Emily has been reading (or rather re-reading) a book entitled The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, and one of the comments on the dust jacket reads as follows:

"This story, like all great tales, will break your heart, but it will also make you realize - or remember - that sometimes the pain is worth it."

When I read those words I felt like they might be an appropriate way to end this blog, which has for all intents and purposes come to the end of it's useful life all on its own. All good stories have an ending though, and these few words will be the final page of this tale - this great story that has been full of heartbreak and revelation, of loss and of love, of longing and renewal.

Just a few days ago we passed the one year mark from the date Emily became ill, and I thought that might also be an appropriate time to tie up some loose ends and tell you where things stand in case you were left wondering.

Emily is still transitioning from weekly therapy to full time work. Currently she's working three days a week and going to therapy the other two. One new development, however, is that she's mostly been driving herself to therapy! Within the last few weeks she's begun driving short distances again, and it's made the transition easier all the way around (if only we could just get two cars working at the same time!)

I've been approved for commissioning as a provisional elder in the North Carolina conference of the UMC, and will be receiving my first full-time clergy appointment this summer. As we wait for more certainty in that area Emily hopes to be back to full time work by June when appointments take effect.

Just a few weeks ago I finally tore down the wheelchair ramp on the back of the house and re-built the porch that was there before. It felt good to rip the ramp apart. As grateful as we were to have it, and to have the friends to help us build it, it was good to get things back to normal. And as the old things became new again, I used the rest of the wood to build a dog house for Ruth Ann.

I'm happy to say that that seems to be the theme of this last post - the theme of renewal.

We have learned a great deal over this last year. We have learned to appreciate life, and those we love, more fully than ever before. We have learned the importance of small things, and the sustaining power of hope. We have tested the depths of our faith , and found that we have been renewed in ways that we could never have imagined. This story - though at times it has been heartbreaking - has made us realize that though life can be painful, it is also precious, and delicate and beautiful.

Grace and peace,

Emily and Jim

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog...

I know that if you're still keeping up with this blog, you've enjoyed hearing from Emily more directly over these past weeks.  I thought after she came home it would be easier to keep this thing up - that without all of the shuttling back and forth to the hospital I would somehow have more time to reflect on this whole thing - but as it turns out life is relentless and we've been just as busy as ever.  Now that Emily's back to work for a few half-days each week, and fall has kicked my church schedule back into overdrive it seems like the moments where I get to sit and reflect have been displaced by staff meetings, church councils, fall retreats, sermon writing and the like.

That is why I'm glad to report that just now I had a moment to stop and think.

I just met Jesus on Franklin Street.  Well, more directly I met Kevin, a man who is one of the many homeless residents of Chapel Hill.  

Kevin asked me for some spare change.  I didn't have any spare change because I never carry actual money anymore (and because Emily requisitions all of my quarters for the soda machine at work) and so I was tempted to just walk on by, but I stopped and explained my situation.

"How about a cup of coffee then?" he asked, and he was standing in front of Starbucks.

He had me.  I was on my way to Caribou Coffee to buy some coffee for myself.  How could I not spare an extra cup for this man?  I agreed to buy him a coffee if he agreed to come with me to Caribou (because friends don't let friends drink Starbucks) and he did.  

On the way we had a short, but pleasant conversation, and now both of us have coffee.  What really struck me is that in my interaction with Kevin I had the opportunity, in that Matthew 25 "sheep and goats" sort of way, to see Jesus.  And while Jesus never said "whenever you have given a cup of coffee to one of the least of these you have given it unto me" it was nice to be able to be a means of grace to another human being.

This story is my way of saying thank you to all of you who have supported us over these past months, and who continue to support us.  Each small kindness means the world to us.  It may not seem like a big deal to bring food by our house on a particularly busy day, but it is a moment of grace for us, and we deeply appreciate it.  As things settle back into something that looks a bit more normal, I pray that Emily and I can be means of grace to others half as well as you have been for us.

Prayers and Blessings

Prayer works.

Consider that statement for a moment.

Prayer works.

When a person needs the help of a ventilator to breathe, there comes a time when you have to be weaned off of the vent. I had been on the vent for about a month when my respiratory therapist decided I was ready to try breathing on my own.

My first trial off the vent lasted for 30 minutes. At the end of those 30 minutes, my lungs and all the muscles helping me breathe were completely worn out. It felt like that strange tightness you get in your when you've laughed to hard and you have to gasp for breath.

Two weeks after this first trial, my average hours of breathing unassisted per day hovered around 3. Even though I worked every day at keeping calm, taking slow breaths and ignoring the slow ticking of the clock, I really hadn't made any significant progress towards total freedom from the vent.

Discouragement loomed, compounded by a weekend where I was simply too sick and weak to even attempt any time off the event and I felt like I would never be able to breathe on my own.

That Sunday night, one of my regular night nurses, Mini, asked if she could pray with me. After dispensing my meds, she closed the door, took my hand and began praying aloud. Mini asked God for complete healing and for strength so that I could breathe on my own. Her prayer was simple and direct, and left me feeling more hopeful than I had in days.

On Monday, I stayed off the vent for 5 hours. Tuesday, I increased my time to 8. From there, I kept building each day, until Thursday I stayed off the vent for 24 hours. To go from a place of total weakness and dependence to a place of freedom and strength in less than a week was nothing short of a miracle -- a direct result, I believe, of Mini's prayer and the prayers of my family and friends.

That progress has continued by leaps and bounds. I went back to work this week part-time exactly six months after Jim and I went to the ER. That kind of recovery simply doesn't happen without faithful people praying for strength and healing.

I look forward to continued progress and to the complete healing that has been prayed for by so many of you. I feel like the paralytic man whose friends lowered him down through the roof so that he could be healed by Jesus. I can only praise God for the dedication of my family and friends and for His blessings!

