White family updates

(copies of emails send to Doris's family and friends 2005)

(Emails are posted in reverse chronological order. Read from bottom up if just checking in.)

Email update on Doris White 2006

Dear friends and family of Doris, Craig, and Abbey White,

Last fall I group-mailed several messages concerning our evacuation during Hurricane Rita and Doris's subsequent hip replacement surgery. After two weeks at a good local hospital, Doris returned home, continued therapy, and gradually resumed her normal life. I spared further messages, which would only have detailed the long, everyday arc of recovery. But now that we've passed the one-year anniversary (Sept. 24) of Rita's landfall near the Texas-Louisiana border and Doris's one-year checkup on 2 Oct. (also Abbey's 22^nd birthday), this old professor seeks closure—therefore, one last message.

Time speeds up as we age and impose our routines on the world—but not last year! The 2005 hurricane season shattered or shook lives all along the Gulf Coast. Then Doris's surgery—her recovery, like the arrival of Abbey in 1984, made familiar experiences a challenge and made us learn daily routines all over again. Doris rose to every occasion despite the pain and debility of MS on top of the trauma. Steady as usual, she oversaw our family's finances and took increasing charge of her meds and care. Above all, she remained a good sport under conditions that would have rendered me infantile.

A year later, walking can still make Doris ache, especially where metal meets bone. Now, though, the rewards of walking can outweigh the pain. Recently Doris had lunch with a friend who showed her a yoga studio where the friend instructs. Doris may try a class there, but for the moment the triumph was simply strolling pleasantly through a potential scene.

Doris returned to her half-time job in Development at UTMB-Galveston. During Christmas break I chauffeured. In the flight from Rita, the darkest moment had occurred as we inched through a southeast Texas town in the hopeless dead of night. One volunteer traffic cop called to another, "She's got winds 170 miles an hour and she's heading straight for Galveston Island"—beyond which Galveston Bay, where our house stands a few feet above sea level.

Rita veered north, but the dread born of that moment haunted me last Christmas as I walked around old Galveston, now standing like a shadow of New Orleans. Here were noble, dusty buildings once dedicated to civic and religious life, adorned with an aesthetic pride now unimaginable: Masonic lodges; synagogues; Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox churches; old private schools of every ethnic stripe, all spared another season. Most of these buildings have been left by the builders' Americanized descendents in a limbo of abandonment, preservation, and reclamation. One tiny, century-old Methodist church was being born again as a Mexican Pentecostal. Meanwhile, at the island's west end, multi-million-dollar vacation homes sprout by the dozen—fresh testaments to our government's unstinting generosity to the investor class.

Those hours Doris and I spent driving to Galveston and back to Seabrook are among the sunniest of our lives together—November 14 is our 25^th anniversary. Despite her ordeals Doris remains bright, gracious, sensible, and humorous. At work she specializes in letters to benefactors on the uses of their charity. (Evangelical control of the Texas legislature makes medical research increasingly dependent on private patronage.) Doris's skills uphold her department's productivity and professionalism, and her position survived UTMB's recent RIF ("reductions in force"). 

As lovely as Doris will always be, our daughter Abbey stands as a lucky roll of the genetic dice. She turns heads everywhere and charts a course all her own. Two months ago she moved out of our house and her waitress-bartender job here on Houston's southeast side, to a rental house on the southwest side and a job with the same franchise. Just before she changed work sites, Doris and I visited the Clear Lake BJ's, whose theme ranges from sports bar to family fare. Abbey showed high work-performance chops in her quietly decisive way. From infancy she's enjoyed a whirl of activity, as long as she's confident in her position. Behind the bar she played the essential server, shifting effortlessly from supplying co-workers to interacting with customers.

