Memorial website in the memory of your loved one

This memorial website was created in the memory of our loved one, Blake Fought who was born in South Carolina on May 22, 1987 and was killed due to hospital/nurse medical negligence as he was being discharged from this hospital on March 02, 2007 at the age of 19 years old.  Blake was living with his family in Blacksburg, VA.  

We will remember him forever and miss him until the day we take our last breath. 

 He touched the lives of so many people. There were over 400 people at his funeral. We still hear from so many of those people and they still remember our Blake and what an amazing person and strong Christian he was.  This was Blake's favorite Bible verse. I think it fits his life!!!

"I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness,which the Lord, the righteous Judge will award to me on that day." 2 Timothy 4:7

PLEASE LIGHT A CANDLE AND WRITE A TRIBUTE!

Click here to see Blake Fought's
Family Tree
Tributes and Condolences
March 1, 2011   / Mom Fought
March 1 2011
Just thinking about this day 4 years ago has caused intense agony in us all. It was just 4 years ago when those fatal GROSS negligent errors killed you. This was the last day you ever spoke ever laughed ever smiled ever ate ever ta...  Continue >>
The speech I gave at the White House   / Amy Fought (Mom)
March 1 2007
Speech given at the White House

First off let me thank you for the honor it is to come to the White House today. My name is Dr. Amy Fought and I am here on behalf of my husband Mark and my daughter Kaitlyn to tell you a...  Continue >>
A letter to my son   / Amy Fought (Mom)
Dear Blake My darling son I can not believe that it has been 3 years ago today that I saw you hugged you heard you. We all knew you were with us in D.C. You died at 3:00am. At 3:00am at the hotel the hotel alarm clock started to go off and woke the 3...  Continue >>
We have been asked to come to the White House!   / Amy Fought (Mom)
We will be leaving for Washington D.C. tomorrow. For those who dont know I was invited to come to the WHITE HOUSE and have a meeting about our Blake and to discuss what happened to him. We are the FIRST medical malpractice victims EVER to be invited ...  Continue >>
Missing Blake Fought   / Michael Jerrell,JR (Cousin)
Blake i miss you so Much Eastern Alamance were Runner up in the State Championship but they played a good game and shut down the best running in high school football to his season lowest average 154. his name is kevin parks from west Rowan Wes...  Continue >>
May 22 1987 and onward  / Grandma Johnson (Maternal Grandmother )    Read >>
More birthday words for my Blake  / Amy "mom" Fought (Mom)    Read >>
Happy Birthday  / Amy Fought (Mom)    Read >>
West Virginia Quarterback pat white  / Michael Jerrell (Cousin)    Read >>
First Blake E Fought VCOM Memorial Golf Tournament  / Amy "Mom" Fought (Mom)    Read >>
Death: written by Amy Fought  / Mom Fought (Mom)    Read >>
My New Normal written by Amy Fought  / Amy Fought (Mom)    Read >>
Time? / Maren Johnson (Grandmother)    Read >>
Two Years  / Mark Fought (Father)    Read >>
I'm not ready...  / Kaitlyn Fought (sister)    Read >>
More tributes and condolences...
Click here to pay tribute or offer your condolences
His legacy
How could it be 2 years since you were killed???  

You die. You slip from my grasp into the unknown of Heaven’s Realm….
Time stands still. I am frozen in fear. Fear that this is reality and that you have left me.
Seconds pass slowly as I struggle not to scream. Seconds turn to minutes. I become numb.
Minutes pass slowly and turn into hours. Hours turn into days. Days become weeks.

