Chapter 6: Great Expectations
Retelling the daily ups and downs couldn’t ever begin to capture the three months we spent at Kessler. Fortunately we were diligent in writing to Kevin in Caringbridge.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009 10:08 AM
Kevin's transfer to Kessler went smoothly. Yesterday we met with the doctors as well as the various therapists, nurses and support staff, all now part of the Special "K" team. Kessler is truly an amazing place.
Today Kevin begins his therapy, an hour and a half of physical and occupational therapy each morning from 9-10:30, then a half hour of speech therapy followed by another hour and half of PT/OT from 1-2:30pm. I get tired just thinking about it.
Visiting hours will be from 4-8:30pm. Joan and I thought we might start providing updates in the evenings since most of the activity will be happening during therapy hours.
Keep praying for Kevin's recovery and thanks for all your support and prayers. – Mike
Saturday, August 22, 2009 6:18 PM
Hi Kev – It’s Mom,
So you have been at Kessler now for three full days. Everyone has been great Kevin! We must have met at least 30 people and they are all committed to helping you get through this. I hope I can remember all their names. You know how I am so not good at that.
Your temperature was high when you got here and you have had some rough moments, but they have it under control. You cough. Oh, how you cough! They say that is a good thing. But when you go through those episodes it is so hard to watch. We are right there to clean you up. When you can't get out the phlegm, they need to go in and suction it out.
Today, your intravenous came out so they needed to put in a new IV and that upsets you. Your heart rate went up so high! I'm sorry. I had to leave the room. They said it would go down, but I just could not stand there helpless! Your speech therapist took the cue and brought me into her office to show me how to brush your teeth. They are so wonderful here. Sure enough, when I went back, your heart rate was at 88 instead of 170. You bounce back every time!
Kevin, I like writing to you like this now. You know how I have been writing to you in your journal ever since you were born, actually, even before you were born. Since the accident it has been hard for me to write to you. I have been so consumed with everything going on with you that I just haven't been able to keep up. So, as I am writing this for others who want very much to know how you are doing, I am finding that this is probably the best way for me to keep in touch with you as well. It is very easy to "talk" to you in this way. When you wake up, and we all know that you will, you can read these journal entries and then piece it all together. Don't worry honey. We are all here with you! – Love, Mom
Monday, August 24, 2009 3:26 PM
Hi Kev – It’s Mom
You had a pretty good night again. Not too much coughing. Now they have this neat machine called a coughalater. It is much less intrusive than inserting a suction tube into your trache. It’s like a vacuum cleaner that helps you bring up phlegm.
We had a meeting this morning with the doctor and about ten other therapists involved in your care. It was very informative. They are committed to getting you better. Daddy and I are so convinced that we made the right decision in choosing Kessler.
Speaking of Daddy, he plays guitar and sings for you every night just like when you were little. You are never too old to feel comforted by his songs. HEY! You just yawned! That’s a first. The nurse even saw it. Good Job Kevin! Darn, I wish I had my camera. – Love, Mom
The clock was ticking. I had learned enough about disorders of consciousness to know that time is the enemy. Chances of regaining consciousness are better in the first week, the first month, the first quarter, and the first year. We looked for any signs of change and celebrated each with new hope. And we prayed. Oh how we prayed.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009 10:26 AM
Hey Kev – It’s Dad
Wow, it's already been a week that you are at Kessler and we are really proud of you. In the last week you have made great progress. You're off oxygen completely and breathing on your own. You're coughing less and controlling your temperatures. Yesterday they removed your catheter, one more step toward being tube free.
You are sitting up in your wheel chair each day at 9am and you don't get back into bed until after 5pm. You were never a morning person so most of your progress seems to come in the afternoon. There are clear signs that you can swallow now. I haven't seen it myself but the therapists say that you made a slight movement of your thumb at the thumbs up command. You'll need to do that more consistently to get the Special "K" team dancing in the hallways. You seem to be moving your arms more now when before it was just the legs. You try to squeeze my thumb when I put it in your hand. That might be reflexive so they ask us to tell you to let go and if you respond, that would be in your words "amazing". You're starting to twitch those long eyelashes of yours. Maybe you'll open them soon.
They think you might actually be out of the coma even though your eyes haven't opened. Maybe there was some damage done to the nerves that control the eyes and you can't open them yet. They are monitoring your sleep/wake cycles, yet another sign that you might be out of the coma. I definitely heard you snoring yesterday. Keep up the good work buddy.
Last night you filled the Church at St. Leos. Father John led a prayer service and I was just amazed at how many people showed up on two days’ notice in the middle of vacation season. I'm sure you felt those prayers and the love from all the people that are pulling for you. – Love, Dad
As time passed we realized it would take a miracle to bring our Kevin back to us, so we prayed for just that, a miracle. We prayed in groups. We prayed in quiet moments of reflection. We prayed through the intercession of the Blessed Mother and the Saints. We researched the rich traditions of prayer and miracles in our faith, and reflected on the many instances of healing miracles in the bible. In almost every instance the individuals were told that it was faith that healed them. We were committed to keeping the faith and engaging others to join us. Our motto became “Storm Heaven for Kevin”.
Thursday, August 27, 2009 2:29 PM
Kev – It’s Dad again,
Tomorrow will be four weeks since the accident. It's also the feast day of St. Augustine. It was the Augustinian order that founded Villanova University. St. Augustine is the Saint that lived a pretty wild life as a young man. His mother St. Monica (her feast day is today) prayed and prayed that her son would return to God. Her prayers were answered, and one day he became one of the great spiritual leaders of the Church.
You never gave us any trouble as a teenager, but we still pray for your return. Kev, I have an idea. I'm going to ask everyone who reads this journal (as of today we have close to 20,000 hits to your web-site) to say a brief prayer tomorrow, Friday at noon. I'm going to ask them to stop what they're doing and "Storm Heaven for Kevin." I'll tell them to pray in any way they feel comfortable regardless of their religion for your healing. And just in case they're not sure what to say I'll give them a copy of a prayer from St Augustine below.
Prayer for the Sick - Saint Augustine
Watch, O Lord, with those who wake, or watch, or weep tonight,
And give your angels charge over those who sleep.
Tend to your sick ones, O Lord Christ.
Rest your weary ones.
Bless your dying ones.
