Tonight's Affirmation: Prayers Work. We need them. Do. Not. Stop.
Tonight's nurse is a bit salty, and not in a good, potato chips way. She's direct, but her compassion skills are less than desirable. Good thing there are not comment cards here. My pen would be on FIRE.
We got a touch of questionable news tonight, but we can't take it seriously until morning. Nothing to report, because nothing is confirmed. Thanks to Mom's friend Dr. Andy (last name withheld) for setting me straight on some facts. What it's really done is give Mom and I the strength to stand up and fight for our right to know. We will meet with a neurosurgeon first thing in the morning, if I have to tackle him linebacker style in the hallway.
Tomorrow is Sunday, the understood day of faith in the Christian community. Put Dad's name on every prayer list you can get your hands on. Twice if they'll let you. Once you've hit your own church, drive up to another one and put him there. He needs all of them, despite our little victories throughout this week.
Dad, Mom and I are all fighters, and we will prove it this weekend. Make no mistake: he WILL wake up, he WILL recognize our faces, and he WILL walk out of here.
I will never stop believing that.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Saturday, 11/14, 9:59 am
Mom and I are back in Dad's room again, with the wheeze of the respirator as a gentle reminder he's still with us. It's wonderful.
It's not often that we're both back here- we've been living in the Family Waiting area at the front of the wing since we arrived. As far as hospitals go, it's pretty comfortable. There are reclining chairs that lay flat for sleeping, with mandatory quiet/dark hours from 10:30pm-6:00am. We've set up camp in 2 of the chairs, blankets and snacks in tow, and take turns answering phone calls, retuning missed ones, and going back to Dad's room to bug nurses and ask way too many questions.
Dad's holding steady. He had a bit of a temperature last night, but he had a long day. They administered Tylenol in a place I won't mention, and now he's back to normal.
Today's the day he'll begin to be fed through the stomach tube they added yesterday. Poor thing hasn't had anything nourishment since he's been here. I fully expect to see a little spring in his proverbial step once he gets some grub.
He also got another bath, so he's got that new dad smell. They've been able to prop him up a bit, and like magic the swelling in both eyes is reducing. He looks more like himself than he has all week. Even the nurses who treated him earlier this week mentioned the improvements.
Today's also a day of rest for him. We're watching his vitals like hawks, and still everything is either stable or with slight improvements. Never in my life did I think I'd do a happy dance for increased urine production, but here we are.
Every nurse we've had has been incredible, but today's assignment is one with whom we have a special connection. Mikal has literally been where we are: her former husband also had a motorcycle accident, complete with head trauma. She was actually on the scene before the EMTs. We've had a few great conversations about dad's progress (she's impressed), and she's sympathetic but gives us realistic expectations.
Once the feeding begins, I'm sure there will be more to report. For now he's rocking steady, and for that we're truly grateful.
It's not often that we're both back here- we've been living in the Family Waiting area at the front of the wing since we arrived. As far as hospitals go, it's pretty comfortable. There are reclining chairs that lay flat for sleeping, with mandatory quiet/dark hours from 10:30pm-6:00am. We've set up camp in 2 of the chairs, blankets and snacks in tow, and take turns answering phone calls, retuning missed ones, and going back to Dad's room to bug nurses and ask way too many questions.
Dad's holding steady. He had a bit of a temperature last night, but he had a long day. They administered Tylenol in a place I won't mention, and now he's back to normal.
Today's the day he'll begin to be fed through the stomach tube they added yesterday. Poor thing hasn't had anything nourishment since he's been here. I fully expect to see a little spring in his proverbial step once he gets some grub.
He also got another bath, so he's got that new dad smell. They've been able to prop him up a bit, and like magic the swelling in both eyes is reducing. He looks more like himself than he has all week. Even the nurses who treated him earlier this week mentioned the improvements.
Today's also a day of rest for him. We're watching his vitals like hawks, and still everything is either stable or with slight improvements. Never in my life did I think I'd do a happy dance for increased urine production, but here we are.
Every nurse we've had has been incredible, but today's assignment is one with whom we have a special connection. Mikal has literally been where we are: her former husband also had a motorcycle accident, complete with head trauma. She was actually on the scene before the EMTs. We've had a few great conversations about dad's progress (she's impressed), and she's sympathetic but gives us realistic expectations.
Once the feeding begins, I'm sure there will be more to report. For now he's rocking steady, and for that we're truly grateful.
