s desire is way more than walking just without a limp or getting some movement and sensation back in her foot: she wants to skateboard after Shepherd and ride bikes with Colton. She wants to do Lagree Fitness with her Trim Tribe with no major modifications. And what may come as a surprise to many of you is that she wants to hike under the pine trees in Idaho again. Please join us in praying not only for sound decision-making and God’s Wisdom but for outcomes that are near to Natalie’s heart. She wants to thank you and is thinking she’d like to dictate a short update for me to write in the near future (stay tuned for that one)!
UPDATE: August 6th @ 9:15am (Andy)
Natalie is slowly making progress! Some days it's difficult to see in real time, but when you pause and think about where she was 48 hours earlier, it's hard for the word "miracle" to not be one of the first words on your lips. Yesterday marked 1-week since Natalie's accident, and the amount of improvement is mind-boggling considering that last Monday her life was being held on a razor's edge. I snapped this photo of Natalie "fighting on" with a beautiful bouquet one of her Pi Phi Sorority sisters sent her. If you know anything about Natalie and the Pierson Family, it's that USC is a way of life. Natalie grew up dressing up as a Song Girl for Halloween, attended football games, watched her siblings go off to college there, and basically knew everything about USC before she even stepped foot on the campus as a student in 2008. I showed her this photo for "wifey-photo-approval," as one does, and she looked at it for a while and then said, "Tell them that I'm learning that the USC 'fight on spirit' is more than a slogan, it's a mentality that can be brought into every life fight!" She wants to say hi to her Pi Phi sisters who are following along.
Yesterday & today, Natalie started checking off some more of the boxes required to discharge her and transport her across the street to the Rehab Facility, which is set up exactly like the hospital room she's currently in, but with a very directed and intense Physical & Occupational Therapy regimen (3 hours per day)! Natalie was able to lose her hip drain yesterday and used almost no supplemental oxygen until she went to sleep for the night. She was able, with help, to get into the seated position at the edge of her bed today during her PT. They helped her find her balance and slowly removed their support (just in the "catch her if she falls" position), and then the PT started a timer. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes... 34 minutes before Natalie tapped out and said she'd had enough! She was able to get her pain meds immediately following and took a very well-deserved, long nap!
Natalie is continuing to work toward transferring to a chair (or bedside toilet), but it is slow going and very hard work. She is experiencing a symptom of severe trauma that displaces small crystals in the inner ear and makes being upright difficult. She gets rushes of nausea and reports that she feels like the room is spinning, similar to vertigo. She is (right this second) in another PT session and pushing herself to try again.
A few other updates and baby steps we're all excited about for Natalie's progress: while her pain can be extreme, she's getting closer and closer to her next pain med cycle before her pain is really hitting her. Her night nurse says this is a good sign that her pain is ever-so-slowly starting to decrease, and her ability to find a comfortable position growing by the day.
The boys and I had a little hiccup with our housing situation, but with some awesome help from one of Natalie's great friends here in Boise (shoutout Taylor) and family members (Kate & Megan, especially), we were able to find a new solution that is perfect for the boys - a single story house (no dangerous stairs) with a nice, big, grassy enclosed yard! We have been marveling how the people here in Idaho are just downright hospitable and gracious, so here is a God-story: Shepherd, Colton, and I moved into a new rental house, and when we arrived, we were totally spent, it was hot, we had no idea where we were going, and we pulled in to a contractor in the garage of the house doing some work. "Oh great, they aren't even ready for us," I thought. I got out to figure it out and met the contractor, Jordan, who told me he was literally putting the finishing touches on a complete renovation, and we were actually the very first people to ever stay in the house. After showing me around, he got quiet, then said something to the effect of, "I don't want to be weird, but are you a Christian?" Long story short, we've connected and plan on letting our kids play together. His wife showed up this morning to deliver a breakfast casserole for us! This was exactly what we needed and we're looking forward to what God has in store while we live there. On top of that, another neighbor showed up yesterday with a batch of German cookies she had made. She said she saw my boys playing and knew we were new to the neighborhood and wanted to meet us and say hello.
Last night Natalie slept like a champ. At one point, I looked over and snapped the picture below. Here is my pastoral thought (I promise I won't preach in words too long): this situation is, in so many ways, rightfully labeled a nightmare, and I'm confident we could go down that path and let it become even more so. It's a place where a lot of pain has been experienced by Natalie, a lot of tears have been shed, a lot of bad news has been shared, even a place where some hopes have been dashed. However, this little room has become a place with rhythm and routine; we look forward to hearing the nursing assignments in the morning, reconnecting with the ones we know, and meeting the ones we don't. Some nurses just pop in now, even when they're not assigned to Natalie, just to say hello and fill her in on something she wanted to know about them. It's a place where great hope has come through the door in the shape of friends and family. It's a place where we've been inspired by Natalie's determination and willingness to fight. It's "home base" as we realize just how much people love Natalie, showering her with love and planning to visit. She is teaching a lot of us some very valuable lessons: being kind and generous even when it's inconvenient (or painful), staying true to her character of absolute class, insisting on thanking everyone she can via voice text (don't talk while she's voice texting or you get: 1) evil eye, 2) stop that, and 3) "shut up, please..."), reminding us to cling to hope and seeing beautiful things even in dark places!
Thank you to all who are checking in, it is a roller coaster ride to be sure, but it seems like a lot is begin to fall into place. Natalie will likely be transferred to rehab later this week and we are still chatting and praying, but leaning toward her knee surgery happening here too. We are praying and God is connecting dots with wonderful people on all fronts, so we will keep you posted on the timing of things as they come. There is a little calendar full of friends coming to inject hope and motivation into Natalie's next phase of recovery, but our ultimate goal is to get home to Orange County with our dearest family, friends, and neighbors. Until the next update, FIGHT ON!
UPDATE: August 7th @ 11:45pm (Natalie, Kate & Jodie)
The following is a transcribed interview that Kate & Jodie had with Natalie this afternoon. After coming up with some awesome (and hilarious) questions, the three of them slowly veered toward absolute comedy and the recording was impossible to listen to without snorting and laughing along with them. I think you all will enjoy Natalie in her own words. The questions in bold are asked by Kate & Jodie and the answers below are, to the best of my ability, verbatim from Natalie's mouth! Enjoy!
What has been the most challenging part of your recovery so far?
I think we take for granted the ability to move without thinking. Just the simplicity of going to the grocery store and putting the things away or even using the restroom have all been stripped away from me. It leaves me feeling stuck, and, as a very active person, it has been very, very hard for me to come to grips with.
Are there any lessons you are learning from this experience you would want to share with others?
If you have kids, it’s really important to talk to your kids about what to do if something happens to mom and dad; where to go, who to call, what to do, etc. I’ve also learned just how important your community is, and sometimes you don’t know until you're forced to rely on your community. As someone who is naturally self-sufficient and stubborn, it’s hard to say “yes” to someone helping me, but I also am learning that saying “yes” gives people the opportunities they need to grow and live out their God-given gifts to serve. All of this has forced a new sense of humility upon me but also showed me that the great deal of energy I have put into some of my most important friendships over so many years really comes to fruition at times like this.
How do you plan on staying positive during your recovery?
Everything in our lives is about perspective. It is so so easy to get sucked into thinking only about what you don’t have or what you can’t do at the moment, but if you allow your mindset to shift in that direction, you’ll go headfirst into a downward spiral. Ultimately it will be easy, it will be my faith; it will be that I put my faith in Jesus Christ and know that I’m never alone. The second thing is prayer – prayer is bringing people together and it helps me so much when I need a mindset shift away from negativity. I’m grounded in Jesus, and it gives me a weird ability to see and look for hope even in a situation like the one I’m in.
What are you looking forward to the most once you’re fully recovered?
I just want to be with my boys. It’s been very trying and hard for me to feel like I just get little pieces of them for 5 or 10 minutes at a time versus being with them all day. My greatest joy in life is being a present mom who gets to be with her boys and I’m doing everything I can to have that back as soon as possible.
If this whole thing were a movie, what would be the title?
“Whack. Out of the blue.” [Uncontrollable laughing with Kate & Jodie]
Are you secretly planning to write a new book, How Not to Hike?
[Natalie laughs uncontrollably] I can’t believe this question, it’s hilarious, but in a bad way! [laughs more].
What superhero power would you want to have right now to make your recovery easier?
[ANSWER REDACTED FOR OUR FAMILY AUDIENCE]
Which would you prefer: a year without hiking or a year without chocolate?
I’m not sure, but I think I should just go ahead and let everyone know that I’ve fallen back in love with really low-quality pudding in this hospital. I know it’s super out of character, but I’ve basically ordered a snack pack pudding with every meal! I don’t always actually end up eating it, but I always feel in the moment like it’s a good idea to order it.
[Okay, back to serious] How has the support from your family and friends impacted your recovery process?
Oh, they have been almost my entire recovery process. From moment #1, our closest friends and family just stepped up to jump in and help. Just the stability of knowing that at all times, my kids are safe and taken care of, my husband is well supported and can support me, and I can focus right here on my healing has been everything. Other than my faith, it’s the most important thing so far.
What role does humor play in your healing process?
I think in a situation like this, you are either laughing or your crying. There are times for both for sure; I have definitely allowed my sadness and frustration to come out and I think it’s natural and healthy to let it out. Bottling those things up will not end well, so I’m not afraid to let it out, but there are also times when you just need to make a joke.
[Editor’s note on Natalie using humor to heal: Natalie’s two great friends from Trim Fitness Studio, Melissa & Erika, came into town today and went into Natalie’s room to see her. As they were holding her hand and saying how sorry they were for what happened, Natalie commented: “You guys! Can you believe it?! I’m forever going to be ‘that lady who got crushed by a tree!’ I don’t know how I can live with this reputation!”]
What are some of the coping strategies you’ve found helpful in your recovery journey so far?
I’m not sure this answers the question, but I’ve been totally obsessed with airflow. I have two little fans pointed at me at all times and people are making fun of me because they are saying my portable fans are “my best friends.” Christopher (Natalie's oldest brother) helped me name one of them “Fanny” and the other one is just “Best Friend.”
How do you envision your first hike back after you have recovered?
I think what happened to me was the definition of a totally freak accident. I don’t think I have any fear at all of being back in nature, but I also think I’ll benefit from not being able to remember what happened to me. I didn’t see the tree hit me, and I don’t remember what it was like afterward, so that will probably help. The bottom line is that I just don’t believe in living in fear, so even if it's hard at first, I won’t let this experience push me into living in fear.
If you could design a new hospital food menu, what ridiculous dish would you include?
Easy! Gluten-free barbeque chicken pizza. Oh! And also a snack pack pudding, but with healthy ingredients.
What is one appliance you would add to every hospital room for all patients?
A mini fridge… probably to store kombucha.
We will have some more updates coming in the next few days, with some big changes upcoming, but until then, remember that life is fragile and temporary: hold fast to those you love, don't wait to tell people you love them, laugh your way through hard times and always lean into hope! Natalie has chosen Jesus as her ultimate hope and if you've read this far, you know her hope has not wavered and has carried her this far. Keep reading along to see how far her hope in Jesus will continue to carry her!
UPDATE: August 9th @ 1:30pm (Andy)
Natalie has been “winning the day” for a few days in a row now, and the momentum is clearly growing! Her tenacity to tackle Physical Therapy has been an absolute marvel to watch. Her goals have been set as being able (with help) to do the basic functions she will need to be able to do when she is transferred to the rehab facility down the street (more on that later). She has gone from (literally) being unable even to tolerate her bed moving up and down because of the pain to being able to be rotated on her side for a few seconds at a time, to sitting up with help, to sitting at the edge of her bed alone for 34 minutes, to transferring to a recliner chair, using her good arm to pivot her into a bedside potty, and then yesterday, all the way into a wheelchair! Check it out:
As I write now, I’m sitting here with Natalie and asking her about her pain and doing all these impressive things every day. Her comments are simple yet profound: “Everything in our lives comes at a cost. Some of the greatest things I’ve ever achieved or been blessed with came at great cost; sometimes, those costs have just been downright painful. Sometimes the pain is emotional, and sometimes it’s physical. I just decided that my goal is to be healthy and strong so that I can be the mom and wife I want to be. I want to be present and able to play and run; I want to sit on the floor and wrestle and hold my boys, and I keep all that in mind because I have decided – I know what the cost I’m going to pay. It’s going to be very hard and very painful and my body is going to tell me to stop a lot, but I already made up my mind that I’m willing to pay it.” Each day we have brought the kids to see Natalie and her heart jumps to see them, to talk to them, to watch them play. Slowly, they are getting more comfortable and can't wait to pick a new toy to show mommy!
