Oh what a night.

After watching Man vs. Wild with Will Ferrell last night,

 Mr. Nielson tucked me into bed.

It was nice to laugh.

It was nice to have my pain under control, too. 

I know just when I need my pain meds and when I stay on top of it

I am so much happier. 

My happiness turned to disgust when I caught a whiff of something else.

It was Jimmy!

He smelled horrible.

The worse part was that he was asleep in front of our floor box fan

(whom we call "the mayor") which blew directly to our bed.

 I'd estimate about every 3 minutes I would hear this

 pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst sound.

  It was unmistakably a dog toot.

  Immediately after that dreaded sound, the fan would

 carry the stench directly to our bed

where I would gasp and then almost pass out.

Mr. Nielson had long since fallen asleep and was not affected.

The smell lasted far too long and was preventing me from falling asleep.

When I couldn't take it any longer I nudged Mr. Nielson

 and asked (begged) him to please take Jimmy outside.

Since I was strapped to about 40 different apparatuses for my hands

and a mask over my face, getting out of bed for me really is not really an option.

Mr. Nielson mumbled and pulled himself out of bed to let Jimmy out. 

This is where the story gets really good.

And by good, I don't mean good, I mean really bad.

After finally coaxing Jimmy out of the room, he stepped on a stinky diaper

 that Jimmy had dug out of the garbage and tore all over the kitchen rug.

(Who put a stinky diaper in the inside kitchen anyway???

I can get to the bottom of that tomorrow.)

Mr. Nielson was not happy about having poop on his feet 

so in his madness he kicked Jimmy outside slamming the back door behind him.

After he cleaned up his feet, he came back to bed.

 I could tell he was in a pretty bad mood, and understandably so.   

I pretended I was asleep. 

For the next 45 minutes, while Jimmy was being punished outside, 

he barked and barked as loud as he could. 

I was dying. I looked over at Christian who was again peaceful sleeping

and woke him up. I had to. 

"Christian?" I calmly said,  "Jimmy is barking really loud."

After about twenty minutes of persuading Mr. Nielson to bring Jimmy back

inside and in a frustrating rage he pushed the covers off

and huffed out of our cozy bed.  I knew he wasn't mad at me, just the situation.

He got up only to discover a little blob of

 poop on the rug that he hadn't seen the first time he cleaned the diaper mess.

"What the-...no no, no!" I heard him say.

With Jimmy barking outside at 1:30 in the morning, poop (still) on the rug,

 he went into the bathroom for cleaning supplies then

like a movie, tripped on the bathroom stool. 

Mr. Nielson picked up the stool and threw it into the laundry room. 

"OUCH!"

I proceeded to hear Mr. Nielson spray, scrub, 

and then vacuum all while Jimmy barked outside

and I pretended I was asleep.

 I love my Mr. Nielson!

Becoming Stephanie

My appointment at the Burn Clinic today was actually quite eventful. The good news just kept coming. Dr. Carla said everything was "pretty good" and Walter, (who looks just like Lance Armstrong) and my PT, said he was very impressed by my burns. I mean, not that my burns are impressive but you know, well, you know what I mean. The coloring looks good and pink. Ann, my therapist said she could see a significant difference in my countenance, and I was happy. Mr. Nielson took a day off and went fishing with my brothers. I was so happy to release him from his duties caring for all of us for some fun in nature. I missed him at my side though-especially since today was a "happy consult". My mom came with me instead. We talked about angels, family, children's names, hope, and other things Mom's and daughters talk about including how I hurt when I wake up in the morning. Cindy (my mom) asked me when I was going to post a picture of me here on my blog. I said never. NO WAY.

 But I will.

So here are my eyes.

