His Heart is Strong

On the night that I arrived at Walter Reed to meet Andy, a very capable and experienced charge nurse told me the best way to handle my first visit with Andy was to go into his room, look directly into his face, talk to him for a few moments and then she would remove me from the situation and brief me. I will forever be grateful for her wisdom and experience.

I was radically unprepared for what I saw and the truth is those few moments stretched out in front of me like days. Seeing Andy--my Army Andy--like that was beyond explanation or description. I'm still working on the words. Captain/Nurse was very wise and she rescued me from needing to be with him yet not wanting to embarrass him or redirect his staff by doing something stupid like falling in the floor in a heap in a big ol pile of sisterly mess.

She pulled me out and gave me an empty room to recompose in. And then she asked if I knew what was going on with him. I told her I'd only arrived a few moments before and had only the basic story. She began to relay his current assessments and conditions and concerns, graciously translating her medical-ease into lay-persons terms when I requested (which was quite often) and repeating what I didn't understand. Honestly, I don't remember most of what she said. It's captured in the haze of "my Army brother is down the hall in that bed--he's been shot". In those moments everything--and I do mean everything else seemed non-essential.

After several minutes of trying to listen coherently (and no doubt failing miserably), I managed to form a question. It was a moment of clarity that could only have come from the Father, because I have no idea why or how I got to that point. I asked her "what are the areas of primary concern today?"

She said: "the actual wound, the remaining frag and the possibility of fluid and infection in his lungs." She stopped, looked at his chart and said five words that rained down hope in my soul:

"His heart is very strong."

I'm sure she was speaking from a medical standpoint, pointing out that despite the trauma, his heart rate was strong and steady. And that was certainly reassuring information, in a laundry list of problems and questions that didn't contain an abundance of "good information". But this Captain/Nurse doesn't know my brother. His heart has been strong since the day he drew his first breath. Even I knew that. More than the medical, this was about the part of him that no bullet can shatter.

It was this phrase that stuck with me through the next few hours.
His heart is very strong.
His heart is very strong.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
His heart is very strong.

I needed something to hold onto and there it was. A good sign medically, no doubt, and also a statement of truth that I already knew was more true than anyone else on that wing even had a clue about. All rolled into the neat little five-word package.

His Heart is Strong.
After I came home I began writing these words down and I finished them on the plane today:




His body is hurting for the moment
His spirit has taken a beating
His mind is clouded and longing
His understanding not so certain
But he is not broken down
He cries silent forbidden tears
but let there be no doubt, his heart is strong

His arms are heavy from carrying more weight than one man should have to bear
His dreams are overshadowed with the living images that plague his mind
Sleep is healing and torturous and erratic
Confusion is his unwanted companion, his unbidden protector
He is bent but not broken
His heart is strong

His legs may never take another single step
but his journey is far from over
His fingers disobey his wishes and refuse his orders
but his eyes are blue and shining and he is here with me
His path has been altered but not abandoned
He is tall in spirit and yes, his heart is strong

He has given of himself for the country of his birth, for his family, his honor and his chosen bretheren
He has done great and mighty and horrible things
He has endured the fury of war and stared down fear without wavering
And he will again, on a different field of battle, no doubt
He soldiers on, every moment of every new day that comes
His heart is strong

He admits no defeat
He accepts no limits
He defies complacency
He denies uselessness
He refuses to question
He embraces the pain of progress and begs for more
He pushes onward and upward
He will boldly become more…more than he ever imagined
He goes to work
His heart is strong

Today his hands tremble,
tomorrow they will be grasping firmly
Today his voice is softened
tomorrow it will be resounding
Today he moves with trepidation and clumsiness
Tomorrow he will move with security and determination
Today he wonders what other people see
Tomorrow he will know that most people see more in him than ever before
Today his heart is strong
Tomorrow it will be even stronger

In a week...

In just over a week my sister will be married. Where's my tissue?

Update and a few thoughts

It happened again today. Ever notice how just when you think you have all of life squared away...boom. There's one more thing. Smackin' ya in the face. Maybe it's just me.

I was picking up a few groceries at Publix (affectionately known as "the mothership"), minding my own beeswax. And boom. It all just fell apart.

