Call to Action

It is midnight, I am peacefully sleeping.  This is quite unusual because for the last three weeks,  midnight has found  me attempting to cough up an extra lung that my body apparently thinks I have hiding somewhere.  The peace is extinguished by a slamming door.

I open one eye and standing next to my bed is this large almost man, who just two years ago was my small son.  He looks like he is in pain, and as I open both eyes, I realize if he is in my room, waking me up and asking for help, then he most certainly is in pain.   Call to action, mom....wake up, someone is sick and there is no more time for rest.

Ordinarily, he attempts, much like his toddler self did, to do everything quite by himself....no help from mom.  God forbid, really who needs THAT woman!!! 

Yet, he is here in front of me, his face and body twisted into contortions that make him at times look  almost unrecognizable and then just as quickly look like that little toddler.  My heart breaks for him, but I dare not tell him so or he may storm out.  I gather awakening wits and begin questioning him with my arsenal of pharmacy/mom questions, which I hope will help make him feel comfortable and in good hands.  He balks, he complains.  "Why do I always have to do this? Why do I have to answer questions?  I am in pain!"

Hmmmmm, I think (but do not utter a word aloud), usually answering questions helps the other person understand what IS GOING ON!!!  Silly Mom, for wanting to try to understand anything about the the pain, what could I have been thinking???

Regardless,I continue, "how much did you drink today?"

Now I have two sets of raised MALE eyebrows, my husband and my son.

I justify, "look guys, there were two ice hockey games and two hours of stacking wood in the backyard. Were there any fluids replenished?"

I have captured my husbands curiosity but my dear sweet son is convinced I am from outerspace....and well son, the more you mature into a man, the more I think you are from Mars : )

Long story short: two episodes of hugging the porcelain bowl, pain that seemed to radiate from the right side, a trip to ER with two CT scans to rule out appendicitis and the diagnosis was in summary all related to lack of fluids.   Nausea meds via a large bag of IV normal saline and he comes home looking much like his regular self.  He asked for breakfast and I knew we were back in healthy action.

Silly mom, asking about drinking water, insisting water bottles be carried around, only to have them ditched in the garage on the way out of the house.  Silly mom,  buying water filters to take out the chlorine and lead to keep heart and kidneys strong.  Silly, silly mom.  How right could that silly mom be?

Years ago, I would have stood on my head to prove that I was in fact right from the very beginning.  Now though, the fact that the CT Scan found nothing at all, including appendicitis was my greatest gift and gave me a happiness that no amount of "proving myself the superior in knowledge" ever would, even to a teenager, hahaha!

As we walk the road of mom and teenage boy, I will make mistakes and so will he, we are after all only human.  Surviving the journey will require a call to action type of love...always on, always ready and shared as needed.  

I love you, Tim!!  (ahhh, the ultimate embarrassment!)

Miracles and Moms

Yesterday, December 8th, was a very important day in the Catholic Church. We celebrate Mary being conceived, and placed in her mother's womb.  For all mother's and daughters it is a thoughtful day to remember how we begin, together.   Mary's last words in the Bible are "do as He says" (meaning Jesus).  He asks us to pray when we are confused, lost and alone, forsaken and abandoned, abused.  Mary had many times in her life when she was lost to what God's great plan would be and she prayed while contemplating these events in her heart. I wish to follow her example and hope that my children will do the same, while our lives may have challenging moments, none are as heartbreaking as hers.

 
Many of you are aware that my mom had elective orthopedic surgery in mid September.  She woke up on the Saturday that she was to be discharged and tried to muddle through the morning while multiple embolisms pushed  their way through her body.  She shook and collapsed as they landed in her lungs, setting up camp and owning the space where oxygen needed to be instead.  Her heart was strained from the events and before we knew what was happening we were unpacking her things in a sterile cardiac care room.  She had tubes everywhere and looked like a child laying on her bed.  My mom had both knees replaced and I wondered how she was ever going to rehab now?

We prayed, prayed, prayed that she would not have a stroke AND our prayer was answered.  We know that many of you prayed with us and we are so grateful!

The next few days surgeons, internists, and cardiologists all remarked the same thought: they had never seen an embolism as large as hers. They shook their heads, they cast their eyes down.  We realized that this embolism was not going away anytime soon.

We prayed, prayed, prayed that somehow it would go away, and we asked for your same prayers and you prayed with us and we are so thankful!

The next few weeks we searched for someone who had worked with patients with large embolisms, we had her appointment set, they ran tests, and we waited for our next date together which was yesterday, December 8th, 2011.

We kept praying, we kept asking for prayers.  You prayed with us and we are so appreciative.

Yesterday morning, my mom's doctor had the joy of turning to his patient and declaring that the largest clot WAS GONE!, nowhere to be found.  Basically, he gave her the only Christmas present she had wanted, her heath.  There was no need to discuss open heart and lung surgery, she could come off the oxygen slowly but surely. She was a medical miracle and we are in awe.

