Their brother's keeper

Sisters looking for a lift in caring for blind, deaf and partially paralyzed sibling

Font Size:
Default font size
Larger font size

buy this photo CHRISTOPHER SMITH

LAKE STATION | Born blind, deaf and partially paralyzed, Sammy Fuller was only expected to live three years. In October, he'll turn 30. (Watch an audio slideshow)

"It's just a miracle he's still around," his sister Kassie Krueger, 22, said.

Sammy lives with Kassie, her husband, Tommy, and sons Blake and Caleb, in their father's Lake Station bi-level. With Sammy unable to walk, someone has to carry him up two flights of stairs in order for him to be around the rest of the family.

"It's hard. He's a grown man," Kassie said. "Right now, he comes up every other day for a bath and family time. It's just too hard. I've fallen with him."

Sammy receives a Medicaid voucher, which pays for much of his care, but recent applications to have a stair lift installed in the house were denied.

"I'm not asking for an 'Extreme Makeover,' just a lift," she said. "He needs to be up here. He enjoys the dogs and my kids jumping on him. I really believe he feels a part of life when he's up here,"

Sammy's other sister, Kelly Fuller, 25, has been his caregiver for more than four years. Kelly, who receives a stipend from Sammy's Medicaid voucher, spends at least five hours a day caring for her brother, 12 hours on Saturday and Sunday.

Every morning, she gets him cleaned and dressed. On the weekdays, he attends a workshop at Arc BRIDGES in Hobart for much of the day. There, he's exposed to crafts and other activities that heighten his sense of touch.

"I think he enjoys it, going somewhere," Kelly said.

After the bus brings him home, on days he comes upstairs with the rest of the family, either Kassie or Kelly carries him up the stairs and sits him on a blanket in the living room. Once there, he feels everything around him, the soft blanket, the plush carpeting, and eventually finds his favorite toy, a soft kitchen rag that goes right in his mouth.

"He'll soak it," Kelly said. "Sometimes in the morning, I'll have to change his shirt because it gets soaked."

Chewing on the rag, his eyes move rapidly and a faint smirk comes across his face when he feels the vibrations of his nephews Blake, 4, and Caleb, nearly 2, running into the room.

"Blake always demands attention," Kassie said. "He was really confused why Sam didn't pay attention to him. Sammy's eyes are always looking down, so Blake would go and try to get Uncle Sammy to look at him."

Sammy's own childhood is a story of abandonment and uncertainty with how to care for someone so severely disabled. After his parents' separated when he was just 2 years old, Sammy's mother put him in a home for children with special needs. After months of not hearing from her, the home's staff called his father, Mark, and he took him out of the home to live with him. Kassie said Sammy's mother has seen him only once or twice since then, and each time it's as though she's looking at a stranger.

Sammy lived with his father for much of his life, but with Mark's job taking him on the road for much of the year, he spent seven years in nursing facilities and group homes. About five years ago, after finding bruises on Sammy, his father decided to bring him home and asked Kelly to apply to be his caregiver.

"He said If I'm here, no one's going to do anything bad to him," Kelly said.

Aside from the time spent with his family, Sammy only shows emotion when he's splashing around in the tub, Kelly said. While they'd like to give him a bath every day, the only bathtub in the house is on the second floor. Sammy's case manager suggested putting in another bathroom downstairs, in Sammy's room.

"If we get one down there, it doesn't solve the problem. He's always going to be down there. I don't want that," Kassie said.

While Sammy loves being in the bath, it's also a necessity for his hygiene, as he is in diapers, and likely always will be.

"He's like a full-time infant that doesn't grow up," Kassie said.

Kassie said she'll continue fighting for her brother to live as normal a life as possible with the family he knows.

"Some people who hear about Sam think he's in a dark, cold, miserable, lonely world. But to see him laugh, it's the best thing in the world," Kassie said. "He's my brother and I would love for him to be here as long as God allows him."

Print Email

/news/local
Current Conditions
54° F
Sponsored by:

Connect with Us

My NWI