Easter pictures

It's a measure of how hectic things have been that we haven't even gotten any new pictures up lately. Well, here's some! These are from Easter.

Before I get to them, though, an update on Hannah. She is up to 17 pounds, 6 ounces! Yay! We have also started using a medication someone in one of our online support groups suggested for granulation tissue. It's called diprosone. It's amazing stuff! Some of you have looked at the earlier picture of granulation tissue. We'll soon post a new picture that shows what diprosone can do. It is obviously much better for Hannah. She doesn't squirm now when we put her feeding tube in, and she doesn't struggle when we clean the stoma, so that tells me that she can feel what is happening with that granulation tissue, even though the medical folks say they can't.

Anyhow, here are the pictures.

When the going gets tough, the tough take a nap.





Look out, Easter Bunny. There's a new kid in town, ready to take over.

We got word just a few minutes ago that Zach's dad passed away today.

For those of you who don't know, Zach's dad has lived in a group home for about 13 years because of brain damage he sustained in a helicopter crash.

I didn't know him very well. I came into their family some years after the accident. I visited with him a few times, sometimes when Zach would go visit.

But I know this much about him. In his own way, he was a quiet hero.

You see, he was piloting the helicopter that crashed. Craig loved being a pilot. He faced several challenges in order to achieve that dream--like, for instance, he was unable to serve in the military, and so didn't get the advantage that many pilots of his generation received in terms of flight training. He did it on his own, paying out lots and lots of his own money. When he needed eye surgery, he had to get a special waiver from the FAA to be able to continue flying. He did whatever he had to for that waiver so he could continue flying.

The helicopter service he flew for has operated taking tourists for aerial tours over the Great Smoky Mountains for 20+ years with only two accidents. His was one of them, through no fault of his own. Let's just say there were maintenance issues that surfaced later. Regardless, while conducting a tour with passengers on board, the rear rotor stopped working.

If you know anything about basic physics, you know a helicopter has a rotor on the rear because the torque of the main blade tends to make the helicopter body spin in the opposite direction. The rear rotor counterbalances that. Without a rear rotor, a helicopter will spin out of control. It will crash. A pilot can either bail out and save his own life or fight the controls to lessen the effects of impact as much as possible.

Craig stayed at the controls. He brought that helicopter down with as much skill as any human could have managed. His passengers walked away without a scratch. Craig died on the way to the hospital, two or three times, and came back each time. He lived, but with serious brain injuries. His flying days were over.

Craig lived quietly in a group home in middle Tennessee, convinced that he could still fly a helicopter if they would only release him. He kept his impossible dream alive, and although those who loved him told him that he could no longer fly, no one had the heart to convince him too thoroughly.

Today, the day after his only son's 15th birthday, Craig suddenly passed away. Yesterday he was fine. Today he had trouble breathing. They took him to the hospital, where they said he had viral pneumonia. This afternoon, he took flight once again, no longer bound by physical limitations.

Please keep Zachary, and Janet, and all of us in your prayers.