Read Online The Vow: The True Events That Inspired the Movie by Kim Carpenter, Krickitt Carpenter, Dana Wilkerson - Free Book Online
Tags: Religión, Personal Memoirs, Biography & Autobiography, Biography, Religious, Inspirational, Patients, Christian Life, Love & Marriage, Coma, New Mexico, Coma - Patients - New Mexico, Christian Biography, Christian Biography - New Mexico, Carpenter; Krickitt - Health
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conversations.
During that first weekend at Barrow we learned about Krickitt’s daily schedule. She would start the day with occupational therapy, where she would relearn personal skills like getting bathed and dressed. Next, she would spend time with a speech therapist who would identify any speech disability caused by the injury and teach Krickitt how to overcome it. Her third session of the day would be physical therapy. During this time she would work on her hand-eye coordination, balance, and motor skills. Finally, she would get a break for lunch. Then she would spend the afternoons working on basic household chores such as cooking, vacuuming, and making a bed.
It was hard to believe that Krickitt would soon have such a packed schedule. After all, she was still technically in a coma. In fact, she wouldn’t be considered to be out of her “charted coma” until months after the accident. When we first arrived at Barrow, less than two weeks after the accident, she was only awake a few hours a day and she was extremely disoriented. The first night at Barrow she woke up, tried to get to the bathroom by herself, and ended up getting stuck in the bed rail that had been raised for her protection. From then on, someone slept in the room with her every night. This task usually fell to her mother, since I was still not in good physical shape due to my own injuries.
Since Krickitt was still sleeping more than twenty hours a day and couldn’t carry on a conversation for more than a minute or two, I wasn’t sure how her first official day of therapy would go. On that first Monday morning after we arrived, the day she was scheduled to meet Dr. Singh, I got to Krickitt’s room early because I had a plan for getting her ready. My intention was to try and wake her gently and then help her prepare for the big day ahead. I tried talking to her and stroking her face, but I got no response. Then I shook her shoulder, but still she didn’t so much as twitch.
At that moment Dr. Raj Singh entered, dressed like he’d just stepped out of GQ magazine. He was nothing like what I had expected—no white lab coat, no stethoscope, no clinical aloofness. He gave me a reassuring handshake, approached the head of the bed, and leaned over Krickitt. I had been doing my best to bring her to consciousness carefully, but the doctor had a different plan.
“You have to wake up,” Dr. Singh said firmly. Again, Krickitt didn’t respond.
“You have to wake up,” he repeated with exactly the same inflection. Still nothing.
Then Dr. Singh did something I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing. He reached over and gave Krickitt a hard pinch inside the front collar of her hospital gown. Her eyes flew open and she shouted, “Leave me alone!” along with a choice curse word. I was shocked to hear such language coming out of my wife’s mouth.
However, the strategy worked, because Dr. Singh now had Krickitt’s undivided attention. He told her to wiggle her right hand. She did. He told her to wiggle her left foot, and she did. Dr. Singh shot me a huge grin. “She will do well,” he said confidently. Within the hour Krickitt had begun her first occupational therapy lesson.
At times it was hard for me to remember that Krickitt wasn’t the only person who had been injured in the accident—I had been too. While we were in Gallup and Albuquerque, I had been in and out of the hospital as a patient a total of six times, yet I’d never been formally admitted overnight because I couldn’t stand to be away from Krickitt. I thought about her every minute of every day. I was terrified that she would die when I was away, even though she was continuing to improve a little bit at a time. Even when I did manage to catch a few minutes of sleep, I was never truly able to relax because I was so worried about her.
However, my broken bones were on the mend, and the surgeons in Albuquerque had repaired my ear and nose. Amazingly enough, in a few months no one would
During that first weekend at Barrow we learned about Krickitt’s daily schedule. She would start the day with occupational therapy, where she would relearn personal skills like getting bathed and dressed. Next, she would spend time with a speech therapist who would identify any speech disability caused by the injury and teach Krickitt how to overcome it. Her third session of the day would be physical therapy. During this time she would work on her hand-eye coordination, balance, and motor skills. Finally, she would get a break for lunch. Then she would spend the afternoons working on basic household chores such as cooking, vacuuming, and making a bed.
It was hard to believe that Krickitt would soon have such a packed schedule. After all, she was still technically in a coma. In fact, she wouldn’t be considered to be out of her “charted coma” until months after the accident. When we first arrived at Barrow, less than two weeks after the accident, she was only awake a few hours a day and she was extremely disoriented. The first night at Barrow she woke up, tried to get to the bathroom by herself, and ended up getting stuck in the bed rail that had been raised for her protection. From then on, someone slept in the room with her every night. This task usually fell to her mother, since I was still not in good physical shape due to my own injuries.
Since Krickitt was still sleeping more than twenty hours a day and couldn’t carry on a conversation for more than a minute or two, I wasn’t sure how her first official day of therapy would go. On that first Monday morning after we arrived, the day she was scheduled to meet Dr. Singh, I got to Krickitt’s room early because I had a plan for getting her ready. My intention was to try and wake her gently and then help her prepare for the big day ahead. I tried talking to her and stroking her face, but I got no response. Then I shook her shoulder, but still she didn’t so much as twitch.
At that moment Dr. Raj Singh entered, dressed like he’d just stepped out of GQ magazine. He was nothing like what I had expected—no white lab coat, no stethoscope, no clinical aloofness. He gave me a reassuring handshake, approached the head of the bed, and leaned over Krickitt. I had been doing my best to bring her to consciousness carefully, but the doctor had a different plan.
“You have to wake up,” Dr. Singh said firmly. Again, Krickitt didn’t respond.
“You have to wake up,” he repeated with exactly the same inflection. Still nothing.
Then Dr. Singh did something I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing. He reached over and gave Krickitt a hard pinch inside the front collar of her hospital gown. Her eyes flew open and she shouted, “Leave me alone!” along with a choice curse word. I was shocked to hear such language coming out of my wife’s mouth.
However, the strategy worked, because Dr. Singh now had Krickitt’s undivided attention. He told her to wiggle her right hand. She did. He told her to wiggle her left foot, and she did. Dr. Singh shot me a huge grin. “She will do well,” he said confidently. Within the hour Krickitt had begun her first occupational therapy lesson.
At times it was hard for me to remember that Krickitt wasn’t the only person who had been injured in the accident—I had been too. While we were in Gallup and Albuquerque, I had been in and out of the hospital as a patient a total of six times, yet I’d never been formally admitted overnight because I couldn’t stand to be away from Krickitt. I thought about her every minute of every day. I was terrified that she would die when I was away, even though she was continuing to improve a little bit at a time. Even when I did manage to catch a few minutes of sleep, I was never truly able to relax because I was so worried about her.
However, my broken bones were on the mend, and the surgeons in Albuquerque had repaired my ear and nose. Amazingly enough, in a few months no one would
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