First Few ICU Days

 Now that I have alone time for the first time in 20 years, I have time to write all the thoughts that clutter my warped little head. While I'm in Florida I decided to work on something other than just my tan.  Below you will find my thoughts from those first couple of ICU days. As much as I hate to remember,  it is important that I do, especially when I feel the road ahead is just too long for me to take another step, its good to look back and see how far we have come. Please excuse some of the language as I want to be true to how I actually felt.

That dreaded phone call on April 19^th 2013.  I WAS SUCKER PUNCHED. I was driving down highway 40 and listening to a promotional video newly posted on facebook on my phone about an upcoming Club Med Fan vacation for Rick Springfield. (I know I’m weird) My video was interrupted by a phone call that came across as  Private Number. I’m not sure what made me answer as I normally wouldn’t answer a call that was Private but on that day, I did answer. I often wish I had never answered the call. Logically I realize the phone call wasn’t the issue, it was the accident. To me it all started with the call. What if I wouldn’t have answered? My perfect world would still be in tact. But I did answer, and my perfect world fell apart.

I arrived in LA well past midnight. The flight was awful; I couldn’t get there fast enough. We flew into Chicago first. I remember standing at a phone charging station in Chicago surrounded by several people when I received yet another call that was a Private Number. This time it was my pastor, a close friend had called him and let him know about the accident. He asked what had happened and I explained as best as I could in between sobs. I had just found out before we boarded the plane in St. Louis that Lauren had a portion of her brain removed. My obvious question was “will she be able to live a normal life?” They could not give me an answer. At this point our main focus was to try and get her severely damaged brain to stop swelling. I am sure I was quite the sight to the other travelers sharing this phone charging station. I believe we said a couple of prayers together over the phone. It was not a very long conversation and he let me know that Lauren would be in his constant prayers.  We boarded the plane shortly after that and were able to get updates via email from  my oldest daughter Sam. She was in direct contact with Lauren’s nurse. By this time word had gotten out via social media. My facebook as well as email were beginning to blow up with messages. I read them all but could not bring myself to respond, I was still in shock.....or was it denial?

I knew how severe her injuries were after talking to the social worker at the hospital. I was fully aware that her chances of living were very slim. Even though I explained the severity of her injuries, I don’t think Dave really knew how grave her condition was. On the plane I was actually preparing for the worst. My mind was wandering and I was mentally preparing her funeral complete with whom I should ask to be her pallbearers. Who does that? I am still angry with myself for not staying positive. The family sitting behind us was going to Disney Land. The kid was so excited he couldn’t stop talking about it. Normally I would think that was really cute, that day I was less than amused and was ready to throw the kid out the emergency exit.

One we got our rental car we were headed to the hospital. We had about a 30-minute drive. I don’t know how Dave was even able to drive because I was struggling with the simple act of breathing. The charge nurse asked me to call her when we arrived so she could walk us up to the unit. She actually met us in the parking lot. I thought wow; this place really treats their patient’s families well. I was so stupid… the reality was because Lauren was so critical. I can’t remember the charge nurses name but I will never forget her face or her warmth. She had a crazy Afro, I don’t even know if you could call it an Afro, it had many different sections sticking up in every direction. What I remember most was her kindness. (Then I remember that crazy hair. )We had to sign in at the desk in the lobby of the “Saperstein Critical Care Tower”. I remember her telling the guard that we were the parents of foxtrot followed by a series of numbers. I guess Foxtrot is a better name than Jane Doe. “Is this really happening?”  My daughter is registered as a Jane Doe AKA Foxtrot? 

We passed several signs on the way  to the lobby that directed us, each time I read the words “Critical Care Tower” I felt a little piece of my heart dying. The charge nurse tried to make small talk the whole way to the tower, we were all eerily quiet and somber.