Soothe your suffering ones.
Pity your afflicted ones.
Shield your joyous ones.
And for all your love's sake,
Amen.
Chapter 7: Family Matters
As parents we knew we had to shepherd the entire flock. Right now Kevin was the lost sheep and was getting the lion’s share of our attention. But any one of the children could wander under such dire circumstances. September was right around the corner and we needed to try and return to our “normal” lives, if such a thing were possible. School was about to begin, so we attempted to again participate in the traditions that our family had grown accustomed to, but this time without Kevin. It was comforting that our children started to contribute to Caringbridge. We felt that we might be able to keep our finger on the pulse as long we continued to meet each day as a family, and communicate our thoughts and feelings.
Friday, August 28, 2009 6:45 PM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
I missed you last night. Dylan, Daddy and I went into the city and Aunt Denice stayed with you. I really hate being away from you, even if it’s for only a few hours, but I know you would have wanted us to go. Dylan was looking forward all summer to a trip into New York City for his birthday. We couldn't do it in on his birthday in May because we were so busy. You know how important family traditions are, and I know if you were awake you would have said, "Mom, you should go". So we did, and I am glad. Daddy got tickets last minute to the Lion King! We paid full price and we almost never do that. Lion King was the show that Dylan had wanted to see and it all worked out.
Remember when we went in to the city in June for your birthday? You were so cute. You kept asking us when we planned to go into the city together, and you had in your head all the favorite things you wanted to do while we were there. Remember we went to Ellen's Starlight Diner? I was so surprised that you allowed me to take your picture with the pretty waitress when she sat next to you to sing! Thank you for that. It was such a wonderful time with just you, Daddy and me.
Tonight, our whole family is with you at Kessler; Dad, Dylan, Megan, Jenny and me. We took you into the large TV room and all sat around a large table. It was nice to have a table for six once again. Kev, we miss you so much! Come back to us soon. – Love you lots, Mom
Sunday, August 30, 2009 9:59 PM
Heey Kev – It’s Megan
Mom fell asleep and was really tired so I'm writing the entry tonight. You did good today. I could tell you were tired, since you weren't moving around like you usually do. You're usually either twitching your eyelashes, or moving your leg around, or squeezing your hand.
Jessie our dog came today! We got you in your wheel chair and you went outside. Jessie licked your hand. You should have seen her when she saw you. She was going crazy and jumping all over the place. We had to keep her on a tight leash. I could tell she misses you. Whenever I go into your room when I can't be with you at the hospital (Hope you don't mind=]) she follows me. She will sniff around for a few minutes and then just lay beside your bed. Sometimes I find her in there without me. She really loves you. You would always tell me how she is your puppy and no one else's - haha.
I had two dreams that u woke up. In one u were in a coma and all of a sudden you woke up and stood up like nothing ever happened. That day will be the happiest day of my life. The other dream was that I went to look for you in your room and I can see you standing there with only a cast on your leg just moving around your room. You were acting like nothing ever happened. I came up to give you a huge hug and tell you how much I missed you. You had a confused look on your face. You didn't really know what was going on, but you just smiled at me with that huge white smile you have. I miss that smile. I'll get to see it soon though. I love you Kev and I'll see you tomorrow. You’re the best <3
Wednesday, September 2, 2009 7:24 PM
Hi Kev – It’s Jenny
Today they said you did very good in therapy. A couple days ago we brought Jesse to Kessler and put peanut butter on your leg. Jesse took it right off your leg. You reacted to her touching you and you twitched your eye a bit. You also sneezed for the very first time. It has been good for the last couple of days because you have been coughing less and swallowing more. You’re getting better and better each day. When you wake up we have to take you for Pete and Eldas Pizza. They make the best pizza. It takes 40 minutes to cook but it’s definitely worth the wait. Love you Kev :) Jenny
Tuesday, September 8, 2009 6:38 PM
Yo. Waddup Bromo – It’s Dylan
My first day back at CBA was today. I remember when you used to drive Rob A. and me to school. I asked you why everyone rolled their sleeves up and if it was the "cool thing to do" in the kind of corny way that I ask. I still have the lamp from when we were younger and we shared a room. It says, "Kevin + Dylan" in your handwriting, which was never as good as mine. When I broke my right arm and had to write with my left you comforted me by saying that my left hand writing was still better than your right hand. During your injury I'm finding out more and more about you and I grow in admiration of you every day.
With you not here, things we used to do day to day, get stranger and stranger, such as reserving for five if we go out to dinner, or scooching down a little bit less when we get in the church pew. I think about some of the last encounters we had like when Rob L., you and me went to the dinner to eat at 2am. I remember you were on the couch in the Poconos where I last said goodbye to you. I can't wait to do our regular shenanigans with you when you awake. – Dylan
Chapter 8: Coincidences?
Strange things were happing to us during our time at Kessler. I felt it was my job to discern which messages were meaningful and which were noise. I didn’t want superstition to take over, but I also didn’t want to miss any of God’s messages. The coincidences were uncanny. It seemed as though everyone was connected in some mysterious way, a spiritual communion, and that with every obstacle a solution would be presented if we remained patient and faithful. There was a phrase from a book that we would hear over and over again. There are no coincidences only God-incidences. Sometimes it was a passage from scripture that would jump off the page, or words from a song that were meant for our ears at exactly that moment. Sometimes it was a friend reaching out with the answer to what seemed to be an unsolvable problem. And sometimes it was God hitting us upside the head when we weren’t listening.
Monday, August 31, 2009 11:27 PM
Hey Kev - It's Dad
I left your room at about 10pm tonight. I handed off the baton to mom. Your vital signs were all good when I left. You had a tough day today. It's a delicate balance. We want to stimulate your brain, but sometimes you will cough a lot and then vomit. That chain is hard to break and then therapy is less productive.
I think we're all waiting for a big miracle, but I'm starting to believe that our journey is a series of small miracles. Many have happened already in the opening of hearts and minds. I remember sometimes walking by your room at home when you were in high school and knocking on your door. You would be in your room on your knees praying. You have always been close to God. It's a gift.
