"The Art of Now"

I thought I would just take the time to wish everyone a happy holiday season. I can say that my break has been anything but dull - and we haven't even left yet to visit family in Indiana (we are planning to leave in the next hour or so... Indy tonight, South Bend tomorrow).

From researching journalism grad schools to last-minute holiday shopping and gift giving, I've been a bit preoccupied. And, not to mention, I also have come to some important realizations.

Over the last week or so, it occured to me that we all too often "live in the moment." We do things because they seem cool, entertaining, or fun - at least that's the way they looked at the moment.

With these thoughts in my head, I just happened to stumble upon an article from Psychology Today - one of my favorite magazines to read from time to time. Their feature article was "The Art of Now," describing six steps to living in the moment. It perfectly sums up my approach to life, despite my sudden irritation to living "too much" in the moment.

I have always thought in order to appreciate life to its fullest, you must be able to savor every moment for what it is - nothing more, nothing less. This artice said this, too, but also explained how to do it. It emphasized the importance of conentrating on the present... not the past, not the future. Yet, at the same time, I still thought that you would have to focus a bit on both in order to appreciate what is happening at the moment (i.e., you would have to think about future consequences in order to be responsible at the moment). I suppose you don't have to dwell on them, though. Maybe just take note of them and move on, allowing you to enjoy the moment.

This article just goes to show how we all seem to make simple ideas into complex, confusing ones. Whatever is happening at the moment, embrace it. Realize it for what it is, and move on. Too often, I think that "being in the moment" can sometimes be a bad thing. I sit down at 9 p.m., talk to someone, have a delicious snack, watch tv - and all the sudden five hours has passed. Where did the time go? What could I have been doing that could have been more productive?

Life isn't simply about achieving, about being productive constantly. You have to slow down and read a good book, watch a captivating movie, or have a great conversation with someone. Or, as Psychology Today put it, "breathe."

Link to the article:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/pto-20081027-000001.html

Final Drama Story: The Power of Unconditional Love

While there are still minor changes to make, here is my final drama story about two people never giving up on one another even in the toughest of times.

The Power of Unconditional Love

Despite Jim battling health problems, Jim and Theresa McNeile find ways to live life to the fullest

After arriving back home from a trip to China in the fall of 2001, Jim McNeile had gained a lot –new friends, new experiences, and a new appreciation for life. For two weeks, he and his wife, Theresa, traveled along the Yangtze River and saw the Great Wall of China along with other famous tourist destinations. What he was about to lose, however, would change his life forever. After being diagnosed with diabetes years earlier, Jim has had numerous health problems but nothing compared to the intense pain he suddenly felt in his left leg and foot. He had no choice but to see a doctor in his hometown, Elkhart, Ind.

As the doctor examined him, he didn’t have a good feeling about what probably needed to happen with Jim. Not wanting to tell him the inevitable news, the doctor stalled several times. Jim anxiously waited with Theresa. He waited so long that he eventually didn’t care what he heard – he wanted to hear something, anything.

After what seemed like days, the doctor returned back to Jim’s room with a grim face. What Jim was about to hear next would echo in his mind for the rest of his life.

“Jim, you’re going to lose your right leg,” the doctor said solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

Jim stared at him. He knew what he heard, but he couldn’t grasp it. He couldn’t accept it. “Do I have to be in a wheelchair?” Jim asked naively. The answer, as he knew, was yes.

Theresa let the words soak in as well; she tried to understand what it meant. She knew she was willing to help him get around, without a doubt. But she looked over at Jim’s bulky frame and wondered if she could. After all, he was about seventy pounds heavier than her.

“Was I cut out for it? Could I handle it?” she wondered to herself. The thoughts raced through her mind, never seeming to end.

Jim did not want to think about it, either. He simply wanted to relax after his trip, to take in the beautiful sights of trees and flowers in his own backyard. A lover of nature, he always found beauty and tranquility in the mere sight of it. He wanted to come home to his apartment, in Elkhart, Ind., and appreciate what most people overlook – life.

Both Jim and Theresa have certainly learned to appreciate life over the years, with going on many other trips since 1989. Being the managing editor at The Elkhart Truth for 43 years, Jim went on many free cruises in order to promote his business. He and his wife traveled to Greece, London, Ireland and many other places around the world. Being born, raised, and married in South Bend, Ind., both Jim and Theresa have always made it a point to expand their horizons and see the world.

“By the time most people retire and think about going somewhere like Hong Kong, we have already done that!” Jim happily said with a smile.

They simply chose to live life.

Despite being fortunate enough to go on many trips, Jim has had to deal with numerous health complications. His leg amputation and most of his other health problems trace back to his diabetic condition he developed in the 1980s. High blood pressure and cholesterol was something he had to live with every single day. These risk factors eventually led to him undergoing surgery for a carotid artery in 2000 which was almost completely blocked. Many of the doctors said he was lucky to be alive; Jim counted his blessings.

