tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74141134731774446442024-03-13T16:18:17.303-04:00JeepmanmattThe thoughts and feelings of a journey through rehabilitation after a critical motorcycle accident.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-87830590375920036512016-09-29T10:11:00.003-04:002016-09-29T10:11:27.308-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Awesome new TV show on ABC called Speechless. </b></span><br />
<br />
Check out the trailer at <a href="http://disabledparent.com/new-tv-show-speechless/" target="_blank">http://disabledparent.com/new-tv-show-speechless/</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://disabledparent.com/" target="_blank">disabledparent.com</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://disabledparent.com/" target="_blank">http://disabledparent.com</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-79240698990177214712016-08-09T13:18:00.002-04:002016-08-10T10:30:07.710-04:00www.disabledparent.com<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I started a new website as a resource for Disabled Parents, please take a look at it and let me know what you think.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FNieCpj3NIQ/V6oP0OHilfI/AAAAAAAAJzs/gJbYHtWdpvYFBMwnPEo9axlLC6dS-7gKgCK4B/s1600/Disabled%2BParent%2BLogo.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FNieCpj3NIQ/V6oP0OHilfI/AAAAAAAAJzs/gJbYHtWdpvYFBMwnPEo9axlLC6dS-7gKgCK4B/s400/Disabled%2BParent%2BLogo.png" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.disabledparent.com/">http://www.disabledparent.com</a> <br />
<br />
<br />
Thanks, Matt<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<script>
(function(i,s,o,g,r,a,m){i['GoogleAnalyticsObject']=r;i[r]=i[r]||function(){
(i[r].q=i[r].q||[]).push(arguments)},i[r].l=1*new Date();a=s.createElement(o),
m=s.getElementsByTagName(o)[0];a.async=1;a.src=g;m.parentNode.insertBefore(a,m)
})(window,document,'script','https://www.google-analytics.com/analytics.js','ga');
ga('create', 'UA-82276568-1', 'auto');
ga('send', 'pageview');
</script>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-10621391660621031542014-04-02T09:52:00.001-04:002014-04-02T09:52:12.071-04:00I'm BackIt's been a long road, but I have finally reached my goal. The Dr. approved my request to return to work full time! I am finally back to supporting my family just as I did before the accident. <div>For those of you who know me, you understand you know how much it means to me to be back. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TbLopquVoOw/UzwWCcpTUdI/AAAAAAAAIU4/kFq-ZUL7MAU/s640/blogger-image-1123209543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-TbLopquVoOw/UzwWCcpTUdI/AAAAAAAAIU4/kFq-ZUL7MAU/s640/blogger-image-1123209543.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-65774026504583893262014-01-08T13:02:00.001-05:002014-01-08T13:02:39.827-05:00Standing Wheelchair<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's not very often that I get a chance to use my standing wheelchair. The feeling of being at my old height and being able to reach certain things is really wonderful. After 10-15 minutes, I begin to get a head rush (All of the blood pools in my lower extremities and my blood pressure drops making me pass-out) and I have to sit-down for a little bit.<br />
The chair definitely gives me the ability to do things that I never could have done without it. The chair has its limits and it's not like a set of legs, but it's the best I've got at this point.<br />
I've attached a picture of myself using the chair to decorate the Christmas tree.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p_ESvRjCDfo/Us2QRIfg_qI/AAAAAAAAIRc/XnXrMmdZSb0/s1600/IMG_7503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p_ESvRjCDfo/Us2QRIfg_qI/AAAAAAAAIRc/XnXrMmdZSb0/s1600/IMG_7503.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br /><br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-79310608119110961202013-10-17T12:54:00.000-04:002013-10-17T12:54:10.445-04:00Psalm 50:15<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was reading Alex's teachers weekly e-mail when I saw the verse of the week.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><u>Psalm 50:15, "Then call on me when you are in trouble, and I will rescue you, and you will give me glory."</u></span><br />
<br />
I think this pretty much sums up my life... I was in serious trouble and called upon God to help me, he rescued me from certain death, and now it is my job to give him Glory. Not much interpetation needed in this one. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g9pN42h80xo/UmAVjqh-jRI/AAAAAAAAIP4/kYsTKgjWYyE/s1600/5015.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g9pN42h80xo/UmAVjqh-jRI/AAAAAAAAIP4/kYsTKgjWYyE/s320/5015.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span class="p"><br /><br /> </span><br />