After midnight...
Mom and I just finished setting up the blog. The only sounds are the whirr of the fan keeping Dad cool and the click-wheeze of his respirator. It's a welcoming symphony.
The nurses in this unit are absolutely incredible. We've been incredibly lucky; not a bad one in the bunch. Since Dad's been allowed to sit up (well, not REALLY sit up- We inclined his bed- He'll do it on his own in due time), the pressure and swelling in his eyes and face is going down dramatically. He looks less like Rocky at, well, the end of EVERY Rocky movie, and a little more like that guy I grew up with. Awesome.
Pass this along to anyone who's concerned about Tim, knowing that this will contain the most up-to-date info as we have it. If you feel so moved, leave him a not in the comment section. When he wakes up, he'll be glad to know you stopped by.
The nurses in this unit are absolutely incredible. We've been incredibly lucky; not a bad one in the bunch. Since Dad's been allowed to sit up (well, not REALLY sit up- We inclined his bed- He'll do it on his own in due time), the pressure and swelling in his eyes and face is going down dramatically. He looks less like Rocky at, well, the end of EVERY Rocky movie, and a little more like that guy I grew up with. Awesome.
Pass this along to anyone who's concerned about Tim, knowing that this will contain the most up-to-date info as we have it. If you feel so moved, leave him a not in the comment section. When he wakes up, he'll be glad to know you stopped by.
Friday: Daddy's pretty face
Boy, you take the esophageal respirator out of a guy and let him sit upright, and he looks GOOD!
FB: Fri, 9:32 am:
Dad update: surgery done. All levels are lower, but some of that's good (bp, for example). He's heavily sedated, probably not responsive for a bit. Now we wait.
FB: Fri, 12;20 pm:
Dad update: well that wait wasn't long. He started flinching 90 minutes after surgery. Surprising, but great. All is calm and stable for now. CT scans of head and chest right now to check fractures and hematomas
EMAIL: Fri, 1:04 pm:
Last night/this morning have brought a few changes. Nothing negative. I mentioned yesterday that his sedation was removed to see where his reflex/brain activity was and he moved all 4 limbs. I was in his room last night right before midnight and he did is again...ON his sedatives. Slow kicks, lost of motion in the right arm, mouth and nose flinches, back shifting. It was beautiful. The respirator tech says it's because he heard my voice, but something tells me it had much more to do with the loud metal notebook that she dropped which probably scared the living daylights out of him.
Mom and I went back again right before 6 am to wish him luck on his procedure. All his levels were relatively calm. His newest night nurse, Jessica, is AMAZING. She spent almost an hour with me explaining each of the machines, what they measure and what are good and bad readings. I feel more prepared. We're hoping to have her back again tonight.
The procedure went as well as it possibly could. The trach respirator and feeding tube are in, which leaves his mouth and lower half of his face free from pressure. He looks better already. Well, as good as you can look after multiple face fractures and brain trauma. But trust me...better.
There is a possible hematoma on his lung that the doctor mentioned to me today. After the CT scans of his head and chest, they're going in with a scope to check that out. Still knocked out from the procedures this morning with sedatives, we'd been told not to expect any reactions out of him at all. 90 minutes after the surgery, we're in the room and he starts to kick. Full shoulder shrug, back shift. That Tim, he'll surprise you.
Mom and I simply wait for results from scans, procedures and data reading. All things so far are positive. We both talk to him like he's lucid, because we don't have a reason to think otherwise. He just can't respond at the moment. Mom talks to him sweetly, I crack jokes. Bring us the family dog and it's like we're in our living room.
This evening when we have more info on his reactions, we'll start planning for the next few weeks. He's surprised us in a good way every day he's been here, so we're hoping that trend continues. More when I have it.
~Ashlee
FB: Fri, 9:32 am:
Dad update: surgery done. All levels are lower, but some of that's good (bp, for example). He's heavily sedated, probably not responsive for a bit. Now we wait.
FB: Fri, 12;20 pm:
Dad update: well that wait wasn't long. He started flinching 90 minutes after surgery. Surprising, but great. All is calm and stable for now. CT scans of head and chest right now to check fractures and hematomas
EMAIL: Fri, 1:04 pm:
Last night/this morning have brought a few changes. Nothing negative. I mentioned yesterday that his sedation was removed to see where his reflex/brain activity was and he moved all 4 limbs. I was in his room last night right before midnight and he did is again...ON his sedatives. Slow kicks, lost of motion in the right arm, mouth and nose flinches, back shifting. It was beautiful. The respirator tech says it's because he heard my voice, but something tells me it had much more to do with the loud metal notebook that she dropped which probably scared the living daylights out of him.
