Anne

Day 1 of Therasuit therapy

Anne had her first Therasuit session today. (She will have 15, four hour sessions over the next three weeks.) It was intense. I think she cried for over half the time… not because she was in pain – just because she was MAD. This therapy is hard work, and Anne does not like to work hard. That’s actually one of her biggest obstacles. She puts forth little effort, and when therapists demand more, Anne gets mad.

My prayer is that one day she will channel that stubbornness into getting better. In the interim, we’ll just have to listen to her cry. It’s sooooooooo good for her!

Here’s a rough video of Anne walking on the treadmill. She walked a total of 15 minutes with two short breaks. You can hear her crying :-) Don’t worry, she’s not in pain. It’s just her way of complaining!

14 more days to go…

Pray for Anne…

June 2012’s prayer requests:

  1. Anne starts an intense 3 week Therasuit therapy program Monday, June 4th. Please pray for stamina and a good attitude!
  2. Please pray for wisdom and discipline for me as I address Anne’s behavior issues. She demands constant attention, and is inconsolable when she doesn’t get her way. We have had many temper tantrums and tears in her first week of summer break.
  3. That she would know and rest in God’s presence and peace.

Thank you!

Kate is six.

Today is Kate’s sixth birthday. To be frank, I’ve been very sad in the weeks leading up to this day. The old Anne never reached this milestone. On her sixth birthday, she was struggling to write the letter “A.” Kate has perfect, beautiful handwriting and can read 2nd-grade-level-chapter-books.

Oh, I know that comparing is futile. But I wonder if Anne will ever get to where Kate is right now – at the ripe old age of 6. After many tears, I’ve come to the conclusion that Anne is on her own track… Her “progress” can’t be measured by the typical standardized tests. She is measured using a different standard – a “Kingdom of God” standard. She might not be able to read and write as well as Kate, but she’s good at encouraging others. She can’t walk on her own, but she is tender-hearted and kind (well, most of the time ;-)

And because of Anne’s disability, Kate has the opportunity to advance in “Kingdom” lessons too…. like sacrifice and patience.

We celebrated the stuffins’ out of Kate’s birthday today. We did and ate all of her favorite things – surrounded by all of her favorite people. Ironically, we celebrated Anne’s sixth birthday with the same people. This is what Eric wrote about that day:

This morning Anne was surrounded by the Bratcher and McKinney girls – they all loved on her and cuddled with her and talked to her. God had a good plan before the foundations of the earth and in that plan included a morning such as this – all for little Anne – just to bless her and show me that HE cares about even the little things, and especially Anne.

I could write the same thing about Kate today! Though Kate and Anne share different skills and strengths, they have one vital thing in common – they both have been bought by the precious blood of Jesus, and He has a good plan for each of them. They are both good… just different :-)

Year in Review

It’s May. May is always busy. In fact, there’s a post from a year ago that I could have just copied and pasted. Nothing has changed! Well that’s not really true. A lot can change in a year.

At the beginning of this school year, I set two goals for myself… 1)Write more, and 2)Exercise more. I’ve done okay on those goals.

Both goals were primarily about me finding time to do the things that I love, but I learned some valuable lessons in the pursuit.

Because of my writing, I was asked to speak at a national women’s conference in February. I’m one of those rare persons who loves speaking. I did a little speaking before Anne’s accident, so I was very ready to try out my teaching skills again. The conference went well, and I received encouraging feedback, but when I came home and looked into Anne’s eyes, I thought, “My place is here.”

I had a similar experience when I went away for a girls’ weekend with my running buddies. We went to Nashville to run a half marathon. Now that’s a major accomplishment, something that I’ve always wanted to do… But when I came home, and hugged my Anne, I had the same thought. “My place is here.”

I think there’s a part of me that still strives to find significance outside the home. It’s a struggle for most stay-at-home moms. The culture places little value on our work at home, so we try to reach outside to find significance. Writing and speaking are worthwhile pursuits (and I hope I get more opportunities), but my most significant work is the work I do behind my front door – the sacrificial work of taking care of my family.