 

I get to create a new "me" whatever that entails. It hasn't been easy having to reinvent myself. I have (and still do) mourn for Stephanie. Where did she go? Now I look in the mirror and see someone else, but it's still me. It's...well...weird. I have to learn to be me again. I have to accept and hope. And I should stop saying "should" and replace that with "get". I GET to have a second chance at life. I get to enjoy my children even if my fingers don't work. I get to change the way I look at life and how I can somehow help someone else in need. And best of all, I get to have my husband. He is still him and I am still me and we still can have and create the same love we had before.

 I may be a little different Stephanie, but it's still me. What an honor.

Peonies

Katie came to my door early this afternoon carrying a beautiful bouquet of peonies from her backyard,  It was instant happiness. She told me she was on her way for an afternoon of basking in the sun and swimming with her kids.  I was jealous.  My doctors told me to stay away from the sun for almost 2 years. That's crap! That's all I will say about that. This morning, like every morning I lay in bed waiting for the pain to subside enough to get my bones moving. (God bless pain meds).  As I wait, I anticipate the sun to grace her beauty and warm through my window. This morning the sun poked her head over the mountain at approximately 8:34. (I asked Mr. Nielson the time) Welcome, sun, welcome day.

{Here is Mr. Nielson upon his arrival from the hospital. He certainly is enjoying the sun. photo: Chup}

My personal yoga instructor, Laura arrived this morning for our daily session. My body is finding her way back. Scar tissue has really invaded most of the 83% of my body that was burned. Twisting and moving hurt so good. After the session, Mr. Nielson whipped on his Wranglers and made me toast with an egg. He called it his cowboy-style egg. He still is my personal cowboy. A visit from my Aunt Karen, my mom's oldest sister cheered me up considerably. We talked about a plan to go to visit her on Whidbey Island in Washington. I am secretly hoping that a waterfront home will magically come up for sale next door and I will somehow talk Mr. Nielson into buying it for me with all that magical money we will have after finding it buried in a pirate chest in the sand. And then I will plant my own peonies in the backyard. 

Dr. Lettieri or, Dr L.

 

This is Dr. L:

 {Dr. L and Charlotte 2013}

He saved my face and neck among other parts of my body.

He's pretty much saved my life probably a thousand times.

I think is one of the most amazing, incredible, surgeons in the world.

I wrote a lot about him in my book.

He works at Mayo Phoenix and Maricopa Medical Health Center.

He was just awarded the Dr. of the YEAR!!!

Dr. L hates to text, I don't blame him, 

it must be hard with his giant surgeon hands and fingers.

Nie: on being alone

Lying on my bed tonight I type to the sound of the dryer pounding away. My room is musty. Mr. Nielson just bathed Jimmy and he is now curled up near my side of the bed drying out. He stinks. I returned home from another day at the hospital. My burn therapists and doctor examined my body like it was a piece of meat. Jabbing poking, peeling, and even smelling my wounds. Dr. Saffle spoke of my upcoming surgery which will be in two weeks. That news hurts my ears because I don't want to go back.  I don't want to be in any more pain. During the examination, my eyes would sneak from my doctor to Mr. Nielson, who was sitting near the bed that I was lying on. He was there with me and that was all that mattered at that moment. I felt comfort in knowing he was there to help me make hard decisions and care for me the way I needed. I would never be alone with him nearby. You know how sometimes you can be in a room with a million people and yet feel so alone. Never with my Mr. Nielson! And that is how it should be. We are really good for each other. Sometimes we say the exact same things at the same time, like today when we both said mouthwatering at the same exact time. Who says that word (besides a commercial for shrimp or something like that), let alone at the same time!? It's awesome. Today I was kindly given a plate of homemade oreo cookies by my cousin Katie. It was a beautiful treat and they were delicious. I got a hand-written note from my friend, Kimberly Calder who is marrying my second cousin, Ryan Simmons.  Very exciting. I hope I am invited to the wedding (I'll come to NYC, I will!! On a train though).  Now that the children are in bed, my mind reflects on life as I lay in the dark. I think about my upcoming surgery, and how I may be down for weeks. Burns are very difficult because you have to have just the right balance with everything, and just when you think you are making steps forward you take start taking steps back.  It makes me nervous thinking that all this progress I have made in PT will have been for nothing as I lay still after my upcoming surgery. But I am reminded and tenderly assured that I am not alone. Sometimes I reflect on the plane crash and it terrifies me.  I remember as our plane violently crashed to the ground, I tucked my head down in between my knees and prayed. I was not alone then. I felt rather calm in a very troubled moment that seemed to last forever. The plane whistled fast downward and in my head, I saw my children. I saw them laughing and smiling. It was a calm scene in such a dramatic time, and yet another peaceful reminder that I was not alone then, and certainly not now. I am grateful for my relationship with my Maker. He has preserved my life, given me a second chance, and presented me with new challenges that I am ready to face here on this beautiful earth. All that I am is for my children and for my husband but especially for my Father in heaven. I am trying to live selfless in a selfish world and it is hard, especially when I'm the one with the problems. I feel your thoughts and prayers and I certainly know I am never, ever alone. Thank you.