<span class="versiontext"></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-40939721771287497842013-06-17T19:24:00.001-04:002013-06-17T19:24:27.164-04:00Father's Day<div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); ">I</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> had a wonderful Father's Day this year. My oldest son came to church with us and then my oldest daughter and her boyfriend came and spent the day together with me. It was wonderful to have everyone together and it made me begin to think about how over the years I have changed as a father. </span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">According to </span><a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">http://www.merriam-webster.com/</a><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "> : the definition of a father is</span><strong style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">:</strong><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "> </span><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">a man who has begotten a child. I think it's much more than that</span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I was thrust into fatherhood at 19 years old. My girlfriend was pregnant and she already had a 2 year old daughter. I did what any respectful man would do. I quit college, married her, and went to work to support my new family. I never had a handbook of how to be a father, so I resorted to doing what I had learned from my fathers. </span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">1. My dad and my stepdad both worked hard to provide for their families. I never heard either of them complain and they often took on extra responsibilities just to provide a little more for us. </span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">2. I always knew that my dad and stepdad loved me. They never really said it, but I just knew it. Their actions showed me their love everyday. Affection was implied, not expressed. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">At 19 years old, I found a job in a factory and began bringing home enough money for our new family. I worked long hours and would sign up for any overtime I could so that I could provide additional for my family. I mean, that's one of a fathers duties right? When it was offered that my employer would reimburse for college classes I returned to college. It took several years, many days without sleep, and many missed events with my children, but I finished my degree while working. I was trying to provide more for my family and I felt was my responsibility as a father. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I don't ever remember telling my children that I loved them, I followed the rule I had learned and felt that it was implied by all that I did for them. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Fast forward to today. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I have learned that my role as a father is much different that I originally thought. I am blessed with the chance to learn from my mistakes and I have another shot at this father role. While I still feel that providing for my family is a important role, I know that me spending time with them is just as important. I know that a crucial role that I play is teaching my children how to interact with others by example. As fathers, we are teaching our sons how to treat women and our daughters how they should expect to be treated. I don't believe that it's enough to imply your feelings anymore, I tell all of my children that I love them everyday. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">It is my responsibility to teach my children about The Lord and give them a solid spiritual base to build upon. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I believe that my most important role as a father is teaching my sons how to be great fathers.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HIOAKXXHrCk/Ub-ac_l0JpI/AAAAAAAAIG4/VOu8Q9mg2pk/s640/blogger-image-1019978147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HIOAKXXHrCk/Ub-ac_l0JpI/AAAAAAAAIG4/VOu8Q9mg2pk/s640/blogger-image-1019978147.jpg"></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4tU6uF_D6wI/Ub-akpilr9I/AAAAAAAAIHA/EYAd3RI6tWo/s640/blogger-image-866980643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4tU6uF_D6wI/Ub-akpilr9I/AAAAAAAAIHA/EYAd3RI6tWo/s640/blogger-image-866980643.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-3T25-E5D1LY/Ub-aoxtKOgI/AAAAAAAAIHI/EIo7JWgVvLo/s640/blogger-image-200350299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-3T25-E5D1LY/Ub-aoxtKOgI/AAAAAAAAIHI/EIo7JWgVvLo/s640/blogger-image-200350299.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uvy5A4Ve34s/Ub-aQWgyBcI/AAAAAAAAIGw/wN2gAUscECo/s640/blogger-image--2078010595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uvy5A4Ve34s/Ub-aQWgyBcI/AAAAAAAAIGw/wN2gAUscECo/s640/blogger-image--2078010595.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-45271337841970856792013-01-28T12:20:00.001-05:002013-06-17T19:24:29.676-04:00WheelchairsWheelchairs... There not just for mobility anymore. They double as napping spots as well. <br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-3ZAIv0CaFaE/UQazThxk9jI/AAAAAAAAGpU/3KBk5rVqWuY/s640/blogger-image--1475955629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-3ZAIv0CaFaE/UQazThxk9jI/AAAAAAAAGpU/3KBk5rVqWuY/s640/blogger-image--1475955629.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-48968509008068107982013-01-14T15:10:00.002-05:002013-01-14T15:10:45.152-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear Readers,<br />