[Please note before reading this paragraph: graphic potty humor is included in what follows (yes, at the permission and hilarious request of my wife)]
Over the past few days, Natalie has checked off almost all the remaining boxes to leave the hospital and head to rehab: she’s been able to pee on the bedside potty, she got all the staples removed from her head, she’s had all but one IV removed, surgery drains removed, wounds redressed, infections fought off, etc. However, there was one last remaining box that was beginning to get more serious by the day: that pesky little bodily function of eliminating all the hospital food she’s been eating (especially pudding). Well, Natalie and her sister decided that yesterday was, with no exceptions, going to be her day to check off that box too. After taking many minutes and suffering the pain to get to the actual bathroom with the help from therapists and her sister, Natalie sat in the seated position, with every medication possible to aid in the process for, wait for it… 2.5 hours! And then she checked that box off, too, because when Natalie makes up her mind, she will leave no box unchecked. Afterward, she decided that for good measure, she’d accept some assistance to the shower chair and her sister helped her take a full shower too.
Now to today, Friday, August 9th. Today is Day #12 in Saint Alphonsus Regional Trauma Center, which is hard to wrap my mind around. Sometimes I feel like time is standing still and we’re just in a holding pattern. Other times, it feels like we’re at warp speed, we blink, and the sun is going back down. Every day has come with challenges and victories, and today’s big news is this: Natalie is busting out! Technically, she won’t be doing any busting out, as she still has 15+ broken bones, but she is being transferred at 2pm via medical transport to Saint Alphonsus Regional Rehabilitation Hospital! She will arrive and get settled into her room before they begin helping her get acquainted with the new schedule and routine. She will have many of the same things she has here: nursing care, pain management, downtime to rest, etc. However, she’ll also have the opportunity to do what she does best: jump into 3 hours per day of physical and occupational therapy (she only gets 1 hour per day here in the hospital). If you’re following along, it seems like the betting line is that with 3x the time, Natalie is probably about to blow our minds with what is possible for someone with one good arm.
The last update for the day is just a little change in our plans. Natalie will have surgery on her left knee next Wednesday, August 14th. She will be checked out of the rehab for surgery to repair her very torn-up knee, kept for a few hours for observation, and then checked back into the rehab. This will give Natalie the peace of mind to know that, when she’s ready to come home, it will be with all the surgeries behind her (hopefully) and give her the ability to head back focused on resting, rehab, PT, and gaining her strength back. We do not know the exact timeline and are still bound by some travel restrictions because of things like her still healing damaged left lung, along with pain management issues, but we are beginning to see a dim horizon line of returning home for in-home care in the weeks ahead.
Today, we want to thank Erika, Melissa, Sam, and Jimmy for coming to town to sit with Natalie, love our children well, and inject hope, joy, and fun into our lives at this time. Natalie comes alive when she sees her friends and it is doing nothing but aiding her healing process. The rest of this thank you post will belong exclusively to Natalie’s oldest sister, Kate. Last night, a guest commented that “many people in this world have nobody that would run full speed toward trouble like so many have done for Natalie,” the comment continued in an emotional turn, “Very few people on earth have a single friend or a sibling as dedicated and selfless as Kate.” This is not only true on the hospital front but behind the scenes as well with our children (even finding time to get Shepherd a haircut!). Thank you, Kate, our boys absolutely adore you and miss you already, your presence with your sister, advocating for her and demanding great care, Natalie’s “days of beauty,” decorating her room, having sleepless nights, being her biggest cheerleader, never allowing anyone to feel sorry for her, and your relentless and absolute willingness to give of yourself for the sake of your sister is not only admirable but it is a glimpse into the very best of the human spirit. Natalie commented earlier in this post about seeing and accepting the cost for lots of things in life: Kate counted the cost and paid a heavy toll (remember, she was also one of the first people on the scene of Natalie’s accident). If you were to ask Natalie, she would credit a great deal of where she is today to you, Kate, so we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
The next update will be from the Rehab Hospital and we are looking forward to the consistency in rotating nurses, meeting new people, sharing stories and life with others, and watching Natalie continue to gain strength and pursuing her goals. Until then, blessings.
Chapter 3 - The Rehab Hospital
UPDATE: August 10th @ 11:55pm (Andy)
“God, I can’t really change what happened, so just help me somehow use this experience and story to restore hope to people who have lost hope or remind people that they were made with a purpose and maybe they’ve lost that too.”
Tonight, as we sat together in the new rehab facility (Room #1925 of the Saint Adolphus Regional Rehabilitation Hospital, to be exact), we began to reflect on the past couple of weeks and both sensed the tone and direction of this update would be a little less factual updates on her progress and more from our hearts. We prayed together, and Natalie prayed the words quoted above. I could not think of a better, more concise way of saying where our hearts are at: we sense God is doing something awesome, and we don’t want to miss it. Natalie, especially, wants this freak accident to count for something beautiful beyond her own recovery – she wants others to know that there is a deep, abiding hope “even for ladies who get smashed by trees in the forest,” as she laughed.
I was sitting with a great friend of mine recently and mentioning how Natalie and I have always felt like our faith in Jesus is a quiet but consistent confidence to be fully ourselves and share God’s love by just being who we were created to be. He commented that his experience with us here in Boise led him to realize that when you walk in the halls of an ICU, you can just sense that some rooms are overflowing with despair while others, despite some of the most gruesome injuries and circumstances, are full of hope; our room has been a hope-filled room. We want you to know that we believe with all of our hearts that our hope is not our own; it is not a hope that Natalie will be “better than she ever was” – we want that to be true, but it may not be. Our hope is not that “everything happens for a reason” because we may never know a reason. And our hope is not that we’ll somehow get some cosmic reward for being positive throughout this journey (trust me, we haven’t always been positive). Our hope is that God will work all things together for the good of those who love Him, and Natalie is choosing to love God through immense pain and suffering by remaining grateful every day, pursuing relationships with everyone who walks in her room, using humor to lighten the mood, by allowing people to use their gifts to care for her, and by laying in her bed for 20+ hours a day, praying, thinking, and pursuing what is good. She told me this evening that she’d been doing a lot of praying. I asked her what she’d been praying for exactly, and she said, “that God would remove lukewarmness out of my life.” I think that’s a prayer many of us praying people should probably start joining her in!
The outpouring of prayers, letters, gifts, and comments has revealed many poignant things to me in the last 13 days as Natalie’s husband. First, Natalie is beloved by such a wildly diverse and eclectic group of people, a truly unique reality in our world. This is because, as so many have written, Natalie is one of the least judgmental people I have ever met. She receives people and listens to people. One person I spoke to in the last few days who knows Natalie extremely well pointed out that she had never once heard Natalie speak poorly about anyone else. This is true in my marriage with Natalie, who insists (sometimes very annoyingly) on assuming the best in people. Natalie is quiet, prefers to be behind the scenes, and is often reserved, but all those who have spent an hour with her alone know she’s given them her full, undivided attention.
Second, even as her husband, I am blown away by the quiet impact her life has made on so many people who have come out of the woodwork and shared stories of Natalie being a listener who not only heard people share brokenness and pain but followed up, kept up, and showed up for people in simple and often completely below-the-radar kinds of ways. One person shared with me early in this journey that when she met Natalie, nobody knew it, but she had zero self-confidence or self-worth, felt useless, and thought that her life was wasting away. As she began to work out in Natalie’s classes at Trim Fitness Studio, Natalie became her teacher, her friend, her confidant, and her mentor. She wanted me to tell Natalie she felt like she got her confidence back because of Natalie.
With all of these things in mind, is it any wonder that our boys absolutely adore their mom? It has been a very difficult pill to swallow watching them process and mourn their mom’s accident. Even seeing her smiling and awake is difficult because in the mind of a 5.5-year-old and a 2-year-old, Natalie is not just their mom; she’s their bike-riding buddy, the stroller pusher on long walks through our neighborhood, their lego-building partner, silly dance partner, meal maker, cozy cuddler, book reader, and so much more. I have been bringing the boys to visit their mom every day, and the awkwardness continues to fade each day. Today, Colton very proudly helped “mama,” as he calls her, get a new slip-resistant sock on, and Shepherd let Mom tickle his back while he just stared at her. They also had some time to just watch TV and play in her new wheelchair, which is their favorite addition in the rehab (pictures below). We just want to thank you for praying for our boys, asking about them, sending them little gifts, and being there for them. We have decided that Colton is just our 5-year-old little boy and are resisting (even correcting others) calling him “our hero” or any derivation of the term. He has seen and heard a great deal, and we are giving him permission (and some professional help) just to be himself. Shepherd is our joy, and he carries it with him all day, every day, but when bedtime rolls around, he wants his mommy “to sing the last song.” They miss her, but our hope is they’ll read these updates one day when this story will make sense in its full context and they’ll smile as they realize their mama was the biggest badass laying in a bed in the State of Idaho on this August night.
Tonight, we want to thank the Reeves Family, who many of the readers from our church, Bridge Community Church in Orange, will know. Sam and Jimmy, along with their 3 young children, jumped on a plane from Orange County just to come to be with us. They had no idea at the time that Natalie would be moving to rehab during their visit, and they actually arrived amidst chaos and disruption forcing us to run new errands and get acquainted with a new staff and facility. To pack three small children up just to come to be with us should tell you all you need to know about them: they run toward the people they love in times of need, and we are grateful we’re on their list of people they love. These past few days have been an absolute gift to our boys, who have finally had kids to play with, to dress up and pretend to be ninjas with, to dig in the dirt with, to eat pizza and leave piles of crust on the table with, to hide & seek with, and to have an epic sleepover with. Their presence and strength couldn’t have come at a better time, and their friendship means the world to us! As always, thank you for reading. We will post some updates soon about Natalie’s grueling new OT and PT regimen and especially how her upcoming surgery goes, but until then, we wish you blessings. Hold on tight to those you love!
UPDATE: August 12th @ 9:45am (Andy)
It’s bright and early here in the Rehab Hospital, and the place is already buzzing with life and energy. There is something very encouraging and fun about the team meetings the Occupational and Physical Therapists have in the mornings – it is the passion of people who absolutely love their jobs. In their minds, Natalie poses a lot of interesting and cool obstacles, and their expertise and creativity are on full display. Think for a moment: how do you create a plan to help a woman who has a strong right leg and arm, great motivation, willingness to push herself, and uncanny mental toughness but also a left side-body with 15+ broken bones, a torn-up knee, no weight-bearing capabilities, and high pain levels? That is the puzzle they are solving, and it is amazing to get to sit and watch them work with her! Here’s a little look at the front of the “Function Junction,” the gym Natalie will be spending 3 hours of every weekday until she is given medical clearance to travel home.
As of now, Natalie is slowly gaining confidence in transferring from the bed to the bathroom and wheelchair, has been able to shower with the help of her occupational therapist, has been getting acquainted with the onsite gym, and has taken full advantage of snack pack pudding being on the menu. I left her room to run a couple of errands on Saturday, and when I returned, Natalie was in the shower, her leg wrapped and elevated, sitting in a big cushy shower chair, just having a full-blown conversation with her new favorite Occupational Therapist. They were talking like old friends and, in true Natalie fashion, had completely skipped all the small talk and talked about the joys and challenges of being a mom.
Natalie was also curious about the possibility of some newfound mobility and an “older population” in the wing near her if they might have a bingo night. They don’t, but she made sure the nurse knew that if they changed course and offered a bingo night, she should be put in a wheelchair and brought to the game ASAP. As always, Natalie is keeping the mood light and upbeat in her room. One of the things she says that cracks everyone up is when I leave her, I give her a kiss, help her get as comfortable as possible, and make sure her phone is plugged in and her nurse remote is handy. I then tell her when I expect to be back and she pretends to think through her day, pressing her finger to her head and lips in faux-thought, then she says something to the effect of, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be free and around when you get back!” Her humor through all of this is a major breath of fresh air, especially for new, first-time visitors who aren’t 100% sure how to approach what has happened to her.
For the rest of this post, I want to share some stories from the past 2 weeks as we turn our attention to the beginning of the 3rd week since the accident. You may have heard the phrase “it takes a village,” and so often we use that phrase to talk about raising children, but it is equally true in a hospital, and man, am I grateful for the village that has surrounded my wife! As you can imagine, in 2 weeks, we’ve seen countless nurses, techs, doctors, PAs, OTs, PTs, Respiratory Therapists, case managers, insurance liaisons, chaplains, wound care specialists, and so on. Throughout this journey, there have been people who have shined and, as Natalie’s husband, put me (and other family members) totally at ease in the care and attention she is receiving. I’ll have to change names, but those who have been with Natalie will know immediately who I am talking about.
John, a very young, recent-grad nurse, who, on Natalie’s last night before being transferred to the rehab hospital clearly felt like he would miss her (but probably not our wild children who pushed every button in the room) asked her if the chaplain had come by to see her. She remarked that he hadn’t, and so John asked, “Would it be ok if I read a Scripture to you then?” He shared Proverbs 3:5-6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight!” The verse impacted Natalie and struck a deep chord with one of Natalie’s friends, who was visiting.
Jane, a charge nurse in her early 60s came to me late one night when Natalie was first moved out of the ICU. She told me, “I saw Natalie’s story on the news, and I cried and cried. I have a daughter her age and grandchildren the age of your children. If you need anything at all, I want you to just come to me. If I’m not around, ask for me.” She was true to her word and often came to check in on Natalie and say hello, even when she wasn’t working on Natalie’s floor. Jane followed our updates and often gaveme a high fives in the hallway as she passed, reminding me that she too was “all-in” and “rooting for Natalie quietly behind the scenes.”
