Katie and Me: Triumph over Tragedy

By Taji Warren Hillson

p>While many people around the world watched the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy, twelve-year-old Katie Hillson harbored Olympic dreams, dreams that had been growing since she was a young girl. But Katies aspirations were shattered when she suffered a sudden, life-changing skiing injury the same day she qualified for the Junior Olympic Festival.

In Katie and Me, Taji Warren Hillson tells the familys story as Katie is challenged to go through the same mourning process as death, as well as learning to live with and accommodate a disability. Taji narrates how mother and daughter confronted the psychological and emotional struggles in the aftermath of the crash and subsequent surgeries. Intertwined is a secondary tale of friendship, bonding, and abandonment that contains the healing aspects of forgiveness and transformational power of unconditional love.

With excerpts and artwork by Katie and testimonials from those who knew her, Katie and Me addresses topics that pushed the pair into the unsaid and unknown parts of themselves to educate and inspire others facing adversity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Aug 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504331913

Taji Warren Hillson

Taji Warren Hillson is the mother of student-athlete Katie Hillson. She earned a bachelor’s degree in education from Western Carolina University and lives with her husband and two children in Reno, Nevada. Katie Hillson studied psychology at the University of Virginia and won a national rowing championship in 2012. She is currently on medical leave and designed the book cover.

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Copyright © 2015 Taji Warren Hillson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-3190-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-3192-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-3191-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015906399

Balboa Press rev. date: 9/3/2015

CONTENTS

PART 1

TRAUMA

Chapter 1: The Accident

Chapter 2: Bad to Worse

Chapter 3: Surgeries to Save Leg

Chapter 4: Faith, Family, and Friends

PART 2

COPING WITH THE AFTERMATH

Chapter 5: Upside Down

Chapter 6: Hope

Chapter 7: Back on Skis

Chapter 8: Abandonment

Chapter 9: Letting Go

Chapter 10: A Turning Point

PART 3

TRANSFORMATIONS

Chapter 11: The Road Less Traveled

Chapter 12: Awakening

Chapter 13: Choices

Chapter 14: Shifting Dreams

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To Katie, who showed me the courage and spirit of a true champion

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If you bring forth that which is within you,

Then that which is within you

Will be your salvation.

If you do not bring forth that which is within you,

Then that which is within you

Will destroy you.

—Gnostic Gospels

PART 1

TRAUMA

CHAPTER 1

THE ACCIDENT

While many people around the world watched the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy, my twelve-year-old daughter Katie Hillson—with Olympic dreams of her own—suddenly found herself in the emergency room with a life-changing injury. Katie had just been selected to race in the Junior Olympic J4 Festival, a qualifier to race in the Western Region Junior Olympics.

On Friday, February 10, I picked Katie up before noon from Swope Middle School in Reno, Nevada, and we headed to one of the premier Lake Tahoe ski resorts to train. The weather was beautiful, sunny and warm for that time of year.

Our conversation on the drive over the mountain was about skiing and our budding friendship with Joanne Labelle, former World Cup and Olympic skier. Joanne had long, dark, wavy hair that she liked to wear in a ponytail and green eyes that often sparkled with cheer. We liked her ever since we first met at her housewarming celebration.

For two months during ski season, Joanne and I called each other regularly and often swapped kids. Katie shared with me all that Joanne taught her skiing and made remarkable progress under her coaching and leadership.

School was a top priority, but Katie was thrilled to leave early. Now that she skied for Joanne, she couldn’t get enough time on the snow.

That morning, I made Joanne a healthy lunch, planning to surprise her, but never got to do that.

Katie trained on snowblades for the first time, while I sat on the deck outside the resort’s lodge, eating my lunch, reading the book Odd Girl Out, and soaking up the warm sun.

I enjoyed reading for knowledge. Learning about girls’ development had become an interest as Katie grew and developed into an extraordinary child, as teachers described her.

She was multitalented: a gifted athlete; bright and dedicated student; creative and talented artist and musician; and a kind, caring, and loving girl. She seemed to have everything and strived to excel in all areas. Life was good.

I glanced up occasionally and watched Katie ski by seven times. Each run, she looked more comfortable on the blades and skied faster.

Twenty minutes passed, and I hadn’t seen Katie.

Katie’s Excerpt

I trained on snowblades for the first time. Balancing on blades was difficult because they are only three feet long. At first I felt a little apprehensive, but each run I gained confidence, believing I had quickly mastered the ability to ski on blades.

Hi, Katie. How are the snowblades? Joanne asked.

I think I’ve got the hang of them.

Okay, then go get your skis.

I sped down an icy, advanced run called the Flume and felt like I was on top of the world. Boy, did that feeling end fast!

As I reached the terrain park, I skied and jumped along its edges until my blades got caught in soft snow. I fell head over heels, helplessly flying through the air. Time slowed down almost to a stop. As I came back to earth, I landed hard on my lower left leg and felt a series of cracks like fireworks exploding in my leg. Next, I felt sharp, stabbing pain. I knew I had broken my leg.

