Blissfully Unaware of the Chaos that Surrounds Me

San Diego . . .

is still one of my very favorite cities to visit. I don't know that I would want to live there. Or more specifically, I know that I wouldn't be able to afford to live there. Simple enough. But to visit? Yes, please.

The kiddos and I remembered something incredibly important on this trip. We travel well together. It's easy. We are easy together. We are flexible. We are easy-going. We hang in there. We go with the flow. We enjoy - thoroughly enjoy - traveling together. Even with sister having a horrible case of strep throat. We still enjoyed our easy, fun and simple time together.

It seems so simple . . . but it is incredibly important and telling, all at the same time.

Significant points to treasure . . . (1) we were blessed to be able to spend time with (our) Steve. We miss him more than anyone should miss a Pastor/leader/friend. I cried when we drove away from our wonderful afternoon with him. (2) Dylan is pretty much the most amazing brother/son that anyone could ever hope for. He saved my bacon and watched his sick/sad/crabby sister while I worked. Mark my words . . . someday, his beloved and children will be overwhelmed by his goodness and giving nature. He rocks. (3) Halle-girl held her own. Strep or not, she hung in there. I was so proud of her. She was body-surfing and being tossed by the waves right up until the moment that she clutched her throat and croaked out that "it felt like her throat was lined with razors". (4) Time with my fam-bam is priceless and I am filled with gratitude for each and every moment.

#crazyblessed #sandiego #otc2016 #worklifebalance #sanclemente #carlsbad #friends #family

 

Same Old, Same Old . . .

Foot? Still lame.

Scooter? Still squeaky.

Me? Still irritable. 

Dylan? Still a great kid. Playing basketball. Playing church dodgeball like a 1980's swanky PE teacher! He's working hard at school. Currently away at youth group winter retreat. I miss him. I'm a big baby like that.

Halle? Still hilarious, sparky and smart. Currently down with the plague. Laying next to me, sweating through Motrin and Tylenol. Coughing through her cough syrup. Last night she coughed so hard that she threw up and woke up at 4:00 am. And was thereby done sleeping for the day.

John? Working a lot. Do all teachers put this much prep time into their courses? If so, kudos to you and your students! And my sympathies to your families!

So with that, I leave you with a random photo assortment from the last week. 

^^^ from top to botton, left to right . . . 

Our RLG (Real Life Group), i.e., "small group" from church is such an amazing parrt of our lives. They showed up on Thursday night to watch and cheer on Dylan's basketball game. Love that real life love.

Halle and I did the coolest fabric/glue resistant art project. So fun and it turned out great!

Bub at basketball.

Bub at dodgeball.

Halle's pig mask.

Football playoffs. Youth Pastor in the house!

Team Scotty. It's been a year since the Harrington's lost their Scotty. Inimaginable.

Gummy bears in my lap. At 9:00 am.

Coaches' jackets before our big game vs PV last week. Nice looking jackets . . . crappy score :-(

Curbside . . .

delivery should be available everywhere! Grocery stores, restaurants, Target, elementary schools . . . basically anywhere that I need to get out of the car to get something? I would be willing to pay a (reasonable) fee to have them bring it to me! 

This is what it takes for me to get out and do anything . . . 

1. Getting dressed. This is a big deal when one of your legs in encased in a giant cast! I have actually gotten stuck in a pair of jeans since my surgery. There's no humility like having to ask someone to help you get unstuck from your pants. Seriously. There were scissors involved!

2. Collecting my purse/phone/keys, etc. This is not simple when you have to scoot your way around the house!

3. Getting to the car. Do you know that every single entrance to our house involves stairs? Yep. We live on a hill. So I have to scoot to the back door. Pray that someone is home and can carry my scooter down the stairs for me. THEN I SCOOT DOWN THE STAIRS ON MY BUTT. Yep. For reals. Then scoot to the car. Put the scooter IN the car. Hop back to the drvier's door and hop into the car. Sigh. Ah.

