Story Time

November 19, 1987, Don and I applied for a marriage licence.

Don, thought it would be neat to get married on our birthday, since we share a birthday. (November 21). I, however, did NOT want to get married on our birthday, and did not want to get married in November, since my first wedding had taken place in November, I thought that would be ... uncouth.

So, he almost had me talked into it, so we got the license. We were still looking for wedding chapels, and talking to the pastor of the church where Don was attending. We, had assumed, falsely, (and found out AFTER we got the license ...) that in Tulsa Town, there is (or at least was) no such thing as Justice of the Peace ..which was going to be our last resort.

I talked him into waiting till December. But our license was only good for 2 weeks AFTER we got it, so we'd have to get married on the first, second or third. We'd talked to his pastor, who agreed to do it. We had our best man and matron of honor lined up.

Then, on Monday, November 30th, we got a call, the pastor was backing out. We got 2 stories, we never figured out which was the real story ...it really doesn't matter ..one was that he was going out of town on an emergency. The other was this "besides, so and so is complaining that Peggikaye's been married before" (it was a woman whom I'd gone to church with before when I was married before. She also knew the whole story of me being left after 4 months, and it should have been annulled, not divorce! Granted, she didn't know WHY I was left, but she was aware that legally, we qualified for an annulment) So, they were this high donation to the church, high powered couple. We were this low income ... nothing ..and we think he just gave into pressure. That, is neither here, nor there other than, that is how we came to get to being married where we did.

So, Monday night, we've got just till Thursday to find where we can get married. We start to call ..chapels were WAY out of our budget ... we finally found one.
*
*
*
*
*
*
Most people don't realize they can do weddings. I never knew that they did. Never have heard of anyone else getting married there either.

The Salvation Army Chapel.

So, we're supposed to meet our Best Man and Matron of Honor at 2pm on December 2nd at the Salvation Army in down town Tulsa.

Every girls dream.

When we left, we called our friends, and they were on their way. So, we get there, and the chaplain tells us that our matron of honor needs us to call. We were very confused ...but we called.

The best man had fallen on the ice on the way out to the car, and slipped a disc in his back. (he wound up being laid up for over 2 months!)

We, had no guests coming, there were no alternatives for witnesses. Now what? We had one day till the license expired.

The chaplain said that there were always 3 people on site at all times, they could be the witnesses, but first, he wanted to do some 'pre marital counseling'.

OK.

So, after about 45 minutes, he calls in the witnesses.

One guy was HUGELY obese ... could barely walk. He was homeless, but volunteered at the center and used their shelters.
The other guy, extremely thin, and was missing his right arm. A war vet, homeless, who also lived at the shelter and volunteered at the shelter.

These, were our witnesses. They stood beside us. They stood straight, and they smiled through the whole ceremony. You'd have thought, that we'd been life long friends. They knew, they were being asked to do something that was normally an honor bestowed on people close to someone's heart. They took their job of being witnesses to our marriage quite seriously!

We finished the ceremony, they signed their names ..we signed ...the minister signed ..and we all gave each other handshakes and hugs ...and Don and I walked out the door. Mr. & Mrs. Donald Eagler.



Married in a Salvation Army Chapel.

Don said "Wow! It's for real!"
I said "Who was my maid of honor?"

Twenty years later ... we're still married. I keep thinking of the show Bridezilla (although, not having cable, I've never seen an episode) and thinking how much emphasis they put ... and how little we had ..and yet ... the ceremony worked ... just as well (maybe better?)

So, on December 2, 2007 ... we're going to renew our vows. With all we've been through, the better and the worse ... the house, the sick kids, the health issues and the struggles in our marriage, we can't think of anything better to do.

This time ..we'll have a wedding. A little closer to the one that this girl ... and this girl dreamed about ...

Bravery and Elephants

"It was the hardest week of my life. It was the best week of my life!"

Those were the first words out of the mouth of my 17 year old when I picked him up from the church today after he'd spent a week as a CIT (counselor in training)at church kids camp.

When we got into the car, he said "There is nothing more incredible in the world, than 150 kids singing praises to God"

Those are words ..that this mother was very proud to hear.

I'd spoken with the counselor he'd worked with. I'd asked Doug how he'd done, and his first words were not what a mom wants to hear "he's great! He's fantastic! What a kid you've got there!"

But rather "It was a growing experience!"

uh oh!

Then, he pulled me aside and told me the story, which, will remain between myself and Doug. Suffice it to say, while it was the best week in my sons life, it was, a hard week ...and he grew by leaps and bounds!

My son, has some deep fears ... they are a result of living with OCD. One of the worst ... heights. Last year, proudly watched him temporarily conquer them in order to participate in building the house as he worked on the roof. White as a ghost, and often sick to his stomach. Many times shaking. He got up there with his friends and the other workers. He did it. As afraid as he was ...because he wanted to build his house.

Well, his counselor took him out to a rope climbing course, not knowing his fears ...and not knowing he had OCD talked Samuel into climbing the ropes. Samuel, had a melt down ...and ... then Samuel swung from the ropes to get down!!!!

I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes wondering how many times I've chosen to climb down the post rather than swing through the air. I'm proud of him. Very.

He really really enjoyed camp. As hard as it was ... he really enjoyed it. Watching kids make a decision for Christ, watching kids choose to work hard to win the 'golden plunger' to get the cleanest room. Watching kids mature ... and watching some maturity in himself.


Then tonight ... my husband and I, wanted to say thank you to some friends who'd been so helpful and supportive of us during our stay in the hospital. (um, er ..HIS stay in the hospital rather). So, we invited them to eat with us at the Elephant Bar Restaurant.

Now, after I got over my confusion ... in town, there is an Elephant Run ... I never knew that Elephant Run was a bar ... I always thought it was a restaurant.

So, when my friend sent out the email invites for us ... I freaked ...she sent out the invites to Elephant BAR ... OH NO!!! ELEPHANT RUN!!!!!!!

So she comes back and says "YOU WANT TO GO TO THE BAR?" (kids were invited, church small group event as well as thank you event!)

NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooo

So ...then I find out that Elephant BAR is the restaurant ..and Elephant Run is the bar ... go figure. I'm still confused.

Ok, so we go tonight ...and there were 20 or so people who showed up. It was absoluetly incredible ... lots of fun ...and loud! We didn't get to speak with everyone, but everyone had a wonderful time. It was nice to have everyone together ...and it was a great time. It was nice to look down the table and see "these people all came ...and helped us, repeatidly!!" How wonderful to know we are truly loved ..and we truly love.

It was also good to see them out of the hospital. *smile*

Tagged

I have been tagged by two friends ... YMX buddies as well as 'invisible friends' *grin* So, I get to kill 2 birds with one stone *BIG GRIN*
So, for Patti and Deneice ...here goes :

Rules to play:

1. players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
2. those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.
3. players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.


1. I played volleyball and softball and track and field in high school.

2. I played the clarinet ... but I was awful. My nickname in band ... was Jerry. As in the mouse ... from Tom and Jerry. (SQUEAK!!!!!!!!)

3. I can't stand the color purple!!!!!!!

4. I have discovered that I think I like cats more than dogs. My 5 year old neice was here the other day and she was trying to make my cats play with her. They, of coarse, would not be forced. She informed me that I needed to get a dog who would play no matter what. Dogs, were more fun, playful and less boring.

At that point, I realized that I actually liked the quietness of my cats.

5. I love to cook. I don't like to eat. At all.

6. I love to be alone!

7. I love old hymns and new praise and worship music.

8. I don't like to be the center of attention ... at all.

Tag 8 people ... hmmm I may have to think about that for a day or so and get back to it.

Brain Drain



When people hear the term "Brain Drain" they usually think of one of two terms ... they either think of economic terms ... Wikipedia's definition is as follows:

Brain drain can occur either when individuals who study abroad and complete their education do not return to their home country, or when individuals educated in their home country emigrate for higher wages or better opportunities. The second form is arguably worse, because it drains more resources from the home country.

This phenomenon is perhaps most problematic for developing nations, where it is widespread. In these countries, higher education and professional certification are often viewed as the surest path to escape from a troubled economy or difficult political situation.

Or ...they think of spending mind numbing hours doing nothing but playing video games or reading trashy romance novels or watching the 'boob tube' that does nothing to build the brain ..thus draining it of any viable intelligence ... no exercise ... intellectual or physical ...nothing gained ... nothing expended ... nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Brain Drain.

