I am going to try to get back into the swing of things and publish monthly updates like I used to do. Try being the key word. Since Covid hit, it really messed up my normal routine. It’s messed up all of our routines. I’m working from home, James is e-learning, and Stacy isn’t working as much because a) most of her clients are also working from home and b) because she has to help James with school.

 

CDC Considerations for Operating Schools

A few weeks ago, the CDC released an article with their recommendations on how to re-open schools in the safest way. The six page PDF can be found here. I’ll admit that I haven’t read it word-for-word, but merely skimmed it. I did notice one thing to be missing, though. They don’t mention anything about what to do with kids with special needs. What about the kids that get therapies throughout the school day, or need frequent suctioning like James does?

Staying six feet apart is mentioned several times, so are we to assume that James will not be going back to school because his nurse and therapists can’t do their jobs from six feet away? Will James be remote learning for the next year? Two years? The rest of his life? This really kind of sucks. This pandemic is affecting us all, but I think James, and kids like James are getting hurt the most by it. Without his therapies, how far back is he going to fall?

On a happier note, thanks to the generosity of our family, friends, and James’ fans, Stacy was able to put together 40 care pouches for the nurses at our local hospital, as well as some toys and movies for Child Life. Thank you to everyone who donated, and an extra special thank you to all of the nurses to continue to go to work every day and put their own lives on the line.

 

A collection of small items is arranged neatly on a wooden floor. The group includes six individually wrapped Twizzlers sticks, a Jack Link’s Original beef stick, a pack of Kleenex tissues with the phrase “Find Your Fearless,” a tube of Curel Daily Healing lotion, a Chap Ice lip balm, a roll of Life Savers mints, and a Quaker Chewy granola bar. A printed card sits among the items with the message, “THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRONTLINE WARRIOR WE APPRECIATE YOU!! Love The Fulkerson Family.” The scene resembles a thoughtful care package laid out for display.
Care pouch for the nurses at the local hospital

 

A hand holds a colorful zippered pouch decorated with red, white, and blue stripes. Printed on the pouch is a message that says, “THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRONTLINE WARRIOR WE APPRECIATE YOU Love The Fulkerson Family,” along with a small photo of Jeff, Stacy and James near the bottom. The background shows a wooden floor and bright pink footwear, giving the scene a casual, heartfelt feel.
Care pouch for the nurses at the local hospital

 

Two healthcare workers stand together in a medical facility hallway, both wearing scrubs, face masks, and headbands. One has a badge labeled “RN.” They hold a small sign that reads “THANK YOU FRONTLINE WARRIOR WE APPRECIATE YOU,” forming a heart shape with their hands around it. The scene feels supportive and heartfelt, highlighting gratitude within a clinical setting.
Thank you for all that you do

 

Six healthcare workers stand together in a well‑lit medical facility hallway, all wearing scrubs and face masks. Each person holds a small package or container, suggesting shared gifts or supplies. Behind them is a large colorful abstract painting and a window showing a garden scene with flowers and greenery. Wooden flooring and seating along the wall give the space a calm, organized feel. The overall impression is one of teamwork and appreciation within a clinical setting.
Thank you for all that you do

 

Three healthcare workers stand together in a clinical workspace, all wearing scrubs and face masks. Each holds a small package labeled “FRONTLINE WARRIOR,” and one person also holds a card that says “THANK YOU FRONTLINE WARRIOR.” Desks, computers, and medical equipment fill the background, giving the scene an active hospital setting. The overall tone is supportive and appreciative, highlighting recognition for their work.
Thank you for all that you do

 

A person stands in a hallway in front of a door labeled “Child Life,” wearing a face mask and a dark purple jacket. They hold several boxed LEGO sets and toys in their arms. The door behind them is decorated with colorful paper cutouts, including a ladybug, basketball, flower, and heart, with a banner above spelling “CHILD LIFE.” The setting appears bright and welcoming, with the decorations adding a playful, kid‑focused feel.
Toys and movies donated to Child Life at the hospital

 

 

Medical Stuff

Knock on wood James has remained relatively healthy this past month. He has had some respiratory issues, but not nearly as bad as they were. We think getting him in his stander every so often has been helping. Getting him out of the house for some fresh air probably helps, too.

