Reaching the goal and drowning yourself again.

Have you ever told yourself after this one next thing happens, you'll feel better? Then, instead of feeling better you convince yourself you're drowning in an ocean of entirely different problems?

That's today.

Yesterday I kept thing that once we heard about the apartment today I would feel a lot better. We'd know if we had a place to live, we would pick a move in date, and I could start slowing packing and preparing to move in... oh my goodness... a week? Two?

But then how are we actually going to move. How much is a truck going to cost? How are we going to get both of our cars there and all of our stuff? Are we even going to, realistically, have enough money for not only that - but food and diapers? What if we don't?

I told someone earlier I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a mud pit. I can figure out how to get out of it but I need help getting all of the tools to do it. So I'm standing in the middle of it asking (and in some cases, begging) for the people we know to help us. We do have a lot of help in different places. We're fortunate enough to have people who will give help when they can. We've tried to live by that... when you have it to give, give it, so you'll keep having it sort of mentality so maybe that's why we're still fortunate enough to have people who will help. I've just had to ask for so much help lately.

But I'll have to ask for more at some point, you know?

I struggle. I feel like I've spent large portions of my life struggling. Sometimes that's hard, when you see people around you who seem to float through life so... comfortably. Now of course you don't know where they've struggled and maybe they haven't but that their own life. We all struggle from time to time and the fact of the matter is you have to choose to get through your struggles or give up. I've looked at giving up. I've held the option in my hand, turned it from side to side, examined it, and I've always seemed to choose putting it back on the self. Sure, it's always an option. To say "Giving up isn't an option!" is just a lie. Maybe it's not an option you'll choose but some of us have to look at that option from time to time and consider why it's so important to not choose it.

For today I've conceded to making two to-do lists. The short one, the kind of one most of us think 'normal' 'functional' people don't have to make. This one reads something like 1. Take a shower 2. Put on clean clothes, not pajamas, clothes 3. Start laundry 4. Clean something, we won't even be specific just clean something today 5. Finish that laundry you started 6. Take Jackson outside, go to the park, anything really 7. Eat something at some point. Sometimes I have to remind myself just to get that stuff done because the next thing I know it's 11pm, Russ is getting home and I'm unshowered, in my pajamas, and we've done nothing but sit inside all day. My bigger to-do list looks something like 1. Figure out how to pay for truck rental 2. Acquire boxes for packing and begin to pack 3. Start deep cleaning areas of the apartment 4. All of the other stuff you can't even figure out you need to do, yet. If I just stare at the one with the big, 'scary' things to do I wont even start on the smaller one.

So for now, while Jackson is awake, fed, changed, and playing I'll take a shower.

Gotta start somewhere.

Our GoFundMe Page, to help with our move.

"What did you do to that baby?" and good news about my mom.

Today is going pretty well. Some personal drama has been cleaned up and I can officially wipe my hands of it, which feels nice. I even went and got my TN tags (just in time to move back to KS, but at least my car is legal! Now to just get the lien release from my Credit Union and get my title, since my car is paid off, but hey now - one productive thing at a time right now.)

I realise more and more that depression really takes a hit on how much you get done in a day. I've been awful and slacking majorly but it's slowly getting better. Will a relocation help? Maybe. Not in any real sense like things will be 'easier' in Kansas, but maybe just changing my scenery will help me break out of this funk I've settled into since Jackson was born. He's even been getting more settled back in at home. Today he stopped screaming every time I sat him down. This has been very helpful for my sanity. Him and I even took a nap on the couch today, which is totally something we normally do. That felt good. Plus he got to try some hot and sour soup today when we stopped for lunch, I swear that kid will eat anything. I love it. Exposure, exposure, exposure! Right now he's giggling at me as he pulls himself up on the side of his new play pen. We're headed to LaLayna's for dinner soon. This is the best I've felt in quite some time. 

Jackson in his new playpen, passed out with his bottle yesterday (yeah, yeah I know it isn't good but it was the first nap he'd taken in over a week - I was taking what I could get), and all packed up to hang out at LaLayna's - look closely, mommy has 3 beers packed in that diaper bag.

My mom was moved out of the SICU today and is in a normal room at the hospital. This is great news, essentially, it means she's out of critical condition and is now really on her path to recovery. It's going to be a very long, very bumpy road but I'm sure we'll all be able to make it through it. From what I hear from my dad and sister she's doing leaps and bounds better. She was comfortable for the first time yesterday - even laughing and joking a bit with my family. She watched a little TV and even got some sleep. I can't wait to see her so I can actually talk to her because I haven't since before her accident. 