Kev, last night I came home from Kessler very tired. I hit the pillow like a ton of bricks. I felt like things weren't moving fast enough. Why weren't you waking up yet? The Health Channel was on. I don't usually watch that channel. I was half asleep and I heard the announcer say "Man comes out of coma after 19 years." I thought I was dreaming. The show played several times throughout the night and I recorded it on the DVR. The patient was from Tennessee and his mother took care of him for 19 years and never gave up. She spoke with him frequently and included him in weekend activities. After 19 years he suddenly started to speak. That's a higher-level brain function so normally people don't go from a vegetative or minimally conscious state to speaking. He was flown to the JFK Traumatic Brain Injury Center in Edison NJ (just a couple of miles from where I work!) They wanted to better understand how this miracle had happened. The doctor's assessment of why the patient “woke up” was the loving care that his mother provided for 19 years. Her love nursed him back to life. You have plenty of that. I think the message is that we need to be patient. – Love You, Dad
Sunday, September 6, 2009 10:37 PM
Hey Kev - It's Dad,
I wanted to thank you for this morning. It was such a beautiful day I wanted to get you outside in the worst way. You were running a low-grade fever and you were coughing a bit so I wasn't sure it was a good idea, but I decided to go for it. You were amazing. I could see your mood change once you were outside in the sun and the breeze. You didn't cough once and your body temperature started to go down. You looked so peaceful.
All of a sudden it became clear to me why so many people are drawn to you. You have a peaceful spirit. You don't really like to talk a lot and never liked to draw attention to yourself, but it's just very peaceful to be around you. You never judge anyone and you are a very good listener like your mom. Many of your friends miss that peaceful spirit. Maybe they just need to spend some one on one time with you out in the courtyard at Kessler on sunny day. While your body isn't functioning the same right now your spirit hasn't change one bit. Thanks for being there for me. It helped a lot.
I went to mass at Aunt Denice's Church this morning at 7:30. I loved the first reading from Isaiah:
Be strong, fear not!
Here is your God.
He comes with vindication;
With divine recompense
He comes to save you.
Then will the eyes of the blind be opened,
The ears of the deaf be cleared;
Then will the lame leap like a stag,
Then the tongue of the dumb will sing.
And Mark's reading said "Ephphatha" that is be opened or to open one’s eyes and ears. Coincidence? I don’t think so, all in good time. See you tomorrow. – Love, Dad
Monday, September 14, 2009 3:06 PM
Kevin – It’s Mom,
Last night Dylan had a religion assignment where he had to ask another person to interpret of the lyrics of a song. The name of the song was "Wait and See" by Brendon Heath. The chorus is:
"There is hope for me yet,
Because God, won't forget
All the plans he's made for me
I'll have to wait and see.
He's not finished with me yet"
Prophetic, isn't it? As part of the assignment Dylan needed to have a family member or friend interpret these lines so he asked Dad. This is what Dad wrote.
"My son Dylan asked me to comment on a song “Wait and See” as part of a school assignment. My older son Kevin is in a coma from a skateboarding accident. Like many things that have been happening to us lately the chorus to song “Wait and See” is eerie and hits close to home. While Kevin was never any trouble as the character in the song, Kevin is experiencing the chorus to the song every day in the most profound way. Kevin had many plans. Several months ago he finished his first year at Villanova. He was planning a trip this fall to help with an engineering project in a poor area of South America. He had plans to do internships and snowboarding trips, community service and basketball games. We are learning that those were not God’s plans. He had something very different planned for Kevin. As a family I really don’t think we are angry or feel like God is punishing anyone. As the song says “There is Hope.” “God won’t forget us.” He has a plan for Kevin. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
I especially like the lines at the end of the song.
"I'm not here for nothing
He's up to something"
So Kevin, you are not where you are for nothing. God is up to something! All we need to do is hold on tight and trust in His will. – Love you Kevin , Mom
Kevin gave Joan and me a present, a CD of songs he thought we would like. I have listened to these songs again and again, and each time they bring chills down my spine. There are re-occurring themes in each of these songs, near death experiences, hope, heaven, and “everything’s going to be all right.”
Friday, September 18, 2009 10:44 PM
Kev - It's Dad
We both really love music. One of your most special gifts was the CD you gave me last spring with music you thought I might like. You hit the nail right on the head and I listen to that CD all the time.
My choice of music was getting stale, but you brought the passion back and your taste in music says a lot about who you are as a person. I can't wait to share some new tunes with you soon. I love you – Dad
The messages were haunting to us. Each time I listened to Kevin’s compilation I heard something new. Here is one example of a song from Kevin that touched us deeply.
“Comatose – Eagle Eye Cherry”
With pride and disdain, I'm gonna ignore this pain
When someone falls, you're supposed to get up again
I try to oblige but I can't tonight
I'm going to be all right, all right
Within the arms of slumber
I'm leaving it all behind
Comatose gone under
Like all the other times
Another eerie experience came when I first went to drive Kevin’s truck after the accident. He had a CD from Apples in Stereo queued and ready to play a song called “Joanie Don’t You Worry”. The song has just four lines. I don’t need to remind you that Kevin’s mother’s name is Joan. You can’t make this stuff up.
“Joanie Don’t You Worry – Apples in Stereo”
Joanie, don’t you worry,
There is so much you have yet to see,
Joanie, don’t you worry
There is so much you have yet to be.
It wasn’t just scripture and lyrics that kept our heads spinning. Just weeks before Kevin’s accident, I discovered that a longtime friend had suffered a serious brain injury. Months later he joined Kevin at Kessler and our families were united in one of life’s strongest bonds, common suffering. People entered and left our lives during that time as if there was some grand orchestration of the whole sequence of event, and of course, there was although it took me some time to truly believe.
Thursday, October 1, 2009 10:12 PM
Hi Kev - It's Dad
Kev - you have a new neighbor. It's hard to imagine this, but a good friend of mine from work named Steve has a room just two doors down from your room at Kessler. I worked with Steve for about twenty years, and he has children about the same ages as you, Dylan and Megan. You probably met them at a one of the company Christmas parties. Steve also had a very serious brain injury around Father’s Day and you guys have the same doctor. We are so glad that Steve is at Kessler for rehabilitation and we pray for his recovery. I ask everyone that reads Caringbridge and is praying for you to also pray for my friend Steve.