4. Driving is fairly easy. It's my left foot that is the bad one, so it just lays there.

5. When I arrive and need to get out? I have to hop to the back of the car, open the hatch, get the scooter out and set up . . . all while balanced on one (good) leg!

All that . . . just to get some bread or fruit at the store? Nope. Not happening. My children may well remember this time as those weeks without fresh fruit. Fortunately, John is around for most of this time and makes sure that our children aren't getting scurvy.

Grocery delivery, curbside take-out . . . seriously, people . . . we need more of that! Until then, I'll just be sitting here, with my leg up, eating ice cream and frosting. Seriously? Have you tried this? I always thought it was the cake and ice cream that made the combo so delectable, but once you've eaten your way through all the cake in the house and you're down to just frosting? It's not bad! In fact, I almost prefer it!

Post-op Day #21 . . .

and what I've learned since the big ankle/foot reconstruction:

1. Pain meds don't make me sleepy.

2. Pain meds give me seriously whacked out dreams!

3. With my addictive family history, I was a little fearful about being on hardcore pain meds, i.e., Oxycotin, Norco, etc. Seems that fear was unwarranted. I never felt buzzed or high or even happy while on them! No desire to keep taking those bad boys, that's for sure!

4. Now that I am no longer needing pain meds? Time is moving very slowly. Verrrrrryyyyyy. Slooooooowwwwwlllllyyyy.

5. Percocet made me itch like a mo-fo!

6. While my knee scooter is amazing when compared to being on crutches or using my damn walker? It's really lost it's novelty in the last three weeks!

7. When Mama has a hard time moving about the house? The house goes to sh*t, very, very quickly!

8. It is very irritating to be so limited.

9. While I'm beyond bored and irritated? I am exceedingly grateful that this is temporary. 6-8 weeks is a long time, but it's far from forever!

10. There is something about BONE pain that sucks beyond measure and the feeling of your bones knitting back together and/or hitting the metal now in your body? Ugh! Makes me want to throw-up, just thinking about it!

11. As bored as I am? I still cannot get into Dr. Who. It's too weird. I tried and tried, but I'm not feeling it! Much to my son's chagrin!

12. I love to read. Always have, always will . . . so why can't a book keep my stinking interest right now?

13. When my foot gets so swollen that I think it might burst? I get little blister-like bulges on each toe that fill with even more fluid. Gross!

14. Even though I didn't like the pain meds? I begged and cried for the doctor to give me more Dialudid at my post-op appointment . . . because it was the only thing that really worked during those first ten days. Wisely, he refused to give me any more . . . just (ha!) Oxycotin and Norco for me!

15. I have amazing friends. Friends who drive my kids places, bring us food, pick up groceries, listen to me complain, are understanding when I forget everything . . . 

16. Speaking of . . . forgetting, that is . . . I have seriously forgotten most of what occurred between December 18 and about the 30th. Conversations, occurrences, visits with friends, what we got our children for Christmas . . . it's pretty sucky!

17. It is totally possible to get stuck in your jeans when you have a big 'ole cast on your leg! I had to cut myself out of one pair! They stretch more going on than they do coming off, that's for sure!

18. I have really considered starting a company that sells clothing for people in casts. I don't think it would really work, but seriously . . . pajama bottoms barely fit over this bad boy!

19. I took my 97- year-old Gram to her doctor's appointment the other day. I had to use my walker because no one was home to help me get my scooter down the stairs. So help me, SHE LAPPED ME WALKING BACK TO THE EXAM ROOM! With her cane and 97-year-old legs! She absolutely left me in the dust. She even held the door for me on the way out! Talk about feeling like an idiot!

20. Sleeping with your leg elevated? Is lame. Not comfortable at all. 

21. You cannot do anything quietly while on a squeaky scooter. Nope. I wake up John when I get up to pee. I wake up Halle if I scoot down the hallway. I wake up the dog if I think about moving at all!

22. Lastly . . . I am now the not-so-proud owner of a Franken-foot. I'm kind of freaking out about how scary looking it is! Vain, I know, but man I hope it heals up and looks a little less terrifying at some point!

