My life changed in an instant in 2009 when my husband, Seth, was in an automobile accident, which left him incapacitated with a traumatic brain injury. This-life altering experience led me to start the 820 Foundation as a way to educate, inspire, and empower individuals to see end-of-life planning as a part of life. My hope is to use this tragedy to help others avoid the pitfalls of putting emergency planning on the back burner.
On October 19, 2007, seventeen-year-old Morgan Rechtien, a player on the Rolla High School Bulldogs football team in our hometown of Rolla, Missouri, was badly injured on the field.
Morgan was hit more than once and sustained an injury that left him paralyzed. My husband, Seth, was a friend of the Rechtien family, and once he learned about the incident he immediately went to Morgan’s bedside at the Spinal Rehabilitation Institute of St. Louis.
Seth stayed on the journey with Morgan’s family, doing whatever he could to help with fundraisers or anything else they needed.
There is one photo that Seth took at the spinal rehab center that gives me goosebumps to this day. He had gone to visit Morgan on a day when he was using a machine called an auto-ambulator, which supports the body so the patient can practice walking on a treadmill.
Working hard, Morgan beams at the camera, proud of his accomplishments. I can imagine Seth behind the camera flashing Morgan a huge smile and giving him a thumbs up. All the while, Seth had no way of knowing that in a few years’ time, he’d be in the same machine, learning to walk again.
Seth’s care for Morgan exemplified the way he cared for everyone in his orbit. That care was never tinged with judgment and never came with strings attached. What people at the gym loved most about Seth was that his care and concern went well beyond the walls of the gym.
His goal was to help kids, whether that meant helping them master forward rolls, tutoring them in math, or covering their accomplishments in the paper. He had a way of encouraging kids to be the best version of themselves. He was patient with the kids who were struggling, never writing a kid off if they couldn’t complete a task or if they had special needs.
He was always calm and encouraging when he helped them. They responded to that by relaxing around him and talking to him about just about everything. Still quiet around most adults, Seth talked confidently to those kids like they were his equals.
During this time, Seth and I had a brief conversation about end-of-life planning, and what we would do should tragedy strike.
As most conversations go when you’re talking about theoretical things that could, maybe, someday happen, it didn’t go far—certainly not to the point where either of us took any action as a result.
Instead, it was a chance for us to get to know one another better in a vulnerable space, exploring the notion of tragedy that we felt would never strike.
HOW TO GET THE CONVERSATION STARTED
Sometimes to get the conversation started, all you need to get over that hurdle is a little guidance on things to say to get the dialogue going.
Although you still need to make sure you have the proper documents signed to ensure your wishes are carried out, here are some questions you might use to get the conversation started:
- I’m thinking about the future. Will you help me plan for ________?
- I need your help with something. I was thinking about _______, can you help me think that through?
- I was thinking about what happened to ______, it made me realize we don’t have any plans in place for that.
- I was looking over our health care plans for next year. Could we go over some of the coverage options and explore what options we do have for anything that’s not covered?
For a more detailed outline of questions and ways to get the conversation started, here is an article by Erin Hickey, a palliative care physician at St. Louis Children’s Hospital to help you get started.
We are not providing legal advice. All estate planning varies state by state. Please seek an attorney in your state for specific information and details.