As Day Forty ends, Jenny’s vitals remained normal and she thankfully appears to be in a much better condition than yesterday. As the evening went on she was speaking a bit more than usual and I could see hints of Jenny’s personality pop up as I talked to her throughout the evening from her facial expressions and subtle nuances. A few phrases she repeated today were

“I want to watch a movie.”

which prompted an attempted conversation about what was the last movie we watched together (Barbie) and what movie theater was her favorite (Grant Park). She could not remember either but she kept saying she insisting on wanting to watch a movie. Another phrase she kept saying was

“You don’t want to help me.”

but she said this with a bit of a smile so all I could do was laugh. I know when she asks me to do something for her there are times I cannot because I do not have approval from the staff. She then started talking about a subject that I try to avoid since it involves the accident. She asked

“Why am I here? and I responded

“You were in a very bad accident.” and I remember her raising her eyebrows and her face becoming one of disbelief as she said

“Oh my goodness I was in an accident?”

I then asked her if she knew what date it was and she said she had no idea.

Throughout the evening I was happy to notice she has begun doing the hand exercises the O.T. (Occupational Therapy) team taught her. Her right arm is still in very bad condition and doesn’t move but I have seen her continue to try and stretch those fingers and move the arm with her other working arm. Her right eye still remains completely unresponsive and the ophthalmologist team have no scheduled date to see her next but I have put in a formal request for a follow up on it’s condition.

Lastly, yesterdays update Day Thirty-Nine was a severely difficult day for me and I wanted to leave this note of acknowledgement to those who commented or wrote a message to me. I read them all. Thank you.

As Day Thirty-Nine ends, Doctor [Redacted upon request] came early in the morning and assessed Jenny for the stomach peg insertion. After review, it was determined that Jenny is not able to consume enough calories orally so they are moving forward with the stomach peg operation. By the time I came in today the operation was already finished and Jenny was resting but when she woke up she said she was in a lot of pain. I asked her if she wanted painkiller medicine right away and she said yes so I hit the call button to alert her assigned nurse. Sadly, the nurse did not come for approximately 20 minutes and those 20 minutes were the most dreadful in recent memory because shortly after I hit the call button Jenny would start audibly crying out in pain. Jenny and I go to the same Registered Massage Therapist and I was told Jenny is able to handle at least two and a half times more tension than I can so I know the pain Jenny was feeling would be incomprehensible to me and I could do nothing but witness her cry while waiting for the nurse to arrive. As I patiently waited I kept reminding myself that Jenny is just one of many thousands of patients in the hospital and I tried my best to keep that in mind but after just 5 minutes I was becoming extremely stressed out as to why no one was showing up. Jenny would keep pulling me close, look at me with tears in her eyes and say

“Please.”

And there was nothing I could do but say

“The nurse is coming soon, just wait a little longer.”

And she would lean back while looking so sad and defeated while immensely suffering.

After 10 minutes I went into the hallway and quickly walked room to room looking for her assigned nurse. Once I found them, they were with another patient and I asked if they could come to Jenny’s room as soon as possible and they responded “Ok I’m going there next just wait” with a hint of annoyance and so all I could do then was go back to the Jenny’s room and continue to wait.

What nearly pushed me over the edge of my wits was when the nurse finally arrived they actually went to the other patient in the room first. This patient was having no issues and while the nurse was doing the other patients routine checks Jenny was less than 2 meters away still audibly crying out in pain. I have no idea why the nurse went to the other patient in the room first but I could do nothing but sit there in growing frustration, anger and disbelief. I had to clench my jaws tight while trying to keep my blood pressure from spiking further and kept telling myself to be as calm as possible to stop myself from saying certain phrases that would get me in trouble. All I could do was hold onto Jenny and keep telling her the nurse is coming soon. I also had to keep reminding myself that I should consider myself lucky enough that Jenny is able to be in this hospital, in Canada, with our healthcare system in place but I really have no idea why the nurse went to the other patient first when Jenny was so visibly, audibly and noticeably in extreme pain.

Eventually, when the nurse came, they actually asked Jenny “Are you in pain?” and that was the single highest point where I felt the most hostility because for about five minutes this nurse could audibly hear Jenny crying out in pain literally less than 2 meters away. Then the nurse left the room one more time to get her pain medication. This took another three minutes. Finally they came back and gave Jenny the pain medication and eventually, Jenny fell asleep for the rest of the night. I had to thank this specific nurse for their help through clenched teeth.