And now… years. I watch in disbelief as the 2nd anniversary of your death fast approaches.
How did time go so fast? How can it be so long since last I held you in my arms and called you son?
Oh my beloved Blake, if I could turn the arms of time back and save you from the coldness of death.
To bring you back to your life. The life you deserved to live before death robbed you from it.
The world is a lonelier place now. The reality of our lives now is jaded, tainted, empty…..alone.
You were a beacon of light in this dark world and now it is dark.
Your Sprit soars now. Heaven must be a brighter place now for it has you. And I am envious.
The cruelty of this world has dealt a mighty blow to us and we will never be the same again.
Silence………You are gone…..forever……

Written by: Amy Fought, written two years after my son was killed by a nurse and hospital errors as he was being discharged. I will hate that place forever.
Our son and brother, Blake  

How does a parent even begin to tell the world about their only son after that child has been ripped away from them? That is what happened to our son Blake.  He had been sick and was in the hospital, but had gotten better and was coming home on March 1, 2007. We were all so happy. That happiness turned into a HORROR that we continue to be stuck in. He was being discharged and an untrained nurse took out a central line improperly and then she and the staff ignored the warning signs of his danger and within hours we were left with saying goodbye to our only son at 3:00 am , March 2, 2007. That is a fate worse than death for any parent. 

Our son was born in South Carolina on May 22, 1987. He was a great child even from birth. He was thoughtful, caring and compassionate. And he was as sharp as a tack. He could debate and argue better than anyone I know.  Guess I always figured he woudl go into politics or become a lawyer. 

Blake was attending Radford University. He was a commuter student and lived at home in BLACKSBURG, VIRGINIA.  He had been majoring in Political Science, but was bit by the news media and journalism bug and had switched his major right before he was killed to Media Studies.  He was a fantastic writer and he was taking GREAT sports photos at the various sports events.  I have no doubt he woudl have ended up working at a National news job.  We will never know now. He was robbed of his life and his future by a STUPID hospital that didnt train their staff.

He was the best big brother anyone could ever be blessed with. He loved his sister from the minute he found out I was pregnant. And he was fiercely protective of her.  He and she were so very close. They could fight with each other as siblings often do, but they loved each other very much. Kaitlyn has been devistated at losing her ally, her friend, her brother!

So how does a family pick up the pieces of a broken life and go on. I dont have an answer for that.... somehow the sun keeps rising and we keep placing one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.  Our lives will never ever be teh same. Blake was a wonderful person, a wonderful brother, a wonderful son and he is missed today as much as he was missed the day he left us. 

A Partial Excerpt from my journal  

"A Year of Firsts"


How does time keep going when it feels like it has stopped? Does the world keep spinning even though it feels like it has stopped? So somehow life has continued and we have now gone through a whole year of firsts.. you know what I mean… first Easter without our son, first birthdays without our son, first 4th of July, first day of school, first vacation, first Thanksgiving, first football game, first Christmas all without our son Blake.

I often wonder how I made it through this year. I wonder about reality of life. I have come to the conclusion that I am not living the same reality as the rest of the world. My reality is warped, distorted. It is one I never could have imaged living. I mean we all say that things that are horrid won’t happen to us. Oh, we read about bad things and say, Wow, that could have been us, or wow I am glad that wasn’t us. But in all honesty, we never ever really picture ourselves living a life of a nightmare such as losing our children.


So here I am.. one whole year after losing my precious son. What have I learned? I have learned that somehow the sun rises, no matter how much you don’t want it to.. somehow it always does. I have learned that no matter how much you beg and plead to God to return your dead child, he doesn’t. I have learned that friends avoid you like the plague is upon your house and is contagious. I have learned the pain of watching your only remaining child struggle to keep her chin up and make it through life without her only brother. I have learned that I can’t make that pain better.

 I have learned that guilt is a POWERFUL emotion and no matter what people tell you, you just can’t let some things go. Just because people tell you not to feel guilty or that something wasn’t your fault or things aren’t in your control, doesn’t make that emotion go away. And even now after a year, I feel guilty for letting him die. I feel guilty that I didn’t make things right, didn’t heal that booboo, couldn’t kiss it and make it all better like skinned knees of yesteryear.