I've been thinking of the term Brain Drain lately in a different way ... I've been intentionally looking for ways that I can, in fact, practice 'brain drain'.

*blink*

What? Why? Who would do such a thing? Aren't we as American's working toward NOT being Brain Drains? Being productive ... etc etc ... yea ...but ...

I need rest ... however, when I rest ...and just rest ... I go nuts. Absolutely nuts.

So, then I thought of what I needed to do ...was ACTIVELY REST! (stop staring at me like that Moof and Cathy!!!!!)

Let me explain.

I need to let my body rest and my brain destress. But ...just 'resting' would often cause me more anxiety than the *resting* was doing me good. Now, I know many who read this will actually identify with that concept *cough* (see who I told to stop staring at me!!!)

I started to picture a drain in a sink ... it stops the stuff from going down the drain that you don't want to go down the drain, but allows the water to go down to the sewer. Suddenly I realized ... I needed activities that allow me to BRAIN DRAIN.

I need things that allow the stress, the useless information to be filtered from my brain, while hanging onto the information, and the important stuff ... and sometimes ... sitting up at the computer, or going for coffee with a friend, sitting and doing puzzles, reading a book .. and sometimes sleeping ... is in fact doing the Brain Drain activity ... it just depends on what is needed at the time.

Let the junk go down the drain, zone out .. relax ...and don't worry about the
'supposed to be's' (I'm supposed to be sleeping ... I'm supposed to be folding laundry ... I'm supposed to be writing ... I'm supposed to be laying down ... I'm supposed to be ... I'm supposed to be ...) talk with a friend, IM with a friend, read a blog, write a blog .. write a poem ... do what the brain says comes naturally ...

then, when I am relaxed, the stuff that's left in the drain, can be better sorted out rinsed off ... and put where it belongs.

I do hope this post made some sense .... or maybe it needs to go down the drain! ;)

We, are home at last.

They did not do the bed. Medicare and their rules *rolling eyes*. I guess it's still something being considered for future ...

He has his bi pap machine, walker, and oxygen.
There is the funky machine that will generate the oxygen for his bipap machine, give him oxygen in the house AND fill his portable oxgyen tanks.

He has a 4 wheel walker, with a seat and brakes. It's midnight blue, which, really, looks purple in the wrong light. It, is just wrong!

Tomorrow, home health will get here about 10 am. He will get home health 3 times a week and PT and OT 3 times a week for 2 weeks, then we'll see. He follows up with PCP, neuro and pulmo ... PCP in 1 week, neuro and pulmo in 2 weeks.

The boys decided to spend the night at their friends house. We have mixed feelings about that. It is nice to have a quiet evening at home, just the two of us, but part of us are going "your father just got home!!!"

oh well, such is the life of parents!

Home, Sweet Home!

42 days ... end in sight.

It's been 42 days since Don first went into the hospital. That's 6 weeks.

He was taken by ambulance to the ER, then admitted to the med/surg floor (7 tower) from there, he was moved to the ICU, from there, he was moved back to the med/surg floor, 7 tower again. Then he was moved to 9 tower when they closed 7 Tower down for remodeling. Then, he was moved to the Long Term Acute Care facility (L Tac) where he spent longer than I can remember ... and from there, to rehab.

We have a discharge date. Friday! July 6th. Our Independence Day!

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm ready ... will I be ready. Uh ... YES!!!!!!

Yea, I know caretaking at home will bring a whole new set of issues, but he will be here ... and I will wake up in the morning and see HIM, and I can walk into another room and see him .... and we will talk, and laugh and cry and argue at will ... and there will be no miles ... or phones ...

I can't wait to see him sitting on the couch ... with the kitty cats in his lap, just sitting there watching a show I have no interest in while he bugs me about spending time talking to my invisible friends on the internet ... and we smile, just because we're together ... our family, all in the same room. Changed forever by the last 6 weeks ... but still, together.

Held

A couple of years ago, a song hit the christian radio airwaves, "Held" and it took the airwaves by storms. It rang true for so many people. Natalie Grant had a friend who lost their 2 month old son and as she saw their grief, she realized that we, as Christians did not really know how to deal with grief. Some of us expected to be given a pass on grief and pain simply because we have believed in God.

Many get through their trials, and become much stronger and are able to say ...this, is what survival is. This, is what it is when God see's you through a battle.

I think, the phrase in the song that struck me the most when I first heard it, was the "we're asking, why did this happen to us, who told us we'd be rescued"

The mentality of there will be perfection after coming to the cross ... no pain after coming to Christ, that He will heal our pain (instantly is the given implication) and that even if the healing is not instant, there will be no more grief experienced to add on ... and the reality is ... God never promised us that. He promised, to hold us, to see us through this harsh world that has it's unfair grief ..and to get us through the valley of the shadow of death and to bear us up, when the battle wages on longer than we expected. He never promised to take us out, only to be with us.

In Isaiah it talks about the fire and the flood ... God promised that we would walk through the flood and it would not over take us, and we would walk through the fire and not get burned ... He however, did not promise that we would not get hot, and that we would not get wet.

When my friends baby died 2 months ago yesterday, I heard this song right as I got into my car after the funeral. As I was reminded by God, that He was with me in my grief, and my pain, and my friends deep deep grief ... and in that special timing ... 2 years is too little, but that this is what it means to be held ... I knew that inspite of my broken heart, God knew. I knew he was there.

Yesterday, I was thinking about what the song meant to me in my current situation. So, I thought I would post the words ...and below, I will post what it means, for Don and I ... and where we are now .....

Held
By Natalie Grant

Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.


Who told us we'd be rescued?

What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens To us who have died to live?

It's unfair.

Chorus:
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was When everything fell we'd be held.


This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred know our sorrow.
The wise hands opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.

(Chorus)
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was When everything fell we'd be held.

Bridge:
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning. Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

(Chorus) This is what it means to be held. How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life And you survive. This is what it is to be loved. And to know that the promise was When everything fell we'd be held.


Don and I had known for years that eventually his body would decide that it had had enough. That the twisting of the scoliosis would decide to tear apart his body. We'd done the smart thing, and talked, and planned ...and we did the smart thing and acted like it was never going to happen. You simply cannot live as if it's going to be over your head. The depression it would cause would be unbearable.

For the last 18 months, Don and I have had a wonderful marriage. A gift ... a second chance ... and now, everything's changed and we don't know where we stand, or where we are going. As we wait to find out what our new version of normal is going to be ... we sit, and we are Held.

What was sacred ...freedom, independence, breathing ... dressing ... Don getting up and going out for a cup of coffee on his own ...showering ... without someone driving him ... or helping him to get there ...walking ... mowing the lawn ...

Living a life .. in conjunction with a family, but independent of the family ... helping the family, supporting the family ... supportive of the family ... working together to help the family be a family unit, but not dependent on the family ...

That was sacred ... and now ... he will be coming home .. with medical equipment

A bipap machine
a walker
a shower chair
a grabber
a wheelchair
oxygen
an air mattress

The thing we don't know .. the air mattress ..what does that mean? Will that mean he'll need his own bed ... and that ... is sacred. What does that mean? Will it fit OUR bed ... or will it be required to have a hospital bed?

Everyone knows that the marriage bed is sacred ... will we even be sharing a bed? This is what it means to be held, when the sacred is torn from your life ..and you survive ... this is what it means when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive ... this is what it means ...

He will adjust to the walker, he will get used to needing a wheelchair some of the time, oxygen sometimes ..and the bipap at night. He will adjust, we will adjust ...
and we will be held.

He is here .. and we just have to know that we are in the palm of God.

What we once took for granted, is no longer our normal, and God knows that, and he will extend to us the grace and mercy that we need ...so that we know, that we've been held ...

A couple of weeks after he got out of ICU, I was reflecting back on that time, and scripture ..and I realized that I had indeed walked through the valley of the shadow of death ... and I realized that in that time ... I was filled with love, and concern for my husband ... and I was NOT ready to loose my husband ... but there was a calmness, and a lack of chaos for me ... and I was not filled with fear! I had truely walked through the Valley of the Shadow of death, and not feared the evil ... Because God was with me.

That was what it meant to be held ... and to survive.

