(Typed from a few days ago in the hospital) Wow, right now I'm completely free. The only machine I have touching my body is on my lap: my mom's laptop. No oxygen, intravenus antibiotics, or sensors. It feels so liberating. I looked in the mirror for the first time yesteday in 3 weeks. I shrunk about 25 pounds, so I'm looking pretty scrawny. As far as I know, my name has been on the prayer rolls for the Timpanogos, Jordan, Logan, Ogden, Provo, Monticello, Salt Lake City and Fiji Temples. The youth in my stake even fasted for me, and that's when my condition started to turn around. Maralee Francis made t-shirts with my face on the back and "WWCAD?" (what would Christopher Andrew do?) on the front. Wristbands were made with my name on them. A two-day fundraiser was held at the Moab Adventure Center selling burgers, wristbands and other things. Several local businesses donated gift certificates, time, money. Ivy Hazlett made a facebook page for me and wrote an article in the Times Independent newspaper. Everything has truly been a blessing. I've needed them. Here's what's happened the past couple weeks:
March 13: I start coughing up blood, but I'm not worried. Things are normal, work, church activities, and even a short mountain bike ride. I'm excited for the Canyonlands Half Marathon in a week. At the end of a ward dinner I get the chills and ask my dad if he can take me home. He checks me out, says it looks like I have pneumonia, and starts me on antibiotics. He and our hometeacher, Mike Arehart, give me a blessing.
March 14: I stay home from church. I'm sleeping in my parent's bedroom.
March 16, 1 am: I did pretty good during the day, but suddenly got worse tonight. Having more trouble breathing. My dad takes me to the hospital.
March 17: Did okay today. Brother Hugentobler, Joe Heywood, and Terri Stucki visit me.
Around 4 am: I'm taken to get an X-ray of my chest. I have to stand up for the X-ray, and I collapse from loss of blood. I always kinda wanted to be able to say that I've passed out, I just didn't imagine it would be that way. Afterward I smiled and chuckled about it. A few minutes later in another room, I was told I was going to be life-flighted to Grand Junction. My mom comes to see me and my dad leaves to pack up a few things and start driving. I feel strangely at peace, and I know everything is going to be alright. I ask my mom to make sure Ivy knows what's happening to me. Then I'm put to sleep, a tube is put down my throat to breath for me, and I'm put on the helicopter.
March 21: My Stake President, Todd Stubbs, tells the youth in third ward that if they pray and fast for me, they can expect a miracle. The youth organize themselves and have a stake-wide fast for me. Many people have already have fasted for me. My condition starts to turn around.
March 26: In my sleep, I pull my breathing tube out of my mouth. They don't put it back in because I'm breathing okay on my own now and they were just about to take it out today anyway. My first memories are like nightmares. Everything is dark and I struggle in bed, finally summoning the strength for a feeble "help". I wake up later with what feels like a machine sewing something inside me. Sounds weird, I know, but that's what it felt like. I cough and and suddenly the hallucination ends. I'm awake now. Looking at all the machines around me and seeing nurses walk by my room I realize I'm in a hospital. I wonder when someone is going to notice me and tell me what I'm doing here and what's going on. I feel very thirsty, but nobody will get me anything to drink because they're worried I'll choke on it. It seems nobody is paying attention to me, and I can't understand why I can't even get out of bed. The sun is shining through my window, and I ask someone what time it is. It's 9:12 am. Every nurse that speaks outside my door sounds like my mom. Finally I see familiar faces, it's Joe Heywood and Ken Ballentyne! I'm so happy to see them. I ask Joe when the Canyonlands Half Marathon is, and he told me it already happened. "What?!" "Yeah, you've been out for two weeks." "Two weeks?!" I can't believe it. I ask him if he has his cell phone on so I can call my parents, but the hospital's machinery gets messed up by them, so no phones. Finally my parents come, and my grandparents are here too. I am so happy to be alive. I get water, and it tastes like water never has before. My tongue feels out of place and my ears ring constantly-I feel like I'm willing myself to live. I plead with God to let me live. I'm not afraid of death, but I know my family needs me. Later my parents and grandparents leave to go where they're staying. I have the weirdest hallucinations.
March 29: Moved out of the ICU. Smaller room makes me feel claustrophobic. Sleeping is uncomfortable. I continue to make lots of progress. I don't need as much oxygen, no more IV fluid, I'm eating all my food, and I'm starting to gain some strength back. I can brush my own teeth and even push the buttons on the TV remote! :P
April 1: I wake up at 3:15 am and can't sleep. I call my mom and tell her to pack up because it's time to go home--I want to get out of here! Despite my eagerness, I can't leave until my doctors come and check up on me later in the morning. Argg! After I sleep some more, the doctors come by, check me out, and say I can go.
Mom brings real clothes, which I put on with difficulty. My pants practically fall off my scrawny waist. I'm wheel-chaired to my grandparents' motor home in the hospital parking lot, where they've been staying the last couple weeks. I sleep all the way to Moab.
When I get home I find an awesome banner on the garage door, signed by a bunch of my friends. Mom takes me over to the MAC (Moab Adventure Center), where my friends are putting on a fundraiser for me. Everyone is wearing my shirts, holding posters, and cooking burgers. It's SO good to see my friends again! Emma (John Clayton's little girl) is adorable. She tells me she loves me and hugs me and blows me kisses. Dallen Dalton is dressed up like a hot dog. I have awesome friends.
Later on, after my second nap of the day, Ivy arrives from BYU! Logan Lewis, Clinton Day, Sherri Day, Ivy, my parents, and I watch "The Blind Side." Afterward Ivy and I have an arm wrestle. Just don't tell anyone she beat me. Dang!
April 3: General Conference! During the first session, the choir sang my favorite hymn, "How Firm A Foundation." Before the Priesthood Session, Jed, Zak, Ivy, Rachel, and Clinton come over. We throw a frisbee around (pretty well, too) and then play a game of Sorry. On our way home from the Priesthood Session, my dad and I stop at City Market, where we run into Brian Hays and Doug Garrett. My dad makes me drive around in one of those stupid wheelchair things, but I keep bumping into food displays. People should have to have a license to drive those things! Before too long, I give up and just leave it. Being in public is strangely confusing and overwhelming. I can't really explain it. We go home and have root beer floats (with cookies'n'cream ice cream, the best). Exhausted, I hit the sack.
April 4: Charlotte and Big Chris come down from Pleasant Grove bringing Anna, Matthew, and Olivia back home. We eat my aunt Charlotte's chicken curry, my absolute favorite food. Although General Conference is great, I'm so tired I sleep through most of it.
April 5: I go to seminary with Saren. It's great. Brother Jackman, Robbie Sweeten, Saren, and I talk about everything from good movies to bad illnesses. I come home exhausted but excited.
April 6: I work on this blog post. Typing is getting easier. Now my fingers go where I tell them to, instead of fumbling around. I can even start practicing the piano again. I drop my college classes and the ACT test that I'm supposed to take Saturday :( Oh well.
From here it's going to be a slow recovery, slowly gaining my strength back. Just walking up stairs gets me out of breath. I want to be working, hiking, biking, and running all at the same time. Frustrating, but with all that's happened so far, I'm sure I'll make it. Relationships with family and friends couldn't be stronger. Thank you all for your amazing support and love. I can't wait to be back (with a normal body, that is)!
The only things I clearly remember from my days of sedation: Get Well card from Saren (signed by a ton of people from school) and a photo of Ivy, Zak, Lily, Clinton, dog Sunny, and me on a hike. Like I said, amazing friends.
So many machines...
