Gabby

by Gabrielle Giffords

  “God bless you, child,” he said to her, and kissed her forehead. She put her left hand up to his cheek. When he said goodbye and turned away, he broke down crying.

  Gabby was on the floor for about fifteen minutes. Then she was back in the car, headed for the hotel. She seemed completely happy on the ride, but the whole experience had drained her. “Wiped out,” she said.

  We all told her how proud of her we were, and she smiled.

  “Gabby, you were brave to walk into that mob,” I said. “I didn’t expect that wave of people coming at you, but you held your own, you didn’t get knocked down, and you voted! Great job, sweetie!”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Whew, I’m tired.”

  Back at the hotel, we watched the news coverage of the vote, which passed, 269 to 161. Sixty-six Republicans and ninety-five Democrats voted against it. Gabby was moved by all the attention to her appearance on the floor. Her friend Debbie Wasserman Schultz gave an interview to CNN. “All our hearts were so full,” she said. “You had grizzled, hardened members with very hardened hearts, and everybody just melted when Gabby walked in the chamber. It was so incredible.” Debbie spoke of jaws dropping, of tears flowing, of how partisan bickering fell away at the sight of their injured colleague.

  Gabby worked the TV remote, surveying the coverage. She was pleased with what she had accomplished. “Proud of me,” she said.

  Then she excused herself, went into the bedroom, and napped for an hour. I went out to get us a pizza.

  Photos of Gabby in the House chamber made the front page of newspapers across the nation the next morning. There were scores of editorials written about her, and Gabby’s office sent me links to some of them via e-mail. One of my favorites came from The Record, a newspaper in northern New Jersey. I was moved while reading it to Gabby, and so was she.

  The editorial began: “Finally, nobility. After months of rancor and pettiness, one small woman brought Washington to its feet. Her ‘yes’ vote did not affect the outcome; the bill passed by a wide margin. But for a few minutes, it changed the tenor of the debate. For that, America should be grateful.”

  The editorial continued: “Giffords’ physical rehabilitation is far from complete. . . . We do not know how much more progress she will make or whether she will ever return to full-time duty in the House. But on Monday, she did return. Without speaking and without fiery rhetoric, she brought all of us to the same conclusion: This nation is worthy of personal sacrifice . . . We can compromise on how we fund America; we cannot compromise on how we define America. That definition does not require words. Just look at Gabrielle Giffords.”

  By tradition, presidents often thank astronauts for their service after a successful flight. Coincidentally, the crew of STS-134 had been invited to meet with President Obama at the White House the day after the debt-ceiling vote. Members of my crew were bringing their spouses, and naturally, I wanted Gabby to come, too. The president would be glad to see her, and I knew he’d be impressed by her progress.

  “No,” Gabby said. “Back to work.”

  What did she mean? “In Congress?” I asked.

  “No, no,” she said. “Rehab.”

  I was surprised. Given the option of visiting the president in the Oval Office and spending five hours in rehab, you’d think the choice would be obvious.

  “Sweetie, you can miss one day of therapy,” I said. “Your therapists will understand.”

  “No,” Gabby said again. “Fly back for therapy.”

  I saw from the look on her face that she was adamant about this. Her job was to commit herself to every facet of rehab, and to get better. Improving her speech, using her arm, returning to Congress—so much hinged on that hard work. That was her foremost responsibility.

  I knew there was no arguing it. “I’ll tell the president that you say hello,” I said, “and that you didn’t want to miss rehab. He’ll understand.”

  Gabby met with her Capitol Hill staff in the hotel conference room, and then she and Jen, along with the two nurses and her security detail, headed to the airport. I went to the White House without her.

  Jen later told me about the plane ride back to Houston. Gabby watched CNN for a while and smiled whenever the news crawl at the bottom of the screen announced: “Giffords returns to House.”

  At one point, Gabby turned to Jen and said, “I am optimistic.”

  The next morning, I was at NASA headquarters in Washington, and I got an e-mail from Jen. She had accompanied Gabby to the outpatient rehab facility. She wanted me to know about an encounter Gabby had minutes earlier.

  Gabby was in the waiting room before going in for rehab. She was wearing the orange zip-up that she’d worn on her last bike ride with Raoul, the night before she was shot. She didn’t look like the congresswoman in the teal suit who was all over the news.

