Name
Diane Smith

Age
78

How long have you lived in Baytown?
74 years; in 2021 I moved out of state with my daughter, my only surviving relative. She was also ready for a change.

Most interesting fact about you
I’m an amateur writer — short stories and novelettes, poetry and derivative works — and retirement now gives more time for this fascinating hobby.

Background
My entire family was from Mississippi. My father settled in Goose Creek after WWII. After retiring from Enterprise Products following 20 years, I operated my own pet-sitting business for six years. It truly was the best job I ever held. I kept 155 dogs and a few cats, and made good friends along the way.

Goals
I said in 2019, ‘If I have a goal now, late in life, it’s simply to move to a cooler climate.’ Goal accomplished in 2021! After doing some research and finally selling the family homestead, we headed due north and didn’t stop until we were only 60 miles from the Canadian border. We had to quickly learn about installing automobile block heaters, placing weights in the trunk for traction, purchasing the right kind of snow boots, equipping the car with a survival kit, and learning how to drive in deep snow. In Baytown, 4 inches shut the town down. Here, we deal with 4 feet. Blizzards are nothing if we keep the larder stocked, and we are free from the fear of hurricanes and the stings of fire ants and wasps!  

Challenges
We suffered a strange set of coincidences for 27 years. We lost a member of our family every nine years, like clockwork. My husband Larry passed in 1991, my father in 2000, my son in 2009 and my brother in 2018. My husband was the victim of a homicide. I lost my son to alcoholism. He had been unable to cope with his father’s death. After court appearances and several interviews with the local victim’s advocate, Click2Houston news and KTRK-TV news, I came to feel as if my story was only filler for their programs. Nothing was done, or could be done, about the seemingly endless rounds of appeals that Larry’s murderer was granted. That sense of helplessness, coupled with the grief over my son’s death, made each day a torment. I had, as my son once told me, ‘a memory on every corner.’ The only solution was to move. I have found peace of mind and a sense of well-being in my new environment. I’ve also found a greater sense of security, because I have never publicly let it be known where I am. It may sound melodramatic, but I had been very outspoken against Larry’s killer and done what little I could to speed his execution. He had Larry’s wallet and all our information. Should Larry’s killer be paroled — and this is in the realm of possibility — he cannot find us. Meanwhile, I fight against privileges he still enjoys, aided by misguided European support groups, and against his publishing a book touting his innocence. Other than that, the State of Texas can tend to its own machinations without me. I’ve made peace with the concept of never receiving justice.

Happiest or saddest moment
Despite my deep roots and attachment to the town of my birth (I precede Baytown, as I was born in Goose Creek), the happiest day to date has been leaving the old home behind, without a backward glance. My quest is to move forward, and this I’ve done since 2021. In addition to never knowing what the weather is going to do, to my daily activities, everything is new and fresh, with endless possibilities, new faces and the friendliest people I’ve ever met.

Advice
I hope to inspire other young widowed women to realize that they have it within themselves to meet life’s hardships, knock them down, step over them and go forward. Change is the only constant in the universe. Prepare to meet it and twist it to your advantage. I have proved that, even in old age, it’s possible.

Currently reading or watching
My favorite books have always been biographies and historical fiction. Currently I’m reading “Young Woman and the Sea” by Glenn Stout. I’m hoping for a fourth season of “Leverage: Redemption.”

Favorite thing to do in Baytown
I miss all the various Baytown restaurants, especially 888! We finally got a Taco Bell here, which soothes my craving considerably. Favorite thing to do here is sit on my fifth-floor balcony, making macrame plant hangers and watching the horses cavort in the meadow nearby. Life is good.

The post Moving forward despite tragedy appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“Growing up, there was a lot of chaos and turmoil in my home. I had two drug-addicted parents. And when I was 8, my mom started dealing drugs. People were coming and going. There were a lot of unsafe activities. There was alcohol. There was physical and other abuse. It was just an insanely unhealthy situation.

“But I was determined to have a good life. Whether they were passed out on the couch or whatever, it wasn’t going to affect my day. I kind of had to be the sun, moon and stars for myself. I had to be the author of my own life. I realized that if I didn’t make happiness for myself, then I’d be sitting in my room crying and miserable all the time.

“I tried my best to self-isolate or disassociate. I was doing a lot of escapism. I loved anything fantasy. I was a really smart kid, and I loved reading books. I loved writing stories. I also rode my bike a lot. Whatever it took to make sure I had a good time, despite what was going on around me. My sister was several years older, but she wasn’t really hands on with me. So I was pretty independent.