Shortly afterward in 2001, Jim was diagnosed with prostate cancer. After twenty eight days of radiation, Jim bounced back easily. He was a fighter. And once again, Jim counted his blessings.

While Jim remained hopeful and determined through these health complications, the leg amputation was something that he couldn’t quite grasp. He suddenly didn’t feel like the same guy who survived a blocked artery and prostate cancer. Theresa also knew she couldn’t be the same person as before - she had to be a constant care giver, something she was nervous about.

While Theresa didn’t yet know what assistance she would need to provide, she did know one way to help – keep him company at the hospital. She was there during the amputation and for the couple months of recovery.

When Jim woke up from his amputation, with Theresa by his side, he looked down at what was left of his right leg. His upper right leg was wrapped in a light brown bandage down to his knee. He wasn’t in immediate pain, and didn’t feel much of anything. Three weeks later, he was to get his bandage removed. As one of the doctors slowly pulled the bandage off, Jim stared straight ahead. He was nervous about what he might see. Yet when he finally looked down, he saw a much more comforting sight.

“I thought I’d be shocked, but I wasn’t at all,” Jim recalled. “There was no blood or gaping hole – just a smooth spot of skin that felt like the end of your thumb.”

While a doctor was explaining the procedure to him, he called what was left of his leg a “stump” – a common term for an amputated leg.

Jim stared at him and said, “That’s not a stump. That’s my leg.” He wanted to be treated with dignity, with respect.

And so the doctors made sure to never use that word in front of him again.

FINDING DETERMINATION

About a week after the bandage was removed, the doctors gave him a prosthesis to use on his right leg. The doctors warned Jim to be careful since he was an older patient, at 73, and since he was overweight. This didn’t stop Jim from being determined to learn. When he heard their warnings, he could only laugh. “I’m not going to waste away my life!” Jim lightheartedly told them. And Jim made sure he didn’t.

Shortly after he was fitted for his prosthesis, Jim knew that he had no choice but to try to live with the circumstances. He began going torehav sessions twice a week for the next two years, with Theresa by his side. The sessions paid off; Jim eventually learned how to walk with a walker and a cane.

Theresa’s strong desire to learn also paid off - she eventually was able to help Jim get around, whether it be in a car or in their house. In March of 2002, Jim and Theresa were invited on yet another cruise for The Elkhart Truth – this time, to the Danube River in Germany. In the early morning of their flight, Theresa wheeled Jim outside to their navy blue Pontiac minivan. At the push of a button on a remote attached to the passenger seat, a “sit and lift” chair slowly made its way down to the ground. With the supervision of Theresa, Jim got himself up from his wheelchair while using his cane. Though heavier than her, she was able to stabilize him from falling. He sat down on the canvas seat, and they were suddenly on their way to the airport.

When they arrived at the airport, Theresa wheeled Jim into the boarding area.

“Children may now board!” the flight attendant for their plane shouted. Theresa and Jim slowly made their way to the boarding gate. The flight attendants stared at them confusedly.

“We are supposed to board with children; he has a disability,” Theresa said, pointing down to Jim.

The man nodded and put Jim on a canvas-like wheelchair, made specifically for airplanes, and told him he could sit in an isle seat – all while not seeming to really pay attention to him.

“It seems like flight staff just aren’t prepared to help people with disabilities,” Theresa said. “It is already a challenge as it is; we don’t need anymore.”

Nevertheless, ten hours later of constant sitting for Jim finally served a purpose – they arrived in Germany.

Though Germany had its struggles with transportation, they were able to overcome them. They were once again able to get out and live life.

Once back from their trip, Jim continued his therapy with Theresa there every single day of it. Each time he participated in rehabilitation sessions, he had to use his wheelchair, walker, parallel bars and a prosthesis – all of which require an extensive amount of work. The strain on his body became too much; he needed rotator cuff surgery in late 2002. While this surgery didn’t have the same implications as the leg amputation, Jim couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. He tried to help himself recover from the leg amputation only to cause another complication.

Thinking about his efforts sometimes caused him to be frustrated, confused, and just all-around tired. This would cause him to think about not only what he had been through, but also about what he had put Theresa through.

On a cool, rainy day in 2004, Jim sat in his wheelchair and stared out his window from their apartment. His thoughts started running like a steady flow of water from a faucet; they wouldn’t stop.

‘I wonder if Theresa would have married me if she knew she would have to endure all of these burdens,’ he thought to himself. To make matters worse, he felt that he, himself, was the “burden” every single day of her life.

He didn’t have much time to think about it, though - he felt a pain in his left leg that was all too familiar. He knew he had to get it examined.

