A Chance at Life

A CHANCE AT LIFE:

A True Inspiration

Karen Preston Kerrigan

Copyright 1993, Karen Preston Kerrigan, All rights reserved, Printed in the U. S. A. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 93-91701 Reprinted in www.TheFetus.net by special permission of the author from her web site.

A CHANCE AT LIFE

I was born with limitations, that are sometimes hard to deal with. but along with the limitations, I was given a special gift. I was given the gift of CHANCE, a chance to live, the best way I can. To do the best I can do, even if I may need a helping hand. Sometimes I get scared, and sometimes I start to cry. At times I want to give up, and I don’t even want to try. But soon I begin to realize, that I want to win this fight. I was given this CHANCE AT LIFE, and I want to do it right.

IN APPRECIATION TO: The Children's Hospital, Columbus Ohio, and their staff. And my special Appreciation to Doctors’ Thomas Morse and Eric Fonkalsrud.

MY CONTINUED APPRECIATION TO: The Piqua Memorial Medical Center, their staff, and to Dr. Jack P. Steinhilber, who continues to treat me today.

A SPECIAL THANK-YOU: To the Cardio-pulmonary Rehabilitation Unit at Stouder Hospital. AND ALSO TO: Todd Wion, owner of Wion's Printing, for the donation of his time and services. It is deeply appreciated.

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO MY PARENTS: Who got more than what they expected when they had me. There was no way that they could've been prepared for what lay ahead of them after my birth. My Parents sacrificed and suffered tremendously on my behalf. I Love Them Very Much for giving me the chance to live and never giving up on me. I know that it could not have been easy. Because of my parents, I find the strength to stay positive when things go wrong. I could never give up on myself and my illness, because my parents never gave up on me. THANK YOU MOM AND DAD, I LOVE YOU.

To a couple, expecting a baby is one of the most exciting things that could happen to them. Most couples automatically assume that their baby will be born healthy and with no complications. They're usually not prepared for something to go wrong. When my mother was brought to the hospital on November 26, 1963 to have their third child, they also were expecting a healthy baby, like their two sons who were born previously . I was born November 27, 1963at 12:26 a. m. , and I weighed 5 lbs 11 oz. My parents finally had a little girl. When my first cries were heard everything seemed to be normal, but within a few short hours, everything fell apart. What seemed to be a very happy event, turned out to be one of the worse things that could possibly happen to a couple.

My parent’s newborn baby girl wasn't healthy, she was very sick. The days and nights ahead would soon become like a terrible nightmare. At 7:30 a. m. just seven hours after my birth, I was being prepared to take my very first ride to another hospital for surgery. The hospital would be located in Columbus, OH. which was a two hour drive from Piqua, where I was born. The Children's Hospital was to be one of the best hospitals in the area. My mother was only able to hold me long enough to put my coat and hat on and to kiss me good-bye. Because of not having an ambulance available, I was transported in a hearse, which was driven by the local funeral home director. My father and my mother's sister, who held me during the trip, rode in the car also to the hospital. Mom was left at the local hospital to recuperate from my birth, and to worry about her newborn baby. How could such a happy event turn out to be so tragic!

I finally reached The Children's Hospital at 11:00 a. m. and I was immediately examined by Dr. Thomas Morse. Prior routine examination at birth revealed an imperforate anus and mild respiratory distress. After sometime had passed and following my admission, my aunt and the funeral home director had rode back to Piqua. While they were gone tests were taken which confirmed the prior diagnosis. Tests also confirmed the diagnosis of Dr. Morse, being tracheo-esophageal fistula, (tracheo-meaning windpipe, esophageal- meaning the tube that connects the stomach to the windpipe, and fistula-meaning abnormal passage leading from the surface to an internal cavity). In my case, my windpipe and esophagus were connected to my lung and not to my stomach. I also had no opening in my esophagus.

Eleven hours after my birth, I was taken to the operating room for my very first surgery. During this major operation, my esophagus was reanastomosed (taken from my lung and placed on my side), and a Tube Gastrostomy was performed. I had to eat through this tube instead of being fed orally. The holes in my windpipe and esophagus were repaired, and the Gastrostomy tube was connected to my stomach which allowed me to eat. Along with having the imperforate anus, I was also diagnosed as having a Recto-vaginal Fistula. This meant that along with having no rectal opening (Anus) in the back, it also meant that my rectum was connected to my vaginal area, having only the vaginal opening. This is how the bowel movements were made. Doctors Morse and Fonkalsrud decided to perform a Loop Sigmoid Colostomy, which was placed below the feeding tube. My aunt and uncle came back as soon as they were able, so my father could go back to Piqua to keep my mother informed of my condition. My mother was eventually released from the hospital on the promise that she wouldn't come to the hospital to see me, but she headed down there as soon as she could. I was released on February 6, 1964. I was 2 months of age and I had received four major operations.