I turned the corner to the soup aisle and right there in front of me was a camo-clad, Army boot-wearing, clean-shaven, red-headed soldier from the 101st Airborne. He was studying the soup and probably gettin' a little skeeved by the woman who was studying him with a little too much intensity. Julian was behind me and he nudged me with his elbow and said "Moma, he's an Army man." in his Julian way. As if I could have possibly missed that fact.

I resisted the urge to hug said Army man stranger and buy him lunch or just some soup and be a complete idiot stranger...but not by much. I can't explain it. I am the last person on earth who would hug a stranger. Ever. I have a well-defined bubble of personal space. I would completely melt down if a stranger person asked to hug me, if the roles were reversed. What on Earth is wrong with me? I guess it's a good thing I don't live closer to Fort Cambell. It might get out of hand. I can see restraining orders and official complaints...not good. :)

I learned something new today...it appears that Andy will be staying put in Tampa until the end of November. He's making good progress and working hard. The original plan was 6-8 weeks...and I haven't been able to track down when that changed...but apparently it has. This is good. He has a good situation there...good work being done.

Happy Wednesday.

Ten Days

So sorry for the ten day hiatus on yon blog.
Swamped with stuff here and news from Florida has slowed. Andy's not slowing...just the flow of news around him. From all accounts Andrew is kicking butt and takin' names, as usual. Dad spent a week with him last week and I will post his email following.

The good news:
I can have my personal life back now that the 52 page cruise scrapbook for NWYC is done. Joal's taking it to the company anniversary gala this weekend. For those of you who may have missed it, every year NWYC (the company Joal is part of) sends their top producers on a Caribbean Cruise. We went on the cruise in March. Every year I make a scrapbook of the cruise for the company to show off in their home office in Dallas using as many photos as I can cajole people to contribute. This year I took more than 800 photos myself!

The book should have been done months ago but I've been a bit out of sorts and getting it done was like giving birth...slow and painful. :) Next year you better believe that I will not let it drag out.

I feel like I can breath again, finally.
Now we can focus on the wedding!

Here's Daddy's note about his time with Andy:

Dear Andy's Family,
Well I'm back from Florida and it is a beautiful place. It has breath taking views down extremely long halls. It has sparkling, beautifully waxed floors. It has ceramic tile... oh, no, wait, that is the hospital. Well, come to think of it, that's about all I saw of Florida, but it really was beautiful. It was a place of healing and hope and I saw a lot of that going on.

Really, I did see a little of Tampa on two occasions. One was coming in, on the plane. Again the Hero Miles Program operated by the Fisher House Foundation made the travel super easy. As we arrived over Tampa I looked out the window of the plane to see beautiful homes lining what seemed like endless shore lines. It could easily have been one of those aerial shots for CSI Miami. (Maybe they really shoot those in Tampa.)

Daniel and Staff Sargent Main picked me up at the Airport and took me to the hospital. When I first saw Andy, he was working on some occupational therapy and he had his back to me. My first impression was, "he looks frail," so I hugged him even longer. That was the last time I got to feel sorry for him because he would have none of that.

Knowing that I was the "rookie" who was going to be filling in for Daniel (Mr. Experience, at this point) Andy gave me two very important instructions while I was there. The first went like this: "Dad, the idea is for me to not look like a dork, and you to not look like a chauffeur." The second was: "Dad, if I don't ask you to do it, don't do it." (He raised his voice a little on that last part - for emphasis I guess.)

He had to repeat that last instruction a few times over the first couple of days. It was the little things that tripped me up. They seemed so easy for me and so hard for him, so I did them automatically. Then would come that raised voice again (I let him get away with a little more along those lines than I used to). Mr. independent might ask for a bottle of water, but he didn't want it opened. He might want his razor off the table, but he didn't ask me to turn it on. And so it went until I finally got the message: "I have to learn independence again."

It is at once an inspiring and heartbreaking thing to watch. It is inspiring to observe the character of my son rising to such heights in the face if such a daunting task. It is heart breaking to watch the pain of the process, itself. Every little thing has to be consider and analyzed. The small things, the ordinary things, the automatic things - there are none of those any more. The frustration is enormous but every day he goes at it, and every day he gets better at it.