This is so counter-cultural. And it’s especially hard to believe when I’m sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for Anne to have a bowel movement or when I’m washing soiled sheets or brushing Anne’s teeth. But the most significant thing I do – the thing that has the most eternal impact – is working together with Eric to care for our children. Somehow, these humble pursuits are deemed valuable by God. So, I’ll keep fighting against the part of me that longs for significance. And if I need clarification… all I have to do is look in Anne’s eyes and know that (at least for now)…  “My place is here.”

Pray for Anne…

May 2012’s prayer requests:

  1. We have weaned Anne from all medications (except her seizure med). She seems to be having withdrawal symptoms… lethargic during the day, restless at night and agitated all the time. Please pray that her body will adjust quickly and for wisdom on whether to introduce any new medications.
  2. We are considering a specialized, intense 3 week physical therapy program during the summer. Please pray for wisdom for us as we make a final decision.
  3. Finally, please pray for peace and joy for Eric and me as we prepare to care for Anne this summer.

Thank you!

The view from my front porch

Do you see that house across the street? Our good friends live there. They have three children. The second-born is Canon’s close friend, Joel. And the youngest is Natalie, who is only 6 weeks younger than Kate. The blue car in the cul-de-sac belongs to my mother. She lives in the basement of that house, in a two-bedroom apartment that our friends have rented out for years. We have much-needed support directly across the street.

Last week, I saw Canon, Joel and his older brother, Parker, race across the cul-de-sac on their scooters, hop up on the curb, run and then collapse in the green grass. The three of them wrestled a bit and then just relaxed. I can only imagine what they talked about as they lay in the soft grass. I thought of how much those boys have shared together. We stayed with this family after the accident. They let Joel stay home from school to be with Canon when he was released from the hospital. I remember the first time the family got to see Anne. There were strange tubes coming out of Anne’s nose and head. Her hair was a matted mess. But Canon turned to Joel and said, “Isn’t she beautiful?” Joel just nodded. He knew better than to argue.

Every afternoon Canon and Kate get to play – HARD – and live life at their pace with great friends. This allows Anne to stay inside (which she’s always preferred) and live life at her slower pace. And because Canon and Kate have such freedom, they are more inclined to slow down and sit with Anne. It’s a good balance, and a good life for Canon and Kate. And it makes me very thankful!

Some (not-so-profound) things I’ve learned…

I’ve learned a few things since Anne’s accident…

1. Anne does not have an “end-point.” In the early months after the accident, it comforted me to think that Anne had a fixed recovery period. Some therapists said one year… others said two years. But it’s been more than two years now, and Anne is still changing – and improving. None of us have “end-points.” I know I don’t! (At least I hope I don’t.) I would like to think I can still improve a little. What makes Anne any different? She will continue to grow and change her whole life. I’m good with that.

2. Anne needs to live life at a different pace than the rest of us. This seems obvious, doesn’t it? But I seem to forget this a lot – and Anne has a very inconvenient way of reminding me…

Like last Thursday afternoon when we had three scheduled activities back to back… Anne decided she needed to go to the bathroom between activity #1 & #2.

Continue reading →

Two years.

The following is a copy of my last post on Anne’s CaringBridge site. Thank you for praying and supporting us during the last two years, and thank you for continuing to follow us on my blog :-)

It’s been two years since our accident.

This will be my last post on the CaringBridge site. In the months following our accident, this site was a source of great comfort as so many of you wrote words of encouragement and offered prayers for Anne’s healing. She has made great progress and continues to grow and change in positive ways… but, we are left with the harsh truth that there are parts of Anne’s brain that still have significant damage. We are now learning to live with disability.