It's been over 5 weeks ... since he went into the hospital ... it will probably be the end of next week before he comes home ... and with a whole new lifestyle of equipment ...This is what it means to be held. How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life And you survive. This is what it is to be loved. And to know that the promise was When everything fell we'd be held.

not much today

Nothing much to update today,

I tried to wake up this morning and my body would just not wake up. I was soo drowsy, I just kept falling asleep.
Don called to see when I was coming in, and I told him I couldn't seem to wake up, and he and I agreed I would just sleep till I was slept out.

When I finally woke up, I realized that I was sooo hot. I thought I'd turned the a/c off, or the a/c wasn't working. So I went to check the a/c.
Nope, a/c is just fine ...and blowing.
I swallowed ...and realized ...whoops, the throat hurts.

So I took my temperature ...101.2. Crud.

I called the doctor, they called back. Under normal circumstances, they'd make me come in, but given that they'd just stuck me on prednsione dose pack for the lupus/MG flare, and that I've been exposed for the last month to who knows what around the hospital ... and I'm on Cellcept (immunosuppressant) even if it IS a virus, it could go into a secondary bacterial, and Don doesn't need that exposure. So, stay home till I'm fever free for 24 hours ... and take the antibiotics.

*whew* the last thing I wanted was to drag myself to the doctor's right now. 99 times out of 100, I would cringe out of a doctor giving antibiotics without an exam or proof of bacterial infection. This, is the 1 time out of 100 that I was really hoping they'd just go around the standard rule.

Ya know, I *ALMOST* on gut instinct asked for a script of antibiotics when she started me on the high dose prednisone last week. I've never started on high doses of prednisone without getting sick. I thought about it, and said I promise to let you know if I use them. And thought "nah, that's absurd"

On the Don front.

Sigh. He called last night, they'd come in to weigh him ... he's down to 90.4 pounds. He was 98 lbs when he checked in. They have him on a high calorie, high protien diet and he is eating. I guess the physical exercise is pushing him and burning more calories in trying to build his endurance to gain back what he's lost?

The pulmonologist is trying to give his nose a break and seeing what happens when he's off oxygen when he's just laying down without activity. The nurses, the Respiratory therapists and PT's are not impressed. He was at 98 to 100 on oxygen, and just laying down doing nothing dropped to 94.

However, he's had bloody noses for the last 3 or 4 days. So, at least for a couple of days, as long as it stays at 94 ... we're going to give his nose a chance to heal.

So, today, I'm home, much to my husband's dismay ... :( (but you've been coming up not feeling good for the last week!!) trying to get healthy enough to go back up again and not infect him with what ever has invaded my body.

I did make a couple of phone calls to say "he needs company!"

Wow, that was longer than I intended.

A Child Alone

It was 1959, He was 3 years old and would not be 4 until November 21st. The summer was hot ...He was the middle child of 5. His mother had given the oldest girl to her older sister to adopt. Not an unusual happening for that generation when a pregnancy happens when it shouldn't and you wanted no one to know.

So as far as the kids and neighbors knew, he was the second to oldest. His older brother was 2 years older, his younger sister 2 years younger, and the baby was a year younger than the sister. Just a baby. Near by, the Grandmother lived and helped in the raising of the 4 kids, and the older sister and her husband also lived, on the same street, raising their adopted daughter, who was the birth daughter of the boys mother. The father, was in the picture as well.

He became sick and was taken to the doctor. His mother heard the words that no mother ever wants to hear ...and at that time, a word that struck fear into the hearts of even the bravest of souls. A word that today, just means a simple 'well baby' trip to the doctor. But back then, it could mean the world would end ... it certainly meant the world as the family knew it was ending.

Polio.

They lived in a small town in Northern California, not too far from Sacramento. The city was too small to handle such a sick baby, and quickly, they transfered the three year old to San Fransisco's Children's hospital.

Just 9 years earlier, it had been a center for the polio epidemic, but polio was on the decrease, thanks to the vaccine. This child, had missed the vaccine. It was being given to school age children in his community, and he was not quite 4.

His father, unable to handle the pressure of 4 kids and one of them terribly ill, just disappeared from their lives, abandoning them all.

His mother took him to San Fransisco, where he was placed on an iron lung. 3 years old, and in an iron lung, in a hospital far from home ... with strangers ... and away from everything familiar.



His mother, having 3 other children at home, decided to leave him in the care of the strangers at the hospital. I've tried and tried for 20 years to see this through her eyes, and no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot. I've had sick children ... I've had very sick children. I've sat in the hospital with a child that was sick with pneumonia. I've sat in the hospital with a child with meningitis ... and while I don't know what it is like to have a child with polio, I do know what it is to have a sick child.

I do know what it is to have to make the choice between the child at home and the child that is sick ..and I don't get it. There was an Aunt and Uncle and Grandmother to step in for the 3 healthy children back home ... and there was no one in San Franscisco but nurses and doctor's for the three year old boy in the iron lung


Over the next 6 years, the child would spend half of his childhood going through surgeries, and therapy ... in and out of San Fransisco Children's ... spending birthdays and holidays with nurses to celebrate for him. His playmates were the other children in the ward, and his teachers were the nurses.

I've been asked by several people why I go up to the hospital for 5, 6 8 to 10 hours a day to sit with my husband ... why I'm wearing myself into the ground. He's a big boy ...he can entertain himself ... most adults do, and get by with visits. They remind me that I've been in the hospital 26 times and I don't need this kind of care ...and for some I just say I know ... and for others I tell them about the three year old left alone ... in the iron lung



The six year old who had back surgery, to fuse his back 2/3 of the way ...or the 10 year old who had nurses to throw his birthday party.

I see his eyes light up when I walk into the room and his face drop when I tell him I'm going to leave. If I had it physically within my body, I'd be with him 24/7.

He may be a 51 year old man, but his soul is a 3 year old who's been abandoned once again ... and he's been there for a month today ..and he knows he has a few weeks ahead of him.

more

Sometime later next week, Don will be moved from the L TAC to the rehab hospital.

The doctor said he will be there for at least two weeks, if not 3 to 4 weeks.
In rehab he will get more intensive therapy to increase his endurance.

I'm exhausted, and weary.

I've found myself pulling into a hole ...and not calling people or reaching out. I've not even been to church in weeks.

I had a conversation with my pastor a couple of years back asking him why we have to depend on our brothers and sisters in Christ, if we know how to recieve comfort from God and he gave me an answer that just frustrated me. I know now that I made a mistake in not learning the lesson he tried to teach me.

As it is, I don't know how to say to those close to me ... help. I'm alone, and scared and stuck. The people I'm telling what's going on are out of town, out of state ...and across the internet. I text messaged my pastor (former pastor) and told him that I'm isolating a little ...and within 20 minutes, I got a phone call from my dear friend Wanda (from Wanda's Wings) and she said "how ya doing?" I said fine her response was "Pinocchio"

She'd been called and told to check on me. Whoops.

Our youth pastor warned me of being careful to not get caretakers fatique ... I'm don't know how you know when you have caretakers fatique ... but I know that I was glad to see the kids come back to camp, but I find the idea of going to church almost terrifying.

I think the questions of "how are you, how is Don" will be overwhelming. I know that I will be hugged by people I don't want to be hugged by ...and I know I will have to repeat what's going on more times than I can count ... so it's easier to just not go. The more I stay away, the easier it is to just not go.

So, here I am, hiding in my home and in my husband's hospital room, updating people only through on line measures ... and not making calls to friends to say 'hey! I'm lonely' or going to get a cup of coffee with a friend or go do something interesting ... and I know that all of this is draining me and the more I do it, it's all I can do.

What is feeding me? Nothing, literally nothing....not spiritually, not emotionally, not nutritionally. My food intake has dropped to little to nothing ... a few bites of fruit or veggies ... and every third day or so I might eat part of a real meal.

I see myself sinking and part of me feels like it's ok. When Don is ok, I'll pull myself up. The other part of me just wants to sit down and say I've fought for so many years I don't want to fight anymore. The other part of me just wants to say ...someone needs to fight for me ..only I don't want to reach out to anyone to tell them I just don't have any fight left.

Blessed Be The Name

Blessed Be Your Name
by Matt Redman- - -

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

4 weeks

Today has been 4 weeks since Don went into the hospital.

What a month it has been.

I am exhausted, and weary at this point. I'm unsure of what we're facing in the future ...how much recovery he'll gain ...and what that means for us as a family.

He's lonely at the hospital, and I'm needing to be there with him for most of the day. He says I don't, but then when the idea of me leaving, or not come in until later in the day comes, you can see the anxiety build.