Cindy, a newlywed night-nurse, took a special liking to Natalie. Once, during a particularly bad stretch of pain, Natalie apologized “for complaining” but explained some of her injuries and said, “I’m just in so much pain.” Cindy laughed and told her, “of all the people on this floor, you complain the least but probably have the most to complain about!” She also cracked us up when we asked if there was a demographic of people who complained the most; she answered with no hesitation: “It’s always the young men in their 20s who keep crashing their ‘awesome new motorcycle!’” What really makes me emotional is this particular nurse’s gentleness and understanding in treating Natalie with dignity and honor in lots of things that can bring embarrassment and shame to someone immobile laying in a hospital bed. I will never forget her strong but soft tone of voice, reassuring Natalie, explaining what would happen, and treating her in the softest, most gentle way when she needed that most. We were blessed to have her for many nights, and everyone who stayed the night during her shifts noticed her attention to detail and care for Natalie.
Kevin, a surgeon who will be responsible for rebuilding Natalie’s knee, came into her room after a long day of surgeries and on a day filled with lots of anxiety and stress for us. We had been praying and seeking God’s wisdom for what to do when he arrived. His kindness and generosity with his time were an absolute breath of fresh air in a world where many doctors and surgeons give you 2 minutes of their time and leave. Kevin listened and looked at my wife in a way that put us at ease, explaining every detail, clearly caring for her desire for future activity. 45 minutes later he wrapped up our time together. He was exactly what we needed on that day and for this Wednesday, when Natalie will be entrusted to him to rebuild her knee!
Beth, Natalie’s new occupational therapist, arrived on her first full day and was her first therapy appointment. The transition to the Rehab Hospital was difficult, it came with new people, new routines, new personalities, not to mention a physical transport that was very uncomfortable and painful for Natalie. Beth arrived for the first appointment and immediately connected with Natalie. (Side note: many of you may not know, but Natalie is actually a licensed occupational therapist herself and only in the past few years took on fitness as her job). The two of them bonded immediately and became fast friends. We took it as a wink and a nod from God, that even in the middle of hard, uncomfortable, and unsure situations, He is looking out for us.
I wanted to share these stories to tell you all something we’re learning: so often, we go looking for God and want to feel settled and at ease, but sometimes, we’re so focused on “something spiritual” that we actually miss one of the greatest gifts God hands us daily: the people who love us and care about us and the people we get to love and care for. In many ways, Natalie has no choice but to let people care for her, sometimes in some uncomfortable and intimate ways. However, as all of this unfolds, we have found the gifts of God in people who care, and without allowing them to care, we rob them of their ability to do what God created them to do! We often do this because we “don’t want to inconvenience anyone” or we are just self-sufficient people. We are learning to say yes to offers for help we truly need and have been so grateful for the people that God has gifted us along the way. So much of Natalie’s journey is a story of physical pain and grit, but so much of her recovery is a story of being surrounded by wonderful people who love her, keeping her hope and motivation going. Thanks to all those named and unnamed, we appreciate you more than any words can ever describe.
UPDATE: August 14th @ 5:10pm (Andy)
Today was a day we had been anticipating, dreading, praying for, and nervous about for 10+ days – Natalie’s knee surgery day. And, like the spectrum of emotions we have faced leading up to this day, today has been a microcosm of it all. But, first, a little clarifying backstory may give context to the high stress around this left knee of hers.
When Natalie’s injury first occurred, there was a lot of chaos. To everyone’s credit, they worked their way through Natalie’s injuries, ruling out head, neck, and spinal damage, and despite all the blood, broken bones, swelling, and pain, they correctly diagnosed a collapsed lung filling with blood and a severed popliteal artery in her left leg as her most pressing concerns. In fact, the severed artery is the reason we’re in Boise and nowhere else: it was the place where an emergency surgery could be done to save her leg. Many have asked and “read between the lines,” but after they stabilized Natalie and were confident that she would live, they moved quickly on the leg. On my drive to Boise from Sun Valley, basically chasing her as she flew ahead, I received a phone call from a surgeon letting me know that they did not need consent, but he wanted to tell me what was about to happen: they would perform a surgery to re-establish blood flow, removing veins from her right leg, using them to build a new artery, then installing it into the broken chunk of artery in her left leg. However, he said, it had been nearly 8 hours without sufficient blood flow and there were very real risks: there was a very real “worst case scenario” that Natalie would emerge from her first surgery with a leg amputated at the knee. If you’ve been following along, you know that was not to be the case, and God had put her in great hands to have a successful surgery!
Fast forward to today. Today’s surgery would have already been a very major surgery without the added variables of her surgically repaired popliteal artery. We learned her LCL and MCL had completely pulled off of her femur, her PCL had been split in half, as had her ACL, not to mention her perineal nerve had been compressed, causing nerve issues all down her leg. Added to the very delicate artery surgery she had on July 29th, this surgery posed some serious risks, but we prayed, did our due diligence, and trusted that we had been led to the right man for the job. Because of her previous surgery, he would have to operate without a tourniquet to stem blood loss, posing issues we were warned about: lots of blood loss, which would lead to blood transfusions, and a bit of a visually obstructed surgery site that would require a lengthy surgery. We were told 6+ hours were to be expected.
In the midst of this lengthy process, something else had miraculously happened. Nearly two weeks ago, we began reaching out to Natalie’s closest friends: those we deemed would benefit her healing in their own ways. We began inviting people to Boise, and flights were booked and sent to me to keep track of. This was before knowing Natalie’s surgery would be today. As it turns out, two of Natalie’s great friends overlapped yesterday, today, and tomorrow, and those two happen to be a physician’s assistant and a nurse practitioner! To put that in perspective if you’re not aware, they would be, aside from the doctors, the most qualified and competent medical professionals at the Rehab Hospital Natalie is in. Their expertise and ability to bring relief to Natalie from a place of knowledge and experience has been nothing short of another wink and a nod from God, knowing exactly what would happen, when it would happen, and who the perfect people were to be by Natalie’s side.
So, our good friend Kelly spent the night with Natalie, prepping her for surgery this morning with a 5am wakeup call and a sponge bath with special pre-surgical soap. They went via medical transport (ambulance) at 6am to check Natalie into surgery. Then we waited….
In the meantime, I threw myself headfirst into playing with my boys. I’ve now done this enough to know it’s the only thing that can distract me from what is going on, and the anxiety of waiting is to play. We went into the street to ride bikes and scooters and began to laugh and enjoy ourselves. Some older ladies approached us, pushing the strollers of their granddaughters. We said hello, and, in true Idaho fashion, they stopped to chat. I was not overly in the mood, but I have been taking a page out of my wife’s book and praying to be more gracious and kind even when I don’t feel like it. Long story short, they were college friends and one of the women had flown to visit the other, who was responsible for childcare for her grandchildren for the morning. They met “almost exactly 50 years ago today” at an obscure, tiny little Christian University in Southern California, they said. Smiling, I asked them which one, and they replied, “Point Loma Nazarene University.” I audibly laughed and couldn’t get out “That’s where I went to college too!” fast enough. We chatted for a while, and one of the women shared that she had just retired on April 1st as a nurse, and I shared a bit about Natalie’s story and especially what today held in store for her. They couldn’t believe “how small the world is” and promised to pray for Natalie. I tucked this little 15-minute interaction into my back pocket as another wink and a nod that God is in our midst and is working in every situation.
Roughly 4 hours later, as I picked up another friend at the airport (Sammy the NP), still anticipating 2+ hours before I would hear an update, my phone rang on the car phone. My heart dropped, and I immediately said, “This is either very good or bad news.” It was the former – all great news. For the severity of the injury, everything went smoothly and without a hitch: “I believe that Natalie will not need any more major knee surgeries on this knee,” the surgeon said at one point in our conversation. There was some serious reconstruction and repair, but he was confident that with proper Physical Therapy (which we know is Natalie’s bread & butter), she would regain most, if not all of her previous range of motion and would begin rebuilding muscle and stability in a few months time. He finished telling us about the surgery, and I was full of endorphins and excitement to get off the phone and share the great news with loved ones. But then, he paused and said, “Andy, I don’t know if you and your family are religious or not, but I feel like as I operated on your wife, God wanted me to tell you something: ‘God really really loves Natalie and relief is coming for you guys.’” I didn’t know what to say (I probably sounded like an idiot), but I thanked him, choked up and in disbelief. God shows up in the most unexpected places. I’m not sure what else to say except maybe that sometimes God even shows up in phone calls with hyper-genius surgeons who put tendons, ligaments, and bones back together for a living.
I wrote at the beginning of this post that our day has been a microcosm of the previous 10 days and that is true. We have experienced God’s grace and whimsy today; we have had many of our fears relieved and been encouraged that we’ve jumped another hurdle in Natalie’s recovery. However, as I write this, I do so with a heavy heart. Natalie was delivered back to her Rehab Hospital Bed in absolutely tormenting pain. It makes my skin crawl to even write the reality: panicked eyes, chattering teeth, moaning, crying, and writhing. It is in these moments that the truth is very complex and hard to write about. I want you all to know how tremendously strong and resilient my wife is (she is). I want you to celebrate with us when she pushes herself to the max in Physical Therapy and says some of the most quotable, inspirational stuff I’ve ever heard (she does). But the truth is complex. Natalie still has 15+ broken bones, still has moments where her pain blows past “manageable,” where I stand, holding her hand totally helpless, standing on a line between crying and begging them to do something and they can’t: she’s had too much pain medication, any more and she risks issues with her heart rate and breathing. And so, I’m writing right smack in the middle of knowing God orchestrated ladies to walk down the street and encourage our family today, that by coincidence (or not), two of our most qualified medical professional friends just happened to be here at this time when we needed them most, that the surgeon brought good news from Natalie’s surgery and also good news for our souls, but also knowing that sometimes we are powerless to the things life throws at us. We grasp in the air for respite and relief, and it doesn’t come, but I know inside of Natalie that her hope is in Jesus, who bore all pain, and, in her current state, He knows her pain intimately. I trust that He has her in the palm of His hand and that more victories are on the horizon, but sometimes, it's very hard to wait.
Thank you for reading – see you next time.
UPDATE: August 16th @ 10:45pm (Andy)
“I want my healing, grief, and pain to be linear from really bad to ‘all better now,’ but that’s just not how this is going to work.” – Natalie
Today marks a week since Natalie was transferred to the Rehabilitation Hospital and offers a great time stamp to reflect on the joys and pains and the wrestle to continue to look for light shining in dark places. If the past 7-days needed to be summarized, I would describe them like this: the week was one of getting glimpses of hope and a very bright future ahead, but also the whiplash of reality that the hope and future I imagine will not be as immediate and forthcoming as I want it to be. I will remember this week as “the endurance week,” and most of the enduring has been through a pain I can’t comprehend and hope never to have to. I already laid out Natalie’s Wednesday knee surgery in the previous post. However, the bottom line is that, after all the tormenting pain Natalie has endured (which she was not remotely close to being done experiencing), she was then subjected to an extremely invasive knee surgery without a nerve block, which they couldn’t perform because she has nerve damage. It was done without a tourniquet (because of a previous surgery), which resulted in a more tedious and time-consuming procedure (not to mention bloodier). The procedure was necessary because her tissues were still healthy and strong, and it was a success, but it was a success that came at a cost that few have counted. And, despite the challenges, Natalie has decided she will “stick to the program,” starting back at square one, but doing it with the same quiet confidence and pride: getting into a wheelchair again, allowing her knee to be bent by the physical therapist one degree at a time, and pushing on toward her goal of running and playing with our boys again.
Despite all of this, Natalie has led this week by example. She knows that while the amount of people who can relate to her pain and injuries is few and far between, she does not stand alone. And, while pain can do unbelievable things to the human brain, so can recognizing that there are still things to be grateful for in the midst of all of it. This week, a new glimpse of joy came from a new nurse; we will call her Joan. Joan met Natalie briefly as she was covering for another nurse who had to come in late in the morning after Natalie’s surgery. She was “just filling in for a little bit” but would “be our nurse for an hour or so.” That one hour was, with no exaggeration, the single best hour of nursing Natalie had experienced in the rehab so far. In her moment of great need, Joan came and saw her as a human in pain, needing compassion, empathy, and a gentle, but experienced touch. As I watched this interaction and the sweetness extended to my wife in this short period of time, I did what I’ve been learning to do for almost three weeks now: I marched my tired butt to the nurses’ desk, asked what the policy was on switching nursing assignments, let everyone know my wife was in tremendous pain and needed a personality she could connect with and, from this point forward, we would be requesting Joan to be Natalie’s nurse. And, just like that, Joan has become our friend and will be Natalie’s nurse whenever she is working a shift!