Good night, sweet dreams – Dad
Thursday, October 8, 2009 10:51 PM
Hi Kev - Dad again,
This morning I went to your high school, Christian Brothers Academy, for the early morning mass and the Gospel reading was the "Power of Prayer" reading from Matthew. How APPROPRIATE is that. I wanted to quote the reading tonight and I just entered in "Ask and you shall receive" into Google and it gave me Matthew 7:7
Ask and you shall receive
Seek and you will find
Knock, and it will be opened to you
The one who seeks, finds
The one who knocks, enters
Would one of you hand his son a stone
When he asks for a loaf?
Or a poisonous snake
When he asks for a fish?
If you with all your sins,
Know how to give your children what is good.
How much more will your heavenly Father,
Give good things to anyone who asks him.
Love you Kev – Dad
Chapter 9: Time for Reflection
For the next two months Kevin’s physical condition continued to improve, yet he was not regaining consciousness as we had hoped. Our communications to him were more personal and reflective. My wife and I began to share aspects of Kevin’s character that make him such a unique individual. Our circle of family and friends were quite surprised that this unassuming, personable young man had a host of inspiring qualities that remained hidden from so many people that were acquainted with him. Joan and I wanted them to get to know the Kevin we knew and so we shared freely.
Thursday, September 10, 2009 7:49 PM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
I guess I should tell you a little bit about your accident and how we got to this day. They say that victims of brain traumas most often do not remember anything about their accidents. So, here goes. This is only from my perspective. You'll need to piece the rest of it together when you talk to others.
Luckily, Megan and I were home from Monday through Wednesday that week because Megan had cheer camp. Remember on that Monday, you and I went shopping for clothes for college? I would have bought you anything, especially since you ask for so little. But you only got a pair of shoes and a couple of shirts. After the accident, your friends made you a collage and many of the pictures in it were of you wearing one of those shirts, the white one with all the bright colors.
I last saw you on Wednesday when you gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye. Then, on one of my many trips back into the house because I forgot one thing or another, you said, "You're still here?" Then you gave me another hug. I thank God for small blessings. Now when I need it most I realize the importance of getting that extra hug.
My last communication with you was your text "Love you too". I know exactly how you said it because for a year now I have been locking text messages from you kids. After the accident we were checking your phone and I found out that you locked many messages from me as well. I love your sentimental nature. It’s beautiful. Especially since it may not be "cool" for a guy to be sensitive, but you always marched to your own drum.
That Thursday was your last day of work. You had two weeks to "chillax" as your friends would say. On Friday morning, you had an extra 15 minutes before Robert and Alex came over. You guys were going to a movie. You took your skateboard up our block and were coasting back toward home. You must have hit some debris on the road that was there after a recent storm. You fell hard. Luckily, one of the neighbors was in his driveway and called 911. Your good friend Eric had his EMT pager on and heard the address of the 911 call, right outside his house! He got to you quickly and stabilized you before the ambulance got there. Ironically, your old friend Brian was the ambulance driver!
Then I got the call that no mother or father ever wants to get. Jenny and I were getting our nails done. I ran out of the salon. Luckily, Jenny (who could run our house) grabbed all our stuff including my shoes. I called Mrs. Howe and she went to the Community Center to pick up Dylan and Megan who were working. We started the longest and most difficult drive of my life. The kids were great. They kept saying you were going to be ok. That was what I wanted to believe but I knew in my heart something was wrong, terribly wrong. All we knew was that you were still unconscious. We had no idea of the extent of your accident.
Daddy got to the hospital right away. They took a CAT scan and immediately operated to reduce some of the swelling. When I got to the hospital, the doctor told us you had suffered devastating damage to your brain stem. That is the worst place in the brain to have damage. He showed us the CAT scan, but I wasn’t hearing his words. They gave us a very grim diagnosis. We asked if there was anything, anything they could do. They agreed to remove the front part of your skull so that the swelling wouldn’t do any further damage. Unfortunately, the initial damage was already very significant. The second surgery took over two very long hours. We sat, we cried and we prayed. Father John was there as well as many other people who had heard you had an accident. You came out of surgery and we went to see you. Seeing you all hooked up with so many tubes was difficult. But you were here. I kept thanking God that you were still here with us.
I remember that Saturday night when the doctor wanted to make sure we understood the severity of your injuries. He said there was very little hope and that the best case would be a vegetative state. I hate that word. They really need to come up with a better term. I am so thankful for Aunt Margaret being there when we heard the diagnosis and for standing behind me to support me both physically and emotionally as I began to comprehend the extent of your injury. I'll always be thankful to her for that. The doctor left and the nurse came in. All I could ask was “Can I sleep with him?” The nurse simply moved you over and I climbed up on your bed. Before she left, she said, “If I was in your situation, I would do the exactly same thing”. I put my head on your chest and could feel the rhythm of your heart still beating. A beating heart means there is life. From my heart to yours Kevin, I will always love you and you will always be close in my heart.
But that was then, and this is now. They didn’t think you would survive until now – but you did. They didn’t think you would get off the ventilator – but you did. They didn’t think you would have responsive movements – but you do. So you hang in there Kevin Michael Kret. We are all here praying for you! You may not be able to hear us and you may not be able to see us, but I believe you can feel our presence, and by the grace of God, I believe that someday you will be able to have these entries read to you, or better yet, read them for yourself!
God loves you Kevin. He will guide us through and keep us strong. And He will keep you safe while you sleep.
Friday, September 11, 2009 7:07 PM
Hi Kev - It's Dad again,
I just read Mom's entry from yesterday. Wow - no words. On 7/31/2009 our lives changed forever. Today is 9/11. The TV just visited the 9/11 Memorial several blocks from our home at the Middletown train station. I often walk through the memorial and I remember thinking I can't imagine what the families of 9/11 victims went through. Although our situations are very different I think I understand a little better now. I ask everyone to pray for the families of 9/11.
Caringbridge has been a Godsend. We read every entry and it helps us get through the day. To date there are over 1,000 guest entries and 35,000 visits. We wish we could thank everyone who has contributed personally, but be assured that every message is a treasure. We ask everyone to keep that positive energy coming. – Love you Kev, Dad
Chapter 10: Searching for Answers
They say there are three eternals; Faith, Hope, and Love. While not typically the topics of everyday conversation the three eternals now dominated our conversations. Our family and the extended community looked for meaning in this tragedy and only Faith, Hope and Love could provide the answers we so desperately needed.