A weird thing happened at lunch today. We were eating and I was feeding Jackson as I was eating. Well, Jackson was fussy because he was tired but also tired because he needed a nap so he was going from giggling, to opening his mouth for food, to crying in about .005 seconds and just switching back and forth. I've learned a tired baby is the most unpredictable thing in the world. They're like pregnant women, ha! Anyway, our server was at the table one of the times he started crying and she looked at me and said "What did you do to that baby?". Now I realize people say this and mean it as a joke but this got under my skin and I nearly came unglued. I bit my tongue until she left and Russ asked me what was wrong. I was pissed. Here is the thing - I've been struggling with postpartum depression for months. It sort of... waxes and wanes most of the time. Right now, it's waxing. I hardly saw him for over a week and heard nothing from my family but 'what a great baby he was' how he 'never cries' etc. What has he done since I've had him? Come unglued, constantly. Screamed at me anytime I even think of setting him down. He's not napping. He's not sleeping well. So of course what am I thinking? "Why am I such a bad mother, clearly, because everybody else said he was so good - he's not good for me?" Now I know his life was turned upside down. I know that taking care of a baby for a few days, knowing you can 'give him back', is much different than being 'stuck' with him. I know that maybe he really did miss me and he's scared I'll leave him with strangers again so he's become attached. I know all of these things but if my brain thought rationally right now, I would be having depression problems would I? So when a stranger asks me what I did to my child to make him start crying it really hurts my feelings, a lot. I already feel like a complete and total failure. Even if I know that babies cry. They just do. Sometimes for reasons, sometimes for no reason, sometimes you can't do a damn thing except for hold them and whisper to them, or sing, or bark like a dog (seriously, this works for my son - I have no idea why I know this - but trust me it works) until they stop crying. 

Just something to think about, if you're ever talking to new mothers. Maybe it's a joke to you but they make take it very seriously to heart, so much so that it hurts. I learned a new kind of ache when I learned what it felt like to think you were a bad mother. All pain is relative but I can tell you - it hurts. 

I put a wrap in my hair, seen on the left of the picture. A small way of physically changing something to help enhance my mood during a time of stress. Then on the right a bracelet I got with Jackson's name. My new favorite piece of jewlery.

Home Sweet Home

It's been a few days. It's nice - because that means I haven't been sitting by myself stewing with nothing else to do but write. It's funny, because briefly part of me felt strange that I hadn't written. Like this was another thing I had made some sort of commitment to but then failed. I realized though that this is for me. So if I don't feel like writing and I don't write. That's fine!

It's been an insane few days. Russ got to KS on Wednesday evening. He literally jumped out of his car and ran over to give me one of those big, giant hugs he's so good at. We gathered up my stuff and headed to Lawrence to get dinner. We decide to eat at Freestate Brewery and headed downtown. The host there tells us we've got about a 30 minute wait so we head around the corner and sit on the steps in front of the Lawrence Journal World building. I get the text that our table is ready after only about 5 minutes and we hurry back for our table.

I'm pretty sure these two missed each other. This was during lunch on Wednesday.

After dinner, I would realize I left my wallet sitting on those steps. We rush back and it's missing. We head back to the car to make sure I hadn't left it there and it is definitely missing. We head back and check the dumpster and bushes because maybe somebody just stole my cash and ditched my wallet. Nothing. We head back to the car and start driving to Topeka. I had sent out a message to my coworkers at Pet World that if somebody called about my wallet to let me know (I still have business cards inside of it) and one of them messages me back that a lady called! We give her a call - she's at Freestate of all places having dinner and we turn around and meet her there. Russ has the idea to buy her and her friend's dinner so while I'm talking to them he finds their server and pays for their bill. She calls later and thanks us, I'm relieved.

We go and get Jackson from my sister's and head to my Granny's house. We all three lay in bed and fall asleep. I've missed them both so much and we get a decent night's rest. The next day we're up at the hospital briefly. My sister had stayed the night before and there isn't much change. They're still backing off her vent and having to lower her sedation so she's a bit agitated but they're doing what they can. We head to Lawrence and we spend the day apartment hunting. We find a place we like and apply for it. Finger's crossed we'll get approved because that's definitely the only place we found that we applied for.

We have dinner at my Grandmother's house that night. I have hardly seen them in years because we haven't got along very often. She's nice to me though and she'd been watching Jackson all week for me so we all play nice and it ends up being a pretty nice evening. We get up the next morning and we head back to TN. We've planned on stopping in St.Louis (because it's about halfway between Topeka, KS and Spring Hill, TN) and go to the zoo with Jackson. Jackson is great in the car, we have to stop for lunch at this tiny little diner but in no time we're at the zoo. It's only open for two more hours, which is totally not enough time to even see like half of it, but we have a good time anyway.

Russ showing Jackson his favorite sort of lemur! We even got Jackson a stuffed one before we left. 

The drive back to TN is long and feels like it gets longer the longer we're driving it. Eventually though we're in Illinois... then Kentucky... and finally we're back in Tennessee. LaLayna calls me on our way back and tells me my car isn't parked out front anymore and she isn't sure why. There is some panic, I shut down. This is the last thing I need but after about 20 silent minutes of staring out of the windshield I accept that I can't do anything about it. We stop, get my key from her and head home. My car definitely isn't there. 

 This is about 25 minutes away from home. It was a welcomed sight! 

I call around this morning and find out my car was towed because my tag had expired. It's $200 to get it from the tow lot. I'm frustrated and upset but it is what it is, I suppose. I can't figure out my tags until Monday but the tow guy warns me not to park back at my apartment because the manager is on a "rampage" about this stuff and has all of the cars written down so she's going to keep on this. We park it at Kroger by my house and I just concede to being glad it wasn't stolen.

Jackson barely slept last night after sleeping all day in the car and now he's not slept really at all today. He fell asleep awhile ago and I laid him down and he's already awake. He's angry and yelling and I keep going in and patting the bed to lay him back down to get him to settle back down and go back to sleep but his schedule is all messed up. I'm frustrated, but honestly dealing with being a mom is pretty welcome after missing him and my family for so long. Him and I have had fun tonight, even if he's a disaster right now. 

