Yes, I am still alive. I have made it through a winter of suffering, both physically and emotionally. I simply have not had the energy to read many journals or write at all. Now that Summer Solstice is here, I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I just hope it's not another freight train hurtling down the track at me.
The surgical wound from my second surgery this winter/spring has almost-almost, mind you- healed up. I'm down to one small spot that can be covered by folded gauze and one piece of tape, I have been driving locally for three weeks, and the Visiting Nurses discharged me this last Monday. I was house bound from February till early June, and now I am moving into a summer of physical rehab.
It is difficult to believe that I have been in p.t. almost continually for five years now. I am more than a bit surprised at my own tenacity. I have been admired by those who know the whole medical saga-like my former therapist Cathy and some of you- for my courage, and I'll claim every bit of that courage. But, honestly, what else can I do but keep on staggering forwards into life as it is given to me?
Giving up turns out not to be an option. At one point I was at Yale New haven hospital, late at night, bleeding very heavily from two place in my side-something my doctor's residents did not seem to believe. The nurses were horrified, and kept taking the doctor's light bandages off to replace them with compression bandages, which I was bleeding through at a slower rate. The floor was crazy; that night one patient died, four were in critical condition, I was bleeding out, and the floor was short staffed (as usual).
I finally realized that I was going to have to be a squeaky wheel to survive the night, demanding more compression bandages every 2 hours. I actually considered going to sleep and just see if I would wake up in the morning, but nooo, my mind wouldn't let me sleep, so I kept ringing and getting blood transfusions (two that night, two more the next day, then a couple more the day after). That was when I realized that apparently I was damned to live through anything. And somewhat determined, too
Before summer really hits, I am going to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada for Meg and Adam's wedding, which is on June 30th. I am flying up this Thursday, spending three nights at a local college( for $45 per night!), then moving to the Oceanstone Inn and Resort, where they will get married, for three days (at very expensive a night), then going back to the college for three more nights. I'll fly home July 5th. If I don't end up flying from there to Denver-more about that later.
I figure this will be my last time in the Canadian Maritimes, and I better grab what vacation I can. I am not very strong-I've spent the last three months in my chair, working hard on healing, but I still aim to stagger around Halifax with my walker, trying hard to take in as much as I can.
The Wedding itself will be typically Meg, with a bit of Adam thrown in. There should be twelve of us, counting the bride and groom and Myla (who just turned two, and is wonderful!). They plan to wed outside in the afternoon by the ocean, with all of us in a semicircle around them, then disappear with the extremely expensive photographer, for pictures by lighthouses and other picturesque sites around Peggy's Cove, while we go out in a small boat for a tour.
We will return for a fancy dinner in the apparently incredible restaurant, and there will be no wedding cake-they have chosen raspberry flan for dessert. Then we will retire down to the fire pit for a bit more time together, but must be quiet by 10:30P.M. as it is a family resort. I am sure I'll be dead of exhaustion by then, but, damn it, I only have one child and do not want to miss any of the day! Oh, and did I mention the bride will be six months pregnant with another couple's baby? She is in the middle of a gestational surrogacy, and is not letting that slow her down!
The sad thing is that the wedding party may be cut by two. My brother Luke and his wife Mary are in the Poconos (of PA) to open our cabin there for renters, and were planning to drive to Canada for the wedding. Meg and I were both excited to spend some time with them, but now it looks as if them may drive straight back to Denver from PA, because my parents are failing fast. Right now, both of them are hospitalized.
Mom had back surgery in February and has been bouncing back and forth between hospital and rehab since then. She finally went home late last week, and Allison (my dad) was hospitalized two days later. She lasted 5 days at home without him-quite happily-then had to return to the hospital because her magnesium was too low. It bounces between too low and two high and lands her back there each time. Allison has a stomach problem and emphysema, which is worsening.
Poor Luke and Mary are the family in Denver, and used to being on the spot and in the know. It is driving Luke crazy not to be there, and he suddenly had an "ah ha!" moment about how Catherine and I feel stuck in Michigan and CT respectively. They have not yet decided on what to do-head back to Denver or on to Canada, but my suspicion is the will head home soon.
I am not taking a computer to Canada, so I will be incommunicado for a while, but I miss reading all of your journals regularly, and knowing what is going on in all of your lives. I drop in now and then, though, and think of you all often.