Sunday, September 20, 2009 2:12 PM
Hey Kevin – It’s Mom,
I was just thinking I don't know how people get through difficulties in their life without faith. Without it, we would not be equipped to fight the good fight. God provides us with everything we need to succeed. With Him, every day is a new day with new hope. I thank God for our belief in His goodness, mercy and grace.
I guess you could say we have been "church hopping" lately based on where we are on a given Sunday, but last night we got to the 5:30 Mass at Saint Leos. I cannot tell you how comforting it was for me to be there. As I looked around at all the families I recognized, and it gave me an incredibly warm feeling to be part of a wonderful community of believers. OK, I did cry. Not a bad cry, but a good cry from feeling joy and a sense of peacefulness and belonging. So dig your heels in Kevin, stay strong and keep up the faith!
Kevin, you seem to be more and more aware these days. I can't verbalize it and I can't honestly say I see it, but you are getting your spirit and energy back. Consciousness is within your reach! We are hoping, believing and expecting it. You have a strong spirit, one that continues to move forward, even when the odds are against you. Nothing is impossible with God Kevin. Nothing! I love you Kevin, very much – Mom
We tried everything possible to stay connected with Kevin in the past and Kevin in the present. We talked about favorite memories, read journal entries, and posted pictures everywhere. We kept Kevin up to date on current events and the day to day activities going on at home. What we couldn’t do was think about was the future. When you’re counting on a miracle you really don’t want to entertain all the probable future outcomes. When either Joan or I fell into the trap of looking too far past tomorrow we would have to remind ourselves, “Don’t go there”.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009 9:59 PM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
You had a good night's sleep last night. Thanks for giving me a turn at sleeping too - haha. As usual, around 3:00am, your temp started rising. By morning you had a legit fever. You get Tylenol and once you are in your wheelchair, your temp goes down. The blood work and urine analysis have come back with no signs of infection so they call it a central (or brain fever) rather than an infectious fever.
All day on Sunday Grandma and Jenny hung out with you. At night, Dylan, Megan and I took turns reading your journal from when you were young. We made it up to when you were in the third grade. The kids are mentioned a lot in your journal so at times it was hard to read. Like when you were nervous about Dylan riding the bus alone when you got off at your friend Chris's house, and when you were sad that he could not test for yellow belt and you could. You referred to Dylan as your hero in a class assignment and once when you were watching TV with Megan, you said you liked just spending time with just her since most of your attention was usually spent on Jenny, your "little cutie".
Yesterday, Daddy and I went to Jenny's soccer game and Megan cheered at her first high school football game. We got to see half of each. You would be proud of your sisters. I opened your eyes and showed you the video. Do you remember? Sometimes when we open your eyes it seems that you really can see.
You look so perfect sitting there. It is hard to understand why you can't do the simplest of things. We are finding out that the brain is important, intricate and mysterious! It is unique to each individual so outcomes from traumatic brain injuries are unpredictable. Your injury seems to be very unique. We believe you have moved from a coma to the next stage since you seem to have sleep/wake cycles. However, it is difficult to determine since you have not opened your eyes. We think there is nerve damage and that is why you can't actually open them, so many questions and so few answers. There are times when it seems as if you are awake and can hear us talking to you. Last night Daddy opened your eyes and kept saying 'I Love you'. You were moving your lips and we have to believe you were saying 'I love you too'.
Good Night Kevin. We love you – Mom
Thursday, September 24, 2009 11:19 PM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
You have been having some very busy days! You have therapy twice a day and now you are being scripted for equipment like a wheelchair, bed, shower chair, etc. It’s all very complicated and precisely fitted specifically for you. I am learning things that I never thought I would need to learn. It’s pretty cool though. Maybe physical therapy would be a good field for Dylan, Megan or Jenny to pursue as they will be seeing a lot of it and will want to learn because of you!
Good News! No, you did not open your eyes. But we do have a tentative date (three weeks out) to replace your skullcap. I can't wait because then we won't have to worry so much and your therapists can be more aggressive. Kevin, it is so easy to get down about your situation, but only if we allow ourselves to go there.
The challenge is that so many things remind us of you. Things you said, things you loved to do, music you liked, shows you enjoyed, places you’ve been with your friends, your room, your truck. These are all good memories to hold on to. It hurts because you may not be able to enjoy them right now, but the challenge is to hold on to the hope that one day you will be able to.
There is a new "normal" that we need to adjust to. Who you are as a person will never change. You are special Kevin and we love you no matter what. I'll end with your Great Grandpa Vigliotta's special saying that has always stayed with me.
"God is Good, God is Love"
That says it all Kevin. God is good to have allowed you to be with us, so that we can shower you with our love that comes from Him. Everything good comes from Him. And you are all good. Remember that – Mom
Sunday, September 27, 2009 8:40 PM
Hi Kev - It's Dad
I just spent the last 24 hours with you. It was wonderful to have one on one time with you. You showered, I played guitar, we watched lots of sports and all of our teams won; Rutgers, USC, Villanova, Giants, Jets and Yankees.
On Friday they had you on a bike in physical therapy. It's pretty cool. They set you up to pedal from your wheel chair. While you are not fully conscious the bike does the pedaling and you go along for the ride, good exercise. If you start to get the hang of it the bike power shuts off and you do the work. How cool is that! No, you didn't power the bike on your own, but that will come. It's like when I taught you how to ride a bike on the cult-de-sac at our first house. I held the back and you counted on me to hold you up. Then like all parents I knew I had to let you go, even though I said I still had you. You fell a few times, but once you could ride on your own we were all ecstatic. I'm sure Mom has it all down in a journal somewhere; probably has it on video as well. We'll watch it when you get home.