Last weekend Doris and I paid a state visit to the rental house Abbey shares with four other 20-somethings, who seem like grown-up Muppet Babies or Ninja Turtles thriving on Diet Dr. Pepper. The scene couldn't have been neater—three girls' order prevails over the upheaval of two boys. Abbey's manager wants to develop her as a trainer, but for now she's learning the new scene and stretching beyond her only-childhood in a house full of unofficial siblings.

Abbey's and Doris's old man queries the cats, tends the garden, turns up rock or Bach, and reads the usual medley of classic lit and escapist nonsense. This spring I cut "storm boards" in preparation for what was predicted as a hurricane season to rival 2005. They'll keep. My Student Companion to James Fenimore Cooper was published Sept. 30 by Greenwood Press. If interested in reading the blurb, search at greenwood.com or click here: http://www.greenwood.com/catalog/GR3413.aspx.

Pardon not referring to your individual messages or news, but everyone doesn't know each other, and attention spans get stretched. Thank you for remembering us and for your support. See P. S. below for a report on Doris's 1-year checkup.

Your friend,

Craig White

Home phone: 281 326 3529

Work phone: 281 283 3380

Craig's email: whitec@uhcl.edu

Doris's email: dhwhite@utmb.edu

Home address: 4018 Shady Springs Drive, Seabrook TX 77586; home phone 281 326 3529

P. S. (Oct. 3) Yesterday Doris rose early for her 1-year checkup with the demigod-like orthopedic surgeon who makes Denzel Washington and Barrack Obama appear ugly and unfit. Since Monday is my busy day for classes, Doris drove herself to his nearby office but directly was back with a good report. Everything has healed well. Hips, knees, and tootsies align. Of the continued aches, Dr. Monmouth said "the prosthesis is settling"; pain should decrease over time. Doris will be "[his] patient forever" at one-year intervals. Will the good doctor, like the Picture of Dorian Gray, only grow younger? Anyway, Doris, one year after, stands straight and steps out.

(Email of 25 Nov. 2005)

Dear friends & family of Doris White,

Pardon me for not writing more often about Doris's condition. Generally events have been few, which is good news enough. Mostly we've managed the gradual parallel processes of healing and therapy. Recently, though, a few landmarks: Last week Doris had a good check-up with her orthopedist; following that, her first physical therapy session happened this Tuesday; and next week she's scheduled to return to work half-time at UTMB. I'll conclude with my usual plea for phone calls to Doris at 281 326 3529

Below are some details if you like. If this is the first email update you've received and you'd like to review previous emails for background, they're all posted at http://coursesite.cl.uh.edu/HSH/Whitec/familyupdate.htm.

A week ago yesterday Doris's orthopedist, the Denzel-looking ex-Harvard football demi-god, descended trailing his usual clouds of glory and appearing pleased with Doris's progress. Because two med students were also trailing him, he reviewed Doris's history with a tour of x-rays, which gave us a clearer sense of how her structure had deteriorated prior to surgery and how Dr. Monmouth--again with archangelic glory--restored all to its proper structure. Most striking was just how much titanium Doris now packs in her hip--I anticipated a ball and socket, which were there, but the x-rays also revealed a wickedly upturned pigtail screw (for stability?) and a descending shaft that looks like it takes up 2/3 of her left femur. FYI, Doris's implant was not cemented, which has something to do with why she's not more immediately functional. She's young for this business, and the non-cemented variety has a longer life. (The cement eventually breaks down, but "eventually" isn't always a problem for an older patient.)

With the good doctor's blessing, we ventured forth Tuesday to physical therapy, where Doris began putting 30% of her weight (which, to my resigned envy, amounts to approximately 30 pounds). Doris continues to handle her wheeled walker impressively, and her shoulders and arms are, in the words of a Chuck Norris infomercial, "gaining definition." The prospect is that in another month she graduates to 70%, then on to full weight.