<br />
My Uncle Dave sent this to me in an e-mail the other day. I found it so moving; I felt I needed to share it with anyone and everyone that reads my blog. It's a great story that reminds you just how lucky we are. <br />
<br />
Thanks, Matt<br />
<br />
<br />
WHAT HAPPENS IN HEAVEN WHEN WE PRAY?<br />
<br />
I dreamed that I went to Heaven and an angel was showing me around. <br />
We walked side-by-side inside a large workroom filled with angels. My angel<br />
guide stopped in front of the first section and said, "This is the<br />
Receiving Section. Here, all petitions to God said in prayer are received."<br />
<br />
I looked around in this area, and it was terribly busy with so many angels<br />
sorting out petitions written on voluminous paper sheets and scraps from<br />
people all over the world.<br />
<br />
Then we moved on down a long corridor until we reached the second <br />
section.<br />
<br />
The angel then said to me, "This is the Packaging and Delivery Section. <br />
Here, the graces and blessings the people asked for are processed and<br />
delivered to the living persons who asked for them."<br />
<br />
I noticed again how busy it was there. There were many angels working hard<br />
at that station, since so many blessings had been requested and were being<br />
packaged for delivery to Earth.<br />
<br />
Finally at the farthest end of the long corridor we stopped at the door of<br />
a very small station. To my great surprise, only one angel was seated<br />
there, idly doing nothing. "This is the Acknowledgment Section," my angel<br />
friend quietly admitted to me. He seemed embarrassed.<br />
<br />
"How is it that there is no work going on here?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"So sad," the angel sighed. "After people receive the blessings that they<br />
asked for, very few send back acknowledgments."<br />
<br />
"How does one acknowledge God's blessings?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Simple," the angel answered. Just say, "Thank you, Lord."<br />
<br />
"What blessings should they acknowledge?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead<br />
and a place to sleep you are richer than 75% of this world. If you have<br />
money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish, you are among<br />
the top 8% of the world's wealthy."<br />
<br />
"And if you get this on your own computer, you are part of the 1% in the<br />
world who has that opportunity."<br />
<br />
"If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more<br />
blessed than the many who will not even survive this day."<br />
<br />
"If you have never experienced the fear in battle, the loneliness of<br />
imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation, you are<br />
ahead of 700 million people in the world."<br />
<br />
"If you can attend a church/synagogue without the fear of harassment,<br />
arrest, torture, or death, you are envied by and more blessed than three<br />
billion people in the world."<br />
<br />
"If you can hold your head up and smile, you are not the norm. You're<br />
unique to all those in doubt and despair."<br />
<br />
"Okay. What now? How can I start?'<br />
<br />
If you can read this message, you just received a double blessing in that<br />
someone was thinking of you as very special, and you are more blessed than<br />
over two billion people in the world who cannot read at all.<br />
<br />
Have a good day. Count your blessings. And if you care to, pass this<br />
along to remind everyone else how blessed we all are.<br />
<br />
ATTN: Acknowledge Dept.<br />
"Thank you Lord for giving me the ability to share this message and for<br />
giving me so many wonderful people with whom to share it."<br />
<br />
If you have read this far, and are thankful for all that you have been<br />
blessed with, how can you not send it on? I thank God for everything,<br />
especially all my family and friends.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-78320500510566060322012-10-23T20:47:00.001-04:002012-10-23T20:51:00.963-04:00Who are you?Our paster did a wonderful sermon this last Sunday that I felt I just had to pass on through this blog. While not directly related to my accident, it does fit with the overall message. <br />
<br />
Who are you? <br />
<br />
At first glance it seems like a fairly simple question. I am an Engineer that designs composite medical tubing for use in minimally invasive procedures. I am a husband and a father of 4 wonderful children. Easy right? The truth is that these answers are what I am, not who I am.<br />
<br />
Do you know who you are?<br />
Where do I fit? <br />
What is my identity?<br />
<br />
After my accident, I struggled with trying to answer these questions. However, after much praying I realized that my physical condition was WHAT I was and had nothing to do with WHO I was. Several of my what's had changed, however none of my who's had changed. <br />