One other thought I had and wanted to write down as a “pastoral note” before I forget. I have noticed that, despite the greatest pain, as her interactions with nurses and staff end before they leave the room, Natalie often takes as deep of a breath as she is capable of right now, bites down hard on her bottom lip, and then, with a level and even voice, says, “Thank you for caring for me.” I had this image of her on my mind late one night when I was driving back to stay the night beside her in the recliner chair, and was marveling at how she could keep such class and kindness through all of this, and then this verse from Romans came to my mind:
“…but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Romans 5:3-5).
So here is the final commentary on pain and suffering that I am witnessing in real time. When someone “suffers well” and refuses to give in to self-loathing, complaining, and darkness, it shapes something deeply in them. According to Paul, the author of the Book of Romans, it produces endurance, character, and renewed and strengthened hope. I am realizing that the woman I married nearly nine years ago is not the same woman I am sleeping in the recliner beside now. This new Natalie has experienced great trauma, heartache, pain, and broken dreams. But there are also clearly things growing up inside of her that I believe will make her more and more into the empathetic, quiet-strengthed, bold, understanding, and powerful woman she was created to be. I am so lucky to be part of this and be shaped in a small way beside her, and if I “married out of my league” nine years ago, I think the woman being shaped now qualifies as being “out of my galaxy” now.
The last part of this update is another reality that is beginning to sink in us as we emerge from (hopefully) “the last surgery.” I think this picture I snapped of Shepherd this afternoon on an outing sums up my thoughts…
I thought this picture communicated what I feel: a mountain of “to-do’s” that look scary, as most of them require treading down paths and navigating things I have zero experience in. However, there is trust required to reach out and continue to put one foot in front of the other, even when it feels monstrous and insurmountable.
There has been this lingering temptation to sigh relief and pretend that all of this is almost done. However, in many ways, our journey is just beginning. Natalie has made great progress and we’re blown away by it. She could easily be dead, she could definitely have come out of her first surgery with an amputated leg, she could, without a doubt, been told by now that her nerve damage is so severe her leg and foot will never work again, but none of that has happened: she’s fought and trusted and prayed, alongside of thousands of others praying with us and for us, and come out the other side with great possible outcomes in the months to come, but...
We will be discharged from the rehab hospital sometime at the end of August or the beginning of September and, when we are, face a new set of challenges that we are navigating already in preparation for when that time comes. For examples:
- We are working with a company for a stair lift so when Natalie gets home, she can actually “be home” to the best of her ability. The bedrooms in our home are upstairs, and we all agree it would be a cruel situation to work for a month to get home only to be stranded downstairs in a hospital bed.
- We realize the medical journey will require that we continue to research and vet out care providers with specialties in Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Orthopedics, Vascular Surgery, Neuro Surgery, Sports Medicine, and so on.
- Natalie will have post-surgical precautions that will make our bed unusable for her. We have decided to get an adjustable bed base so she can sit up properly and be able to cuddle her boys and read them books as soon as possible.
- Homes are not designed with people like post-tree Natalie, which means even getting to the bathroom with a nearly completely rebuilt left leg will be impossible. We are figuring out bedside commodes, bedside rails, wheelchairs, ramps, transportation issues, snack pack pudding access, and much more.
All these things are needs that we have been so grateful to those who have already helped us begin navigating. They will require a completely new way of thinking about our lives, but they will also provide the setting for the next chapter. My heart is that the next chapter is like the first few in these ways: that the obstacles and challenges we face will be met head-on by our family and friends with laser-like focus on helping Natalie. My prayer is that it will also create the backdrop for Natalie to reach her goals, grow in every type of strength, and be the light that she is to all who interact with her. My dream is a hard one to write because I know that it is not guaranteed, but it is this: that she will not only walk but run beside Shepherd as he scooters full-speed toward a parked cars again. That she would laugh as she rock climbs with Colton again. That she would scare the daylights out of me as she skateboards down the street away from our house again. And that she would walk down the stairs with the unmistakable bounce of a former athlete as I tell her she is beautiful, but we are very late again.
FIGHT ON!
UPDATE: August 18th @ 11:20pm (Andy)
Tomorrow marks three weeks since Natalie’s accident occurred and, as she likes to remind everyone with a snarky question and a little laugh: “What are the chances someone is just standing in the woods and a tree snaps right on top of them?!” The answer, according to google, is that the odds are very very low indeed, especially if you’re not intentionally cutting one down! We’ve noticed something else that indicates just how strange and freakish her accident was: medical providers will enter her room (remember these are trauma surgeons and ICU nurses who are used to extreme and gnarly injuries), and after reading her chart for the first time are obviously perplexed and think they’ve misunderstood when, with a raised eyebrow and a crinkled forehead they ask, “so, tell me what happened exactly? Your chart says you were just hit by a falling tree?” Yes, a falling tree, one that broke 2 feet off the ground and hit Natalie from behind, from her left shoulder straight down her entire left side, wiping out a shoulder, 9 ribs, 3 vertebrae, a sacrum, a hip, and mangling her knee. Multiple people have remarked that just 3-4 inches to the right and her entire head, neck, and spine would have taken the brunt of it, and I think we all know where that story would have ended, but it didn’t… what are the chances?
We’ve told this story enough times out loud now that it no longer carries any pain or sorrow, it just is. So, just a simple hike through the woods in Idaho turned our lives upside down, sent Natalie on a plane to Boise to save her life, uprooted our family, changed the trajectory of where we thought life was heading, and… here we are. But something else is happening. At our church, our pastor has said on multiple occasions that when things are going very well, God seems to whisper, but when life is at its worst, many people experience the loud, obvious call of God. We believed that to all be true, but not until Monday, July 29th, 2024 at around 11:40am did we know beyond any doubt that this is true. If you’re not someone who pursues God, thinks much about God, or is indifferent to spiritual things, this may be a strange thing to say, so I want to be as clear as possible as to what we mean when we say that God is speaking loudly to us: as isolated incidents, most of these things seem like coincidences or random connections until you add them up and realize, you can only believe in “another coincidence” so many times in a row before you may want to question if something else is going on.
So, what are the chances that the accident occurred on one of the only trails we ever hike in Idaho (and we hike almost every day here) that has: 1) A mountain rescue unit on the mountain and 2) is so close to “town” that it still has cell phone reception? What are the chances that, after hiking with Colton on her back for a solid mile, Natalie decided to put him down in the exact spot where the tree hit her? (In fact, many don’t know, but he was so close to her when it happened that Colton was actually hit by the branches of the tree, leaving some cuts and bruises on his face, chest, and shoulder. He was even checked for a concussion by paramedics prior to Natalie getting down the mountain). What are the chances that we let Colton watch The Lion King for the first time on our drive to Idaho and, when asked how he knew how to yell for help to save his mom, he remarked, “I learned it from Simba doing it in the Lion King?” What are the chances that the first 911 call (which I have) and the first report on the scene both claim obvious head and neck damage only to find out there was none at all? What are the chances that a well-known vascular surgeon who resides in the State of Washington happened to be in Boise and performed Natalie’s artery surgery and likely saved her left leg from an amputation? What are the chances that less than 3 months prior to this accident, we learned from our church that our insurance would be changing providers and, to quote our insurance rep when I called him a few days after the accident, our family was “switched to one of the single best possible plans for this scenario?” What are the chances that after the worst week of our lives, Colton, Shepherd, and I checked into a rental house in Boise where the contractor and owner asked us if we go to church, if we pray, and if he could connect us to a local church to help? What are the chances that, in our driveway in Boise, Idaho, I would run into two women in their late 60s who had met exactly 50 years ago at Point Loma Nazarene University – my alma mater in Southern California? What are the chances that, having scheduled friends to visit weeks in advance, the two days surrounding Natalie’s gruesome knee surgery (which hadn’t been scheduled when people committed to come) done without a nerve block or a tourniquet, our two great friends with medical expertise just happened to be with her? What are the chances the surgeon who successfully put her knee back together asked me on the phone if I was a religious person because he felt like he was supposed to tell me that “God really loves Natalie” and “relief was on its way?” I could keep going, but you get the point… for us, these things are not up to chance, they are connected on purpose and with a purpose. We are choosing to thank God for making beautiful things out of brokenness.
And so this is where we find ourselves: with plenty to complain and groan about, but we’re choosing not to because for us, it is clear that God has us in the palm of His hand, that Natalie is alive, not because of chance, but because it was not her time to go, and that this story is long from over. We are not interested in cramming our faith in your face or convincing you to believe what we believe, but we are interested in being truly ourselves and giving you updates from our hearts: it’s not just something we believe; it’s who we are, and it genuinely works – our faith has carried us this far, more united as a couple and more hopeful than we have ever been in almost 9 years of marriage. We know with certainty it will continue to carry us in the coming weeks, months, and years and that our children are watching us, so we choose to stand firm, to stand united, to find things to be grateful for even on the hardest days, and to thank God for the air in our lungs and the opportunities to love and be loved.
Colton's pre-school teacher, the famous "Miss Laura," popped in to say hello and bring Natalie an unexpected burst of joy.
Now, here's the promised medical update: we’re in a strange holding pattern as Natalie is admitted to the Rehab Hospital, gaining her strength each day, getting her three hours of PT and OT each day, and, of course, eating more of the pudding. We have a tentative discharge date for August 27th, the same day Natalie will have her first major follow-up appointment with her knee surgeon. We are praying not just for that knee but for another injury that hasn’t made its way onto these updates in a while: her collapsed left lung. While the lung has healed up nicely, Natalie needs it to be clearly strong enough to fly at altitude without risking another collapse, otherwise, upon discharge, her only way home would be to drive. We’ve been told to consult a map, as most of the “fast ways home” (less than 16 hours of driving) require driving through areas like the eastern edge of Nevada that has areas where we’d be 4+ hours from the nearest hospital if something went wrong (“not advisable,” according to one doctor). Our prayer is that Natalie will be cleared to fly, reducing what will likely be a very painful and trying journey from 16+ hours to 3.
Many have asked about how here injuries are healing and especially about her pain level from her knee surgery. While her pain is still high and can fluctuate, it is back to manageable, and she is able to rest comfortably most of the time. Her left shoulder is still bringing her a great deal of pain, and despite her shoulder blade being in multiple pieces, it will heal completely on its own. She has roughly 6-8 more weeks before being reevaluated and possibly being given the green light to start PT on her shoulder and bear weight once again. Natalie’s 9 broken ribs still give her issues, especially when she sneezes or coughs, but she continues to hold a pillow tight to her belly and trudge through that pain. Nobody who has spent any time with Natalie can remember her ever complaining or even mentioning pain in her back, despite her 3 broken vertebrae and broken sacrum, but those injuries are slowly healing without intervention. All indications are that her hip surgery is healing extremely well, and her new, very large scar looks like a perfect shape to convince kids at the pool that she was bitten by a large shark… I’ll update when she tries out this story on the neighborhood kids in the future. Natalie’s new artery continues to operate as it was intended, and her lower leg has great blood flow and color; only time will tell how extensive her nerve damage is and what the long-term prognosis will be. Finally, Natalie’s mind was never damaged and is stronger than ever: her persistence and drive are only growing by the day and she is an inspiration to many people in this season of life.
Natalie uses this passive motion machine ~4 hours per day and slowly helps grow her range of motion in her surgically rebuilt knee.
Thank you all for reading, praying, giving, gifting, sending letters, checking in on us, and being our friends. We are so lucky to know some of the best people on the planet and are grateful for each of you.
See you next time.
UPDATE: August 22nd @ 10:55pm
“My only major advice is that you should be prepared; you’ll set off on a sprint and then realize this whole thing is a marathon.”
For the better part of three weeks, I was quite proud of myself: I felt like I was the pace setter on this new marathon of ours and, to be honest, was blowing myself away with how much mental acuity and organizational ability I was able to maintain day in and day out on 3-6 hours of sleep. That was until last Friday morning when I woke up next to Natalie in the vinyl recliner, helped her start her day, said goodbye as she was wheeled off to physical therapy, and got in our car to go meet up with and play with the boys. I finally took a deep breath and realized I was, well… getting sick. And now, for going on a week, with a totally depleted immune system from eating way too many breakfast burritos, getting subpar sleep on floors, flimsy sofas, and vinyl recliners, and going long stretches without exercise (or sunlight for that matter), I’m just finally able to kick a simple cold that both of our small children fought off in barely a day. It turns out that trying to sprint marathons will do that to you and even grown men have to “learn the hard way.”
So, before this gets more “updatey,” I’ll just pause and communicate gratitude that is probably long overdue: Natalie has an awesome mom. “Lallie” is in the background of this entire story in almost every capacity possible. When you read of Natalie and I having late night chats, it’s Lallie at our rental house putting sad, crying boys who miss their mommy to bed, doing baths while singing her silly madeup songs, folding laundry, playing spray bottle water fights with Shepherd, tickling Colton’s back while he watches his shows, and popping in every day to sit with her own baby girl. This week, she jumped up and was added to the ranks who have slept by Natalie’s side, setting alarms for med reminders, being awakened by devastatingly painful cries, massaging out lumps in her back when the sun rises, and she has done it all with a grace and willingness that is commendable. Lallie is Natalie’s great confidant, cheerleader, and companion, and, for the past 4-5 days, has held down the fort in the rehab hospital and been by her side every hour, continuing our insistence that Natalie never go without someone by her side encouraging her and pushing her onward!