Andy is surrounded by some great people at James A. Haley. The therapist are mostly young highly trained professionals. They seem to not only know therapy, but people. Andy relates well to all of them and he looks forward to therapy every day. He seems more at ease working there than anything else he does through the day.

While he works they also laugh and joke and talk about movies and music and pick on each other. Often in the last therapy session of the day (3-4pm) there are fewer patients in the "gym" and other therapist will come over and sit around and talk and gab and laugh. But the work always goes on.

On one such occasion when Andy was on the "Tilt Table," a device that re-trains his body to control blood pressure when he is vertical, Andy decided to entertain the group. He was strapped to the table and standing at 80 degrees while his blood pressure leveled out. Somewhere in the background some music was playing, so, Mr. Andrew put his hands on his hips and started moving his head and hips as though he was dancing. He made all of our hearts dance with him. It was quite a moment.

Andy has a way of creating those moments often though. At one point we were discussing some mistake that I had made in "disability etiquette," and he was giving me a hard time. I wasn't really looking at him, I was just listening - mostly. Then I caught the end of a paragraph. He said, "I don't know how I turned out so good." I instantly cut my eyes around to his face only to meet that stupid, crooked smile of his.

And the boy never quits pushing himself. If you remember from previous Andy Updates, because his energy level was so low at first, the therapists wanted him in the fully-motorized chair so he negotiated for half time in the assisted chair (You put in a little energy, it puts out a lot of spin.). Some of you may remember that I told you that he would re-negotiate that deal before it was over. Well, it came to pass. When I got there Andy was in the assisted wheel chair. He had already negotiated that to full time but he still wasn't happy about it. He wanted a manual chair, so he warted them until they gave him one. (Really they are very accommodating to his aspirations.)

The first day or three, it exhausted him and frustrated him to no end because his hands don't have quite the strength of grip required. It was difficult to watch him return to his room at night with zero energy left for anything. After a couple of days, I had watched about all I could. I asked him to consider that maybe it took too much energy for now. Big mistake. He said, with perfect resolve, "Dad I can do this. And, I have to do this."

And he did.

By the first of the next week he had tried several different kinds of gloves that successfully improved his grip and therefore his ability to move the chair. His body began to adjust amazingly quickly to the energy need. So, by Monday Night Football time he was wheeling and dealing in the manual chair. We went to Fisher House where I stayed on the hospital grounds, propped up in front of the big screen TV in the den area, ordered pasta from Pizza Hut, and stayed up late watching the game. It was an amazing time and a highlight of the trip for me. By 11:00pm he was tired but then so was I. So, much for "can't do."

Besides personal independence, the other issue that Andy is dealing with is "perception / respect." He has a new identity that is connected to a wheel chair and he is still a little insecure about that. The idea is "How will people look at me now?" But, as usual, he is dealing with it, and he is doing a good job.

Over the last several days of this visit, I have been amazed at the escalating personal gravity that Andy has. So much so, that I have begun to see him so very differently myself. The child image and awareness that has been so long ingrained in my mind seems now to have gone away somewhere. To the point that, where once I was more likely to give Andy advice on life, now I am just as likely to ask his advice. I think he will have no trouble with the issue of respect. He just needs a little time to discover that for himself.

Well, I better close. It was a great time in Florida. I cannot wait to get back. It is a pure joy to be with Andy there. Thanks so much for your continuing prayers. They become the energy of his daily achievements in the very real terms that I described.

Our love,
Larry, Donna and Family

Newspaper Article part 1

If you want to read the first part of the newspaper article Dad wrote for the Texarkana Gazette, I have posted photos of the actual paper to my photobucket account. Maybe it's weird but I like reading newspaper articles from the newspaper. These images are huge--that's the only way to make them readable. It's a big story. If you are using dial-up, you'll probably be pretty frustrated. Sorry about that.

See them here...4 images.

Have a blessed weekend.