How does a mother or a father get over letting their child die right in front of their eyes? I don’t know. It is something I ask myself at least 100 times a day, each day, day after day, month after month. I mean if our children can’t rely on their parents to save them, then who else can they rely on? I hear from so many people that it wasn’t my place to save him, it was God’s and He had other plans. Which of course doesn’t help things and in fact makes things worse in my confused heart and soul. I have yelled and cursed God this past year. How could he let my only son die? Why didn’t he save him? I know he could. Was it because I didn’t pray hard enough? Or maybe I didn’t pray at all that night. Truth be told, I can’t really remember praying that night. Shock took over early. So what if I had prayed harder or longer or better? Would God have saved my son from dying?

Another big first was my graduation from medical school. This was something my whole family had been looking forward to. I was so excited about being able to walk across that stage with my family watching me.  But without Blake sitting in the auditorium, I just couldnt stand to be at the ceremony.  I know he would have said..."Mom, chill. It's ok. I am here, you just cant see me. Dad and Kaitlyn are here and you CAN see them. Do it for us all. Do it for yourself. We are so proud of you."  I did go to the ceremony and did graduate as a doctor, but it just wasnt the same, and I wanted to get out of there as soon as I was allowed to leave.  I didnt even see when my WHOLE class gave me a standing ovation as I was hooded by our dean. I just wanted the stage to open up and swallow me up.  I tried to get through it the best way I could for my family's sake but it was so hard and my heart just couldnt be in it.

I often feel guilty when I watch stories on the news about people being saved from horrid deaths and they always seem to say it was a miracle. I recall seeing a story this year about a man that fell something like 42 stories off a building while he was window washing. It just doesn’t make any sense at all to me. There are so many people that survive horrid trauma and dangerous situations and yet my son dies from a bubble of air. Since I am a medical student I have been doing my rotations at area hospitals and I have to tell you that I almost hate when I see patients being discharged to go home. Seeing people getting into their cars and going home makes me always question why my Blake didn’t get to go home and these patients do. It just doesn’t seem fair that someone that is 80 years old with COPD from years of smoking and pancreatitis from years of drinking beer is able to walk out of the hospital to go home and my young healthy 19 year old is struck down before he even gets to move out of our house and live on his own. Where is the fairness?


So how do you get through the year of firsts? I guess second by second, minute by minute day by day, month by month. You don’t have a choice. As I said earlier somehow the sun keeps setting and rising and setting just to rise again. The world doesn’t stop. I have spent a lot of days this past year not even getting dressed. I have spent hours just sitting doing nothing. I have cried myself to sleep more days than I can even remember. I have gone through bouts of laryngitis from days spent screaming through the house, calling my son’s name over and over and over. I have driven in my car and screamed to the Heavens to give me back my son. I have had to pull over and cry while driving and sometimes I have driven with tears blurring my vision and didn’t pull over. I have yelled at my husband for not caring about me, or caring about me, for not spending time with me or for spending time with me, etc.


When you hurt and don’t know what to do, you find that you don’t know what to tell people to do when they ask you if they can help. That goes for your spouse or your remaining children or your siblings or your parents or in my case, my medical school classmates. Offers to help do pour in at the beginning but as time goes on it is as if people either forget or avoid the topic. I haven’t figured out what is worse yet, being forgotten and ignored or having people talk to you but having them avoid any mention of your deceased child. It has been easier just to break ties with a lot of my friends this past year. It has been easier on me and I can only imagine it has been easier on them not having to walk on egg shells around me because they don’t want to upset me. I have felt like screaming at them to talk to me about my Blake, to ask me how I am doing without that fear in their eyes that I will lose control and burst out sobbing in front of them. Although, for the most part I have avoided people because I find it hard to be around any one I knew before Blake was killed.

I know that I am not the same person they knew nor will I ever be. I no longer find little things in life something to complain about. My classmates complain about graduation invitations and work hours during rotations and I realize that there are way worse things in life to complain about. So I have distanced myself from them. And of course life goes on and many of my classmates have had babies this past year and that brings sadness to me. I am happy for them as they are just starting out with the new lives they helped bring into this world, but again, I just can’t look at these moments and be happy when I have lost my only son just a year ago. I wonder if that will ever get better for me. Who knows? After all it has only been one year.


What was God thinking? Why is life so random? I don’t have those answers… after all it has only been one year.

