Happy Mother's Day

In the spirit of Mother's Day, I wanted you to hear from my children.

To hear from Brooklyn, click here.

 To hear from Savannah, click here.

Happy Mother's Day!

The End of a Chapter.

 Back when I decided to start grad school, it wasn't much of a decision. 

I mentioned to my mom that I always wanted to get my Master's.

She asked, "Well, why don't you?"

I replied that I'd have to hurry up and take my GRE to apply.  

She told me to hurry then.

I got a decent score, got accepted, and went to grad school.

 

And being the nerd that I am, I loved it.

I definitely had no idea what a wild ride the next two years would be.

But nonetheless, I pressed on.

 There were a few times that I wasn't sure I would finish.

In fact, I cried on a poor UVA med student who tried to calm me down about a hospitalization, explaining to him that I had a thesis to be working on and I needed someone to make my baby well so that I could finish school already.  Aaron, if you are reading this, I'm sorry about the meltdown, I hope you found a better attending to study under, and I finished!

On Friday, May 11, I walked across the stage at Virginia Tech and shook President Steger's hand and had my Master's Degree conferred.

 

It was a happy day.

 

It was nice to know that despite the challenges of being a mom, an employee, and a nurse/therapist/doctor/aide/etc... I got to do something for myself.  I got to accomplish something.

 And apparently my family spent the long ceremony taking bets on how long it would be before they were watching me get my PhD.  (Its at least a few years away.)

Now I am a Hokie Alumni for life. 

 

Which does have some benefits with regards to football tickets.

 

I know you all really want to see pictures of the First Lady, but I skipped out on that ceremony.

I'm not really a fan.

And the snipers on the tops of all of the buildings were a little intimidating.

The girls attended the ceremony.  I hope that they will have a vague memory of it one day, and that they realize that if Mommy could do it, they can too. 

Education is a powerful tool.

Brooklyn gave me a thumbs up.

And Savannah pointed out that she is graduating preschool this year too, and she needs at least as many presents as I got.  Duh. 

It is hard for me to believe that the last time I graduated college, I was about 5 months pregnant with that little stinker... and now she is entirely too grown up.

The Hokie Chapter is over.

But the Hokie Nation will live forever in my heart.

Amino Acids and Other Things I Wish I Paid Attention To In School.

 Does anyone know what amino acids are?  Anyone?  Hmmm?  Yeah, me neither.  But I got a big education on those microscopic things lately.  Apparently there are approximately 20 identifiable amino acids in your body, and they are the building blocks for protein, etc.  And they are supposed to stay within certain levels, or else they can build up and become toxic.  Apparently, Brooklyn has a few that are elevated, but not to the toxic level right now.  Which means somewhere, things aren't functioning like they should be.  In some people, certain elevated amino acid levels can indicate a metabolic disorder.  However, if you have a complicated kid, her amino acids won't be elevated in the typical manner that indicates a metabolic disorder.  So you will get a phone call that goes something like, "Your child has abnormal levels of amino acids in her blood.  However, they do not go with any specific identifiable rare disorder.  She could have something that hasn't yet been identified.  Or maybe not.  So the results are nonspecific.  So we will proceed as we have been so far.  Try not to worry about it." 

So you will go on about your life knowing that you have one more piece of the puzzle.  And knowing that things don't always go as planned.  And to be aware that, "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."  That life?  A one piece at a time puzzle putting together life... without knowing what kind of puzzle you are creating.  Just knowing that its beautiful, that the experience is hard but wonderful, and that there are lots of laughs, hugs, and smiles along the way.  And that you won't ever give up... and you wouldn't trade even the hardest days in the world for anything.

Western Round-Up Day!

My cute cowgirl had a great time at Western Round-Up Day at school... milking a cow, riding a pony, swinging a lasso, and greeting everyone with "Howdy, Partner!"  Love it!!!! 

Not Me Monday

My oldest child did not inform me that she pooped, there was no toilet paper, so she used the hand towel.  She did not then follow that statement up with, "But its okay because I hung it back up!"  Not me!

The same child does not insist on blocking all doorways in our house and making anyone that wants to go through say the password.  That password is not "Daddy's big tummy."  Bahaha.  Not me! 

Confessions of an Insomniac.

There are days that I feel disconnected from the life that I used to live.  Which is somewhat understandable, after all, because so much has changed.  There are moments in life that once you live through them, they change who you are.  In some ways, that is a good thing.  Growing, changing, learning... those are all good things.  But as human beings, we don't like change.  We try to avoid it.  It scares us.  And so we learn to think of changes as bad things. 

Sometimes I wonder if I've changed for the good or the bad.  

There are things that I think are good.  I am stronger than I've ever been.  I have done so much more than I ever imagined possible.  I've seen God give me strength when I thought I'd never be able to go on.  I've met wonderful people who have taught me so much about life.  I have a new perspective.  I'm a fighter.