Thursday Night Update

Sent from Mom on Thursday evening (9.18.2008)

Dear Family,

The procedure to help Andy swallow easier and speak louder was a success. Larry saw on the screen the vocal cord on the right was working as it should. The one on the other side was arched to the left so when they flexed, they did not come together as they should. Following the injection the cord straightened up and the two cords came together.

Success but not without cost.

When Andy spoke for the first time following the procedure, he could only speak just above a whisper--much softer than before. The doctor did not tell Andy that the needle would cause temporary swelling and much less volume than he had. The swelling should wear off in a day or two, bringing back his voice and hopefully to new levels. But immediately, Andy was devastated.

Larry said that it was a real set back. Andy felt (and said) that the one thing that he had (his voice) had now gone away. He did not speak much all afternoon.

In spite of the disappointment, Andy worked hard in PT. He was asked and shown how to do something new, I think, sorry I can't remember exactly what. Whatever it was, he did it for 8-10 MINUTES! The PT was blown away. He expected 8-10 SECONDS! OORAH!

Andy transferred himself from his chair to his bed -- no assistance needed. That is a big accomplishment. Before Larry left for the evening, he and Andy had one of those special Dad/son times. Larry encouraged Andy to rethink how to keep his dreams alive. Of course, there are some he has had to let go of, but he can replace them with new ones. They talked a long time and I am sure there were a few hugs involved.

Daniel has done an excellent job for and with Andy. I am sure there have been many brother to brother talks but sometimes a guy just needs to talk with his Dad. Many of you, through financial support have allowed Larry the time off from work to actually be at the hospital to be a father/counselor to his son. I am grateful.

With my sincere appreciation for your continued interest and prayers in Andy's behalf,
---Donna B
for Larry, Sarah and Joal, Daniel, Andy, Deborah and Matthew

Music

I have the great pleasure of being married to a man who is a writer of songs and a player of a pretty mean guitar. His newest CD arrived on Monday! Yes, we are very excited...it was a very long process.

Joal's music has been called "the thinking-man's music" and "John Mellencamp meets Jesus". :) He's a rocker with soul.

For a free song, you can visit his myspace at www.myspace.com/joalD

I have a few free CDs at my disposal...if you'd like one, shoot me an email.

--Sarah

Wednesday--Go Andy!

This is a picture of Daniel that I stole from his Facebook page. We always talk about Andy and show pictures of Andy...I thought you should all meet Daniel, face-to-face. For all the ooh-rah that Andy is, Daniel is ooh-rah under a little more control. A little. Not much. He's the oldest brother--#2 in the lineup of Burnett siblings, but in many ways, he is--I think--viewed by Andy and Deb as the oldest. It's complicated. Daniel is a little quieter but alot sneakier. He has learned, over the years, how to operate under the radar of Andy. He knows Andy better than anyone and that makes him very dangerous. :) Daniel told me not too long ago that he and Andy are like "Garth and Hub" from Secondhand Lions. And they probably will be even more in 40 years. I hadn't thought of it before, but I can see it now.

Dad arrived in Tampa and will have some time with Daniel to get acclimated before Daniel leaves tomorrow for a few days at his home.

I spoke to Daniel this morning and he reported the following "good news" items:

--Andy had a swallow test yesterday and did really well with it. A swallow test is done periodically by the Speech specialists using a scope to determine how well controlled his swallowing is or isn't, which in turn is a deciding factor in what alterations can be made to his meal plan and approved foods and drinks. There's always concern that if swallowing is difficult or there is further damage in the area, that food or drink will get misdirected.

As a result of good news on the swallow test, water and other non-thickened liquids are back on the approved list. This is excellent news, especially because at least one of the medications makes his mouth very dry.

--One of the newest goals that Andy has set for himself is to go from using the power-assist chair to the regular wheel chair in the next two weeks. Daniel says this is a very reasonable goal and has no doubts that Andy can do it. Building upper body and arm strength is the key to success here...and he is continuing to do that.

--Yesterday Andy spent some time on the "tilt table". This is a PT device that stands him up--or at least starts him on the process of being upright again. The purpose is to encourage circulation, especially to his legs and to re-train his body to deal with the blood pressure issues. It's a process that will continue slowly and he will build up to success on this one.