Making Power From Weakness  

This is something Blake wrote less than 24 hours before that nurse pulled out that fateful line that lead to his death. There is a phrase in this writing that sends chills up my spine. He states that he feels comfortable being in the hospital, because after all nothing bad will happen to you there....

Making power of weakness

By Blake E. Fought
Wednesday, February 28, 2007 at 4:35pm
(This is a reprint of an article I just posted today on RUnderground, Radford University's unofficial Christian-based blogizine--blog/online magazine. Feel free to check out RUnderground at the following: http://RUnderground.blogspot.com)



People are an interesting bunch. Some always find things in the worst way while others always find themselves looking up no matter what crosses their path. We call these two polar opposites pessimists and optimists and they are always interesting to study because of how dramatic the difference is between the two.

The seventh season of FOX's King of the Hill animated series contains an episode entitled "The Son Also Roses" in which the main character, Hank Hill, finds himself dealing with a son who is more obsessed with gardening than football. Being a caring father, Hank works with his son in a rose-growing competition and is introduced to the Japanese world view known as "wabi-sabi" by his son, who argues with his father over the beauty of an imperfections of a rose making it more beautiful. While the concept's roots are religious in origin, they have become more of a casual concept that takes an optimistic view on things. Bobby explains the concept to his father by saying, "Wabi-Sabi is an Eastern tradition, Dad. It's celebrating the beauty in what's flawed. Like the crack in the Liberty Bell or the mole on Cindy Crawford's face." After Hank rebuffs the idea, Bobby prods again, "But sometimes it's the imperfections that make you love something even more. So what if this rose is a little short, a little wide? It's got more personality than those other ones."

For those who know me well, I have been in the hospital essentially since the eighth of February, batting a condition known as ulcerative colitis. Prior to entering the hospital, I was in a very serious state of pain, mental and physical fatigue and danger of having to have a major surgery if I hadn't been hospitalized. For weeks, I had been attempting to stay strong against a condition that can be so stressful on the mind and body. On a handful of times, I found myself on the verge of just breaking down in tears over how horrible things had been and gave up on doing much besides going to classes, work and resting at home. Some days I would go to hang out with friends but less and less. I pretty much gave up on posting anything here at RUnderground as well because I was simply too tired and, to be honest, didn't care.

Needless to say, things weren't going too well.

Hospitals can be very stressful themselves, especially given what goes on in them. For me, my condition and how much of a toll it took on my body required me to receive two units of blood; an iron infusion; potassium infusions and a complete stop to my diet besides popsicles, Jell-O and soups that forced the doctors to put me on a Total Body Nutrition IV through a large vein in my neck. I also have had to go through physical therapy as my muscles have been weakened to the point where a walk down the hallway of the hospital can be a bit taxing on the calves and legs in general. As a result, I have been granted temporary handicap status for the next few months once I get out of the hospital, which could be sometime this weekend or early next week, depending on how things go over the next few days.

Here's where the pop culture reference and the idea behind this article come into place. Perception and where our strength comes from.

Many of you know I am a Christian. This is most likely due to being so open about my faith and beliefs in the spring of 2006 during the whole media coverage of the "Christ on Campus" debate. I write this article to establish two points--the first being that this whole incident has further proven my belief in the Lord and His love for society and the second addressing a view that was put forth in a recent "Christ on Campus" edition that bothered me a great deal because of how it relates to me, not necessarily in a religious way (I have already since backed away from pointing out all the flaws in that series with Biblical evidence) but a physical way.

Much to my surprise and the surprise of my family and friends, I have been in such high spirits during my time here in the hospital. Skeptics will argue that I am feeling this way because while hospitals are places that no one wants to go to and can be high-stress zones, the mental high I am currently on is generated from the hospital itself--that the comfort and control I am feeling is because of the "you're in a hospital, nothing major can go wrong (of course, this is not a certainty but true in more cases than the opposite) while you are there" concept. I refuse to buy into such a belief.