I'm learning a lot about the spirit and soul through you. It seems so clear now. I used to confuse the spirit/soul from the brain, but it is very clear to me that the two are very separate. Your brain is just maintaining basic functions right now but your spirit is ever present and very strong. It's not just me that feels the strength of your spirit, but others have related stories that mom and me will save for you when you wake up. Prayer connects with your spirit in a profound way. I'm just starting to understand the power of prayer and how it works. Your spirit is very present in the community that shares this cross with you. It's on fire. We can all feel your spirit each and every day. – I love you, Dad
Chapter 11: Condition in Transition
For two months Kevin had been living with his brain literally exposed. We were in constant fear that someone or something would inadvertently press against the exposed area of his brain doing irreparable damage. It had come time to replace Kevin’s skullcap. His skull bone had been sitting in a refrigerator at the Jersey Shore Medical Center for nearly two months. I’m a worrier and my wife is not. I would much rather be her, but that’s not possible. I had a phobia, or maybe a rational fear, that Kevin’s skullcap would be damaged or lost. We had friends that were nurses at Jersey Shore Medical Center and I would periodically call them and ask “Is Kevin’s skull still there?” How bizarre is that? Like spoiled milk in the refrigerator I was worried that someone would clean house and discard Kevin’s skull. Now we had a date when the skullcap would be replaced. The doctors told us that sometimes patients see significant improvements when their skulls are reinserted. It was one of those milestones that Joan and I anticipated with great hope.
Thursday, October 1, 2009 10:12 PM
Hi Kev – It's Dad
We have started to plan for the next phase of the journey. We are scheduled to go back to Jersey Shore Medical Center to replace your skullcap on October 14th. They removed a portion of your skull to let you brain swell after the operation and now that the swelling has gone down so it’s time to replace it. Once your skullcap is back in place Mom and I will rest a lot easier. The doctor says you will only be in the hospital for a day or two. Afterwards you won't need the same level of medical care since you have been doing so well with things like coughing, hear rate and temperature. Kessler is an acute rehab facility and we are eternally grateful for the care you have received while at Kessler. There are just so many names of the staff that tended to your every need during your time there. They will live in our hearts forever.
But soon it will be time to move on. We are hoping/praying that we can get you into the sub-acute facility at JFK Hartwyck in Edison, New Jersey. Again this is one of the best in the world for sub-acute traumatic brain injury. We are blessed to have such excellent facilities close to our home. I wrote an entry back in August about the coma documentary that I saw on the Health Channel. It was actually filmed at JFK Hartwyck. I remember thinking to myself that night, "I bet we'll be there someday"
Good night, sweet dreams – Dad
During the beginning of October the staff at Kessler began preparing us for the realities of our healthcare system. Our journey was far from over, but our time in acute therapy at Kessler would soon be coming to an end. While traumatic brain injuries take years to heal, acute therapy rarely lasts longer than several months. We did everything we could to try to extend Kevin’s stay, but unless he regained consciousness we would need to make some decisions. There were really only two options, find a nursing home that specializes in TBI, or bring Kevin home. Joan and I were committed to bringing Kevin home, but needed some time to prepare. The road home was not a straight path, but we never wavered from our ultimate goal.
Bringing home someone that lacks consciousness is not for everyone and only in a very unique situation can a family safely accommodate the transition, and hold the family intact. We were committed to keeping our family under one roof, but it wasn’t going to be easy. It would be a real test of patience and faith.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009 10:57 PM
Hi Kev – It's Dad
Today was special. Both mom and I spent the entire day with you. They put us through boot camp in preparation for when you eventually come home. We learned how to use hoyer lifts, wheel chairs, coughalators, do trache maintenance, execute various stretches, perform oral-care, and get rid of muscle spasms – the list goes on. Most of the time you had your headphones on listening to your favorite tunes, but I sensed that you were more peaceful today.
The transition period is always hard. We know that you will have surgery on October 14th. We hope that you will go to a preferred sub-acute center, but there are no guarantees. This is yet another challenge we need to leave in God's hands. – Love you Kev, Dad
Friday, October 9, 2009 8:18 PM
Hey Kev – Dad here
As of yesterday I didn't know where you will go after your surgery next Wednesday. Unfortunately, according to the standardized Coma Recovery Scale (CRS) you haven't made sufficient progress in acute therapy and it doesn't look like you will be a candidate for sub-acute therapy. Those darn standardized tests. While you always did very well in class, but you never were comfortable with the standardized test; SATs, ACTs, COMA scale. It's all the same.
But I can see the changes. Your fevers are less frequent. Your heart rate is down to below 100 beats per minute most of the day. You moved from swallowing ice chips to a little bit of applesauce.
Today our prayers were answered. We have a new plan. Plans always change, but as of today you will go to Jersey Shore Medical Center to replace your skullcap on Oct 14th. You will return to Kessler to make sure your condition is stable. Then the plan is to go to JFK for sub-acute care. Today they said that you would be a candidate for their program. See, what you do in class does count. Keep up the good work. – Love you, Dad
We anxiously waited for any sign that Kevin was coming back to us. As it turns out intense pain was one of a few things that could consistently get a reaction from Kevin. In the long run, we realized we were very fortunate that pain could produce a response. Imagine if we could not recognize when Kevin was in pain. When he opened his eyes we were ecstatic. It wasn’t until later on that we discovered the root cause, pain.
Monday, October 12, 2009 10:39 PM
Hi Kevin It’s Mom
Today was a great day! First you need to know that it started off with you having a 105 temperature, you threw up and you were having lots of spasms. But then, when they took you down to get an X-ray, the aid said that you opened both of your eyes! It was quick, but long enough for her to tell us that you had beautiful eyes.
So this is like the fifth time that someone has seen you open your eyes. I have seen you open your left eye, ever so slightly for a short time. Then Aunt Rosemarie said you did the same. Then Mrs. A said she saw you briefly open one eye. Then one of the aids said you opened your right eye when she was turning you. Now today when we were told that you opened BOTH of your eyes! Sounds like a trend to me! Connections are being made Kevin, very sporadic but very real. You are trying hard to come back to us. I know you are! We are so proud of your efforts. We know it’s not easy and we don't want to push you but.... Keep trying Kevin. You are doing great! – Love you lots, Mom
Every transition of the journey was anticipated with great anxiety. There was no prior experience to help predict outcomes in the current situation. We were operating in uncharted waters. I am usually pretty good at anticipating potential problems and planning to minimize their impact, but at times it felt like we were in the ocean and getting caught in an undercurrent. Sometimes we had to drift for a while or the current might take us under. Sometimes we just needed to go with flow and pray for the best.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009 10:15 PM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
So tomorrow is a big day for you. Lifestar transport is going to pick you up at 8:00 in the morning to take you to Jersey Shore Medical Center. Your surgery is scheduled for 12:00 noon to replace your skullcap. We'll be storming heaven for you at that time Kevin.