On November 24, 2004, Jim was admitted once again to Elkhart General Hospital. It was time for his second leg amputation. When learning the amputation had to be above the knee, Theresa panicked. “Are you sure you have to do it above the knee? Can’t you save any of the leg below?” she frantically asked the surgeons.

“There is nothing we can do,” the surgeons told Theresa. “We have to remove his knee as well.” The operation was performed on Thanksgiving, and Jim was thankful for many things on this day - the most important being that his wife was still by side. She went through the whole rehabilitation process with him again; but this time, she had to learn a lot more. Now a double amputee, Jim would need much more daily assistance.

Watching intently at therapy sessions, Theresa learned how to use a sliding board – an essential part of everyday living for a double amputee. Now unable to get up from his wheelchair on his own, Theresa had to transfer him to and from the wheelchair with the sliding board. Every time Jim had to get up to use the bathroom or to get in bed, Theresa lifted his heavy body onto the sliding board and placed him comfortably onto the new surface. It suddenly became much more physically demanding not just for Theresa, but also for Jim.

Once again, Jim tried to not be discouraged despite even more doctors’ warnings about using another prosthesis.

“Jim, you better be careful this time around,” one of the doctors told him. “Using this prosthesis could lead you to a heart attack - it’s larger and heavier.”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I think I’m going to try anyway,” he replied with an eager smile.

DISCOVERING PATIENCE

Though more difficult than after the first amputation, Jim continued with his therapy sessions. As tiring as it was for Jim, Theresa also grew very weary at times – and impatient.

One morning, in early 2005, Theresa was getting ready to give Jim his shot for diabetes. This was just one of many shots Jim receives daily; he has medicine and shots for his heart, blood pressure, stomach, and Parkinson ’s disease. Theresa makes sure he takes each and every one of them at the correct time. With Jim being on a specific routine, Theresa sometimes was too eager to start it. She hardly ever got time alone to herself, and she wanted to schedule a hair cut for her today – the one thing she makes sure she does each month.

“Time for your shot, Jim,” Theresa said, getting closer to him as he laid on the bed.

“Time for your shot, Jim,” Jim repeated, mocking her.

Theresa glanced at him, confused. She did not need this from him; he needed to take his medicine. She had to get on with her day. “Don’t do this to me!” she suddenly exclaimed.

Jim continued to ridicule her, repeating everything she said.

“Just.. just work with me!” Theresa said as she broke down in tears.

She eventually called the doctors to take him off of his current medicine; it wasn’t working as intended. Of course, Jim never meant to act that way and Theresa knew that.

A few weeks later, she peeked into Jim’s room at about 9 a.m. with a shampoo bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other. She was ready to help Jim wash his hair, but he seemed preoccupied. He was watching “Regis & Kelly,” one of his favorite television shows. Just as she was going to tell Jim to get ready, she paused. Jim calmly sipped on his iced tea, softly laughing at the show. Setting the shampoo bottle and washcloth down on the bathroom counter, she let him enjoy himself. His routine could wait; she could be patient.

“Let me know when you are ready, and I will be here,” she told Jim.

UNCOVERING HOPE

In the midst of attending rehabilitation sessions and learning to be patient with one another, Jim and Theresa found themselves back at Elkhart General Hospital. On June 4, 2007, he suffered a heart attack due to congestive heart failure. As always, Theresa stayed at the hospital with him all throughout his stay, which lasted five weeks.

While talking with Theresa about his condition, a doctor looked at her sadly. “He is probably not going to make it, so you may want to prepare yourself. We just wanted to let you know,” he told her.

Theresa tried, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Going back over to Jim, she stared at him as he lay weakly in his bed. Before she could say anything, he began to speak.

“Well, it’s been a good run,” he said tiredly.

Theresa held her piercing gaze with him. “I don’t know why you are saying that because you are coming home with me,” she said.

On Father’s Day, Theresa received a call at 8 a.m. from one a doctor saying Jim was not responding. She rushed over and saw Jim lying completely motionless on his bed. For once, Theresa felt helpless. After looking at him for a while, she sat down in the corner of his room. She waited. She prayed. She continued waiting for many long hours into the night. About 24 hours later, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Jim was awake.

“I just didn’t believe that anything was going to happen to him,” Theresa said. “I refused to believe him.”

And Jim refused to die.

Doctors were stunned. No one knew how Jim came out of his unconscious state, but that didn’t matter; he showed people once again why he was a fighter.

Ever since that day, Jim has been especially thankful for every breath that God has given him. Even though he is confined to a wheelchair, he still does what he loves to do - live life with Theresa.

As Jim sits in his wheelchair outside on his apartment’s patio every day, listening to birds and enjoying the greenery, those thoughts sometime come back – those thoughts about his wife possibly not marrying him.