Anne still doesn’t walk independently, nor does she have the use of her left hand. She is cognitively challenged by a limited attention span, and she will struggle to keep pace with her peers academically. Yet Anne has many strengths to help her compensate. She is verbally strong and has a deep-rooted desire to love and connect with others. She has an amazing sense of humor and a compassionate heart. She is weak in body, yet strong in spirit :-)

Despite the difficulties of caring for a disabled child, I am struck by moments of inexpressible joy (1 Pet 1:8) and a peace that surpasses understanding (Phil 4:7). These moments are made possible only by the Spirit of God producing them for me. God knows there is nothing inherently joyful and peaceful about caring for a brain-injured child! However…. “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matt 19:26).

I also take great comfort in knowing that God is sovereign. Our car accident wasn’t a case of us being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t think I could go on if I believed I lost the daughter I knew and loved to brain injury just by chance. God’s word assures me there is a purpose for our pain, and therefore, we have the strength to carry on. But I also rest in God’s goodness. Even if I don’t understand His purposes in the here and now, I know that one day I will look back and see that His purposes were good.

So when kind-hearted people ask me how Anne is doing, my response is that she is “good.” Even though the question is directed to her physical and cognitive recovery, I’m not thinking of that. No, I mean that her person is good. God has a purpose for her, disability and all, and that is what is good.

Thank you for being with us these last two years. The ministry you’ve served in our lives is deep and oh-so-meaningful. You’ve carried us and sustained us, and we are so grateful. Feel free to continue to follow our family on my blog, kathrynJackson.com. We are moving on from recovery to adjusting to our new life with our new Anne. We would love to share our journey with you :-)

With much love and gratitude, Kathryn

And the old becomes new.

As we approach 2 years post-accident, we have much to be grateful for…

I remember the first time anyone mentioned “brain damage” to me. It was Anne’s second week in the PICU, and she was still in a coma. The PICU nurse innocently said that her neurostorms were just part of the “brain damage.” I just sat and cried as I considered that Anne might have significant brain damage.

I remember when Eric said that he couldn’t ever imagine Anne talking again. I couldn’t imagine her not talking! But a month after the accident when she did begin to talk, it was evident that Anne had significant brain damage. Even her voice sounded different. It still does.

When Anne came home from the hospital, I began to wrestle with how to grieve the old Anne – while at the same time – hoping for parts of her to return. Now I know that the old Anne is gone, and God has given us our new Anne. She is forever different. Even in heaven when she receives a new, unbroken body, her soul will be marked by learning to live with disability. She is simple, yet rich in spirit.

And now two years later, we are in a new house that has no memories of the “old” Anne. There is a finality about this new place. A finality that I am just now able to accept. We’ve been working toward this move for almost a year, and many times I wondered why it was taking so long to sell our old house… But God knew that I couldn’t handle leaving the place where I could see the old Anne in every corner. I loved that Anne. And I don’t see her in this house. There is no island where she would sit and pretend to cook. There is no fireplace where she would stand and sing for us. There is nothing in this house that reminds me of the “old” Anne. She is really …gone.

But. But.

God, in His great mercy has made her new. She is alive – and she is being transformed daily into a picture of God’s tender loving care toward us… his broken children. Anne is indeed special. And we are indeed blessed to know her.

Pray for Anne…

April 2012’s prayer requests:

  1. For wisdom concerning Anne’s Baclofen medication. Baclofen is the muscle relaxer used to reduce spasticity in her left foot, and so far the medication has been effective. But strangely, it acts as a stimulant in Anne resulting in lowered attention span and increased impulsivity. Please pray that we could find the right balance to decrease this negative side affect.
  2. Recently, Anne’s impulse to put everything in her mouth has greatly increased. Please pray for her oral fixation to greatly decrease (this could also be connected to the baclofen…)
  3. For Anne’s inner desire to do things for herself.. like walk and write and eat – to increase so she can begin to gain more independence,
  4. And lastly, for Anne to continue to wrestle with God’s goodness and love for her – and ultimately for her to grow to be a faithful woman of God!

Thank you!