The Power of Faith When Tragedy Strikes

by Chris Norton

  We didn’t fully understand how blessed we were to have the NCAA’s catastrophic policy until about three or four months into our hospital stay when we realized all the extra things they paid for that our primary insurance didn’t cover. Unfortunately, at the beginning, we had to fight for every benefit.

  Despite the bumpy start, the catastrophic policy proved instrumental in Chris’s continued recovery and our ability to maintain a normal life. Primary insurance, for example, typically didn’t cover home healthcare. They only covered up through a certain point, and then you were on your own, if not for the catastrophic policy. Most often, families had a family member take over once insurance ran out, or they hired a service, but home healthcare was very expensive.

  In deciding what needed to be done to the house, I tried to balance the belief that Chris was going to walk again with the reality that it might not happen within the timeframe we wanted. Deb helped me realize that installing a ramp didn’t mean we’d given up on him walking, and putting in a roll-in shower didn’t mean he’d never be able to take a standing shower. I had to come to that gradually, because initially it felt like waving a white flag and giving up on everything we’d fought, prayed, and hoped for. Deb said that making life easier for Chris didn’t diminish our hopes and prayers for improvement, but would make our lives easier in the meantime, and she was right.

  Luckily, we lived in a wonderful community, and a local contractor stepped up and offered to help. Our original plan was to have the company oversee the project while our friends volunteered their time to do the labor. Knowing better, the contractor brought his crew in and had the work completed in one day free of charge. We only paid for the materials. They raised the main floor where there’d been a stair, knocked an opening between the den and the kitchen, installed a ramp, replaced our shower with a tile roll in, and widened the entrance to our kitchen. Other than those accommodations, we didn’t do more because we wanted Chris to live in the house to really know what we needed changed. We also had the insurance company to deal with, which slowed the process.

  As the weeks passed and we mentally prepared to move home for good, one of our biggest priorities was to make sure Chris stayed connected with Mayo. On our own, it was nearly impossible to keep abreast of the latest technology and equipment, while Mayo stayed on top of the most current research and passed along information about any big breakthroughs or new pieces of equipment. I had mixed feelings about leaving Mayo because we’d met a lot of great people, but we were there for such a tough reason. Mayo was great, they were professional, and a lot of people really came through for us, but at the same time we wished he’d never been a patient.

  I couldn’t wait to be together again as a family. I missed having family time, sleeping under the same roof, having our network of friends close by, the normalcy of working during the week, and getting together to play cards with others or go out for dinner on the weekends. Coming home on the weekends while we stayed in the Ronald McDonald House had given us a taste of what we craved and helped us ease into the challenges we’d face once home for good.

  Probably one of the worst things I had to do was clean out Chris’s dorm room. Luther College really worked with us because I started getting calls pretty quickly after his injury about getting his stuff out of the room. His roommate was upset because they wanted to move another person in, and with everything we had to deal with, cleaning out his stuff was the last thing on my mind. I told the football coach, who got a hold of someone in administration, and we didn’t have to move his stuff out right away. Problem solved.

  When I finally had a chance to clean out his room, I drug a friend along with me because I knew it would be emotionally taxing. We’d moved him into college with lots of hopes and dreams for the next phase of his life, and all the little things we’d packed for him were there having hardly been used. Cleaning it out felt like getting a beat down, and I was grateful to have a friend along for encouragement.

  Deb and I knew there was no way to repay the friends, family members, and strangers who’d been so generous since Chris’s accident. We paid it forward whenever we could, and followed up with folks who hit hard times, even when it wasn’t convenient. The one thing we learned was that we needed to be more deliberate in helping other people when they were hurting by not asking how we could help, but finding something to do and getting it done.

  The first few weeks at home were pretty frustrating. The biggest challenge was trying to match our schedules and finding reliable home healthcare. God continued to grant miracles when we needed them most. My nephew, Nolan, needed a job at the exact time we desperately needed help. The same age as Chris, Nolan was the perfect nighttime until morning companion. He stayed the summer, helped us move Chris back into college, and even stayed in Chris’s dorm room those first few days to help show his buddies what needed to be done.

  Chris’s feelings were hurt on more than one occasion when he wasn’t invited out because his friends didn’t know how to include him, and there was nothing worse than watching him struggle emotionally. Getting from where he wasn’t invited to where they now carried him up and down stairs was a gradual transition that started with me teaching them how to transfer him in and out of the car, teaching them how to fold up his wheelchair, and getting him ready for bed at night.

  His friends from home hadn’t been around him as much as his college friends. The kids from Luther, even though they weren’t caring for him yet, were more comfortable handling him and helping out when needed. Being vocal with his hometown friends was good training for Chris for when he went back to school in terms of telling people what he needed and directing his care.

