That's What Friends Are For

Ah ... the unfortunate rollercoaster of this damn injury! So many times I have written about the incredible upswing taken by Juliana in this long journey, only to be followed by the crashing blow to reality. You have witnessed how it takes so much time to move so little and to expect too much too soon, is as painful as it is naïve. When last I left you Juliana was gaining strength, mobility and laughter. She was looking forward to Chris’s return, eagerly waiting for him to share his new music and counting down the days while working hard to make him proud. I was so energized by her progress that I was physically lighter from the weight lifted off my wounded family. In all the months of this journey you have taken with us you know that direction of pendulum swing is exactly the prescription that has been filled by the strike of sadness every other time. Well, not this time because Juliana’s life just keeps getting better. I am going on a six-day high because not only has Juliana been doing well, she has been doing so well that I am going to let go of my fear that this forward motion will suddenly reverse. I am going to commit to the idea that we have in fact left the darkest points behind us. It seems I just had to let go of the dream, just acquiesce to the permanent stain of grief to allow God and the universe prove me wrong again (I can get used to this). 

Indulge me while I share some of the more precious examples: You may recall that Juliana is currently wearing a walking boot to support her left ankle as it heals. It keeps her foot flat and in place and she can of course, walk on it. (Not without someone walking beside her to provide balance and stability, but it is easier than it has ever been, EVER.) Well, during the day Juliana gets two hours to have the boot off, and she keeps track of it to the minute. In the past you may recall that wearing her braces was such a trauma that we all endured her cries of torture while she endured the pain of the equipment. That was then, this is now. In the last few days she would ask for the boot off only to ask for it back on just a few minutes later. At first I was just grateful. Then "greedy me" was also curious, so I asked her why she wanted it back on so quickly. It seems she doesn’t want to waste all of her time at once so she is spreading her time out (smart). She also likes the feeling when it is coming off so she wants to have that feeling often (smarter). She also finally admitted that although she likes when it first comes off, she would rather have the boot on, than off (aha, I KNEW it ... she just had to get out of her own way!)If that shocking turn of events wasn’t Twilight Zone enough for you, Juliana LIKES all of her therapists, even those that she claimed to "hate" before! They are still so surprised by her change of attitude and how that has translated to incredible results that they can’t stop complimenting her. And it seems she finally likes it! 

You may know that Juliana has always loved to talk and many times during this recovery I have complained that I would gladly trade the quantity of garbled speech for a bit of quality conversation I can understand effortlessly. Well, if I could only just listen to myself I would have heard the answer was there all along. It seems you can’t have quality without quantity. (Where have I heard that before ... hmmm?) So, with the frequency of her speech we have also seen the quality improve. And Lord help us all, no topic is off limits. And if you ever do anything to upset her, that is the first thing she tells anyone who will listen. It is quite amusing (when it's not you she is speaking about, of course). Her filter, as in many brain injured people, is broken. Not forever, I am guessing since nothing else has been forever.  (HA, look at me being all Miss Positive! God I love that girl, she still makes or breaks my day.) And in addition to talking about what has happened to her, she will chat all day long about the most bizarre details about herself, of which there are many. 

When Juliana was in a coma we all feared that she would awaken without memory of her life before. In preparation for that we invited a group of her best friends to the house to talk about their favorite memories of Juliana, while her good friend Mike Schick videotaped the conversations so we could play them for her and reignite her memories if necessary.

In the years she was growing up I had often thought that Juliana associated with some interesting characters and I was absolutely right (you all know who you are, and you are welcome). But the stories they told confirmed something else: In very many cases, Juliana was the interesting character. It was absolutely part of her unique charm. As Chris has recently penned in a song, “Girl you lit up a room, you made it brand new, you give my life color." Watching that video reminded me again—her friends felt the same way. It was clear in the weeks of waiting room vigils and equally clear in the video made to remind her out of her slumber.  I love to read the comments left by readers so I know that it is reaching you and hopefully making someone’s day better. After this particular blog entry it would be really cool to also see a shout out from those who knew her well, those who have a story to tell, and those who can confirm that her color is vibrant and everlasting. Being a friend was one of her greatest accomplishments and as her mom, I was proud to see that develop. She still loves you guys so much and looks forward to the visits as much as she loved experiencing her goofiness with you in the past.

If you can still see through misty eyes, I have just a little bit more (I told you it’s been a very heartwarming few days ... ) Yesterday Juliana asked me to read to her. I said, “Sure what do you want me to read?”  I was surprised by the request because her interest in anything was non-existent until just a few weeks ago. As the seconds ticked by I was expecting her to say “that magazine” referring the copy of People sitting on the coffee table.  Then she said, “Your book.” (Sob.) So I did. I picked up where I left off from the last time and she sat and listened quietly.  After a few minutes she said, “Mom ... I’m sorry.”  I said, “For what?” You see, in the first few days and weeks following her accident I expected the day would come when she would feel terrible for making me worry so much and I wanted her to know I was alright, don’t worry about me, because I knew she would. But that sentiment was when this whole experience was days old, not years. As the recent months passed, I started to fear that her ability to empathize with another’s feelings would not even be possible. There were glimmers, pinpoints of light in the overall darkness but it was never like it was on this particular day. This was a full beam of sunshine. She said, “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.” I just looked at her with tears in my eyes and she saw my quiet and melting expression and said to me, “Come here Mom, I want to hug you.”  And for a few minutes she continued to console, apologize, and express her gratitude over and over, just as I guess I hoped she would be able to do someday, because that is the way she was. I have never wanted pity or sympathy through the entire two years from anyone (though I certainly threw some shameful pity parties in my honor all on my own).  And I definitely didn’t want Juliana to feel bad for me when she had enough bad to feel for herself. I just wanted to know she was capable of it ... and now I do. And in spite of myself, for those few moments, I just let her comfort me for what this has all cost me as well. And for the first time in almost two years, I felt like I had my best friend back.