My mother was given instructions upon my release in regards to the management of my colostomy and Gastrostomy tube. An appointment was made for my return for more testing in two weeks. My mother was finally able to hold me for the first time, for any length of time, since my birth. At home, we were greeted by my brothers and other family members. My father continued to work as a Mechanic in a family-owned business that was located behind the house we lived in. Mom had her hands full taking care of me and my two brothers, who were ages one and two. Everything seemed alright until February 29, when I was readmitted to Piqua Hospital with marked grunting and respiratory distress. I was taken to the emergency room with wheezing, poor color, and beginning Cyanosis (discoloration of the lips and fingertips). I wasn't able to keep anything down and had become dehydrated and anemic secondary to nutrition. When being fed through the tube, there was regurgitation which also impaired my breathing even more. After the immediate danger had passed, I was again transferred back to The Children's Hospital on March 3, 1964 for further treatment and possible correction of the Tracheo-esophageal Fistula which had already been surgically repaired. When we got to the hospital, I was again examined by Dr. Morse and tests were run to determine what was going on with me. X-rays determined that there was an infiltration and a portion of my right lung had collapsed. On March 5 another test was taken, and results showed a leak at the previous anastomotic site in the esophagus. Because problem continued, I was taken to the operating room and Doctors Morse and Fonkalsrud decided to perform an I&D, along with many more tests. During this stay I had received ten more operations with an unknown number of cut-downs for Intravenous Fluids.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 2 The surgeries consisted of: Bronchoscopy, I&D, Cervical Esophagostomy, Closure of Tracheo-esophageal Fistula (two times), Division and Closure of the Esophagocardiac Junction, Pyloromyoctomy, Esophagectomy, Revision of a Colostomy, and a Right Thoractomy. Mom was again unable to hold me because of the severity of my condition. All she could do was try to comfort me from a distance, while I struggled to survive. I spiked many temperatures throughout the stay, which also prolonged my stay. I was finally released May 28, to go home. By this time, I was 6 months old and had already received 14 major operations. With mom and dad having so much to deal with, emotionally and financially, they had very little quality time to spend with my brothers. While I was being taken back and forth to hospitals, dad continued to work as many jobs as he could, trying to keep up with the bills. My brothers were constantly being watched by family and friends of my parents, and mom spent most of her time with me, at the hospitals. Looking back on what they must have been going through, I don't know how they managed to keep everything together. What once was a normal life, was now full of crisis.

Everyone in my family had to have suffered in one way or another. Mom said there were times that she'd be at the hospital with me for a long time, and the doctors would convince her to go home to spend time with her other family members. They reassured her that if anything happened, they would give her a call immediately. Mom eventually agreed and went home. In keeping their promises, sometimes my parents would get calls in the middle of the night, but that was only when I needed to be taken back into emergency surgery for one reason or another. When that happened, mom and dad quickly found a babysitter and headed toward the hospital. Within two weeks of my last discharge, I was taken back to The Children's Hospital on June 11, for the evaluation of a recurrent fever and weight loss. It was determined that I was dehydrated with a mild infection. After seven days in the hospital, June 18, I was released to go home. I still had the colostomy, but it had been revised. The feeding tube was also still in place.

On July 21, my parents again took me back to the hospital in Columbus to be admitted and evaluated over a five day period and on July 27, I was again taken back into surgery. The surgery was to repair my imperforate anus and my rectovaginal fistula. This proceedure was considered to be a Perineal Anoplasty. I had no anal dimple and my rectal and vaginal areas were combined which is where my bowel movements were made. This surgery consisted of making an anal dimple and the communication between the rectal and the vaginal areas were divided. I came through the surgery very well and was discharged to go home on August 8, 1964. One week later on August 15, I was taken back to the hospital again, to be prepared for my 16th major operation at the tender age of nine months.

This surgery, performed on August 17, my Sigmoid Colostomy was closed and after instructing my parents on how to continue with the anal dilation that now needed to be done, I was dismissed to go home. Another appointment was made for three weeks. According to mom, because of our many visits to The Children's Hospital, I had become well known to the nurses and doctors because I was always put on the same floor. She said that Dr. Fonkalsrud treated me like I was his own daughter. She had said that after arriving to the hospital at times, the doctor would have me out of my room as he carried me in his arms while making his rounds. She said everyone became interested in me because of my many different birth malformations. I was the first baby born with so many different problems. On October 5, 1964 at the age of 10 «months, I was admitted to our local hospital this time. I had a bowel impaction, bronchitis, and I was slightly dehydrated. I was placed on continual enemas and given clear liquids through the feeding tube.

After approximately nine days, I was released from Piqua Hospital and readmitted to The Children's Hospital for six days undergoing repeated dilations of the bowel. I was released to go home on October 21. When November 27, came, I celebrated my first birthday at home. According to the entries in my baby book, many people came over to see me. I was considered to be a Miracle Baby, because the doctors had said that I wouldn't survive the first hour of life. During the year of 1964, I had been admitted to The Children's Hospital six times and had received 16 major operations and numerous cut-downs. I still had no opening between my esophagus and the upper part of my stomach. I was also still being fed through my Gastrostomy tube.

My family had done their best to deal with the financial and emotional roller coaster that my illness had brought on. As everyone still continued to pray for my recovery, I spent my first Christmas at home since my birth.

The holidays of 1964 came and went and I had been well for two months, staying out of the hospitals. When February 8 came, my luck ran out, and I was taken back to the hospital in Columbus and readmitted for Gastroenteritis. This was to be the seventh admission and I was just 14 months of age. I wasn't in the hospital long as I was dismissed again on February 10, just two days later. My parents lived from day to day not knowing if I would survive the next crisis or operation. The doctors from the beginning told my parents that I would not survive, but by some miracle I was still hanging on and so were they. During this time, mom watched me go through a lot of pain. It bothered her to know there wasn't anything she could do to stop the suffering that I was going through. I'm sure it must have been unbearable to see her baby suffer so much. The good days she hung on to, to help her through the bad days. The summer of 1965 was the first summer that I was able to spend at home. My family was finally able to spend some quality time together. I was home for approximately eight months before becoming sick again. On October 16, I was brought back to The Children's Hospital for diarrhea, but I was soon released on October 21. It wouldn't be long before I was once again brought back to the hospital. This time I was to be taken to the local hospital in Piqua and treated for Bronchitis of the trachea. I was treated at Piqua until November 3, in which I was transferred back to Children's Hospital. While I was there I was treated initially for intestinal problems. I had a bowel impaction, pneumonitis and I was evaluated for the revisions of the Esophageal stoma (mouth). However, the esophagus was functioning adequately. After showing significant weight gain I was dismissed to go home December 5. I still had no opening between my esophagus and the upper part of my stomach. My second birthday was to be spent in the Hospital.

Sometime after this admission Doctor Fonkalsrud had left Children's Hospital to go to another. Mom had been told that he went to California, to practice in a Children's Hospital there. Before he had gone, he had written an article on my many difficulties. Mom was promised a copy, but it was never received. Mom told me many stories of Doctor Fonkalsrud and how he had taken me under his wing. Some of the stories were very touching. Even though I never had the pleasure of meeting him, I hold a special place in my heart for the special care he had given me. One of my dreams would be to meet him someday; to let him know that I survived, and to Thank him for doing his part. Christmas of 1965, was spent at home with my family.

