Home Again

      If this story was a blockbuster movie, than after I got done folding my load of laundry, Hero Hottie and I would have looked at each, blissfully happy and that would be the end of the story.
       It wouldn't take years to truly recover our relationship, but when we did it was better than before. It wouldn't take years to recover our lives and it wouldn't take years to heal emotionally from that tough time. But it did.

     We watched a movie that afternoon. And if you can believe it, we watched Nanny McPhee. It was an odd choice but the only thing available.
    And for once, I actually remembered the movie. In the nine months before the hospital, any time we watched a movie together, I was in so much pain and my brain was so foggy that I wouldn't recall much of the story at all. Even to this day, Hero Hottie will mention a movie we watched during that time and I can't remember it. It's a blank. A frustrating and ugly reminder of that time period.
    
   The girls stayed with Grandma and Grandpa for a few more days until I was ready to have their busy in the house again.
    It was the sweetest moment when they came home and their little arms wrapped around me. I closed my eyes, savoring their unique smell. Their little kid scent; freshly washed and then warmed in the summer sun.
    Their eyes were wide as they studied me, especially Bean's since she was older. Her attention never wavered off me that day, following me around, watching for signs of me being sick, slow smiles creeping across her face as she realized things were better.
 
   The next morning, when she got up; she hopped out of bed and went right for the kitchen. Just like the days before she was going to pour her own cereal; make her own meal. I was already up. What a victory. I was already out of bed and had the energy to take care of my children right from the start of morning.
    It was such a simple thing...managing to get out of bed without feeling like I was going to black out...and it was such a blessing to start feeling normal. Mundane. Routine.
    I stopped her in the kitchen and told her to sit down at the table. She frowned, sitting down, her intense focus on me, never wavering. Abu joined her, clutching her blanket but with grins on her face.
    It was just cereal. But I got it out. I poured the milk. I set it on the table in front of my children.
   Bean and Abu stared at me, spoons in their hands and for a moment- time was frozen as we all looked at each other. Mommy and daughters.
    We had gone through a dark and hard journey together. Day in and day out, just struggling to hold it together.
    And in that simple, sunny moment with just a normal bowl of cereal and a kitchen table; we all realized that we had made it through that journey.
   That we could move on to the next chapter in our lives. A better chapter.
   In that second, we turned the page...and found a new beginning.

   It wasn't easy from that moment on though. I had two wild children who weren't used to routine, schedules, and having to ask permission to do things. That summer was fairly rough as we all tried to figure out how to interact with each other.
   I was still having my bottom packed with cotton twice a day but finally the fistulas were healing and the length of gauze was less than two inches. Another small victory, which filled me with hope that they would totally heal.
    Slowly, ever so slowly I gained weight. But it about more than just packing on pounds. I had lost a massive amount of muscle mass and tone in my ligaments and tendons. It would take literally years for me to rebuild my strength and in fact, it would only be in the last year and a half once I started P90X that I would succeed at not only regaining what I had lost but going beyond that.
   But even a better benefit to the exercise, besides feeling good about the way I looked, was the fact that it helped regulate my Crohn's. I couldn't believe it. Daily, sweaty, Tony Horton is nearly killing me exercise was helping in keeping my flares under control.
 
   Our finances after the hospital were horrible. We owed over $85,000 in medical expenses and credit card bills that had been used to pay for living expenses. Bill collectors started calling, even after setting up payments because the payments weren't large enough.
    Except I only had so much money and I had over a dozen and a half different doctors, clinics, and credit cards wanting a chunk of our limited funds. At first I would send something to them every month, but it wasn't enough for them. They started adding interest and fees to the amount.
    Because adding more to the bills helps. When the hospital made it very clear they were going to put a lien on our house and take the money from us, we decided on bankruptcy.
    It was a tough decision for us. We had always, always paid our bills on time, kept our debt limited and tried to do the right thing.
    But we couldn't risk our house, not with two little girls. And having a lien of ten of thousands of dollars on it was scary. If we couldn't pay it, we would lose our house. Our children would lose their home and their only security.
   We declared bankruptcy due to medical reasons.
   