Personally, I believe that the comfort I have has been given to me by the Lord. After all, the Bible is filled with numerous passages regarding God comforting and healing the sick. Jeremiah 30:17 says, "For I will restore health unto thee... saith the Lord." Psalms 103:2-3 states, "I will bless the Lord and not forget the glorious things He does for me. He forgives all my sins. He heals me." More specifically to my condition and my belief behind it, there's 2 Corinthians 7-10:

"Therefore, that I might not become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong."

In this passage, Paul describes being struck with "a thorn in the flesh." People who study the Bible debate over what exactly this refers to, but a common belief that I subscribe to is that the thorn is a physical ailment that Paul had to deal with for quite a while.

Like me, Paul was in a difficult situation. He was sick, and painfully so--after all, he is described as begging the Lord to have the condition taken away. But it is here that the Lord takes an interesting turn. Instead of a snap-of-the-finger removal of the illness, Paul is given the grace of the Lord. Paul becomes an example of wabi-sabi, an example of the power of God. Instead of being a pessimist about his condition, Paul uses it the disease against the wishes of Satan by glorifying God.

I find myself in a similar situation. I will not go into detail about why I was given this condition, besides that I believe that it was given to me by Satan in an attempt to strike me down, because that will be the subject of much debate and would take away from the focus of this article. I use this moment to further my belief that God is real, that He is always present with us even when we fail to realize Him or His actions. I have been in such incredible spirits during my time here and not because I'm in the "safe zone" of the hospital--I hate being in the hospital. No offense to those who works in hospitals but that's simply the truth. Nobody wants to be here (with the exception of those who collect paychecks by working there).

I credit the Lord for everything. I will always credit Him for everything that He does for me.

Now, my second point (although part of it is based on the first). This past week's edition of Whim Internet Magazine contains a new edition of the "Christ on Campus" series that has been considered discontinued by many given its lack of editions since last semester and the presence of a new series by toonist Christian Keesee entitled "Food," which I personally have found to be comical and witty most of the time.

The toon, which can be seen at the following link, contains three panels. The first shows Jesus walking peacefully towards a traffic sign. The second shows the Lord being hit by a car (with the license plate "IMCRYPL" which I did find witty given that its possible to fit that on a plate name) being driven by a handicapped person who says "Thanks for the quality of life ***hole!!" The final panel shows bloodied Christ talking to God, saying "I just don't understand why a handicapped man would want to run over me." God responds with: "I mean other than the fact that I crippled him for life instead of killing him, I don't know either! I thought people liked spending time in a wheelchair. At least he won't have to worry about walking around places... he gets to ride everywhere!"

One could argue with the premise behind God saying what He did but I can easily see both sides of the potential debate. Personally, I think that part of what the Lord says in the toon is true, but the cartoon makes Him seem a thoughtless, heartless being. That is not the case. Like myself, just because a person goes through a condition or becomes does not mean that it is a bad thing. I know some of you, the dear readers, will scoff at such conjecture, but let me remind you all of the "God tests us and puts trials in our lives to help strengthen us and helps us realize how much He loves us" concept. Some find this position confusing, as they tend to not understand how a loving being would create obstacles in our lives or not snap-of-the-finger fix our problems.

Consider instead the wabi-sabi concept and what Paul went through. Sometimes, disabilities and conditions can help us better understand things and recognize what is good in life. For me, I further realized the tremendous love of God and the caring and compassion of my fellow man, as I have been informed of the numerous prayer lists I have been placed on; have been visited by a slew of people around the community, some of them people I have not known long or at all and the general amount of support I have from people I know, barely know and do not know at all. This whole experience has also taught me a great deal of patience--after all, I was on the annoying "clear liquid diet" for nearly a week and so much desired the taste of noodles, pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, lettuce and many other kinds of foods but was unable and am still unable to eat most of those.

Sometimes, we (Christians included, because sometimes we fail to do this) need to take the time to find the wabi-sabi in our lives. The beauty of imperfection, the power in weakness. Not all negatives have to be viewed as such. Sure, a rainstorm can seem depressing to some, but it gives new life to the earth below.

You just need to look.

Photo Credit: Blake Fought

 
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