Once we arrived to the correct building, we got on the elevator to head up to the neuro unit. The elevator stopped on every floor. Something about Saturday being the Sabbath.(We were at a Jewish hospital) Seriously…every floor, I needed to get to my kid. I believe the neuro unit was on the 10^th or 11^th floor. I remember stopping at every floor and thinking, “Don’t they have a Catholic elevator?”

I will never forget the look of sorrow on the faces of the staff as we walked down that hall for the first time toward Laurens room. Once we arrived in her room there was no turning back. This could no longer be a bad dream or a sick joke. This was real life and my girl was in trouble. Lauren was pretty much unrecognizable. Tubes everywhere, a big plastic neck collar to make sure there were no spine fractures, bags of fluid going in, bags of fluids going out.

Her nurse Bridget immediately started explaining all the monitors and what the numbers meant, heart rate, breaths per minute, ICP (Inter Cranial Pressure) etc. I think she was just trying to fill the time as she was waiting for the resident on call to answer his page so he can deliver the rest of the bad news to us.

The doctor arrived shortly after we did and very somberly and matter of factly let us know how serious her injuries were. He stated that she had severe head trauma and “IF” she lived, we were looking at months and months of recovery, possibly even years. He ended his flowery little speech informing us that she was the sickest patient in the whole hospital. Well thanks for that asshole!

While the doctor was talking, Dave felt faint and had to sit in a chair. That was the exact moment that I saw my rock of a husband crumble. I was helpless; there was nothing I could do for either of them.

The first two days were filled with nothing but grief and despair. All I could do is pray and cry. I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep. I was so nauseous. Mainly because I hadn’t eaten or slept but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than cry. My private conversations with God were pretty dark and desperate in those days. I couldn’t help shaking the feeling that somehow I caused this? Why is it that as mothers we blame ourselves for all the bad things that happen to our kids but don’t take credit for the good things?

Lauren’s roommate Courtney arrived on that Sunday. Her first plane was grounded due to storms in NYC. She was the breath of fresh air that we needed. She walked in with her positive attitude and filled that dark room with light.

 Lauren’s brain swelling was still a big concern. I knew that if her pupils were “blown” that she was essentially brain dead. Due to her continued brain swelling, this was a possibility that we had to face. They checked her pupils on a regular basis with a little pen flashlight. Each and every time they checked her pupils it was if my heart was being squeezed by a boa constrictor covered in thorns. I was absolutely terrified; I wasn’t ready to let my baby girl die. The little flashlight pen they were using had a bad connection. They had to keep shaking it or tapping it on the palm of their hand to get it to work. I wanted to scream, “For Gods sake, get a different fucking flashlight.” Instead I just sat in the corner quietly, terrified of what they may find.

Confessions Of A Soccer Mom Groupie.

 I am shamelessly a die hard Rick Springfield groupie. The definition of groupie; 

noun: groupie

1. a person, especially a young woman, who regularly follows a pop music group or other celebrity in the hope of meeting or getting to know them.

OK so maybe I am not a textbook groupie , or am I? I'm not young.... so there!   It’s hard to explain…..or maybe I should just say instead that it’s hard to understand because I’m not even sure that I totally get it.

      Shaun Cassidy was the third and fourth grade “chosen one”  in the late 70's.  I never jumped on the Cassidy bandwagon…the forever late bloomer I guess. It all started for me when I was in 6^th grade, the year was 1981. Jessies girl started it all. Which is not my favorite Rick tune by the way as I would guess is the case in most of his faithful followers.  My personal favorite is "World Start Turning" More specifically my favorite lyric is "The times I succeeded and the times I failed, You know that no one will remember but me."   Simple but brilliant. Most people out of the Rick circle have never even heard that brilliant little song.

      I have watched my daughters (all 6 of them) go through the same hormone crazed obsession with “Hanson”, “NSync”, “Jonas Brothers”, “Bieber”, and last but not least “One Direction” as I did. It’s all part of growing up I guess. They have all outgrown it, but ironically I havent.