Jackson getting a bath tonight at home and then asleep on me after we read "Horton Hears a Who". 

What I haven't mentioned yet is my mom. Yesterday, while I'm driving back to TN. They were able to extubate her. She is breathing on her own and was even able to eat on her own some yesterday. She's responsive to my family there but when I FaceTime'd with her on my sister's phone she didn't acknowledge me in anyway. I know she's in pain and probably confused but I would be lying to say I'm not sort of... frustrated? Maybe it the word I want to use that the day I left she essentially woke up. I miss her but I'm glad she's doing better. 

He's crying on my lap now. Teething. Poor guy. Russ is at work all night so it's just us. 

When you hit your bottom you start looking up

It wasn't a lie last night that it had been the worst day of my life. It was temporary though, because today is far from it. Sherry texted me this morning and told me something a friend of hers had said to her when her daughter was in the NICU "Right now you're in the middle of it so it feels like forever. But every sunset is a celebration that you're one day closer to the end." and I had my sunset yesterday and today is a new day.

My family's favorite nurse took my mom for day shift and she had a student with her. That student is lucky she's getting to learn from an amazing nurse, I'm glad to see she's given the opportunity to teach. There is a lot as far as compassion goes that I feel like she can share. 

There is a weight off of my shoulders that she's with my mom today. They're playing with her ventilator settings but so far today has been quiet and I'm thankful for that.

I slept from about 6am until 8am and my father had called and texted me a handful of times worried. I talk to him and ease some of his worries. I know he's scared and lost with my mother gone. He's understanding and sweet about me not getting back to him right away, he understands that my sleep is weird here. 

Russ left TN at 8am after my amazing friend LaLayna made him breakfast before he left. I'm blessed to have them in my life. After our grumpy little blowout last night we've been fine today. We aren't grudge holders.

I'm thankful of the care my mother has received here. I'm glad they airlifted her here instead of keeping her in Topeka.

I go and get some lunch after packing up my things from her room. This is my last day staying here because Russ will be here by the late afternoon. My sister will take over for me in about 4 hours. 

While I'm downstairs I pick up a thank you card for her nurses (and everyone taking care of her). I write specific notes in it for the three nurses we've asked not to care for my mother. I explain that emotions are raw and I understand that no one, especially not myself, is perfect. That I understand their perceived mistakes in her care were not personal against her and that they're all great nurses who are capable and qualified at their jobs. Our decision was also not personal, just emotional, and thanked them for everything they do and have done. 

I then thanked my favorite nurses. The ones who have treated my mother and myself as family. I write a long, sappy note to them. 

I also write a note to everyone else in the hospital. I say thank you and explain that I understand it takes a "village" to run a hospital. From the doctors to the housekeeping staff. 

The front of the card I got the staff.

I feel better going to TN knowing she really is in good hands. 

The nurses just finished their afternoon assessment. There isn't much change today. I wish she would respond and follow commands but no one has ever been able to rush my mother. She will do things in her own time. While I hope that things turn out for the best in this situation I have finally come to terms with the fact that even if my mother doesn't make it life will continue on. I will grieve and have to tell Jackson stories about his grandmother I wish she'd have been able to tell him herself but I will have to be strong for my family. Jackson needs his mom just like I've needed mine all of these years and as I face loosing my mother I want to do everything in my power to keep him from loosing me too early. 

Mom's are important. I'm not saying dad's aren't. Or other family members aren't. Just, there is something special about your mom, isn't there? Maybe it becomes a bigger deal when you've had your own kids. Knowing first hand the sacrifices she made for me that I never acknowledged and she did without promise of a payoff. 

I think she knows that I love her and while I'm very sad that I can't speak to her now, I know that the last time we spoke she was excited for my move back to KS, she was proud of the mother I was becoming, and we exchanged honest and sincere "I love you"s. 

I will be okay. This will be okay. Even if at times it doesn't feel like it will be I still have a loving, supportive family. Some of whom are the family I've choosen for myself and some of them are by blood. We will make it through this together.

My mom's unit at the hospital. I've been walking through these doors multiple times a day, everyday.

I'm lonely.

Dropping my mom off of propofol doesn't work. She's uncomfortable and refuses to settle or follow commands. Today has been awful as she's been miserable for most of it. I understand medically why today had to happen but as her daughter I'm not pleased. She was hit by a minivan though, she's bound to be uncomfortable I suppose.

My sister and I are nicer to each other today. That's good at least. My dad is more and more upset by the day. I feel guilty that I'm not closer to my family during this time but those are choices we all made. None of us are perfect, I'm just thankful we try to be close when we all really need each other, even if it's not very normal. Although I think it's more that they're all pretty close and I'm the one who isn't. 

I walked to Taco Bell today. Baha Blast soda is basically legal crack so I think maybe that will cheer me up, my sauce packets are surprisingly meaningful "when nothing goes right, go left". Nothing is going right here so maybe left is what I need to do tomorrow. I've already made plans to leave the hospital. Maybe that really is what I need.

Sauce packet wisdom, like fortune cookies only weirder.

It's just hard. I hear people in the waiting room talking about not staying with their loved ones while they're intubated and unconscious like this because there is "nothing they can do, they'll need them when they're awake" and while I do understand that school of thought. I feel like while my mother isn't conscious to stand up for herself, ask for things, and understand what's happening she needs an advocate. She needs someone here to tell the nurse to get her butt back in this room and clean her off after she's soiled herself. She needs someone to cover her up if they've accidentally left her exposed. She's helpless. 