Finally, this evening, I felt well enough that we deemed it was time to reunite as a family, and it turned out that Natalie was also feeling up to take advantage of the Rehab Hospital courtyard. We ate dinner together and watched our kids ramp up their energy until Shepherd found some mud and ended up, to the delight of onlookers from inside their rooms, staring out at us, being stripped down to his diaper and hosed off to a squeeling delight of his own. All of it felt, for the first time since July 29th, an awful lot like the real Franks Family having a real outdoor Franks Family Dinner. As we left, Colton said nonchalantly, “dad, that was probably the best time I have ever had with mom.”
The Franks Family pre-mud
The Franks Boys post-mud hose-down
This week has been the “figure out what’s next” week, and while it has been an awful lot of coordinating and planning, it has been another chunk of time where Natalie's unbelievable support system has shined brightly. We’ve taken notes from Natalie’s occupational and physical therapists and started translating them into reality, with Natalie’s sister, Kate, and a handful of awesome neighbors (shoutout to the Carters & the Kerns), our home is shaping up to be a place where Natalie can thrive in the next phase of her recovery. We will have a stairlift and, as awesome as that is for my wife to be able to get up and down the stairs, I cannot ever unsee the chairlift infomercial that was playing circa 1997 on late-night TV when I’d wake up after falling asleep watching X-Files (you’re welcome if you know what I’m talking about). The laundry list is long, but it may give you a sense of what’s next for us: ramps into the house, chairlift, special recliner, and seats, grab bars, adjustable bed base, shower seat, bathroom modifications, and so on. While it is a long list and hard to keep straight, I paused today to take a deep breath and invite God into the beginnings of my feeling overwhelmed and realized what a blessing it is to live in a place where these things not only exist, but experts are willing to help at every turn! Not only that, but Natalie’s sister is a literally trained occupational therapist – God has got us at every turn and we don’t want to forget.
This week was also a week of meetings. First, I met one-on-one with Natalie’s case manager, voicing every concern, question, and confusion we brainstormed together over the past week. Her professionalism and organization were a marvel to see in action, as was her very real and honest ability to say, “I don’t know, but I will find that out for you.” It was a good reminder that sometimes we convince ourselves we need an expert to get us an answer, but in reality, someone who cares and is willing to put in the time is just as capable. This meeting was followed up by an even bigger meeting: all of Natalie’s care was discussed at length on Wednesday morning, and today, at 1pm, I met with her care team to get the download of everything they are thinking and recommending for her care going forward.
On August 9th, I wrote in the update Natalie’s words about how she could possibly push herself so hard in PT & OT. She said, “I just decided that my goal is to be healthy and strong so that I can be the mom and wife I want to be. I want to be present and able to play and run; I want to sit on the floor and wrestle and hold my boys, and I keep all that in mind because I have decided – I know what the cost I’m going to pay. It’s going to be very hard and very painful, and my body is going to tell me to stop a lot, but I already made up my mind that I’m willing to pay it.” Well, here is the news (based on the medical and therapeutic expertise of those who spend multiple hours per day with Natalie): Natalie has blown past any expectations that could have been made for her even a couple of weeks ago. She has pushed herself to the edge, shaken, sweat, fought through pain, done “a few more reps” when therapy was all over, and even navigated a huge knee surgery in the middle of it all, and today, we were told she would be cleared to safely discharge from the rehab hospital and resume care at home next week!
So, that is our plan, just as Natalie set as her goal: to work hard to get home as soon as possible. We will be leaving Boise to remake our new home (in the same house) next Wednesday, August 28th. I was thinking about a little irony that I haven’t shared with Natalie yet: her accident happened on Monday, July 29th. It is incredibly fitting for her to have come this far and been sent home before Boise could claim it held her for even a full month; she beat it by a day! By God’s grace, there are no precautions left on Natalie’s left lung for flying. Through some unbelievable generosity, we will be flying just as a family together with no layovers, no terminals, no lines, and no tight spaces. God has answered this prayer and then some!
There are still a lot of details to figure out in the next week. Still, there is no doubt in our mind that, as we continue to walk out this journey, one step at a time, working hard and pausing to hear God’s voice along the way, we will never worry – this is God’s story being written in Natalie and those near to her. It’s a beautiful story of trusting Him, leaning on the love of family and friends, and overcoming against all odds.
Thanks for reading!
UPDATE: August 24th @ 9:45pm (***Natalie!***)
Hi friends and family, today’s update is coming from yours truly, Natalie! I know you have all grown accustomed to sweet Andy’s updates, but today, I thought it would be fun to switch things up!
First off, I feel like it’s beyond necessary and so important for me to take the time to thank each of you. Thank you for the support that you have so freely offered to me and my family. From donations, to dropping everything and flying to Boise, to lifting our family up in prayer, to maybe not knowing what to do except just follow along on these updates - thank you! You each have played an integral role in the wellbeing of my family and your love and support means more than you will ever know, and it will never be forgotten!
As I lay here in the bed of the rehab hospital on my “rest day,” I’m grateful for quiet moments of stillness to reflect on all that’s happened in this last month. As many of you know, I have absolutely no recollection of my accident, getting hit by the tree, sweet Colton screaming for help, the kind man, and later my sister who laid by my side encouraging me to keep breathing. I have no recollection of the transport down the mountain, the life-saving procedures implemented by St. Luke’s in Hailey, and the airplane flight to Boise. So then, what was the first thing that I actually remember?
The breathing tube.
Fighting, gasping, doing everything in my power to take a breath on my own, yet the breathing tube and ventilator, the very machine that was keeping me alive, had become something I was battling against. To the shock of many doctors, I began pointing at the ventilator tube, indicating I was trying to breathe on my own. After the physical trauma of a collapsed lung, weaning me off the ventilator required careful consideration and precaution. Doctors needed to ensure I was capable of such a task and decided it was time to slowly decrease the support of the ventilator, allowing my body the opportunity to breathe on its own. The doctors were shocked.
I. Was. Breathing!
Jump days forward, with limited memory of anything in those early days due to high pain, numerous surgeries, and pain medication, the next prominent memory that I have was waking up in my hospital room after hip reconstruction surgery, writhing in pain, extending my one working arm to link hands with my oldest brother Christopher. He’d dropped everything to get on a plane to Boise to be by my side. As my parents, older sister, sister-in -law and niece remained in Sun Valley with Colton and Shep, and Andy drove between Sun Valley and Boise, I held my brother’s hand with tears running down my face, craving reassurance that I was not going to die. Days prior, I experienced the power of breath. In this moment, it was the comfort of touch.
As someone who deals with panic attacks and anxiety, being out of control is a recipe for disaster. God knew that, at that moment, I needed someone by my side who could hold me together and my sister knows me inside and out. My next prominent memory was of my dear sister Kate. The same sister who had endured the trauma of seeing me so close to death on that Sun Valley trail was now walking into my room with her head high, shoulders back, and ready to love me in the most tangible way possible. She became my voice when I had no voice, all I could muster in those early days was a hoarse, quiet whisper. From advocating for me when I was in pain, to setting alarms nonstop through the night to make sure I got every dose of medication when it was due, to maintaining some sense of normalcy by ensuring we still would complete my nightly face routine (serums, eye creams, and all!)…I knew I could breathe when I went to sleep with her by my side on that glorified hospital futon bench. I knew that she wouldn’t stop fighting for me when I needed her the most. I am so grateful I got to watch my sister’s God-given gifts come to life and that I got to be the beneficiary of her love.
I have a fleeting memory of Pastor Danny & Jimmy flying to Boise on a moment's notice to pray for me and comfort us in our darkest hour. In the days that followed, I opened my eyes to see my dear friend and former co-worker, Taylor, sitting next to me, our close family friend Jodie and, soon after, my dear friends and bosses from Trim, Melissa and Erika arrived. And it continued. Our dear friends from church, the Reeves, complete with their three youngest children, all my closest friends, and incredible neighbors came in: Elizabeth, Kelly, and Sammy. Our great friends, the Emery's, Colton's amazing preschool teacher, Mrs. Laura, my preschool best friend, Laura. There are still more to come! My dear friend Megan is just landing this evening as I am writing this, and my college bestie Alexa will be on her way soon. I received messages and calls from hundreds and hundreds of people. The encouragement, prayers, and well wishes flooded from my closest bosom-buddies, and also from friendships from years and years ago. As I felt helpless, lying in uncontrollable pain at the trauma hospital and then the rehab hospital, it was as if an army of people rose around me, lifting me up when I physically, mentally, and emotionally could not lift myself.
Memories may become heightened, some may fade, and some may never surface. What is consistent is the seamless thread that God has so delicately woven from the moment that darn tree hit me until now, sitting here still in my rehab bed, now, only “4 more sleeps” (as Colton says) until I get to go home. What I’ve learned as I’ve watched this delicate thread is that while we don't always know why things happen, everything has a purpose, including you and me. Over the past 4 weeks, I’ve seen friends and family members live out of their God-given gifts, talents, and purposes. Friends who are natural caretakers. Friends that are movers and mobilizers. Friends that are listeners. Friends that are gift-givers. Friends that know exactly what to say and when to say it. Just as every event that has been so purposefully orchestrated along this delicate thread, God, too, created us with unique characteristics and qualities, and I’ve had the blessing and opportunity to not only see that in action, but get to benefit from all of you.
My dear friends, as I go to sleep tonight in this rehab hospital, knowing full well that God still has something in store for my life, I pray that you know He’s also got you wrapped in the palm of His hand. He’s created you with a purpose, and He loves you beyond measure.
Thank you for following along on this journey with me. Words can never describe the depth of my gratitude. I hope to find my new rhythms at home and, as I gain comfort and confidence, begin to start seeing you face-to-face again soon!
Love you and, from the bottom of my heart, thank you,
Natalie Franks
Chapter 4 - Home
UPDATE: Saturday, August 31st @ 12:15pm (Andy)
As of Wednesday afternoon (August 28th), we’re home! Everyone knows the famous quotation, “Home is where the heart is,” but we are learning the nuances of exactly what that means. Before we get there, I want to share about our trip, as many have asked about the details and how exactly it came together and end with something (we think is) profound and worth sharing about our personal life.
Roughly 2 weeks ago, I was forwarded an email from a prominent businessman in Orange County. He and his family had heard about and followed Natalie’s story and, from a distance, wanted to offer their help. They knew from our updates and from speaking to people familiar with what was happening that there would come a time when she would be discharged from the Rehabilitation Hospital in Boise and need to be transferred home. Being that driving was almost entirely out of the question for us (pain, length of drive, distance from a hospital in case of emergency, etc.), we had determined we would continue to pray for Natalie’s lung to heal enough to be cleared to fly and that somehow we’d figure out how to make that happen. One person suggested purchasing her a whole row of seats on a commercial flight, which immediately invoked the terrifying thought of a beverage cart smashing into her extended leg, the near impossibility (or maybe it was completely impossible?) of navigating the tiny aisle, or the time needed to go through TSA, sit in an airport, and transport her to and from both airports. At the very least, this plan would subject Natalie to pain and exhaustion like she had not endured since her initial injury.
Obviously, none of those options were “ideal,” but we would have to manage. That was until this particular family offered us a solution: sending their private jet and crew, along with arranging and covering all travel expenses to and from each airport: a driver and SUV for our family and a wheelchair-compatible van for Natalie. Additionally, they arranged for paramedics to be ready on the tarmacs of both Jackson Jet Center in Boise and ACI Jet Center at John Wayne Airport! What began as a pipedream for us ended up with our “perfect scenario” being too short-sighted, and what God provided through this family was greater than anything we could have ever imagined. On top of all of it, Natalie’s favorite person in the rehab, an Occupational Therapist we will call Brianna, agreed to travel with us to help Natalie navigate getting on the plane, getting comfortable, transitioning home, and then helping her learn how to properly use all the new gizmos and gadgets that had been installed in our home! God has been expanding our imagination for how generous others can be, but this whole situation was an incredible mind-bender as we realized how God can answer prayers even beyond what we assume would be “the perfect scenario.”
Natalie, Boise firefighters, and our Occupational Therapist, turned great friend, all scheme to find a way to get Natalie comfortably on the plane.
All comfortably seated on the jet and ready for takeoff back to California!
The last piece of this giant puzzle of getting home was our car in Boise, as we had initially set out on Thursday, July 25th, packed to the gills with every conceivable item for our long outdoor-centric vacation to Sun Valley, Idaho. Bikes, fishing & hiking gear, clothes, BB guns, life jackets, you name it, we had it packed. Unfortunately, no company would agree to ship it back to California for us, as it had a bike rack and bikes, along with the rooftop carrier on it… Enter Dylan Britt. On Thursday, August 22nd, I sent out a handful of text messages to some people who I trust, asking if they could help me spread the word: we were on the lookout for someone willing to help us drive our car home. I sent 5-6 texts, and within 10 minutes, I received a response from Dylan: “What day would you need it driven back?” he wrote, “Depending on the day, I might be able to make it work myself!” Turned out that the day worked just fine, and so Dylan flew to Boise, Ubered to the rental house we had been staying at, grabbed the keys from a hidden spot, jumped in our car, drove it 900 miles through the state of Idaho, into the most desolate stretch of the eastern Nevada desert, back to civilization outside of Las Vegas, onto the 15 freeway, into Southern California, and had it back in our driveway less than 24 hours later!