  Deb and I decided that when Chris came home, he wasn’t going to sit inside watching TV all day. We were going to make things happen so he could participate in any activity to the fullest. Life wasn’t going to stop because of his injury. Deb carried a lot of her work strengths into lining up home healthcare so Chris had the ability to travel. Whatever needed to be done, our attitude was always that come hell or high water, we’d make it happen.

  The temporary nature of his stay at home made planning difficult, because while trying to figure out a system for when he was home, we were also making plans for him to return to college in the fall. Returning to Luther never felt unobtainable, but it was scary, especially for me with my focus on logistics. I was so overwhelmed with all of the challenges he faced when going back to school, at one point, I wanted him to delay his return. I felt he’d be that much stronger if he waited one more semester.

  Deb was the voice of reason. “We’ll make it work,” she said. Where I wanted to know how everything was going to flow, she calmly said, “We’ll get there and figure it out. It’s going to work out fine.” She was right, and I tried really hard not to look too far out, but that was easier said than done.

  I was anxious about Chris going back to school because I’d been there since his accident, making sure he was taken care of, and I felt he should live with Alex. On the flip side, I knew he wouldn’t integrate or be immersed in the college experience if he lived off campus. I knew it would be better for him to live as one of the guys in the dorm, so we compromised by finding an apartment for Alex only five minutes from campus.

  I drove everybody nuts during that time because I liked to have my Is dotted and my Ts crossed, with everything planned out in advance. I stewed over every little detail.

  How’s he going to get to each class? Who’s going to open the doors for him? Is each building accessible? Will there be somebody there to take notes for him? How will his textbooks be delivered? He can’t hold a textbook or turn a page, so his books will have to be e-books. How will he take his tests? Who’s going to get him ready every morning? Who’s going to put him in bed? Who’s going to be there to help him at night?

  Deb reminded me that we couldn’t anticipate every issue or plan each minute of his day, and she reassured me that most things would take care of themselves. I had to come to term
s with the fact that we weren’t going to have it all figured out, and that was okay.

  We talked through our concerns with several of Luther’s staff, Chris’s roommates, and friends of ours who lived in the area. Football coach, Mike Durnin, helped us find Alex an apartment, and friends who lived in Decorah let me store some of our stuff in their garage and were available as a safety net if Alex had any problems.

  Alex volunteering to help her brother was a tremendously generous gift to our family. Deb and I would never have asked her to do it, but Chris couldn’t have made the transition without her. Even when we thought we had everything covered, there were times when something came up and she was there for him in a way no one else would have been. She never saw it as a sacrifice, and she’ll never know the depth of our gratitude.

  * * *

  “For some reason, I wasn’t nervous about moving to a town three hours from home, not knowing anyone, living in an apartment by myself, and not having my usual support system around. But I didn’t even think twice about it, which surprises me with how shy and how much of a homebody I really am now. I honestly couldn’t stand the thought of not being near my brother, and feeling powerless, and not being able to be right there if he needed something.”

  ~ Alex Norton, Chris’s sister

  * * *

  About two or three weeks before Chris went back to school, I was so consumed with the details that I realized we hadn’t considered Alex’s emotional well-being. What would she do when he was in class? What would she do at night when he was with his friends? We were so focused on getting him moved back that we temporarily lost sight of what her life would be like when she wasn’t helping make life easier for Chris.

  Once they were in Decorah, Alex asked Chris to join her at the apartment each week for dinner so he could be there for her in the same way she was there for him. During the day, she had her hands full getting him to class, picking up medications when needed, taking care of his laundry, making sure he got his lunch, and a thousand other things, but at night, he was with his buddies while she was in a new town and didn’t know anyone.

  Chris often brought his buddies over, and Alex cooked for them too. Since there was only a one-year age difference between Alex and the seniors at Luther, she became friends with some of the guys from the football team and their girlfriends. She soon had her own social group to hang out with when she wasn’t helping Chris.

  When fighting for Alex to get paid for helping Chris, I had to play the heavy again with the insurance company. Alex was a registered nurse working for fifteen dollars an hour when they normally paid an RN twenty-five dollars an hour, and the insurance company didn’t want to pay her at all because she was family.

  I put my foot down and said, “No. We’re not going to find somebody who doesn’t know Chris, who isn’t a family member, and isn’t as skilled.” We were so grateful for the policy, but wished we didn’t have to battle to receive the benefits.

  Chris went back to school early to report in with the football team. Luther’s head football coach, Mike Durnin, did a wonderful job of making Chris feel like part of the team, and we liked the idea of him moving in two weeks before school started so he could get back into a routine, become used to dorm life, and figure out how to maneuver around campus. Nolan came with us and stayed in the dorm with Chris the first couple nights to help with the transition, while Alex moved into her apartment.

  We were blessed to find a home health care nurse, Nancy, who took excellent care of Chris. She came in three or four times a week to do his personal care, but she also made sure his medications were organized, picked up his room, put away his laundry, and did all kinds of extra things she didn’t have to do. She was wonderful, Chris thought the world of her, and Deb and I couldn’t have been happier to have her in his life.