What we know at this point: he will be on oxygen from now on. They will not be weaning him off of it ...at all. It will be a 24 hour a day thing for life. He will be on a bipap from now on.

They are discussing the possibility of ordering a wheelchair. They will be ordering a walker. How long it will take him for him to be able to ambulate without the walker, we have no idea. We also don't know if he will. We're in limbo at this point. We don't know what our new version of normal will be, and we don't know how long it will be before we know what our new version of normal will be.

The nurses, PT's and OT's are so excited because he can do so much more than they'd ever expected him to do. They don't understand our discouragement, frustration and fear. They just don't seem to realize that he really was NOT sedentary ...and that getting used to the idea of having to live on oxygen, and having to get used to the possibility of needing walking assistance ...and wondering how long it will be before he can just decide to go out by himself and get a cup of coffee ... IF he'll ever be able to do that again.

On the mom front, when she fell and broke her finger, the day after Don was hospitalized (no, not the broken hand & ribs, that was a few weeks before this) she'd also injured her knee. She had an MRI and today we got the results. A piece of bone had broken off and is floating around the knee cap. The ortho doc gave her a shot in hopes to settle down the inflammation. Mom is not willing to have him operate to take the bone out right now. I can't say that I was cheering for her to opt for the surgery option at this point.

The reality is, she needs that knee replaced and he is probably going to try to talk her into just doing the whole thing when it's time. It's going to take quite the talking with as much trouble as she had with the first knee replacement.

Monday she went to the PCP to talk about her falling and her memory issues. I had to drop my kids off at church for church camp and was not able to be there. She knew this, and immediately called me and asked to have Samuel come over to help with some chores (um ...hello?).

I see the PCP tomorrow at my psychologists request ... because ...in her words ... I look awful ... lupus rash, low muscle tone in my face, sighing between sentences ... in other words: autoimmune mess. I will ask PCP about her impressions then.

I will also most likely get a prednisone dose pack for me.

We have no estimate of discharge yet, it's not on the table yet. So it will be at least next week, if not the following week, they are not in a hurry. He has a long way to go before he's ready to come home.

Father's Day

Today was Father's Day.

It's the first Father's Day I spent with my real father since I was 13. He's been in town for the last week. I only spent about 30 minutes with him, he came up to the hospital to see Don and the boys and I. My sister's family had been passing around a respiratory infection ..and my Dad caught it, so he was wearing a mask. I'd suggested (strongly) that coming up was not a good idea, but he came anyway, insisting that he wanted to see Don one more time. He told Don on the phone that it was just a sore throat. Then when they got ready to leave the room (they leave town tomorrow) K (his new wife) said that the night before he'd been coughing so bad he'd not even been able to lie down to sleep and had to sleep sitting up. I, was not amused. The mask had better have been enough to keep from passing the germs on. It's obviously highly contagious because it made the rounds through my sisters kids, then onto my Dad ... it's the last thing Don needs and I take strong drugs to suppress my immune system (Cellcept and prednisone).

A friend came by to see Don, and brought her 2 children. They'd used their Bible bucks at church to buy Don father's day gifts. They don't have a father in their lives. They adore Don, and they look to him for leadership and as a male role model. They love him dearly. It touched Don more than anyone could have imagined. Including my own kids. They were so proud of their little friends, and so happy to share their Dad with the kids ... it was really special.

Don has a particular gift he wants ... and it's specific, and he and the boys are supposed to get it together. So, we were waiting till he got out of the hospital so they can go get it together ...rather than me messing it up and getting the wrong one. (tecno gadget MP3 player). The boys were just tickled Daddy got to open something on Father's Day. Don was worried they'd feel bad ...and they were so relieved he had something to open.

Don, is getting very depressed over his lack of progress in gaining strength and mobility. With no permanent answers, and the possibility of this new lifestyle change ...dependency ..adjustment ... it's hard. My heart is breaking for him. I'm so glad that I've made the choice to stay with him this week. I know he said he wanted me to go to camp, but emotionally, he really could not have taken me being gone this week.

I'm really getting weary ...and today has been particularly hard. I was walking down the hallway of the hospital and just got suddenly angry at my step father for not being here ... for leaving me when I was 14 ... I need his support and unconditional love right now. I need those strong loving arms right now that will tell me that all will be ok ...that regardless .. he's there ...only ... he's not ..and he never will be again.

Tomorrow, my mom goes in for an evaluation with the PCP, again, for her frequent falling (did I post that the day after Don was admitted to the hospital that she broke her finger? ... the forefinger on the hand with the cast ...that made 5 bones in 9 weeks that she'd broken) and she's also going to include her jerky movements, her inability to complete thoughts and her forgetfulness.

I'm supposed to be there, but I have to take my kids to the church to take them to camp. I can't be in 2 places at one time ... I had to make a choice. As much as I've been fighting to get my mom some help, I really need to take my kids and to be able to hug 'my girl's' and explain to them why I'm not going to camp.

The PCP appointment is to get a referral to a neurologist ...so hopefully I will be able to accompany her on that appointment. In the meantime, maybe me not being there to interpret what's going on just might do more good in getting a diagnosis than if I am there??? Maybe if they can't follow her, they'll get what we're dealing with. Maybe I'm just wishful thinking. Right now, that has to be left in God's hands.

I wish I had better news ... Today (Father's day) is 26 days in the hospital. We're both so weary and trying so hard to not be weary. I think, if we had some answers besides "we'll know more in 6 months" it would be so much easier.

Hiatus

Today, I just made a really hard phone call.

I called a friend, who happens to be an elder of our church, and a member of our church transition team, and told her that I needed to take a hiatus from all my responsibilities at church.

From the worship team secretary, to youth group counselor & youth group sunday school assistant ... ministry team representative for worship team & children's ministry ... small group leader.



I don't even know what all I do ... I just do it.

Right now, we have no answers ... they don't know if the weakness & nerve pain in his hands and arms & legs that are interferring with his functioning is because of the degree of combativeness that he had ...and the scoliosis and the displaced spinal cord and foramen ... and therefore damaged while he was fighting us ...

or were the nerves just bruised and will they heal ... it could take up to 6 months before we know if he will regain any of the use of his arms and legs enough to know.

Right now, he can't take care of himself. He can't stand up on his own, he can't dress himself, and he has to have help to get up just to go to the bathroom. He even gets exhausted feeding himself.

He is still in need of oxygen just to exist in bed and to do what he is doing.

Today was day 25 in the hospital ... we're both on the weary side.

Updating on a rollercoaster

Today, I went into the hospital to see my husband as usual. When I arrived, the physical therapist had just cajoled him out of bed to work on his endurance and taking a few steps. He'd really not felt good and had to be talked into it, but he was.

He walked about halfway down the hall with the walker and the PT supporting him. By the time he got there, he was almost angry. I can't say I blame him. 21 days today. And he's been couped up and tied up to machines, and he's just facing such an unknown.

The doctor came up while he was trying to get walking again. She told us the news that Don most did not want to hear. That the existing problem ( C5/C6 movement, with exposed spinal cord) was worsened, significanlty. It's now the C5/C6 & C6/C7 and the spinal cord is displaced with (?iffy on medical facts here, not sure I fully understand) the foramen exposed as well.

This, is what's causing the extreme pain and weakness in his arms. Which, for him, IS his mobility. His arms propel him while he walks, they lift him to a standing position and help to stablize him. But at least he's going, for now. The pain from the spinal issue is causing significant pain in his hands though, and gripping the walker is quite difficult. He dropped his fork several times today and could not lift the cover off the food with his right hand. The loss of control has us very concerned.

If the EMG is right... the damage is done, and as long as the nerves are compressed in the neck, there is nothing that can be done ... and well, with Don's repsiratory system, he's not a candidate for the surgery.

They also think the C5/C6 exposure is what is increasing his breathing difficulties. The C5 is what effects the breathing & swallowing muscles.

So, once again, we are waiting to see ... what's next and where we go from here.

Interpretations

I thought Don was doing so well ... and today, a reality check. We're waiting to get him into the Long Term Care facility ...and one doctor is holding it up. We're not sure why. We find out today, it's because he doesn't come over there daily ... the specialists just come over there occassionally ... once or twice a week.

Don has to be stable enough to not need HIS care daily. Oh. So, Don has to become stable enough to move him to this long term care facility for Critically Ill patients .... oh.