My eight-year-old teammate, Harrison Holetz, hiked back up to where I lay and asked if I was okay.

Go tell Joanne that I broke my leg! I said anxiously.

You can’t have broken your leg! he said skeptically. You’re not even crying!

The distressed, painful look I gave sent him on his way.

The next thing I remember was Joanne comforting me. She took off my helmet and stroked my hair.

***

I saw Harrison’s father, ski patrol Steve Holetz, ski by the lodge pulling an injured skier. Kinda looks like Katie, I thought.

A moment later, Joanne skied up to the deck and looked around anxiously.

Instinct told me something was wrong. I got up and walked toward her, calling her name.

Katie broke her leg! she said, and tears flowed from her eyes.

My heart sank into my stomach, and we embraced.

I’m trained not to show emotion, she confided. It’s part of the business. Meet me over at ski patrol.

It was midafternoon when I stepped inside the ski patrol building and saw Joanne, Steve, and Steve’s wife, Kristi, who worked dispatch that day.

Katie looked distraught, but she didn’t cry, not even when Steve pulled off her ski boot.

Ski team mom and friend Margie Lapanja arrived and drove us to a small, local hospital. Joanne followed in my red Chevy Tahoe. The female physician on call confirmed that Katie had broken her leg, and Katie asked for Joanne.

I opened the emergency room door, and Joanne stood there, her face red and flushed, her eyes moist. Joanne said she had gotten a call thirty minutes before Katie’s accident confirming that she had been selected to race in the Junior Olympic Festival, but she hadn’t told Katie and now she couldn’t.

I stepped back into Katie’s room to tell her she qualified for JOs. Just for a moment, tears rolled down her cheeks, and she said, I won’t be able to ski JOs or play volleyball or run track or go to the school dance! Her distress brought me to tears, and, instantly, she switched gears and bravely said, Mom, don’t cry!

I wanted to transfer Katie to Reno to be close to home, but the locals in the ambulance recommended another hospital. One man said they see more breaks than any hospital in the country, and if Katie was his daughter, that’s where he would take her.

I rode in the ambulance with Katie, and again Joanne followed in my Tahoe.

Doctor Smith was on call. He had brown eyes, a receding hairline, and a thick mustache. He showed me the x-rays —severe spiral tibia fibula fractures from the ankle to the knee! A medical emergency. The larger bone, the tibia, was broken in multiple places. The fibula dangled with breaks near the knee and down by the ankle. Both bones appeared twisted laterally like a wrung-out washcloth.

The female technician who rode in the back of the ambulance with Katie entered the emergency center with us. Katie asked for Joanne again.

Tell them she’s your sister, the technician advised me. It works better that way.

I opened the door to the emergency center, and once more, Joanne stood right there. I relayed my spiel to her about us being sisters.

Same dad, but we grew up in different homes, she added.

Joanne is a French Canadian from Montreal, and I am a southerner from Charlotte, North Carolina.

Dr. Smith appeared again and recommended two flexible rods to support the shattered bones. Joanne comforted Katie, while I borrowed her cell phone and called my husband, Larry Hillson, who was a supervisor at General Motors and a lieutenant colonel in the Marine Corps Reserves.

Then, Joanne and I walked downstairs and sat in the cafeteria. She mentioned an e-mail Katie sent five days ago and said how much she liked that one and believed in her.

Katie’s excerpt

Hey, Joanne, I enjoyed racing with you today. I’m going to win first in the next race. Thank you for the technical advice and for encouraging me today before the race. I was going for the win. You’re the best coach I’ve ever had. I hope I can get into the JO Qualifiers. You make me happy. I’m glad we’re friends. Thanks for everything. Love ya, Katie

***

Margie and the ski team president joined us in the cafeteria, but I don’t recall our conversations. The speed of everything happening to Katie overwhelmed me.

Joanne walked out to my Tahoe to get food; however, I didn’t have much of an appetite.

I called my mom and dad, Harold and Shelby Warren, to tell them about Katie’s accident, and they were saddened by the news.

Hours later, Dr. Smith found us and said the surgery went beautifully. Just before Katie came out of recovery, Larry and our nine-year-old son, Kurt, arrived. Joanne kissed Katie and said she would be back, and our friends parted around nine o’clock. Larry and Kurt walked us up to the maternity ward, where Katie and I stayed overnight. Again, I don’t recall our exchanges.

After they left, I tossed and turned in a foldout bed next to Katie. When I couldn’t fall asleep, I got up, walked across the hall, and showered. As soon as the water hit my body, tears cleansed my soul as I thought about Katie’s words and everything she wasn’t going to be able to do, like ski JOs.

Flashback

Katie had dreamed of going to the Olympics and winning gold since she was a young girl. At three and a half, she climbed to the top of a twenty-four-foot rope to applause at Open Gym, and my friend Betsy Santos said that we would hear Katie’s name announced in the Olympics for something.

At age seven, Katie climbed on the gold podium during a scouting event at Squaw Valley.