The year of 1966 came, and it was off to a good start. I was home for New Year's Day and I was even home to celebrate Easter. My oldest brother had celebrated his fifth birthday on March 30. This summer was going super! My luck had eventually ran out on May 8, as I got sick again and had to be admitted to The Children's Hospital for the 11th time. I was treated for Pneumonitis for seven days and then discharged on May 15. This time I was home for just over two months when I was once again taken back to The Children's Hospital for multiple Pneumonia. This would be one of the longest admissions since 1964, and it would be the 12th admission.

I was admitted for Pneumonia and I had received even more operations consisting of :right Colon Interposition, Gastrostomy and revision of Pyloroplasty. During these operations, from what I understand, on August 8 and opening was made at one end of my esophagus and the colon in my neck. Another opening was made at the other end of my esophagus and my stomach in the abdomen. I was treated with Penicillin intravenously, Streptomycin intramuscularly, and later treated with Erythromycin for the Pneumonia. I continued to have the Pneumonia, because it was unresponsive to the mechanical techniques and the medications.

On September 30, I was taken back to the operating room in which a Pyloroplasty (a valve at the end of the stomach which controls the entry of food to the small intestine) tube was threaded through my feeding tube to the middle of my small intestine and my esophagus was joined to my colon and my stomach, so I could now be fed orally for the very first time. After this operation I was placed in the Intensive Care Unit. The Intensive Care Unit was considered for the babies who were, in the doctors' opinions, definitely not going to survive. When my mother realized where they had taken me, she said that it was like someone had ripped her heart out! She went to the level I was always on and when the elevator door opened she seen "my nurse." When she saw her, mom broke down into tears. She begged the nurse to have them put me back on "my level. " She said if I were going to die, she wanted me to be with people who knew and cared for me. She didn't want me to be with strangers, in an unfamiliar place. Mom's fears must have really made an impact on the nurse, because she was able to convince the right people. Special arrangements were made, and I was brought back to "my level. " As mom was telling me this story, she still became very emotional and upset. I couldn't believe that they cared enough about my mother and me to make special arrangements just for us. It wasn't until I heard that story, that I realized how traumatic it must have been for my mother. I was finally released on October 25, three months after my admission. I was two years of age and I now had a count of 19 major operations and numerous more cut-downs.

The year of 1966 had passed and I had just turned three years old. My oldest brother would be in Kindergarten and my youngest brother would be four years old. Soon after the New Year came, I became sick again and was taken to the local hospital. I was admitted January 7 for pneumonia, this admission would be number 13 for me I was having difficulty breathing, Cyanosis ( discoloration of the lips, fingernails, and toes) had begun, and I had ran a temperature of 103 F. for the past 48 hours. I was treated for Pneumonia, and released approximately seven days prior to admission, with the diagnosis of Acute Bronchopneumonia and extensive Bronchitis. In August of 1967 my parents had their fourth baby. The baby girl was born healthy and with no complications. The rest of the year passed without any hospitalizations or crisis. The year of 1968 came and on March 20, I was taken back to The Children's Hospital in Columbus and admitted for constipation. The admission didn't last long and I was released soon after on March 26. Just a few days after my release, my oldest brother celebrated his seventh birthday. He was entering into the First grade as my younger brother headed into Kindergarten. The rest of the year ended with no further hospitalizations.

As1969 came, I was getting ready for some changes. My condition was improving and we eventually moved from Piqua, to a small village in the country. The village’s name was Lockington, this is where and when I would start school. The school year began in August so a few months before then, mom took me to become registered. I remember the doors to the building be so big and heavy, I couldn't reach them or open them alone.

I can still remember my Kindergarten teacher. She was very nice and I always refer to her as one of my favorite teachers. Her name was Mrs. Ware and she made me feel at ease and unafraid. I also remember the room and what it looked like. It had long tables with very little chairs. The thing that caught my eye though, was all of the toys. It was like going into a toy store. After that day, I couldn't wait to begin school. The principal on the other hand, told my mom he didn't think I was ready for school. He wanted me to be held back for a year. Mom was upset by his comment, so my doctor in Columbus was contacted. The doctor said that I was able to go, so mom sent me! Mom thought the principal didn't want me to go because I was to small, and I needed more help than the other kids. When school began, most of the time I rode with another kid in the village. His name was Bill and his mom and my mom would take turns taking us.

Today Bill and I still see each other once in a while, he just moved back into the village from what I hear. I did have some problems however, I think the biggest problem was getting on the bus to go home. We had one bus driver who risked her job to help me. She would stop the bus, put on the brake, leave her seat, go down the steps to carry me on or off whichever was needed. I still remember exactly what she looked like and her name. She was the only bus driver to help me. When school ended in August of 1970, I was passed on to the First Grade. In July of the same year, my parents had their fifth and final baby. She was also born healthy with no complications. Our family now consisted of two boys and three girls.

CHAPTER 4: 1971-1976

Now school would be different, because I would go a full day. I would also have to ride the bus more often. As the school year progressed I made some friends, but one friend became very special. Her name was Jonna, and she helped constantly as long as we were in the same class. She helped me to get in and out of the restroom, she helped me to get drinks from the drinking fountain, and she helped me carry my books when needed. Today we are still good friends. I don't know what I would've done without her all those years. I also remember one time in the second grade, when I missed my bus because I got stuck in the restroom. I knew that it was about time to go home, but I had to go to the restroom. Someone was there to open the door to let me in, but when it came time to get out that someone left! I heard the principal calling out the bus numbers as they arrived, and I knew I was in trouble. By the time I got out of the restroom, and out to get on my bus, it was pulling out of the driveway. I was so scared, I thought I was going to have to stay there all night, I started to cry. My teacher came and asked me what was wrong and I told her. She called my mom and comforted me until mom came. From that day on, I never went to the restroom at the end of the day again!