There are other changes that I consider not-so-good.  I am often an insomniac.  I've experienced panic attacks.  I've had to let go of several friendships.  I often feel cynical, because sometimes being in constant survival mode makes you want to strangle everyone who isn't.  I'm paranoid.  

Sometimes I wonder if I met myself five years from now... would I know me?  Or am I changing so fast that I wouldn't even recognize myself?  Are our circumstances supposed to change us that much?  

When I think about the things that used to be important to me, they seem so trivial now.  At the time, they were all very valid concerns.  But the things that weigh on my mind now are of an entirely different level.  I feel like a completely different person.  

I've always felt like a very expressive person.  I like to state how I feel, and people that don't kind of drive me crazy.  What you see is what you get.  If I seem to like you, that means I think we are friends.  And you don't have to guess or play games.  If I don't like you, I'm fairly straightforward about that too.  (If you'd like examples, just ask the doctors on the peds floor of the hospital...they know where they stand on my list.)  The girl that was wide open... that was me.

And then.  I started to change.  The first time I realized it was after we'd been through so many things... and I was trying to process them... and figure out how I felt... and I realized... I didn't feel anything.  Numb.  I think at a certain point, you get so far beyond pain that you just stop feeling.  Maybe its an automatic survival mechanism that kicks in... like your heart knows you can only take so much, so it has an emergency shut-off valve.  The next thing I noticed was a tendency to withdraw, which is completely weird for me.  I found myself thinking that just getting through the everyday stuff took so much energy that I didn't have the energy for extra things.  Or that just having a normal conversation took effort.  I mean, I don't know what is at the mall.  Or what happened on the news.  And my DVR is so backed up that I'm running out of space and deleting episodes of Olivia when my kids aren't looking so that I can make sure that Scandal records.  I can't tell you who is on American Idol.  And thinking about all of that stuff just makes me tired.  As does smiling, nodding, and saying we are fine... when we are just trying to make it a week without an ER visit... and there is no end in sight. 

And then I realized that life is moving on without me.  Events come and go, and I'm in a hospital room or at home waiting on a home health visit, or driving to one appointment or another.  And before you know it... life doesn't even look the same as it used to... and you're too far away to find your way back... and you aren't even sure you want to sometimes... but other times you feel like shouting, "Hey!  Don't forget me!  I'm still here!" 

I wonder if that is the way it is supposed to be or if I took a wrong turn somewhere.  I wonder if I have grown so concerned with saving my child that I lost myself.  Or maybe that self was okay to lose... and the whole idea was to become a more compassionate, knowledgeable, stronger self.  Shocker, I know, but I really don't have the answers.  Just lots of questions.  And the need for some melatonin. 

Life in the Medical Ward... Otherwise Known As Our Home

I'd be lying if I said I haven't wondered the past few weeks what in tarnation I've done to deserve this.  A baby at home on IV antibiotics while I'm getting phone calls about discussing neurosurgery... and now an invalid husband (which we all know is far worse than a sick child!)... what. in. the. world.

 

 

 Big D has a probable torn quad after landing under a 350-pound football player during a game in New York City.  I should've known that a trip to the Yankee capitol wouldn't end well for the southern boy.  I don't understand why it wasn't his arm.  God really has a sense of humor... since nobody can carry the poor injured big boy around.  He's been making use of painkillers and bags of frozen veggies on his HUGE knee, and awaiting MRI results to determine if surgery is necessary.  And we are more than a little bummed that this use of his PTO will most likely prevent him from accompanying us to the beach this summer.  Boo!  But I am thankful that he has had enough PTO to cover the three weeks he has been off work so far. 

This girl has been keeping me company with her nonstop cheerful chatter.  We took a little trip up the road last week to see a urologist since she's had frequent peeing issues as long as we can remember.  She entertained everyone in the office with her descriptions of her issues.  "I pee like always.  Like I can't even finish Olivia and then I have to pee.  And sometimes I have accidents if my mom doesn't pause my movie in time because I hate to miss anything."  Or... my personal favorite... "I don't poop every day.  But sometimes it builds up and when I poop, its so big that it sticks up out of the toilet in the air."  Hmm, I must've missed that.  Her issue ironically did turn out to be a poop issue... she is extremely constipated...to the point that it is compressing her bladder.  I felt really bad when I saw the x-ray... but she's never complained of constipation before so I'm not sure how I would've known that she was so full that poop overlapped her ribcage.  Go figure.  At any rate, that is a fairly easy fix... laxatives and some dietary changes.  

 There's been a lot of Dora watching in our house.  And snuggling.  And hanging out at home.  Which is better than in the hospital.

And with only one more week of  IV antibiotics to go... this girl is feeling great!!!  And her silly personality is out in full force.  I can't hardly keep up!  In that first picture... she may or may not have gotten busted for stealing a cookie.  I'm so happy that the girl who had a feeding tube a few months ago is now sneaking chocolate chip cookies!!! 

 

So that is what is happening in the medical ward that we call our home.  But, it could be far worse, and we have much to be thankful for.  At least we are all invalids who love each other.  :)