This was the very first time I felt any ounce of anger, resentment or hostility towards someone on the hospital floor. I know I must always be thankful for what Jenny has access to in this hospital and the help she is able to receive. I need to be grateful for the healthcare system in place but because of what I witnessed today there is so much turmoil within myself. I am extremely upset because I know logically I need to be thankful for what Jenny has access to but my irrational, emotional side is overwhelmingly outraged because of how Jenny was treated today. Furthermore, because I acknowledge both sides of this logic and emotion I am able to see that I am 100% wrong to feel this animosity as in the end Jenny is still being helped but it just causes further frustration that I still feel this animosity in the first place then there is even more compounded frustration because I know my reaction is incorrect.

As Day Thirty-Eight ends, Jenny’s vitals continue to be stable. The floor was understaffed today due to multiple sick calls so instead of the normal staff the C.R.N. Charge Nurse (the boss) was assigned to Jenny today. His name was [Redacted upon request] and it was my first time meeting one of the executive Nurses. I was quite intimidated at first since this is the authority figure that makes the decision whether or not to kick me out every night after official visiting hours are over. I always try to stay beside Jenny until after she sleeps so I am the last thing she sees every night, but I have been asked to leave before. With great relief, after I talked to [Redacted upon request] for the first time he said he has already seen me on the floor many times and that I am welcome to stay past visiting hours whenever he’s working as I have shown I am not someone who will cause trouble. I am so thankful to hear this from at least one of the executive Nurses.

Today was another monumental milestone as today was the very first time Jenny ate food. It was only Jell-O but it was still food she ingested orally. In the same excitement to seeing that Certificate of Achievement award on her door yesterday, I was ecstatic to hear Jenny being able to eat food. Unfortunately, by the time I got there she had already ate so I will have to until wait tomorrow for my chance to feed her on my own. Lastly, Doctor [Redacted upon request] did not show up today for the decision about the stomach peg insertion but will be visiting tomorrow.

As Day Thirty-Seven ends, Jenny’s vitals have stayed normal across the board. The S.L.P. (Speech & Language Pathologists) team came in and administered their test one more time. Jenny barely but successfully passed the first level of their test and is now allowed to drink clear fluids such as water or juice with assistance. I am very happy to see she cleared the first step but due to how long it took for her to reach this stage it did not cancel the potential stomach peg operation as clear fluids alone is not enough calorie intake. The decision whether or not she needs the stomach peg will be made tomorrow by Doctor[Redacted upon request]. Jenny did not talk much this evening as she was quite tired but this allowed me to do many massages and exercises to help stretch and loosen her muscles. Lastly, when I first saw this ordinary paper attached to the hospital room door I felt the same overwhelming excitement as if it were a dazzling Certificate of Achievement award. This simple paper recognized and symbolized Jenny taking the very first step of her journey to eating normally again.

As Day Thirty-Six ends, Jenny had her I.V. removed today so she’s only on her N.G. feeding tube now. She had her catheter removed and I know she’s very happy about this since the catheter caused a lot of itchiness and was the reason for a lot of issues the past few weeks. Instead of the catheter she is using something called a bedpan – it’s essentially it’s a toilet seat they slide under you when you feel the urge to go. The S.L.P. (Speech & Language Pathologists) team is scheduled to come in tomorrow, meaning Jenny will get one more chance to pass their test before she’s sent down to get a stomach peg inserted into her abdomen. I told her how important this test was to avoid the stomach peg and to do her best. Throughout the rest of evening Jenny was punching her left leg constantly over brief periods. I asked if she was doing this on her own but she said it’s automatic. Lastly, [Redacted upon request] from O.T. (Occupational Therapy) came in today again and showed me more techniques to help unlock Jenny’s muscles in her damaged arm. He is now leaning towards neurological damage as opposed to muscle damage for the issue. I asked if it meant there’s a chance of full recovery and he said he cannot determine that right now.

As Day Thirty-Five ends, one of Jenny’s closest friends who was in British Colombia came back to Winnipeg today. They are the group of 6 friends who always gather when they all happen to be in Winnipeg at the same time and today was one of those rare days except this time the meeting place was Jenny’s hospital room. This group of 6 are the same people mentioned in the About Us page. They all came in the morning and asked me if they had permission to cut her hair (which of course they do) since her hair has gotten quite long and gets tangled easily with knots. It was a great idea and will definitely help her be more comfortable so today Jenny got a haircut from all her friends.