At home, I had no special treatment. If I needed help with something, I had to try on my own first. Mom didn't want me to grow up to be helpless. My visits to The Children's Hospital continued, because I needed routine examinations. The check-ups began on a six-month basis, but was eventually decreased to annual check-ups Each time mom and i went, I was able to ask someone to go with us to keep mom company. I usually got to choose who I © 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 5 wanted to go, and we always went out to eat going to and coming from the hospital. Needless to say, that was the high-point of the trip. The hospital was two hours away and it was so big, it took all day from the time we left the house until the time we got back home. My examinations were very thorough. I was examined internally and externally, including rectally. I grew up taking enemas almost every night along with Mineral Oil or Kaopectate, whichever was needed at the time. Because of my digestive problem, I had to sleep elevated straight up every night, and unable to eat two hours before bedtime. That is still the case today. I still became sick with Pneumonia, and all of the things kids get when they are young. But aside from that things went real well.

In 1976 I entered into the Sixth Grade. I left Elementary School and went to the High School. The school was much bigger with more kids and teachers. We had more homework, books to carry, and we had to change classes. We also had to take Physical Education in which I hated because the kids made fun of me. I couldn't run as fast, hit the ball in baseball, do as many sit-ups etc. as they could. I eventually withdrew and became very shy, keeping to myself. At the end of the school year I was passed on to the Seventh Grade. I had the summer to look forward to.

CHAPTER 5: 1977-1982

Jr. High wasn't as bad as the Sixth Grade, because I would still be in the same school, with the same classmates basically. The only big difference would be the amount of homework, and the number of classes that were to be taken. The classes and the material was much harder and I studied as best as I could. It seemed however, as much as I studied I still only received an average grade on things. I was once again confronted with taking Physical Education class. This year we had to change for the class everyday. Until then no one had seen my scars, but my family and I. Now I was faced with having to hide them from the girls in my locker room. Everyday I would try to be the first in the locker room, to be dressed before they arrived so they wouldn't see them. Sometimes I would pretend I was using the restroom, so I could change in private . There came a day, when I wasn't so lucky. I was forced to get changed in the open, and my fears became real. One of the girls had seen my scars and asked me what had happened. Since I didn't know myself, at that point, I told her I didn't know. When she asked that question the other girls heard her, and came to look. I was upset for the rest of the day. When I got home, I asked my mom what happened to me. I told her the girls in my class seen my scars and asked me what happened. She told me to tell them that I was very sick when I was born, and I was a Million-dollar baby. I still never really understood, but she made me feel much better.

When I got to school the next day, I told the girls exactly what mom had said. As the years went on, school became more difficult. I had to begin speaking in front of the whole class for book reports and speeches. I didn't like doing this either, because every time I would speak something was said about my voice. I was always asked if I had Laryngitis or a cold. I was teased in school and I was called a mouse because, according to one boy, my voice squeaked liked one. I never understood why people acted this way, because I thought I sounded normal. But talking soft had its good points also, sometimes I got out of reading or speaking aloud, because the teacher also assumed I had Laryngitis or a cold. I eventually began going to slumber parties and sleep-overs. I only stayed with my closest friends, because they never questioned me about my voice, or my scars. They accepted me as I was, even though they probably had their questions also. The only question that would come up, would be the number of pillows that I needed for the night. If I felt secure enough in the friendship, I would tell them as much as I could about myself. I continued to go to the hospital for check-ups, but as the years passed I was only hospitalized once or twice for pneumonia. 1980 - In July of this year I was 16. I became sick again so I was taken back to The Children's Hospital. During this time, I was treated for Bronchitis, tested for allergies, and finally tested for my voice. I was finally going to find out why I spoke the way I did. The allergy tests came back negative, my bronchitis had cleared up and the results of my vocal cord testing came back. The doctor discovered I had a paralysis of the left vocal cord. After discovering the problem, the doctor told mom that he could make me talk louder with surgery. In doing the surgery, a piece of Teflon would be placed between the vocal cords. By doing this, the sound of my right vocal cord would bounce onto the Teflon, which would act as my left vocal cord to produce a louder voice. Mom agreed to the surgery, so on August 5, I went back into the operating room. The surgery lasted approximately half an hour, and I was eating popcorn that very same night. I was dismissed two days later on August 7, talking louder than before! When I went back for my check-up, the doctor decided that my voice could be even louder, so one again mom agreed to the same procedure. This time it didn't go as well, and I became sick. There was difficulty with the induction of the anesthesia and my waking up. I ran a slight fever, and I couldn't keep anything down. This time there was no change in my voice and my mother refused to let them do the surgery again.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 6 1982 I was getting ready for one of the biggest accomplishments of my life. Graduation! I finally made it through school, and on May 23, 1982 I received my diploma. That was the one thing, that I wasn't too confident about. Suddenly, I was all grown up and about to do grown-up things like getting a job! Shortly after graduation, I got a job in a local restaurant making salads. The restaurant was a smorgasbord and they were busy most of the time. I worked part-time, still living with my parents. I payed rent to them and my long distant telephone call. Sometimes paying for them would take most of my check, because my boyfriend lived in Piqua, which was long distance. My parents let me drive their car to work, so for the first time I felt like a real adult.