“When I was nearly 12, my mom seemed ready to stop doing drugs and turn over a new leaf. That was great. I was happy for her. But then she had herself a last hurrah, and she overdosed. She didn’t make it. I was devastated. Despite everything that had been going on for years, I loved my mom very much. Even though she was not awesome to me, I still thought the world of her. I was the kind of person who tried to make everything seem better than it really was.

“A few days after the funeral, without my knowledge, my father signed over his rights to me to my grandfather. And he left, just took off. I was pretty upset. I thought for sure that my mom’s death was going to be his wake-up call. That we were going to be OK. We were going to try to be normal people now. But that wasn’t the case.

Turning to drugs

“After I started living with my grandparents, my grandmother had a big stroke. I was helping take care of her. And because of my mom’s death, they all told me that she shouldn’t be under any more stress. So I was never really able to grieve. I had to swallow all that. I was so angry and lonely. It’s no excuse, but it’s kind of what led me down the path of doing drugs to numb those feelings

“As a high school freshman, I was falling off badly. I couldn’t see how anything was worth being sober for. I was doing any substance I could get my hands on. I was really addicted to certain prescription pills in my high school years. I wasn’t going to class. I was way behind on my credits. By my senior year, they put me in alternative school. The principal was like, ‘You need to get this under control.’ And I did buckle down and even finished early. You couldn’t tell me a damn thing. I was still on drugs, and I felt like a million bucks. I felt unstoppable

“I decided to do graduation huge. So I got a hotel room and stayed there for about three months. All my friends were with me. It was always a party. But when the end of summer came, everyone left.

“My lowest point came while lying on the hotel room bed after taking I don’t even know how many pills. I told myself if I overdosed that night, it wouldn’t even matter. Maybe I’d go where my mom went, and I wouldn’t hurt anymore. I started feeling like my heart was slowing down, and then I kind of faded. I was so accepting of, ‘I’m dying.’ But I woke up the next morning. And the heartbreak that I felt, realizing that I hadn’t died, was unbelievably heavy. I wanted to hang myself.

“Then I started thinking about when I was a kid, how I told myself that if nobody ever made the happiness, it was up to me. I felt that I’d let myself down because I hadn’t made any happiness for myself in a really long time. That’s when I decided to leave the hotel room, go home to my grandparents, and start making some changes.

‘These kids are awesome’

“At 18, I began a relationship with my now husband, Kory. We’d been best friends forever. We had our ups and downs, and when I was 20, I had a miscarriage. I’d told myself if I ever got the chance to be a mom, I’d make sure I had a normal family. So that rocked me really hard. It left me heartbroken.

“A few months after that, I got pregnant again, and we had our first biological son together. That put everything into perspective. Feeling the love of a child and for a child was groundbreaking. When he was about 9 months old, I learned that I was pregnant again. And I started to feel this dread. What if I can’t love this new child as much as my other one? I thought my love for my first son and my older stepson was enough.

“Then one day I told myself, this is going to be my mom’s baby. Even though my mom was very tan, my older sister had blue eyes and almost blonde hair, light skin. They told her, whenever you have a second child, it’s probably going to be a boy. She started fantasizing about having this angelic, blue-eyed, almost blonde-haired, light-complected little boy. Then here I come with tan skin, brown eyes, dark hair. Anyway, I told my husband that this was going to be my mom’s baby. I was sure it was going to be a boy with blue eyes. I woke up the next day with this sense of knowing, this peace. And sure enough, he was born exactly how I pictured.

“These kids are awesome. Our oldest will be 14 in February. Our middle son just turned 9 and our youngest is 7. I love all my children, but the youngest definitely holds a special place in my heart. He reminds me so much of my mom.

“Even though life was extremely difficult when I was young, with my mom on drugs and not always around, I loved her very much. So with my youngest, I’ve always had this sense of familiarity that I felt for my mom. Maybe I just dreamed the whole thing up. But I’ll embrace it. I feel like I deserve every single bit of magic there is.

Unwelcome health scares

“Four years ago, my husband was driving us home from Austin, and I started to feel weird. I was getting a headache, and my vision was getting fuzzy. I didn’t want to overreact. I was going to try to sleep the rest of the way.

