Full video of newscast October 28 -- van fire

Here is the video from the full news cast:   Thank you, Lance West and KFOR-TV.

Aftermath of a miracle

          My husband was in that van, in the power chair inside the van when vehicle and chair caught fire. The lift didn't slant to the driveway. It was straight out from the open door. The chair barely moved onto the lift as my husband propelled himself from the chair and off the lift (about 5 feet above the driveway). A passerby pulled him away from the fire, which was intense.

          Robert had speed-called my cell from his. "Van on fire. 911. Van on fire. 911." I grabbed our cordless land phone, jammed my cell in my pocket, and hysterically told the 911 dispatcher the van was on fire with my husband in it. (Fire is one thing that terrifies me, not scares me, but terrifies me.) As I hurried out the front door, towers of flames greeted me, the power chair, so engulfed in fire I couldn't see if Robert were still in it or not, and smoke and fire blew toward the house. As I went further out, I saw a man pulling Robert away.

          Some tiny part of my mind still worked because I knew I had to move my minivan, which sat next to the burning van in the driveway, its tank almost full of gasoline. Everyone around yelled for me to get away, get away. I told one woman I had to move that van. She told me it wasn't important. I yelled back, "It's going to blow."

          When she said, "Then move it fast." I pointed at the clogged street, jammed with vehicles of gawkers, and asked "how?" She ran into the street and had people moving out of the way. Then she held traffic back so I could move the van.

          All this time, I'm still on the phone with 911, and the dispatcher is telling me to get away from the fire. As I backed out of the drive, I told him, "I am. I'm driving away." I parked a few houses north of ours, but I don't remember walking from the van back to the lawn to the south of our house where people laid Robert. A woman had pulled her minivan beside him and furnished blankets for people to hold above him, to protect him from the sun.

          In time, EMSA arrived, and medics tended to him and to me. I had breathed in heat and smoke. Our son came and took care of questions and forms. The ambulance and EMTs took Robert to the ER at the burn center. Randy drove me, with his wife in her car right behind.

          The doctor at the ER was shocked at Robert's condition, not that it was horrible, but that Robert wasn't a crispy critter. Robert had a bad burn on his right elbow and on the back of his left shoulder. He had other minor burns sprinkled around. His hair was singed. The rims of his ears had minor burns. He had a minor concussion from hitting his head on the concrete. He had some scrapes on one leg. He had a bruise inside one elbow. Later he hurt all over, and his back lets him know it was twisted.

          The doctor said he never knew of anyone, before, who was in a power chair and a fire who had survived.

          Yes, a miracle.

          We don't know the names of the people who helped except for one, a chiropractor who came by that night to check on Robert's condition. Dr. Carver had joined the first man to pull Robert away. Dr. Carver will be honored at the Edmond City Council meeting this Monday, October 24, with a commendation for saving a life. We have no idea who the man who first pulled Robert away might be. If he hadn't braved the flames and heat first, Robert would have been more seriously injured or worse.

All that's left inside

All that is left of his new, especially-made-for-him power chair and lift

           KFOR-TV, Channel 4 in Oklahoma City, interviewed Robert and me the next day and taped the damage. However, the story hasn't aired, at least yet. We hope if and when it does that we'll discover the names of the other good Samaritans who helped Robert that day. 

           I believe in miracles because I've seen them quite often, but September 27, 2011 was definitely one, a major miracle.

Life requires lots of bubble wrap

This past year has been such an emotional roller coaster of fear, hope, despair, prayer, love, and a miracle.

Tuesday, my husband hurt enough he wanted me to get him into the doctor. Took him for an appointment with the PA, who sent him to have a CAT scan. Everything we were told made us know nothing was going to be good, and it wasn't. When we walked in the door, the phone started ringing. The doctor called us himself and told me to get Robert to the ER right then. He had a hernia with a section of the bowel protruding.

Robert's health is not good. He has three or four blockages in his heart and a very weak heart. He wouldn't survive surgery to correct the problems, due to his congestive heart failure. We knew that any surgery would be very risky.

Sure enough, the ER doctor told us a surgeon would be called in, but the outcome could be very fatal -- with or without surgery.

To cut a long, fearful story short, they scheduled him for surgery Thursday morning. He suffered greatly from Tuesday to Thursday. Our sons flew or drove to get here. Two of our granddaughters and a great-grandson stayed close, visiting for long hours.

Thursday before the operation, the surgeon and the anesthesiologist spoke with Robert and family members. They stressed the fact that Robert had only a slim chance of survival. However, not having surgery was as dangerous if not more so.

We discussed the pros and cons, but Robert had to make the final choice. He told us he wanted to still live, but not in that much pain and not able to do anything. He said, if he died, he was ready. He would either see us after surgery or whenever we left this life.

Due to some wise decisions on the part of the two doctors, he didn't have to have general anesthesia, causing less stress on his back. The surgeon came to the waiting room, grinning ear to ear. "It worked."

Robert spent almost two days in ICU because of arrhythmia, but they moved him back to a regular room last night.

He's weak, tires easily, but he's doing remarkably well considering.

We saw a miracle this week.

Thank God.

Our youngest told his dad, "That's seven. You only have two left."