My mom is an amazingly strong woman who is more than capable of standing up for herself if we can get her woken up. While I know she'll need company I also know she will fight for herself and be okay once she can communicate again. For right now I have to be her voice and the idea of leaving her here alone is terrifying. 

My sister will come and stay with her after tonight. She feels less comfortable than I do with some of the medical stuff but I know she will always have my mom's best interests in mind. 

I've been so lonely tonight. I think everyone feels so bad for me they're not sure what to say to me so things with most of my friends have gotten awkward. I can't blame them because I'm not really a bundle of joy to be around. I switch from quiet and sad to rambling and angry as quickly as I take a breath sometimes. I've run some of my support ragged though because I've been in bad shape for months before this even happened and now it's only worse.

I'm even fighting with Russ today. In way, I'm sure this is currently the worst day of my life. That might sound dramatic but my hands are shaking and I'm so upset I can't even cry or scream. I'm just staring.  It's probably my fault we're fighting. I'm frustrated and incapable of being supportive to him. Everybody else is leaning on me and I'm buckling under the pressure. Crumbling, is maybe more accurate. Honestly? I hate myself right now. It's not rational and it's not helpful but it's true. I'm a complete basket case. I'm sitting in the corner of a hallway at a hospital that feels more familiar than my own home does right now.

If you look closely there is a balloon floating against the ceiling. I'm pretty sure that misplaced, unreachable Get Well Soon balloon and I are kindred spirits right now.

Not today, we'll try tomorrow

Last night is hard. Her nurse has the light on most of the night so I don't sleep much, this morning I get some by laying my northface jacket over my face and total exhaustion sets in and I get an hour and a half or so.

When I wake up she's agitated. Alarms are going off on her ventilator. Their trial isn't going well. She isn't able to follow commands, her head is lashing back and forth, she's taking panicked short breaths, and things don't look good. 

We try to see if she'll respond to me asking her to follow commands. She doesn't. I spend the morning holding her hand, which is restrained at her wrist, as her nails dig into me as she squeezes and pulls at my hand. This goes on for a couple of hours. I sit by her bed and try to hold myself together.

I've held her hand most of today as they adjust her sedation. I pray she doesn't remember any of this.

This morning my mom's new nurse and her student following her are in the room. We all hear loud, wet gas sounds from her bowels and neither of them bother to check and see if she's soiled herself. The student even mentions it, but the nurse doesn't say or do anything about it. I check and she has soiled herself so I go and find them and tell them she needs to be cleaned off and the pads under her changed. They do it without any issue but I'm frustrated.

I talk to a doctor later and explain my frustration with him. If I knew it needed to be checked there is no way that nurse didn't know. He agrees and he gets me the nurse manager. He's nice, although he comes in after my dad and sister are here (and I hadn't told them about this yet) and we talk. He agrees that's not how he'd like his nurses to treat her. That every nurse should be treating her as if she were a loved member of their own family. He promises to have a talk with her and leaves.

So I explain a bit more to my dad and sister what had happened. I hadn't honestly planned on telling them and worrying them about it but now they know. That's alright, they're both happy I stood up for mom. 

We have lunch and talk for a bit, my dad doesn't want to stay long because she wasn't able to be extubated today. They meet with her case manager about some paperwork they need done. She's the payee for my father's social security and he can't access any of his money without her. 

I tell my family that when my husband drives up tomorrow I can't stay at the hospital anymore. I need to stay with him and my son for my own sanity. We also talk about the fact that on Friday we are all headed back to TN so that we can figure out our move to KS in the weeks to come.

Part of me feels guilty that I can't stay but I'm not helpful if I loose my mind. I also have to be a mother to my own son and a wife to my husband. 

Maybe I'll walk down to the restaurant Ande and I ate at last night and get a drink, I want to see how she does after they backed off her one drug to see if the other has taken effect. They had to because her blood pressure started to drop. I want to be sure she's going to be comfortable before I leave though. She can't tell them when she's uncomfortable so she needs someone here to advocate for her. Plus, poor thing is having hot flashes so I've been putting a cool washcloth on her forehead all afternoon. Once she's quiet I'll either nap or head out for a walk.

Took this earlier on a whim. My reflection on the ceiling outside the SICU.

4 plates, lots of screws, & a dinner date.

My mom's surgery was a success. I feel like I need to start this post off there. Whew. Another step forward. The surgeon described what they had to do to fix her elbow and shoulder. It was intense. Once they had the X-rays I'll post pictures, it sounds insane from the picture he drew us, but I'll get to that later.

After my last post I walked back to the hospital. Stopping at the bookstore to buy my son KU onesie now that we will be living back in KS, gotta represent. After that I headed upstairs and met with my family. It had already been a couple hours and we hadn't heard anything but , you know, we were expecting 5+ hours in surgery so that wasn't surprising. I tried to lay on the floor with a blanket over my head and sleep but another family in the waiting room was just too loud. I wasn't mad, it's a public space, not only that but her husband was in a head on collision and may not make it. She and her family could be loud, but it meant I couldn't sleep. After a bit I crawled up onto two chairs I pushed together and briefly ( I'm talking 15 minutes ) fell asleep before I was woken up again. Eventually, I gave up. My dad and I talked a bit, but things continued on their tense, quiet path. 