AND that is  why we pray! and why we are so thankful to so many of you who carried our prayers for us when we were too drained to do it ourselves.  We are so humbled that so many of you were willing to support us on this journey.  We will never know how to repay your kindness, your thoughtfulness, your generosity.   God Bless all of you this December with your Advent and Christmas traditions and your Hanukkah celebrations.

For my naysayers....my mom and I know all prayer isn't answered as we would want, see what we mean here

But we do trust that God has an Ultimate Plan.

Nothing is more beautiful than a mother's love; for they love you as you are, Perfectly Human.

Battling our way through life....as a family

Autumn brought many battles into my life and the lives of the people I love. 

Hurricane Irene, battled for my families energy and resources as it shortened  our family vacation week, left our home with out power, and  created the look of battlegrounds instead of tidy communities in parts of the Northeast.  We lived through the community repair that took place, thankful that very little damage occurred to our home and property.   We ended the day always in awe of what might have happened or what we witnessed each day.  We battled down trees and downed power lines trying to make some sense of it all.

Battle Preparations as Irene advances

Saturday, September 17th just a few short weeks later, the  biggest battle was occurring inside of my otherwise healthy mother.  She was diagnosed with post surgical embolisms and we almost lost her that morning. I was nine hours away, it might as well have been nine light years, I felt so far.  However,her healthy body was ready for the war despite the ominous presence of the foes, one of which was the largest embolism any of the doctors in her large hospital had ever clinically witnessed. Her heart and lungs became soldiers, pumping on in a victory like cadence allowing her knees to recuperate and heal despite her new limitations.

The third battle was a Freak October Snowstorm, less than eight weeks after Irene, which dumped 12 inches of the wettest snow onto trees already damaged from Irene.  As darkness descended that night, the snow brought little happiness to four children who otherwise live for wintertime.  We listened to the "CRACK" of tree tops breaking off when the weight of the snow became too much.  Then waited for the "BOOM" as it landed onto the snowy ground below.  We uttered a prayer each time we heard one of those booms, thankful that the landing was the yard and not our roof.  Our oldest daughter had received the Sacrament of Confirmation that same afternoon.  She had chose Saint Perpetua, a good choice for her as she is a perpetually positive person.  She found herself giving into negative thoughts and fears during the night and I believe that Saint Perpetua was present with her to calm her overworked nerves.

http://www.loyolapress.com/saint-perpetua-and-saint-felicity.htm

When we awoke in the morning, we were relieved to find everything, once again, still for the most part intact.  We marched out of the house onto the White Battleground and again began our fight back to normalcy in our home and community.

The fourth battle was at a four way stop in a small town.  My father in law was at that intersection, on his way to repair a faulty window at their church.  The foe was a car who decided not to follow the rules of engagement and plowed into the intersection without stopping, maybe without even slowing down.  The battleground was littered with splintered and broken cars, windows and so much of my father in laws blood that the firefighters had to come in with hoses to wash it away.  My father in law is a warrior, stronger than his car.  He is sitting next to my mother in law, drinking his morning coffee today while his destroyed and broken very large truck is laying in a heap in the junk yard.

My own mother and my father in law, are part of the generation born at the beginning and after the end of WWII.  They have such strength, such resilience, such courage.  Is it something the era poured into their veins and pumped into their beliefs?  Whatever it is, it brings to mind the story, Unbroken

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unbroken-laura-hillenbrand/1100045446?ean=9781400064168&itm=1&usri=unbroken+a+world+war+ii+story

In that story, despite the negative surroundings, despite the ominous Bird person, despite the circumstances, the foe did not win.  He may have had the advantage at times but in the end, the hero soldiers on choosing to pick up "the one piece of positive" and focus completely on that. 

Whatever it is, they taught it to us: when we were young and receptive, when were teens and rebellious and when we were young adults and seeking advice.  They are cultivating another generation of family with courage and conviction, while still fighting battles of their own.  I love them for that.

When my children see me stand tall in the storms, I am perfect to them.  When I do fall apart in the storm, I remind them that even mom is human.  I have much to teach and still more to learn. 

Sentimental Attachments

Last August, I decided to start a blog that was to be in support of Not Being Perfect.  My purpose was to create a space for friends and family to come and ponder my thoughts, reflect on my riddles and laugh at my humanity.  Well, then, September came!  Dumping on me a demanding schedule that rarely allowed for a full night of sleep, let alone, time to coherently write.  So instead, I would jot down ideas, various thoughts  that came to me while life was speeding by at a gazillion miles an hour.  In a notebook with a PEN.  Carried with me everywhere, the notebook became my sponge, sometimes soaking up drops of thoughts and other times absorbing abstracts.   I wrote on every blue line and filled every white space.  A year in the North East bumping from each activity, appointment, and sidetracking event that came along, said notebook became tattered and torn.  Frayed at the edges, I realized I was not signing on to the Blog because I was not willing to part with the words in that notebook.  I don't know if I ever will.   So, now that I my notebook is full and I can not add any more pages to it, here I am; back to blogging.  Let's suffice to say that hey, I am Not Perfect, Only Human.