A few weeks ago we got a special delivery…

 

A cardboard shipping box with a large label attached. The label features alternating red and yellow chevron stripes pointing to the right. A white section in the center shows black text and the UPS shield logo, reading “P UPS Critical.” Beneath it is a smaller printed code. Part of the box underneath the label shows red text beginning with “REFRI,” suggesting handling instructions. The overall look is industrial and utilitarian, with the bold chevrons drawing attention to the label.
A critical UPS delivery…

 

A brown cardboard box displays a blue UPS label indicating dry‑ice contents. The label includes bold text reading “Dry Ice” followed by smaller printed lines stating it is for diagnostic or medical purposes, that no shipping papers are required, and that the box contains 8 kg of dry ice. Additional small codes appear at the bottom of the label. The box surface around the label is plain and industrial, giving the image a straightforward, utilitarian look.
…with dry ice for diagnostic or medical purposes only…

 

Jeff wearing thick protective gloves holds a handful of small white dry‑ice pellets. He is kneeling on a wooden floor beside two open cardboard boxes lined with white insulating foam, each filled with more pellets. The gloves appear bulky and insulated, and the boxes sit close together, creating a tidy, practical setup for handling the frozen material.
…what could this possibly be?

 

So what did we get that was so critical? Eye drops. Not kidding. Because James rarely closes his eyes and doesn’t know how to blink, his eyes get really dry. It’s gotten to the point where he is developing a film on them. We’ve been using eye drops (both over the counter and prescription) and while they have helped somewhat, the opthamologist recommended we try something a bit stronger. These eye drops are uber expensive so it took a bit to get insurance to aprove them. One drop in each eye every two hours, six times a day, for eight weeks. James had a 14-day follow-up with the eye doctor this past Monday and she said his eyes are already looking better. Stay the course and see her again in another two weeks.

James was supposed to have an AFO / wrist guard appointment on Thursday, but we had to cancel because the van wouldn’t start. Dead battery. Fortunately, I was able to jump start it so she could drive it to Pep Boys for a new battery.

On May 23rd James celebrated his one year ‘spinalversary’. Hard to believe it has been a year since he had his full spinal fusion. He rocked that surgery, but his digestive system almost completely shut down so he spent an entire month in the hospital before he was able to come home. We really appreciate everyone who helped us through that long month. The incision has healed nicely. They say that chicks dig scars. It’s just too bad it’s on his back where not many people will see it.

 

May 25th, 2019: two days after spinal fusion surgery

 

Stacy lifts James' shirt to reveal a long, healed surgical scar running vertically down the center of his back. The skin around the scar appears smooth and fully closed. At the top of the image, bold text reads “ONE YEAR LATER!” emphasizing the passage of time and the healing progress.
May 23rd, 2020: one year after surgery

 

 

School

A colorful collage features a background of bright paper‑doll outlines and large black text reading “FIRST DAY OF 5TH.” Two photos of James in a wheelchair are placed side by side. In both, he wears an orange shirt and a supportive neck pillow while holding a small whiteboard sign that says “FIRST DAY OF 5th Grade.” One photo is taken indoors; the other is outdoors with his nurse beside him, smiling and holding his hand. The collage highlights a cheerful milestone moment.

 

A bright collage features a background of colorful paper‑cutout figures in red, yellow, blue, pink, and green. Large black text at the top reads “LAST DAY,” with “OF 5TH” at the bottom. Two photos of James sitting in a red and black stroller are placed in the center. He wears sunglasses, an orange shirt, and a sign that says “LAST DAY OF 5th Grade.” In one photo, James is outside near a building entrance; in the other, he is on a driveway with his nurse standing behind the stroller, wearing a mask, an orange sleeveless top, and denim shorts. The collage highlights a cheerful end‑of‑year milestone.

 

We ended the school year with lots of mixed emotions. Firstly, because of the coronavirus pandemic and abrubt shift to remote learning, James hasn’t seen his teacher, nurse, classmates or therapists in two months. We’re still unsure of how things will play out in the fall. Will they be back in the classroom? Still doing fully remote classes? Or will they go with a hybrid aproach and combine both in school and remote. I’m continually watching the covid numbers and unless things improve dramatically, I don’t think they will be fully opening schools in the fall, if they open them at all. I wish James could get back to school to at least get his therapies, but I doubt that is going to be an option because of the close contact needed to perform the therapies.

The second thing that is leaving us with mixed emotions is that his nurse won’t be with him in the fall if they do go back to school. She recently became pregnant and would only be able to be with James for the beginning of the school year. Additionally, she doesn’t want to put herself at increased risk of contracting coronavirus while pregnant. She lives close by so I am sure we’ll still see her. We wish her the best and look forward to meeting her little one.

 

 

Memorial Day

James lies on a light‑colored surface with a pillow under his head, wearing a blue shirt featuring the Captain America shield emblem in red, white, and blue with a white star at the center. A small plush dog rests on his shoulder. A red speech‑bubble graphic with a white heart appears near the upper left of the image. The background includes a carpeted floor and part of a couch with a red blanket, giving the scene a cozy, relaxed feel.

 

Thank you to all of the soldiers of our armed forces that gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect our way of life.