We’ve now been home for roughly 72 hours, and we have learned a great deal in this short time. Someone commented upon our arrival that it felt like a very clear and clean “chapter break” and while the story was still being written, we were entering a new part of the adventure. That couldn’t be a better description than what we are experiencing. The joys of being together as a family is the wind in our sails, and the company of family and neighbors has brought joy and light to our house that was just impossible in a hospital room. There are also significant challenges, like Natalie no longer being able to push a button 24/7 to have professional medical help come into her fully equipped hospital room, merging childcare and medical care into the same space, juggling medication timers day and night, planning and thinking of transportation days in advance, and unpacking/reorganizing how our life works here. The reality is that we are back in the same house, but this is an entirely different home. Natalie, Colton, Shepherd and I are not the same people who left for vacation on July 25th, we’ve been dramatically changed for the better and worse, and with Natalie being hospitalized for a month, we’re relearning some of how our rhythms, routines, and interactions work (especially difficult is how Shepherd’s “cuddles,” aka “cannonballs” on people in bed are no longer allowed). Simple tasks take much longer, and we are more dependent on others to fill in the gaps in simple things. A general sense of frustration and feeling overwhelmed creeps in multiple times per day. We are learning to operate with a new level of grace, forgive quickly, laugh off the ridiculousness of it all, and move forward, one day at a time.
Our first Franks Family Dinner seated at our dinner table since we left for vacation!
Family Movie Nights will be an almost nightly activity as we rally around mommy and the boys get used to not jumping on or wrestling her.
The last piece of this update is more of a reflection on life and (hopefully) and encouragement to anyone still reading this far. On October 3rd, 2015, Natalie and I said our vows and, as so many people who have been married have laughed and commented alongside us through the years, there is something silly and utterly ridiculous about saying those vows at the time of a wedding ceremony – promising to love one another “for better or worse, for richer or poorer, and in sickness and in health” Those are crazy promises to make to someone who you think you know well on that day, only to find out in the following months that there is a lifetime’s worth of learning to be done. Nonetheless, Natalie and I stood in front of our family and friends and said those words to each other on that day, and we are learning what it means to mean it now, but we’ve come to a much deeper realization which, by God’s grace, has carried us through this season, not only surviving but thriving and unified in a way we have never been before.
I teach a Bible study every Wednesday night at Bridge Community Church. A couple years ago, I had this thought I felt was not my own and I’ve shared it on those Wednesday nights probably two dozen times: the discipline we develop in our lives every day will be what carries us through life. I often say it this way: “If we expect that we will just ‘rise to the occasion’ when difficult things happen, we’re kidding ourselves. God gives us opportunities to live with intentionality and discipline every day, and that is our training to prepare for whatever life throws at us.” So, I was laying on our bed talking to Natalie and we had this discussion: aside from God’s grace, how are we doing this? What she said was so profound that I asked her to write it down so I could quote it here in this update: “I think sometimes we minimize the importance of all the little day-to-day tasks we think are menial. I think our commitment to doing little things well and being intentional were actually the things God was using all along to build the endurance we needed for this.”
So, with all this in mind, here is my encouragement: whether you're married, may want to be in the future, whether you’re single, trying to be a great boss, co-worker, or friend, or want to grow as a person, it’s important to realize that the little ways we love actually matter. For us, that looks like doing the dishes late at night to relieve an exhausted spouse, making school lunches for kids who don’t say thank you, changing a 2-week-old’s diapers so your wife can rest, or waking up early to make your family breakfast, even when you’re tired, it all does something in you. It shapes you to be like Jesus, which the Bible says, is the form of love the Greeks called “agape,” it’s the love that is not dependent on a feeling, it is the self-sacrificial, self-giving love that says “yes” to serving, even when it doesn’t feel nice, natural, comfortable, and even when it doesn’t feel reciprocated. This kind of love is a commitment that often feels so difficult at the moment that we stumble, fail, and stink at it, but we keep pushing forward, not because it feels nice, but because it shapes us to be a certain type of person. We are learning that our commitment to love this way, despite all the ups and downs (and there have been lots), has shaped us into the types of people who can endure the biggest freak accident imaginable and come out the other side still ready to say yes to serve one another late into the hours of the night, through exhaustion and discomfort. We didn’t “rise to the occasion,” being ready was being shaped in us all along, and it just took this accident to realize it.
Thanks for reading, see you next time!
UPDATE: Saturday, September 14th @ 11:45am (Andy)
About three months ago, Colton struggled with entering the summer and leaving some of his preschool buddies behind. He was aware many of them would not attend the same Elementary School in the Fall and was missing his teacher, Mrs. Laura. That was the first time I remember Natalie introducing him to a phrase we said a lot then and have only increased its usage in the past 6 weeks: “You’re allowed to be sad and brave at the same time.”
If you have a pulse, you’ve had this experience before: someone approaches you, smiles, and asks plainly and kindly, “How are you?” At that moment, a quick, fleeting thought crosses your mind. You know this is not a legitimate question you’re supposed to answer; you’re supposed to smile, nod, and say, “Good! How are you?” because the honest answer to “How are you?” is complicated, complex, and would take at least two refills on your coffee to be answered with any legitimacy. This same “how-are-you-I’m-good-thanks-how-are-you” conundrum is playing out in our lives every day. So, for this update, I thought I’d write out the raw, real answers to the two most common questions I get and try my best not to settle for “good” but to give you a real idea of the complexity of our real life.
Question #1 - How is Natalie doing?
Natalie is doing great, and we marvel at how far she’s come in just a few weeks, but sometimes she’s not doing well, and a combination of exhaustion and pain makes thinking beyond the next hour a challenge. Natalie’s pain is under control, and she laughs and shares stories with friends with her old carefree demeanor, but then sometimes it’s not at all, and she winces in pain and labors in every micro movement, awaiting her next pain medication. Natalie sets goals and rallies and blows us all away (she went to Colton’s back-to-school night via wheelchair transport with me this past Wednesday, for crying out loud!), but she also pays for it by never leaving the bed all day Thursday. Natalie is so grateful to get to see our boys every day, cuddle them, talk to them, pray over them, and do their hair before school (her new job), but she also cries over her lack of mobility to even reach an extra two feet to grab Shepherd as he, in slow motion, jumps face first off the bed next to her into the bench below (post bonk damage pictured below). Despite all the ups and downs, Natalie is more than optimistic, she is hopeful. We pray over her nerve-damaged left foot and lower leg every day, and she carries with her a gratitude for life like nobody I know. She is so brave, but she is also sad at the same time.
Natalie in the wheelchair transport van on her way home from Colton's "Back to School Night.”
Shepherd showing off his epic goose egg after taking a headfirst dive off the bed into the bench.
Many have asked about her recovery and what the long-term prognosis may be. In many ways, Natalie is healing well. Her once never-ending, debilitating rib pain from the nine broken ribs now seems like more of an annoyance unless she’s transferring to the potty or wheelchair. Her broken vertebrae and sacrum seem like background noise and rarely pop up as a symptom other than stiffness or tenderness. Her shattered left shoulder blade continues to give her a great deal of pain and is the primary pest that prevents her from finding a comfortable position while sitting or lying, but she has been diligent in continuing her very slow progress through PT exercises. Her right shoulder has also popped up in recent weeks as a bit of a problem, and she will need some scans to determine if perhaps she has some lower-scale damage there, causing her shooting pain. She has a dentist appointment on Wednesday to look at some teeth that were broken in her accident, which is also probably news to you reading. Her surgically rebuilt hip has, as far as we know, continued to progress, but she still has 6+ weeks of hip precautions, is unable to bend past 90-degrees, and is not able to bear any weight through the leg. One detail we learned the day before we left Boise was that in her hip break and dislocation, Natalie had severe damage to her sciatic nerve, which is likely one of the culprits for distorted sensations in her left shin and calf (sometimes even a light touch of a finger causes extreme pain). Her rebuilt knee (which required 3 cadaver transplants, by the way), continues to remain immobilized for most of the day other than her 4 hours of passive motion machine and some light quad muscle activation exercise while laying in bed. Her new artery continues to pump blood as it was intended and she has yet to experience any side effects.
We want to invite you to pray for Natalie’s left foot. In the midst of her nasty knee dislocation and ligament damage, her perineal nerve was badly stretched and bruised. As of now, she has very limited feeling in her foot and has a condition called “Drop Foot,” where she is able to point her foot downward but has no ability to lift the foot back up. Her knee surgeon was hopeful that the nerve was not permanently damaged but would take up to 18 months to fully regenerate before it would be known for sure what the damage would be. We are praying daily that the damage will be just a season soon forgotten, that the nerve will fully regenerate, and that Natalie will be skateboarding, rollerblading, and rock climbing with the boys by the time that 18-month timeframe closes. Despite all the injuries, pain, blurry future, and questions about recovery time, Natalie is brave, even though she is also sad from time to time. Each morning, she wakes up grateful to God for one more day!
Natalie's nightly routine consists of taking off her drop foot (and sometimes whole knee) braces while enjoying a kombucha.
Question #2 - How is Colton doing?
After missing his first days of kindergarten, which started on August 22nd, Colton finally got to jump in with his classmates on September 3rd! He was scared, but we repeated our phrase lots of times, prayed with him and for him; and his bravery blew me away as I walked him into his classroom on his first day. He is, in so many ways, a normal five-year-old boy: he loves his weekly taekwondo classes, loves the independence of being allowed to carve a stick with a knife (seated with supervision, of course), he likes to push boundaries on which shows he’s allowed to watch, cut corners in his daily task of cleaning his room, eats his entire lunch except the carrot sticks, and is convinced he is “doing wheelies” on his bike when he pulls his front tire an inch off the ground! However, Colton now carries a weight that few kids his age can relate to, and sometimes the weight he carries is just too heavy for his little legs to lift. We have sought professional help for his trauma and the symptoms that go with it, but are not afraid: God gave this boy to us, and we are seeking wisdom and counsel as we contend for the very best for Colton now and into the future.
Since the accident, Colton seems much older to me – it’s an unspoken respect that one man has for another, like knowing “that guy over there was a Navy Seal” or “I think that guy is training to climb Everest.” The only difference is that Colton is my own son. Sometimes, in the middle of correcting him or having a short fuse toward him, I’m overwhelmed with a rush of emotion as I remember what he has seen, what he has done, and how our family is together because God made him the way that he is. Still, it’s not been easy on his little heart and mind. It is not lost on anyone that without Colton, it’s entirely possible (if not likely) that Natalie is not here with us today. The weight of that experience is something he and Natalie share together. I often find them whispering together on the bed at night, shedding a few tears, but kindred and connected in a way that defies explanation or description; it is a connection few boys have ever had with their mommies and one that I admire and adore, but also one I know I can never fully understand.
The truth is that Colton is very very sad, but he’s also very brave at the same time. He knows Jesus with a fondness and sweetness that sometimes sneaks out of him unexpectedly. Quietly sitting in the backseat on the way to school the other day, I asked if he was okay. He said he was, but then a few seconds later, blurted out: “I’m not sure I even like school, can you just pray that I will like it?” I love that he loves to pray and isn’t shy about asking us to pray for him. He is so brave that when I stand back and think through what he has seen, what he has done, and what he is experiencing even now, I admire him, as I’d imagine few daddies have ever admired their own 5-year-old sons.
Colton’s classmates made him a new sign to welcome him to their class. His new school and kindergarten class have been a major blessing and a complete answer to our prayers.
So, the honest truth about how we are doing is that it’s complicated! We are enjoying every moment of being back together as a family and learning the new rhythms of life that are slowly becoming our “new normal.” Deep down, we all carry the weight of a sadness that is hard to explain, but we are not cast down or destroyed; we carry the hope of Jesus, so even in our sadness, we are choosing to be brave and continue to focus on just “winning one more day.”
We want to thank you all for your continued support and love in this season. Thank you to the close friends who have sat cross-legged on our bed laughing and listening to Natalie, bringing her joy, which really is the best medicine. Thank you to all who have prayed, brought meals, taken our boys for outings, folded laundry, done dishes, run to Costco, and knocked on the door to say hello. We are grateful beyond words.
See you all again soon!
