That Whole 'Sickness & Health" Thing

After my parents forked over the price of a sleek foreign-made sports car for my college education, I decided that I should have studied something else.  I spent 4 years in the education department:  cutting, gluing, coloring, reading, and making file folder games.  But, it wasn't long after graduation that I wished I had done something else.

Nursing school.

I should have gone to nursing school.

I have thought a couple of times through the years about dropping everything and joining up in the program.  Don my scrubs and get to work saving the world...or at least a person or two. But then I had babies.  And decided to homeschool.  And I live at the baseball field 9 months out of the year.  And.And.And.  And none of those things are conducive to nursing programs.

But this week I was granted the opportunity to stretch my nursing legs.  To see if I had the right stuff.

I don't.

Clearly.

I don't.

This week I have played nurse to the husband.  And I discovered very quickly that the scrub-life ain't for me.  A very very quick discovery, I might add.

It all started Tuesday morning.

Kirk went to the gym.  Like normal.  He worked out.  Like normal.  He was walking.  Like normal.  And he fell.  Like NOT normal.

Turns out Kirk's busted ACL (which he's known about for a year now, and had a surgery to take care of it on the books for March) decided to go ape-wild, and when Kirk hit the floor at the gym, his cartilage went ape-wild with it.  After trying to get it "popped" back into place and failing miserably, he called me and said, "Get me to my doctor.  Stat."

So off we went.  The ortho doc is about a 30 minute drive from us, so we loaded up the entire crew and headed that way, fully expecting the doctor to pop the knee back in place and send him home with a handful of pain pills and a pat on the back.

Ixnay on the going omehay.

Turns out the doctor couldn't get it popped back in either, and he scheduled Kirk for urgent surgery THAT DAY.  Whahuh?  That was not what I had planned for my day when I woke up that morning.

Long story short...we got the kids squared away, we had A VERY ROUTINE surgery done, and we went home.  With a fistful of pain pills and a pat on the back.

And so began my nursing career.

Just so happens that my first AND LAST patient can't just do things normally.

We spent Tuesday night and Wednesday day and night at home on the most powerful pain meds that a person can take by mouth. And it was the most excruciating day and nights that I have ever spent.  And I birthed 3 babies...without pain meds. 

Yes.  It was that bad.

After waking up Thursday morning and being in even more pain, we headed to the Physical Therapy center per dr's orders...because MOST ACL patients start therapy 2 days out.

The husband isn't normal.  Remember?

The therapists took about 3 looks at him and said, "This ain't right, Mister.  Get thyself to thy doctor."  (Although I think I'm just making up the redneck/King James voice in my head...but that's how I remember it.)

So after talking to the doctor's office, we very gingerly made our way back the 30 minute drive to his ortho.  Every move and bump and brake of the car caused him to grimace and use his not-pretty words.  I seriously had never seen anything like it....

Until...

He got in the doctor's office.  When the doc started tinkering around with the husband's knee, I thought all hell was going to break loose.  The doctor's face turned a strange shade of green and sheer panic stretched across his face.  And (in my memory) in his very best redneck/King James, he said, "This ain't right, Mister.  Get thyself to the hospital." 

So here we sit.  We're going on 24 hours in the hospital on some pretty hardcore pain meds. 

And here's what we know:  NOTHING.

Seriously.  Nothing.  The doctor just came in to see him, and, basically, they have no idea what caused Kirk to not respond to the pain medication.  They've run tests and done x rays, and everything about this very routine surgery checks out as very very normal. 

They just don't know.

And right now, we are just having to be okay with the not knowing part.

We do have a plan though.  Kirk is right now being taken off of his drip drugs with the magic button that he gets to push every 6 minutes, and they are moving him over to pain meds by mouth.  And then we wait.  If he can tolerate it through the night, then we go home.  If it goes crazy again, then we stay and rehook to the drip. 

It's hard to not know.
To watch this big ole' burly man cry real salty tears because the pain is so ridiculous.
To see him hurt.
It's hard to wait.
And watch.
And sleep on these horribly awful foldout pieces of plywood that they call "Family Beds." 