“When we got home, I sluggishly walked into the house and basically passed out on my bed. I woke up the next day, opened my eyes, and there’s this big blind spot in my vision. I still had this splitting headache. And I’m like, what the hell is happening? I spent a lot of time with my grandmother after several strokes. I saw the symptoms present in her, but nothing like this. So I immediately put stroke out of my head.

“I was in the hospital a week, doing every test possible. They didn’t know what was going on. Until I got the CT scans back. Guess what? I had a damn stroke. I was beside myself. Here I was, 26 years old, and I’m like, what the hell? They have to give me medicine to calm me down.

“Then they do an ultrasound, and they find out that I have a hole in my heart. In rare cases, it can send a blood clot to your brain and cause a stroke. And I’m like, this cannot be happening to me. Haven’t I had enough bullshit in my life?

“I had been doing everything right around that time. I was hiking with my kids, eating right, drinking plenty of water. I was angry about the whole thing. It seemed so unfair. I’d been through so much already in my life, so I didn’t want anymore. Like, whoever has my voodoo doll, you can stop now.

“It happened during COVID. So I couldn’t have visitors. I was losing my mind because I’m away from my kids, my babies, who are extremely attached to me. I felt very isolated and stressed out. I had all these breakdowns, but then I started having breakthroughs. I was like, OK, I’m going to come out of here bigger and better. Nothing can stop me. I’m actually a tsunami. And it was because of my love for plants and gardening. I had big ideas that I was determined to make happen.

Gardening therapy

“Before my stroke, I had discovered a love for gardening. I found solace in plants, a purpose and sense of reward. I started collecting succulents, and I was having a whole lot of fun with it. It was very therapeutic. I was making breakthroughs without having to go to a therapist.

“I started to sell a few plants here and there through social media. Then I decided that I was going to make it into a little side business. It would allow me to stay flexible with the kids and do something for myself. So I set up a plant page on Instagram.

“Our family has deep roots in Baytown, and I wanted to find a way to connect with my community. I wanted everyone to love plants and gardening as much as I do. While I was in the hospital, I started focusing on what I’d do when I got out. I had this extensive knowledge from researching and working with these plants. And I’m like, I could teach people all about it. That’s what I’m going to do.

“Since then, I’ve done a lot. I’ve taught plant classes for little kids at daycares. I was blessed with an opportunity to work with students at an elementary school in La Porte. I’ve done countless classes for adults. I’m a regular at Baytown’s farmers market, and I plan to start going to the one in Mont Belvieu. It’s all about succulents. And I’m having a blast. Hopefully, making a difference in people’s lives.

“Looking back on everything that’s happened in my life, where I’ve been and where I am now, I feel this overwhelming sense of happiness, this sense of magic. Just knowing that I can do whatever I want to do. Overcoming adversity in every possible way. From drug-addicted parents to being a drug addict myself, to having a stroke, and permanently losing some of my vision. To having a husband, kids, and being able to be a loving person despite what I’ve gone through. I’ve never let anything stop me from doing what I want.

“I’m going to write a book about my life one day. It’s going to be fantastic. Just watch. I can’t wait.”

— Felicia Garcia

The post Magical life blooms after challenging start appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“My husband and I used to work in the refineries, and we made two decent paychecks. But they didn’t last for anything. We struggled buying diapers and formula. So it started with asking people to donate things like that for moms and dads and grandparents taking care of young kids. Now it’s grown to all sorts of food items and necessities. And the response has been great. The community is showing they really care. Whatever goes in the box belongs to whoever grabs it, whoever needs it. A lady across the street says it helps her every single day to feed her kids and have diapers for them. That’s what it’s all about. It’s made an impression on my kids, too. They get excited seeing people drop off stuff, and they have a better appreciation for those needing help.

“There are times when we all just sit down and cry. We really miss our little girl. But through this whole experience, I feel like we’ve gotten so much closer to God. I hope nobody else has to go through what we’ve gone through. I hope I bear all the burden and all the hurt and all the sorrow and all the grief for any other mother. Maybe this is not the testimony that I wanted, but I feel like this is going to help somebody else later on down the road.”

— Roxanna Castillo

The Alicia’s Blessings box is located at 1003 E. James in Baytown. It’s available 24/7 for drop-offs and pickups.

Roxanna also wants to highlight the importance of water safety for young children. A great resource is Teresa Rising, who we featured in a story several years ago. She’s a certified master instructor with Infant Swimming Resource’s Self-Rescue program.