Spontaneous twinkles

I lay in bed last night and then I felt it like a super

 annoying friend (hardly a friend): pain.  

Here it comes again.

So I tried thinking of something else hoping that pain would catch the drift,

  I'm not dealing with you tonight.

 I turned my thoughts to last Saturday when 

I joined my mom and dad on a lunch date. 

 After lunch, dad and I dropped off mom 

at the local nail salon for her pedicure. 

Then he took me and his beloved pup, Nan, 

to his favorite spot near the lake

for an invigorating early spring walk.

The day was winding down and the

 sun sat low behind the golden marsh plants.

 I felt happiness. 

I was happy being with my dad alone.

I was happy thinking about Courtney taking my girl's ice skating

and Mr. Nielson with the boys doing boy stuff.

 Dad and I talked and walked. 

He offered advice and I cried because I needed to hear it

and because I felt the spirit so strong.

* * * 

 Then my mind fluttered away from the lake walk with dad and Nan 

for a moment and now I was suddenly standing in a lush and green field. 

 It was the pick-yourself strawberry fields in Maryland.

 I was pregnant with Ollie, and with the two girls by my side, we

 picked giant red lush strawberries.

It was the summer of '04 and we were living with Mr. Nelson's brother Peter,

his wife Darin, and their three children while we made the transition

from Utah to New Jersey.

 Darin brought me to the farm on an over-cast balmy Maryland summer morning. 

 Claire seemed to find and pick the fattest perfectly-formed berries.

She'd plop them in our bucket while Jane picked them up and devoured them

 just as fast as Claire could pick.

 Red juice stained her white t-shirt. 

 She was so happy, so pleased at that moment. 

I remember how much we (I) looked forward to the weekends

because it brought Mr. Nielson back from a lonely workweek in New Jersey. 

 I could barely keep my hands off him. 

 Speaking of spontaneous, one night we said we were going to a movie

but really we parked the car in a beautiful field to watch the fireflies. 

I felt young and beautiful then.

* * *

 Then I thought about precious summer evenings with the kids in New Jersey

and how we'd know when the day was ending because of 

the spontaneous twinkles that would magically and randomly pop up outside.

Fireflies.  God's magic wand.

 * * *

 Those were happy days and tonight they brought me happy warm thoughts 

while snow softly fell out my window as I lay in pain.

I believe the spirit brought those happy memories to my recollection 

 as a reminder (again) that Christian and I were preserved for a 

purpose and that we would have happy memories like that again. 

Coming Back

Last night, Mr. Nielson slowly walked through my bedroom door. 

I could tell he was sad; he had just packed up our life in 

Arizona into a moving truck. 

He shared how difficult it was for him to say goodbye to our back porch, 

where we had shared so many meals together.

He told me how horribly painful it was to say goodbye to the 

beautiful 2-story tree house he constructed in the backyard with
 his own two hands and the Lil Nies surrounding him.

Mr. Nielson lay next to me in tears. 

He smelled like the cologne I had given him for Christmas last year in that house. 