Chapter 5 - The Comeback
UPDATE: Saturday, October 5 @ 10:30am (Andy)
As I sit down to write this long overdue update, I am sitting in a rocking chair in my bedroom, looking at Natalie. She is lying on the bed, flat on her back, left leg fully wrapped and braced, extended and strapped into her CPM, a hideous “continuous passive motion” contraption of metal, velcro, and faux yellow lamb’s wool, complete with a little remote control; a device with a monotonous, low humming sound that I’ve become all too accustomed to hearing at all hours of the day. “We would like you to use it for four hours per day, every day, in order to maintain some flexibility and mobility in your knee joint,” we were told. And so, in the midst of doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, short visits with friends, neighborhood pushes in the wheelchair, eating dinner, reading the kids books, the 90-minute process of showering, and so on, Natalie lays on her back, leg extended, the low humming noise churning out repetitions of her knee slowly rising and falling hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of times over the course of weeks and now months.
I write all this because as I sit here, it dawned on me that this routine perfectly illustrates what life looks like right now. While many have grown accustomed to the explosive updates like “Natalie’s leg might get amputated,” but now “they restored blood flow, and she gets to keep it!” the reality of these past two weeks is more subtle, slow, methodical, and require a balanced and thoughtful approach and a keen eye to notice the many improvements. Like the CPM, these days are filled with routines that have become habitual. Things like holding her leg, not allowing it to cross her midline as she swings out of bed, angling the wheelchair to accommodate her as she sits back, always slightly shifted toward her right hip to avoid impact on the left, having the hemi-walker ready in the perfect spot for the two one-legged hops from the wheelchair to the elevated potty seat, pausing to remember which day it is to organize medications properly, or double-checking ride requests and approvals from the medical transport company. These are the routines of daily life, the things that passively shape us to be the people we are, even as we do them hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of times.
Some of our other family routines: nightly cuddles and back tickles compliments of mom and Colton’s weekly taekwondo classes, where he recently passed his first test and earned his new yellow belt!
In the midst of all the knee bends and pre-kindergarten morning routines, there has also been a flurry of activity, and update-worthy material is slowly stacking up and ready to be shared, so after two+ weeks of no updating, here we go…
This past week, we celebrated a giant milestone in Natalie’s recovery: we no longer need to book a wheel-chair transport van whenever she needs to go to an appointment! After much practice, some growing shoulder strength, and the additions of running boards and a grab bar to our new van, Natalie is now able to pull herself to standing upright on one leg, turn and slide butt and back first down the front bench seat, turning halfway to prop her leg on the mass of pillows we stole from our own couch to put between the two front seats. You can only imagine Shepherd’s squealing laughter as the boys sat in their car seats and realized that Mom gets to be on car rides with us again! It’s in these moments that we get glimpses into the innocence and tenderness of childhood. I asked Colton on the way to school if he thought it was pretty cool that Mom could ride with us again. “I didn’t really know she could ever do that again, so I really liked her doing that, Dad.” And so we’ve continued to celebrate these small victories and pray and pray and pray that Natalie doesn’t have to pee away from the house, as she is unable to use 99% of public toilets because they are too low to maintain her hip precautions and because it just isn’t overly reasonable to carry a full-sized over-toilet commode around for convenience. A solution to this problem is TBD!
Natalie’s wheelchair is a great tool to help her move around, but it also doubles as one of Shepherd’s favorite climbing structures.
Most of our destinations on these car rides remain the same: doctor’s appointments, a parent-teacher conference, and even a short (but sweet) anniversary lunch date (Natalie and I celebrated our 9-year Wedding Anniversary on October 3rd). However, the vast majority of our rides are to Physical Therapy, where we spend more time than anywhere except our home. Natalie will likely have PT three days a week for at least a year. Back in Boise, Natalie received PT twice daily, 5 days per week. It was then that one of her trusted therapists (shoutout to Josh) shared with her some wisdom: “You have to advocate for yourself and do your homework. Your condition, especially your knee, is not something many Physical Therapists will have seen a lot of or have the confidence to work with,” he went on to explain something that we would not have known, relaying that “at many places, you will be seen by the therapist for 15 minutes then passed along to an aide to carry out your exercises.” Natalie took this advice to heart upon our arrival home and began (figuratively) knocking on doors. Many promising leads turned out to be duds, and one gracious office even had the honesty to let her know that they would love to help but just were not equipped to handle her recovery. Just when some discouragement started to set in, another connection emerged.
“Andy” had been mentioned in conversation by multiple people in the weeks prior to our trip home. One of Natalie’s co-workers had rehabbed a knee surgery with him, and our trusted chiropractor vouched for his professionalism and thoroughness. Natalie had written him off as an accessible option due to the fact that his practice was in Costa Mesa, and we live about 20+ minutes away. After all the closed doors and the ticking clock with the surgeon’s words in our minds (“Most failed knee surgeries are because of lack of PT consistency, not the surgery itself”), Natalie received a text out of the blue from her chiropractor a few weeks later stating that Andy was willing to come to our home! So she gave him a call: “I’ve been following your story closely,” he said, “What if I just come to your house and do an evaluation to get an idea of your clinical needs?” He quickly jumped, proactively, into getting approval to take a look at Natalie’s surgical records, go with us to a doctor’s appointment to discuss her hip and shoulder precautions, and he even joined a virtual call with Natalie’s knee surgeon. And so, despite the hilarious reality that we’re both named Andy, leading to at least 15 unneeded head-turns per week, Andy is Natalie’s physical therapist, fully invested in her recovery. His investment is not just until she “gets some strength back,” but for the long-haul: to see her through to standing on two feet one day, to regaining muscle memory to walk again so she can chase Colton and Shep at the park, to mobilize her shoulder so she can hold our boys again, to push her physical limits to one day be able to walk back up the stairs at Trim to the community and Lagree method that she loves so dearly. His graciousness on time (we now go to Costa Mesa twice per week, and he comes to our home once per week), his ability to ease fears, ask the right questions directly to Natalie’s doctors, confidently direct Natalie’s rehab, and so on has been nothing short of another answer to our prayers. And so, “therapist Andy, not dad Andy,” as Shepherd now says, is slowly part of our routine, quickly becoming our friend and probably the most important long-term member of Natalie’s medical recovery team.
Andy pushes Natalie’s knee joint to the point of discomfort for another hold. Her face tells you the story of how this part of her recovery feels.
People have been asking, “Where exactly is Natalie on her recovery journey?” The real answer is that it is tough to say exactly. This past Tuesday, we followed up with Natalie’s knee surgeon, who was very encouraged to hear of her progress and mobility. He also reiterated his belief from seeing her damaged nerve while operating on her knee that it will regenerate in due time, but it may take 12 months to know for certain. However, there are already very small signs that she is gaining some movement back through tiny, micro wiggles in her toes! If you are a praying person, keep praying for Natalie’s nerve damage in her lower left leg. For now, she continues to work on range of motion, which looks like her CPM machine, sitting on the edge of the bed with her knee dangling gently below, painfully letting gravity pull it downward, lying with her brace off and a rolled towel under her ankle for full extension and other similar exercises. She is still unable to bear any weight through her leg, primarily because of her hip surgery. Technically, Natalie’s hip, which was operated on to reconstruct her acetabulum (the back portion of the hip socket) on August 1st, will reach it’s 12-week non-weight-bearing finish line on Thursday, October 24th. While there will be more information before that date to determine the exact protocols, if everything goes according to plan, that will be the day she can begin putting her foot on the floor. That will be a day we celebrate well, I can guarantee you all that! Natalie’s shattered left shoulder has responded to PT and is progressing well. She is now able to absorb some weight into her shoulder, like when she slowly lowers herself back into the wheelchair from standing on one leg. She is beginning some small range of motion exercises requiring her to hold a 3-foot long PVC pipe, which continues to go missing in our house…if you have boys, you know why… Colton and Shep constantly steal it and turn it into a sword, of course. Natalie’s rib pain is nearly gone and only acts up when she is pushing her shoulder’s range of motion during PT. Her artery surgery continues to be a success, and we will pursue follow-ups with a local vascular surgeon to determine long-term prognosis and care in the coming weeks.
So, every morning we wake up and we go about our new jobs. For Natalie, she’s now in the business of full-time rehab. “Just do something,” is the motto we’ve heard and adopted. If you visited our house, you’d find Natalie in her CPM, doing quad exercises, sitting at the edge of the bed with a PVC pipe in hand, or massaging a generous dose of Deep Blue into her sore muscles. I spend my time making lunches, changing diapers, affixing band-aids to phantom injuries, taking daily walks to see the same Halloween decorations (Shepherd is obsessed with the “spooky skeletons”), dispensing medications, flipping through medical bills in the mail, and praying my way through staying steady on this marathon. Here is my encouragement to you reading: your daily routines are doing something to you, so do them with intentionality and purpose. Making another school lunch is needed whether we’re “feeling it” or not, so why not add a little note to remind your son how much you love him? Pouring a second cup of coffee and delivering it to your spouse takes 30 extra seconds and can set the tone in your house so that both adults are unified and on the same page. Putting your phone down, pulling a child on your lap, and reading a book takes a little effort but beats another episode of whatever show they are watching. Waking up a few minutes earlier to pray for your day, express your fears or doubts to God, read a Psalm, and breathe in some quiet air before your house comes alive just may be what sets your course for that day. Imagine doing small things with purpose and on purpose for hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of days in a row. I believe wholeheartedly that this is where true discipline comes from, and it’s the stuff most of our favorite people on the planet are made out of, and I want to be that kind of person, too.
I want to wrap up this update with a giant thank you to everyone who signed up for our Meal Train and has provided us with meals. Not only has the food been unbelievably delicious, but your willingness to help us with a tangible need during this season means the world to us. Your encouragements and visits that have come packaged with the dinners you have brought have been the wind in our sails and taken a big burden off us. I’m even swallowing my pride a little as our boys comment things like, “dad, how come you don’t cook like this?” I also want to thank all of Natalie’s friends who have spent time just sitting in our bedroom. I told a close friend (shoutout to Caroline) something that is true of all of you: when I come home and hear her laughing with you from upstairs, I always think of how close we were to losing that laugh in our lives and how much I missed that laugh for those weeks in Idaho; it is the spark of life that is on full display in her and a constant reminder that she is here to stay. While doctor’s appointments, therapy sessions, leg exercises, and medication protocols are all important parts of Natalie’s recovery, I am now convinced that laughter (along with joy and deep, meaningful conversations) really is the best medicine. So thank you to all who have nourished our bellies with delicious food and those who have nourished our souls with your friendship and presence.
Until next time – blessings to you and yours.
UPDATE: Friday, October 25 @ 11:25pm (Andy)
This morning, at exactly 11:09am, just shy of 90 days and roughly 2,100 hours after that pine tree came whizzing through the Idaho morning air and smashed into Natalie’s left shoulder, taking out nearly the entire left side of her body, in the milliseconds that followed, she stood, one-legged out of her wheelchair, put two hands on our kitchen counter for support and, with the very watchful and careful eye of her PT, slowly set her bare left foot onto the ground and began to shift a small percentage of her weight into her left foot for the very first time. At first, she didn’t smile or grimace; she just stared ahead, gaze slightly downward, with an expression I’ve come to admire in the past 3 months: it’s the look of quiet determination and grit, it’s a fierceness that tells me she is 100% focused and committed to the task at hand. Many of you who know her well (or who have just done a Trim workout beside her) know the look, too: it’s the one that points to a deep drive and mental tenacity that very few people have. It’s the look that you see and immediately connect the dots: whatever “it” is, it’s one of the main reasons she’s still here today.
In one sense, this was just the natural progression of where she’s come from in the last couple of months: the long, drawn-out healing of broken bones, slowly ramping up flexion in her knee in PT, diligently following protocols from the hip surgeon in Boise, literally hundreds of hours spent in her CPM machine, the daily gritting of teeth as she pushes her nerve-damaged foot to rise the quarter, half then full inch, medication at all hours of the day (and night) for every form of human pain, and appointments to confirm, adjust, and amend the plan, and so on. In this sense, she simply just “did the next thing” in a succession of things to do on this long journey.
As I quietly type away at this update, I am sitting in the same chair as always; Natalie is asleep on the bed in front of me, breath slightly labored but a contentment on her face. Of course, despite sleeping, her CPM machine still rolls on: up and down and up and down, her knee rising and falling – her body will wake her up when it has had enough, and I’ll lug it back to the floor where it too will rest a few hours before it gets put back in its place to start again tomorrow. However, as I take a giant step back this evening and remember where she started and what my eyes have seen and my ears have heard, the three little minutes of supported standing in my kitchen this morning carry a different weight to them.
After the surreal, out-of-body experience of watching her strapped to a backboard, moaning and passing out in pain, only to come back to semi-consciousness and then start that cycle again as she was loaded from an ATV to an ambulance, the forceful shouts of “stay with us, your kids want to see you again!” from behind a thin wall as I sat in the front seat of the ambulance as we drove to the local hospital, her lifeless body laying as doctors, nurses, techs, paramedics, etc. all rushed frantically about her, shouting their commands as lights flashed and machines blared in disapproval, the sinking emptiness of every minute sitting alone in a waiting room in the middle of the night waiting to hear if she would emerge with one or two legs upon completion, the sucking sound of the intubation tube breathing for her in the ICU, the urgent beep of her oxygen sensor blurting out that she needed the machine turned up, the hoarse, labored whispers of “Andyyyy?” as she confirmed she was not alone in the dark of night, the concerned repetition of wanting to know where she was and why she was there for days, and so on, this moment doesn’t seem so inevitable to me at all. In light of it all, it seems like a sweet, miraculous gift to be cherished and a mental snapshot that should never be forgotten. I will cherish it, and I won’t forget.