The post Blessing box: ‘Her story doesn’t end here’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I was diagnosed with autism when I was 6 years old. My dad didn’t really understand what autism was. I asked, ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ My mom said, ‘No. It just means that you’re special. It means that you’re unique, not like everyone else.’ Because I liked cartoons and stuff, it was explained to me that I was like the Wolverine in X-Men. Like, that’s my super power.

“Growing up was challenging, just trying to make friends and fitting in. Some people were mean. In junior high, kids would call me weirdo, ugly, all kinds of things. It was hard.

“But that’s where I met coach (Scott) Griffin. He was a football coach. He’s the man who found me and started helping me. He looked at me as a person, not an autistic person.

“When I got to high school, things were different. I got a chance to be manager for the Goose Creek Memorial football team. Coach (Bret) Boyd was really supportive, and the players were all good to me. I started making friends. People started liking me for me. And I cared about them. I felt like they were my brothers. They were my family.

“I was also team manager for basketball and baseball, all four years. It made me feel important. For the first time, it made me feel special. I felt like I had meaning in my life. I had a purpose. It was everything to me.

“Then when I began taking classes at Lee College, coach (Nick) Wade let me start helping out with the basketball team. It was after COVID, and I was trying to get back on my feet again socially.

“This was also the time when my dad had a heart attack. One day we got a call from the hospital, and they said we better come. He’s dying. That was awful. It still makes me sad to talk about.

“But all the coaches and the guys on the basketball team were so supportive. They were worried for me. If they weren’t there for me during that time, I don’t know where I would be.

“I’m so thankful to coach Wade. He gave me a team to be part of again. He gave me a family again.”

— Roberto (Berto) Nunez Jr.

Related:

• Autism ‘isn’t going to stop me’

The post Sports families boost student with autism appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“Grief doesn’t just bring tears. It enters your heart, your bones, your spirit, every movement and breath you take. Losing our daughter Cynthia Dawn’s fiancé, Daniel Blanchard, in 2019 to mesothelioma brought such agony to his parents, Edward and Maria Blanchard, and their family, as well as heartbreak to ours. The Blanchards suffered a loss no parent wants to experience, and Dawn faced the loss of the love of her life.

“Dawn had reconnected with Daniel in the fall of 2018. When she was a freshman at Baytown Lee High School, she had a crush on Daniel, but never told him. Ironically, a mutual hairstylist, Raphael Melendez, shared the story of Dawn’s crush with Daniel. Daniel called Dawn, and that phone call turned into a powerful love story.

“Both Cynthia Dawn and Daniel were living their own survival stories filled with incredible pain and medical obstacles. They understood what it was like to greet every morning with questions, doctors, hospitals, fear, hope and setbacks.

“Daniel had been diagnosed in 2013 with mesothelioma. Dawn was diagnosed with lupus in 1995 at the age of 20. Her original diagnosis would change, become a question mark, but ultimately would fall into the catch-all autoimmune disease, until it was finally labeled granulomatosis with polyangiitis. In 2008 she was diagnosed with kidney cancer, which resulted in the loss of her left kidney.

“With all they had suffered, were suffering, none of it diminished the light and love they shared. They literally lit up a room with their smiles and joy.

“Then on Jan. 26, 2022, the unthinkable agony of grief hit again with our family and the Blanchards. Our Cynthia Dawn, our Wonder Woman, who had lived 27 years with devastating disease, gave her last breath as one of her favorite songs played, ‘Magic,’ by Olivia Newton-John. Our families were again joined by the grief of losing a child.

“In the days following Dawn’s death, my husband, Charlie, our youngest daughter, Carrie, and I barely functioned. All we could do was put one foot in front of the other. All we could ask one another was, ‘What do we do now?’

“In an attempt to do something other than cry, Charlie and I started making earrings. It was something we had done prior to the COVID pandemic. We even attended events where we sold them. Creating became therapeutic. It was as if wire and beads became a guide to help us move forward.

“One day Carrie said, ‘You have so many of them now. Why don’t you give them away, because the act of giving is healing.’ That is how our project we’ve titled ‘4 Cynthia Dawn’ began.

“We knew Dawn and Daniel wouldn’t want to be remembered for their illnesses. They were two people filled with so much life and accomplishment. That is the story they would want told. It is an inspiring story of moving forward when life is doing everything it can to stop you. So we give away the earrings we make with hope whomever receives them will share the story, be encouraged when they wear them, or perhaps pass the gift on to someone else who needs encouragement.

