by Sarah | Jan 5, 2011 | All About Me, Crap
Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow; My eyes are tired of weeping, My heart is sick of woe.
~Ann Bronte
There have been plenty of posts for me to write in recent days. Recaps of 2010. Dreams of 2011. The kids are back in school. Life is returning to our level of normal. All PICC lines are gone, casts…
But my fingers haven’t typed a letter.
I’ve been sick. Sick as a dog for the third time in 2 months.
And to be honest, 2010 sort of sucked. We had some highs, to be sure. Some wonderful notes…but we had a few pressing lows, and some that haven’t even been dispelled yet. Areas where we linger in the hellish limbo of unanswered questions.
I lost my grandmother this year. My spunky, vibrant, bossy, stubborn grandma was taken within a week of a cancer diagnosis. Suddenly, cruelly ripped from our lives.
My Angel faced her first real level of illness at the same time. Her first severe round of massively strong antibiotics to defeat an infection that is beyond unique to CF patients. And then she was admitted to the hospital six months later for the first time. We had isolation, PICC lines, IV antibiotics…so many new and frightening evidences of her illness.
We heard the ‘official’ word “Autism” with both relief and tears. Riley faced kindergarten and challenges within herself…and gave us more challenges than we were sure we could manage.
Brandon broke finger in the beginning of summer, his wrist at Halloween. He got straight A’s…and then became faced with a possible CF diagnosis for himself as well.
For the last two months of 2010 there was someone injured or sick at all times. There was no break, no respite. I, who by law as a mom am NEVER allowed to get sick, as I said above I’ve gotten sick 3 times in the past 2 months. Right now it’s so bad, I’ve been laid up since Saturday. I haven’t been able to talk for a week. It sucks big time.
My husband has been struggling against his depression with as much strength as he can muster. The end of the year between his birthday and the holidays are always soooo hard on him, and the added stress of constant illness…I fear he’s ready for a massive break.
I’m tired of crying – but then again, I still don’t think I’ve shed a tear.
I’m exhausted from the constant beat down. I’ve taken maybe 5 pictures in 2011 because I’ve been sick for all of it…and the picture above is one of them. I had to find the beauty somewhere…and I did in the gorgeous flowery pattern of frost on our truck’s windshield.
And I’ve found it in my Riley’s beautiful way of taking care of her sick Momma (which she has taken to calling me over Mommy). In Angel’s snuggling with her Daddy, sad because we can’t dare to let her snuggle with me.
Once I am better I can take the reins and find the silver lining again. I can free up my husband to release his restraints and rid himself of some of the burden’s beating against his fragile wall of strength. I can recover my house from the clutter of Christmas. I can make sure each of my children know I love them, and I’m not just the grumpy witch on the couch that semi-yells at them to be quiet w/ her non-existent voice (seriously, it’s SAD how I sound).
But right now…
I’m not there.
I only hope tonight is the night I am able to SLEEP. To get past the worst.
Because I don’t like being here.
I want to be there.
Where I had my sh*t together. I was “ready” to face whatever.
Right now I can’t even face myself. (seriously, be glad there’s no self-portrait here today. *shudders* It would give you nightmares)
by Sarah | Jan 3, 2011 | Reviews
This post was supposed to be all tongue in cheek.
So jokingly desperate in a desire to keep the phone.
To express that our short 6 week “trial” period to review this fun bit of a toy.
For weeks on twitter (hashtag of #VZWhAPPy will show you everyone’s reactions to the phone) I was jokingly wondering if they noticed that I’d returned my crummy little LG in place of the Droid. How my husband took it to work and declared he didn’t like it…that it was more of a “toy” than a phone.
Unlike most of the world that became addicted to Angry Birds as they played with the phone…
I found a different game.
One filled with bubbles…and my frustration at trying to pop them all.
Bubble Blast became my biggest addiction. I played it constantly.
My son found a few games and kept trying to snatch away the Droid at every opportunity.
My Droid went with me EVERYWHERE.
I tweeted. I facebooked. I played. I used all the camera apps I could.
If I was to be honest, the one thing I didn’t do a lot on it was make phone calls.
My one problem (that probably would have been solved if I’d read the manual) is that I kept hanging up on people with my cheek, or muting them. Even when the screen went black, one touch of my cheek seemed to activate it. I couldn’t figure out how to stop that from happening.
But then, my world turned upside down.
We were given the Droid for the Holiday season…to help make it easier/happier.
I never knew the impact it would have when my baby ended up THERE.
I didn’t realize how cathartic it would be to be able to tweet as we waited for an admissions receptionist that my baby was being admitted.
To be able to text/tweet/facebook w/ a Droid when my regular phone had no service.
To be able to use the games to distract my baby from her procedures. From the WAIT TIMES for procedures.
To watch her face light up with delight and ask for the “black phone” and the Sponge Bob game…instead of crumbling into tears at the wait or the upcoming procedure.
To be able to pull it out quick and get some amazing footage of my baby singing Christmas carols in the middle of the night when she refused to sleep.
The Droid filled the empty spaces.
No hospital stay is fun.
But the Droid helped.
I never expected to WANT to give it back.
But I really never expected just HOW MUCH it would come to my aide in this time.
My Verizon upgrade isn’t until November. I will feel the loss of this phone on so many levels.
So many thanks to Cherie for hosting the event that brought us this phone.
To Verizon Wireless (Michelle) and Kyle Communications for sponsoring the event and our trial periods with these phones.