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After Katie turned eight, Coach Eddie Harris said she would win lots of medals the first time he saw her ski. She placed in every race at the Tahoe League level, earning the Rusty Crook Award for Outstanding Athlete, and wrote OLYMPICS 2016 on a large, pink eraser that still rests on a recessed shelf in her bedroom.

At ten, Katie placed in every Far West race and won first out of eighty-seven competitors in the Super G at the Far West Championships.

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Far West Championships, 2004

Mammoth Mountain, California

I coached Katie in basketball and softball but wasn’t going to be able to coach her in softball that spring or all-stars that summer. As head coach, our teams placed second in 2004 and first in 2005. Our all-star teams finished second in the state both years, qualifying us for the Western World Series, which Katie missed to visit relatives in North Carolina.

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After Katie turned eleven, our friend Franz Weber, 6X World speed skiing champion and former Olympian, gave Katie skis and took her skiing at Mount Rose with the Reno High team.

Coach Eddie gave Katie an old Olympic speed suit and encouraged her long-term goal.

She was the only fifth-grader at her school awarded the Presidential Physical Fitness Award. She was also given the Presidential Award for Outstanding Academic Excellence upon completion of elementary school.

With Larry’s wood burner she engraved Olympics 2016 in the closet under our stairs, and wrote her Olympic goals in a timeline for school.

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Katie turned twelve a week before seventh grade started and quickly broke a thirty-year mile record during physical education with a 6:24 mile. She played two musical instruments and was on pace to play seven sports, all while keeping a 4.0 GPA. She played seventh-grade A-team basketball at Swope, and her coach said she was the most athletic girl on the team and unstoppable. Katie attended a five-day volleyball camp at the University of Nevada, Reno, in anticipation of upcoming tryouts. She ran cross country and played competitive soccer, and her soccer coach said he could see her playing collegiate ball, Division 1. Close friends and teachers often said they would watch Katie in the Olympics someday, and a few said they would be in the stands cheering for her.

We changed ski resorts because Katie wanted to ski for Joanne, and we had found everything we were looking for in a coach, but their time was cut short.

***

When I entered Katie’s room, she asked me to lie with her. I wedged myself uncomfortably onto one side of her bed but couldn’t sleep. I had all these thoughts, but I noticed the lights and beeping noises from machines hooked up to Katie and the crying of a baby being born down the hall.

The next morning, Margie walked me to the cafeteria and asked if she could open a Katie Hillson Medical Fund, announcing that someone had already offered a $1,000 donation. A rush of emotions quickly engulfed me.

Rhonda Malvey, who was a former orthopedic nurse with a daughter on my softball team, phoned and asked how Katie did in her race. I let her know that Katie broke her leg training on snow blades. She stopped by the hospital on her way home from a ski race and gave Katie a card and Sports Illustrated magazine on the upcoming Winter Olympics.

Dr. Smith stopped by to prepare for Katie’s discharge, and we enjoyed a casual, friendly conversation about our children and where we live.

When can Katie go to school? I asked curiously.

Monday.

When can she start running?

Eight weeks.

Nurses came by and switched Katie from an IV drip of morphine to a Norco pill, which Katie couldn’t keep down. They informed me to keep her leg elevated and gave her crutches. She got out of bed briefly and practiced using them. Dr. Smith wrote a prescription for liquid elixir and gave me his office number where I could reach him if needed.

CHAPTER 2

BAD TO WORSE

I drove Katie home from the hospital around lunchtime. She immediately hopped upstairs to her bedroom, while I gathered pillows from a nearby closet to elevate her leg. She watched the movie Fifty First Dates on a portable DVD player that Joanne lent, and I brought up flowers, cards, and balloons that were sent to the hospital to lift her spirits.

The phone rang frequently, as calls came through asking about Katie. My longtime friend and Katie’s godmother, Gerry Smith, sent an e-mail.

Katie, we are so sorry to hear about your accident. I told Dave when we were watching the Olympics on Sunday that I feel sure we will be watching you participate in some Olympic event in the next four to eight years, and I’m sure that will still happen. I love you and am sorry this happened. Gerry

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Larry cooked dinner after work, followed by a game of Scrabble on Katie’s bed.

That night, he lay by her, charting what time he gave her medicine and how much he gave. Three hours later, I awoke and checked on Katie. Larry complained he wasn’t getting any sleep because she couldn’t keep her leg elevated; the only way she could doze was dangling her legs off the bed.

Keep her leg elevated! I insisted, relaying the only information given to me.

My leg throbs with elevation, Katie pleaded.

Larry had her doing intervals with elevation. Because of the increase in pain, he gave her more medication than instructed, and we were going to run out before the weekend was over.

I checked on Katie early Sunday morning, and the swelling in her injured leg had noticeably increased.

I called Rhonda and told her about the pain with elevation and increased swelling. She said Katie needed to keep her leg elevated, and encouraged me to call the doctor. She dropped off an ice bag on my front porch.

I phoned Dr. Smith and left messages on his office recording, as well as with an emergency room nurse at the hospital describing Katie’s symptoms. Dr. Smith returned my call after I had gone out for a run on the trails in Caughlin Ranch. Larry answered the phone and relayed our concerns.