Archive for February, 2011

Lyn Riddle

On doing what it takes

by Lyn Riddle

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Feb
22

Ali and Chad Tumblin celebrated the fourth birthday of their oldest son, Ty, last Wednesday.

It’s not overstating the situation to say they’re lucky he’s still alive.

Here’s how Mrs. Tumblin puts it: “To most people food can be a source of healing, but for our family, it can kill.”

Ty was born allergic to milk, nuts, egg, wheat, soy, corn and oats.  This is not your everyday allergy. It’s the sort where his throat swells and if he doesn’t get a shot and to the hospital within minutes his throat will close completely.

And it’s not only if he eats foods he’s allergic to. A reaction also can happen if he touches something or someone with food residue.

Imagine.

That means most restaurants are off limits. Parks. Birthday parties. Other people’s homes. Other people’s children. Other people.

Halloween is a complication. Thanksgiving.

Doctors estimate about 8 percent of children have some sort of food allergy and most outgrow them by the time they’re five.

By the time Ty was 2, he had outgrown his intolerance of wheat, soy, corn and oats. It was a time of rejoicing. Christmas 2009 brought cheers from the kitchen as Mrs. Tumblin baked for her family.

“I’m so thankful for the smell of sugar cookies in the air and yesterday we made Chex mix with his Earth Balance butter,” she said then. “Of course Ty doesn’t eat any of this but his mommy sure does.

That’s right. The whole family is on what they call the Ty diet. It makes a difficult life easier. They don’t have to worry about washing their hands and face every time they eat or touch food. They don’t have to worry about residue on the kitchen table.

For Ty, milk, nuts and egg remain deadly.

Three times, despite all the lengths they have gone through to make the world safe for their son, the Tumblins have had to whip out an EpiPen and inject Ty with epinephrine, a dose that lasts only long enough to get to the hospital by ambulance.

“Sometimes I get so mad that Ty has to go through this that I just want to lay on my back kicking and screaming and pitch the biggest fit anyone has ever seen,” she said. “I just don’t know how to let out all the fear and frustration I have. It’s not the fact that we can’t go out to eat, or go to birthday parties, eat pizza, enjoy family functions; it’s the fact that these foods could kill Ty.”

Ty, a sweet guy who as a toddler could sing songs on the radio like an adult, takes it all in stride.

“He had to come home from school one day because a little girl sat on his head and it was right after lunch so there was residue on her pants and he broke out all over,” Mrs. Tumblin said. “I cried like a baby for two hours and he said ‘don’t worry mom, I got to play in the director’s office.’”

There are always complications, unseen hazards.

Just the other day she called a bakery to order vegan cupcakes for his birthday. No one answered the phone so she went on the website to see what was available. She found out the vegan cupcakes included almonds.

“I would have ordered them and not known,” she said.

Recently, another challenge rose up. Younger son Tanner is too thin. His pediatrician recommended adding to his diet cheese, mayonnaise and eggs.

“Scares me to death,” she said. “Now, I have to face losing my only safe place for Ty, our home.”

That means after each meal Tanner needs a bath, his teeth brushed, all surfaces sanitized. No kissing, no hugging between the boys.

“How do I not rob Peter to pay Paul?” she wonders.

But here’s what a loving mother says – on Valentine’s Day, by the way – to her sons:

“I love my kids more than anything in this world and whatever I have to do I know is worth it if it makes both of them happy and healthy.”

Lyn Riddle

On overcoming obstacles, one at a time

by Lyn Riddle

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Feb
10

Laura Ashleigh Smith doesn’t remember the accident.

And perhaps she never will.

What she does know is she faces months of therapy and treatment to return to the life she once had as a student at Tri-County Technical College, a server at Brioso, a friend, sister, daughter, a driver, an athlete. To reach her dream of becoming a physical therapist.

Anyone who her knows the fact she can walk on a treadmill or balance on a beam is nothing short of a miracle.

Sometime around 3 a.m. on Dec. 10, Smith tumbled down a flight of steep, carpeted stairs, 13 steps to a wood floor. The crash alerted her roommate, who called 911 to the Clemson townhouse. Airlifted to Greenville Memorial Hospital, the then 19-year-old split open her scalp, cracked the base of her skull and bruised her brain.

Her parents, Kelli and Scott, asleep in their Easley home, didn’t hear their phones. A dispatcher at Croswell Fire Department, where Scott Smith is chief, alerted them by setting off his fire pager.

They arrived at the hospital at 6 a.m. to find their child – the oldest of three daughters –  unresponsive but breathing on her own. Over the next days, with Smith in a coma, doctors and family watched numbers. Sophisticated instruments tracked vital signs but also showed if her brain was swelling.

It was. The risk of stroke grew. Surgery offered the only hope.

Doctors said they might have to remove part of her brain. They removed a piece of skull as big as half a sheet of paper on her right side to give the swelling a place to go, but didn’t have to cut into her brain. They presented odds – 50-50 – on whether she would regain consciousness or remain in a vegetative state. There were moments when life became uncertain.

Then came an eye flicker. She opened her eyes.

And every day since has been another step toward her past life.

At first the left side of her face drooped and her previously dazzling smile became hidden behind injury. Now her smile lights up her face.

When the ventilator was removed and she could talk she said, “Where’s my phone?”

Three weeks in ICU, slightly more than a day on the brain injury floor, Smith was transferred to the Greenville Hospital System’s Roger C. Peace Rehabilitation Hospital, the only accredited brain injury rehabilitation program in South Carolina.

The hospital treated 119 patients diagnosed with traumatic brain injury last year.

Smith celebrated her 20th birthday there. On Jan. 14, she was discharged and the family was finally able to celebrate Christmas.

Smith spends most of three days a week at the Roger C. Peace Outpatient Center, which treated 171 patients with traumatic brain injury in 2010.

At the center, she works out. A star soccer player when she attended Easley High School, she has an advantage over others because she is so strong physically, said her physical therapist Elizabeth Holzbach.

Holzbach said the challenge in treating head injuries is that no two patients face the same obstacles in the aftermath.

Smith also spends time in occupational therapy. On a recent day she made a necklace – an intricate design especially for survivors.

She has trouble organizing and sometimes leaves out details needed to understand a story.

But she’s a fighter – her family says headstrong – a trait that will serve her well in the months ahead.

Doctors don’t know how far she’ll go. They’ve said it is likely there will be some lifelong limitations, but she has defied every prognosis so far. They expected an ear injury to result in moderate hearing after a couple of surgeries. She met that mark after one surgery.

She had no balance and can kick a soccer ball. But it is a struggle.

“I’m exhausted, even the smallest things. I could sleep after walking to the mailbox,” Smith said.

Asked if anything about her had changed since the accident, she said she’s afraid of stairs and she can’t get enough chocolate milk, something she never even liked before.

On Wednesday, she’ll be in surgery again, this time to replace the section of skull taken out. It’s another big step, a big one because she’ll lose the blue helmet she has worn to protect her brain.

“I’m going to give it to the lowest bidder,” she said.