I had been seeing my boyfriend and working at the restaurant for over one year. One evening, while at work, I was getting ready to clock out to go home, when my boss came and told me that I had to stay until 10:00 p. m. instead of 7:00 p. m. as scheduled. I didn't like the idea at all, but I had no choice. Being on a Friday night the restaurant was very busy, people were standing in line waiting to get in! As I finally found somewhere to sit, I looked at the long line and saw Tim standing there in a three-piece suit. I couldn't believe what I saw, he only wore that for special occasions! Not knowing the occasion, he and his mother came over and sat down beside me. I asked what was going on, and he reached in his pocket and pulled out a present. By this time I started to get nervous, and he told me to open the box. I couldn't believe my eyes! There in the box was the prettiest diamond ring I had ever seen! I asked him if that meant he wanted to get married, because with him you never know. He said "yes" and I said "yes" and it was official! There I was on break, in clothes that smelled like salads, getting engaged to a guy that always swore that he'd never get married. I was speechless, and I was late getting back to work, but I didn't care at that point. That topped the talk of my co-workers for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER 6: 1984-1985

Tim and I had been going together for just six months, when we celebrated the new year of 1984. Tim and I had been together at the beginning of the day, he had brought me home so he could help someone move. I wanted to go along, but he wouldn't let me, which left me suspicious.

As I was getting ready for bed that evening the telephone rang at 9:00 p. m. I was hoping that it would be Tim, so I answered the telephone. I wasn't prepared for the events that were about to take place. The voice on the other end was Tim's mother. I can still remember her exact words, "Karen, Tim has been in an accident and you better come to the hospital as soon as you can. " She wouldn't comment on the seriousness of the accident, but I knew it was serious. I heard a fear in her voice that I'd never heard before. I immediately became upset and tried to tell my parents what had happened. They were in bed, but mom got up and ready so she could take me. When we arrived at the hospital, we were joined by his mother, sister, brothers and a few of their friends. Tim had just arrived by ambulance and they were getting him ready to be transported to Miami Valley in Dayton, Ohio. This hospital is one of the best local hospitals, with much more ability for critical patients. I knew right then this was a matter of life and death! When he was stabilized only his mother was able to see him before being transported. He was transported by Careflight (Medical Emergency Helicopter) to the hospital, as my mom drove his mom, his sister and I to the hospital.

The drive was approximately a 45-minute drive, but it seemed like forever. Upon arriving to that hospital, we were greeted by the Chaplin who led us to where Tim would be. As Tim was being prepared for surgery, the doctor that examined came out to talk to his mother. He had told her they didn't think he would make it through the night, but if he did it would still be touch and go. He allowed Tim's mother to go see him, and when she came back out she was very pale. She said I wouldn't have been able to handle seeing him in his condition. He was operated on from 10:30 p. m. until 6:30 a. m. The whole time I prayed for the best, as I cried fearing the worst.

When surgery was over, the doctor came out to tell us the situation. He said Tim tore his right hip off from his tailbone to the center of his right leg. He tore the sciatic nerve, which meant his right foot would be paralyzed. He would need a brace to walk. He also tore his rectum, and he was given a colostomy. I will never forget the first time I seen him since the accident. He was very swollen, he had tubes coming in and out of his body and he was on a stomach pump. I felt like mom must have felt, when I was so sick. Tim recovered and eventually was released from the hospital three weeks later.

While Tim was still in the hospital, and the danger had passed I expressed my feelings at that time and put them on paper.

THE ACCIDENT I was sitting alone, They took him by Careflight, when I got the call because of the emergency. They said "Come to the hospital, And as soon as he got there, because something is wrong. " he went to surgery.

"It's your boyfriend," they said, The night was long, "He's been in an accident. and we all were exhausted. "He's hurt really bad. All I kept thinking was, So that's where I went. if I were to lose him.

I asked how it happened, When surgery was over, but no one was there. and the next day had come. All they knew was, The doctor said critical, he was bleeding everywhere. and the fight had just begun.

The hospital had to transport, Time has passed now, he’s out of danger. because he was hurt so bad. Tim had won the fight. He needed more equipment And I'd like to thank everyone, than what they had. who supported me on that night.

The hospital told us where he would go as my eyes filled with tears. I knew if he's headed for Dayton, there was reason for fear.

Six months after the accident on June 2, 1984 Tim and I were married!

Within weeks after our marriage, I found out that I was pregnant. It seemed that all of my dreams had come true. We were married, we had our own apartment and were expecting our first baby. Ten weeks into the pregnancy however, I miscarried. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It happened at 8:00 a. m. , and I had been in pain all night the night before. I had to wake Tim up and tell him what had happened. I was devastated, and I'm sure he was also. We dealt with the loss on the assumption that it was nature's way of telling me something was wrong with the baby, so we decided we could try again later. Before the year ended, tests confirmed that I was pregnant three more times all resulting in miscarriages. I had never been told that I could never have a child, so I didn't realize or suspect that something was wrong, other than financial or emotional strain.

In the year of 1985 Tim and I had moved to a different home and he had a different job. I was still working at the same restaurant as before we were married. I had begun missing a lot of days at work, due to the miscarriages and again battling pneumonia. Because of the many days that I had missed, the restaurant had let me go. Before they let me go, they agreed to unemployment compensation on my behalf. My birthday was the last day on the job.

In May of 198, I was hospitalized with pneumonia once again. My local doctor, Dr. Steinhilber, had contacted a Pulmonary Specialist because something was different than before. The specialist put me through Pulmonary testing to confirm his suspicions. The tests came back and his suspicions were accurate. They had shown that I had COPD(Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, Emphysema). I was to the point that I was taken off of work permanently, filing for Disability. After learning about my disease I was very scared. I had always assumed that Emphysema was a "smokers disease" and since I had never smoked I couldn't understand my situation. I immediately assumed I wasn't going to live very long. I was also relieved to know that there was a legitimate reason for my missing work. Upon my release, approximately two weeks later, I was given a breathing machine. I was to take treatments to prevent any lung infection

Tim and I had not been married one year yet, before our second crisis. In November of 1985, after being hospitalized three times since my diagnosis, I found out that I was again pregnant. Not realizing the extent or seriousness of my health, I was very happy to be given another chance to have a baby. When I told Dr. Steinhiler the good news, he sharply pointed out to me, that I would not be able to carry the baby to term. He made an appointment for me to consult with him on the matter. Dr Steinhilber was the doctor who brought me into this world, and he knew everything about my medical history. But there was one thing that never came up, my ability to have children. He said he didn't know that there would ever be a problem, because my doctors in Columbus never discussed the matter. He proceeded to inform me, that because of my COPD, I had no chance for the baby or I to survive. He advised me to terminate the pregnancy. I could not believe what I was hearing. There I sat in the room, faced with having to terminate a pregnancy that I desperately wanted with all of my heart. How could I possibly do such a terrible thing? After I left his office, even though he'd been my doctor for so long, I decided to get a second opinion.