"I sprayed it on before they boxed it up... it reminds me of Arizona... 

it reminds me of you," 

he softly said. 

"The kitchen was lifeless without you."

Every evening, music would fill the kitchen, and the children and

 I would dance until Mr. Nielson came home. 

As soon as we heard the familiar sound of his motorcycle, 

the Nies would rush outside and 

beg for rides—even before I had the chance to kiss him.

Life in AZ was a treat. The sounds, smells, neighbors,
 family and our home made us so happy and content.

And I miss it so much it hurts.

Mr. Nielson has returned to lots of snow instead of the 

mild weather in Mesa.

The gray skies here in Utah and the snow-capped Wasatch Mountains, 

and I couldn't help but long for Mesa.

A new life has been promised to me here, 

and I hope to play in the snow with the children one day.
Someday, maybe I will even dance again with them in our new kitchen
and even vacuum with the new vacuum that

Mr. Nielson got our new home on Briar Avenue.
There is still hope.

Wound care.

Becca came to the house at 10:00 this morning to do wound care. 

Wound care is when I sit in a comfortable chair naked while Becca

rubs my burns with olive oil and other weird-smelling ointments.

 We laughed a lot and talked about her new house and the paint colors she had chosen.

We also talked extensively about The Macaroni grill, 

which directly correlated to the 100 pounds 

of olive oil she was slathering on my body.

Then I mentioned that The Macaroni Grill sounded good, 

and she immediately called my mom (since Mr. Nielson and the Nies are in AZ)

 and told her that I had a craving.

ANYTIME I say something sounds good, it magically appears.

Everyone says I'm too skinny and in desperate need of calories.

 Mr. Nielson and the children are in Arizona,

 eating fresh citrus and packing the house.

Sometimes I can't believe my life. 

I'll miss our Lazona Estate, the Mullberry Bungalow,

my dishes, the kid's rooms, and the mailman, Donald.

I just miss my old life!!

It just up and changed in a sudden instant.

Moving away from the house and life I used to have is weird.

 Now I am off to PT and G-Dogg at the hospital, who works on my hands until I cry.

 Then says he is sorry and gives me a little break until I feel much better. 

Then he's at it again.

Kirk will help loosen my limbs, and we'll chat about once upon a time

when we both instructed skiing at Sundance.

Those were the good days.

 Shane will show me how to "work it," strutting myself across the PT floor 

(my favorite part is watching him show me!!). 

Hopefully, all this work will allow me soon enough to say goodbye to 

my C-3PO gate and start to walk normally again. 

 Can't wait. Sorry, no photos. My hands still aren't strong enough

to pick up a camera, plus I'm still embarrassed by myself.

New-Nie

It's true.
I am alive.
I look different.
I walk slow...and type slower.
But it's good to be back!!
How can I thank you all?!
I don't think I can.  All the letters, e-mails, stories, toys for the kids, clothes artwork, dolls, love, donations, and all your prayers!!
I will thank you all soon enough, but for now (excuse me, I need to take my 6000th pill for the day),

I will share with you a photo of my hands. 

They are tightly wrapped in what we burn patients call "Juzos" 

or compression garments, and they hurt.  Everything hurts.
Boy, do I have some good stories for you....(raised toilets, special-looking underwear, and stuff like that).

Really, thank you all. Tears gush every time I think about the support from you all.
I LOVE YOU ALL...here's to a new Nie!

...but not so different.

This photo is of Mr. Nielson in his blue burn gloves helping me to bed...like I said, not so different from before the crash.  By the way, I will start endearingly refer to my life before the crash "BC" and life after the crash "AC". 

The Good News To Come

As a result of your prayers and well-wishing, 

this adored blog will be updated regularly on January 16th. 

Please mark your calendars or whatever you do. 

Buy a pinata, and make frozen lemonade; this is a celebration. 

 Nie is back.

Cookie Magazine's Nesting Blog Announces Their #1 Home of 2008

. . . and it is Nies!!!