Mom and I went back again right before 6 am to wish him luck on his procedure. All his levels were relatively calm. His newest night nurse, Jessica, is AMAZING. She spent almost an hour with me explaining each of the machines, what they measure and what are good and bad readings. I feel more prepared. We're hoping to have her back again tonight.
The procedure went as well as it possibly could. The trach respirator and feeding tube are in, which leaves his mouth and lower half of his face free from pressure. He looks better already. Well, as good as you can look after multiple face fractures and brain trauma. But trust me...better.
There is a possible hematoma on his lung that the doctor mentioned to me today. After the CT scans of his head and chest, they're going in with a scope to check that out. Still knocked out from the procedures this morning with sedatives, we'd been told not to expect any reactions out of him at all. 90 minutes after the surgery, we're in the room and he starts to kick. Full shoulder shrug, back shift. That Tim, he'll surprise you.
Mom and I simply wait for results from scans, procedures and data reading. All things so far are positive. We both talk to him like he's lucid, because we don't have a reason to think otherwise. He just can't respond at the moment. Mom talks to him sweetly, I crack jokes. Bring us the family dog and it's like we're in our living room.
This evening when we have more info on his reactions, we'll start planning for the next few weeks. He's surprised us in a good way every day he's been here, so we're hoping that trend continues. More when I have it.
~Ashlee
Thursday: Don't turn around, you'll miss it!
EMAIL: Thurs, 10:33 am:
A few changes since last night: the nurses have changed his sedative/painkiller to something a little less intense (he was on Propofol, can't remember the new one) and are monitoring his responses. It's caused his BP, temperature and brain swell/pressure levels to increase slightly, but the staff seems to be ok with that. I was touching his right arm while the nurse was checking his levels, and he moved it- good sign.
We're simply in a holding pattern right now. Most of the staff seems to be focused on the procedures scheduled for tomorrow (changing the respirator to a trach and the ped feeding tube), and seeing how he responds. He's stable, so no change, but no deterioration. The stability we're seeing right now is positive. In fact, everything the staff has said is positive. Realistic, but positive.
Mom is a trooper. She's been keeping a diary of all the activities, has interviewed all of his nurses, and is keeping track of all his levels. We've also started a sign-in book for all Dad's visitors, so he knows how much love there's been around him. Be sure to ask to leave a message if you come by.
I'll sen an update this afternoon if I have anything new to report. Keep up the prayers/chant/candles/love/support/whatever fits your belief system. We still need them, and we know they are working.
FB: Thurs at 4:29pm:
Dad update: painkillers were changed this morning, and completely removed sedatives for now, to see how he responds. We've got movement in all limbs, and he's breathing over the ventilator's recommendation (a good thing). Not out of the woods, but no setbacks yet. All eyes are on Friday's procedures. Took Mom out for ...a taco and to get pajamas- she's doing great. You guys are wonderful! We feel your love.
EMAIL: Thurs, 5:32 pm:
What a difference an afternoon makes!
Small, subtle changes, but all in a great direction. As I said earlier, his painkillers were changed this morning to something a little less intense, to see his reaction. More activity, and stabilized pressures.
We've been mentioning to the staff that he takes medication for high blood pressure since we've been here, but he hadn't been given any. I got a call from the pharmacy confirming his prescription, and earlier this afternoon they finally started administering the medication. His blood pressure lowered almost instantly. Gold star!
The staff completely removed sedatives for a few hours, to see how he would respond. We got movement in all limbs (I saw his shoulder twitch and I jumped up and down for joy- you'd think I'd been given a pony), and he's breathing over the ventilator's recommendation (the machine is set to breathe for him 12 times a minute, and he's been as high as 16- that means he's doing it himself- a good thing). He's of course not waking up...yet. But his reactions are all positive. They've put him back on the sedation to keep him calm and comfortable, but the movement we experienced is a huge plus.
I took Mom out of the hospital for the first time since the accident. We got lunch and then picked up a few essentials- hooray for pajamas! She is such a picture of grace right now. She's got the same effect here as she does at home- everyone just loves her. Dad's first day nurse really took to her- they hugged it out before she left for the weekend. But really, who's surprised by that?
