Chip's Progress December 2007

Belle's Christmas card debut

BELLE

So, we've always wanted a buddy for Hank our pup. We always said if we got a girl dog we'd like to call her Belle. Well it turns out our Belle may be the 90 pund American Bulldog I brought home from Pest Smart yesterday (Anne Belle).

So, for the past 3 days I have been going back and forth. Should I keep the dog, she's really sweet, really calm and really really cute and she is the biggest snuggler. The problems are she's 90 pounds, she farts (audible at times), burps plus she was abandoned so she has issues we haven't encountered yet and she has a history of getting mad at other alpha girl dogs and lawnmowers. The unknown is scary with her. Hank is acting like the big brother who has a new sibling he doesn't want in the house. He's very jealous but, wants nothing to do with us.

For now we are Belle's foster parents.

Website for Chip's updates

We have set up a page for friends and family to view updates on Chip. http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/chipjohnson

More Chip News

Chip was fighting to wake up and opening his eyes slightly even under heavy sedation. He is fighting right now because of withdrawal from heroin. Pray against the evil effects of this. I needed a good afternoon after no or little information from the neurologist about Chip's brain (They did an EEG- brain wave scan and he didn't even read it). My mom has been saying all week it's not what you see in the physical but, what you know in the spiritual. God is working to heal Chip spritually and physically. They have sedated him to where he is not trying to wake up and cough and spit out his breathing tube. I am so thankful for God giving us hope everyday and am thankful for my family and my friends that pray for my brother. Pray for his surgery tom. (Thurs.) at 5pm Central to insert his trach and feeding tube. Thank you for praying for Chip.

Chip

Sat. a.m. Chip, my younger brother, nearly died. He had overdosed on heroin, was not breathing, did not have a pulse and his heart stopped. Thankfully, the doctors brought him back (God kept him alive). Ryan and I were outside San Francisco at the end of our vacation when we got the call from my mom. We rushed to the airport and flew on a red eye back to Memphis. Ryan got off the plane in Atlanta and drove the car up that night.
I was holding in the tears and praying all the way to Memphis. My cousins met me at the airport and I just let out all the tears and fears I had been holding onto. My family and family friends greeted me at the hospital and my older brother tearfully guided me to my brother's room. It was hard to see Chip in a coma but, my mom, dad and family who had been bathing Chip in prayer and were confident God was healing Chip and keeping him alive.
Sat. night his breaths were shallow and his eyes for fixed and dialated. God had different plans than death for Chip. Out of the darkness and death He he has brought Chip into life and His light. Our miracle on Sunday was him squeezing our hand, moving his feet, reacting to pain, and his eyes reacting to light.
My parents have been so strong, held up by God's power and his promises. The doctors have been not overly optimistic (actually some of them are discouraging) but, we'd hear what they said and immediatly start praying for God to work on it. They said because of lack of oxygen his kidneys and liver are probably damaged and today (Tues.) they said is kidneys are ok and his liver enzyms are improved.
The sour puss nurologist didn't give us much information today and said his brain was without oxygen for some time (impleying damage) but, from the first day of inactivity to Sun. of activity and report of nothing dead we are prayerful that he will restore his brain.
Pray right now for his brain. They are running tests as we speak. Tomorrow Chip will get his breathing tubes and feeding tubes in his mouth that have been making him choke when they take him off sedation and try to wake him will be replaced with a trach and a stomach feeding tube. Pray he will wake tomorrow(Wed.)

Over Yonder

We spent the weekend at Ryan's family's 120 acre farm in East Tennessee in the foothills of the Smoky's. We picked wild blackberries, rode the new 4 wheeler and towed Paps old truck out of the hay barn he built that is about to collapse.

Ryan's Poem "The Farmer" 1987:

"Once their lived a farmer who lived in Tennesee. He had a very big farm. The Farmer's name was Robert Johnson. He had 42 cows and one horse which was his granson's. His grandson's names were Bob and Ryan. Ryan liked to drive the tractor. Bob just liked to ride Ryan's motercicle. When it was time to go home Ryan hides."

Bertha (Sadly, I think this is her nickname), a local folk artist in Rutledge. The center painting is her in Italy under an olive tree and on the right cavemen in the woods (what in world?) worshiping trees, maybe?

Aunt Georgie (Georgia) on the left, Granny on the right, and little Therman(2 yrs old) in the center. Oh yeah, he's dead in this photo. They didn't have anyones of him alive. So apparently it was common to take a photo like this. His eyes are draw in. I cover little Therman up with a hand towel when I visit the farm.

Ryan's Granny and Pap (who've since passed away) lived and worked on the farm and Granny's parents and grandparents before them. Ryan's mom was born in a little white house now next to the brick ranch were we stay when we visit. Both houses and both barns were built by Granny's family and/or Pap. The little white house built in the 1900s is rented out and still has his original hardwood floors and fireplace. The farm land was once filled with tobacco (or baccer as the locals call it) and cattle. Ryan spent the summers riding on the tractor with his Pap, helping on the farm and eating his Granny and Aunt Georgie's fried chicken, green beans and the still the best Grainger County tomatoes (mators) in the south.

Ryan's dad has just about every car they have owned somewhere on the property. The only car I couldn't document was the family station wagon. Ryan's older brother, Bob, once drove the station wagon with a group of buddies and a keg to the families farm in south Georgia to the shabin. The Shabin is the shack cabin on the farm mostly used for a hunting lodge. Bob and his friends thought it would be fun to take turns riding down the gravel road on the farm on top of the luggage rack. They bottomed out the wagon onto a large rock and gouged a whole in the gas tank. Once they found the keys they lost in the woods the next morning, they headed home leaking fuel and spending hundreds of dollars to keep gas in it. Unfortunantly, the family truckster was too far back in the Tennessee woods for it make blog appearance.

Hank had the most fun chasing us the whole weekend up and down the hills and even into the blackberry briars.

He was feeling that later in the evening when his face swelled up. I accidently led Hank into an area where he got painful tangled in loose barbed wire looking for the wagon. He has some scars on his belly and an high pitched squeel my ears will never forget. Poor guy.

Saturday we went up to a friends wedding (whom I traveled in Italy with during my study abroad) in a beautiful vineyard in the rolling horse farms of Lexington, Kentucky. I couldn't help saying "Wow, they have nice grass."

Let me out of here

Hank stands on the deck, looking out into the yard, planning his escape route. We just have the gate to finish. Until then, we have a large board covering the opening. On our carport, we have a large trailer holding all the wood. When I let Hank out all I have to do is block the path on the carport the trailer doesn't block. Well, Hank decided he would rather crawl under the entire trailer than be in his backyard prison. This was 8am that he discovered his escape route. I am standing in a neighbors yard that hates dogs (and has called animal services on another neighbor before), in what clothes you'd throw in when your dog escapes at 8am (bra excluded), with wild woman hair and a bag full of doggie treat bribery. Hank is very smart, he knows if he gets the treat it may mean his plan is foiled and he will be caught. He cautiously approaches, grabs the treat, and darts away. Sometimes he mocks me by running laps around me. Finally, he does something stupid... he obeys my request for tricks. Hank sit, Hank beg, Hank lay down. Got em', Damn dog.