One thing I do know though....

No nursing school for me.  I've had enough.

Nope. 

I'm sticking with the flight attendant dream.

Peanuts, anyone?

Are you there? It's me, Horton.

I spent precisely 64 minutes today on the phone with a very nice man named Raj. Raj is from New Delhi but he pretended he was from Milwaukee. I was on to his little game, but I played along because Raj is the grand puppeteer determining whether I get Internet access back in working order at my house or not. So while I wait on Raj to do his thing, I'm stuck banking, blogging, and surfing from my phone. Which is a pain in the tail. So I sucked it up and tried to butter Raj up....

My Internet has been all kinds of wonky for the past several weeks. So I'm unashamedly blaming my blogging nonexistence on that. But...just to keep it real, there have been lots of other things occupying a lot of my minutes....

Like:

1) I've returned to the pit of hell..er...the gym. My jeans that were very loose-ish around Thanksgiving have started to groan when I try to pour myself in them, so I decided it was a sign. But I have definitely decided getting fat is WAY more fun than getting skinny. Yah, carbohydrates. Boo, chicken and brown rice.

2) I went to our homeschool group's Moms' Nite Out tonight. We all just sat at dinner in awe of the different faces. I don't think non-homeschoolers realize how taxing homeschooling can be. It's one thing to be a stay-at-home mom to babies and toddlers (NOT an easy job), but it's a whole other ballgame to have a houseful of prepubescents and adolescents day in and day out. This would be why I'm a proud partaker of Prozac.

3) Baseball has started up for our family. Which means I'm back to driving the taxi service. Tonight the boys went to a pitching clinic that lasted 3.5 hours. Three.and.a.half.hours. On a school night. That's nothing but crazy. But, of course, we'll go back for the next 7 weeks. Because we appreciate torture. (and by the way...yet another reason I'm so thankful we homeschool.)

4) I'm wasting monumental amounts of time planting and harvesting crops on Smurfville. Yes. Smurfs. If you are thinking Farmville, it's not. It's way cooler. Because it's Smurfs. And Smurfs make me happy.

5) I'm watching American Idol even though I said I wouldn't. I didn't think I could handle Steven Tyler and JLo. But I'm thoroughly and utterly smitten. I don't even miss Simon. Gasp.

6) I can finally tell you that the husband has been gone for the past 3 weeks, because I don't like to advertise when I'm bachlorette-ing it. But I can tell you that these 3 weeks have been uber-long. With the snow and the temperatures being so so cold, we've been stuck in the house way too much. Cabin fever is the understatement of the century. Let's just say, it was a good thing that the husband came home, because the boys and I were coming close to losing our religion.

7) I took my Christmas tree down. 25 days AFTER Christmas. Yes, I'm that person.

I could keep the list going, but, frankly, I'm getting carpal tunnel in my thumbs from phone-blogging.

Oh. And it's time to harvest my carrots. :)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Empty

Y'all, I'm spent.

I'm running on fumes now, and I'm having a hard time finding the time and energy and even the want-to to refill the tank.  When it gets like this, it is easier to just retreat and hide.  In my bed.  On the couch.  Anywhere it is dark and quiet.  Away from phones ringing.  And children talking. 

Today I've hid.

And I'm fighting the urge to not hide tomorrow.  And the next day.  And the day after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm so glad that even in the rough days of weepiness and exhaustion, there are some giggle-worthy moments.  Like this pajama clad Super Spy who has taken over my home....

Definitely graduation slide show worthy.....

Swirly

I'm airing a smidge on the swirly side tonight.

I was slapped in the face tonight with the fact that I'm very very blessed.  Yet at the same time punched in the gut with the knowledge that I've been failing. 

I have a gorgeous family that other people brag on.  I'm still stumped at times when people brag on the behavior of my hellions or compliment their manners, but I'm so incredibly humbled.  Yet so extremely proud.  All in the same exhale.