Reality check time. He's better, he's significantly better. He's but he's still very sick.

The doctors are a little frustrated with him wanting one thing one day and then not agreeing to it when they go to do it. Either they're not listening, or they're not understanding that they haven't made themselves clear to us. They haven't explained to us how the Bipap machine works ..and why he can't be on oxygen for 4 hours and then on the Bipap for 2 hours, off for 4 hours .. and only today was I told, it can't be done that way ... I still don't know why ...just that it can't. They are seeing him as non compliant, and we are not understanding and asking for explination. The really frustrating thing ...this is my most beloved doctor in the whole world ... I love this man dearly and when Don was so sick and his partner was seeing Don (his partner is on vactation, so he is seeing him now) Dr. G saw me, gave me a hug and I just kind of fell and melted and started to cry, he let me cry and just held me.
We have a 10 year relationship ... and I knew his Mamma for 5 years before that. His mom had myasthenia and had it from the time he was a teenager. It's not like he doesn't get serious illness ... he gets it all too well ... and from the family side of it ...

Somewhere there is a glitch and I'm not sure where ... we do know he's doing medically right by Don, we're just confused. The poor hospitalist thinks that there is a conflict between us ...and doens't realize that we simply asked him the questions because we were unsure of what was going on ... No, we will always love Dr. G ... but we also trust him enough to ask him questions, either directly, or ask the person who's going to talk to him next ...to tell him ..these are our concerns.

But somehow, it's making Don look like he's not being cooperative ... I think the breakdown is happening at the Respiratory Therapist level ... instead of taking the time to listen to Don and answer his questions and find out for him what the doctor means ... they just say "well, you can refuse treatment if you want" and then hook him back up to oxygen and don't mess with it, or leave him hooked up to the bipap for extra time ...

This should change in the long term care ...

Rough Day

Today is a rough day.

They haven't moved him yet to the Long Term Care facility.

They did get him an air mattress so that it protects his skin and joints. It took them about 30 minutes and he was in a chair the whole time. It completely wiped him out, and 3 hours later, he still had not recovered.

His hours on the Bipap have been changed to 9 pm to 8 am, solid then from noon till 5pm. So he'll be off of it from 8 am to noon, and 5 to 9.

So, he'll have 8 hours a day off, and during times that he can visit with people.

He was hurting so bad today. His right arm is hurting and there is some numbness. He keeps having it jerk, almost like you'd see in some parkinsons patients. It woke him up 2 times this afternoon when he hit the bedrail. He is loosing some control over it. The doctors are aware of it, and are watching it carefully. It is something they will address in the long term care facility.


Today was a tiring day, for both of us. I don't know why we both felt kind of discouraged and tired.

I left the hospital a little early and decided I wasn't ready to face home ..and ran away ... I went to an IHOP and then called my friend Teresa, the one who lost the baby girl a few weeks ago. I was going to ask her if she could come up and sit with me. I called her and told her I'd kind of ran away and was hiding from the world and she said "Oh, I'm up at IHOP talking with J & R" *blink*
Thanks God ... you knew just what I needed.

Faithful

I woke up today and had decided to go ahead and go to church. It's been quite a while since I was sick before all this happened with Don.

I got dressed in a black jumper dress, tourquoise blouse, and black shoes. I went to choose my jewelry and decided on some that meant something to me. To others, it would just be Peggikaye in her elephants again.

To me, it was not just because I like elephants, but, a while back I figured out what it was about elephants that facinated me so. It all came down to Dr. Suess.
I meant what I said
And I said what I meant....
An elephant's faithful
One hundred per cent!

Faithfulness. Today, I wore a tangible reminder of faithfulness. A necklace a friend gave me, a bracelet my husband gave me, an anklet I bought with a gift certificate someone else gave me. All elephants.

God's faithfulness to me ... and my friends faithfulness to me ... the faithfulness has been more than visible this last 2 weeks, but tangible.

Tonight, as I sat next to Don, while he slept on the Bipap, some questions still unanswered, not knowing what lies ahead ... I knew one thing was for sure. God was with us. God had been with us through the last 11 days or so ...and God would be with us.

It is strange ... to feel so worn out, so tired, so ... weary ... to have so many questions looming in the air ...

and yet, to feel so comforted, and so peaceful ...and to feel so confident at the same time.

I guess, the scripture that says that in our weakness, He is made strong ... is how this is lived out. Every moment, I must lean on God's strength, God's wisdom and God's faithfulness ...

My new counselor asked me at my second session when I'd felt safe in my life. Really safe ... it hasn't been often. There hasn't been a whole lot of security.

I told her about the dark times in my marriage and how the sanctuary in my church provided that safety for me. How Sanctuary, became more than a archetectual term, but lived out it's original meaning for me. It was my place of safety for a long time.

And now, this last 11 days, ironically ... I have felt that safety ... that sanctuary ... that I am safe in God's arms ... never closer to God as I have been in the last few days ... as tired, and weary and battle worn ...

I am sure of this one thing ... I know whom I have believed, and He is able to keep that which I've committed, unto Him, until that day.

What's more ... my husband, is one of those things I've committed ... and I'm sure he can keep my husband and the things that he has committed as well.

TALK About it Talk ABOUT it Talk about IT

First, the update. Every question posted in the previous post is still on the table. They are moving him to a long term care facility. We will see if we can get him off the external ventilation during the day, or if this will be a way of life, and if, he is willing to live a life this way if he cannot get off the machinery.

He will most likely have a brand new baseline in life. Oxygen full time, and most likely, walking again, isn't going to happen.

Questions are being shot at me right and left about what can the church do for me. What calls need to be made to Habitat to accomodate our house ...what do we need to do.

The answer is simple. Nothing.

While we were really not prepared for this to happen in reality, in practicality, we honestly did know it was going to happen. There is no step leading to our house. There is a ramp from the driveway to our door. The doorways are an inch wider than most ..and the bathtub has a bar. This house was built with the idea that one day, the post polio would become an issue for Don, and we did not want to have to modify the house at that time.

The decisions to be made about machines, and life sustaining are simply a matter of what amount of healing, restoration can we gain for his body. How much recovery can he get. The choices he's made, have long since been made, discussed, talked about till we were blue in the face. I could recite them on ambien. In the middle of chaos, I know exactly what his choices are ...and this weekend, I knew on the worst day, when he was crashing, and it was clear that things could go sour very fast, what choices might have to be made. We'd talked so often, and so thoroughly, there simply is no questions of 'what does he want?'

Our faith, is so solid, we feel the presence of God, strong ..and solid .. in the middle of this horrible storm, we know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that He is there ...and that we are in the palm of His hand.

Quite frankly, I'm not ready for my husband to leave my presence, but, I know that he will not be hurting if he does go. I will be heartbroken, I will be more sad than I can even imagine being. But, my faith, is probably on more solid ground than it's ever been. I feel God's presence as much as I ever have.

I've watched the families in the ICU waiting rooms ... as they've not known what their loved one would want. They are try to make life and death decisions for someone who isn't awake, and they have no idea what that person feels about extended care, extensive machinery ... or quality of life issues. They have no peace, they have only confusion ...and they feel totally disconnected from their loved one.

Even when Don was at his worst, I knew that because we'd talked about it so often, we were in this together.

I beg of you, talk to your families and friends ... how do you feel about your care when the bleak comes. Talk about every imaginable situation. What kind of situation is ventilation ok in, when is it not. Is it ok for pneumonia? Is it ok to see if they can find improvement for a few days, then they need to turn it off if there is none? What are your wishes, talk about them ... talk about the details. And make sure that you're prepared for a new way of life if something happens.

Don't let the worst catch you in a state of confusion. It doesn't help things.

I feel like I've been pushed through a key hole and pulled out backwards this week and the one thing I don't feel, is confused. It's a matter of waiting to see how the circumstances unfold, and knowing we're in God's hands.

It's not fun. It's harder than I could ever have guessed. But we talked about it. You should too. You can't imagine the peace of mind it brings.

We knew, we have always known

Post polio syndrome, scoliosis.

I've blogged somewhere in this blog.

Sometime, the post polio my husband has, and the scoliosis that resulted would be my husbands undoing.

The muscles would decide they are too tired. The twisting would cause the internal organs to just have to work too hard.

They told him when he was younger, he would never make it to 35. (they didn't even know what post polio was back then, yet, they knew it was coming, he was so severe!)

