Divers Alert Network featured Rick in the organization’s magazine, Alert Diver.
Take a look at the digital edition.
A lot of us have been edgy coming up to the anniversary of Rick’s accident. All that tension dissolved when Rick and Cindy sent this out today.
Dear Friends,
On the anniversary of becoming “Bomb Resistant” Cindy and I want tell you all how very much you all mean to us. To say we’ve all had a challenging year would be an understatement but because of the love, care, support and courage you have all shown to us we are safe, well and happy. We would not, could not be here without all of you. Each of you in so many wonderful ways has carried us on your shoulders and made this year one of the most fulfilling we could ever imagine. It is humbling to be counted among your friends because you are all amazing people and we are lucky beyond words to be a part of all of your lives. We look forward to the future and the new memories we will all make together secure in the knowledge that our circle of friemds is strong, resilient and capable of anything.
On a lighter note some of you have recommended I “lay low” for the next 48 hours so there is no chance of any further craziness in our lives. Per your request I have created a special safety suit (see attached picture) which I will wear today & tomorrow. Additionally I will only eat soft food, stay away from open flames, carry a first aid kit and keep several communication devices with me at all times as a precaution.
Love You All!
Rick & Cindy
Dec 252011
For the last 8 years or so, Cindy, Rick and Lucky have joined us in Greensboro for breakfast on Christmas morning as they head to the mountains to see his mom. Last year, it was snowing — a beautiful snow that blanketed the mountains and led to happy play for Rick and Lucky. Cindy took some great photos of them in the snow.
None of us could know that a little more than a week later, an explosion would shatter their lives. I can say that we all gained a new appreciation for the word “grateful” in the months that followed. Grateful first of all that Rick survived. That he withstood months of painful treatment, that he responded like the champ we knew he was all along. Grateful for every milestone, and the fact that he reached each one earlier than anyone predicted.
As we get closer to the anniversary, I feel a flutter in my chest from time to time. I can’t help but think back to those first, scary days. When Cindy, Rick and Lucky arrived this morning, it was an affirmation that we did all get through it. Rick is himself again, and most of all, he’s here.
“Rick is everybody’s Christmas present this year,” Cindy said.
Couldn’t have said it better myself. So cherish the ones you love. Don’t miss a chance to tell them how much they mean to you. And here’s to a happier New Year.
Nov 202011
I started writing a Sunday column for the News & Record this month. This one, published today, is for you, Rick.
I did not pack a black dress.
I thought about it, in those crazy moments after the phone call from my best friend, Cindy, on Jan. 4. A scuba tank filled with oxygen had blown up in her Fayetteville garage the night before, severing her husband’s left arm at the elbow and leaving him badly burned.
After being treated for minor injuries herself, she was headed to The North Carolina Jaycee Burn Center in Chapel Hill to be with Rick, and wanted me to meet her there. I was packing because I planned to be at her side for as long as she needed me.
I stood over my suitcase with the dress in my hand. I put in, then took it out. It sat there on the bed, a stark reminder of what might lie ahead.
I am a practical woman. A realist. I knew how badly he was hurt, and what the odds of survival probably were. That woman put the dress back in.
But I am also a woman of faith — not just in God, but in people. If I packed that dress, it seemed to me I would giving up on Rick, when I knew he would never give up. That woman took the dress back out. And hung it in the closet.
Rick would tell us later, after he emerged from more than two months in an induced coma, that as he lay in the front yard of his home, being tended by the EMTs, he had a moment in which he knew he could just let go. He didn’t have to think twice. Uh-Uh. No way, he thought. I’m not done yet.
In the next few months, those of us in the circle of support became experts on gloving and gowning and Burn Center protocol. We learned about skin grafts and ventilators, black sponges and the problems associated with traumatic amputation.
Rick, an underwater videographer, battled through dark dreams of drowning and torture. Though they said he could not hear us, we talked to him, kidded him, touched the few places that weren’t burned. We would find out later that we did break through, making appearances in his dream state that comforted him.
Cindy filled his room with posters of underwater scenes; my kids and others drew pictures for his room. We told the nurses and doctors all of our favorite Rick stories. We told them to get ready, because when he woke up, they would be entertained by his wit and surprised by his determination.
In January, they had said he might be ready to leave the Burn Center in June, but that was being optimistic.
He walked out the door March 23 after multiple surgeries and skin grafts, rehabilitation and therapy. He still had a long way to go, faced with learning how to open the orange juice container, get dressed and perform all the everyday tasks of life with one hand.
By July, he was practice diving in a swimming pool. At the end of October, he performed his first ocean dive since the accident.
So I do not have to think very hard to say what I am thankful for this year. I am thankful, most of all, that Rick is alive and well. But in what has been one of the most challenging years of my own life, I am also thankful that it reminded me of lessons I learned long ago, but sometimes forget.
It reminded me that you have to find a way to laugh, no matter how bad things are. That you have to be more determined than you think possible.
It reminded me that you need to have faith, not just in whatever god you worship, but in yourself. In each other.
There have been times in recent months when I have felt as discouraged as I ever have in my life. I think about Rick, and this is my answer:
I’m not letting go. I’m not done yet.
Nov 202011
Here are photos from Rick’s first ocean dive since the accident — appropriately on the Queen Anne’s Revenge — in late October.