I have beautiful friends that love me in spite of myself.  My besties have chosen to look past the garbage that floods these flesh and bones and have decided that, for whatever reason, I'm worth their time and energy.  And I'm mortified that I've been taking them for granted.  Not anymore.  I'm resolving to make sure that they know that they are loved and appreciated and needed.  Love you, friendies.

I have a church family that is like none I've ever experienced before in my life.  I just came tonight from a gathering of believers that was honest and humble and authentic.  People laughed and cried and were mellow.  And then we loved on eachother.  It was the church of Acts.  In 2011.  And I'm in awe that the Lord saw fit to allow me to be a part of such wholeness. 

I attended a meeting today that kicked off a very very busy upcoming season of tournament baseball for Sawyer.  To people outside of the baseball world, tournament ball and Little League is like Neptune.  A world that is so far from anything understandable in the normal realm, that it is hard to even associate with.  I know because I used to be that person.  But tournament baseball can easily consume a family.  It can consume every inch of time, money, energy, and effort that you allow it to, and it can very easily become an idol.  My prayer for this season is that we can maintain healthy balance.  It is very tempting for Kirk and me (I'm equally at fault here...) to allow baseball to control and dictate our lives.  Balance.  Healthy balance.  It's a necessity.

I'm still reeling with the fight that our dear sister, Joanne Heim, is punching her way through.  Right now things are not looking good.  She's taken a turn for the worse, and a miracle is her only hope.  (Her husband Toben's updates on her blog are the most accurate information on her status...)  It is impossible not to reflect on life as I know it right now and go through "what ifs" and "what would happens."  PERSPECTIVE has become the mantra for this week, but I'm also struggling with how to pray.  I know all the churchy Sunday School answers about how God's will is perfect, but right now I really just want Him to heal Joanne.  It would be so much easier if we could just boss God around....




I was made painfully aware tonight that I haven't been doing enough to further God's Kingdom.  I've been pretty complacent about my position in Kingdom work, because it is easy to claim that raising up my boys as Godly men is enough right now.  Not that raising my boys to be Godly men isn't important...it is MORE than important.  It is my main and primary goal and focus.  But, I haven't been making myself available to the unchurched.  To the hurting.  To the broken.  I haven't been being who we were called to be.  I've stayed comfortable in my South Arkansas Bible Belt bubble.  But it's time to venture out.  And bring my boys with me.  It's definitely time....

And in other ridiculous swirly news, I'm way behind on my DVR, but I have read 3 books in the past 2 days. 

I've also learned to make a fire in my fireplace.

Swirly, indeed. 

There's a lot that's been whirling around the ole' gray matter, and though I'm still trying to make sense of it all, I think I've come to a conclusion...

Do less.
Be more.
Focus on Him.

And the rest all falls into place....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hoarder Schmoarder PEZuhroarder

My dad is a hoarder collector.  A self-proclaimed one, I might add. 
Kirk's parents are hoarders collectors.  Self-proclaimed, as well.

So it's really no wonder that we all come by it honestly. 

My sister is a hoarder collector, though she argues it's "not the same" as Jim-Dad's.  I'm a hoarder collector.  I don't really mind getting rid of stuff, but I despise the process it requires.  Organizing closets and going through this and that equals Texas-size headache to me, so I'd just rather not do it...thus hoards of stuff collections occur.  Kirk's a hoarder collector.  His reasoning is that you never know when you might need something or other.  And then there are the children.  All hoarders collectors.

But, perhaps the biggest hoarder collector we have in the family is Keaton.  The kid has a collection of collections.  He keeps papers and paperclips and bottle caps and the teensy syrup bottles from Cracker Barrel that come with his pancakes.  He has shells and rocks and leaves and pen caps and spiral notebooks and empty bullet casings and parts and pieces of anything and everything that he deems interesting enough to keep. 

As a result, when Keaton decides he's going to start a new collection, my reaction is usually, "Uh-huh, that's cool..." because the kid usually doesn't stick with something long before he's off to the next most interesting thing in the world. 

So it was when he decided he was going to start a Pez Dispenser collection. 

I smiled and nodded and said, "Uh-huh, that's cool..." and went on about my business.  I had no idea what would transpire over the next year.

