2011- Growing Stronger- Backstory continued...

            The First Quarter- Growing Stronger

God is completely responsible for where I am today; alive and improving.

In 2008, I was sent home to die- and at one point, I did. Other occasions were just "close calls".
For more than two years I teetered on the brink.  Medical specialists knew little to do for me
beyond prescribing a myriad of medicines and telling me, "Mr. Moberly, you should just be happy to be alive." While distinctly dissatisfied with the emergency/primary care that led to my initial misdiagnosis, I find no fault with the specialists who eventually managed my care. They tried everything.  Having now studied the subject, I recognize that most organophosphate poisonings are relatively mild/limited and usually accidental in nature. Mine was neither. Those that are not mild or limited in exposure are typically fatal. That said, post-event rehabilitation and care is poorly defined due to the varied nature of the neurological assault.  My experience is severe, yet- by God's grace- I remain alive.

God chose life for me. This I know beyond a shadow of a doubt. But, to speak openly and without reserve, I could not fathom why God brought me back to such a difficult, painful existence. For quite some time, I felt I had little purpose in life; with nothing to give and even less to live for. One thing about God, if you can just hold on to your faith long enough, He will reveal His plan. I clung to my faith, refusing to give up on God. It was confusing and slow and agonizing, but I knew that God had brought me back to life. Keeping me alive more than once- so there had to be a greater purpose. I desperately needed to know what He wanted for me and from me.

Pieces started to falling into place.  As my Dad was dying, God sent my friend and future wife, Toni, back into my life. We had known each other from our childhood, and having shared a brief engagement in high school- we retained a deep bond that often defied understanding.  In the darkest hours before Dad passed, my family called out to her- knowing that if anyone could "reach me" and comfort me, it would be Toni. Despite having seen me only twice in ten years; she came, she helped and, eventually, she stayed. With her experience as a nurse, she became integral to my care, my recovery, and my life.


My strong will and historically impulsive nature, now combined with physical and mental challenges, often concerned my family and friends. Decisions I made worried my brother and family; a memorable one was when I wanted to walk. Not just be upright and walking- they were all for that. I wanted to distance walk for therapy. Toni discussed it thoroughly with me; my conditions, my limitations, the risks of walking miles in Missouri's extreme summer heat. One thing about her- she has always understood me and she never, ever looked at my weakness and debilitation as permanent. Having known me all my life, she always "gets" me, she knows my spirit, and she has always called me "daring" when the rest of the world labels me crazy.  Willing to let me take the risks under structured guidance, she agreed to take up my cause. In essence, she agreed to assume the responsibility if anything went wrong.


My family is not medical, so supported by Toni's friendship and knowledge they deferred my care to her and relaxed a bit for the first time in many months. Toni encouraged me- championed my efforts- and I walked. For hours each day, I walked. Initially weak and still very unstable on my feet, I agreed to stick to a small track at the local Junior High when walking alone. It was open to view from the street, and it was hoped that if I should fall (or worse) I would at least be visible...and maybe there would be help. My brother is a sergaent with the local police department and his wife works at the PD too. So, Kenny, or one of the other officers, would roll by to get a visual on me, as did their kids. Yes, I was that weak. Yes, it was that necessary.


As I have said before, I was alone a lot, just me and my Maker. It was in the last few months of 2010, that God revealed His promise to me. While walking one blindingly hot summer day, God spoke to me. Call it a "still, small voice", call it "epiphany", call it anything you want, but I heard from God. He told me I was going to be "restored to warrior status". It was clear as a bell, and with it was the understanding that I was to be a "warrior for God". Weak, and at times still helpless- I could hardly dream of being a warrior again...but, I held this in my heart, deepening my drive and determination. This promise became a great reassurance and an anchor to my faith.


When my doctors, (primary care, pain specialist and neurologist) released me to return to Montana, I had been in Missouri from mid-May through mid-September 2010. It was the most time I had spent in my home state since joining the Border Patrol in 2002. Toni remained by my side. Much had changed in my life and finally for the better. I was a bit stronger, but still had a long way to go. While I had been released to return to Montana, I was not released from care.
This started a pattern of returning to Missouri at regular three month intervals for further evaluations and procedures.


The New Year had us again returning from Missouri after another round of follow-ups. My doctors recognized that I was improving. SinceToni was with me 24/7 now, my doctors agreed that I could begin incrementally decreasing several of the major meds that I had been prescribed over the years. They encouraged me to file for disability, remaining in utter disbelief that I had never filed for permanent disability, and that OWCP had consistently refused to accept my case, pay my claims or provide for care. While I was better than before- the specialists still rated me 100% fully disabled. It is a odd state of being- greatly improved- yet still completely incapatitated. While I was no longer wheel-chair confined; my leg brace and helmet were gone. Balance and mobility continued to be big issues, so did pain, fatigue and a myriad of neurological signs and symptoms that remained.


Winters in Montana are brutal. While I had been able to keep up my walking through
a part of the Fall, cold weather quickly curtailed that. So upon returning from Missouri, we searched out a treadmill and my walking resumed- just inside for the time being. I probably logged enough miles on that treadmill to have made it to the Missouri state line!


Home had become the refuge it should have always been. It was wonderful to have a home where peace prevailed. The agents at my station noted that I was no longer "crashing" medically within two weeks of returning from Missouri, as had been the case from my injury in 2008 through early 2010. Many things that had previously been patterns and issues were no longer negatively affecting my recovery.


                         denton.moberly@live.com