  And yet, there in the waiting room, a young girl in a pink T-shirt and sweatpants recognized her. The girl had a patch over her eye and walked with a slight limp. She obviously had a weakness on one side of her body. Like Gabby, she must have been there because of a brain injury.

  “I saw you on TV,” the girl said. Gabby’s appearance on the House floor was still being played in a steady loop on news programs.

  Gabby smiled at the girl. “I try,” she told her. “I will try.”

  The girl looked to be about nine years old, the same age as Christina-Taylor Green, who was lost on January 8. Gabby motioned for the girl to come closer, and they both took a couple of steps toward each other. Gabby gazed into the girl’s face. “Beautiful!” she said, and with her left arm, she gave the girl a long hug.

  The girl smiled up at her, looking thrilled. Then Gabby turned on her good left foot, took a full step with her braced right foot, and made her way slowly down the hall to the therapy room. Back to work.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Gabby’s Voice

  Over many nights, as this story became a book, Gabby and I read these chapters together, one at a time. She was fully engaged, weighing in on every page. She corrected imprecise anecdotes and added her memories to mine. Our hope was always that she would be able to write the final chapter in her own voice. —M.K.

  Hope and faith. You have to have hope and faith.

  Everything I do reminds me of that horrible day. Just rolling onto my side is hard. Hard to sleep at night. Reminds me of how badly I was hurt. It was hard but I’m alive.

  Lot of people died. Six wonderful people. So many people hurt. Always connected to them.

  Long ways to go. Grateful to survive. It’s frustrating. Mentally hard. Hard work. I’m trying. Trying so hard to get better. Regain what I’ve lost. Want to speak better.

  Trying to get back to work. Back to work for Arizona. Back to work for the American people. I love the people of my state. I’m so sorry I’m unable to work right now. My staff’s been awesome. Been hard for them, too. They are working hard.

  I want to thank all the doctors. Thank the nurses and therapists. It’s been challenging. They are all special.

  A whole lot of cards and letters. Thank you.

  I appreciate the help of my mom and dad. Mark is an inspiration. I love them very much.

  I will get stronger. I will return.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing this book and telling our story were not easy for Gabby or for me. We each had difficulty reliving the shooting and the challenges that followed January 8.

  This book would not have been possible without our families. Gabby’s parents, Gloria and Spencer, left their home in Tucson for over seven months to be here with Gabby and me as she navigated the long and difficult road known as rehabilitation. They have supported us every step of the way and continue to do that today. My parents, Patricia and Richard, gave me the strength I needed to get through this tragedy. They’ve always reminded me that I could do or overcome anything. My brother and best friend, Scott, despite my being two hundred and fifty miles up in space, became a sounding board when I had decisions
to make. Gabby’s sister, Melissa, spent hours at her bedside at the University Medical Center. Our daughters, Claudia and Claire, were with us on January 8 and have been with us throughout this long ordeal. Raoul Erickson, who is like a brother to Gabby, made multiple trips to Houston just to make sure she was eating all of her peas. Raoul would do anything for Gabby.

  We deeply appreciate everything that Suzy Gershman has done for us over the years. We met her when we hired her to be our wedding planner in 2007 and she became a friend, planning everything else ever since. We’re not sure where this family would be without Suzy. Many, many thanks to Tilman and Paige Fertitta who are two of the most generous people in the world. Without their assistance this entire experience would have been far more difficult.

  We could not have been better served by Gabby’s staff. Pia Carusone, Gabby’s chief of staff, is extraordinarily dedicated and loyal. She became a trusted partner and friend to me while getting her boss through this horrible ordeal. We could not have managed without her. Gabby’s district director, Ron Barber, was injured as he stood by her side on January 8, yet continued to do his job while recovering in the ICU. I will never forget seeing Ron on a conference call with Gabby’s staff from his ICU bed just days after being shot in the face and leg. That is the definition of service.

  Rodd McLeod, Gabby’s longtime campaign manager and friend, put his life and future on hold to make sure that Gabby’s constituents were properly served while she and Ron Barber recovered. He held her district office together. We also need to thank Jen Cox who has been with Gabby from the beginning of her first congressional campaign and we hope and pray will never leave. Jen is the person Gabby trusts with the most personal details of her life. She is irreplaceable.