Not out of the woods by a long shot, but no setbacks yet. All eyes are on Friday's procedures. Once those are completed he'll be at a lesser risk for infection, pneumonia, and the read on his brain swelling reports will be a bit more accurate. The goal is to get that stabilized, remove the drainage tube and get started on the plethora of fractured and broken bones. We're fully aware that it's going to be a slow process, and we're preparing. But we've got faith and peace and a dad with a history of survival.
We're comforted by all of the support you're giving. Believe us- we FEEL it. Thank you to everyone who's calling/emailing/visiting/praying. We're keeping track of all of it, and it's overwhelming, inspiring and the best gift you could possibly give. Thanks doesn't seem like a big enough word, so I'll throw in a few more languages.
Thank you, gracias, merci, danke, grazie, tack and obrigado,
Ashlee
FB: Thurs 10:08 pm:
Dad update: back on sedatives after testing his responses. He is resting now. We go into surgery for the trach and the feeding tube in the morning. Please hope for a smooth procedure during the 7:00 am hour.
A few changes since last night: the nurses have changed his sedative/painkiller to something a little less intense (he was on Propofol, can't remember the new one) and are monitoring his responses. It's caused his BP, temperature and brain swell/pressure levels to increase slightly, but the staff seems to be ok with that. I was touching his right arm while the nurse was checking his levels, and he moved it- good sign.
We're simply in a holding pattern right now. Most of the staff seems to be focused on the procedures scheduled for tomorrow (changing the respirator to a trach and the ped feeding tube), and seeing how he responds. He's stable, so no change, but no deterioration. The stability we're seeing right now is positive. In fact, everything the staff has said is positive. Realistic, but positive.
Mom is a trooper. She's been keeping a diary of all the activities, has interviewed all of his nurses, and is keeping track of all his levels. We've also started a sign-in book for all Dad's visitors, so he knows how much love there's been around him. Be sure to ask to leave a message if you come by.
I'll sen an update this afternoon if I have anything new to report. Keep up the prayers/chant/candles/love/support/whatever fits your belief system. We still need them, and we know they are working.
FB: Thurs at 4:29pm:
Dad update: painkillers were changed this morning, and completely removed sedatives for now, to see how he responds. We've got movement in all limbs, and he's breathing over the ventilator's recommendation (a good thing). Not out of the woods, but no setbacks yet. All eyes are on Friday's procedures. Took Mom out for ...a taco and to get pajamas- she's doing great. You guys are wonderful! We feel your love.
EMAIL: Thurs, 5:32 pm:
What a difference an afternoon makes!
Small, subtle changes, but all in a great direction. As I said earlier, his painkillers were changed this morning to something a little less intense, to see his reaction. More activity, and stabilized pressures.
We've been mentioning to the staff that he takes medication for high blood pressure since we've been here, but he hadn't been given any. I got a call from the pharmacy confirming his prescription, and earlier this afternoon they finally started administering the medication. His blood pressure lowered almost instantly. Gold star!
The staff completely removed sedatives for a few hours, to see how he would respond. We got movement in all limbs (I saw his shoulder twitch and I jumped up and down for joy- you'd think I'd been given a pony), and he's breathing over the ventilator's recommendation (the machine is set to breathe for him 12 times a minute, and he's been as high as 16- that means he's doing it himself- a good thing). He's of course not waking up...yet. But his reactions are all positive. They've put him back on the sedation to keep him calm and comfortable, but the movement we experienced is a huge plus.
I took Mom out of the hospital for the first time since the accident. We got lunch and then picked up a few essentials- hooray for pajamas! She is such a picture of grace right now. She's got the same effect here as she does at home- everyone just loves her. Dad's first day nurse really took to her- they hugged it out before she left for the weekend. But really, who's surprised by that?
Not out of the woods by a long shot, but no setbacks yet. All eyes are on Friday's procedures. Once those are completed he'll be at a lesser risk for infection, pneumonia, and the read on his brain swelling reports will be a bit more accurate. The goal is to get that stabilized, remove the drainage tube and get started on the plethora of fractured and broken bones. We're fully aware that it's going to be a slow process, and we're preparing. But we've got faith and peace and a dad with a history of survival.
We're comforted by all of the support you're giving. Believe us- we FEEL it. Thank you to everyone who's calling/emailing/visiting/praying. We're keeping track of all of it, and it's overwhelming, inspiring and the best gift you could possibly give. Thanks doesn't seem like a big enough word, so I'll throw in a few more languages.