I wasn't going to give up, I was going to find someone, somewhere to give my baby and I at least a small chance of survival! I went to another doctor hoping for that chance. I walked in there thinking, even if the percentage rate is second to none, I would take that chance. Again, this doctor said the same thing. When I left the doctor's office, a date for the termination procedure was scheduled. The appointment was set for three weeks. Before the termination was about to take place, I was once again hospitalized for pneumonia. I was still emotionally devastated over what had happened the past two weeks. Knowing that I was pregnant, I had to be given x-rays and medications. In my heart, I knew the baby could not stand such things.

I was released from the hospital one week before the termination was to take place. I was confused, doubting my faith, and doubting myself. I couldn't understand why, after everything that I've been through already, I had to go through something like this. Still not wanting to accept what the two doctors had told me, just days before the procedure was about to take place, I cancelled the appointment. I was put in contact with a specialist in the matter of high-risk pregnancies. I knew that if he couldn't help me, there was nothing else left to do. I knew this would be my last chance, so I was hoping for the best.

Denise, a very good friend of mine, took me to the doctors office, I walked in there with high hopes and in good spirits. I was confident that this doctor knew something the others didn't. When I was called into the room, I waited for the doctor to come in. I was very nervous and I wanted the whole thing to be over as soon as possible. The doctor finally walked in while reading my medical records. The first question he asked me was, "Why did you get pregnant?" I was stunned! He continued on with, "didn't you know that you couldn't carry a baby?" I told him no one ever told me that, and if I had known, I would've had taken the precautions to prevent this from happening. Through this, he continued , with no regards to my feelings and with no sympathy, by saying "If you continue with this pregnancy, you and your baby would not survive." When I left his office, I was so upset. I couldn't even tell Denise what had happened, but I think she knew. For the third time, the opinion was the same. There was nothing else for me to do. There was no alternative but to terminate the pregnancy.

I was supported by everyone. Tim said he'd rather have me than to try to do something that would result in my life being taken away. I called the next day and made another appointment for as soon as possible. January 6, 1986 was the day of the termination. Tim and I went, along with my father, who took us. We had to be there at 8:00 a. m. and we would not leave until 3:00 p. m. There were approximately 25 girls there, of which all were having a good time. I couldn't figure out how they could be so happy. I was the only one devastated over what going to happen to me. That day was the worst day of my life. I walked out of there with an emptiness that is indescribable! I will never forget that day. Six weeks after the termination, surgery was done to make sure that I would never become pregnant again. I continue to live everyday with the memory of what happened, doing my best to accept it.

After realizing that it was medically necessary in time, the painful memory of that day lessened. In order to forgive myself, I had to ask the question, "Did I make the right decision, based on the circumstances?" I believe that I did, and I have been able to accept it as the right choice for me, enabling to forgive myself. I © 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 9 still remember every minute of that day, but I can only write or talk about it because I might be able to help other women in the same situation. The loss of a child, no matter how old, is devastating. I had to grieve for our baby just like others do, when they lose their child. I continued to be hospitalized about every six months. My length of stay was anywhere from two to three weeks. With each bout with pneumonia, my disease worsened. Tim and I had only been married five years and had already gone through more than most couples in a lifetime. He stuck by me all of the way, even as he was having his own difficulties. We had our problems, but we always managed to get through them. It's hard to imagine myself without him.

CHAPTER 6: 1990-1993

I began to have more problems with my breathing, and female problems. I was in continuous pain, with bleeding. Because of this I began to lose more weight. This had gone on for about two months when the doctor decided, because of the Emphysema, I needed to have a hysterectomy. In August of 1990 I was admitted to Piqua Hospital for the surgery. I was in and out in five days. The hysterectomy would be my final surgery to date. I now have a total of 36 operations, with 32 of them being before the age of five. All of the operations before the age of five were considered as major, and the remaining of them were minor.

1992

Things weren't going very well. Tim and I began to have problems. He began to drink heavily as my health was not doing so well. I was feeling very insecure because I had nothing to do all day, except wait for Tim to come home. One he got home, we'd end up fighting and he'd leave again. I had to much free time on my hands. I began to get jealous of Tim for having things to do. I felt worthless and useless. Denise suggested I should try doing some volunteer work at our local hospital. I had thought about it for sometime, but kept from doing it. I decided though in February, that I would give it a try. I was the best thing that I've ever done! It made me feel good about myself, and it gave me something to look forward too. I meet a lot of different people, and I had already known most of the staff due to my illness. I greet the visitors of the patients and give them information as to where they want to go. Tim and I moved back to the village where I grew up and went to school. We now live two houses down from my parent’s house. We have a country home now instead of an apartment in the city, something I've wanted since I moved away.

1993

February of this year, I was hospitalized again. I then learned that my lung capacity has greatly diminished. I had previously been on nightly oxygen since 1992, but I was now put on a portable unit also. I still have my good days and bad days, but like my mom I hold on to the good days to get me through the bad ones. And try to always keep good thoughts with a positive attitude, because I know, no matter how bad I am there's always someone who's worse. There are times, I admit, when I want to give and stop fighting when I get sick. But I know that if I do that, then everything my parents and doctors' fought so hard for, would've been for nothing. I can't and won't let them down like that! Everyday I live, is one more day they can be proud of what they've done for me. Today, I continue to volunteer at the hospital. I also write poetry. I began writing in high school and have kept it up through the years. I have included my poetry for your enjoyment. I hope that my story inspires others to continue to fight for their health, because I am living proof that THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE!