He passed 35 ... 37 ...40 ...and 42 ..and he just seemed to get healthier ..not worse.

As time went by and they addressed his different conditions ... it all seemed to work.

He hit 50 ...and he decided he did not like who he was as a person. He had few friends, and he was a hard man to live with. Bitterness was eating him alive. His health issues, was the least of his problems. He examined who he was ...and decided that what he knew about God, was really the key. He decided to put God first ... and instantly, his life changed. WE changed as a couple. WE changed as a family.

For the last year and a half ...we've enjoyed life more than I ever could have imagined. Life, has been good to us. God, has been good to us. We got our house, we have 2 great kids.

In my mind, I watched this amazing man walk and just knew that the doctor's had been wrong ... he was going to outlive us all. His determination to function and life a full life was amazing.

He was going to go back to school in the fall, finish his bachelor's degree. (Only 2 semesters, he was just 3 hours when I got sick, things change and technology changes in 15 years ...and well, now it's 2 semesters) He rarely walks with even the cane that he has.

Plans for a business, a ministry ... and to watch our sons grow up. Our youngest to be a chef ..and the oldest to be a doctor. His plans to help our youngest in his business adventure of owning a resteraunt ...and his plans of making a doctor son care for his medical needs.

And one day a cough won't stop ...and the next thing we know ...we're in the hospital. They can't find out what's wrong ...and he's degenerating. It's not pneumonia as first thought. I was upset ...we've been here before! I'm rather insistant! Go back 2 years ago! Look at his records! This has happened before ...only it hasn't.

The infection clears up ... the blood work is clear. The spudem culture shows body fluid ...and no reversable cause is found.

The worst possible diagnosis is given. End stage post polio.

The pulmonologist says that he's seen this happen ...some times you see it coming a mile away, and sometimes they are mowing the lawn one day, and the next day their body simply says "I'm done"

From all he knows about Don's functioning and who Don is.... Don is the latter. Yea, We've always known that would be the case.

I just thought .. he'd make it to 75 ... I really had talked myself into believing it would never happen. He'd outlive me.

So now, we have choices to make that no one should ever have to make.

We don't know where things stand.

Will he recover enough to make it for a while longer, and then in a few months this happen again? Will he make it enough to just have the bipap at night? Will he recover enough to come home with the bipap and be able to live full time on the bipap ...and is he willing to live on the bipap ...or would he rather go see his Savior?

He's fully aware today, of what's going on and what decisions we're facing. We have talked about this day for 20 years. We are standing as a couple, as one. We are standing together ... in prayer ..supported by our church family.

We don't know what tomorrow holds .. we don't know what decisions will be made. We don't know what the next hour holds. We simply don't know. We just have always known.

For the Love of My Life

For the Love of My Life.

Please honey, please, get better. It's not time.
The day will come when it's the polio, but for right now, it's got to be something reversible ... we have too much love still .. too much fun and too much life to experience together in front of us. Too many plans left unlived.

Ya gotta fight this babe.

If You Leave Me Now - P. Cetera

If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
No baby please don't go
If you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me
No baby please don't go
A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away
We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way
When tomorrow comes we'll both regret
Things we said today

Cause I need you more than you'll ever know

Visual DNA

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

I was a bit surprised where I stood in the general public (who took this quiz anyway)
The percentage of people who are like me in the different area's:
In Art:5%
In Music: 6%
My Treat: 15%
My Landscape: 11%
My Freedom: 5%
My Love: 19%
My Gross:9%
My Like to do: 4%
My Exciting Free time: 2%
My Holiday: 6%
My Vice: 5%
My Bedroom: 4%
My Drink: 8%

WELL ... no one could accuse me of running with the crowd! I wonder, am I in the top percentile or the bottom? *blink*

What are you afraid of?

I'm seeing a new therapist. She, like my psychiatrist, can read me. She's not going to let me get away with much either.

My former therapist would ask me "what are you afraid of if you really feel?"

I'd give her some surface answers and we'd talk about them.

I started to answer and she said "Stop. Think. What will happen if you really FEEL?"

I froze. She knew me. She's seen me 2 times, at that point, she'd seen me for exactly 70 minutes of my life ...and she was already past my masks.

So, I had to reach past my own mask to where I'd not dared to go before.

What am I afraid of if I really feel the pain?

Permanence.

If I feel it. It's real. It's forever. It really happened. The person is really dead. The dreadful event really happened. My body really failed. It's real. I can't pretend that it's not.

It's permanent. It's real. If I really feel it. It's real.

Then she asked me when the last time that I felt safe was. Really safe.

Wow. Loaded question.

Tagged

My good friend Deneice tagged me.

Moof, you're safe, I won't tag you, you're too busy.

6 things that are unusual about me.

1. I think in sign language.
I learned sign language as a teenager. I was exposed to it as a toddler. My father taught at California School for the Deaf in the Bay Area when I was born, and until I was in early elementary age. I interpreted for a number of years. (never certified, don't ask, it's a sad tale of poor self esteem and stubbornness ...one of those "could have would have should have" stories...)I signed so often, that I now think in sign.

2. I collect elephants and pigs.
The elephants started when I was a 13 year old. The pigs started after the show CSI started. You don't want to know the whole violent story behind it. *grin*

3. My favorite job of all times was market research. I was one of those annoying people in the mall with a clipboard. You cannot believe what they paid me in 1985 compared to the minimum wage!

4. I rarely watch movies. I don't know why. I don't. Sigh

5. I can't stand being in unstructured groups. You'll find me against a wall, and as hidden as possible. Even if I know everyone in the room and have known them for years.

6. I do not like attention. I love to have fun, and I like to laugh. But I am not someone who likes to draw attention to myself in person.

I'm supposed to tag 6 people ...

Wanda, Alison, Biscotti Brain, Cathy, Todd, Beth

Woodpeckers

Saturday mornings. Sacred time for my parents to sleep in. Sunday's we had to get up early for church. Since my parents helped to start the church, and my step dad was one of the what would be known in most churches as a 'deacon' we had to be one of the first ones there to set up. First to arrive, last to leave. During the week, my Step Dad was a bus driver for a school district just outside our town, but within our school district. So, he had to get up very early and go into the bus barn, get a bus and drive the 40 minutes on the mountain roads to be at his first stop on time. He was usually out of the house by 4:30 am.

So, Saturdays ... his sacred sleep time.

Early Saturday mornings, in the 1970's for children, however, was cartoon time! HR Puff n Stuff, The Cosby Show, Sigmund the Sea Monster, Scooby Doo, Spider Man, you name it, from the time the sun came up till noon ... it was kid time in front of the TV! We knew when cartoon time was over, chore time would start ... before time for friends ... but the mornings ... were ours. Fun and fantasy.

Every saturday morning, my sister and I would sit in front of the TV. We'd get our bowls of cereal and get ready to watch our favorite shows. Before too long, outside we'd hear this
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"

Within 5 minutes, my Step dad would come stomping down the hallway. Grumbling.
"that stupid woodpecker! Can't it let a grown man sleep? My only day to sleep in! Saturdays are SACRED, does the bird not KNOW that?"


"Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap" "Oh, you bird! I'm going to do away with you one day!!" He'd grumble and he'd plop down in his rocking chair. Green and blue, a tapestry type feel to the chair. His sparking eyes, and laughter in his voice belied the words he was using. The smile on his face, telling my sister and I, "good morning"


I would jump up, and go into the kitchen to get him a bowl of cereal. Wake him up with breakfast and there would be no way he'd fall back asleep! My sister would let him pick the cartoon next up. Anything to keep this 'grumbling giant' in our cartoon fest.

When he'd finish his cereal, he'd put the bowl on the table and I'd wait for the spoon to drop in the bowl. Within minutes, it never failed, that I'd find my way onto his lap. The safest place in my world to be. Nothing could harm me there, nothing could get to me. Life, was perfect in my Father's lap. The kids at school during the week who wanted to bully me ...were gone. Even my sister's teasing, no longer mattered, because I was in the arms of the man who told me that I mattered and that I would always be his darling. We would sit and watch those cartoons, every saturday morning ... week in and week out. Dad would continue to pretend to grumble about the awful woodpecker. I'd take my finger and poke him in the belly "peck peck peck" I'd say and grin and giggle. We'd both laugh as he was well aware that I knew that he loved being woke up by that "awful bird"

His friends at church, and work and in the neighborhood offered him MANY solutions to rid us of the pest. From shooting the bird, to poison to trapping ...and in the 8 years we lived there, he refused all traps. The "awful bird" had it's purpose. It had to intterupt his sacred sleep time. It had to give him his saturday mornings with his girls. That, to him, was far more sacred than any sleeping in could ever be.