--Daniel said that Andy started talking about some of his future plans with his friend Matt, who visited over the weekend. This is such a good thing. We can all make all the plans in the world for him, but until he embraces hoping, dreaming, doing all kinds of things in the future--until he believes again that this altered life is still worthy of all his might, it's just us making plans for him. It was a great sign to Daniel that Andy's embracing and planning his future.

Daniel said that there's not much new to report on the medical or day-to-day side of things. Andy's days are pretty routine now. He does many hours of all the different therapies every day. He works hard and never backs down from a challenge. He truly is doing the "drink water and drive on" maneuver. :)

Matt brought Andy some of his belongings--his iPod, his computer, (the shoes)...the wallet and dog tags are still in the wind. Hopefully they will come in the Army's shipment of items from Afghanistan and Italy.

Also in the belongings that Matt brought, was a copy of an x-ray showing the round when it was lodged in Andy's spine. Daniel's words were "the bullet is huge, it's as big around as Andy's spinal cord". Weirdly enough, the bullet is still perfectly shaped.

Matt told Daniel that the round "bounced" off the Kevlar helmet that Andy was wearing and then penetrated his neck. There's visible damage to the helmet...Andy's hoping that the helmet is in the gear being shipped to him. He wants to see it.

And finally, on a lighter note, Daniel said that the boys held a wheelchair time-trial in the long hallway--Matt, Daniel and Andy. :) He's still doing the math to figure out how far and how fast and who won. Unfortunately, Daniel got scolded by a rather famous nurse for not maintaining the "walking speed" rule in the hallway. He thinks Matt and/or Andy is responsible for getting him into "trouble". Daniel's considering how he can connect with one of the campus police officers in hopes of borrowing a speed gun and conducting another event in the parking lot.

(Safe travels Daniel.)

--Sarah

The Shoes

From Daniel...

Hi to Andy's family,

When we were at Walter Reed, I was told a story about my brother in Afghanistan.

While Andy was in Afghanistan, he ordered a pair of shoes that he really liked. They arrived in the mail but he would not wear them, because of all the dust, dirt, grit and grime that is Chowkay, he didn't want to wear them and get them dirty.

So for two months he planned to wear his shoes at home on leave.

It was told to me that he would take them out of the box and actually smell them. He told some of the guys that he liked the "new shoe smell" a lot better than the smell of the world around him. He would look at them, shine them up and imagine wearing them back home. For two months, he dreamed of wearing the new shoes, and then he was wounded.

At that point, he wasn't thinking about shoes--just surviving and getting better. A few weeks back, Andy remembered those shoes and once again they became something to hope for. After some checking we were able to find out that one of Andy's best friends had them and would be hand delivering them as soon as he could.

So more waiting--Two more months to be exact.

He had to wait four months after he bought them but on Friday of last week I put them on his feet and he got to show them off. Matt--Andy's friend--brought them all the way from Afghanistan and, like he said he would--he hand delivered them.

The most important thing Matt brought with him was not the shoes, as cool as that was. It was rather the understanding of a fellow soldier. It was a tremendous blessing to see how those two men helped each other. I am so amazed at how God works things out for our benefit.

--J. Daniel

From Sarah
And because I know some people will want to know...they are Under Armour Shoes.

Dad to Tampa

Dad is flying to Tampa today to be with Andy while Daniel goes home for a few days rest. I spoke to Daniel this morning and Andy had a very good friend and fellow Army man come for a visit this weekend and it did him so much good. Daniel said "Andy looked up and saw him and just about turned himself inside out."

I will get a copy of the first part of the Texarkana Gazette series posted later today (hopefully) and also the Vanity Fair article...

Tomorrow will be 2 months...

Andy's Address with a new room number

Slightly altered address (reflecting the new room number)

James A. Haley Veterans Hospital
13000 Bruce B. Downs Blvd
Tampa FL 33612
SCI-D47-2 James Andrew Burnett


Daniel assures me that if you have sent something recently with the other room number on it, do not worry. It will get to Andy. The SCI-D is not very big...and everyone knows Andy.