  Pam Simon is the kind of employee who, you could say, would “take a bullet for her boss,” and that is exactly what she did. Pam, we thank you for your service to Gabby and to this country. We also want to thank Dr. David Bowman, Nancy Bowman, Dr. David Beal, Anna Ballis, and Gabby’s intern, Daniel Hernandez, who administered first aid to Gabby and the other victims. And thanks go out to Gabby’s staff members Mark Kimble and Sara Humel Rajca, and her intern Alex Villec, who were at the Congress on Your Corner event on January 8 and were put in harm’s way serving their country. I took much comfort in knowing that Gabby had a trusted spokesperson in C.J. Karamargin who worked tirelessly to speak on Gabby’s behalf, when she couldn’t, over these many months.

  Thirteen people were shot on January 8 and survived. Gabby was honored that they came to participate in the democratic process that morning, and they remain in our thoughts and prayers. Besides Pam Simon and Ron Barber, they are: Bill Badger, Kenneth Dorushka, James Fuller, Randy Gardner, Suzi Hileman, George Morris, Mary Reed, Mavy Stoddard, James Tucker, and Kenneth Veeder. Gabby and I are relieved that they all seem to be recovering well.

  All of us can only hope that if we’re incapacitated, our team will rise to the occasion and press on with the mission. Gabby’s Washington, D.C., office did just that. Thank you to Lauren Alfred, Peter Ambler, Gavi Begtrup, Sean Coit, Jim Dennany, Emily Fritze, Ashley Nash-Hahn, Major Josh Koslov USAF, Larry Meinert, Elaine Ulrich and all of the interns for holding down the fort.

  Nothing is more important to Gabby than serving her constituents. In Gabby’s absence, her Arizona staff continued to work for the people of Arizona’s 8th Congressional District. Thank you to Tom Alston, Dan Frey, Sean Goslar, Pam Harrington, Joni Jones, Amanda Sapir, Shay Saucedo, and Patty Valera. And thank you to Molly Allen, Jamie Gershberg, Linda Quinn, Elena Ruiz, Jessica Schultz, and Hayley Zachary, who have labored to make sure that Gabby is ready to run for reelection in 2012. Their effort, along with the help of Gabby’s Finance Committee and Joan Kaye Cauthorne, has been critical to Gabby’s political career. We thank them for their dedication. We’d also like to thank Andrew Floyd, Steve Gershman, and Gary Jones. Spouses of Gabby’s supporters and staff, they have gone above and beyond for us.

  We also need to thank those folks who rushed into the maelstrom to help in any possible way and continue to do so today. Thank you to Lynne Abbuhl, Liz Berry, Melissa Blaustein, Daniel Graver, Anne Hilby, Michael Hill, Maura Policelli, Danielle Raines, Melissa Rasowsky, Colin Reischl, Caryn Schenewerk, Brittni Storrs, and the dozens of other former staffers who descended on Tucson to assist Gabby and memorialize their friend Gabe.

  We benefited from the expertise of Gabby’s political team: Jennifer Bluestein, Jim Crounse, Peggy Egan, Anna Greenberg, Jason Ralston, and Dave Walker. In difficult times it is so important to get great advice from smart and trusted people.

  When Gabby first decided to run for national office one of the first people she contacted was Michael McNulty. Michael, the son of former Congressman Jim McNulty, is Gabby’s Campaign Chairman and a trusted advisor. He has been with her every step of the way. We thank him for that.

  Gabby also wants to thank her business and political mentors. As a young CEO, Gabby reached out to Dorothy Finley, who was there for her, and has been ever since. The late Arizona State Senator Andy Nichols guided Gabby during her early career in state government, and Fred Duval helps her today.

  On that tragic day, all of the victims were very fortunate to have a level-one trauma center and a great hospital in the University Medical Center (UMC). I took great comfort in knowing an experienced Navy trauma surgeon was managing Gabby’s care in Tucson. Dr. Peter Rhee, Captain, U.S. Navy, was crucial to Gabby’s survival. Go Navy! We would also like to thank Dr. Randy Friese, who first treated Gabby when she arrived in the emergency room and traveled with her to Houston after she was discharged. We deeply appreciate the incredible job done by Gabby’s neurosurgeons Mike Lemole and Marty Weinand, who performed multiple surgical procedures on Gabby during her two-week stay at UMC. Gabby’s nurses at the ICU were just amazing. These dedicated professionals are the unsung heroes of the medical community. Nursing staffers, including Tracy Culbert, Amanda Berner, and Joshua Coleman, spent two weeks caring for Gabby around the clock. They were impressive to watch. Gabby and the other victims benefited from the hands-on management of UMC CEO Kevin Burns, who paid close attention to every detail of their treatment. From the top administrators to the supportive folks who worked in the cafeteria or at the front desk, this was a very special group, perfect representatives of the caring citizens of the City of Tucson. We thank them for their tireless efforts.