You all know I love to post stories about what a wonderful man my Step dad was. It's not uncommon, especially in February or approaching Father's day ... so it's not unusal. But, the reason for this posting isn't just a casual mention of my Dad. It's not about the picture going up, and the learning to grieve ...although, I'm sure God is tying it all in ... I've no doubt that he is.
Do you remember, a few weeks ago, about easter time ..when I posted on Paradigm Shifting? As I talked about the changes I'd gone through with getting my house and the depression and adjustment problems I'd had when getting my house. The feelings of having stolen the house and God having to show me ... I'd not stolen this house, but earned it. I did in fact earn this house. I did in fact, earn the book. I did in fact, earn the life that God is giving me. It is a good thing to be in a good place!

So, I've been doing much better ... and daily, things are changing, and growing and I'm setting in more.

This week, I think, there was, excuse the pun, the final nail in the foundation of my house. I was sitting on my couch and looking out the window. It was the day after I'd pulled out the picture of Daddy. I was looking really over at the desk and the window and thinking how much Daddy would have liked this big old tree in my yard.

As I looked. I saw something

A woodpecker! On my tree! I didn't even know oklahoma had woodpeckers! AT all! In the 25 years that I've lived here ... I've never seen one! Or heard one!
It's not the same kind, but it's brightly colored like ours back home. Not crested on the head, a little smaller ... but it still goes "tap, tap, tap, tap," there will be no one, gettin rid of my woodpecker!

As I looked out the window, I sat on the couch, and I saw the woodpecker outside the window by the picture where my Dad is finally in a place of honor ..and I knew.

I am finally home. This IS MY HOME. My Dad, My daughter, Jessica Dawn have joined us as part of the family in memorium. And now, to seal the deal ... a woodpecker is coming to seal the deal.

Peck away sweet Woodpecker. Tap tap tap tap ... you noises are safe with me. Sing your song for my Daddy and me. We love to hear you! Your song means family time for us.

Learning more about grieving

A couple of months ago, my psychiatrist noted that I tend to throw important things away. The statement shocked me. But, he was right.

The comment kind of went through me ...why do I do that?
I don't have pictures up, I don't have reminders of my past ... I don't have memories hanging around ... I don't have momento's ... I don't have my trophies ... I don't have the important things that remind me of my successes or failures ... I don't keep the important things in life.

So .. he started the thought process going back then.

Then the issues with grieving came up when Kylie passed away.

So, I'm trying to really deal with grief, in a real way.

My step dad died in 1979. I've posted here many many times about him, so any regular reader of this blog knows how much I've loved him, how much he meant to me. How deeply his death impacted me. But, no picture of him existed in my house. Burried deep in a box, I finally found a picture of him. I got it out, and brushed it off ..and put it in a little frame and put it on the computer desk. Right next to Jessica's bank.

Monday Evening, Benjamin walked up to me. "Mom, who is this?" As he handed me the picture. My heart sank. My beloved Daddy ... this man who's meant more to me than anyone ... my kids know my step dad .. they know the stories ...they know how much I loved him ...but they'd never seen his picture!! How could I have done that to them ..to him?

I've fixed that now.

Daddy is on the desk, smiling at me while I type. His sparkling eyes and his great big smile reminding me just how much he loved me. Unconditional ... and forever.(when we get a scanner up, I'll scan the picture in, this is a picture of the picture)

Mother's Day

Well, anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows how much I despise the color purple. As well as knowing how much my mother loves the color purple.

Well, for Mother's Day, I came up with THE plan ... I wore a solid purple suit to church today. Just for her.

As she came into the gym where we were having the breakfast, she saw me and said "Is this for me?" and I said yes. Her eyes teared up and I knew I'd made the right choice. Ironically enough, THIS year, they chose to take pictures of all the mother's and their children ... including adult mom's and daughters! So she will have a keepsake of my gift to her!

She called me this afternoon to say thank you, that it was really better than anything that I could have bought her.

So, for me, for Mother's Day, I have my Swing that was bought for me a couple of months ago, and my husband is grilling steaks. He also bought me some Twizzler's. :)

For myself, I decided to take a picture of Jessica Dawn's bank and stocking to post it here. I've been researching a bit of what a 20 week pregnancy was developmentally, where she was. So, some day this week, I will post where she was when she went to be with Jesus. So, for my gift to me, I'm getting to know Jessica a little more.

The difference is the size of their Toys

The newest edition of the Eagler's household is my husband's 'lawnmower'.

Twitch standing guard.


Checking out the engine (again ...from a different angle ya know?)


Gotta read the horsepower up close! (it might have changed in the rain!)


Now really, can you mow with your foot in there?, is that safe?


Um, can you mow the lawn from inside the porch railing?

Take note of Twitch's ears, he is SO not happy about Don being on HIS tractor!!!

These were the pictures that were emailed to us before we bought it. We bought it from a young man who'd bought it at the end of 2004, used it for the summer of 2005, 2006, and then a couple of weeks ago, went out and bought a zero radius turn tractor. His wife, is fit to be tied. He had to unload this one, and fast .. at a loss if necessary so she didn't have to look at 2 perfectly good tractors ... Which, is what enabled Mr. Eagler to get his toy ..er Tractor ...








Note ... the most important feature

The cup holder ...for the coffee.

Grief

I'm not sure I understand the grieving process. The minds insistance on dealing with issues ...even if you, as the owner of the experience choose to not deal with a situation that causes pain. You can put it aside for a time, sometimes a long period of time ..but eventually it will surface. Sometimes you can see the trigger that causes it, other times not.

It is quite normal for men and women to not deal with issues of abuses in childhood to start to deal with them in their mid to late thirties and into the the forties.

An anniversary of a death, or a friend becoming ill with an illness that took the life of a loved one.

For me, dealing with my step father's suicide ... it was having a few friends who were suicidal ...all coinciding with the 25th anniversary of his death. That forced me to actually look at how his death had not only effected me but what meaning was I going to let it bring to life.

I have had a few situations that were grief causing situations. I did not find the people around me very understanding of the pain I was going through. "He was 'just' your step dad!" I can't even count the number of times I heard that comment. (um, he married my mom when I was 13 months old, sorry, he was my Daddy)

The dismissal of my pain, soon caused me to stuff the pain.

When I went through my divorce ...that one I learned to stuff fast "you're young, you'll marry again!"
Wow! I heard that comment the WEEK of my ex asking me for a divorce ...
With in a week of the divorce being granted ... life was expected to go on ... Happy shall we be! "Speak only good words over your life or you'll give the devil a foothold to destroy your life!"
Grief? Not allowed ... only allowed to speak good!
There was no one that I could tell of the feelings of loss, betrayal, fear ... and just plain being ripped in two.

Then I married again. I got pregnant ... I felt the baby move a little early, but not too much, about 16 weeks. I went in for my prenatal appointment. It was time for an ultrasound. They'd told me that if the baby was in the right position, and it was clear enough, they might be able to tell me what the baby was. As I lay there, listening to the heart beat, they said the heart beat was 162 bpm ...and they did the ultrasound ...all I could see was the spine and the head and some fingers. The technition called the doctor in so I could be told what the sex of the baby was, because she (tech) was pretty sure she could tell. The doctor said that he would bet it was a girl. He said, that ultrasounds weren't perfect. So don't go pink crazy yet. Wait till we do a later ultrasound.

I didn't ... I knew in my heart that this was a little girl. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had answered my prayers.

I ran home from the doctor's and told Don. We immediately came up with a name

Jessica Dawn Eagler.

She was due the end of the year ... a New Years Baby ...we talked about how fun it would be to have the first baby of the year and how much we did NOT want a Christmas baby.

Jessica was after his grandmother Jesse and a friend of mine, Jessica, who'd died when she was 14.

I was just starting to wear maternity clothing and was having so much fun. I was waitressing and so enjoyed telling my customers that it was a girl named Jessica Dawn, after my friend, her great Grandmother and her Daddy Don.

Then, one night, I was waitressing in August, I felt sick. Just sick. I didn't hurt, I was just sick. I was a bit dizzy and I couldn't handle the heat of the resteraunt. I almost passed out a couple of times.