And with that, I am going to bed. To sleep with my elevated foot up on my wedge. But first I will scoot my squeeky scooter to the bathroom and try to not wake anyone up on my way!

Complaining, whiney and pathetic Mama out!

Just Laying Around . . .

watching Eloise at Christmastime with my girl. Dylan's playing a computer game and John is napping. Apparently, taking care of me, the kids and the house is exhausting! Who knew? ;-)

I actually took a shower today. My first real shower since last Tuesday night! Oye!

Can I just say that if you're going to be in a cast for 6-8 weeks, all of the following items are 100% necessary:

At some point soon, we need to pull it together. Halle is in the children's service at church this afternoon and I'm certain that it will take us longer than normal to get moving. I move slowly these days. Especailly after just sweet talking my nurse into giving me some pain meds. Which were very much needed after my big shower! These are my standards, these days . . . low, low, low!

Speaking of low standards, I'm not quite certain what I can wear with this lovely cast of mine. So I'd better get to it!

 

December 22nd . . .

and here I sit. Nothing is wrapped. Nothing is baked. Nothing is done.

And not much is going to change between now and Christmas morning! But there will be no baking. No deliveries to neighbors. No caroling. Wrapping . . . that will happen. Out of sheer necessity, only.

Because it's nearly impossible to get much done with just one functional leg. Not to mention that I'm 100% hopped up on pain meds . . . although still feeling a lot of pain . . . maybe tomorrow  I can strive for 110% hopped up?

After the previous week from hell (sponsored by Norovirus), I was not totally certain that I wold move forward with my scheduled ankle reconstructive surgery. But I did. At 5:30 on Wednesday, December 18th, I checked into the hospital. I just barely checked out of there yesterday, the 21st. Truth by told, I am really missing the adjustable bed and the handy bedside machine that dispensed my pain meds whenever I pushed the little button! But being home has it's advantages, for sure. It was a little lonely at night! And my bed here is much more comfortable, even if I am reliant on piles of pillows to stuff below my leg. And John is a tough nurse. He doesn't give out extra pain meds like my hospital nurses did. Breakthrough pain, babe! Breakthrough pain!

So, we're just a couple of days away from Christmas and it's as close as we're going to get. My goal for Christmas day is to not cry in front of anyone. That seems like a good place to start! My second (and more important goal) is to sit back and soak it all in. Enjoy the moments from my benched Christmas.

Weekly . . .

bloggin. It's where I'm at. And if I'm going to skip blogging on a more frequent basis? Random blogging is all I've got.

Downton Abbey. A sick and sadly, yet addictive interest that I can no longer deny. The Season 3 finale? Left me yelling and crying and waving my fist about. It wasn't pretty. Yet I am begging John to watch seasons 1-3 in order to be caught up and prepared to sit on the couch with me and weep and wail through Season 4. I can barely wait. Even if he may possibly be dreading it.

Our garage. Looks as if homeless hoarders are staging a sit-in. (No offense meant or intended towards the homeless or hoarders.) But, and I do mean but . . . the kids and I spent an hour starting to dig through the entire ordeal. It's a small and slight start. But it's a start nonetheless.

Admission. The movie. I am watching it now. It's sappy and predictable. Yet I cannot turn it off before it ends. Even though I know how it ends. Call me simple.

VBX. Vacation Bible Experience at Bidwell Pres. Five days. 11 kiddos in our group . . . 300 altogether. A bazillion events and activites and crafts and songs and snacks. Thank goodness for a great co-leader (my son, Dylan) and an amazing program. Drama, small groups, curriculum, music . . . and God. Can we have a VBX for grown-ups?

Sinus infections are a real pain. Literally. But, I am on the 6th day of an Augmentin course that although it seems to be causing me to break out in a rash and possibly causing a large hole to burn through my stomach lining? My sinus infection symptoms seemingly are getting better. I'll take a holey stomach and bumpy arms if I can just get over the last month of sickness. Puh-lease!