Overall the phone was a WONDERFUL joy to our family. The few problems I had (battery life @the end of my 6 weeks has been BAD…and the aforementioned hanging up problem) were far outweighed by the good and the happiness that was brought to us…the added peace it helped for us in the days in the hospital.
by Sarah | Jan 2, 2011 | Photography, Weekly Winners
All taken w/ Canon Rebel XTi or my Droid.
All of my absolute favorite pictures from 2010. Luckily I only got really photo crazy in the past couple of months or this would be far more insanely long than it already is.
Lines to the Past
Rapid Wings
I See You
Whistful
Water Falls
One
Wishes of Love
Stairway to Heaven
Teamwork
>
Forgotten
Rolling
Pointe
Drops
Lines
Moon Flare
Reflections
Shrouded Beauty
Up a Tree
Perfect Sunrise
In Your Eye
Tricksy Treating
Taking Flight
Close
Green Dragon
The Eye Has It
True Love Heart
See more of my favorite photos over at my flickr account.
That’s all for this week. Head on over to Lotus‘ digs to see more!!
by Sarah | Dec 31, 2010 | All of Us, Community, Cystic Fibrosis, Hospital
In ll of my years online Archie has been frustrated. He wanted me to get “real” friends. People that I could see face to face, call on the phone (even though I have issues using the phone). That were flesh and blood before me, not who-knows-where across the internet.
Archie hates when I tell this, because he says he does know that the people are “real”…they just aren’t close physically. He knows how deep my friendship with Jess is, after all she’s the first one he called after my surgery, and on other occasions. He would just prefer that my ‘best’ friend live across the street (face it, wouldn’t we all like that).
ANYWAY. I’m getting off track on the point of this post. We were admitted, I tweeted about it and left it at that.
Within an hour, I had a message from the beautiful Emily. It said simply, “What do you need? Tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”
I have often talked about the Indianapolis Blogging Community and how wonderful it is. The parties in recent months have enhanced that fact.
But I had no idea what the sense of community in both the bloggers and in my own neighborhood would mean.
Casey came to the hospital loaded down with goodies that Emily had organized. A pillow pet was in there for Angel, as well as snacks from Casey & Emily, and Katy (her delectable goodies are pictured above) and Sarah and MrsBlonde.
So much that Archie and I just stared in awe & wonder at the gifts we’d been given. The support offered. Snacks, full meal dishes that only needed to be popped into the oven, among other things for which we’ll be eternally grateful.
To add to the amazing things these women pulled together for us, I came home to find our driveway cleared of snow thanks to neighbors, a small package in the mail from Michelle (another Indy Blogger), and neighbors that gathered mail and also put together small presents for our little one.
Archie and I have been so touched by the support and caring in our established (and newly established) communities, we are still moved to tears by it. I don’t think we could have made it through these past couple of weeks without these wonderful people that have touched our lives and our hearts.
IT had been many years since I have been established in such wonderful communities.
My heart is full with our blessings, even through the darkness that we’ve been moving through.
****
~Tomorrow comes the post about another lifesaver we had, rather by coincidence. It’s a post I’d been planning on writing with far more humor and tongue in cheek – but now it will be much more.
by Sarah | Dec 29, 2010 | All About Kennedy, Cystic Fibrosis, Hospital
One last post on the bad. Then tomorrow I will post on our joys & blessings.
Day 1 was pure chaos. We were admitting, doing x-rays, tests, getting settled. Shipping off other kids. Packing things at home.
Angel, for her part, was having a great time. The hospital was her “new home”. While she hated the IV, her mood was stellar. Cheerful. Excited. She didn’t care she was stuck in one (decent sized) room. There were new people in the super nice nurses and staff. She got to play with an iPad (she kicked butt on puzzles) while they were running tests. There was a TV that was ALWAYS on her shows. Games JUST for her. SHE was the star.
Archie & I?? Before our first sleepless night we were exhausted. On the uncomfortable couch in the room. With a child that doesn’t like to sleep in normal situations – much less with all this going on. Vitals being taken every 4 hours. Not to mention a heating/cooling system that is wonky and either too hot or too cold.
Strong. Boy, was my girl ever strong and brave. Faced almost every situation with a smile. Hated the IV – for about 12 hours, then didn’t care as long as you weren’t trying to take off the tape, or take out the IV. Hated the room that she was getting the PICC in…but then, don’t we all? It’s darn scary. Screamed in pain when they put in the anesthesia – but to be honest I might have a little when they put it in my hand – that stuff burns!! She was brave and strong, and charming and disarming. Everyone loved her.
I was weak. I had to run from the room when she started screaming before the anesthesia even touched her hand. I had to leave the room, or call in the morale team whenever they took blood from her PICC because I couldn’t watch, or listen to her cry.
I wanted to beg the doctors to let her stay in the hospital. Because I was scared of the PICC. Of a relapse at my incapable hands. Of popping “The Bubble.”
I only cried once – the day they put in her PICC – and only for a few minutes.
Maybe that’s the problem.
I’m still so exhausted. So worn down.
So is Archie.
We feel like we’ll never “Catch up” on the sleep lost (if there is such a thing)…or if we’ll ever be able to sleep right again.
We knew it was coming.
I wanted the “first time” out of the way…but I NEVER wanted the “first time” out of the way.
I need to cry.
I need to sleep.
I need to be able to go back to a time when I could pretend it still wasn’t real.
But I can never get that fantasy back.
Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow; My eyes are tired of weeping, My heart is sick of woe.
