PAINT FORK FARM
"Security is mostly a superstition. it does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." -Helen Keller
On July 30, 2019, Sam was stung by a bee. He went into anaphylactic shock and sustained an anoxic brain injury. We spent 3 weeks in our local hospital and 5 weeks in a skilled nursing facility (nursing home) before heading to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta, GA. The Shepherd Center is a rehabilitation hospital and Shepherd Pathways is their outpatient program. Sam was an inpatient for 15 weeks and an outpatient for 11 weeks before we returned, in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, but together and home at last.
Previously, we were following our dream and starting a flower farm. We were in our third season and both still worked off farm at Blue Mountain Pizza, the place where we met and fell in love. We were putting away for our retirement, even talking about having a baby. Now, with so much uncertainty, planning for our future is almost impossible. My father compares it to rummy, a card game. Without knowing what cards are coming, all you can do is play the cards you have and hope for the best. When you get new cards, you adjust your strategy based on your new hand. Rinse and repeat.
It’s a challenge, it’s difficult and it’s painful. One day, we’re planning on building a new house on our land. Today, I’m not sure if we’ll even be able to keep our property, where we got married. One day, we’re recording our podcast. Today, Sam struggles to mouth a single word to me. One day, there are two able bodied people sharing equal responsibilities. Today, Sam fights to recover while I handle everything else. One day, I was a farmer, server, maker, wife and best friend. Today, farmer and server have left but I’ve taken on caregiver, therapist, nurse, insurance warrior, scheduling manager, general guardian and advocate. There are no words to explain or describe how completely, utterly, dramatically our lives changed on July 30th.
It’s a journey, it’s amazing and it’s inspiring. One day, Sam is in a coma and I’m told there’s little to no hope. Today, he is present and aware every second he is awake. One day, Sam is in a wheelchair or in extensive equipment relearning how to walk. Today, we work on controlling (slowing down!) his speed and jogging. One day, he’s in surgery to insert a feeding tube into his abdomen. Today, the tube is a memory and very few foods are off limits. One day, Sam only remembers me. Today, though names are haphazard, he recognizes almost everyone in his life. One day, sleep is almost nonexistent, interrupted by night terrors and screams. Today, rest comes easily and is unbroken. There are no words to explain or describe how completely, utterly, dramatically our lives have changed since July 30th.
My main goal is to stay home with Sam as long as I possibly can to continue his recovery. He is getting better every single day and we need to keep up that momentum. Without getting too long winded about it, our expenses are currently more than our income and that’s never a good thing. Any purchase made will go directly to closing that gap. Once the gap is closed and we are no longer in the red, the profits from the shop will go towards things we currently fundraise for: large home therapy equipment, returning to Shepherd Pathways for their outpatient programs, therapy intensives at Apex Brain Centers, future medical expenses, etc. I try to be as transparent as possible so feel free to contact me with questions. If you’d like to stay current with our journey, icons/links to my Instagram account, our current fundraiser and the public Facebook group devoted to Sam’s recovery can be found at the bottom of the navigation menu. Sam’s Instagram account is also there because I’m sure one day he’ll be posting again!