But his thoughts are usually interrupted by a familiar sound – Theresa’s voice.

“Jim, are you hungry? Are you doing alright?”

A smile suddenly spread across his face. “Honey, I have never been better,” he replied. “I love you.”

Final Trend Story

Though a little late, read below for my final trend story - my most successful one so far! :-) Now to find the perfect publication for it....

Newfound Hope: Autism Service Dogs

With autism on the rise, autism service dogs prove to be beneficial to many

 By: Kelly Martin

Justus Lambert couldn’t relate with people. Always resorting to his toy figurines, he was more relaxed with objects. Star Wars or Transformer pieces didn’t ask questions, stare at him awkwardly, or judge him. “If people we knew came up to us while taking a walk outside, Justus would stick a toy in their face or just stare blankly at them; he never talked,” Laura Lambert, his mother, recalled. He felt safe and secure, yet he never felt more alone.

Justus has autism, a neurological brain disorder that affects language skills, social interaction and abstract thinking. He has tried many different therapies, blood tests, and gluten-free diets, but nothing seemed to drastically help his condition – until Zoro, a trained autism service dog, came into his life.

He was 5 years old when he received the St. Bernard dog, about a year and a half after he was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome – a milder form of autism. After getting the dog from 4 Paws for Ability, a service dog agency in Xenia, Ohio, the Lambert family saw immediate changes with Justus. Now 6 years old, he is able to easily talk with people and make new friends at school. He still feels safe and secure, except now he feels like he has a place in the world – all because of Zoro. The once nervous, eccentric child is now calm and relaxed because of his canine friend – and he is only one of many people who have benefited from autism service dogs.

Currently, 1 to 1.5 millions Americans have autism – and the numbers only continue to grow. Each year, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, diagnoses have been growing at a 10 to 17 percent rate. With more autism diagnoses than ever before, autism service dogs have also been on the rise. It has become increasingly clear that people with autism need an effective treatment of some sort – and that’s where many trained dogs can help. While autism is the fastest-growing disability, autism service dogs have been one of the fastest-growing therapies for many.

Throughout the United States, many service dog agencies have seen increases in the number of applications submitted each month. Karen Shirk, the executive director of agency 4 Paws for Ability, has seen this high demand for service dogs – especially autism service dogs. “About 60 percent of our applications we receive are for autism assistance dogs, with the remainder being for children with a variety of disabilities,” Shirk said. Another agency, Compassionate Paws Inc., has also witnessed this increasing demand. With just obtaining its non-profit status in June of 2007, the small organization in Appleton, Wis., already has about 100 applications pending.

With more people demanding autism service dogs, effective training is necessary. Many agencies vary in how they train them, but most can agree that it is important to select dogs with a laid-back temperament. Pris Taylor, the founder and director of Autism Service Dogs of America, knows that training a more calm, relaxed dog will be helpful for autistic children. “Since autistic children tend to have many emotional outbursts, a relaxed yet protective dog will be able to handle these spontaneous acts,” Taylor said.

From the very beginning, Zoro provided Justus with a calming presence. The night that he received his new canine friend, he did something that surprised everyone – slept in his own bed. Usually too uptight and anxious, Justus never slept by himself. He would throw fits when his parents told him to sleep in his own room. With Zoro at the foot of his bed, though, he became completely relaxed – all tantrums suddenly stopped. “Zoro is his warm and fuzzy security blanket,” his mother said. “Justus has slept in his bed ever since then.”

Once a calm, relaxed dog is chosen, the training process begins. One of the biggest differences between an autism service dog and other service dogs is how they are not just trained to help people – they are also trained to be family companions. Trainers for autism service dogs usually mix these two styles of training together to teach the dog how to respond to autistic children. During this process, the dogs are exposed to different environments – both of the general population and autistic children. “It’s important to put the dog in different situations early on in the training process so that when they really are in those environments, they are used to it and ready to take it on,” Taylor said.

Even though the training by the service agencies is very important, most of the training happens after the placement of the dog in the family’s home. “The bond between the child and the dog is what really counts down the road,” said Vicki Pingel, director of training for Compassionate Paws Inc. “If there’s no bond between them, it’s a flip of the coin as far as if the dog will be an effective tool.”

It was only a month after receiving Zoro when Justus discovered the power of an unbreakable bond. After taking a shower, Justus decided to run off in his towel just as his father was helping him get dressed. Running too fast, he tripped and fell to the floor, splitting his chin open. The family had no choice but to take him to the emergency room for stitches – with Zoro. They were not looking forward to going since they knew Justus was probably going to be overly emotional and unstable.