It all started last February-ish.  The Pez Dispenser collection.  It started with a couple of Pez Dispensers he picked up at WalMart just because he thought they looked cool, and he had a couple of dollars burning a hole in his pocket.

Then he decided to gOOgle Pez Dispensers.

Which led to his eBay addiction discovery.

Long story short, since last February, Keaton's collection has grown to 195 dispensers (I know, because we count them often *wink*).  Some have been bought with piggy bank quarters, some have been worked for, some have been eBay finds, and a lot of them have been gifts. 

And so far, he's still loving the collection.  And as far as his dad and I are concerned, he's going to KEEP ON loving that collection.  Because we know how much has been invested in those crazy plastic candy machines.

Today, Keaton decided to get out his big bin of dispensers and ORGANIZE them, one of his most favorite activities.  And since I didn't have anything going, I decided to spend the day with him.  I let him tell me all about his favorite ones.  About the worth of this one and that one.  I watched him dust all of them and carefully place them away in their special boxes and bins with an organizational strategy that only a ten year old could come up with.  I even helped him make a spreadsheet that wasn't written in Childese, so that we could start keeping track of what he has and what he doesn't. 

It was fun.
But my favorite part was seeing him so excited about these things that he cherishes so dearly.





See the box of candy?  Yep..he doesn't eat it.  He hoards collects it, too....

Oh, how that boy makes me smile....

All for the love of Pez.... 

Watermelons

I heard on the news that 49 of 50 states have snow.  Florida is the only one wallflowering at our little white coat party.  Even Hawaii is shaking her snow thang. 

Poor Florida.

Or not.

Because, frankly, I'd be just fine if Arkansas would rest her legs and sidle up alongside Florida for a year or three. 

I consider it no small answer to prayer that the offspring have chosen to neglect the snow for the past two days, because I have had just about had enough of the slush and slop all up in my house.  And because of their hiatus, I've taken on a much better attitude regarding Old Jack Frost, mainly because I'm enjoying him from inside my warm house.  And because my floor isn't a constant mass of swirling snow puddle juice.

Considering that 49 out of 50 of you have also been slushing through the snow as of late, I'm almost positive that you have almost had your fill of the endless pictures of snowmen, snow forts, and snowball fights taking over everyone's neighborhoods.  But, too bad....you clicked over here, therefore, you must endure my barrage of family photos in the snow.  That is, unless you just X out of here, of course, which is always a possibility.  (Which is why I stealthily named this post "Watermelons" so that you wouldn't just assume right away that I was going to show snow pictures like everyone else in the Lower 48 Minus Florida Plus Hawaii Plus Alaska....Divided By Mongolia and Multiplied by Norway just for kicks.)

Getting on with it.....

SNOWMESOTIREDOFYOUMEGEDDON 2011

Holy Holding Marshmallow, Batman, that snowball is as big as his head!  (As was the cry fest that ensued after he chunked it at his BIG brother's head.)

This was taken just before he unleashed that huge snowball that he's holding in hand...while I'm saying, "No! I have my camera!" And then he did it anyway.  Hence the smirky grin.

Back Deck Snow Angels! 
(This is just as the snow was starting...we had no idea that fifty-eleven more inches would fall after that...)

I'll take Bundled Up Deliciousness for $1000, Alex.

Couldn't you just eat those freckles with a spoon?  Get in line.  I'm first.



The husband and the oldest rascal right before they tore up my yard during a mad fit of donut doin's.



Um...yes.  That would be them.  And this is the only picture I have of it, because I had to excuse myself into the house because I was going to have a panic attack about how fast he was driving that thing with my baby inside.

Look close...you can see the mismatched socks on the hands!  I have FINALLY discovered what all the lone socks are for that just live on top of my dryer. 

Alright, alright.  I'll stop. 

I guess all in all the snow wasn't that bad.  It was definitely gorgeous and gave us a great excuse to hunker down for a few days and do a whole lot of nothing.  But I will tell you that my perspective on snow has totally changed since I'm not teaching outside the home anymore.  I use to live for the morning news crawl that would announce a snow day for our school.  I would beg the weatherman to tell me that the temperature wasn't going to get high enough to melt the snow and ice off anytime soon. 