Hodge Podge

Hello again, everyone. I don't have one thing to write about today, but several things to catch you up on. I've also included a couple of pictures. The first one is Jim and me (yes, that's grammatically correct even though it sounds weird, I wish they'd change the rule already) modeling this year's youth group t-shirt.

The second is me trying to act natural while Jim takes a picture of me standing up. Of course you can see by the sheer awkwardness of the picture that I failed miserably at acting like I wasn't in front of a camera. I only added it here so you could see me standing up. I wanted to give a preview so that no one would be overwhelmed by the sheer awesomeness that is me and my walker (which you can see in the bottom left corner).

Over the past two Sundays, I've been wowing all of our church friends with my impressive walking skills. It's been about two months since I came home from the hospital, and in that time I feel like I've become a completely different person. I'm using the walker more and more now, and with Jim's help I'm using our front steps to get in and out of our house.

Aquatic therapy went really well on Thursday. I had to walk forwards, backwards and sideways across the pool. I also had to do different leg exercises, like hamstring curls, kicks and heel raises. The therapist (who spends about 32 hours a week in the pool) said water offers 12 times more resistance that dry land. I definitely believe her, because I was really wiped out when I got out of the pool!

Not this Monday, but next Monday I start back to work part-time. My company is being really great and allowing me to come in for two half-days a week. I'll only be working a total of 7 hours, but I'm so excited to get back to my desk. Mostly because I bought a box of SweetTarts a couple of days before I got sick, and I want to see if they're still good. I also have a Page-a-Day calendar that's probably still showing March.

Okay, so I'm only partially kidding about the SweetTarts, but it will be nice to get back into a normal routine. I can't wait for people to ask me if the coffee is fresh and if I brought the cookies. I also can't wait to complain about my computer being slow and ask my cubicle mate if it's five o'clock (or, in my case, 12:30) yet.

I'm also very excited to announce that Jim will be preaching on Sunday, Sept. 27 at both the early and late services. Everyone is invited out to hear this rising superstar in the Methodist church. There's no word on what he'll be speaking about, but I'll keep you posted as things develop!

More Walking and a Little Fishing

Today I left the wheelchair in the trunk of the car and just used my walker at church. I felt pretty confident that I could get around with out too much trouble, but I definitely over did it distance-wise. My ankles, knees, hips and back are protesting, and I'm sure it will be worse tomorrow.

A few people have asked me if I have any pain when standing or walking. In case you're wondering, but are too nice to ask, the answer is no, not really. My feet are still pretty numb, so when I stand up I can feel pressure in my heels but not in my toes. It's a very strange feeling, and it makes it hard to balance or tell where my feet are in space.

Getting around in the walker is definitely a sign of progress, and this week my therapist had me do a walking test to see how fast I am in relation to scientifically established averages. I had to stand up, walk 10 feet, turn around, walk back and then sit down. This took me about 50 seconds. The average person can do this in about 10 seconds. So I'm currently five times slower than you.

Even though I was worn out from my exciting morning, Jim and I took the wheelchair off-road to go fishing at our friend John's house. Well, Jim tried to do some fishing, but Ruth Ann had other ideas. Jim let her off leash, and she had the most wonderful time running around with the neighbor's dog. She also discovered how to dog paddle and how to jump in the water and retrieve. I had a great time sitting by the lake, enjoying the beautiful view and watching Ruthie splash around.

This week I start aquatic therapy! In addition to my regular PT, I'll be adding one session a week in the pool. It's nice because you can work on stretching, strength training and endurance all at once.

33 Meters, or How I Learned to Walk Again

On Thursday, I walked approximately 33 meters in PT. The route started at the parallel bars, went all the way down the length of the gym, turned at the front entrance and concluded at the parallel bars. 33 meters -- despite a switch from floor tiles to carpet and back, and the one wheel on the rolling walker that just didn't understand it was supposed to roll in unison with the other one.

My therapists are truly great at what they do and have managed to challenge me while at the same time respecting my limitations. That balance of work and rest is not an easy one to find. My condition has been frustrating in many ways, but currently the biggest obstacle I'm facing is fatigue. I can feel really great one day and totally just-ran-a-marathon drained the next. Sometimes it's because I've pushed myself too hard, but other times there's really no way to account for why I don't have any energy.

My therapists understood from the beginning that while total independence was my personal goal, strength and flexibility had to come before I could try to stand or even take my first (wobbly) step. To get me where I wanted to be, my therapists started me out with tiny leg movements where they did most of the work. This gradually led to complex tasks that involved more than one muscle group where I had to do all the work.

I'd like to think that from this experience I know more than the average person about physical rehabilitation and therapy. But in all honesty, I probably don't know that much. What I do know is that if I hadn't had such caring and compassionate therapists working with me, I wouldn't have been able to make it this far this fast.

And speaking of how far I've come, my doctor has given me clearance to start working part-time on Sept. 21. I don't know if the 21st will be my official first day -- I still have to work out all the details. However, the date that my doctor randomly picked just happens to be exactly six months from when I went to the ER at Duke. Ain't that somethin' else?

21 Feet

Emily here -- with some good news. Today in physical therapy, I walked for 21 feet using a walker and with the aid of my therapist. About 10 steps into my walk, I asked if they could get Jim so he could see. Once I finished, everyone in the gym clapped and I felt like a conquering hero.

When I can go 50 feet on my own without collapsing unexpectedly or being overly tired, I can graduate to the walker. It'll be nice to have a little bit more freedom, although I will most likely have to continue to use the wheelchair for longer distances.

I haven't walked any real distance since being admitted to the hospital in March, so 21 feet is a small, but thrilling triumph.

Stay tuned for more updates!