Thank you, gracias, merci, danke, grazie, tack and obrigado,
Ashlee
FB: Thurs 10:08 pm:
Dad update: back on sedatives after testing his responses. He is resting now. We go into surgery for the trach and the feeding tube in the morning. Please hope for a smooth procedure during the 7:00 am hour.
Wednesday: No change is good.
Wednesday was the day the email train started. WE had more time in the waiting room, since Dad's progress was uneventful. But if he's not changing, it means he's not getting any worse. Cue the somber high-five.
EMAIL: Wed 10:45 am:
I'm Ashlee, Tim's daughter. I'll be sending updates as I have them. If you're just joining us, Dad was in a terrible motorcycle accident yesterday morning, and we are currently in the ICU at UAMS.
Here's what we know:
He's here, and according to the nurses, that's a miracle. The largest concern right now is neurological- they are watching his brain activity and checking his responsiveness. He has a stint to relieve swelling on his brain, which they must reduce and stabilize before they can fix anything else. He can hear our voices (he had a physical reaction to Mom's voice), but we don't know how much he actually comprehends. He has multiple broken bones: skull fractures on the left side, clavicle, face, multiple compression fractures in spine. He's on a respirator, unconscious due to medical sedation. Sounds awful, and it is. But he's here.
Mom finally got some sleep- she's been amazingly strong and the ultimate trooper. People from their work, church and the community have been here to see us. Everyone has been incredibly supportive and we're speechless in appreciation.
We're meeting with doctors soon to learn more, but right now it's a waiting game. I'll send an update this afternoon if I get more information.
FB: Wed at 6:37pm:
Dad update: the latest CT scans show no changes. Still monitoring his head pressure, and there's still brain swelling. He's getting a trach for breathing and a feeding tube on Friday, and hopefully by then we'll be able to see how soon we can remove the brain drainage tube. Not much improvement, but certainly no more deterioration. Mom is holding up. Keep up the love and support- it's working!
EMAIL: Wed 10:45 am:
I'm Ashlee, Tim's daughter. I'll be sending updates as I have them. If you're just joining us, Dad was in a terrible motorcycle accident yesterday morning, and we are currently in the ICU at UAMS.
Here's what we know:
He's here, and according to the nurses, that's a miracle. The largest concern right now is neurological- they are watching his brain activity and checking his responsiveness. He has a stint to relieve swelling on his brain, which they must reduce and stabilize before they can fix anything else. He can hear our voices (he had a physical reaction to Mom's voice), but we don't know how much he actually comprehends. He has multiple broken bones: skull fractures on the left side, clavicle, face, multiple compression fractures in spine. He's on a respirator, unconscious due to medical sedation. Sounds awful, and it is. But he's here.
Mom finally got some sleep- she's been amazingly strong and the ultimate trooper. People from their work, church and the community have been here to see us. Everyone has been incredibly supportive and we're speechless in appreciation.
We're meeting with doctors soon to learn more, but right now it's a waiting game. I'll send an update this afternoon if I get more information.
FB: Wed at 6:37pm:
Dad update: the latest CT scans show no changes. Still monitoring his head pressure, and there's still brain swelling. He's getting a trach for breathing and a feeding tube on Friday, and hopefully by then we'll be able to see how soon we can remove the brain drainage tube. Not much improvement, but certainly no more deterioration. Mom is holding up. Keep up the love and support- it's working!
Tuesday: It begins.
Tuesday morning, right before 3 am, a deer jumped in front of my father's Harley and started the journey we're on now.
I've been updating people in the best way I knew how: Facebook status changes and mass emails. Boy I love technology.
I've compiled them in order here to fill you in, in case you're just joining us. This one's a long read. Grab a drink and sit down.
I first got word Tuesday morning around 8 am. Mom called and I had trouble processing what I heard. It begins.
FB: Tue at 8:48am:
If you pray, pray for my father. Please.
EMAIL to work and music colleagues in Chicago, Tues 10:47 am:
Hi all,
Sorry for the group email, but I need to let you know this quickly.
This morning, my father was in a terrible motorcycle accident on his way to work. It's incredibly serious. He's been unconscious since it happened, has movement in only half his body, and took a lot of impact top his head and face. I'm heading to Arkansas in an hour, and do not know when I'll be returning. You're in this email because I'm supposed to have an appointment with you sometime in the next few days. Those plans are obviously and effectively canceled.