<br />
- Does my ability to walk have anything to do with my ability to follow God? <br />
<br />
- Does my inability to move my legs somehow influence my relationship with Jesus? <br />
<br />
<br />
So, Who am I? <br />
<br />
I am a Christian, a believer, and a disciple of The Lord. I was given a second chance by God; in order to complete the work he has asked me to do. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1NahhJI8atI/UIc7c4yWNtI/AAAAAAAAGG8/a80nFhD0vsw/s640/blogger-image-1474813763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1NahhJI8atI/UIc7c4yWNtI/AAAAAAAAGG8/a80nFhD0vsw/s640/blogger-image-1474813763.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-56696989348016358212012-09-22T16:03:00.001-04:002012-09-22T16:03:27.107-04:00Be ThankfulThank you God for giving me a second chance at life. I know that you alone gave me the strength and power to make it through this. You are truly my savior. <br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ENsOFwJ0Lhw/UF4ZjTuT8wI/AAAAAAAAGGk/_XVgG_dkNb0/s640/blogger-image-861623685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ENsOFwJ0Lhw/UF4ZjTuT8wI/AAAAAAAAGGk/_XVgG_dkNb0/s640/blogger-image-861623685.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-62323061771881598882012-09-21T17:43:00.001-04:002012-09-21T18:03:57.013-04:00FamilyA family unit is the unit which builds up a person's personality. How you behave and what you become in life is very much dependent on your family life. Psychologists believe that a child learns the most from his or her family life. The way your family members deal with you has a life long effect on your personality. Keeping in view all these facts the importance of your family life cannot be denied. Family unit happens to be the most important part of your life till you grow up. The children are usually closer to their parents and their siblings as compared to any other person in the world. As the children grow up they find good friends, spouses, their own kids and colleagues to share their lives with. Although time brings this change but the importance of family remains there. The children who have a sound family background and who belong to a family with strong family ties are almost always happier. Thus one cannot deny the importance of family life. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This wonderful drawing of our family is courtesy of Alexander. <div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xKbXYi2EaMo/UFzfgVePZHI/AAAAAAAAGGE/VNZ1PzRyrZE/s640/blogger-image-1756555870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xKbXYi2EaMo/UFzfgVePZHI/AAAAAAAAGGE/VNZ1PzRyrZE/s640/blogger-image-1756555870.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-28478642745882233732012-09-15T14:25:00.001-04:002012-09-15T14:25:10.219-04:00A good causeI recently assisted a group of individuals who are working to teach athletes all over the US how to perform CPR. The group is Athletes for America and they recently taught a group of students in Battle Creek. <br />
Schools who participated in the event not only had their athletes trained free of charge, but they also received a free AED from Zoll for their school. <br />
I was honored to work with such great instructors and volunteers. <br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--paAwWTsM_o/UFTIBNYOJ_I/AAAAAAAAGFU/a2mKGSP_3Gw/s640/blogger-image--489594861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--paAwWTsM_o/UFTIBNYOJ_I/AAAAAAAAGFU/a2mKGSP_3Gw/s640/blogger-image--489594861.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-31768055079208868272012-08-22T06:10:00.001-04:002012-08-22T06:10:28.650-04:00Why Me?The day I almost died, I wondered "Why Me", but the truth is that I was given a Gift that day. My gift was a 2nd Chance. Don't take life for granted and be the best you can because you never know what will happen...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--OJgxndd864/UDSwEqt29AI/AAAAAAAAGDw/ay666rw8Pr0/s640/blogger-image-1305060710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--OJgxndd864/UDSwEqt29AI/AAAAAAAAGDw/ay666rw8Pr0/s640/blogger-image-1305060710.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-63880228803637648012012-08-06T14:24:00.001-04:002012-08-06T14:38:10.735-04:00Stolen spaces: Handicap parking in MichiganIt's truly frustrating when you need the extra space a handicap spot provides, and it's taken by someone who is more than capable of walking a few extra feet. I'm glad to see a news organization bringing this problem to light. Click on the link below for the story and video. <br />
<br />