Kevin, we ask God to protect you and keep you safe. I know this is hard for you and sometimes you may want to give up. But remember, we are all here with you on this journey wherever it leads. Trust that "the Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you!"
Sleep safe and see you in the morning – Mom
Wednesday, October 14, 2009 7:04 PM
Hi Kev - It's Dad,
It's hard to describe the last two days. What a roller coaster ride. I'll start with the end. You did great in surgery today and your skullcap has been put back in place. You look marvelous. Your head is still in bandages, but even your face looks more like your old self.
When I went to Kessler yesterday I thought the cards were stacked against us. Your fever spiked pretty high over the weekend and you tested positive for a urinary tract infection. I know, "Dad, too much information." Your white blood cell count was high to boot. Not a pretty picture. But then on Monday and Tuesday you came through like a real champ. You kept your fever down, the UTI cleared and the white blood cell count went back down to normal. We all scrambled to get you cleared for surgery.
I was with you on Tuesday night and I couldn't sleep all night. I kept checking your temperature and watching your heart rate to make sure you would be good to go to surgery. We even got you up at 6am in your chair since you tend to do better when you are sitting up. The ride from Kessler to Jersey Shore was non-eventful and like I said you came through surgery in the clutch.
Kevin - you cannot believe what's going on at our house in support of you. Not only do gourmet meals show up at our doorstep several nights a week, but the house is getting renovated to accommodate you. There's a lift being installed in the garage. The shower is being expanded and Jenny gave up her room (since it's the biggest) to fit the equipment we'll need while you are getting better. Mr. McNamara came and in one day did something I couldn't get done in 10 years; organize our garage. We're all pulling for you. We know that right now you need the best professional care available, but at the same time we can't wait for you to come home.
I called mom to make sure I covered everything and she wanted to remind you to thank everyone for the love and prayers that helped get you through today.
We all love you Kevin – Dad
Thursday, October 15, 2009 10:27 PM
Kev - Dad again,
I just left you about an hour ago. You were resting peacefully back at Kessler. Imagine that, in and out of Jersey Shore Hospital in one day - way to go. The CAT scan came back all clear and the brain fluid drain was removed shortly after. You are ready to get back to therapy tomorrow.
– Love you Kev, Dad
Chapter 12: Nervous Conversation
Somehow we managed to ride out another month at Kessler after Kevin’s skullcap was replaced. It had become a home away from home for us. Kevin and I got to watch football games together. Friends had become accustomed to visiting us at Kessler. My sister lived about two miles from the facility and we knew we could always drop in for a bite to eat or some comforting conversation. The staff at Kessler, especially our case manager, seemed even more concerned about our transition than we did. Maybe we were naïve or maybe we truly believed that God would not abandon us. For the next month we filled our journal entries with the kind of idle conversation that people make when they are nervous and concerned, but don’t want to let on to their anxiety. The progress was not what we, or insurance companies, expected. We would need to face the reality that Kevin would not be one of those cases that emerge into consciousness within and “acceptable” time frame. His recovery would need to be a miracle. It was time to prepare both Kevin and our family for the transition.
Saturday, October 17, 2009 6:24 PM
Hi Kev - It's Dad,
It's a slow Saturday. Rutgers lost by a touch down to Pitt last night. USC beat Notre Dame in a very close game. I can't wait until you are hanging out on our living room couch watching the games with me. I wasn't able to come to Kessler today since I have a cold. Mom is there and she says she has the games on for you, but I have my doubts. She’s probably watching the Lifetime Network.
I remember when I went to USC. I had a serious eye accident in April of my senior year at Rutgers. I had four eye operations between April and September that left me legally blind in my right eye and the cornea in my left eye was deteriorating. I wanted to quit and go home, but after talking to my eye doctor I decided to push forward and go to grad school at USC. Grandma and Grandpa drove the Camaro out to Los Angeles. I couldn't drive for the first three months and my roommate drove me up to class each day. The sun really bothered my eye and of course "It never rains in Southern California". It was a lonely time, but a very rewarding time. I learned to play the guitar. I wrote a song a week back then and I learned a lot about myself. That's where I met your Godfather Rafael. He was a deacon then and about to become a priest.
I expect your journey will be similar. I remember shutting down and shutting out to just get through each day back then. I suppose you are doing the same. If I hadn't taken that journey I am sure I wouldn't have married your mother. I wouldn't have had you and your brother and sisters. We wouldn't be blessed with all the gifts we have today.
I guess I'm telling you that while we are with you always, much of this is up to you. You overcame a significant hurdle this week by getting your skull back. Your vital signs seem more stable as a result. Now you need to make those connections in the brain and fight every day to come back to us. “It’s time to come out of the desert and into the sun”. We'll be waiting for you on the other side. – I love you, Dad
Tuesday, October 20, 2009 7:43 PM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
They capped your trache last night and you would have slept peacefully but they also took out your catheter. You haven't been able use the external catheter yet and your bladder gets very full. I felt bad for you. Hardly any coughing though!
There is a nurse here who refers to you as "the hunk". We were talking and she said she worries so much about her 14 year old daughter, especially when she goes to large theme parks like Great Adventure. I can totally relate. As a parent we traverse a fine line between allowing you guys to do things and having to say no. Never in my wildest nightmare would I have imagined this happening to you. No amount of worry could have prevented it. We don't know what the future holds do we? It is the unknown that worries me Kev.
After your accident I could have very easily found myself not letting Dylan, Megan and Jenny do ANYTHING, and wanting to keep them on a short leash. I hope that my fears do not prevent you all from doing things you want to do. As long as I know you are safe, I need to let go.
I remember when you went on your first high school ski trip. After I dropped you at the bus and drove away, my leg was shaking uncontrollably. I was so nervous that I could not control my body and drive the car! How ridiculous was that I thought to myself. I realized then that I needed to let go and let God take care of you. And that is what I need to do now Kevin. I need to let go and let God take care of you. You are safe in His arms so there is nothing for me to worry about. – Love you Kev, Mom
Thursday, October 22, 2009 10:06 PM
Kevin – It’s Dad
What a day, the sun is shining and you're doing just great. You look like you're yawning and about to wake up. Your mouth opens and your arms stretch wide above your head. I can't wait to see you open those eyes again soon. Your temperature is normal and your heart rate has been in the 80s for several days.