After throwing a tantrum on the hospital’s bed, however, he looked down to find Zoro’s head resting on his lap. This was the last image he saw before he calmly went to sleep. The doctor was easily able to stitch his chin without any hassles. “I remember the doctor saying, ‘I wish every kid who needed stitches had a dog just like this one,’” his mother recalled. The bond that was beginning to form between Justus and Zoro has only continued to grow – and shows no signs of stopping.

Most autism service dogs, like Zoro, have been trained effectively due to the increased demand for these dogs and the ensuing success after receiving them. Many agencies follow-up with the families that receive their autism service dogs, including Compassionate Paws Inc. “I am always in constant contact with the families,” Pingel said. “They are expensive, but they are always worth it.”

A simple follow-up can reemphasize the good placement of these dogs, as Pingel experienced. She worked with a young boy from Iowa, who received a service dog from Compassionate Paws about a year ago. The family was traveling from the agency to their hometown in Iowa. They decided to stay in a hotel for the night on their way back. In the middle of the night, when everyone was sleeping, the autistic boy decided to wander off near the hotel pool – without knowing how to swim. The mother awoke to see the dog pacing back and forth until he started barking to be let out the door. Once the door was opened, the dog bolted down the stairs to the pool. The entire family then awoke to find out the dog had probably saved their son’s life. If Pingel never bothered to follow-up with this family, she might have never known the power behind the autistic child and dog bond.

Shirk, from 4 Paws for Ability, also follows up with families. She remembers working with a 10-year-old boy who received an autism service dog. Before he got his dog, he constantly told her how he was “from another planet, but no one ever understood.” About a year after the boy received his service dog, she decided to follow up. When he accepted her invitation to come visit 4 Paws for Ability, he suddenly seemed to be proud of who he was. The boy looked up at Karen and said proudly, “I am happy to be from Earth.” From forming a bond with his dog, the boy has learned to accept who he is. “To see such a drastic change is all I can ever ask for,” Shirk said. “That is what makes this job completely worth it.”

Shirk is also happy to be a part of Justus and Zoro’s life. Now whenever the Lambert family goes out for a walk, Justus doesn’t hesitate to talk with people. He carries no toy figurines – only Zoro’s leash. Never hesitating to show off his canine friend, he proudly exclaims, “This is my service dog Zoro.” He isn’t afraid to be who he is, and has a companion by his side to remind him of this fact.

“Zoro is the first thing with a heartbeat that he has become attached to,” Justus’ mother proudly remembered. “It makes this whole process worth it to see him this happy.”

Nine + Eight

Ninety eight.

When I'm on the beach, I usually hate this number. It reminds me of the heavy, thick air that engulfs me in the humid Cincinnati area. So really, I don't even feel like I'm on a beach at all.

When I'm at the mall, this number is never good. Whether I see it on the "sale" sign for a that jacket I really want or on my receipt telling me I just bought that jacket, it makes me feel sick. Especially if it's just for one item. Ugh.

But when I'm in the classroom, it is a good number. If I get this grade in a general-ed class, it's expected. In a marketing class, it's great. In an elective, it's pretty cool.

But in a journalism class, it's awesome! I received a ninety eight on my trend story on autism dogs, and I plan to get it published soon (along with my others.. I figure, what is there to lose?). The fact that my teacher told me I should try to publish it makes me feel a bit more confident about it!

As for my drama/narrative story, I have formed a new, great theme/idea for it.. and I am so excited to edit it! Being a story about my grandpa and grandma, it would mean that much more to me if it actually got published somewhere. Here's to hoping!

Oh, and another ninety eight wouldn't hurt either. :-)

Drama/Narrative Rough Draft

So here is my drama rough draft I typed up last night (yes, and only last night). So there will be a lot of editing on my part.. definitely nowhere near perfect! As always, any suggestions are welcome.


Finding Determination Through Hope and Love
Despite battling health problems, Jim McNeile finds ways to live life to the fullest

