Lori Hammer Recovery Fund
Donation protected
My mom, Lori, suffered a traumatic brain injury in January 2018. Lori was born with an AVM (arteriovenous malformation). This abnormal organization of blood vessels connecting arteries and veins in the brain was unknown to any of us until the brain bleed, hemorrhaging on the left side of her brain. When my sister, Carly, arrived home after a muddled phone call she was fortunately ushered by helicopter to Baptist Medical Center for immediate surgery.
After 6 weeks in ICU, Lori spent a month in Brooks Rehabilitation center, where the differences between what happened to my mom and to many of her fellow patients became clear. I say this to emphasize the difference between what my mom suffered and that of a stroke, which is often the assumed predicament. When Lori finally opened her eyes, there was an immense and immediate connection. What she could not communicate with words, she did with her eyes and, later, her expressions. Now, equipped with a very amazing sense of humor and my dad cheerleading by her side every step of the way, what once seemed like a terrifying loss now appears to be something closer to a whirlwind of growth and recovery.
We all believe in her, but the road ahead is long and I can only hope that this campaign can somewhat alleviate the burden of what seems like a stretch up ahead. More specifically, my dad, Henry, has been the superman and paratrooper there at every beck and call for Lori in a way that actually makes people cry, "Love Actually" style.
I'm going to describe the current situation more pragmatically before I return to the tear-jerking sentiments of my mom and dad's love for one another:
Because the bleed occurred on the left side of Lori's brain, she is now differently abled. The right side of her body has limited mobility and so she is wheelchair bound for the time being. This means she can't care for herself like she once did, and she now requires help with many tasks we often take for granted. In order for my dad to go to work, we need someone around to assist my mom. Lori is working towards regaining movement in her right arm and leg at triweekly physical therapy and biweekly occupational therapy, and with the help of various meds has shown us all that the possibility of her walking again is totally within her grasp.
In addition to this, she is working to speak again at speech therapy. Aphasia is a deeply confusing ailment. For those of you who don't know, aphasia is "a communication disorder that results from damage or injury to language parts of the brain" and in my mom's case, effects her ability to use words or access her vocabulary. (webMD)
It was only at that moment in January that my family realized that the strongest woman any of us had ever known had such vulnerability. Despite the terror of what she's been through, her strength has proven immeasurable. Lori has made unbelievable strides, as you can see in the pictures. If you've spoken to her, you'll know that her vocabulary is inching its way back, as she begins to recover increasingly complex phrases.
The last 8 months has proven tremendous both emotionally and financially. My dad is Lori's hero. He gets her out of bed, shuttles Lori to crack-of-dawn therapy and doctor's appointments, and organizes fun activities that will make her smile despite limited mobility. On top of this, he cooks, cleans, takes her to get her hair done, runs the house and runs a business. My dad takes everything in stride. He pushes through, and hardly thinks to ask for help. I'm here to ask for help for him, for my mom, for my grandma who struggles to understand how this can even be. If you've been lucky enough to know my mom, she's a fucking rock star. We believe in her, and want to see my mom and dad continue to grow and share the serious love that bonds them and our whole family despite all this difficulty.
I know this text is quite long. I so appreciate your taking the time to read even a part of it. I hope to have explained the circumstances, both medically and contextually, in part because it's so hard to do in person. There are many details that I haven't included - so many bumps along the way that couldn't make it into this description. If they're not in this text, it's because we've conquered them, and we're on to the next challenge.
From here, I will outline the costs so as to better explain the goal amount for those of you who are generous enough to donate.
Weekly, out of pocket costs of physical therapy, occupational therapy, and and speech: $630. The aphasia center is $130 weekly. Home care help has been $495, weekly. In January, my mom will hopefully be able to go to an Intensive Aphasia program which costs $11,000 for six weeks. This, plus incidental costs (about 10%) for a year gets us to $75,572. Factoring in other medical expenses and it goes well beyond this.
My family and I truly cannot thank you enough for being a part of this journey. All of our friends have been such support and we're so lucky to have you there for us in whatever way you can.
After 6 weeks in ICU, Lori spent a month in Brooks Rehabilitation center, where the differences between what happened to my mom and to many of her fellow patients became clear. I say this to emphasize the difference between what my mom suffered and that of a stroke, which is often the assumed predicament. When Lori finally opened her eyes, there was an immense and immediate connection. What she could not communicate with words, she did with her eyes and, later, her expressions. Now, equipped with a very amazing sense of humor and my dad cheerleading by her side every step of the way, what once seemed like a terrifying loss now appears to be something closer to a whirlwind of growth and recovery.
We all believe in her, but the road ahead is long and I can only hope that this campaign can somewhat alleviate the burden of what seems like a stretch up ahead. More specifically, my dad, Henry, has been the superman and paratrooper there at every beck and call for Lori in a way that actually makes people cry, "Love Actually" style.
I'm going to describe the current situation more pragmatically before I return to the tear-jerking sentiments of my mom and dad's love for one another:
Because the bleed occurred on the left side of Lori's brain, she is now differently abled. The right side of her body has limited mobility and so she is wheelchair bound for the time being. This means she can't care for herself like she once did, and she now requires help with many tasks we often take for granted. In order for my dad to go to work, we need someone around to assist my mom. Lori is working towards regaining movement in her right arm and leg at triweekly physical therapy and biweekly occupational therapy, and with the help of various meds has shown us all that the possibility of her walking again is totally within her grasp.
In addition to this, she is working to speak again at speech therapy. Aphasia is a deeply confusing ailment. For those of you who don't know, aphasia is "a communication disorder that results from damage or injury to language parts of the brain" and in my mom's case, effects her ability to use words or access her vocabulary. (webMD)
It was only at that moment in January that my family realized that the strongest woman any of us had ever known had such vulnerability. Despite the terror of what she's been through, her strength has proven immeasurable. Lori has made unbelievable strides, as you can see in the pictures. If you've spoken to her, you'll know that her vocabulary is inching its way back, as she begins to recover increasingly complex phrases.
The last 8 months has proven tremendous both emotionally and financially. My dad is Lori's hero. He gets her out of bed, shuttles Lori to crack-of-dawn therapy and doctor's appointments, and organizes fun activities that will make her smile despite limited mobility. On top of this, he cooks, cleans, takes her to get her hair done, runs the house and runs a business. My dad takes everything in stride. He pushes through, and hardly thinks to ask for help. I'm here to ask for help for him, for my mom, for my grandma who struggles to understand how this can even be. If you've been lucky enough to know my mom, she's a fucking rock star. We believe in her, and want to see my mom and dad continue to grow and share the serious love that bonds them and our whole family despite all this difficulty.
I know this text is quite long. I so appreciate your taking the time to read even a part of it. I hope to have explained the circumstances, both medically and contextually, in part because it's so hard to do in person. There are many details that I haven't included - so many bumps along the way that couldn't make it into this description. If they're not in this text, it's because we've conquered them, and we're on to the next challenge.
From here, I will outline the costs so as to better explain the goal amount for those of you who are generous enough to donate.
Weekly, out of pocket costs of physical therapy, occupational therapy, and and speech: $630. The aphasia center is $130 weekly. Home care help has been $495, weekly. In January, my mom will hopefully be able to go to an Intensive Aphasia program which costs $11,000 for six weeks. This, plus incidental costs (about 10%) for a year gets us to $75,572. Factoring in other medical expenses and it goes well beyond this.
My family and I truly cannot thank you enough for being a part of this journey. All of our friends have been such support and we're so lucky to have you there for us in whatever way you can.
Organizer
Carly Hammer
Organizer
Ponte Vedra Beach, FL