     When I was a kid my childhood room was covered in Teen Beat pics of Rick all over every inch of my wall. My sister left for college and bam I had my own room for the first time in my life.  I quickly turned it into a Rick Shrine. The poster on my door was of Rick in a denim button down shirt sitting with his knee bent. He had on some hideous white boots. I hated the boots but loved the poster.  At 13 I made a mental note that if I ever met Rick I would tell him how ugly those boots were. (I have met Rick several times now) I still haven’t mentioned the boots.

     In the 80’s I played Ricks albums on my cheap record player over and over. I was always a slob with my stuff but my albums were always put back in the sleeve and well taken care of.  I still have them all. Side note I sold all of my husbands old Beatles albums along with the rest of his record collection in a garage sale for $20. I’m not sure if he will ever forgive me.

      Through the awkward years of junior high, Rick was always my imaginary boyfriend, he was the best boyfriend I have ever had. I quickly learned that kissing a poster wasn’t all that great. (I never did kiss the poster on the door with the boots….Ewwww total turn off. I had standards.)

     In the height of my Rick crush years, Rick was in his 30’s. I’m sure he loved it that a bunch of prepubescent little girls were drooling over him singing his carefully chosen lyrics with absolutely no clue what any of them meant.  At least I didn’t….(”He held her tighter and tighter as he danced inside her.”) What……Whoa…I had no clue?  Rick you nasty freak.

     Fast forward to the internet craze. I guess it was around 1997 or 1998 and my sister in law was the first one I knew that had a pc that was connected to the internet. I remember going to her house and typing in the search engine (before google) Rick Springfield and whola…just like magic, 3 minutes later Rick Springfield stuff showed up. OMG I was hooked and knew that I needed to find away to get the internet. This would be so great to keep tabs on my old  “imaginary” boyfriend. My love and devotion never went away but it did lie dormant for years as life happened and I became a big girl.  A few months later we got our own computer and I didn’t stalk Rick news as often as I thought I would. I was busy raising babies. At this time I had 7 kids under age 14, I was changing diapers for 12 years. Definitely a crazy household. 

     In 1999 Rick played in St. Louis, I had just lost a bunch of weight and was able to wear my 13 year old daughters mini skirt to the concert. I had great 80’s scrunched hair and I just new that Rick would spot me in the audience and realize we were destined to be imaginary soul mates.

     Imagine my disappointment when I went home with no eye contact from my dream boat. Oh well at least he still looked and sounded good, I took a whole roll of film with my crappy point and shoot camera. He was like a tiny spec on the photos but I knew that blurry spec was my Rick so it was all good.

     He came to town a couple more times through those years but I wasn’t always able to make it. One time I was out of town for a family vacation, another time was back to school time and my kids all needed new back to school expensive “cool” tennis shoes. I couldn’t risk my kids being shunned at school by having cheap shoes so mommy can go visit her imaginary boyfriend. I figured the expensive shoes would save me the expensive head shrink they would need later because their mother is a groupie.

     Fast forward a few years and I finally had my chance to meet Rick at an intimate acoustic performance that I won on our local Radio station. The year was 2008 and I was a hot mess. I went tanning every day for two weeks, wore fake eyelashes and bought a new push up bra. I made posters with catchy phrases like “This soccer mom of 7 “Is Still Crazy For You” and I have waited 30 years for “Just One Kiss.” I couldn’t wait for Rick to see how clever I was using his song lyrics in my posters. What a weirdo I am, I’m sure Rick was really impressed lol.

     My husband went with me and has always been a trooper when it comes to Rick. Its’ hard to explain but my fascination and admiration is still that of an eleven year old girl. It is still just as innocent and perfect .I have no desire to anything with Rick except maybe go to lunch?  I have always secretly loved that he is married to a blonde girl who is 5‘1” just like me….I know, I know I have serious issues.  Rick did acknowledge my posters  that evening and I was happy that we had a little conversation about them. I was so excited to finally get to meet Rick and actually talk to him….OMG!! I had waited a lifetime for that moment. He was super sweet and I was so excited to see that he treated all of his fans with such respect. Little did I know that our next meeting would blow this one out of the water.

