The Power of Faith When Tragedy Strikes

by Chris Norton

  My goal for that summer was to increase my independence, walk, and regain as much function and control as possible. During that time, I wore wrist cuffs from my forearm to my hand to prevent my wrists from dropping. I used the small slot in the cuff to slide silverware inside so I could eat independently, and I wanted to increase my hand strength so I could grip silverware on my own. I also worked to increase my arm strength to better use the power-assist chair and my leg and trunk strength so I could stand longer. I was basically trying to improve everything and get stronger overall.

  I came home with a loaner chair to use until the custom chair I ordered was delivered. I tended to slouch, and Megan constantly reminded me to sit upright because it would help my core strength and comfort if I used correct posture. Throughout the day, my butt slowly slipped forward to the point where I’d eventually have to push myself back several times a day by leaning all the way over my legs and pushing on my feet to get myself slipped back into place.

  The angle of the loaner chair was unfamiliar, so on my first day at rehab in Des Moines when I went forward to lean and push myself back, the chair was like a slide and I slipped out. I’d spent seven months at Mayo and never fell out of my chair, but on my first day in a new place I hit the ground. They got me up, I wasn’t hurt, and I reminded myself to be patient because we were in a transition period.

  The therapists were constantly telling me to keep moving, shift my weight around, and lean forward because staying seated in the same position for a long time put a lot of pressure on the tailbone and could cause a sore. Within a few days of falling out of my chair at rehab, at the Iowa state track meet with my friend Logan watching his girlfriend run, I leaned forward to adjust my position in the chair and felt myself slowly slipping out headfirst. Oh, no! The only thing between a six-foot drop and me was a railing. I tried yelling to get Logan’s attention, but my voice was too soft to be heard over the crowd at Drake Stadium. My face smacked the bar of the rail, stopping my momentum and keeping me from falling off the bleachers.

  I called for help. Thankfully, Logan and a couple of strangers grabbed me and hoisted me back into the chair. Logan’s faced looked as if he’d seen a ghost, while my face probably looked as if I’d been in a fight. I learned the hard way to be extra careful whenever I leaned forward, but mostly I couldn’t wait to get rid of the loaner chair.

  My therapy hours decreased to ten hours per week, and we had to fight with the insurance company to get more. I was desperate to see improvement, and thankfully we were able to return to twenty hours a week. Even with the increased hours, the transition from Mayo was hard. The dark, cellar-like atmosphere of my PT in Des Moines was so different from Mayo’s PT room with lots of windows and natural light. Des Moines also didn’t have a gym tech like Amy (“Big Cat”) to brighten the room with her energy.

  The first couple of weeks, I wasn’t doing as well as I thought I should, but I tried to be patient. Unfortunately, Des Moines didn’t have equipment that was assistive enough for me to work on standing and walking. I knew from my research that the more I replicated normal gate walking, the more likely it was that the spinal cord would reprogram itself and help the nerves reconnect. We tried countless ways to replicate standing and stimulate walking, but Des Moines just didn’t have a good setup, and my progress came to a screeching halt. Profoundly discouraged, I was a mess—on edge and more frustrated than I’d been throughout my entire time in rehab. My last day at Mayo had been the best therapy I’d ever had, and I was pumped about going home, only to backslide.

  I was so frustrated, that my parents arranged for Alex and Nolan to do drive me to Mayo three days a week, stay in a hotel for a couple of nights, and then drive back. I was relieved to go back to Mayo and work with the therapists and Big Cat again. I was once again able to work on balance, bear weight on my feet, and perform the walking motion. After only two weeks of back and forth, I was back to where I wanted to be and making progress.

  I used the RT300 therapeutic bike every day while at Mayo to help coordinate my movements, keep my muscles from atrophying, and help stimulate my arms and legs. We went through the NCAA insurance to order my own RT300, but it took a month to arrive and there wasn’t another bike available near Des Moines at that time. Before we decided to spend three days a week at Mayo, we contemplated driving two hours to use the bike because I felt restless, I wanted more therapy, and things weren’t going well in Des Moines.

  In addition to rehab, we spent the summer at home making plans for my return to Luther. As the end of summer approached, my parents wanted me to wait one more semester before returning to college. Sending me off to college the first time was hard enough, but by the end of my senior year of high school, I was barely around due to my jam-packed schedule. The second time was much more difficult because they knew how much help I still needed. They were a part of my everyday life, and I was very dependent on them.

  Alex had the most influence on their decision to let me go. Not only was she going with me, but as a recent graduate, she convinced them I needed to have the full college experience. She knew it would be good for me to get away and that I’d be fine once we established a routine. It also helped that my parents knew my Luther friends were responsible. They’d been around enough both at Mayo and at home in the summer that they understood my needs, and my parents trusted them.

  My parents weren’t the only ones with doubts. I needed lots of help, and it was reassuring that Alex wanted to live nearby. I’d only spent ten weeks at school my freshman year before the accident, and fortunately I’d developed really meaningful relationships with my friends in a very short time. I needed help with a lot of personal matters, so being comfortable with my friends and roommates was important.