By: Kelly Martin


After arriving back home from a trip to China in the fall of 2001, Jim McNeile had gained a lot –new friends, new experiences, and a new appreciation for life. What he was about to lose, however, would soon change his life forever. After being diagnosed with diabetes years earlier, Jim has had numerous health problems but nothing compared to the intense pain he suddenly felt in his left leg and foot. He had no choice but to see a doctor in his hometown, Elkhart, In.
As the doctor examined the situation, he didn’t have a good feeling about what probably needed to happen with Jim. Not wanting to tell him the inevitable news, the doctor stalled several times. Jim anxiously awaited; he waited so long that he eventually didn’t care what he heard – he wanted to hear something, anything.
After what seemed like days, the doctor returned back to Jim’s room with a grim face. What Jim was about to hear next would echo in his mind for the rest of his life.
“Jim, you’re going to lose your right leg,” the doctor said solemnly. “I’m sorry.”
Jim stared at him. He knew what he heard, but he couldn’t grasp it. He couldn’t accept it. “Do I have to be in a wheelchair?” Jim asked naively. The answer, as he knew, was yes.
This was only the beginning of a trying journey for both Jim and his wife Theresa. Over the last seven years, they have realized love can sometimes take work; while it is not easy, it is all worth it in the end.
Jim’s leg amputation and most of his other health problems trace back to his diabetic condition he developed in the 1980s. High blood pressure and cholesterol was something he had to live with every single day. These risk factors eventually led to him undergoing surgery for a carotid artery in 2000 which was almost completely blocked. Many of the doctors said he was lucky to be alive; Jim counted his blessings.
Shortly afterwards, in 2001, Jim was diagnosed with prostate cancer. After twenty eight days of radiation, Jim bounced back easily. He was a fighter. And once again, Jim counted his blessings.
While Jim remained hopeful and determined through these health complications, the leg amputation was something that he couldn’t quite grasp. He knew he had to lose his right leg, but did not want to face this simple fact. He suddenly didn’t feel like the same guy who survived a blocked artery and prostate cancer. His wife, Theresa, also knew she couldn’t be the same person as before - she had to be a constant care giver, something she was nervous about.
A week after the leg amputation, the doctors at Elkhart General Hospital gave him a prosthesis. The doctors warned Jim to be careful since he was an older patient, at 73, and since he was overweight.. This didn’t stop Jim from being determined to learn. When he heard their warnings, he could only laugh. “I’m not going to waste away my life!” Jim lightheartedly told them. And Jim made sure he didn’t.
Shortly after he was fitted for his prosthesis, Jim knew that he had no choice but to try to live with the circumstances. He began going to rehabilitation sessions twice a week for the next few years, with Theresa by his side. The sessions paid off; Jim eventually learned how to walk with a walker and a cane.
Theresa’s strong desire to learn also paid off - she eventually was able to help Jim get around, whether it be in a car or in their house. Watching the therapists intently at the hospital, Theresa always asked, “How is that done exactly? Could you show me again?” She was there every single day of his therapy, always ready to learn something new. Though still unsure of her class=Section2>
care taking abilities, she knew she wouldn’t know until she tried.
Jim’s motivation and determination to participate in therapy sessions eventually led to him needing rotator cuff surgery in 2002. While this surgery didn’t have the same implications as the leg amputation, Jim couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. He tried to help himself recover from the leg amputation only to cause another complication.
Thinking about his efforts sometimes caused him to be frustrated, confused, and just all-around tired. This would cause him to think about not only what he has went through, but also about what he has put Theresa through.
On a cool, rainy day in 2004, Jim sat in his wheelchair and stared out his window from their apartment. His thoughts started running like a steady flow of water from a faucet; they wouldn’t stop.
‘I wonder if Theresa would have married me if she knew she would have to endure all of these burdens,’ he thought to himself. To make matters worse, he felt that he, himself, was the “burden” every single day of her life.
He didn’t have much time to think about it, though - he felt a pain in his left leg that was all too familiar. He knew he had to get it examined.
On November 24, 2004, Jim was admitted once again to Elkhart General Hospital. It was time for his second leg amputation. When learning the amputation had to be above the knee, Theresa panicked. “Are you sure you have to do it above the knee? Can’t you save any of the leg below?” she frantically asked the surgeons.
“There is nothing we can do,” the surgeons told Theresa. “We have to remove his knee as well.” The operation was performed on Thanksgiving, and Jim was thankful for many things on this day - the most important being that his wife was still by side. Looking up from his hospital bed at her, he suddenly knew the answer to his question about his wife: yes, she would have still married me.
She went through the whole rehabilitation process with him again; but this time, she had to learn a lot more. Now a double amputee, Jim would need much more daily assistance. Once again, Jim tried to not be discouraged despite even more doctors’ warnings about using another prosthesis.
“Jim, you better be careful this time around,” one of the doctors told him. “Using this prosthesis could lead you to a heart attack - it’s larger and heavier.”
“I appreciate your honesty, but I think I’m going to try anyway,” he replied with an eager smile.
This time around, he tried even harder. One afternoon, while at the hospital during rehabilitation, Jim formed a very specific goal: to stand up and “pee like a man.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jim told the doctors with a laugh. “You think that I’m just some crazy old guy who uses a urinal all the time and will never stand up to use the toilet. But just you wait!”
He held this hopeful, positive mood all throughout his hospital stay and at the Goshen facilities, a nearby nursing home. Near the end of his stay, he told the nurses that he had to leave three days before Valentine’s Day - no matter what.
“I am going on a Queen Mary cruise around the Mediterranean!” he explained excitedly.
The nurses just stared at him. “How could someone who just lost his second leg be so willing to venture out in the world?” they asked each other.
Even though the nurses wanted him to stay for another week, Jim replied with only two words: “no way!”
He got his way. Jim and Theresa sailed along the Mediterranean for two weeks, taking in the sights and sounds of the bright blue, glimmering sea. When they returned home, Jim picked up just where he left off at the rehabilitation center. He tried using the heavy, yet important, second prosthesis - the one that doctors warned him about using.
On June 4, 2007, he tried too hard. He was admitted to what felt like his second home - Elkhart General Hospital. This time, though, it was because of a heart attack due to congestive heart failure. Later that day, he did something that most people thought was impossible - he survived. Even with a very weak heart, he somehow pulled through. He reminded people why he was a fighter.
He recovered in the hospital for five weeks, but was not allowed to go home just yet. Theresa had to send him to Goshen facilities, a nursing home in the Elkhart area. When she was able to take him home, she ended up learning even more things about Jim - and herself.
Each morning when she woke up, Theresa instantly rose out of bed, ready to start her daily routine of helping Jim. She had to be on a specific schedule, providing him with medicine, food, hygiene, and the ability to move.
One morning, she peeked into Jim’s room, with a toothbrush in one hand and toothpaste in the other. She was ready to help Jim start his day, but he seemed preoccupied. He was watching Regis & Kelly, one of his favorite shows. Just as she was going to tell Jim to get ready, she paused. Setting the toothbrush and tooth paste down on the bathroom counter, she let him enjoy himself. His routine could wait; she could be patient.
“Let me know when you are ready, and I will be here,” she told Jim. Wherever Jim was, she was there - through the good times and the bad.
People are amazed with Jim’s determination and strong will; they can’t believe he has fought off so many complications. Even doctors described him as a “walking miracle” with everything he has endured over the years. He defied all odds.
“He is the kind of person that will just never give up,” Theresa tells people. “He loves life and I think that is why he is still here.”
Jim can only smile at these remarks from Theresa. “I did the best I could - I just do it,” he told people. “I live, I learn, and do everything possible in my time left.”