Wedding reception invites for the BFF. Who may have been just as happy with sending out an evite. They almost killed me. One burnt fingertip at a time! Who would ever think to use hot glue and burlap ribbon in the same sentence, let alone in the same craft? Whoops . . . that was me! Also, note to self, Mail Merge may have possibly been created by the devil. Or one of his minions at minimum. But I'm so excited for her and her upcoming nuptials! Makes every glue gun burn worthwhile!

Art camp. This week. For Halle. It's amazing. There are no other words except I want to go to art camp too!

My lovely friends surprised me with a birthday re-do. It was incredibly sweet and reminded me how very grateful I am for them and what they bring to my life. I am so thankful for each one of them.

The weather. It's weird. No other word for it. Raining yesterday and today. And it's supposed to be in the 100s by the Friday. Yuck.

Pictured above: lovely wedding reception invites, all wrapped, glued and ready to go in the envelopes. Super kitty. (Don't worry, the dog has one too!) My rashy arm. And lastly, why do I always burn the last bagel (or english muffin or insert some other toastable goodie here)? It's never the 2nd to last one where I might be able to try again to actually pay attention to what is in the toaster oven.

FYI: it's taken me three days to actually finish this post. If you find my motivation anywhere along the way, please return it to me ASAP! Until then, it's back to work for me!

Walking Pneumonia . . .

is what this girl has. Yep. And why wouldn't I? Seriously. Although the official diagnosis came in June, I totally consider this to be a May disease. Because ya'll know how much I hate the month of May!

Anywhooo . . . it's 1:30 am. I'm not just awake because of the horrific coughing. Nope. Still working. Apparently when I am feverish, sicker than a dog and trying to balance work/home/graduations? I do not work quickly, efficiently or at a high level of intelligence. So my deadline of 8:30 am is fast approaching. Considering that I am driving carpool for the last day of school and we have to leave the house at 7:40? My deadline is actually a little sooner than that. 

So, back to work I go. Just one more (kinda major) task to do and I'll be done. Or done enough to go to bed. I am actually going to take at least Monday-Tuesday off next week to rest. Doctor's orders. (Of course, he also told me to not talk and Lord knows, I haven't abided by that either!) So I am totally focused on life after about 11:00 am tomorrow. That gets us through school. Then everything (other than getting better!!) becomes more optional. At least for a few days.

Until then . . . my graduates:

Man alive, do I love those kiddos and am so very proud of them! 

A Break Would be Nice . . .

So um, yeah. I keep saying that I'm done. D.O.N.E. Done. But the fun just keeps on coming!

Dylan finally recovered from his tonsillectomy after 10 very tough days. Pain meds around the clock. Minimal eating. Lots of pain. He lost 15 pounds. After 14 days, the doctor released him to return to school/basketball.

On Monday (6 days ago), Dylan went to basketball conditioning. We warned him (as did his coach) to "go easy". His "go easy" and ours are completely different ideas, apparently. He was really sore and tired. (Duh.) On Tuesday he had a private lesson with the owner of gym. On Wednesday, he was really sore. Sore as in, when I picked him up from school, he had a hard time getting his legs into the car.

Wednesday evening, he was supposed to go practice. He couldn't walk. They were doing team pictures, so I took him to the gym for that. Then the coaches and staff stretched him out and he decided to stay for a (truly) light workout to try and loosen him up.

Thursday morning, he couldn't bear weight on his legs. I was ready to take him to the ER at that point, but John thought I was being over-reactive. I compromised and took him to the walk-in outpatient clinic. Where they diagnosed him as having muscle fatigue and spasms. They gave him a shot of Torodal and 10mg of valium. They sent us home with more valium, ibuprofen and pain meds. We made it through Thursday. We took him into a massage therapist. We stretched him. He sat in the hot tub. We pushed fluids. We made him walk it out. Friday was much of the same. He was ok as long as he was distracted and didn't engage his quads.

And then he hit a wall. John and I had gone out to an early birthday dinner with some of our best friends. Dylan was home with Halle. Still hurting, but doing ok. Right after we got home, however, it got ugly. And got ugly fast!