About returning to work, I'll likely drive Doris to and from Galveston for her first few days. She has cut back on pain meds and become more engaged, restoring order to the checkbook and helping Abbey plan a return to UH next semester. Yesterday the three of us had a sweet Thanksgiving steak dinner, thankful to be together and still working forward. Abbey's been increasingly helpful around the house as well as hopeful for college. She has a new job as hostess at a likeable restaurant, Perry's Italian in Clear Lake. Doris and I marked our 24th wedding anniversary two Mondays ago, and last week I turned 54, whereupon everyone else turned into a whippersnapper.

Thanks to those of you who've called, and everyone please consider calling Doris again or for the first time. With no disrespect to her mind, will, or spirit, she's simply not capable of much at a time besides sitting and talking or watching TV. Every one of your calls has lit her up in a way that I, with my drone-like ministrations, cannot. You'll hear the same bright, sweet friend you remember. Thinking of you today has been a nice part of Thanksgiving--

281 326 3529

(email of 20 Oct. 2005)

Dear friends and family of Doris White,

Thank you for your continued interest in Doris's wellbeing. Two nights ago (18 Oct) at midnight our daughter Abbey and I relocated Doris from Christus St. John Hospital in Nassau Bay (to whom credit and thanks) to our home .8 miles away in Taylor Lake Village. The move took until midnight because I taught a seminar from 7-10 that evening. Abbey helped pack and, throughout the hospital stay, she has helped lift Doris's spirits with good company and magazines. Plus, if there's anyone in the world more fun to watch TV with than Doris, it's Abbey, who has inherited the Hardies' unrelenting attention span as well as their dry-to-withering commentary.

Yesterday insurance delivered a walker, wheelchair, and other gear, which takes up so much room that Doris and Abbey said it was like "baby stuff" and lacked only a swing.

Doris has slept better away from the hospital hallways and the pre-dawn checks on vital signs, and we've arranged her room so that she can both rest and sit up to plan her next round of appointments.

The main physical issues are that Doris is still feeling considerable pain (both from the surgery and the usual aches of MS) and can't put any weight on her left leg. But her corporeal daintiness helps her hop along with her walker . She has to rest after each excursion, but she's been moving around our first floor surprisingly nimbly, all things considered.

Altogether, Doris looks well and is thinking clearly. Only she's quite limited and will remain so for the immediate future at least. She couldn't have performed better in following instructions from her physical and occupational therapists. Parallel to her exercises and procedures, however, she needs time to heal. Just before her surgery, her orthopedist was increasingly alarmed at how rapidly her arthritic hip had deteriorated; the surgery involved bone grafting as well as the expected implant.

Thanks to all of you who have been in touch. Please consider calling or sending a card or both. Given Doris's illness, our social activities have been increasingly constricted, so loneliness is a threat to her morale. She benefits from nothing more than a good chat with an old friend.

Our home phone is 281 326 3529; address: 4018 Shady Springs Drive, Seabrook TX 77586. (Taylor Lake Village is too small for a P. O.) Or just reply to this email as inspired--she enjoyed the printouts of your previous replies that I took to her room.

Don't fear waking Doris with a phone call, and don't bother being overly apologetic if you do. She doesn't mind coming out of a doze for something better, and catching up with an old friend enlivens her mind and conversation considerably. For your benefit besides, she remains her bright and sweet self.

I'd like to note individual thanks now, but I can guess that I'm needed home soon if not before, but anyway you know who you are, with love--

Craig

(email of 5 Oct. 2005)

Dear friends and family of Doris,

Today Doris underwent her hip-replacement surgery, and evidently all has gone well, though much remains.

After some delays caused by equipment issues, Doris entered surgery around 10am CT. At about 2:30pm, her orthopedist found me in the waiting room. A little background: her orthopedist is Dr. Michael Monmouth, a former Harvard footballer who makes Denzel Washington look plain and unfit. Compared to the weary lumpishness of myself and the other anxious souls wincing in front of the huge and loud TV, he appeared as a demi-god in scrubs; better, he appeared pleased. Everything went as he expected, and I could see Doris in her room in an hour.