What a super cool honor!


See it here!

Re-Posted: Original Art By Claire

You have already posted my favorite Nie post 

(a testament to a keen sense of what 

her readers crave, I am sure). It was the post 

"Basket-head mother, not I".

 I have found myself at times overwhelmed by motherhood 

of my two little ones-a baskethead mother for sure...

 It always comes when I have not put my life in focus properly 

and priorities have become skewed. 

 The talk she links to by Elder M. Russell Ballard

 is incredibly moving and never fails to realign my priorities 

and refocus my life. 

 This is the essence of what Nie represents for me: 

a properly focused life filled with family and love. 

 I have a link to the audio of the talk 

on my bookmark bar and listen to it often.

My second favorite post was 

"Original Art By Claire".

 There are so many times over the days when 

I see something that my daughters have done or are doing, 

and I am overwhelmed by them. 

 It happens just as she describes, 

in the middle of daily tasks and family chores, 

and hits you upside the head so unexpectedly. 

 That floored feeling of how wonderful 

your family and life is and the incredible

 grateful feeling that you are here, 

in this moment, appreciating, enjoying, and loving them 

(even if it is over a lady holding a chainsaw!).

Thank you for keeping us updated on Nie. 

 We pray for her every day.

Emily

http://guavajuiceandbananabread.blogspot.com/

Originally posted Wednesday, January 09, 2008

I had just gotten back from taking Claire to school, fed other children, 

picked up breakfast, made beds, folded a little laundry, 

and was taking that laundry into the girl's room 

when I noticed this on Claire's sketch board.

It's awesome.

That is unmistakably a scene from Jack and the Beanstalk. 

 I laughed so hard I almost cried. Then, I was this close to 

getting back into my car and going to school to find her

 and tell her that I think she is so artistic- she'd love to see me at school

visiting her!

Oh, and it looks like the golden harp lady is holding a chainsaw.

For Our Nie

Saturday, Oct. 25th, 7:00 pm

Mountain View High School Auditorium

$15 tickets available now at www.mindygledhill.com

and at Pioneer Book in Mesa

2820 E University Dr # 102

Mesa, AZ 85213 (480) 832-8433

100% of the profits from ticket and CD sales will go towards 

Stephanie & Christian Nielson and the family of Doug Kinneard.

We will be honoring those who have taken care of Christian and saved the life of Stephanie. Please come and help us recognize the exceptional staff at the Arizona Burn Center at Maricopa Medical Center and others!

Re-Posted: And my blog will go on and on...

This is a post from stephanie to christian, detailing the many reasons why she loves him...reading cjane's latest update and imagining the almost impossible task christian has in front of him in trying to adjust to this new reality and to the unknown made me think that reading or hearing this post might give him a reminder of who he is and why he is loved.

-Felicia Cerbone

Originally posted September 23, 2005

READ POST HERE

Re-Posted: Love Letter

i first heard about nie & Christian a couple days after the accident. i spent the days following completely absorbed in the nienie dialogues-reading every entry.

i absolutely fell in love with your sister! when my hubby came home, i told him...."you must meet this precious mom---she the cutest thing ever with a face full of freckles, she has so much passion for her family & i love how she openly shares that on her blog, she loves to serve them by creating fantastic meals, her home looks like the funnest funkiest place ever, her children are yummy, oh i wish she lived next door--but i doubt she'd enjoy suburban atlanta...she'd live intown in some funky fixer upper. you must see this photo of her family. i mean they look like something out of anthropologie but even prettier."

i love in this post how she shares her love & need for christian to be right beside her, how she values life's little moments by letting one of the girls stay home, & i always love it when she includes a picture of her beautiful self....thus her beautiful soul.

blessings to you courtney jane & each of your family

i continue to pray daily for them

xo

paige knudsen

atlanta georgia

www.paigeknudsen.blogspot.com

"LOVE LETTER"

Originally posted January 17, 2008