My 6'2" man-boy done fell apart. 

So I listened to my mama-gut (mama instinct always wins!) and took him to the ER. They assessed him. Medicated the crapolla out of him and Dylan went to sleep. I sat next to his gurney and watched all the weirdness in the ER for three hours. Extra-special weirdness as it was a Friday night.

And then the doctor came and kneeled down to me and showed me his lab report.

Check out those high numbers in the middle of the report. Specifically his CPK . . . normal range is 55-170. Dylan's result? 56,097. This lab result combined with his symptoms lead to his admitting diagnosis: exertion-induced Rhabdomyolysis.

Rhabdomyolysis is the breakdown of muscle fibers that leads to the release of muscle fiber contents (myoglobin) into the bloodstream. Myoglobin is harmful to the kidney and often causes kidney damage.  Myoglobin breaks down into substances that can damage kidney cells. Rhabdomyolysis may be caused by any condition that damages skeletal muscle, especially injury.

So instead of being sent home, we were given a room. And our man-boy was admitted to the hospital for a few days. By the time they got him a room, checked him in, reviewed the orders, etc., it was 4:00 this morning. I finally dozed off around 5:45. Only to be rudely awakened a few moments later when my "reclining lounge bed" snapped up like a taco shell! I was the filling! Blood draws at 6:00. Doctor's rounds at 7:00. It was awesome. 

However, the good news is this . . . because of Dylan's youth . . . because of his great habit of drinking tons of water and by the grace of God; he shouldn't have any permanent damage to his kidneys. Thankfully.

Worst birthday weekend, ever; from a planning (and even slightly idealistic) perspective. But, most importantly, I've received the best birthday gift in the world . . . to know that my child is being cared for, getting better and is ultimately (God-willing), going to be OK.

And just in case you didn't think that was enough? I drove John's car home from the hospotal this morning. It broke down within walking distance (thankfully!) of our house. And also, just for sh*ts and giggles; Halle is complaining of aches, pains and exhaustion. And just popped up with a 102 degree temperature. Of course she did. Of course.

Tonsils be Gone . . .

no, not mine . . . they are thankfully still gone!

But our man-child had his tonsils taken out on Monday morning. Poor Bubs.

And well, frankly . . .  poor me. Although my physical pain is non-existent, watching my boy go through this hurts my heart. And raises my anxiety and blood pressure. I had quite the emotional breakdown last night. To properly re-count it, you may need the history/full-picture. And if you don't want to muscle through the details of my afore-mentioned breakdown, then just scroll down and skip the next several paragraphs of my b*tching therapy!

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On Friday, John casually mentioned that he wasn't really doing clinical hours on Monday and Tuesday. Nope. He had agreed to a teaching job. Months ago. But he failed to put it on our shared calendar. Which meant that in stead of just missing a few clinical hours in order to be there for Dylan's surgery? He wouldn't be there for Dylan's surgery. Grrr. Which also meant that it wouldn't be two parents vs. two kids. It would be 1-2.  So I got a sitter for Halle. And pulled up my big girl panties and planned on taking Dylan to surgery and bringing him home on my own. 

On Friday, I picked up the house. Helped the cleaning ladies (God bless them) really clean my house. And paid the (newly-hired) yard guy to take care of the yard. While my husband worked extra clinical hours. (To help make-up for today.)

On Friday night, we actually had a date night.After a lovely dinner on the patio at Grana, we picked up Dylan from basketball practice and took a little detour on our way home. We ended up going to our church's first softball game. We had the sitter drop Halle off with us and even got see Lauren and Prince Bobby. It was good. We were the fun parents who let their 5-year-old run around Hooker Oak until 10:30 pm. Fun=crazy? Possibly!

On Saturday morning, I drove to a local bakery at 7:15 to pick up dessset for Easter Sunday. Then just after 8:00 am; Dylan, Aunt Karissa and I headed to Roseville for a basketball tournament. John and Sis stayed home.