  As the events of January 8 unfolded, the Tucson Police and Fire Departments, Pima County Sheriff’s Department, and the City of Tucson all quickly flew into action. We want to personally thank Tucson Police Chief Roberto Villaseñor, Assistant Chief John Leavitt, Tucson Fire Chief Patrick Kelly, Sheriff Clarence Dupnick, and Mayor Bob Walkup. We want to thank U.S. Marshall David Gonzales for the help he provided to Gabby’s staff and to us, and we’re also grateful to former U.S. Attorney Dennis Burke and his staff, who assisted the victims and their families and kept us informed about the criminal proceedings. We want to thank the woman who married us and comforted Gabby while she was in the ICU in Tucson and later in Houston: Rabbi Stephanie Aaron.

  In Houston an equally talented and professional team of doctors and nurses handled Gabby’s care. Her neurosurgeon, Dr. Dong Kim, became a great friend, advocate, and cheerleader for Gabby. He left no detail overlooked and, on May 18, 2011, performed what we expect to be her final neurosurgery with the assistance of Dr. Brian Oh. We thank them for their professionalism, optimism, and dedication to their patient. We also want to thank Dr. Imo Aisiku, who managed Gabby’s care while she was in the ICU at Memorial Hermann hospital and frequently checked on her at TIRR. Doctors Gerard Francisco and Jacob Joseph saw Gabby every single day and managed her rehabilitation through the many months at TIRR Memorial Hermann. They did an outstanding job and were instrumental in her speedy recovery. They continue to follow her closely today and we thank them for that. As in Tucson, Gabby’s nurses at TIRR were very, very special people. We appreciate all they did for her around the clock. Gabby immed
iately connected with her nurses Adrian Baines, Deanna Bennett, Darlene Clayton, Vivian Lim, Cynthia Madriz, Pam Martin, Aubrey Murray, Kristy Poteet, and Marcia Turner. We are forever grateful for what they did and continue to do for her, especially Kristy Poteet and Vivian Lim, who remained committed to Gabby’s recovery after she left TIRR. We also want to thank nurses Lesia Coco, Theresa Gambrell, Lita Harris, Kay Keyes, and Leslie Lacy. Speech pathologists Angie Glenn and Kelley Warren spent hundreds of hours working with Gabby to retrieve her language skills and her ability to speak and to enable her to enter the chamber of the U.S. House of Representatives and communicate with her colleagues. Gabby has much more work to do, but they truly showed her the way. Gabby’s physical therapists Lisa Hartmann, Dawn Phillips, and Nova Sbrusch, with the help of Willie Wilmore, worked so hard to get her up and moving again. Gabby’s music therapist, Meagan Morrow, kept Gabby’s brain lighting up with her voice, music, positive attitude, and great smile. We thank these formidably talented and dedicated therapists. We also want to thank Gabby’s neuropsychologist, Jerome Caroselli, who earned our deep appreciation despite all of the testing that Gabby just hated. And thanks to Amber Gray, the TIRR social worker who spent as much time with the family as she did with Gabby. Dan Wolterman, the CEO of Memorial Hermann, did everything he could to make sure that the transition to his hospital was smooth. TIRR’s compassionate CEO, Carl Josehart, made our experience at TIRR a positive one. He became a trusted counselor to Gabby, and to me. The TIRR outpatient facility at Kirby-Glen became Gabby’s full-time workplace after her discharge from the hospital. She was fortunate to have a great staff there as well. We want to thank Sandra Lloyd, Amber Armstead, Jean-Marie Berliner, Kris Conley, Imelda De La Garza, Megan Ford, Dr. Cullen Gibbs, Regina Martheio, Laura Martin, and Melanie Molinaro. To everyone at TIRR, we appreciate all you did for us and our families. One of the biggest obstacles Gabby deals with is communication. It is getting better daily thanks to the continued hard work of her team of speech pathologists: Nancy Estabrooks, Diana Christiana, Indi Feustel, Traci Kurkowski, and Becky Saterbak. We also want to personally thank Michelle Beardmore at the U.S. Department of Labor and Sierrah McDonald and Theresa Pena at Maxim Healthcare Services for all of their assistance.