Drama/Narrative Query Letter

While I usually don't post our query letters - the very first step in the process of writing our papers - I felt it would give people a good idea of what I am wrinting about. As I mentioned before, I chose to write about my grandpa's struggle with being a double amputee and having other health problems along the way. There is so much information to get in the next few days, but I can do it; my grandpa is always willing to talk about it. Read below to get an idea of my next, and final, paper for the year (I took out the editor's name/address at the beginning and mine at the end... didn't think people would be too interested in that!)I chose Notre Dame Magazine for the choice of publication, but it could change along the way. This was just for a start.



After arriving back home from a trip to China, Jim McNeile had gained a lot –new friends, new experiences, and a new appreciation for life. What he was about to lose, however, would soon change his life forever. After being diagnosed with diabetes years earlier, Jim has had numerous health problems but nothing compared to the intense pain he suddenly felt in his left leg and foot. He had no choice but to see a doctor.
As the doctor examined the situation, he didn’t have a good feeling about what probably needed to happen with Jim. Not wanting to tell him the inevitable news, the doctor stalled several times. Jim anxiously awaited; he waited so long that he eventually didn’t care what he heard – he wanted to hear something, anything.
After what seemed like days, the doctor returned back to Jim’s room with a grim face. What Jim was about to hear next would echo in his mind for the rest of his life.
“Jim, you’re going to lose your leg,” the doctor said solemnly. “I’m sorry.”
Jim stared at him. He knew what he heard, but he couldn’t grasp it. He couldn’t accept it. “Do I have to be in a wheelchair?” Jim asked naively. The answer, as he knew, was yes.
This was only the beginning of a trying journey for both Jim and his wife Theresa. Together, they both have realized love can sometimes take work; while it is not easy, it is all worth it in the end.
I plan to interview Jim McNeile about his experience with accepting what life has dealt him and being thankful for what he does have; Theresa McNeile, Jim’s wife and dedicated caretaker for many years; and Father Bill, a good friend of Jim’s who was a part of his journey and self-discovery process.
I think this article will fit nicely with Notre Dame Magazine, since most of their articles are feature stories on a variety of topics, with having a Catholic theme; through Jim’s experience, it has brought him closer to God. Also, being a publication in South Bend Ind., makes it a relevant publication choice since Jim McNeile currently resides here. The proposed article will be 1,000 to 1,200 words and can be available in two weeks.
I am a senior at Northern Kentucky University with a major in marketing and a minor in journalism. I worked as an intern/account coordinator with a small public relations and experiential marketing firm in Newport, Ky. This experience has allowed me to write press releases, personal biographies, testimonies, and a feature article. I was deeply inspired from hearing Jim McNeile’s story of strength and determination, and feel that I can effectively describe his remarkable journey. Having known Jim and Theresa McNeile for many years, I will be able to better illustrate the unconditional love that kept them from giving up on hope, each other, and most importantly, life.