I told my boss I had to go home at 1 in the morning ...and I started to go home. Instead, I drove to the ER. We had no phone at home, so I couldn't call my husband. It didn't occur to me to call anyone else, a friend, a family member. I didn't want to make a fuss.

In the ER ... the doctor asked me if I was having pain .. I said no. He looked at me funny, like he didn't believe me. They did some lab work and gave me a pelvic exam. He asked again about pain as they hooked me up to a monitor for the baby. There was no heartbeat. I started to cry. I told him again there was no pain. He just didn't believe me. I really honestly don't remember if there was no pain, or if I wouldn't accept that there was no pain. I kept telling him I was sick to my stomach, there was no pain.

By 6 in the morning, August 19, 1988, I'd lost Jessica Dawn Eagler.
She'd died.
The medical records reflected that it was a 19.5 week pregnancy. A miscarriage.
But, by my count from my due date, I was past 20 weeks and almost 21 weeks. A stillbirth.


My sister "miscarried" at the same point in a pregnacy several years later, and was given the choice of picking 20 weeks or 19 weeks. With 20 weeks, by law, you're required to have the funeral. 19 weeks, it's a miscarried. The mom is 'spared' the stress of the funeral. My sister, much to my dismay, chose the 19 weeks.

I was not given the choice. They made the decision for me. I'd have taken the 20. I needed the finalization of saying goodbye. Although, right then or there, I'm not sure what my decision would have been.

I think it was the few days after as people were acting like we'd lost our newspaper that I'd wished we'd had the funeral. For people to realize, we'd lost a BABY. We lost a part of our family.

We bought a little silver bear from an engravement shop that says "Jessica Dawn
8-19-88 We love you" and we thought ...we would always keep her center of our thoughts. Christmas time, my mom and Don's mom bought a little ornament with her name engraved on it. Don and I bought her a stocking that we put up every year.

When Samuel was about 6, he asked what the stocking was for. We explained that he had a sister in heaven. We asked him to not tell his brother, but to let his brother figure out the stocking or the bank, like he did ..and ask in his own time. Being a little boy, he couldn't wait to tell his little brother about his sister in heaven. So, a few weeks later Benjamin shocked me as he asked "When do I get to see my sister Jessica?"

Over the years, Benjamin has occassionally asked questions out of the blue like that. He talks about Jessica as if he knows her. To them, it's not a question that she is a part of our family. Don, and I, do not talk about her. The loss, is too painful. Her bank sits on our computer desk, and occassionally we both look at it, and I can still see the pain in his eyes when the stocking is hung. When Benjamin says something about her, I feel like I've been jabbed.

When Kylie died last week ... Benjamin's comment was "Jessica is there to show her around"

Woah.

For the last few days, I've been staring at Jessica's bank. As we had a senior graduation banquet this weekend at church, the realization that she would have been a Senior in High School that would have been her in one of those beautiful dresses ...

So, why Kylie's death has forced these memories, I'm not sure. My psychiatrist wasn't surprised at all. His response was "maybe now you can get to know your daughter as well as Benjamin knows his sister"

Daughter.

wow. My daughter. I've never dared to call her that. It makes my stomach turn flip flops and it hurts my heart ... she's the baby we lost.

My Daughter, Jessica Dawn ... I wonder what you would look like at 18? I've always pictured you with dark curly hair like your daddy ... blue eyes like mine ... and more than likely ornery like me. What are you like in heaven? Are you a baby? Are you 18? Are you taking care of Kylie for Teresa like I'd like you to? What does time do with babies who are stillborn? My Daughter, Jessica Dawn.

Advertising and Blogs

I know that many blogs are simply advertisments. I know that many people are dead set against using their blogs as advertisments. I know that many people fall somewhere in between.

Recently, I added an ad to mine that said I could earn money if I put that ad on my blog. So far, nada ... I'm not sure what it's doing ...but ... no one has complained about it ..so .. oh well.

But, right now, I'm going to put a blatant ad on my blog. Why? Because it's for a business that I think needs some advertisement and one that I think has a very good product.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm not exactly a person who goes for alternative medicine. You have to really really convince me of something before I will believe it. This site, is an alternative medicine, sort of, site. It's actually an Herbalists site.

Now, the person who runs it is not your run of the mill herbalist. She has her RN, and she knows what it's like to hurt. She does not throw traditional medicine out the window, she has her own MD and she believes in working with the person's belief's.

She produces a quality product. She started out many years ago ... learning a little here and and there, by that, I don't mean hit and miss, I mean ... she studied ... and didn't just fly off the handle and decided that she knew it all at once.

She really took the time to learn it before she applied it.

She didn't make something until she knew what she was making and how it could help. She started out, if I remember right by getting a massage therapy liscence (although, much to my chagrin, she doesn't do massages anymore, sigh) And month by month, week by week and day by day has educated herself ... through many different resources and experts as to what herb does what.

Her products, are top notch. I have come to rely heavily on her healing salve.

I get sores in my nose, in my mouth and on the edges of my mouth from the lupus, and I've tried everything the rheumatologist has recomended ...and ya know, the Healing Salve is the only thing that helps. Instant pain relief when I put it on the nose or lips sores! When you're talking a lupus sore ...that, is saying something.
This is what her website says about the Healing Salve"
"Ingredients are known to speed healing and repair damage of the skin, due to surgery, insect bites, cuts & scrapes, reduces pain, inflammation, decreases chance of infection and may reduce scarring.
Has effectively been used on diaper rash, surgical incisions, yeast infections, for dried and cracking skin conditions"

My she has a treatment for acne ..although, I'm not sure what it's called, it's on the website.

She has the MOST incredible bath salts ... of every imaginable kind!!
She has mom and baby products, I will have to admit ... with my youngest being 15 ... I've not looked much at those :)

Her lip balm ... would give anything you can buy in the store a run for it's money ... including my no longer favorite ... Carmex! My sons like it better than Blistex, I can't compare it to Blistex since I'm highly allergic to Blistex. I can say I like hers better than Carmex.

Now ... if I sound over the top ... and I probably do ... you have to understand ...I was propbably the hardest person for her to convince. I probably should have been the easiest ... after all ... I am her sister in law. But ... I've been a hard and fast anti alternative medicine person ..and I was not an easy sell ... but I can promise you, her products are absolutely incredible.

They smell absolutely fantabulous ...

As someone who is very skeptical ... I am also very satisfied.

My favorite would have to be
Lip balm
Healing salve (necessary!)
Romance Lotion. *smells heavenly!!!)

Please please, go visit Healingherbals.org
or email HealingHerbals2001@aol.com
and tell Pam that Peggikaye sent ya ...
she will treat ya right. I promise!!!

Springtime

A year ago, the address I'm writing from didn't even exist.

The lot was here, but it was an empty corner lot. The street running to the side of our house was the official street address of our lot. Actually, several lots. Then, we got the lots and the city re zoned it so that the house would face Cedar instead of Houston ... and gave the whole several lots one address ... and a new address that never existed before in the city's history was born.

Fedex just dropped off a box of medicine to my house. I was staring out the window contemplating a brand new address that had never existed and he just walked up to the door ... and rang the bell.

Our spring weather isn't really being nice ... it's been kind of painful ... my muscles and joints just are not responding well to the changes and the constant air pressure change. I hurt everywhere and I can't seem to make it stop.

This week, I wrote an article for a youth ministry forum, Youth Ministry Exchange. It is an important, but difficult subject. Written to youth pastors on how to recognise if one of their youth members has been raped. I shared the article with my psychiatrist who asked me, what I hope was a rhetorical question (meaning, I hope he wasn't asking me specificially) question of "How can we better 'equip the saints' to reach past our social etiquette?"

Given how firmly I denied everything for as long as I did, I don't have the answer.

On the lighter side, my son got a digital camera this week. He's going camera crazy. He needs to practice his expression when taking his own picture ... a bit too much concentration. :)

However, I am glad because I finally got a picture of my kitchen table ... I have been wanting to get it. It's a beautiful table and it's unusual. Everyone comments on it when they see it ... and I'm absolutely sure there is some history behind it somewhere. It's maple and it is not veneer. That is thick maple, heavy ... beautiful. We have the matching buffet to it too. My parents bought it at an antique shop in 1965 or 1966.



Keep Teresa and her family in your prayers, she's going to need it for quite some time to come.