January 12th, 2011 by Conor

Conor,

This is Stephen Schloss, not sure if you remember me. I have to start off by saying that just a few days ago I found my FLIGI hoodie, one of my favorite hoodies ever, in the closet of my old bedroom in my parents’ house in South Florida. I’ve been wearing it every day. Just today, I saw a post on Facebook about your brother. Strange things like this happen…

I want you to know that I can relate very closely to what you’re experiencing, and here is why…

For two weeks in December, my sister and I spent 24 hours a day in a small hospital room with my 55 year old mom. We would each try to leave once every day or two, for an hour, to run home and shower. My mom was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in mid-October and was doing OK until just after her first chemo treatment around Thanksgiving. Things went horribly downhill and we experienced a nightmare that nobody, no children, should have to experience a sweet, innocent, vibrant mother, wife and friend go through. We took her home on December 27 in hospice care and she passed on the morning of December 31 while I was holding her hand.

I’m offering this extremely brief version of my story for you to know that I understand the feeling of spending endless hours feeling helpless at the side of a loved family member. People commenting on how you should be a nurse because you know so much and you’re so attentive and caring. But who the hell wants to learn this stuff if they didn’t go to med school?? What a horrible way to learn. And only we, you, me, Michelle (whom I obviously do not know), and my sister are the ones who can understand that there is no choice otherwise; it’s not because we want to be there or we have to be there, it’s because that’s where we belong. Convenience, comfort, pain, hygiene…none of it really matters, just keeping your spirits up and stopping at nothing to comfort and aide your loved one. I slept in one of those big chairs that you’re in in those pictures for the entirety of my stay at the hospital – with multiple herniated discs in my back and sciatica in my leg so bad that I was in the ER the week before and I haven’t driven in over a month. My mom apologized to me because she knew how much it hurt me to sit with her and rub her feet and to lift her – but I was the only person that she’d let move her around in her bed, or in the chair.

We know what it’s like to feel like all there is is hope and a smile. How incredible it feels to have that loved person that was strong as a bull yesterday, just squeeze your finger today. I have a great feeling that your outcome will be a positive one and that your brother will thrive after this experience. It’s so obvious that he is loved by many and the job that you and Michelle are doing with the website is so incredible. Danny feels that love and hears your words.

I want you to know that if you feel like talking about anything, your experience, hearing mine, or anything else, please don’t hesitate to call me or email me. I’ve cried and screamed and questioned everything. I’ve led decision-making that I could never imagine having to do with my mother’s life.

Stay strong man. You guys are doing great and it’s inspirational to see you tackling this situation like I’m seeing it on the website.

Again, please feel free to contact me at any time. I’m here living every moment as it comes.

All the best in health and sending love and positive vibes your way…

-stephen

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

~Linda Burns

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

Conor,
I snowshoed up to cathedral to get this pic. We just got about 14 in of powder so it was gnarly. needless to say the ride down the road was fairly shreddy.

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

~Matt Davis

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

Danny and I go way way back as friends, in fact, I think he was my first high school crush. Back when he was a little pretty boy with a clean cut haircut and a baby face which he of course still has and probably will always possess. It’s funny to look back and think that I was intimidated by Danny, when now I make fun of him, for any reason at all. I remember my first FliGi sweatshirt (which of course I still have), and partying at SNHU one halloween. Danny always has the most creative costumes.
My first memories of Danny are just as great as my latest ones. Before Danny left the valley to go back out west, I got the pleasure of “shredding” NoCo’s finest with him. The one and only Cranny. We got to joke about how “gnarly” the park is, and laugh at one piece suits and jeans. I think Danny said once, “This must be denim day” and we all laughed hysterically. We had more time to laugh, and less time to ride because the lines were so long. Now I cherish those long lines, and that short time we had to catch up.
Danny is loved by soo many people, and it is great to see the support first hand on this site. It is always a hard task displaying your feelings when a loved one has been hurt. I think about you everyday Danny, and I pray to a God that I don’t necessarily believe in, to help you heal. Get better so we can all really brag about how much “Danny is the bomb”.
Give us your contagious laugh once again.