Forming a True Appreciation

Peacefully sleeping, you lay in your bed nestled between soft layers of thick, warm sheets. The steady breathing keeps you relaxed and completely at ease. This deep, restful sleep is definitely the kind you needed - especially after a busy weekend. An alarm clock going off at 10 a.m. is not. Is it really time to get up?

While this was my intial reaction to my alarm sounding off this morning, I couldn't help but to quickly shurg it off. Sometimes you wake up in a particularly good mood for no apparant reason (although, for me, I usually have to have a pretty good reason - I am NOT a morning person!). And I had a great reason - I had a wonderful break and weekend, being with people I love. Besides that, I just felt good. Good about the rest of the school year, good about next semester, good about the people in my life. Just all-around good.

It is amazing how one mood can make such a difference throughout the day. If you start out in a bad mood, chances are it will stay that way; unless, of course, you make a conscious decision to try to change it. And, most likely, you will negatively affect those around you. Likewise, if you start out in a good mood, people will recognize this and appreciate you for it - and eventually take hold of them. The energy rubs off, and people start to share in your joy (and hopefully not negativity).

With that being said, I can definitely say my day today was great. I let my happiness and confidence carry with me throughout the day, and only good things seemed to happen. Lots of us say that we had a "bad" day. But what even made it "bad" in the first place? There are times when most people would agree that some situations are just not good at all; and while this is true, lots of this thinking simply just comes from having a certain mindset. It is just how each person perceives the situation. If what may seem like a "bad" day seems to form, do something about it. Don't let it take over your day - let that motivate you to make it better. Only wallowing in something makes it worse (come on, how do you think I manage to go on every day after wathing the Bengals lose.. or tie?)

My first class reminded me of how we all need to stay in this good mood - and not only that, but we also need to feel like we need to reach out to others. In my feature writing class, our teacher sent us off to observe a scene, take notes, and come back to type out a detailed description of what we saw. I went with another girl on the second floor of the academic building in a lounge area. Here is what I put together in a few minutes:

The second floor of the Landrum building at Northern Kentucky University was bustling. Students rushed in and out of the doors, either leaving behind the bitter cold or their last few minutes of free time. Others casually walked down the hallway, talking with friends or listening to their iPods. One girl, bundled up in a long scarf and a wool, black jacket, craddled a pile of four books in one arm. In the lounge area of the Sociology and Anthropology center, a couple of girls happily chatted and enjoyed eachother's company. The second floor was indeed bustling - except in the far left corner of the lounge, close to the doors.

Wrapped up in her jean jacket and purple blanket, a girl was peacefully sleeping in a black, leather chair. Despite the constant swing of the heavy black doors, she lay completely motionless and at ease. Her brown pony tail lay scrunched against the chair, a bit messed up. Students swung open the doors, laughing, talking, and being loud - all of which usually disturb someone trying to sleep. But not this girI. She was determined to get her beauty sleep. If there is a will, there is a way.

Ok, so it did turn out to be a bit amusing after all. But what I failed to mention is a certain situation what we encounted with a blind student (the other girl chose to write about that part). While we were standing around taking in the sights and sounds around us, a blind student walked in and asked a guy if she could sit down on a bench. He said that there is no room but there are chairs around the corner. He pointed. Forgetting she couldn't see, he led her to where the chairs were. The girl and I happened to laugh at this moment since someone just ran into us; we felt a bit creepy observing everyone around us... stalkerish if you will. But, the laughter could not have come at a worse time. The girl turned in our direction and said, "Please don't laugh. I am trying." To put it simply, I felt absolutely awful. So did the girl that was with me. It seemed easy enough to us - we went over to apologize. While it was a simple act, it made me feel so much better. I know it was just a misinterpreation, but it was still worth an apology. It is just so easy to take things for granted... and sight is one of them. I just hoped I brightened her day a little!

My day progressed as usual, with me being in a light-hearted mood. Yes, everything seems to be a bit brighter when already in a good mood, but sometimes... man, things just go your way. I got two really good grades back today - one on my query letter for our next journalism story: narrative/real-life drama (I am doing it on my grandpa, who is a double amputee, and has been through numerous surgeries that have almost taken his life serveral times). I also got an A on my final Geology exam. And lastly, I brightened someone else's day by giving them a little gift.

While it is nice for things to "go your way" from time to time in order to have a good day, it all just comes down to perception. If you tell yourself it's going to be a good day, it will be (I know, sounds cliche.. but oh so true). Likewise, if you tell yourself the day is going to be awful, well... just brace yourself. The point of all of this? If something doesn't quite go your way, don't dwell on it. Move on and let that motivate you to do some good. The world needs lots of it!