     At that time I had been at one of my heaviest weights and always hated to be photographed. My picture with Rick amazingly enough is still one of my all time favorite pictures of myself despite my weight. I think often times your inner beauty determines your outer beauty and beauty comes from happiness and confidence. I have determined that Rick must be my happy place because every pic I have of us together is a good one. 

Since that time I made a point to never miss another concert if Rick was anywhere close to St. Louis. Besides, back to school shoes are overrated. The kids can always use duct tape to get a little more wear out of their shoes. They should be passing them down to the younger ones anyway.  Sorry kids, no new shoes this year, mommy’s boyfriend is in town. Do you think I may have screwed up my kids a bit?? That sounds normal doesn’t it?

     The 8X10 of Rick and I in 2008 sits on my nigh stand right next to the 5X7 of my husband and I. It has become quite the conversation piece when we have company.

     Most people that know me know that my daughter was critically injured in April of 2013 while jogging in LA when a car struck her and she suffered severe head trauma. After the accident, a friend of my husbands remembered the “conversation piece” 8 X 10 on my nightstand. She somehow was able to get ahold of Rick’s people. I knew the night before he called that he would be calling the next afternoon. It was crazy for me to think that my daughter was in a coma fighting for her life and I was receiving a call from Rick less than two weeks after her accident.  Just knowing that he cared so much about a fan in crisis brought me great comfort. That was the first time I actually flat ironed my hair and put on a little mascara since arriving at the hospital in LA from St. Louis. Nothing Rick did was going to change the situation with my daughter but hearing Rick’s voice on the phone and listening to his kind words made a difference in my demeanor and brought hope to a near hopeless situation. He didn’t do it for publicity he just really cares about his fans. I decided right there and then that I would never mention those ugly boots, maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

     We are now 16 months post accident and my daughter is still recovering from a traumatic brain injury, 4 brain surgeries and 5 months in the hospital and months and months of outpatient rehab later she continues to kick butt and amaze us all.  http://vimeo.com/91575493.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/laurenmurphy

     I was able to see Rick in March of this year at a sound check and introduce myself as the fan from St. Louis with the injured daughter. I started to cry when I talked to him and he looked into my eyes when we talked and really listened, he also teared up when he spoke to me . It was a very emotional moment and I was so thankful that I was able to let him know how much it meant to me when he took time out of his busy day to call. This soccer mom groupie had her “moment” with her imaginary boyfriend and all was right with the world. Who gets to cry with their lifelong celebrity crush?…This girl, that’s who!

I was luck enough to see him again in July and I brought one of my other daughters to the concert and sound check. No tears this time. He was gracious as always and even agreed to take a selfie with my daughter when she asked, later he picked her in the crowd to sing Don’t Talk To Strangers during the concert. 

I didn’t mention to him who I was this time. There was no need. Who cares if he remembers me? He owes me nothing. I am forever grateful for him for giving me so much light in those dark days of April 2013….and for teaching me how to be an excellent poster kisser in the 80's.

    Rick turns 65 this week and I am thrilled that he is still performing and making himself so available for his fans. He recently landed a role in an upcoming Meryl Streep movie and begins filming this fall. I have told everyone I know, like it’s a family member who just did something awesome. Well to me he is family, part of my imaginary family. Its hard to believe the old guy is 65, hell it’s hard to believe I am almost 45. I have been a devoted Rick fan for 34 years….34 years that is crazy. What a true gift it is to be able to meet your childhood crush and to find out he is actually a good egg! Happy Birthday Rick, you make 65 look pretty good. Ill see you next time you are in the Lou. I will be the tan one with the long eyelashes and perky boobs.