Me on the floor under my hospital issued blanket. Grumpy everybody is so loud.

After a bit a nurse comes in and gives us and update. Her elbow is done and there is at least an hour left on her shoulder. The time goes by slowly but eventually we're asked to wait in a small room to talk to the doctor.

This makes all of us nervous because every other time the doctor has just spoken to us in the waiting room. So, we sit and wait and finally in he comes with a smile on his face. Things went well, he shakes our hands and then I realize suddenly, with an inward chuckle, why he wanted us to in that room. 

There is a whiteboard. He wanted to draw for us how he fixed her arm and where her bones had been broken. We sit and watch. He uses a black marker for her bones and a red marker for the breaks and explains how and why they put it back together the way they did. She has 4 plates in her arm now and I didn't even try to count the screws at the time ( hint: it was a lot ). There was even a piece of bone he left alone and he hopes will heal on it's own. 

We thank him and go back to see her. Deb, my dad's favorite nurse, has already settled her flowers back on her bed next to her and is drawing some blood. My dad hugs me, then Deb, and heads outside. He's exhausted and tired but needed to see her before he could leave. 

My sister stays for a bit. Things are still quiet and tense. She tells me she envies that I'm displaced from my home and just staying at the hospital and... Before I let her finish I interrupt her "you shouldn't" I snapped. She'd said something similar earlier in the day that had rubbed me wrong and her saying it again sets me off. She apologizes for upsetting me, she gets that I'm grumpy and upset and I tell her I just really didn't need to hear how much she envied me right then. 

It's quiet for a few minutes until she tells me maybe she'll see me tomorrow and she walks out shaking her head and clearly upset. She texts me later and I'm a jerk who didn't respond because I'm still too upset to say anything nice. 

I know she loves me and that her mom is in the hospital too and everybody is tense and upset. Honestly I wish both of us had handled the situation better but it's over now. I'll text her before I go to bed tonight, as soon as I know I won't instigate a fight with her. Neither of us need that.

In the midst of my minor blow out with my sister Ande, my good friend, texts me to ask if I still want to go to dinner and my answer is absolutely yes. She heads this way and right after my sister leaves, I leave too.

She picks me up and we drive a couple of blocks to Blue Koi, an Asian restaurant that she's been too and has been featured on TV Shows. We order bubble tea and way too much food and we talk and eat and I vent. My sanity is temporarily restored afterwards. 

Crunchy tempura veggies, dumplings, and seafood soup - YUM! 

Currently I'm back in my mom's room. Nothing going on tonight other than her resting. Tomorrow may be another really big day when they try to get her extubated. I hope my mom is still in there. I need to go home on Friday. To lay in bed with my boys and cuddle. To bribe a shoulder rub from my husband and see my cats. My mom is a strong woman, once she's awake she can do a lot of her own fighting at the hospital but while she's sedated so heavily like this nobody is here to speak for her if I'm not. That's why I'm here. If she can wake up and breathe on her own this week I can go home and rest a little easier. Maybe that's selfish, but everyone is selfish sometimes. Plus I want her to get better for both of us - really all of us - because my entire family loves her.

Get better mom. 

One of our favorite nurses decorated her door with flowers while she was in surgery. 

Struggling with anger today.

Monday my stress level hits the ceiling. I thought it already had but the day is only part of the way over and I'm drowning. My mom's nurse last night turned on the lights everytime she and into her room (hourly) so I really didn't sleep last night. I haven't laid in a bed in 5 days. I haven't seen my husband in 7. It's been a week since I've been home and part of me wants to ignore moving again and go back to TN to hide.

My sister, who is older than I am, and I haven't always got along. Honestly, there have been lots of times we haven't. If I were being completely honest I think I get frustrated and upset with her more frequently than she does with me, too. I'm not saying I don't love her but the differences in our personalities sometimes feel about as good as a cheese grater across my face. I've been annoyed with her today. She probably knows it, knowing her she forgives me because on some level she knows that I'm stressed out. She mentioned that being at the hospital would be easier, after I told her what my Granny had said last night about dying, and I nearly came out of my chair. She's upset too though. Her mom is also currently in her third surgery in a week which is expected to last around 6 hours. I'm currently avoiding her in an attempt to cool off and stay friendly.

Today they're trying to fix her shoulder. There is a serious, complex fracture as well as the joint is dislocated. The orthopedic surgeon isn't sure if he will have to partially replace her joint or not. If that goes well they'll also be repairing the compound, very complex fracture of her elbow. Let's hope they're able to safely do both today.

The anesthesia nurses again wheeling my mom back for surgery.

If today goes well they'll be attempting to get her extubated tomorrow. That's an entire other fiasco. She's incredibly agitated everytime her sedation gets light but who wouldn't? She's lost an entire week of time,  she has to be in extreme amounts of pain, and she's probably terrified. I just hope she is able to breathe on her own. I hope that my mother is still somewhere in that body when she's able to be conscious. 

After they took her to surgery (as I write this that was 2 hours ago) we headed off for lunch. We ate at Five Guys, which happens to be one of my husband's favorite places. I miss him so much. Through my depression after Jackson he's been my rock and now he's 700+ miles away. Working, so we can still pay our bills. I feel like I'm never going to see home again. 

Yep, another food pic, what can I say? This is all an elaborate method of coping.