“Dawn and Daniel’s story is one of love, passion to move forward, to not give up or give in to despair. Our families, the Blanchards and the Clevengers, want others to know what it was like to be Dawn Wonder Woman and Daniel Strong. So here’s a little about what each accomplished while battling illness.

“Dawn attended University of Houston, where she was co-president of Pi Sigma Alpha, the National Political Science Honor Society at UH. She interned for Houston City Council, as well as Galveston-Houston Association of Smog Prevention. In 2007 Dawn was selected by Senator Rodney Ellis to serve as a Texas state legislative aide. In December 2007, she graduated magna cum laude with double bachelor of arts degrees in political science and communications-journalism. She later went to work for the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality, where she oversaw the Back the Bay Program. She worked with TV and radio as well as developed PSA posters aimed at improving the environmental quality of Galveston Bay by increasing the public’s awareness of the bay’s value. The campaign was later revamped, and Dawn promoted the slogan, ‘What Happens in Houston, Ends Up in Galveston Bay.’ She loved to travel. Twice she journeyed to London and once to Australia alone, to explore both destinations. Dawn wasn’t concerned about traveling without friends or family. She knew wherever she went, there were strangers waiting to become friends.

“After his devastating diagnosis of mesothelioma, Daniel created his motto for life, ‘Live Life Forward,’ and he did that with passion. He did it knowing his disease was terminal. He did it while taking chemotherapy. He skydived, traveled to Italy, and in 2016 became a marathon runner. He ran 15 full and half-marathons, which included the Houston-Galveston area, Austin, San Antonio as well as Big Sur in California. His chemotherapy sessions at MD Anderson Cancer Center connected him with strangers who all had a story to tell, and a need for encouragement. Daniel would listen to them, learn a bit about them, and even on the days when he wasn’t getting his own chemotherapy, he would return with gifts, give encouragement, and sit with those who were facing the biggest struggle of their lives. Daniel didn’t just speak about love, he lived it.”

— Susie Clevenger

The post Earring project helps keep couple’s story alive appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I think people sometimes imagine what it would be like to get a cancer diagnosis. I always imagined I would be really upset, and break down and cry. The most upsetting part was talking to my children. But with the actual diagnosis and the prospect of chemotherapy, I just felt determined to do what the doctors and my family advised. I sort of surrendered control of the situation to them.”

The dull ache in her stomach was colon cancer. Following surgery, she completed six months of chemotherapy. Because it was a Lynch syndrome cancer that increased her odds of developing ovarian or endometrial (uterus) cancers, a total hysterectomy was next. Unfortunately, her intestine was nicked during that surgery, which led to sepsis. A followup repair procedure, combined with antibiotics, finally resolved that life-threatening issue.

But her cancer journey wasn’t complete, as another slow-growing tumor was found in her abdomen. Doctors opted for a recently approved immunotherapy, which ultimately did the trick.

“It’s been three years since I stopped the immunotherapy. No one who has ever demonstrated a complete response like me has had a recurrence. It’s rare to hear about people with stage 4 who actually survive. So I’m still in a little bit of disbelief all the time. It hits me sometimes harder than others.

“For several years, I wasn’t worried about planning for retirement. I just didn’t think it was going to happen; you know, that I would get that far. It’s kind of like your life’s been given back to you.

“It’s hard to know how I would be different now, had all this not happened. What I really can speak to is the closeness of my family. My children are so close, and that wasn’t always the case. I think this whole experience really showed them the value of family and the power of family.

“The other thing is that you’re not as susceptible to getting upset over the small things in life: the day-to-day stresses and squabbles and disagreements. Things like that are now even more insignificant.”

— Laurie Adcox Haffelfinger

Related:

• They’re in love with RV lifestyle

The post Cancer experience draws family closer appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I had my heart set on a Basset Hound. But then we looked at this breed of dog I had never heard of, called a Rat Terrier. In that moment, I knew I was not going home with a Basset Hound. It ended up being one of the best decisions of my life.

“Samson came at a pivotal time. All my friends were dating somebody or getting married or having kids. While they were having these big life events, he was that thing in my life that I could be proud of. He was sort of my big life event.

“We kind of grew up together. I was in my early 20s, trying to find myself. He was my ride-or-die buddy. He went everywhere with me.

“It was a transitional time for me. I went to college in Alabama, then moved back to Texas, away from all my college friends. So he kind of filled that hole for me.

“As a puppy, he was really fun and goofy. As he got older, he developed this very serious personality. For a while, he was my registered emotional support animal. If I was having a panic attack or anxiety attack, he would sense it and come stand by me.

