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Bobby & Yvonne Bunting
Hi! I guess I'm supposed to dive right in to the story, so here goes. On May 4, 1998, my husband Bobby (28 at the time) left for work around 5:30AM. We live in a very small town on Lake Okeechobee in Florida. Many men go out and commercial fish in the lake for the local fish houses. Many of these men do so without the "life preserver" of medical coverage. My husband and his partner were two of these men. Bobby and Roger were putting out lines when Roger's soda can fell over. He bent down to pick it up. When he looked up, they were headed for a "day marker". I don't know exactly what a day marker is, but I do know how one is constructed. It's basically a big steel sign in the middle of the water, attached to a steel pole surrounded by cement and buried in the bottom of the lake. Roger didn't have time to utter a word. Bobby was in the front of the boat facing backwards and never knew what hit him. He flew to the prow and cracked his skull on the light up there. This is also where he broke the little wingy things off of four of his vertebrae (sorry, learned a lot of new words, but the name of those slipped by me). The impact was so hard, that after hitting so hard in the front of the boat, Bobby was thrown in the opposite direction, where he broke five ribs, collapsed a lung and suffered severe liver damage. Well, the boat was damaged and taking on water, so Roger, who did suffer some injuries, but not enough to seek medical attention later, got them as close to shore as he could as soon as he saw that Bobby was bleeding from his nose and ears. Bobby meanwhile was complaining that his stomach hurt. Roger got them a few feet from the shore and not knowing what else to do, decided to bring the truck down and see if Bobby could get in. By the time he got there with the truck, Bobby had crawled out of the boat and on to shore. He couldn't get in the truck, though. They were in the middle of nowhere, so Roger helped him in the truck. Bobby curled up in the floorboard, complaing about his stomach. Roger headed for the nearest hospital, about 30 miles away. In route, he spotted a sheriff's deputy and hailed him. Meanwhile, I had gotten up and gotten myself ready for work, and our beautiful 2 month old son ready for the babysitter. This child means everything to us. We were both 28 when he was born, and had been trying for four years. Sorry, I digress. His name is Frankie. Well, the babysitter isn't home for some reason I have yet to discover a year later, so I haul him to work with me. Luckily he's still sleeping a lot, and it's a slow time for us. I work at the local newspaper which is put out weekly. My boss happens to be my mother in law, so I figured I could get away with it for the day. She was of course delighted to have him there. Well, being a newspaper, we have a police scanner. All of a sudden, I heard Bobby's name on the scanner, only they were estimating his age, and guessing at where he lived. That didn't make sense to me, and they weren't using any codes that we could look up on our list. I called my mom who worked for the sheriff's department at the county jail and told her something was wrong, but I hadn't a clue what. We couldn't even figure out what agency was on the radio. My mom called back a few minutes later and said there had been a boating accident and Bobby was on his way to the local hospital. Brenda (his mom) and I of course rushed right over there. They had no idea what we were talking about! Just as I was looking up the number to call EMS and find out where he was, an EMT walked in and heard us say his name and told us he was on his way to a well known hospital on the coast. I knew then that it was bad. Our local air unit is called TraumaHawk. The helicopter met the ambulance half way. When we got to the hospital, Bobby was in surgery for his liver. When they rolled him past us to the ICU area, I recognized him only by his feet. His mother didn't know it was him. He was covered in blood and swollen up and still on a back board. They had him chemically paralyzed because of the liver damage. He had split his skull in two, who knew when the liver would be healed enough to close him up and they'd be able to let him wake up. Who knew if he'd make it through the night? Who knew what shape his brain was in? The following night, a nuerosurgeon told Brenda and I that Bobby had a hematoma and that his ICP was very high and surgery to remove it might alleviate enough of the pressure. It might not. He might not make it through surgery. Well, they hadn't dealt with my Bobby before. He survived surgery, and it helped some. It was at least a two weeks before they took the shunt out, but it did help. I don't want to drone on about ICP and ventilators and being diapheretic, I'm sure everyone can pretty much tell the same story there. I will say that Bobby eventually was let off the paralyzing drug. He responded at first, but then just stopped. His wounds healed, but we still weren't sure of his mind. He was eventually weaned off the respirator after a tracheotomy. At the same time he was weaned off of all the drugs they had him on. One day, not knowing if he was even hearing or understanding me, I was whispering into his ear. My cheek was against his. With great effort, Bobby turned his head and kissed my cheek. I have said many times since then and will always feel that that was the most spectacular kiss I have ever received. Then I knew everything was going to be okay. He got a little bit better almost every day. They wouldn't remove the tracheotomy tube until he could pass a swallow test, and he failed the first one. This was his pet peeve. He wanted to talk and eat! He'd watch that cart go by and get so mad! His mind seemed fine. His cognitive skills were intact. We learned from a friend that we could briefly,with clean hands, cover the tracheotomy hole and he could speak. Joy! Bobby was in there all right, and he wanted to go home! He went on to physical therapy, but after four weeks, his stubborn streak came out and he was going home no matter what the doctors, his mother or I had to say. They had by now removed the tracheotomy tube. He called me at 4:30 in the morning (I taught him how to use the phone card to call me whenever he needed to), and told me to come get him. I stalled him until daylight, but he was insistent. My brother and I went over there and tried to talk some sense into him, but he was adamant. He was going to leave whether I helped him or not. I couldn't let him do it alone. He was still in a wheelchair. He had been in the hospital for two months. I was there every afternoon but one when the baby and I were sick. He continued with physical therapy for two months on an outpatient basis. Now, a year later, he uses a cane because the part of his brain that he damaged affects his balance. He still suffers from severe headaches, but is undergoing treatment for that. We know that he was extremely fortunate, but it's not always easy. His back is weak, and his headaches take a lot out of him. He can't work. Reading is difficult. The letters seem to swim, and I've taken him to an opthamologist. We've gotten him Medicaid, but he was ineligble for SS because he was one credit short of the requirement. Most of Bobby's jobs in the past have been under the table, cash type jobs, so he earned no SS credits. We're hoping that the treatment fo rthe headaches will work and he can enjoy this second chance a little more. He gets bored and frustrated now, because he can't quite do the things he used to. His recovery has been absolutely amazing, but some days it's hard for him to see that. I feel that good things have come of it, though. We have a stronger bond now. On my part anyway. Before, I couldn't say that I was as committed to this relationship and our life together as I am now. The best thing to come out of it to me is that Bobby is able to keep Frankie during the day while I work. We were blessed with a very well bahaved child, and he really is easy for Bobby to care for. This has given them an opportunity to bond that most fathers and sons don't get. I come home every day for lunch and spell him, and then I take over when I get off work. Seeing the two of them and the relationship they've developed fills my heart. These days, we deal with headaches and occassional depression. The cane has just become part of our lives. My headaches come from dealing with the governement agencies I've had to turn to for assitance. I won't even get started there! Well, I guess I've gone on long enough, I hope not too long. Thank you for letting me share.Bobby and Yvonne