Russ and I spoke on the phone for awhile  but we are both stressed and lonely. To say we got into a fight wouldn't be accurate, we just weren't being very nice so we decided to get off the phone. We are a couple that works out our differences physically (and I don't mean domestic violence, but it's definitely not PG either) so being so far away is very straining on us. I haven't decided what to do while her surgery is still in progress but I think my lack of sleep may be my biggest issue currently. Maybe I'll try to take a nap in the waiting room again. After yesterday leaving the hospital while my mom is in her room feels daunting and impossible so I know I'll be staying again tonight. 

This is a big teaching hospital so every morning and evening the ward doctor walks around with all of his residents and they discuss every patient in detail, bouncing ideas off one another. I call them "baby doctor herds" because you also see them following doctors in the hallway like baby ducks following their mother.

Reading the signs & the nipple thing.

Sunday starts like most days at the hospital. A nurse in my mother's room suctioning out the ventilator tubing helping her breathe. Checking vital signs. You know, doing their job. She's nice, we hadn't met before, her name is Tiffany and she goes over her plan for the day. 

They're going to pause her sedation and try to lower the settings on her ventilator and give her lungs a better chance to practice breathing, which they have to do before they can extubate her next week (fingers crossed). There is also a CT scan ordered around noon to make sure the blood thinners they've put her on haven't caused any problems with the slight bleeding she'd had in her brain after her accident. 

So I take a breath and make a hard decision to go ahead and leave the hospital for the day. 

I drive the hour to Topeka to see my family. I take my first shower since Tuesday morning, I get to see my son, who I like to think had missed me, and our family plans out a day to distract ourselves. Plus, we all want Jackson to have some fun - he's also been stressed and displaced through all of this.

The first plan is Tortilla Jacks. This little hole in the wall Mexican food place is my favorite place in all of Topeka. I've been craving it for months in TN (complaining at length on the phone to my parents about how much I want it). I get a ham burrito. It's as amazingly awful as it sounds - deli meat ham chopped into pieces put into a burrito with red sauce, cheese, and beans then covered in sauce and melted cheese. I have no regrets about my food binge.

The aftermath of my ham burrito. It's the most amazing thing that should totally be gross but just isn't. Plus, my mom hooked me on them.

After TJ's we head to Gage Park. The plan there is swinging and more importantly, the zoo. My sister, her husband, Jackson, and I beat my father there so we hang out and swing for awhile. That boy loves to swing.

I took this right after swinging . He's so adorable. 

We see my dad pull in and we go to the zoo. We have a nice time, it's cub scouts day so there are tons of people there but that's alright. The zoo has 3 baby tigers , who we get to see playing with their mom. This kills me because tigers are one of my husbands favorite zoo animals. I promise him I'll bring him there soon. I can tell he's very upset and lonely and misses us as I send him pictures and videos of our adventure. My son is amazing and doesn't fuss at all. We leave after seeing about 75% of the zoo. We are all exhausted, including Jackson. 

They were incredibly cute but this too reminds me that my mom is in the hospital.

I have pictures of myself ontop of that statue, though my sister cut it out of the frame in this picture. 

Fast asleep right after we got to the car.

We head back to my sister's and I give Jackson early dinner. We hang out for a bit, the mood is strange and quiet. I decide to head back to the hospital, hug everyone then kiss Jackson. I'll see my sister and dad tomorrow for mom's surgery.

On the way back I stop at my Granny's and we chat and hang out. She tells me she's scared God will take her before my mom is better and she won't get to see her, plus then my mom will hate herself for not being there when she goes. This breaks my heart. 

Finally, my aunt who lives in Australia calls and I say my goodbye so they can talk, I need to get back to the hospital anyway.

On my way back I call LaLayna, my best friend in TN. We've hardly seen each other or talked in weeks with all of the drama in my life. We talk and I vent. I realize I'm moving in a matter of weeks now and I won't be at her house for dinner every week. Jackson won't get to see Murphy (her amazing dog) and that whole thing starts to upset me. 

Jackson and LaLa's amazing dog, Murphy. I'll miss LaLayna more but gosh her dog is cool!

After we hang up I'm again consumed by guilt that I left the hospital for the day. The closer I get, the worse it is. I park and head up to my mom's room. I have no idea my entire evening is about to explode but I suppose that's what things under pressure have to do eventually, blow off the steam. 

The second floor SICU is my home-away-from-home it seems.

The doors are closed to my mom's unit, which is more unsual than not most days, so I try to call back to be let in and nobody answers. Somebody opens the door with their badge and I sneak through behind them. When I turn the corner into mom's room my heart stops. 

Her curtain is pulled back and her gown is haphazardly hanging down and displaced so I can see the nipple on her right breast. I loose my cool. I cover her up and stand in the doorway, fuming, waiting for whoever her new nurse is. 

A man down the hall makes eye contact with me a couple of times and ignores me, finally a different nurse sees I'm upset and asks what's wrong, I go off on her. She gets my mom's nurse, who is actually that same man just down the hall.

He has a thousand excuses as to what must have happened. It's shift change, he hasn't really gotten to her yet, etc. none of it matters to me because that's my mom and she isn't to be treated like a body lying on a bed. She's a person. A wonderful, amazing person who takes care of everyone and nobody was taking care of her then. I'm overwhelmed now by guilt that I left her.

