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April Update

  It's been awhile since I've posted.  Justin's situation is hard to write about, but I know there are people who want to know what's going on with Justin, my son.  In truth, he is getting sicker and weaker.  For awhile,he made great progress, talking, eating, and getting back into his power wheelchair.   Then he started getting weaker.  His left lung became covered with secretions, and he needed surgery to scrape things out. Then a CT scan revealed more new spine fractures (total of 7).  After that, he just hasn't been able to get over the hump.  This week, Justin decided to discontinue the weaning from the ventilator.  He is on full breath support and can no longer use the voice valve to talk without dangerous oxygen drops.  Pain medication has been significantly increased to help him deal with the pain. It's a tough thing for a 23-year-old to confront one's mortality.  We will continue this journey with Justin to the end to the best of our abilities.  We

Babler State Park

During my last night at Caddo Lake State Park, there was a severe thunderstorm.  Not much wind but huge thunder that rattled my rib cage and sent Callie into a panic.  I let her up into my bed for awhile, but she jumped down.  Near as I can tell, she spent the night on top of the dinette table leaning into the window because the table was wet and her back was wet.  My windows don’t leak unless something presses against them during rain, and Callie apparently was leaning hard.

On a short night’s sleep, and continued rain, I decided to drive all day to from Texas across Arkansas and to Cape Girardeau, Missouri.  During the drive, I was listening to tunes via Spotify and feeling good.  Just about that the time that my mood was definitely  taking a turn for the better, a Wal-mart truck kicked up a pebble that deeply divoted my windshield with a horizontal crack from the divot. 


I was ticked, but what can you do?  About five minutes later, I came across a really bad recent two-car wreck on my side of the highway.  Things can always be worse.  Much worse.

In Cape Girardeau, I did my internet research and called around to find a campsite for the weekend.  Apparently, camping in Missouri is very popular in early May; everything was booked up.  There were some possible boondocking spots along the Mississippi River, but they were complicated by flash flooding with more expected rain on Friday night.  Some main roads were closed, and that means more minor roads to boondocking spots were suspect.

On Friday morning, I called a couple of state parks during my drive to see about openings.  Dr. Edmund A. Babler Memorial Park was one of the possibilities.  The woman answering the phone was super nice but they were full for the weekend.  She could try to radio the campground and see if there were any cancellations.  She didn’t call back for a long time, and by then I had crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois.  Then she called with possibly good news.  There was one electric site and one primitive site available, but they were first come, first serve.  She asked if I was feeling lucky.  I thanked her for her efforts, but  I was about an hour away, so I didn’t think I was going to risk it.  Plus, I hated the thought of backtracking.  On the other hand, Babler had great reviews online, and I didn’t have a clue where I was going to stay in my least favorite state–Illinois.

After I hung up, I decided to turn around and run for the Babler.  I turned the hour drive into a 40 minute drive.  As I got off the highway, I called to see if the sites were still available.  She said that as far as she knew, the electric one was, but I should skip the park office and drive directly to the campground and tell the host that I was there for the cancellation site.  When I arrived, the host wasn’t at the campground check-in and didn’t seem to be anywhere near the host trailer.  Breaking with campground etiquette, I knocked hard on the trailer door.  “Is anybody there?”

“No one’s here”, was the answer.  I don’t know if the hosts were saving the spot for friends or what, but they sheepishly emerged and said that the spot was mine since I was the first to arrive and that I could have it for up to four days.  I took three days, set up camp and began some serious relaxation time.


It’s been too wet to hike the trails, but Callie and I have hiked the 3.5 mile semi-paved trail at least a couple of times each day.


The park is named after a surgeon who lived from 1874 to 1930 and reportedly spent much of his time devoted to charity cases and the unfortunate.  He died of pneumonia at 55.

On Saturday morning, the sun broke through.  And the weather looks good for Sunday as well.  Monday morning, I’ll continue north.


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