“When my husband and I got together, we were two pretty stupid young kids unprepared for marriage. We had a difficult time at the start. If we were arguing, Samson would come and stand between us. He would provide that wall of separation, that wall of peace. My husband would recognize it as, hey, we both need a moment here.

“We’ve been married 15 years, and we struggled with infertility. So, quite frankly, Samson was like my child. I babied him.

“It may sound crazy, and it probably is, but I found a lot of my identity through him. Not only did he help me grow up, he helped me get through some really difficult times in my life.

“A couple days before he passed, I had a going-away party for Sam. I wanted to give everybody a chance to love on him. It got very emotional.

“I have this hole in my heart now. Some people may not understand. They may think, oh, he’s just an animal, just a dog. But he was so much more than that to me. We had this connection that you couldn’t understand unless you experienced it.

“Even though I love all my other dogs, there will never be another Samson. He was that once-in-a-lifetime pet.”

— Trina Hattenstein

The post ‘There will never be another Samson’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“My youngest daughter married in October 2016. In 2017, our church offered a Dave Ramsey study on saving and investing for retirement, and how to stay out of debt. I signed the newlyweds up for it. I signed up for it, too, to give them moral support.

“During the video, Dave Ramsey talked about the importance of having a current will. It got me thinking. My husband and I had wills, but they were drawn up when our kids were babies. My husband’s brother was the executor of the estate. Our kids were now out of college. My husband’s brother was dead.

“I went home and told my husband that I thought we needed to update our wills. He agreed. Our CPA directed us to talk to an attorney she liked in Houston. He sat us down in a room together. We were asked to discuss, ‘Do you want to be buried or cremated? How far do you want the doctors to go with your care if you are hospitalized?’ These were topics we never discussed. We were too busy talking about colleges, boyfriends and weddings. After we talked, the attorney drew up new wills, directives to physicians, and powers of attorney. My husband transferred this onto a thumb drive for easy access.

“That was taken care of. I returned to being in charge. I owned my own veterinary practice. I was the one my employees came to when they were having teenager problems or when they were going through a divorce. I held clients’ hands when I had to tell them that the dog or cat they had for over 10 years had a terminal disease. Everyone depended on me.

Morning to remember

“My life changed forever on July 12, 2019. It was a Friday. It was my day off. Usually on Friday mornings, I would get up early, drive out to my barn, feed and clean, then drive to Conroe 1 1/2 hours away, where I had a horse in training. I would spend the morning riding, then groom my horse before driving back to Baytown to fix dinner.

“But this morning my husband said that I woke him up at 4. I told him that I did not feel well and needed to go to the hospital. He sat up in bed, looked at me, then turned to call 911. The 911 operator dispatched an ambulance and a fire truck to our house.

“As my husband was still on the phone with the dispatcher, he looked back to see me collapse across the bed. ‘I think my wife just died!’ he said. He didn’t know it at the time, but the dispatcher knew me. She used to come into my office with her father when she was a child, with their dog to be treated. She grew very stern with my husband.

“She told him to lay the phone down on the bed, do not hang it up. Walk out to the front yard and wave at the fire truck driver so that he would not pass up our house. My husband did exactly as he was told, then came back inside.

“Within seconds, two paramedics charged into our house. They plunged a long needle into my chest, into my heart, and pumped it with epinephrine, and did CPR until one of them declared, ‘I have a heart beat. Let’s transport.’ They told my husband that they were transporting me to the large local hospital in Baytown. They loaded me into a waiting ambulance and drove away.

“The last thing that my husband did before leaving our house was put the thumb drive — with the legal documentation that the attorney had prepared for us the year before — into his pocket.

Professionals take charge

“At the hospital at 5 that morning was a blessing in disguise. A Baytown cardiologist just happened to be in the emergency room when the ambulance arrived with me. At the time, the ER doctor and paramedics thought that I had suffered a heart attack.

“The cardiologist looked at the preliminary lab work that the ER doctor had run. ‘This does not look like a heart attack,’ he said. ‘I would look at her brain.’ The ER doctor scanned my brain, and that’s when he found it. I had a ruptured brain aneurysm.

“My chance of survival was less than 10%. The ER doctor got permission from my husband to Life Flight me to a large major medical facility in Houston for neurosurgery.

“A neurosurgeon successfully coiled my bleeding aneurysm. Over the next week, the chief neurosurgeon joined him as they battled brain swelling and hydrocephalus. No one knew for sure if I would have permanent brain injuries, or if I would even live. They battled on.