The nurse, Jay, tiptoes around me. Terrified? I think. Because I'm sobbing and angry and clearly his excuse hasn't eased my feelings. 

Another nurse comes by, because somehow my mom's call switch had been pressed, and she notices something is wrong. "Did you come down with a cold, honey?" She asks as I'm blowing my nose in the corner. My answer can only be described as emotional vomit. I tell her that I've been here for days and the first time I leave I come back to this. I'm upset about a million other things but this has sent me overboard. She asks Jay to leave and she goes and gets me their boss for the evening who happens to be my absolute favorite nurse from the night before. She's also an older lady and she treated my mom as if she were her own mother. I tell her what happened, still sobbing. By this point my "rage" is a sobbing apology that I got so mad and so upset. They're kind, she switches my mom's nurse while the other woman stays with me and talks to me to calm me down.

I meet her new nurse who is young and nice. I'm also sure she's been told what just happened so she's incredibly kind to me and understanding.

Now I don't think anything inappropriate happened to my mom. She can't even really wear her gown because she's attached to so many tubes and wires and if I had to guess the entire thing was just a complete accident. I decide to not tell my dad about it when I call him for his update. He hears that I'm upset and I tell him it's just the runny nose I've started to get. Maybe he will read this one day and if so I'm sorry dad, I didn't want to upset you more because trust me I was upset enough for the both of us. 

In all of this I realize my mom's hair has become a total mess from being bed ridden for a week. She has a small mat on the back of it which I cut out and I spend some time brushing out her hair. I've been afraid to touch her much but I overcome this to do this small thing. A small thing that feels awful. Brushing my mom's hair, like she did for me when I was a child, makes me realize how helpless she is right now. I avoid the staples they had to put in her head and get her hair brushed. Afterwards I'm glad I did. Somehow she looks more comfortable. 

Now I'm not incredibly religious, at least that's what I tell people. Maybe I don't even believe in "God" as some people do. I don't attend church (and never have). I have read the bible a time or two. I believe in Something though. A lot, actually. Today two things happened that reassured any doubt I've had through this. 

First was when I was coming into the hospital earlier. I turned on the dome light in the car I'm driving to gather my things. I get them together, lock the doors, and go to head inside. The last thing I had grabbed was my dirty sweat pants incase I got cold and as I'm walking to the exit of the parking garage my panties from yesterday fall out of them, I pick them up, turn around and realize I had left the light turned on in the car. I would have ran the battery out. 

Thanks up there, I didn't need that ontop of everything else. 

The second was my mom's call light being on to call that other nurse into my mom's room. I can't remember her name but she was, literally I believe, called by Someone to help me tonight. I needed that, too.

Well it's 5am and I've hardly slept. It's been a rough night and I'm nervous about surgery today. My husband is stressed and upset and I miss him. I want to be able to go home on Friday and I feel selfish for feeling that way.

I hope surgery goes well today. I hope this week goes well. Right now all I can do is rest at her bedside. 

My moms fluids, along with her sedation, and pain medications are all run by this pump.

Work is a welcome break.

On Saturday my mom's situation continues to be quiet. Her chest tube is to be taken out, but a feeding tube is to be placed. At least were staying at the same number of tubes, right? Not just adding. We will know sometime today if her lung stays inflated or if it collapses. Fingers crossed.

Early afternoon Saturday though my boss  sends a message that there is an open shift in small animals and one in reptiles that needs filled. That means the staff is looking at a Saturday without trained employees in primary zones! I offer to work, provided sweat pants won't be a problem, and my boss excitedly takes me up on the offer.

Work has become a welcome break from the hospital. I talk to my father, ask him if he's okay with me leaving for a few hours, the shift is from 5pm until 9pm and I will come back to the hospital after. Because her day has been so quiet he aggrees I should spend some time away from this place and encourages me to go. 

I pack up and head to Lawrence. It's about a 30 minute drive from the hospital, to get to where my family is - Topeka - is another 30 minutes past Lawrence. 

In Lawrence I park at Pet World and walk in like I've done hundreds, no, thousands of times before. I don't know all of the new staff, but most of them know me. I settle in, orientate myself and jump right into work. 

Small details are different but this is the job that taught me "I don't know, let's find out!" I spend the evening making jokes about how it's been nearly 3 years since I've worked on the sales floor, but I had done it for 5 years before that! Some customers recognize me, squinting their eyes as they look at me "you still work here?!". I'm hard to miss with my large, bright forearm tattoos. If you ever want to stay anonymous, don't get tattoos kids. 

I reveal my mom's status to a handful of customers. Some I know, some I don't. There are hugs from strangers and promises prayers from friends. Without working at Pet World yourself it's hard for anyone to understand but 90% of the customers there are like family. We are a big community who cares about one another and supports each other. Even customers I've never met who care about the store so deeply treat me like family. I'm awash with a renewed sense of encouragement that moving to KS isn't the wrong decision, I've always felt like I belonged there.

The night comes to a close and I've sold countless dozens of dusted crickets. I've given advice on owning snakes, cats, dogs, birds, and fish. Plus I've helped a 7 year old boy hold his first snake. His scared, shaking hands reaching for it and his excited, proud high five after he's done it somehow remind me of my son and make me miss him as I write this. 