  * * *

  “After months of intensive rehab and physical therapy at the Mayo Clinic, Chris was able to return the following year as a full time student. When he was in the process of finalizing the roommates who would make up the twelve-person handicap accessible dorm in Farwell Hall, he extended to me the last spot in the small single room. I took him up on his offer, not knowing that I was entering a period in my life where I would develop some of the most important friendships of my life.”

  ~ Rich Holton, Luther classmate and friend

  * * *

  Luther only had one dorm on campus that was accessible, and my friends agreed to live with me in that dorm. The school also allowed four guys to live in the cluster so one could stay with me overnight if I needed help with straightening my legs, bending my arms, adjusting the covers, or whatever came up. I had a lot of anxiety wondering what would happen if my friends weren’t able to stay with me, help me into bed, take me to class, and do all the things my family had been doing since my injury.

  With my living arrangements and class schedule already in place, I was able to move in two weeks before classes when the rest of the football team arrived. It was good to get there early, get adjusted, and have both Nolan and Alex to help with the transition. We used that time to prepare for life on my own in the dorm and to teach my friends how to help me before Nolan had to leave and Alex moved into her own place.

  When I transitioned to school, I didn’t feel comfortable asking people I didn’t know well to help because I felt like a burden. If someone sighed and asked, “What do you need now?” their half-sarcastic, half-true reaction rubbed me the wrong way.

  Early on, when I felt a sense of grief, I wanted to say, “You know what? I can’t do this. I’m sorry I can’t do it on my own. I wish I could.”

  Over the course of my injury, as I became more comfortable asking for help, I slowly stopped saying please and thank you again. While grateful for help, saying please and thank you seemed redundant because everyone—including me—knew I needed help. The assistance I needed to function day in and day out with tasks like putting on a coat or transferring me to bed didn’t feel like favors because it was just my life. I always asked nicely, but I didn’t show as much appreciation as I sho
uld have. I took for granted that my family and friends would help because I was used to being cared for and helped. Fortunately, during my first year back at college, I learned that showing appreciation helped ease my guilt, and that family, friends, and acquaintances didn’t mind helping when I was grateful.

  My friends made my time at college possible because they took the time to drive me places, push me places, help me get food, or brush my teeth, and assist with a thousand other things. They went out of their way to make me feel comfortable by sacrificing some of their freedom in order to make sure I was included. My friends were the reason I was able to have a regular college experience, and I didn’t have the words to express the depth of my gratitude.

  Considering my experience in Des Moines, I was also nervous about the therapy options in the small town of Decorah. Mayo was closer—an hour and fifteen minutes away as opposed to three hours from home—so we made arrangements to travel to Mayo twice a week. I had class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and I spent Tuesday and Thursday at Mayo. Most of my therapy took place in Decorah, which meant finding the right facility.

  After a tough summer back home and falling to the ground during the first training session there, I had serious doubts about locating adequate therapy in Decorah. I prepared for the worst when I visited Euro-Team and PT Lisa Krieg. My biggest concern about going back to college was my recovery, so therapy during school would essentially make or break my college experience. When Lisa said she wanted to stand me up right away, I thought she was kidding. PTs err on the side of caution, and it took weeks before someone was comfortable enough to stand me up by themselves at Mayo. I knew I could do it, but I was taken aback by her fearlessness. She was short but strong and pulled me right up to standing without a problem. I grinned inside and out because I knew God had planted me in the right place to maximize my recovery.

  * * *

  “I will always remember when Chris and his family came to Euro-Team that first day, willing to trust a PT in a small, rural clinic to keep him going toward his bigger picture of moving, walking, and living!”

  ~ Lisa Krieg, PT Euro-Team in Decorah

  * * *

  Lisa reminded me of Megan in that she was very proactive, she wanted our time together to be intense, she wanted to push me, she wanted to try new things, and she was willing to do whatever it took to reach my goals. Since both Megan and Lisa were my therapists, they communicated about what was working well for team Norton.

  Having my own therapeutic bike at the Luther training area was a huge benefit because I used it all the time to maintain my muscles and get stronger. I worked out on the bike as often as possible for extra therapy. One of my friends would come along and set me up, and the head trainer always made himself available because he also knew how to set me up on the machine.

  I was happy with my role on the football team as a source of motivation. I didn’t want or need special attention, I just wanted to be treated like a player. Coach Durnin was great about letting me choose whatever role I wanted. He said I could be a coach and come to the coaching meetings, or be on the sidelines as a player, or do both. But it turned out that I had a very small role with the team because I was busy with school, and my therapy was always during practice.

  Coach Durnin told me I’d be the honorary captain at Luther’s first home game. I was thrilled, and I knew right away I wanted to stand on the field with the help of the other captains. I was strong enough that the guys could position themselves on each side of me and help me stand. I was nervous about the logistics, but it was a good way to celebrate how far I’d come with my family, friends, and some of the Mayo staff who were a big part of my recovery.