Not so much anymore.

Because homeschoolers don't get snow days.

Sheesh.  Poor kids.  Wonder who their teacher is?  Someone should have a talk with her.

 



If You're Going to Skim...Go Straight to My Fourth Point

I was gracefully reminded by my father today that I had not only fallen off the blog wagon, but was the bearer of wheel tracks right 'cross the face.  Hmmm....'tis true. 

But, as always, good excuses abound. 

Firstly, I've been stuck in a house with 3 people whose ages don't even come close to my own age if added up together.  Therefore, the last thing on my mind has been blogging, because I've just been trying to refrain from curling up in the corner and poking hot needles in my eyes.  Keep in full mind, that I love the children dearly and profusely, but only being exposed to those 3 same faces for days on end is enough to make anyone start sucking their thumb and calling for their mama. 

Snowmeggedon struck SouthWest Arkansas this past weekend, and though some of you Northerners would scoff at our few and mighty inches, it was enough to send us Suthenuhs raiding the bread aisle at Walmart and confining ourselves to our homesteads.  We know sweat.  We don't know about this snow stuff.  (Case in point:  After thoroughly soaking through our first pairs of measly thin knit mittens and gloves while playing in the snow, I resorted to coating the boys' hands in socks.  Yes, socks.  Because we usually don't have a need for those thick thinsulate gloves whilst we're swatting mosquitoes.)   

On to my second excuse.  We lost our power during Snowmeggedon.  Now, granted, it was only out for 8 hours, but, I'm still recovering from the frozeness that overtook my toes during that time.  Plus, I had to trek to my van in the snow uphill both ways and barefoot to charge my phone, and that just made me grumpy.  And my grumpiness about the whole ordeal has unfortunately persisted....

Thirdly, I don't appreciate the constant bundling/unbundling of snow clothes.  Oh, to just have snow suits and snow boots...easy on, easy off.  (Listen to me assuming those are easy on/easy off...those ski getups could be like Fort Knox to get in and out of, but for my rambling purposes, I'm going to pretend they go on smooth as butter.)  But, since our warmest clothes consist of fleecey pajama bottoms and an assortment of camouflage parts and pieces, it was a little ridiculous all the layering and tucking that had to be done just to send the boys out for a romp in the snow.  And then they'd want to come in because the socks on their hands were sopping wet, and they needed a new pair.  I was popping Tylenol by the handful after all of that....

Fourth, and most importantly of all, I have been totally and thoroughly sobered by the news of a dear fellow blogger that has suffered majorly at the hands of an imperfect human body this week.  Joanne Heim, some know her better as The Simple Wife, had a stroke yesterday.  And now she is lying in a hospital bed in very critical condition.  Her 9 year old daughter found her at home, and in the blink of an eye, the lives of that entire family have been turned drastically upside down.  Everything that they knew was changed in an instant.

Joanne is only 38.  Thirty-eight.  And everything about the happenings have left me in a strange swirl of emotions.  I don't know Joanne personally, but I know people who do.  Their pain must be so much more deep than mine, yet I find myself grieving for her and her family.  Joanne is a blog friend of mine, and one that always had such uplifting and encouraging words for me the times I exchanged words with her.  She loves Jesus with every fiber of her being, and she is such an amazing advocate for marriage, family, and spreading the Word.  Joanne's husband, Toben, has been updating her blog here, and you can also follow @tobenheim on Twitter for updates on her progress.

Please pray for Joanne.  Please pray for her daughters, Audrey and Emma.  Please pray for Toben.  And the host of family and friends that are aching for her.  I know with all of my heart that Joanne would want this situation to glorify Jesus, and she would plead with the Father for whatever outcome gained that result.  I am praying for healing, but I also find myself beseeching the Lord for His good and perfect will to be done. 


(I'm not posting pictures today for my Photo Project.  Frankly, I don't have the energy to fight my internet service and Blogger to wait on the upload.  Perhaps tomorrow......)