  Before Chris went back to school, we knew the character of his college friends based off his experience playing football and when he was in the hospital, but we had no idea how that would transfer once he returned. It was one thing to be a good friend and have fun with him, and another altogether to meet his needs and basically serve him. To our great relief, Chris’s friends embraced him and made him a part of the group. As a parent, seeing how his friends took care of him and loved him eased our minds so much, and it gave us faith in the improperly dubbed “me” generation. Not only did they help him in the dorm and on campus, but they also took him tubing down the river, to concerts, camping, and on a spring break trip to the beach.

  One of the benefits of the NCAA policy was that it paid for non-skilled care. If a friend wanted to help Chris get ready for bed, do his laundry, or take him to ride the exercise bike, we could pay him through our insurance. At first, a lot of his friends didn’t want to get paid to help. We understood and respected their attitude, but we also wanted to have someone there at all times whose job it was to help. He needed assistance and somebody had to do it, so getting paid made it mutually beneficial. Several of his friends quit their work-study jobs or their part-time jobs because we were able to supply them with a steady income.

  We didn’t want Luther to hand Chris anything, or make it easy for him, but we hoped they would work with him in doing his schoolwork a different way. For example, he couldn’t write with a pen and paper or fill out a test. My hope was that they’d make adaptations so he’d get the same educational opportunities as everyone else in a way that kept the playing field level, yet didn’t put him at a disadvantage.

  Fortunately, they had most of that worked out prior to him starting classes, and what they didn’t, they were able to work through as they went along. Student services coordinated the effort to have someone in Chris’s class take notes, put his tests on the computer so he could take them in the library, and download his textbooks to his iPad. They were really good about getting that set up and working with his instructors.

  Luther’s head athletic trainer, Brian Solberg, allowed us to keep the RT300 bicycle in a special room, and he made his staff available to help Chris, which was a huge help in making sure Chris continued his therapy. Brian also advocated for sidewalks and helped with different areas on campus that weren’t conducive to a wheelchair. He pushed for fixes to routes Chris routinely traversed.

  We contacted the rehab places Mayo had recommended in Decorah and explained Chris’s situation. We asked if they’d worked with someone with his injury before and if they’d be able to take him on as a patient. Most therapists saw a patient three times a week for forty-five minutes, but Chris wanted therapy every day for several hours a day, so he would significantly add to a therapist’s schedule. We didn’t want to bounce around from place to place and therapist to therapist, but after our experience in Des Moines, our expectations were pretty low.

  The first time we took Chris to meet physical therapist Lisa Kreig at Euro-Team, she wanted to check him out, so she grabbed him, stood him up, strapped a harness on, and started walking him around as if she’d been working with him for years. My fears about the quality of therapy in Decorah went out the window when I saw she wasn’t afraid to jump right in. Deb and I knew right away he’d be in good hands. Chris loved working with Lisa because she was go, go, go for two solid hours. Lisa, along with Jennessa Luzum, his OT at Winneshiek Medical Center, were true blessings because getting the right therapy was just as important to Chris as getting back to college.

  Chris was worried about fitting everything in between school and therapy. At that point, he’d been out of school for a year. Suddenly, he was a full-time student doing full-time therapy, and it was a lot. Deb and I were worried about him trying to do too much. After an adjustment period, he settled into a manageable routine.

  It meant a lot to us when Coach Durnin called and told us Chris would be an honorary team captain at the first home game. It was an honor to our family, as well as a testament to Mike’s hard work at making us feel connected and Chris feel special and a part of the program. Chris had left the field in a helicopter, so coming back and being ab
le to stand on the field made for an extraordinary and bittersweet day.

  * * *

  “It was fun tailgating with them at the first home football game of the 2011 season. Chris was named an honorary captain. A tremendous applause and a standing ovation came from the crowd as Chris appeared on the field with the help of two of his friends—members of the Luther football team.”

  ~ Luann Smith, Retired Luther Employee

  * * *

  Three or four of his Mayo therapists came wearing T-shirts that said “Team Norton,” and that really meant a lot to our family. I tried to ignore the ache in my heart and focus on Chris standing for the National Anthem and the coin toss, and appreciate the crowd’s standing ovation. Our family beamed with pride on the sidelines—Chris had come so far in a very short period of time.

  The following Saturday, we went to Central College to watch Luther play the team Chris went up against when he was injured. After the game, Central’s coach, Jeff McMartin, presented Chris with a football, while the Central players acknowledged Chris individually. When the players went to the locker room, I noticed a Central player standing off to the side, looking a little emotional. Some parents came up and introduced themselves, waved the player over, and explained that he was the boy who’d collided with Chris on the play when he was injured. It wasn’t until he and his parents hugged Chris that I realized the weight he must have carried with him over the past year, even though it was just a freak accident and it wasn’t his fault. I was glad he came over, because it was a tender and meaningful moment that I hope helped put his mind at ease.