http://www.lansingstatejournal.com/article/20120730/NEWS01/307300078?nclick_check=1<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-W5OpVFRCBNA/UCAL4XEZAVI/AAAAAAAAGDU/Gx-JpUQBBg4/s640/blogger-image--1848161343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-W5OpVFRCBNA/UCAL4XEZAVI/AAAAAAAAGDU/Gx-JpUQBBg4/s640/blogger-image--1848161343.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-18158075665669387032012-06-15T09:37:00.001-04:002012-06-15T09:37:06.910-04:00Tell Yourself<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-n0Kuh31BqZs/T9s6f0Y6D6I/AAAAAAAAFSM/CxH-9kcDaqM/s640/blogger-image--789767976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-n0Kuh31BqZs/T9s6f0Y6D6I/AAAAAAAAFSM/CxH-9kcDaqM/s640/blogger-image--789767976.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-56842232149252469202012-05-27T09:53:00.001-04:002012-05-28T22:37:49.516-04:00Love / HateIt's been a year since the accident and I've now been using a wheelchair now for six months. It's slowly becoming normal that I must use this device every waking hour to get around. It's become both my best friend and my sworn enemy. Much like a relationship, we have good days and bad days together. <br />
<br />
Our good days are filled with proper transfers, correct tire positioning, and weight balance. Every obstacle is conquered with grace and smoothness. The days when everything goes right its almost like a well disciplined team. <br />
<br />
Our bad days are... Well Bad. When we fight, I always end up loosing. Most of the time, I end up sprawled across the carpet or pavement. The chair, still upright, reminding me who is in charge. <br />
<br />
So I have a love hate relationship with this device. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-WeXtSEKundA/T8QwCW8bOBI/AAAAAAAAFB8/7JpZV8zcJVk/s640/blogger-image--944435154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-WeXtSEKundA/T8QwCW8bOBI/AAAAAAAAFB8/7JpZV8zcJVk/s640/blogger-image--944435154.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-39563244240868705142012-05-23T09:53:00.001-04:002012-05-23T09:53:16.729-04:00Trust God<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-E0-tIl8pScY/T7zry1zLsRI/AAAAAAAAE74/oqG3NN0pyyQ/s640/blogger-image--900990977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-E0-tIl8pScY/T7zry1zLsRI/AAAAAAAAE74/oqG3NN0pyyQ/s640/blogger-image--900990977.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-8242869894057245592012-05-21T22:50:00.001-04:002012-07-06T11:36:33.349-04:00Death and EmotionsWe are trained as firefighters and EMS through repetition so that when seconds count we don't have to think about how to accomplish a task, we just do it. From donning our breathing apparatus to drawing specific drug dosages it becomes second nature and we do it without thinking about it.<br />
We become sort of robots that are trained to block out our own emotions and the chaos around us to perform at our very best. <br />
Some of us have become very good at using this ability to block out chaos and our emotions to accomplish a task. I used this ability to speak at my sisters funeral and to be there for my family during their time of need. It can be very useful when you don't have time to process your emotions at that specific moment. The difficult part of this process is remembering that you must eventually come to terms with those emotions or they will come back to haunt you. <br />
In emergency services, this process of coming to terms is called CISD Critical Incident Stress Debriefing. It's a process of releasing this huge volume of stress and emotions in an appropriate way. After a particularly difficult call, a CISD team will be called in to work with the group to release the suppressed emotions. It's an important step in supporting the emotional needs of our emergency services workers. <br />
The takeaway in this is that everyone processes events differently. Don't judge people by the way you see them react, they might be delaying the emotional processing until a later date <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-64761694585028665222012-05-21T22:27:00.001-04:002012-05-21T22:27:25.505-04:00May 20Yesterday was a difficult day for me, it was my little sister Amanda's birthday. <br />
<br />
I remember when she was little, teaching her what day her birthday was. May 20th I'd say... her reply was May 20. I always teased her about that, but I never forgot the date of her birthday just based on the way she said it. <br />
<br />
I miss you very much Sis. Happy Birthday in heaven and I'll see you up there someday. <br />
<br />
Love, <br />
<br />
Your Big Brother<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-33642107713079632572012-05-10T19:35:00.001-04:002012-05-10T19:54:49.466-04:00AnniversaryToday is the anniversary of the event that forever changed my life's path. Yes, one year ago today I was fighting for my life in a bed in ICU. <br />
<br />
How did I spend the day? I spent the day with my family, enjoyed a quiet lunch with my wife, and attended a kindergarden program at Grace Christian. I spent the day with the people I love, the very people I fought so hard to live for. <br />
<br />
Thank you everyone who has been a part of my recovery. Everyone who helped make my home accessible, orchestrated and attended the many fundraisers, donated time and/or money, and those who took the time to pray for my recovery. I am truly in your debt for everything you have done.<br />
<br />