Once the evening arrived she was much more restless than usual and was constantly trying to get out of bed. She does not have clearance to get out of bed yet so sadly I had to fight against her efforts. She would look at me desperately during her attempts and say

“I want to go home.” and

“Please let me go home.”

The only response I could think of was that it’s not time yet and she still needs to get a little bit better. This is the first time she referenced “home” so I at least know she has a memory of what home is but I’ll never forget the look on her face when she said this as it was a face I had never seen her make before. It was a mix of desperation, longing and sadness. Of course I want her to come home but she is not even close to making it yet. There are still so many trials and tests ahead. I know she will be strong enough to complete them when she gets the opportunity but it doesn’t make the ordeal any easier. Sadly, her right eye and arm are still in very bad condition after all this time with her right eye completely unresponsive and her right arm still tightly locked in which continuously causes her pain.

As Day Thirty-Four ends, Jenny’s vitals are finally back to normal across the board including her blood pressure. I was called early in the morning by Gloria, one the nurses regularly assigned to Jenny and she told me Jenny was about to be put in a wheelchair to get her out of bed for awhile. This would be the first time Jenny would be in a wheelchair and be able to move around. I immediately dropped everything and headed towards the hospital but when I got to the parkade it was so packed that it took me longer to find a parking spot than it took to actually drive there. After I found a spot I ran to the hospital and as I entered her wing I was hoping to see her being wheeled around down the halls but I did not see her. As I approached her room, I heard someone talking. I was so excited to see her in a wheelchair but when I did finally see her, she was sleeping in bed. I was told after a few minutes in the wheelchair she said she felt tired and wanted to lie down. I was a bit disappointed I didn’t get to see her and have a chance to push her around but I know it’ll happen again one day. I didn’t want to wake her up so I waited to see if she woke up naturally but she did not so I left and came back again in the evening. When I saw her again she was awake so I excitedly asked

“Do you remember me?” but to my surprise she responded

“No.”

so I asked again to confirm

“Do you remember me?”

“No.”

I then took out some photos of us together and showed them to her hoping for a positive response,

“Do you remember who this is?”

“No.”

This was a shock since she remembered my name for the first time only yesterday but today she did not even recognize me at all. I then remembered being told that with T.B.I. (Traumatic Brain Injury) her memory will go in and out but I didn’t expect it like this.

As Day Thirty-Three ends, Jenny’s vitals are normal except her blood pressure is still a bit low. The S.L.P. (Speech and Language Pathologists) came today to administer their second test to see if Jenny is able to eat and drink normally which would finally free her of the invasive N.G. feeding tube and the restrictive “cozy” mitt. Unfortunately, Jenny failed the test again but it was because she couldn’t stay awake during the test to complete it. However, she still did fail and due to that they are moving forward with the insertion of a peg directly into her stomach from the abdomen to get nutrition because one month of the invasive N.G. tube is very uncomfortable. The tube goes directly into her nose, down her throat, down the entire length of her esophagus and then directly into her stomach and whenever she pulls on it they have to reinsert it all over again. However, the schedule for the stomach peg is not happening today because Jenny is still on blood thinners and it won’t happen tomorrow either which means there is a small chance a third S.L.P. test could happen before she has to get her stomach cut open for the peg insert. I keep telling Jenny she has to be awake and pass the test when it happens and she nods and I hope she does truly remember this time. Lastly, everyday I visit Jenny I always ask the same question – “Do you remember me?” which she usually nods or says “Yes.” and then I follow up with “Do you remember my name?” which she always responds no.

Today, after asking

“Do you remember me?” she nodded as usual. I then asked

“Do you remember my name?” and as I was ready to hear the usual “No.” I was about to sit down in hospital chair but to my surprise Jenny said

“Yes.” and I was completely frozen midair as if I was squatting over a toilet. After a brief moment I squinted while angling my head and asked

“What is my name?”. Jenny took a few seconds but then confidently said

“Your name is Steven.”

After asking Jenny every single day without an answer and not even knowing if I would ever get an answer, for the very first time, Jenny remembered my name. Tears quickly filled my eyes and fell uncontrollably down my face. I hugged her and kissed her and thanked her over and over and over again. I have proof that key pieces of her memory are slowly but surely coming back and she has not given up. She is still trying to reconnect her mind every single day.