MY WORLD IN POETRY

Promises Of Love Remember The Times On this very special day, I lay awake at nights, I pledge my love for you. thinking of me and you. With every breath I take, I think of all of the things, and in everything I do. that we’ve been through.

I promise to love you, Remember when we met? like I never have before. I’ll never forget that night. I promise to make you proud, We were both sitting alone, and to keep our love secure. with no one in sight.

I promise to always be there, Remember our first date? when you need me to be. I was a little scared. I promise to give you time alone, I wasn’t quite sure, if that is what you need. how much you really cared.

I promise to hold you, And remember when you asked, without holding to tight. if I would like to go steady? I promise to be more understanding, I said “yes” anxiously, when things don’t go just right. because I was more than ready.

I give to you these promises, Remember all of the little things, with every piece of my heart. that happened in between? Loving and wanting only you, All of the “I love you’s” we said, until death do we part. and “you’re all that I need’s”.

Do you remember when you gave me my ring? I was excited then, because it was a surprise to me.

Remember all of these times, and believe me when I say. I love you more than anyone, and with you I will always stay.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 11 If I could My Love I Give If I could change one thing about us, My love I give, I would change the past. to you my heart. I’d take away the hurt, But I think you’ve know that, and replace it with laughs. from the start.

I’d take away the tears, I really love you, and repair our broken hearts. you know that’s true. I’d take away the loneliness, You’ve made my life, and make sure we never drift apart. so happy and new.

I’d take away the misery, There’s just one more thing, and replace it with pleasure. before I’m through. I’d give you more to hold on to, I want you to know, things only you and I could treasure. I think the world of you.

I’d take away the doubt, that has entered into our lives. Feelings And replace it with the knowledge, of a love that’s still alive. When I saw you first, you were with a friend. I never really knew, what my feelings were back then.

Is It Right But as I got to know you, Is it right to dream, my feelings seemed to change. about things that won’t come true? I’ve never felt this before, And is it right to live, and it’s really kind of strange. when you feel your life is through? I didn’t know how you felt, Is it right to cry, so I kept my feelings inside. when you feel sad? And as time passed on, And is it right to hold on, my feelings became harder to hide. to what you never had? But now the time has come, Is it right to need someone, to tell you how I feel. when they’re not even there? I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Is it right to love someone, and I think this love is real. when they don’t even care?

Is it right to love you, when you don’t feel the same? Is it right to want you, or is it just a game?

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 12 If Ever They Say If you tell me you love me, They say you don’t love me, I’ll tell you the same. as much as I love you. If ever you need me, They say you don’t care. just call my name. and they say that we’re through.

If ever you’re lonely, They say you don’t need me, just hold out your hand. and that you never will. I promise to hold it, They say you left me, as soon as I can. because your love isn’t real.

If ever you need held, They say that it’s hopeless, and I’m not around. and that I should understand. Just think of my love, They say I should find someone else, and I won’t let you down. because you’re not the right man.

If ever you feel sorrow, But how would they know, and you begin to cry. exactly how you feel. Just remember that I Love You, And how do they know, to help you dry your eyes. that your love isn’t real?

When I’m Alone As I sit here, in this lonely place. As I sit and stare, I just see your face.

As I lay in the dark, with you on my mind. I think of our love and wonder if it’s right.

And when I’m thinking, I think of us together. And hope that our love, will last forever.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 13 If To Find The Beauty If I said I Love You, To find the beauty, what would you say? you must look within. Would you say the same, For that is where, or would you walk away? the soul begins.

If I said I need you, To find the beauty, what would you do? you must look beyond. Would you push me off, The exterior surface, or would you need me too? of each and everyone.

If I said I cared, To find the beauty, what would happen then? inside of yourself. Would something special happen, Sometimes you’ll see the poverty, or would we just stay friends? before you see the wealth.

If I said these words to you, But eventually you’ll see, where would we be? as so many have already. Would we be any closer, That deep within your heart, or would it just be a dream? lies all of your beauty! ME!

I’m not the person, My Gift To You that you want me to be. But I am who I am, My gift to you Seth, And I can only be me! you’ll need all of your life. The gift of Support is yours, I try to give, thought wrong and through right. the things that I’ve got. And try to make people happy, To believe in yourself completely, when I know they’re not. and to follow your dreams. I’ll be there to support you, So please don’t condemn me, for as long as you need. or expect to much from me. Because I’m only one person, Knowing that you’re not perfect, and I can only be Me! and that you will make mistakes. My support will always be there, if other should turn away.

But along with my support, I give to you my love. Hoping to make your life easier, when things become rough.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 14 Don’t Be Afraid A Prayer For Kaitlyn When you cried your first tear, Dear Lord in heaven, when you waved your first good-bye. I come to you. When you took your very first step, With a Prayer for Kaitlyn, when you ate your first big bite. to read upon, her whole life though.

Although you can’t remember, I ask you to help me, you’ve already begun to learn. as she grows in life. And as long as you’re not afraid, To understand her feelings, you will always have a turn. and to do what’s right.

Don’t be afraid to dream, Together we can reassure her, and don’t be afraid to fail. when she isn’t sure of herself. Because along with the sunshine, We can give her the confidence, there will be a little hail. she’ll need to excel.

Don’t be afraid to ask, We can be her strength, if you can’t do it alone. when she’s feeling weak. Because you will always need help, We can help her find, no matter how much you’ve grown. what she longs to seek.

Don’t be afraid to say no, And with all of the things, if it doesn’t seem right. Kaitlyn will encounter. And don’t be afraid to pray, Please keep her safe, if you begin to lose sight. when her loved ones aren’t with her.

But most important Sarah, when things become rough. Without You Don’t be afraid, because you will always be loved. When I need confidence, you’re my inspiration. When I seem lost, you point me in the right direction.

When I get upset, you ease the pain. When I feel there’s nothing to lose, you show me there’s more to gain.

When I begin to lose control, you reach to take my hand. You help me through my problems, until I’m back in command.