I could not have made it through this without my loving wife. The woman who affectionately earned the title "Mama Bear" from the staff at the hospital. Thank you honey, for everything you have done. I Love You. <br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-26661919329462137032012-04-26T12:43:00.000-04:002012-04-26T22:19:15.359-04:00Why am I able to walk in my dreams?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QaKNH7Dm330/T5lw6fHhvHI/AAAAAAAADjk/tVROnt1o3ag/s1600/dream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QaKNH7Dm330/T5lw6fHhvHI/AAAAAAAADjk/tVROnt1o3ag/s1600/dream.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Why am I able to walk in my dreams?</div><br />
<br />
<br />
Never once, in any of my dreams, have I been handicapped. It's odd to be able walk and run in my dreams, but unable to do so in reality. <br />
<br />
I was once told that dreams are driven by your soul. Evidentially my soul doesn't know that my body is handicapped. <br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-21409618784780628952012-03-26T08:57:00.001-04:002012-04-04T05:31:29.844-04:00Grace ChristianI have to admit, I thought I would be the last parent in the whole world to send my children to a private school. Isn't that why there is a line item on my property taxes marked school? Angie and I attended public school and we turned out fine. My older two children attended public school and went onto college. What's the difference?<br />
<br />
You can tell the difference from the moment you walk in the door. Chances are there will be a student there to greet you at the door. The attitude of these children is amazing. Children of every age are helpful and respectful. <br />
<br />
The teachers are very caring and genuinely want the children to excel. The Grace teachers are much more than just teachers. The night of my accident, Alex's preschool teachers drove an hour to sit and pray with Angie in the emergency room. At Grace, our children are much more than just students, they are part of the Grace family. <br />
<br />
This all started with Angie and I looking for a preschool for Alex. What we found was more than just a preschool, we found a community that welcomed us in with open arms. <br />
<br />
Thank you Grace Christian family, for introducing us to a better education and accepting us into your family. <br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-tEr1bq3CLG8/T3wU7lqqPhI/AAAAAAAADPI/qlH467QrGG4/s640/blogger-image--407574245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-tEr1bq3CLG8/T3wU7lqqPhI/AAAAAAAADPI/qlH467QrGG4/s640/blogger-image--407574245.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-79525876469619196382012-03-05T05:44:00.001-05:002012-03-10T12:35:16.226-05:00A Constant RemiderIndividual: "You are getting really good in that thing (wheelchair), before long you will forget your even in one"<br />
Me: "Thanks"<br />
<br />
What I really wanted to say: I don't really think I'll ever forget that I'm confined to a wheelchair. My whole world is one constant reminder of my situation. Everything I look at and everything I do reminds me of this wheelchair. <br />
<br />
I can't really see this as a valid explanation... Visual: me laying on my back at the bottom of a long flight of stairs trying to explain to the people trying to help me get back into my chair... Oh, I'm sorry, I must have forgotten that I'm in a wheelchair. <br />
<br />
I lived 36 years with the ability to walk and run, and don't think I'll soon forget that. I'm just praying that this will get easier as time goes by. <br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-40948205669551902582012-02-25T16:33:00.001-05:002012-02-26T14:24:04.426-05:00My Little AngelsDear God,<br />
<br />
Thank you so much for stepping in during my accident and allowing me to live through it. I know that you are the savior who held my hand through the darkness. I am so thankful for the opportunity to continue to be a active part in the raising of my two little angels. When the pain is unbearable and the disability restricts my movement, I only look at my two angels and thank you for everything. <br />
<br />
Love, Matt<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-IFO2bfP0U3Q/T0lUzhVRiOI/AAAAAAAAC6Q/rut1CU-Dhyg/s640/blogger-image-424793868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-IFO2bfP0U3Q/T0lUzhVRiOI/AAAAAAAAC6Q/rut1CU-Dhyg/s640/blogger-image-424793868.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7414113473177444644.post-79733213489482130932012-02-19T07:09:00.001-05:002012-02-19T07:17:42.859-05:00By the grace of godLord,<br />
<br />
Thank you, I know that it was your intervention that allowed me to live through the accident. I've learned the term "By the grace of god" quite well. The times when I become frustrated with my condition, I remember the alternative and suddenly the problem doesn't seem so bad anymore. <br />
<br />
I don't know yet what your plan for my life is, but know that I am ready to serve you in any capacity. <br />
<br />
Love, Matt<br />
<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2Px2YVuvKjM/T0DoVJ44U_I/AAAAAAAAC3U/f5lk9OUHDi8/s640/blogger-image--1914246114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2Px2YVuvKjM/T0DoVJ44U_I/AAAAAAAAC3U/f5lk9OUHDi8/s640/blogger-image--1914246114.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09703994274709442749noreply@blogger.com0