The journey back

“My two daughters joined my husband as he waited daily in the neurosurgical unit. My oldest daughter became the comforter. My youngest daughter took charge of communicating with the doctors and nurses as the family spokesperson. Several of their work colleagues and friends arranged for meals to be brought up to the hospital for them.

“A hospital attendant asked my husband if he had legal power of attorney, and did I have a directive to physicians. BOOM! He handed her the thumb drive.

“I spent the next three months in several different medical facilities, learning how to walk, talk, and feed myself again. My youngest daughter bought a communication board for me so that I could communicate with my family. I had been placed on a ventilator and could not talk. I kept that board to remind me of my progress.

“I finally came home mid-October 2019.

Fog begins to lift

“My first memories of my ordeal didn’t occur for almost six weeks after my aneurysm rupture in the third facility that I was in, the TIRR unit at Memorial Hermann Hospital in Houston.

“I remember a sign in my room that said this was the room that Gabby Giffords, former member of the U.S. House of Representatives, occupied after an assassination attempt that left her with a severe brain injury.

“I remember that they brought in a therapy dog to help in my recovery. My family took a picture of the dog lying in bed with me. I remember the day that I was transferred to a transitional rehabilitation facility in a nearby town. TIRR said that I had to leave that day because they already had a patient needing my room. My husband drove me to the next facility during the onslaught of Tropical Storm Imelda. I remember thinking that it was nighttime because it was so dark outside.

“I prayed that God would help us arrive safely in the storm. I also thanked God that this is the man that I married. He continued to fight for me and take care of me. I felt totally helpless to be able to help my husband should we have a problem. I think now that this must be how an animal feels riding in the car, totally at the mercy of its owner.

Simple existence

“When my husband took me to the transitional rehabilitation facility, I was just like an animal. I just accepted everything. I didn’t ask any questions. I never asked about my children, my sisters, my other family, my clinic, my horses or my pets. I simply was there.

“The first day at the center, a patient came up to me. He was from the Virgin Islands. I remember he said, ‘Look at me. Look at me. When I got here, I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t talk. But look at me now. It has been five years since I was able to walk. Do what they tell you, and work hard. You will get better, too. You’ll see.’

“We met with a psychologist once or twice a week. I remember one of my first sessions with him, he said, ‘I don’t think anyone ever told you what happened to you.’ He tossed my medical file to me to read. It was the first time that I began to understand what had happened to me.

“The first few days, the staff had me stay in a wheelchair until they could assess my condition. I had suffered some paralysis on the right side of my body. The doctors had placed a gastrostomy tube to feed me while I was still at the first hospital in Houston because I was having trouble swallowing. I had lost almost 20 pounds.

“I was totally dependent on my caregivers. It was my ‘road to Damascus’ moment. The Lord granted me another chance at life. We are all here to live for Him.

True friend

“A year after I got out of the hospital for the ruptured aneurysm, I was hospitalized again because I was having trouble walking. I was taken by ambulance from our local hospital in Baytown to the large major medical center in Houston where my neurosurgery was done. They kept me for four days. They ran a battery of lab tests on me, X-rays, CAT scans, checked my ventriculoperitoneal shunt, and did viral testing on me. They finally decided that all I had was low blood pressure.

“My bill for four days was over $600,000. My insurance company decided that they were no longer going to pay my hospital bills because they had already paid over $1 million toward my care. Because I’d had their policy for 40 years, I was grandfathered in. They claimed I was exempt from the Affordable Care Act that prohibits lifetime or annual limits on health care coverage. They were no longer responsible. I no longer had insurance. It would be a year before Medicare coverage would kick in. My husband and younger daughter talked to the hospital, and they reduced my bill to $400,000.

“My husband sent the hospital a small payment until our CPA could figure out the best way to pay the bill. A few weeks later, the check was returned with a statement that my balance had been resolved.

“I called my friend J.R., who I had taught Sunday school with for years. J.R. buried several of my old horses that I had to put down. He and his wife came to see me when I was at the transitional rehabilitation facility. I taught one of their children in Sunday school. Later, their son performed my daughter’s wedding ceremony after he became a minister.

“‘J.R.,’ I said, ‘I don’t understand this. They say my balance has been resolved.’ ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘You’ve paid them enough already!’