  I was really worried about physically standing because I was so inconsistent in my attempts at therapy. On a bad day, or even just an okay day, I might not be able to stand. I prayed to God, practiced, and communicated with the captains who’d push me out to the center of the field and stand me up so they’d be prepared for anything. We rehearsed by simulating the whole process a couple times with Alex there telling them what to look for to make sure I didn’t get lightheaded. While the captains were friends, they were also juniors and seniors who were unfamiliar with my routine. Thankfully, it went off without a hitch, and it was great to have so many friends—old and new—in attendance.

  Around my return to Luther, I realized how lucky we were to have the NCAA insurance. My parents appreciated it once they understood that along with the medical bills, the expense of commuting back and forth between Rochester and Des Moines was eligible for reimbursement from the NCAA. Until that time, they were flying through their resources, paying for everything on their own and with the help of friends. NCAA insurance lifted some of the financial pressure, and I could tell it helped ease their tension.

  Once we realized the full extent of the policy’s coverage, we began paying people by the hour for assistance. At first, the insurance company said a family member couldn’t claim the assistance funds, so when my sister was taking me to therapy in the summer as part of her job, my parents were funding her the best they could. Then they decided to fight the insurance company. We believed Alex should get paid because she was sacrificing her nursing career to help me. The insurance company relented, and she got paid for helping me every day with my therapy.

  The same applied to Nolan when his job was to take care of me for the summer—and my friends at college when they’d get me to bed, stay with me overnight, and help me travel. Being able to pay my friends took the pressure and attention off of the time it took for them to help. Knowing my friends were getting paid and not just doing favors for me relieved some of my stress. Sometimes they didn’t feel good about accepting money because they were my friends, and while I understood, I wanted them to get paid so they’d never feel put out. Occasionally, I wanted them to assist with extra work outside my therapy and paying them eased my guilt at asking.

  There was a huge learning curve doing my schoolwork on an iPad, and it was really hard to figure out how to write papers and type with my arms. Sometimes I could only use my left arm to type because my right arm was still really weak. I had to take frequent breaks from schoolwork due to muscle fatigue. I tried to use my right arm when my left needed a break, and over time both arms got much stronger and the breaks were less frequent. No matter what arm I used, I was terribly slow because I had to type one letter at a time with the side of my knuckle. Sometimes I used the voice recognition software, but it was far from perfect. I tried dictating papers to my sister, but I’d lose my train of thought. Writing papers, getting my schoolwork done, and figuring out programs that allowed me to turn in my work and complete worksheets were some of my biggest challenges.

  Despite my busy schedule, I didn’t want to give up any therapy time just because I was in school. I was still doing six hours of therapy a day on top of school and the two-and-a-half hour round-trip commute to Rochester. At first, my life was nothing more than school and therapy, sixteen hours a day. After the first couple of weeks on that schedule I got sick because I was completely worn down. I eventually acclimated to the intense schedule, and it turned into a strict routine I refused to break.

  Alex often said she didn’t know how I fit everything in, being a full-time student, a full-time therapy patient, and making time for friends, but it wasn’t a choice. I didn’t complain even though it was a ton of work because I did what I had to do to get by. On the weekends, I always made time for fun, as it was the only way I could make it through the week, and that was enough to keep me sane.

  By late October, I needed Alex less and less. Going back to school was definitely a transition that turned into a progression. For example, in the beginning I had Alex push me to my classes and meet me at different places on campus. After establishing a routine, I realized I had friends whose paths I crossed along my route who were more than happy to help me get from place to place, so I needed her less frequently. Once back at school, I made even more friends, and my pool of helper
s was larger too. Within a few months, I was living on my own terms, pursuing a college degree, working hard to physically improve, and enjoying every bit of fun along the way.

  * * *

  I give thanks that I had the benefit of growing up in a coaching family. I believe coaching and parenting have so much in common. These last eight months have been my toughest assignment for both. Through them I learned the difference between “punishment” and “teaching,” the difference between “building up” and “tearing down,” and the difference between “encouraging” and “discouraging.” As a parent and a coach, our children/players need us the most when things are not going well. That is when the true character of a parent/coach comes through.

  ~Terry Norton, CaringBridge, June 28, 2011

  * * *

  THE TECHNOLOGY and adaptive equipment we needed to purchase for Chris once he was out of rehab was overwhelming, and it didn’t help that I was really resistant to even discussing it when he was still at Mayo. I wanted him to have everything he needed, but I remained convinced he was going to walk out of the hospital. We’d make it happen whatever it took, but in the back of my mind I thought we weren’t going to need much, and what we did need, we wouldn’t need for long.

  For example, even after seven months in rehab, we chose to have our insurance company rent a van instead of buying one ourselves. I thought for sure we’d only need the vehicle for a month or two, so it made more sense to rent it a month at a time. When Chris went back to school, we came to our senses and bought a van, thanks to the NCAA insurance policy.