Dylan's team played three games. My Dad met us at the tournament and stayed for the entire day. And took Dylan to lunch/entertained him during his four-hour-break between games #1 and #2. Which was awesome. Karissa and I tried to get our shop on. We weren't overly ($$$) successful, but we tried! Although I did manage to score a super-sweet Easter dress for Halle at Nordstrom. It rang up for $14!

Dylan's team ended up losing the consolation game by a couple of points, but given that they had never played together as a team prior to that tournament? I thought they did pretty well. We got home just before 10:00 pm. At which point I put Halle to bed. And then went to Safeway. I got home around 11:00 and prepped the ribs. And other stuff. But I don't remember what, at the moment. Too. Tired. For. Details.

I got up at 6:00 on Sunday (Easter) morning. I put together Easter baskets. And filled plastic eggs with candy. Then I made Jell-o. And boiled eggs. I got dressed and headed to church. I ushered at our early Easter service. Then, surprisingly, I got done early and decided to come home and pick everyone up so we could drive together to our later service. I arrived home with a few minutes to spare. Only to find John and Dylan still asleep. Halle was happily watching cartoons. Exactly 10 minutes before we all needed to be in the car, headed to church. 

I actually experienced an out-of-body-moment. Fortunately, sanity (Lexapro???) and/or possibly Jesus prevailed and I didn't lose every ounce of remaining sh*t on my family. I very calmly got everyone moving in the right direction and we actually made it to church. On time. Without any yelling or tears. It was an Easter miracle!

After church, we came home and I got dinner pulled together. Ribs. Mac & cheese. Molded Jell-o. Rolls. A spinach salad. Drinks. Etc. I also managed to throw some vinegar, food dye and hot water together. When everyone arrived at 3:00? We colored eggs. Then my mom and I hid eggs for Halle. (Dylan came behind her and picked up her missed eggs. He's such a great big brother!) We had dinner. On a positive note, I didn't give anyone food poisoning. On a realistic note, I've decided that ribs are better when eaten at a restaurant. But it was a fine attempt. We watched basketball. Talked. Ate. Drank. Ate dessert. Opened Easter baskets.

All in all? It was a lovely day. Was it how I imagined it? Nope. Not at all. But it was good. It was real. And I didn't give in the pressure and snap at anyone. Not one time. 

After everyone else left? We watched Parental Guidance. I laughed. We all laughed. And then, I cried. I was the only one crying. I then couldn't seemingly stop my tears, but hey . . . it was a good movie! So I put our children to bed (sob!) and edited some pictures (sob!) and listened to some music (sob!) and sat and cried (sob!) and finally (sob!) fell asleep.

 I didn't sleep well. Possibly due to post-nasal drip from all of the (!!) sobbing.

At 6:15 on Monday morning, I woke up. At 6:20, I woke up our man-child and took him to the outpatient surgery center.

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Which brings me back to our original point. Which was, we are under a fair amount of pressure right now. Our family is being stretched. My mind's version of our life doesn't always fit our reality. My heart's version of our life is seen in glimpses . . . not long weeks of blissfulness.

 But (and this is a big but . . . ) for the Grace of God. We would not be here. Here. In this abundant-often-crazy-and-messy life that we are living. This life that we are fortunate to be living. Living at all. I am forever grateful for the love that flows down from an amazing  and glorious and grace-filled God. He is risen indeeed!

He is risen when I cry at movies that are not really sad. He is risen when I am frustrated by schedules and mis-communication. He is risen when I am angry. He is risen when I pray for my son's healing.

So maybe our Easter played out exactly like it was supposed to. With the glorious risen Christ in the details. The good, the hard, the sad, the mad, the noise . . . all of it. 

Dylan was in and out of surgery in 30 minutes. We were home after an hour in recovery. He spent the day on the couch, uncomfortable, but doing OK. Do I wish that John had been there with us? Yes. I do. But he wasn't. And it wouldn't have changed the outcome of Dylan's procedure. So it is what it is. I am just grateful that we're through it. 

Living life with grace. Truly an Easter miracle on it's own!