   In my head I rolled all this stuff into an image of the hospital and hated the place for it. But the hospital wasn't to blame.
   And it would take Abu to point this out. When I was discussing how difficult it was to write these pieces and how much I hated the hospital, she stops what she is doing and looks at me with the most puzzled frown on her face.
   "But Mom, it's where you got better."
    To her, the hospital wasn't a terrible and horrible place. It was the place, that she can't hardly remember because she was only three at the time, but it was the place that her very sick Mommy went for two weeks...
   And came back healed. Happy. Joyful. Able to be her Mommy.
    It's about the only thing she remembers from that time period. Thank Goodness.
    But to her it's the place where I got better.
    She's right.
   And now...I'm ready to deliver Baby Blueberry because it's also the place I'm going to have my beautiful, unexpected surprise.

   

Monday Musings...

Dedicated to a great dog...

       I had plans to post on Monday, even had the idea ready to go and then that inevitable change I've talked about before decided to make itself very known and hero hottie and I had to make a difficult decision about our Buddy dog.

       We knew it was coming, he was dying of cancer, and every extra day we had with him was a gift that we didn't take for granted. But there's no way to prepare yourself emotionally for the hard decisions. I can't go down to the store and buy a shield of iron for my heart and neither would I choose to.

       He was my best canine friend in the whole universe and his presence around the house has been sorely missed. And its the little things too, the daily interactions that weren't significant, that weren't exciting, that weren't celebrations, but they were the foundations on which our life with him was built. Saving scraps of chicken from dinner, letting him outside one last time for the night, his tail purposely hitting the mattress in the middle of my sleep to wake me when he couldn't wait until morning. It was the grin on his face, because yes, dogs do smile, when we were goofing off with him. Hero hottie would often times play a game of tag and chase with him and it was something they both enjoyed. 

        The house is empty without him. I feel tears off and on during the day and for anyone that hasn't been given the gift of a canine or feline best friend they probably think I'm crazy to be so upset about his passing. For readers that have shared in the joy of having a furry friend then they know exactly what I'm talking about. From their first purr or bark they wrap your heart around their little paws and when they die they break it. And then its especially sad because they love you so much they don't want to break your heart. Buddy kept looking at me with his big brown eyes, sad and crying but with a look of 'it's okay, Mom. Don't be sad.' He hated to see me sad. When I was upset he would come over and lay his head on my leg until it was all okay. I'll tell you I could use my canine friend right now, because my heart is sore and his unconditional love would fix it all. 

        I hate movies where the dogs die at the end. Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows, Marley and Me...Why remind people how much it hurts when your dog dies? I don't need to think about it yet here I am writing about it, doing the same thing. I think we write about them because we don't want to forget them. Because we want other people to know how sweet and wonderful our furry friends were. 

        And telling stories help heal the hurt. There's laughter and joy to be found when we tell stories of them. And they live on, in a way. I never really realized why my Grandmother still talked about her childhood dog with such intensity and love. Now I know. Time is relative and doesn't heal but sharing our love and memories does. 

        On the day we had to help him over to the other side, my child, who doesn't remember a time without him, came home with two drawings. One was of Buddy, with a smile and a curly tail and unfortunately the tumor on his leg that took him away from us. And the other drawing was an unusual picture of a geometric shape in the middle, covered with a bright yellow star that had a door drawn in the middle of it. The star was exploding with light, tons of inviting light that seem to stretch into the forever. I was instantly comforted by it and knew that this unusual picture was perhaps a glimpse into the beyond that we rarely have a view of from down here on planet Earth. It was Buddy's light and I knew he would be okay. 

        Adopting Buddy was one of the best decisions hero hottie and I ever made. It was one of those decisions that we never doubted. He was a part of the family and everyone around here will greatly miss him. And even with the pain that fogs my brain and fills my heart, I would never change that bright, sunny Saturday when we followed an impulse and took home a charming, golden colored mutt that would teach us lessons of love and lost by simply being a great 'Buddy.' 

          So this entry is for you Bud, a great dog who loved everyone he met and handed out happiness with every wag of his tail and lick of his tongue.