As Day Thirty-Two ends, Jenny’s vitals today were all normal except slightly low blood pressure. Her antibiotic doses are complete and the infection from a few days ago is now gone. O.T. (Occupational Therapy) came by and put a splint on Jenny’s right arm for a few hours, then removed it a few hours later. They are still deciding if the splint is the right decision for Jenny’s condition, but for now a few hours on and off is their compromise. Amazingly, Jenny was the most talkative she has ever been. She is constantly counting. At first she was counting from 1-20, then kept pushing up. Her record was going from 1-89, but instead of 90 she said 20 then 21 and so forth. Today was also the first time I saw Jenny bite her cozy mitt and try to pull it off with her mouth. This was a very sad sight but the mitt needs to stay on due to her history of pulling her N.G. feeding tube. Lastly, she remembered the phrase “Bye bye.” and said that to me very frequently throughout the evening. Everytime she says that I ask if it means she wants me to leave and she nods her head. I then respond “Okay.” and continue to stay beside her for the rest of the evening anyway.

As Day Thirty-One ends, we bid farewell to October and enter November. Today marks the milestone of exactly one calendar month from the very moment Jenny’s life was forever changed. Just one month ago, Jenny was on the way to her regular overnight shift at Arborg Personal Care Home located over an hour north of Winnipeg. That night seemed like any other October night and as time went on, no one could possibly see the future that was lurking in the horizon. Unbeknownst to everyone, Jenny’s future was inconspicuously intertwined with someone else’s – someone she never knew and someone she’ll never be able to meet again. As this string of fate was pulled apart, both their futures horribly collided. Because of this encounter, Jenny did not make it to Arborg that night. Instead, Jenny was found tossed into the prairie fields with her destroyed vehicle laying on it’s side filled with shattered glass and wrecked machinery. Jenny hung there, sideways, suspended by her seatbelt. While her severely injured body barely held onto life, Jenny’s dreams of her future evaporated into the stars. She was then forced to agonizingly fight against death itself all alone in the darkness of night. She would eventually lose and succumb to her wounds, but she kept fighting for as long as she could and before she lost her battle, the stars received her call and they answered. From the sky itself, STARS Air Ambulance arrived. Jenny’s life would not end today.

And it has been one month since that day. The incredible number of things that have happened over this past month were completely overwhelming and I admit I nearly crumbled apart during extremely tough moments. However, being beside Jenny everyday and writing daily updates for her website & GoFundMe, I was able to keep track and see so many different parts of society working in tandem that I would never see otherwise. I have come to truly appreciate what things we have in this part of the world. I got to witness first hand the amount of people, businesses and organizations that have extended their hand to help Jenny with her recovery. Instead of an update, I will take this opportunity to recognize more people and organizations that have supported Jenny on her journey to recovery.

Joseph from Dancel Law Office, Maria (Khristine) from Royal Bank of Canada, Jeevs from Service Canada, [Redacted upon request] from Health Sciences Center Social Work, Kristin from JEM Insurance, Karen and Dawn from the Manitoba Brain Injury Association, Oliver from Oliver Professional Dog and Cat Grooming Spa, Fred from Fleet Autobody and the anonymous manager at Apple Polo Park. These individuals all work for businesses and organizations but still went out of their way to support Jenny on their own accord. My heartfelt thank you to each of you.

Vince & Annick from The Forks and Stanley from Brandon, your warmth and support helped me greatly.

To all my family members here in Winnipeg, you all know more than anyone I always kept my life as private as possible but here we are. I have seen all your names on the donors list. Thank you and I will hopefully see you all at our Christmas gathering this year.

Lastly and most importantly, my personal message to all donors and groups that I may never have a chance to meet. I want you to know that one day, when life allows and Jenny is able to understand, I will tell her how each and every one of you supported her during this fragile stage of her life. All your names are known to me – even those who chose to be anonymous to the public – and I promise that Jenny will one day know each of your names too. To all followers whose names I will never get a chance to know, I thank you for continuing to read Jenny’s story and circulate it. You are a vital part of Jenny’s recovery and even though I am sad I’ll never be able to know your names, I thank you all for allowing Jenny into your lives. I thank you for allowing me into your lives. Snow has begun to fall here in Winnipeg so I send my warmest wishes wherever you are and hope for your safety wherever you go. Until then,