Today’s reality

“I can no longer perform surgeries, ride a horse, or drive busy roads. I still own my veterinary practice. All my employees stayed that first year. My relief veterinarian quit her other job to run my office. My previous relief veterinarian from nine years ago came and worked during the time my current relief vet was giving her notice to her other employer. Even my sister and my niece, both veterinarians, worked during those first two weeks. Everyone took care of me.

“Almost every day now I walk five miles and do 1 1/2 hours of brain exercises. I am also doing online continuing education for veterinary medicine to maintain my license to practice.

“My life has been changed forever. It has given me a new perspective about what is important. I try to show more compassion and understanding for others. I thank God for the many blessings that I have. Each day and each person matters, and should not be taken for granted.”

Cindy wants people to know that a brain aneurysm is an inheritable condition that can be addressed before it ruptures. The rupture causes bleeding in the brain, sometimes known as a hemorrhagic stroke. She stresses that anyone closely related to a person who had a ruptured aneurysm or hemorrhagic stroke, or who died suddenly of unknown causes, should be evaluated by a medical professional.

The post The day ‘my life changed forever’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“It began late July last year. I had the COVID delta variant. I spent 40 days in the hospital. It kind of freaks me out to talk about it.

“I started at Patients ER. Then I was transferred to El Campo Memorial Hospital. My lungs were in such bad shape, I was on a breathing machine 24/7. I was getting 32 liters of oxygen at one time.

“I was in ICU on a Saturday evening when a father came in to pray with me. I’ve seen enough movies to know when that happens, it’s not good.

“I lost a couple childhood friends while I was going through my stuff. I saw one of them while I was in ICU. So I was wondering, am I next? Those were very dark days. I felt like I was on an island, and I didn’t have a chance to get off.

“But I gradually started to improve. As I got out of ICU, I started saying, ‘Hey, I think I’m going to survive this. I’m going to fight this. And I’m going to win.’

“When I got transferred to Encompass Health Rehabilitation Hospital in Pearland, I couldn’t do anything for myself. Basically, I had to start my life over again. I owe those guys so much. They helped me learn how to eat. I had to learn how to walk. I had to learn how to take a shower and brush my teeth — all the basic stuff.

“I busted my butt in physical therapy. My therapist would tell me, ‘OK, that’s it.’ But I’d say, ‘That’s not it. I’m going to do five more reps.’ I really pushed myself.

“After I finally came home, I had a relapse two weeks later and spent five days at Houston Methodist in Baytown. But since December 1st, I’ve been pretty good.

“COVID fog is a real thing, where you forget stuff. And I have some numbness in my right hip area. They say a lot of COVID patients have nerve problems. I also keep my little oxygen machine in the back seat, but I haven’t had to use it for about six months.

“Through the whole ordeal, I had a lot of support, especially from my three sisters and my two boys. And I had a lot of faith. My mom passed in 2018. So during the worst parts, I spent a lot of time praying to her. I also prayed to the man above. It was a tough deal. But I’m here today, and I’m feeling very blessed.”

— Jerry Michalsky

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The post ‘I busted my butt’ to recover from COVID appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“My hearing loss was a gradual thing. Then two years ago, I lost it completely in my left ear.

“With about 70% hearing loss in my other ear, I really started to feel isolated. I wouldn’t admit it to myself at first, but I was avoiding certain people because their voice was too soft. I stopped going to meetings because I couldn’t hear. Especially when people were wearing masks, it was so difficult to pick up conversations.

“The hardest thing was with my grandkids, the little ones, not being able to understand half of what they were saying. I was missing out on so much.

“I read lips a little bit. And I’ve worn regular hearing aids. But they’re nothing compared to getting this implant. It’s made a huge difference. It provides like the vibrations. So I’m able to distinguish sounds and words and so on. My God, it’s a miracle to me.

“I’ve had it for about six months. Once I get this ear to about 80%, then we’ll go ahead and do the other one. I would recommend it to anybody.

“Throughout all this, the thing that has continued to bring me joy — besides my wife, Raquel — is music. Listening to my albums, picking up the beats, and following along to the words in the songs, has really helped. I’ll put on a favorite album and crank it up. It helps me to concentrate and start recognizing more of the sounds.

“When you listen to music, you really become part of it. To me, it’s the sound, the words, the instruments, the beats, all coming together.

“I’ve loved music since I was a young kid growing up in San Antonio. It will continue to be a big part of my life, until the day I die.”

— Fred Aguilar

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The post Implant ‘a miracle’ for music lover appeared first on The Baytown Project.