:)

Texarkana Gazette

Today's edition of the Texarkana Gazette holds the first installment of a ten-part story that was originally written by my father chronicling Andy's journey over the last two months. You can only read it online if you are a subscriber to the Gazette...so if you are, check it out. Know that I am jealous of you. :)

September Photo

Drive On

Sorry it has been so long getting back to you. Things have been a little bit crazy. Crazy good and crazy bad.

Bad first. Blood pressure issues are a real pain. Both of us are trying to learn what he can handle and when. This is not an easy thing and when you mess up, the price you pay is rather unnerving. But, we drive on.

Pushing papers is not my thing but I'm doing it for my brother. Your prayers that things will get to who they need to when they need to would be a wonderful help. My focus is shifting from rehab to finance--I want to be good at it for my brother. He is earning it!

He is still adjusting and because of that some days are just lousy. But he pushes through and keeps going. Paratroopers have a saying, "Drink water--drive on." That's what he's doing. Actually it's thickened Gatorade, but you get the idea.

The good stuff. He's still adjusting and because of that some days are really good. At the end of last week we were in on of the therapies and he looked up at me and said "my right thumb is moving". Bear in mind that he can't even make a fist with his right hand so I thought he meant it was twitching because of the spasticity. He said, "No look, I'm moving it." I looked and sure enough, it was moving ever so slightly. We debated for a second and decided that I would hold his other fingers and wrist, still just to make sure. It was, in fact, his thumb, moving.

As I was about to climb up on the table and yell out in triumph, Andy was kind enough to tell me that might not be such a good idea. I was still happy!

The other big thing has been the transfer from bed to chair and from chair to bed. When you have a one hundred and fifty pound rag doll, it can be a little difficult. OK that's an understatement. It involves a track-mounted, overhead lift system with a large sling that goes under his back, back side and legs plus one or two people to make sure that nothing is tangled, hooked, snagged or pinched.

Not easy at all.
Or at least that's how it used to be.

Now he has a board that he lays between the bed and the chair and with help, he can slide right in. It is still very hard but he has more direction and control over his own care. This is huge!

No longer does he have to be hoisted by strangers but rather they can help balance him as he sits up and slides around. It is a big confidence thing.

I'm also attaching a picture of Andy for those of you who don't actually know what he looks like these days. By the way, its not a good idea to take a picture of a paratrooper with out asking permission! Thank you all.

God bless,
Daniel

Chosen Company

I have a love/hate relationship with Google. I love that it can reveal information on just about any topic under the sun, but by the same token, sometime I hate those revelations.

For instance, google the words "Chosen Company" and you can blow a whole night reading all the things that have been written about Chosen Company of the 173rd. Don't ask me why I know this is possible.

In other news, I got an unexpected letter from Andy in the mail a few days ago. Apparently, someone is cleaning out his locker and mailing his letters. It's a little unnerving. OK, check that. It's alot un-nerving. I hate it, in fact. I don't know exactly when he wrote it. It's short--one steno page. It's a letter from a soldier who's doing a job. And is frustrated by the conditions.

I hate not knowing.
And I hate knowing.

Never Forget

J

G

Southwest LUV

So, Jessica asked "What do you love about Southwest?"

Oh I am so loving Southwest...given that I have been and will be airborne more times during the months of July, August, and October than I have in the past 4 years combined.

I love to fly.
Seriously. Love. to. fly.
Take offs make me positively giddy.



From the momentary pause at the end of the runway, when I imagine the pilot saying "here we go" and then everything starts to rumble maliciously. I love that pedal-to-the-metal feeling, when you know you have to commit RIGHT NOW. When, in that instant before the nose lifts up off the runway, you know that you absolutely can't turn back now. Too much runway has been burned up...take off is inevitable now.

Then the front wheels lift off, and there's that moment when you are suspended between--half-up and half-down...and then it's gone. The rear wheels lift up off the ground and the climb starts.
The climb. That initial asscent into the wild blue yonder...the momentary miracle that propells the tin can into the sky...

When cars begin to look like Hotwheels...and I imagine children in cars on the interstate, looking out their windows and saying "look, Mommy, it's an airplane!"...just like my children do.

When swimming pools dot the landscape like raindrops.