We got your acceptance letter to JFK today. Unfortunately there is no on campus housing available. In this case commuting is not an option. Your lease is just about up at Kessler and the house is not quite ready for you to come home. I used to get all stressed out about these things, but now I just say a prayer and wait for an answer. It's actually pretty cool. – I love you, Dad
Sunday, November 1, 2009 9:16 PM
Kevin - It's Dad
We’re making good progress on the home front. The new shower should be done this week and we hope to have a lift in the garage by next week. We are shopping for a van that can accommodate your wheel chair. We'll get it all done soon so you can come home, at least for day trips while you are getting sub-acute therapy and then for good while you make the connections necessary to communicate with us.
I didn't get to watch the RU football game with you yesterday. They were playing UConn and were up 21-10. They started to play conservatively and with less than 1 minute left they gave up the lead 24-21. I quit on them and turned the TV off in frustration. Then I started watching the TV again about an hour later. I found out that as the game was ending RU completed an 81-yard touchdown pass and won. What were the odds of that happening? I felt like I quit on them. It's just a football game, but it got me thinking that no matter what the odds we can never give up because “We Believe”! – Love you, Dad
As we approached our last days at Kessler the anxiety level was off the charts. Major change is always stressful, but this was like nothing we had ever experienced. We had found a routine at Kessler that allowed us to manage. It was not a sustainable existence, but we were OK. What would the next phase bring? Would Kevin continue to make progress? What about the rest of the family, would they be able to manage? There is only one compass for such times in life – Faith in God.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009 11:01 AM
Hi Kevin – It’s Mom
We have so many decisions to make in the next day or so about where you will be going next after Kessler. You could be moving in just a couple of days! Yesterday, we went for a ride around the parking lot in a handicap accessible van to see how we might accommodate you in a wheelchair. You did really well. Just like old times, you sitting in the car next to me, listening to your iPod.
It reminded me of an email you sent back in April. You said that it choked you up a bit when I told you that God has a special purpose for you. I have to share that email from you to me, just to remind you of that.
"Hola - So I figured that I would e-mail you today since you are always the one who sends me a message first. Today is such an ugly day out. It’s raining and kind of cold. On top of that, I have classes from 8:30-12:30, then an hour break, and then one more class from 1:30-2:30. It was so hard to get up this morning and get to class because I had a rough night sleeping. What gets me through days like this is thinking about how close the summer is and how much fun its gunna be. I hope you enjoyed “24” last night. It was a good one. Don't forget to watch LOST tonight. I know I won’t. I was thinking about how much fun I had Monday hanging out with you and Jenny all day. Let her know that it meant a lot to me. Also tell Dad that his little picture gift thing meant a lot too. It makes me feel good when I see how much he enjoys the music I gave him. Also, I loved that little line you sent in your last e-mail about how u think I have a special purpose from God. It made me choke up a little. So that’s about all for now. I will call you later and see how things are going. I Love You Mom – Kevin."
I love you too Kevin – Mom
Friday, November 6, 2009 10:52 PM
Kev – It’s Dad
It’s time to move on from Kessler. You have done so well there and we can’t thank your caregivers enough. We will be eternally grateful to the people at Kessler. I remember going on college visits with you. We really got close and I’m sure I agitated over the decision much more than you. I wanted to make sure we did all the research and made good decisions for the right reasons. I was so happy when you decided on Villanova. It was the right place for you. Meeting your friends from Villanova over the last several months has confirmed that.
Anyway, I wanted to make sure we found the right place for the next phase of your recovery. After a lot of praying, a bed has opened up for you at the JFK Hartwyck facility in Edison and you will be going there on Tuesday. I drove over today and it’s just 3 miles from my office so I will be there to visit often. I will bring my guitar and play your favorite songs. They have dealt with many cases like yours and have had their fair share of success stories. Like Kessler it’s one of the best Traumatic Brain Injury centers in the country. Some things will be different than what we’re used to. For the last 3 months you have not been alone for more than an hour at a time day and night, but now your health is better. At JFK we will need to say goodnight after we say prayers and make sure you’re comfortable.
One very positive change is that we will be able to bring you home for a day at a time and eventually overnight. Jessie can lick you non-stop while you “chillax” on the recliner. We can’t wait.
I LOVE YOU KEVIN – DAD
Monday, November 9, 2009 9:26 PM
Hi Kev – It’s Mom
Every so often I go into my "Kevin" inbox and pull up one of the emails you sent me. I do this one at a time because I like to be pleasantly reminded of your love, one email at a time. This one is from 4/25/2009.
Hey Mom,
I love getting your e-mails. I feel like i need that kind of update from home or i get "disconnected".
I’m glad Aunt Rosemarie went up with you to Long Island. It seems like she is your "best" friend, like she would do anything for u.
I’m also glad you enjoyed ur visit to grandma and grandpas house. The way u appreciate them is exactly how i appreciate you and dad.
Today is NOVA Fest on campus and Gym Class Heroes is playin. I got tickets. I’m also doin a 5k run at twelve and i don’t know where it is yet. Michael c is commin sometime today too. Im gunna be very busy, but it’s so nice out, less than two weeks till i come home! – Love You, Kevin
You were always so excited about coming home. So now we will work very hard to make that happen. Maybe not in two weeks, but soon!
Tomorrow you will be going to JFK. You have been at Kessler since August 18th and we have come to feel very safe and secure there. Change is hard but we are doing everything we can to give you the best chance possible. You may not understand right now, but you'll need to trust us and most importantly remember to always trust Jesus! Talk to Him Kevin when you get frustrated and He will help you through this.
And yes, I do appreciate Grandma and Grandpa, sooo much! We celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary on Saturday. I wish you could have been there. Kevin, we are thankful for Grandma and Grandpa's love for us and their love for each other for the past 60 years. We are also thankful for our family and all of our "best" friends who have done so much for us, holding us up, guiding us through some tough days and praying for our family during this challenging time in our lives. They are the "best"!
You are the "best" too Kevin. Thank you for your emails. I love reading them and I will treasure each and every one. I am glad I saved them because now, they are saving me. – I Love You, Mom