Love, aLanz

PS. Conor – You are an amazing person, and we all appreciate what you are doing. Michelle – I don’t know you personally, but you seem to care about Danny incredibly. Danny will be so happy to see you two when he wakes up.

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

Lots of love from the McClare family.

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

Went around with a couple of guys and took a few photos for Danny. Been reading dannyisthebomb everyday. There’s a bunch of us over here in the Stan that send our regards and are hoping for the best.

~Joe Carroll

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

I met Danny at Mt Hood this summer. I knew he was a good dude from the moment he I met him. Super friendly and charismatic among many other admirable traits. He was the only dude (camper, digger, pro) I met that week who could throw down on the beirut table. He attributed that to his east coast roots. After a great week at Hood I was stoked that Danny and Moss would both be in Tahoe this winter. Opening day at Squaw finally came around and the first lift of the season i rode up with Danny and Moss as it was dumping champagne pow. I was super excited to finally have some amazing snowboarders and great people to ride with this season. Being from SF i only get to ride on the weekends and a few additional days here and there so i was pumped that the Shreddy Times guys came out on the weekends to ride. I was honored when i made the Shredit #2 as i never thought I’d be in an edit with a rider like Danny. His trick selection and style is so captivating and motivating. I’d anxiously await the next Shreddy Times edit to see what new cool creative riding ensued. I’m now anxiously awaiting when this will all be over and everyone can have Danny back!

Grant

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

Danny, when are YOU going to give me something to write about? I am dying to tell the whole word that you opened your eyes. I really can’t wait to tell people that you are leaving the ICU. Michelle, me, mom and dad are getting a little too used to the 5th floor. It’s time for a change, but, unfortunately, that will not happen without your help.

Although I don’t think it is time for a whole awareness movement quite yet I am really looking forward to taking on the topic of helmets. Moss wrote a great Words piece and I am excited about the thoughts that it already provoked. It’s important for people to understand how much of an accident this really was. This could have happened to just about any snowboarder. Why Danny? I will never know.

Michelle is super stoked that her hat sold last night. I had to actually remind her a little while ago that despite her new entrepreneurial drive that I thought her time was better spent holding Dannys hand. Her efforts are awesome and I am excited by her ambition.

They just repositioned Danny because his ICP has been all over the place. From where I am sitting I now have a direct view of the whole right side of Danny’s skull. The white tape forms a huge backwords question mark on his head. I can’t believe they actually took part of his skull out from behind his skin. It’s hard to imagine that I could poke his brain by just touching his skin. I think Ill pass, for his sake and mine.

Danny’s ICP somehow just hit 63. I’m not a nurse or doctor but at this point you could call me a casual enthusiast – mostly out of necessity. 63 is reallllly high. Highest we have seen yet.

I’m tired of Pandora asking me if “I’m still Listening.” Please redesign your code to recognize movement in the keyboard and mouse. I am in fact “Still Listening!”

Today Michelle and I explored for the first time since Moss, Iris and Mayo left. We went to Target and a gym, both within walking distance. The gym thinks that Michelle and I are a couple and wants to charge us an enrollment fee. I can’t stand enrollment fees. Honestly, what does that really pay for? Entering my name in the computer? Can someone out there please help me understand this horrible thing.

Alright Danny I gotta make it back to the hotel before the sun comes up. Night dood. Love you!

~Conor

January 12th, 2011 by Conor

It’s 4:58 AM. I’m working on my fourth hat and thinking about life. His ICP is back to normal. The nurses have found that he is pressure is the lowest in the most awkward positions. His head slightly tilted back or too far forward, it looks uncomfortable. This afternoon I was around for the cleaning of Danny’s tracheostomy. It was the first time I had seen this done. I figured by now (besides the suppository), I had seen just about everything that was routine with him. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to be so sedated and partially paralyzed (it had been a while since he had any paralytic), but having to cough. Watching him, obviously uncomfortable, was much harder than I thought. I held his hand through the procedure and felt faint. I’ve watched him go through so much in the past week. This is hard. The reality of all this is too much to wrap my head around. Taking this one day at a time. I want Danny back.

-Michelle