I'm sorry to dump this on you so quickly, but his injuries are serious enough that I must be there. He's improved since this morning, but it's still too soon to tell.
I may be back as early as Saturday- I'll keep Jimmy and/or Brian posted, so you can check with them if you can't reach me.
FB: Tue at 12:07pm:
Dad update: he had a terrible motorcycle accident this morning. He's in ICU at UAMS. Unconscious, but with movement on one side. Too soon to tell his prognosis. I'm flying to Little Rock now to be with my family. Will update friends as I can. Again, if you pray/chant/light candles, do it super hard right now. Please.
FB: Tue at 11:18pm
Dad Update: he's still here, and that's a miracle. He has a stint to relieve swelling on his brain. He can hear us but, we don't know how much he comprehends. Multiple broken bones: clavicle, face, many fractures in spine. He's on a respirator, unconscious due to medical sedation. Mom is finally sleeping- she's been amazingly strong. We'll know more in the morning, but make no mistake: we are lucky he's even alive.
I've been updating people in the best way I knew how: Facebook status changes and mass emails. Boy I love technology.
I've compiled them in order here to fill you in, in case you're just joining us. This one's a long read. Grab a drink and sit down.
I first got word Tuesday morning around 8 am. Mom called and I had trouble processing what I heard. It begins.
FB: Tue at 8:48am:
If you pray, pray for my father. Please.
EMAIL to work and music colleagues in Chicago, Tues 10:47 am:
Hi all,
Sorry for the group email, but I need to let you know this quickly.
This morning, my father was in a terrible motorcycle accident on his way to work. It's incredibly serious. He's been unconscious since it happened, has movement in only half his body, and took a lot of impact top his head and face. I'm heading to Arkansas in an hour, and do not know when I'll be returning. You're in this email because I'm supposed to have an appointment with you sometime in the next few days. Those plans are obviously and effectively canceled.
I'm sorry to dump this on you so quickly, but his injuries are serious enough that I must be there. He's improved since this morning, but it's still too soon to tell.
I may be back as early as Saturday- I'll keep Jimmy and/or Brian posted, so you can check with them if you can't reach me.
FB: Tue at 12:07pm:
Dad update: he had a terrible motorcycle accident this morning. He's in ICU at UAMS. Unconscious, but with movement on one side. Too soon to tell his prognosis. I'm flying to Little Rock now to be with my family. Will update friends as I can. Again, if you pray/chant/light candles, do it super hard right now. Please.
FB: Tue at 11:18pm
Dad Update: he's still here, and that's a miracle. He has a stint to relieve swelling on his brain. He can hear us but, we don't know how much he comprehends. Multiple broken bones: clavicle, face, many fractures in spine. He's on a respirator, unconscious due to medical sedation. Mom is finally sleeping- she's been amazingly strong. We'll know more in the morning, but make no mistake: we are lucky he's even alive.
Welcome/Introduction
Greeting from the Intensive Care Unit of UAMS in Little Rock!
I've created this space for all that know and love our family (come on, we're pretty darn loveable) to keep up to date on Dad's status.
In all seriousness, we are so incredibly humbled and grateful for all of the concern, calls, love, prayer, support, offers for help, and anything else you've thrown our way in support. It's divine grace and your care that's taken us this far, and we feel everything you're sending our way. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I'll add all the first email updates and facebook messages so you can mark his progression along with us. I'd like you to see this as Tim's electronic get-well card. Feel free to leave comments, words of encouragement, goofy stories about Dad, whatever.
Nothing too embarrassing about his checkered past, though. Remember, his wife reads this too. ;)
Blessing to you,
Ashlee
I've created this space for all that know and love our family (come on, we're pretty darn loveable) to keep up to date on Dad's status.
In all seriousness, we are so incredibly humbled and grateful for all of the concern, calls, love, prayer, support, offers for help, and anything else you've thrown our way in support. It's divine grace and your care that's taken us this far, and we feel everything you're sending our way. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I'll add all the first email updates and facebook messages so you can mark his progression along with us. I'd like you to see this as Tim's electronic get-well card. Feel free to leave comments, words of encouragement, goofy stories about Dad, whatever.
Nothing too embarrassing about his checkered past, though. Remember, his wife reads this too. ;)
Blessing to you,
Ashlee
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