When the things on the ground take on an oddly organized look--subdivisions make more sense from the sky...they look like rows and paths made of stepping stones all curled around into each other.

When the magic of flight thrusts you into the clouds and then burst you forth above them...and they look like the softest, most luscious marshmallows ever...

Life seems simpler in the air--like it's easier to see the big picture.

Anyway, I do enjoy flying, especially with Southwest. I adore open seating. Open seatingmay just be the smartest move made by any airline since the birth of human flight back at Kitty Hawk. Seriously.

I like the ease of checking in online the day before, I like that they have boarding down to a science, I like that the pilots and flight attendants all seem to approach things with a sense of humor...

The pilot on my last trip from Tampa to Nashville came on the intercomm at the beginning of the flight and said "Welcome aboard Southwest Flight 1234 with continuing service to Baltimore...never fear, we'll be making a pitstop in Nashville for gas and directions..." Little stuff that makes a flight a little more enjoyable...

And the fact that they have the best record of all airlines for getting there on time and getting out of the gate on time...gotta love that.

I like that they take good care of soldiers.

So that's my love for Southwest.
And flying in general.

Weekend News and World Report

Etsy is evil.
Time and money sucker.
But such lovely things.
Like this shop.

Sweet Laughter

Family,
Here is the latest story--more than update from Daniel. I trust each one of you will enjoy this as much as I did.

With my love and sincere gratitude because your prayers brought this to life,
Donna B


Hi.
For as bad a ride as Monday was, the rest of the week has been a lot more stable.

On Tuesday we had a strategic planing session with all of the spinal team. Andy set some goals that he wanted to work on for the next two week block and the team had some input as well. Because of the meeting we didn't go to the first therapy session and the meeting didn't last very long so we had some time to knock around a little bit. As most of you know, the brothers Burnett tend to bore easily and this usually leads to some form of ill-advised behavior. Today was no exception.

Let me say right now that the modern wheel chair is an interesting bit of engineering. There are three types: power, manual, and a hybrid of the two. Power and manual are the most common but the hybrid is the coolest. It has what's called force multiplier rems. Because of the weakness of Andy's arms, he can put about 2 pounds of force into the rems and they multiply that by 12 times. These facts intrigued me a great deal and since Andy was using his power chair and I had time on my hands, I thought I might investigate a little bit.

Needless to say, I can put more than 2 pounds of force to those rems. Furthermore, it became very apparent that the room we were in at the time was not nearly large enough to contain my new found entertainment. Andy had been sitting rather disinterested and dozing until I crashed into the tray table at the end of my poorly-executed, high-speed u-turn.

He looked at me and asked what I thought I was doing?
To which I replied, "Dude, look at what I can do."

Apparently, in spite of our age, individual lives and high level of maturity those words are still equal to a brotherly challenge.

It was on.

It didn't take but about 5 minutes to use up our assortment of tricks and with no clear victor, the competition spiraled downward into a combination tractor pull and demolition derby. Don't worry Mom we didn't brake anything. (That can't be fixed.) Unfortunately for me, Andy won that round. His chair weighs a lot more than mine.

In an effort to at least win a moral victory, I threw out my best figure-8 which he countered with a rather impressive deep-chair recline. Not to be outdone, I executed a near perfect zero turning radius maneuver. Andy countered with a series of fast and tight donuts and then he suddenly stopped, look right at me with semi-bug eyes and said with a smile on his face, " I should not have done that!"

I tried hard not to laugh--I really did--but he got himself so dizzy that I just couldn't help it. The weightless innocent humor of what we had been doing had dawned on us both and, like we did when we were kids, we laughed at and with each other. For those few minutes, we forgot what it was to be weighed down. In that time there was a joy and contentment that I think both of us had forgotten even existed.

I glanced at the clock to see it was time for our next appointment and before we left, Andy rather matter of factly said, "Daniel, I want to be one of those guys that the new spinal patients hear about."

I didn't understand what he meant so I questioned him. He explained that on the ward you hear of men who go on to do big things--things that no one thought they could do. He said, "I want to be one of them."

My reply was simple, "You will be."
Daniel