It seemed fitting that, on the day Natalie began putting her foot back on the ground, Colton was honored at school. We were asked if we could attend a small award ceremony in his little classroom where he would receive a character award: he was given the “Courage Award” from his sweet teacher, with Natalie, Shepherd, and I all in attendance. Natalie cried quietly as his teacher shared her thoughts, citing David advancing toward Goliath without fear: Colton has seen God’s faithfulness and, because of that, he is unafraid to run toward scary things. We couldn’t be more proud of him!
And so, this is where we are: right smack in the middle of a very long road to recovery, but doing it as a unified family. As of Thursday, October 24th, Natalie has officially entered the next rehabilitation phase. Despite the discovery that some of her prolonged shoulder pain is because she actually has a Grade 4 Shoulder Separation (picture below), the vast majority of the news was “best case scenario,” and Natalie’s 12-week restrictions on hip movement have been lifted! The lingering fear of a condition called “avascular necrosis,” a very real possibility considering the severity of her hip dislocation and break, was silenced for the near future, and she was given the green light to begin the next phase of rehab. Her goals are the same: to skateboard and ride bikes with the boys, to sit on the floor in the “cozy zones” Shepherd makes to read books, to workout with her closest friends at her beloved Trim, to hike in God’s creation, to go on bowling dates and splash in the pool on summer days. She will continue PT three days a week, likely for the next year, as she toe-taps, steps softly, walks assisted, and then marches back to health as her atrophied muscles strengthen again.
I was thinking about muscle atrophy and how quickly an unused muscle begins to thin out and then disappear. “Use it or lose it,” they say. [Confession: this definition and this catchy quote can be found by simply typing “muscle atrophy” into google, which I did, to make sure I didn’t sound like a complete moron for the next few sentences… anyway, back the point…]. While Natalie’s muscles have atrophied, she has been flexing some other muscles, mainly her spiritual and relational ones. Never have I seen her more alive in her faith and insistence that God is for her and with her than now. Her love of God positively radiates from her at all hours of the day, but none quite like the hour after Colton returns from school, when she lays in her recliner chair and turns on a worship song on the TV and watches the kids dance, scream, jump off the sofa and laugh together as she looks on chuckling. We pray and debrief our day together every night, and her heart is full of gratitude and hope in a contagious kind of way that makes me want to pray bigger prayers and be even more “all in” as friend, husband, and dad. She does her weekly counseling sessions virtually from our bed, and as she unpacks her experiences from the last few months with her therapist, she is living out the theme that her very best life is actually ahead of her, not behind, and she wants to use every tool at her disposal to work toward that reality. And, while our ability to be out and about and socialize has diminished, the depth and sweetness of friendships have been highlighted in this season like never before. In between her many appointments, there is always someone sitting with her, never wasting time on small talk but going deep about the struggles and beauty of life. We always end our days marveling at how incredible the people God has brought into our life are, reminding one another that we should never take you all for granted.
Here is a confession and then an encouragement to you reading. First, the confession: I was not always this reflective and grateful for the gift of life. In fact, the morning we set out on that fateful hike, Natalie and I were lowkey at one another. It was not an explosive disagreement; in fact, I don’t even remember what it was about, but I do remember because I recall praying on my drive to Boise to wait for her to emerge from her first surgery. “God, please just don’t let some dumb, petty thing be my last interaction with my wife.” So, here’s my encouragement: you don’t have to wait for something traumatic or a life-altering event to take place to start cherishing those close to you and seeing life as the miraculous gift that it is, you could just start now. Use your words to tell your spouse how much they mean to you, use your actions to serve a neighbor, buy a thoughtful gift to surprise a friend, just sit and be present for a while, go for a hug over a handshake, you get the idea. More than anything pray for discernment and the courage to let little, non-consequential things go, they aren’t worth your time and energy.
Update: I have chatted with Natalie and we’ve made a decision about these updates. While you may, on occasion, see a longer update like this one, from this point forward, we want to be more diligent and faithful to post. In order to do that, you will likely begin to see 1 or 2 paragraph updates and some pictures once or twice per week going forward. We hope you like that new format, and we look forward to taking you along for the ride as Natalie progresses one baby step at a time.
Until next time, happy Saturday! Hold those close to you near.
UPDATE: Friday, November 1 @ 8:20pm (Andy)
This morning, just a few days after celebrating 3 months since her accident, Natalie was wrapping up her in-home Friday PT session when she casually asked me to “watch this.” As I stood in front of her, she scooted her rear to the edge of the PT table, took a deep, focused her breath, planted her strong right leg on the ground with her scar-covered left leg timidly following and staggered slightly behind, slowly pushed into her palms, and rose a few inches before her fingers left the table and then there she was, standing with no assistance! She paused for a short second before leaning forward to kiss me with a little “what are you so surprised about?!” look on her face. She couldn’t hold back the small grin at the corner of her mouth from growing into her explosive, infectious Natalie smile.
All those nights of praying and wondering if she’d ever do exactly what I was now looking at rushed through my brain, and emotion snuck up on me as a couple of big, salty tears ran down my face. I quickly and quietly wiped them away as I told her exactly what I felt, “I’m so proud of you!” Colton, standing a few feet away, looked up and blurted out, “She’s standing?! How is she standing?!” Our friend and neighbor, Kelly, who had been in Boise the day of Natalie’s knee surgery, held out her arm to show us she was covered in goosebumps and Natalie’s mom, Lallie, put her hand to her mouth and declared that she too wanted to cry. It's a strange thing to realize in a flash that you actually haven’t seen your wife stand unsupported on her own two feet in 3+ months. In fact, the last time I saw her standing, I waved goodbye on that Monday morning as she and Colton ascended that mountain trail to finish a hike while Shepherd and I hiked down off the mountain to get him down for his nap.
In true Natalie fashion, after standing on her own feet, she smiled and laughed contentedly, then went right back to practicing a few more times until she was pleased with her progress. Then, she transitioned into her day: more hours in the CPM machine, more quad sets, leg extensions, shoulder mobility exercises, a well-earned nap, visiting with neighborhood friends and chatting with a client from Trim in our backyard, dinner as a family, and then… right back in the CPM machine for more knee mobility exercise where she is currently laying, fully asleep as I’m writing this update.
Natalie often likes to move on to tackle what’s next faster than I do, and I’m in a sentimental mood, so let it be known: my wife stood all by herself once again on November 1st, 2024, and I was prouder of her in that moment than when either of our kids did it (sorry boys)! Despite a long road to travel, our horizon has now broadened again. Almost immediately upon seeing her, my imagination of what her recovery would look like changed. In future scenes, I no longer envision her wheelchair at all. Instead, it’s a walker and then a cane, and then ultimately, she is just holding my hand as we chat and forget, even for just little fleeting moments, that she ever used all those things to get there.
This is the hope God invites us into. It comes with the invitation to cast fear upon Him, to recognize it and call it what it is, not to set reality aside, but to live under the umbrella of knowing God is in control and has a plan that is not our own. I do not understand fully what our future will hold, although I can say with confidence that there will be new challenges to tackle and unexpected news that will require lots of deep breaths. However, I also know that Natalie has now progressed well beyond the place where my fear once imagined she could stall or get stuck. Her standing was a reminder to me: fear is real, but it flees in the presence of hope.
Whatever season of life you find yourself in, I am sure it comes with a dose of difficulty that you didn’t choose for yourself. As you take note of where fear has crept into your imagination of the future, do you notice how it cruelly whispers to you, only stoking more fear? If so, we have that in common, and I know well that fear is in the business of bringing about anxiety and stress too. But God invites us into hope. Hope is not shallow optimism or false positivity; it is the way we were designed to live, recognizing that reality can be very hard, but it will not have the final say. Ultimate triumph belongs to God, and until then, He promises to walk beside us, even in “the valley of the shadow of death.”
Until next time, thanks for reading!
UPDATE: Monday, November 11 @ 3:00pm (Andy)
“Let’s start over so I can wrap my mind around this,” he said with a big, infectious smile, “I’m Dr. Wayne (name changed for privacy purposes); now, let’s go back to the very beginning; tell me what happened and how you got here with me.” This is how our visit began last week as Natalie and I met with her new Vascular Surgeon to follow up on her artery bypass surgery [google search “femoral-popliteal artery bypass surgery” if you’re into seeing things that make you queasy]. “Natalie,” he said in a comforting voice, “you and I are going to be very, very good friends. We will meet together at least once every 6 months… for the rest of your life.” Over the next few minutes, Dr. Wayne shifted from a highly esteemed surgeon who we had been referred to by countless others to another knowledgeable, kind, and joyful member of “Team Natalie,” as I affectionately call it. He will be in the driver’s seat for all things related to her artery bypass surgery and a trusted expert to anticipate and recognize what she will need to thrive moving forward. As I wheeled Natalie out of the offices and down the ramp, we both commented on how we liked him instantly; his love for his job was evident and contagious. We continue to be in quiet awe at the quality and character of the people God continues to lead us to and surround us with.
So, as we begin a new week, I contemplate the fact that Natalie has now surpassed 100 days since her accident. I want to pause for a moment and celebrate her progress while highlighting the doctors and experts who have helped her on her road to recovery. 100 days ago, there was no clarity (let alone certainty) about what Natalie’s future would hold. For 100 days, Natalie spent 99% of her time lying down or sitting in a wheelchair, but this new chapter has her upright and beginning to take steps once again. She is starting to test her endurance standing during worship at church, rising to give her friends a proper hug, and taking small steps while using the walker. Her new exercises include moving from sitting to standing on her own too.
Despite her endless and abounding drive to succeed and push herself in every way, she would not be taking any steps at all if it were not for a village of people who came and continue to come together to put the pieces back together. These are the people we now spend much of our time with, ask some of our most pressing questions to, trust for wisdom on making medical decisions, pray for, and, for many, now think of as part of our extended family. It is a medical landscape we never thought we would need to navigate in our mid-30s, but here we are, and we’ve found that the care, attention to detail, and interest in providing Natalie with the very best have been a breath of fresh air. For that, I am forever grateful to everyone who has helped my wife get back on her feet! Things like picking Shepherd up to squeeze him again and standing to throw a football with Colton are all back on the “what is going to be possible?” radar, and there are no words that can ever say thank you for that enough, but here’s a little insight…
Just for context, on any given week, Natalie has a mix of appointments with some combination of (not an exaggeration): her physical therapist pushing her physically as she gains strength and mobility in her knee, hip and shoulder (soon to be 5 days per week), a marriage and family therapist helping her process through the trauma of this season of life, one orthopedic surgeon focused exclusively on her reconstructed left knee, a second orthopedic surgeon who focuses on her reconstructed hip and mangled shoulder, a pain specialist who manages all her medications, a vascular surgeon who is the quarterback for all things blood flow related (especially that artery bypass surgery behind her left knee), a general practitioner keeping track of her overall progress and health markers, a dentist who is putting one cracked and chipped tooth back together at time, a thoracic surgeon who will follow the healing of her punctured lung and broken ribs, and a neurologist who is tracking the progression of her nerve-damaged left leg and drop foot. In addition, on any given week, a mix of these doctors can send us for MRIs, X-rays, ultrasounds, blood tests, EMGs, and more. The sheer volume of appointments and scheduling can be daunting. Still, there is always a silver lining: these people are awesome, and despite exhaustion, we are often excited to see them, catch up, and share Natalie’s progress! Combined with Natalie’s desire to push toward recovery, these are the people we honor for getting her to take those baby steps!
Here is my encouragement to you: pause and think about the people God has put in your life and recognize them as reminders of God’s love and grace to you. A friend who always makes you laugh even when life is hard – a gift to be cherished. When you’re a total jerk, and your spouse forgives you and serves you anyway – a gift to be cherished. When your child, covered in a combination of sticky food and playtime dirt, looks you in the eye and tells you they love you – a gift to be cherished. A surgeon who spent a decade learning and preparing comes into the room with joy and laughter after putting your knee back together – a gift to be cherished. Sometimes, we find the greatest gifts in the rudimentary, everyday life situations and places we may forget to look.
If you're looking for a move of God in your life, start with those nearest to you. Thank God for the ways they share their time, energy, and talents with you. As a family, we are learning to slow down, and as we grow closer together, we are blown away by how God's fingerprints are everywhere in this story. We see them in crowded waiting rooms, noisy car rides with screaming kids, phone calls scheduling more appointments, and in every doctor who makes eye contact with Natalie and faithfully begins to lay out the roadmap for moving forward. Every night as a family, we share what we are grateful for at dinner and one person we want to pray for. If you've provided medical care, delivered a meal, sacrificed your precious time sitting by Natalie's side in bed, or even faithfully texted her to check in, we pray for you. We are grateful for you and could not have survived these past 100 days without you.
Blessings.
“…but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
— Romans 5:3-5