You help me with so many things, and yet sometimes I seem to forget. Without you by my side. I would have never made it.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 15 Dear God Pray To God Hello God, When your having trouble, It’s me again. and have nothing to do. I have a favor to ask, Pray to God, a favor for a friend. he’ll see them through.

You see, he’s more than a friend, When your feelings are mixed, more than a friend could be. down in your heart. Because he’s a part of my life, Pray to God, and a part of me. it’s a good place to start.

But something has happened, When you’re feeling lonely, he’s made a big mistake. and there’s no one to care. So now they want to take him. , Pray to God, somewhere for a very long stay. he’s always there.

So here’s the favor, And when you need to talk, that I’ve been talking about. but there’s no one around. Would you be a friend, Pray to God, and help us out. he’ll hear every sound.

Could you find it in your heart, to keep us together? Love To My Sister Can you keep him from this place, because I need him forever. When we were young, we always seemed to fight. Thank-you God, We called each other names, for listening in. until one of us would fight. And Thank-you for helping me, and for just being my friend. I always said that I hated you, and you’d say the same to me. It seemed like an everyday occasion, but there was something we couldn’t see. Only He Knows A little boy, Love was there inside of us, at the age of four. something we couldn’t admit. Taken suddenly away, And because it wasn’t easy to say, by the lord. we found ourselves ignoring it.

Then a baby, Well, it still isn’t easy, got the call. to tell you that I Love You. Not very old, And now that you’re leaving, no reason at all. it’s even harder to do.

I know that it’s hard, But I really do love you, to lose someone you love. and I really do care. To let them go, I wish you all of my best, for that someone above. and that your goals are achieved there.

But there’s a reason, that only he can know. For taking our loved ones, with only memories to show.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 16 When We Were Young What Happened Ever since I can remember, Remember when you said, we never could agree. that you’d love me forever? I was always yelling at you, Something went wrong, and you were always hitting me! and now we’re not together. What Happened? And sometimes when we were given something, It never seemed to cease. Before you left me, That whenever we divided it, things were great. you’d take the biggest piece. But now that you’re back, we had to separate. But of everything that we’ve been through, What Happened? nothing compares to this. In spite of all of our problems, I called you one night, you’re still my baby sis! and you said we were through. You said it wasn’t my fault, you said it was because of you. My Wedding Day What Happened?

I’ve practiced the words, Even though we’re through, so many times. and we’re still good friends. Hoping for the day, There’s just one little thing, when I could say the lines. that I don’t understand.

Dreaming of the day, when I’d meet the man. Who would love me enough, What happened? to want to take my hand. Let go and grow So many things, When you came to me, in one’s life. you changed my life. Are hard to accept, And I was so happy, and yet easy to deny. when you asked me to be your wife. When you fall in love, And now the time has come, you think that it’s forever. for me to say “I do”. But that’s not always the case, And we can be together, and it’s not always “together” our whole lives through! Although there’s still love, and you both still care. Your Special Day Sometimes it just stops working, You chose today to become man and wife, and the feelings are no longer shared. to share together each other’s lives. You chose today to express your love, But when it’s finally over, in front of family, friends, and God above. it becomes time to let you go. Learn from your experience, So as you take each others’ hands, and continue to grow. and place upon them wedding bands. May the Lord bless you wedding day, and keep you both as happy as you are today.

© 2000 Karen Preston Kerrigan 17 Please Don’t Leave Chemical Addiction We used to be so good together, It starts out very slowly, we used to be so tough. like every now and then. But now you always leave, But without even realizing it, when things become rough. the vicious cycle begins.

You walk through the door, You’ve become addicted, saying “it’s over, Good-bye”! and you need more and more. While I sit here alone, You begin doing everything you can, trying hard not to cry. to keep your supply in store.

You make it even harder, Your life becomes unmanageable, every time you walk away. your actions are uncontrollable. Because you take a piece of my heart, So striking out at everyone, with every step you take. becomes the only thing you know.

Why can’t you be stronger, As it’s controlling your mind, just like you used to be. you feel like no one cares. Why can’t we fix it together, Because you don’t understand, and return to you and me. that there’s an illness there.

You feel scared and helpless, Now That You’re Gone with nowhere to run. But if you really want help, Now that you’re gone, it can be done. my life has shattered. And I often ask myself, There are people who care, if it really matters. people who understand. Because they’ve been there also, You’ve brought me the happiness, and at one time, they needed a friend. that I’ve never seen. You were a part of my life, and a part of me. When I Need A Friend So now I’ll follow my heart, When I need a friend, the only thing to do. you’re always there. Hoping to find the happiness, When I need some help, that I had found with you. you seem to care.

When I need to talk, you’re always around. When I’m unhappy, you ease the frown.

when I’ve got a problem, or a worry or two. I can count on you, to help me through.

Thank-you for caring, and believing in me. You’re all I want in a friend, and you’re all I’ll ever need.

I wanted so much to give you something, that truly came from the heart. Something that you’d remember, Friendships even though we’re miles apart. The best part of starting school, is making a lot of friends. I wanted to give you something, And thinking that our friendships, only a best friend would give another. will never have to end. Something that no one else, could ever possibly discover. And the worst part of being a Senior, is saying your last good-bye’s. So I went to the stores, Holding in your sorrow, and I looked down every aisle. and trying not to cry. But I just couldn’t find anything, so I went home for a while. Thanks for all of the laughter, and all of the memories we’ve shared. But now I begin to realize, there isn’t anything, Thanks for being the friend, that I could ever buy. who always seemed to care. To express my true feelings, of how I feel inside. So when school is out, and our graduation day is through. For nothing is a valuable, When I think of all of my friends, as your friendship is to me. I will always think of you. And you can’t put a price tag,

I would like to take this opportunity to thank-you for taking the time to read something that means so much to me. I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading my story and poetry.

I want to take this opportunity also to thank all of my friends who gave me the courage and inspiration to tell my story. My special thank-you’s go to my closest friends who have helped me through so much: Denise Langston Reece and Melissa Shortridge.