In that hour I drove home to phone Abbey and Doris's mother and mine. Between calls, my automatic-sprinkler repairman descended to advise and experiment. By the time I disentangled and returned to the hospital, Abbey was already there helping Doris out with Diet Coke, yogurt, and magazines. Within an hour the peaches were returning to Doris's cheeks, though of course she dozed and woke up to mash the morphine pump.

In brief, Doris's little body has undergone a major renovation, but all signs so far indicate the surgery was worth risking.

Tomorrow another arduous prospect opens: physical therapy. Doris intimated that her preferred regimen would be "more drugs and magazines," but she will rise. Thank You for all your sweet and generous thoughts and prayers, from which one cannot separate a good day like today.

Some of you on this mailing list have been added since my initial mailing a week ago. If you wish to read that email's paragraph on our evacuation for Hurricane Rita and a paragraph previewing Doris's surgery, just click on the following link:

http://coursesite.cl.uh.edu/HSH/Whitec/familyupdate.htm

Otherwise I'll write again sometime after Doris returns home, probably late this weekend. Thanks for being out there and still part of our lives--

(Email 28 Sept. 2005)

Dear friends and family of Doris,

I've been meaning to assemble an email list to keep you posted on Doris's upcoming surgery. Wanting to let you know about our personal outcomes with Hurricane Rita led me to try out a message.

Exactly a week ago (Wed. 21 Sept. 2005) Doris, Abbey, and I loaded our little SUV, taking our mellow cat and leaving the jumpy one indoors, and headed for Ruston LA, where D's sister Julia lives and teaches with her husband at Louisiana Tech. Since that's usually a 6-hour trip, we planned to be there around 10 on Wednesday--the time of night was right, but not until Thursday. Somehow one tank of gas lasted 24 hours as we sat in "Park" for hour after hour. Doris conserved, and Abbey took several important turns driving when I drowsed. For most of the drive the forecast kept sounding worse. Rita grew to category 5 and pointed toward a "direct hit" on Galveston. As our house sits near Galveston Bay, that would have meant serious flooding. I kept pulling for the high pressure system to the north to strengthen and send it to less populated areas in southern Texas, but then that high weakened so much that, as you know, the Texas-Louisiana border took the hit. Evidently our area had 7-8 hours of Tropical Storm winds and little rain. As for flooding, Galveston Bay actually drained southward, driven by the winds whipping from the North. Rita's remnants met us in Louisiana--heavy rains and wind along with a power outage on Saturday, but Julia, Don, and Chloe were great hosts as usual, and Doris and Abbey and I did fine as long as our little cat and their big dog maintained a chaste distance.

Monday we drove home in about 8 hours, seeing surprising damage in the inland counties, exacerbated by record-breaking heat. At home, our house was intact and the jumpy cat seemed no worse. Our big yard and deck were fuller of branches and leaves than can be easily imagined, much as when another hurricane brushed by a few years ago. The suffering around Port Arthur and Beaumont, not to mention New Orleans, leaves little room for complaint.

But to the preview, Doris missed her pre-op appointment on Monday morning, but yesterday rescheduled it for this Friday. Next Wednesday, 5 October, Doris will finally have hip replacement surgery. Her orthopedist, who is board-certified and inspires confidence, has consulted with Doris's neurologist and is sensitive to the danger of fever for an MS patient.

Later next week I'll send another email updating the situation. A 2 to 6 week recovery is normal. We look forward to getting to the other side of this process, as Doris's hip condition has deteriorated significanctly over the last few months. Most people who go through this surgery feel somewhat reborn afterward, and we hope the ability to walk less painfully will help other aspects of her condition.

Reply individually (or welcome to phone at number below or 281 326 3529) if you have a fresher email address or want to be left off. Compiling this list cast my mind in many directions to diverse, shining souls such as yourselves. With Doris, I always feel like a lucky guy, but writing you I feel even luckier. God bless you all!