We are back at the hospital now. Emotionally I'm worn down. I cried on the phone with my husband for really no reason on the way back to the hospital after convincing myself security wouldn't let me in to see my mother and being racked with guilt for leaving her, even if it was for my own sanity. Russ talks me through my evening and eventually I fall asleep to him humming to me on the phone.

I miss home so much. I miss him terribly. I miss my mom and my son and my bed and my four stupid cats and I miss feeling sane. 

For tonight I'm thankful my mom's nurse is so kind and caring. I've seen her in the SICU all week and this is the first time she's been with my mom. She honestly treats her as if she were her own mother. While I don't get much sleep in the hospital, I'm sleeping a little easier knowing she's caring for my mom tonight.

Me at Pet World, working on the sales floor, for the first time in about 3 years I think?

"Mom and Molly were hit by a car..."

On Monday, September 8th I received a call from my older sister, Misty. "Mom and Molly (who is my Granny's dog) were hit by a car today, Molly is dead and mom is in the hospital with broken bones."

Wow. Alright, take a breath Megan. 

Now on a normal day that frantic phone call would have been a kick in the stomach but to really explain just how hard it hit me I would have to tell you about the weeks and months before this phone call.

My son had just turned 7 months old 2 days prior. In those 7 months I had been struggling (and at times, losing) to postpardum depression. It took me months before I even realized my level of depression wasn't alright. The problem is that everyone tells you that your feelings of doubt, of regret, of occasional dislike of your perfect, newborn child are normal. Maybe they are normal, but most people are so quick to tell you they had the same feelings with their kids they don't stop and ask the questions. How suffocating are these feelings? Do you cry everytime you're alone with your child? Maybe the feelings are "normal" (whatever that even means) but I can tell you the frequency and intensity of my feelings weren't alright and it took months of struggling with the thought of "if this so "normal" why can't I handle this?". 

In early August I had a wake up call. I won't go into details here, because things are still raw, but I had a moment where my stomach dropped and I realized suddenly that my feelings may be normal, in moderation, but my depression was dangerous and I had to turn things around. I will tell you that I never harmed my son. My problem was with how I was treating myself.

So, recently realized postpartum depression - check.

Then on August 30th my mother in law is in a bicycle accident training for an IronMan competition while my good friend is staying at our house. She has a skull fracture and ends up having brain surgery. My husband, good friend, and infant son move into her house for the weekend to take care of his younger siblings. His mother bounces back quickly and is home early September although she has lots of restrictions on things she can do she's surrounded by love and support from a huge community of friends and family. Some other family drama happens during this time, but it would be rude of me to air that here.

Husband a mess with his family in turmoil? Check.

So all of this is already piled ontop of me when my sister calls to tell me about my mom.

Okay, breathe. 

Mom was hit by a car. I call my husband, tell him we may have to drive to Kansas. ( did I mention I'm in Tennessee? Because that's where I live. )

Then my sister calls again, she's being airlifted to a different hospital because her broken bones are more serious than can be handled by that hospital, specifically her pelvis.

Now I know I need to be in KS, like, an hour ago. My husband and I make some frantic calls and Jackson (my 7 month old son) and myself board a flight to Kansas City at 8:40pm the same night it happened. My good friend, who has just been in TN during my mother in law's fiasco picks us up from the airport and drives us straight to the hospital.

My son, Jackson, 7 months old, during his first flight. He didn't fuss once and mostly cuddled up on my lap and slept.

At the hospital there is chaos because they say my mother isn't admitted there, though the original hospital tells us her transfer was confirmed and my father even received a call that she was currently in surgery there! Come to find out, trama patients like my mother, are first admitted under false names incase they were victims of intentional violence. Security eventually let's us into the building and our family sits and waits.

My mother's fake identity on a sticker they used to label her dentures. 113 year old Zac Russiazac. 

The air is strange while we wait during her first surgery. My sister had visited me in July but my mother and father haven't seen me since February. There is excitement to see me and especially Jackson, even though the mood is also somber, given the circumstances. We are all in shock and a bit of denial as we wait for news. 

Around 1am (I think) we finally hear from the surgeon. Surgery went alright, all they did was clean the compound fracture of her ulna (just under her elbow) and put the bone back inside and closed things with a drain. They haven't fixed the break, the orthopedic surgeon will do that later. They've also put 4 staples in her head.

We get to see her briefly in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. She's heavily drugged and still groggy from anesthesia. She has no idea who I am.

Jackson, my friend, and I go to her house and sleep. My father stays overnight next to her bed.

The next day she opens her eyes once and knows who I am. "Meggie Moo, my baby" is what she calls me. This is the only time I'll get to hear my mother's voice for at least a week.

The next morning she pulls out her IV lines. Slaps a nurse and lands herself intubated and restrained. She's developed pneumonia in her lungs, one of which is collapsed, her white cell count is climbing, and the enzyme they look for in heart attacks is present in her blood. 

Surgery is canceled because she's not stable enough. 

So far, this is my worst day. The slip backwards is terrifying for all of us. Emotionally I've completely lost it. I spend chunks of the day sitting near a large window I found, talking to my husband on the phone and sobbing. Monday I knew things were bad but the realization my mom really might not make it through this hits me like a brick wall. I had to face it head on, because if I didn't, and she did? I would have been lost. So I spent the day staring straight at my mother's death and come to terms with it. 

I've started to stay at the hospital by this point. My family is rotating around my son's care. My sister has him at night and if my sister is coming to the hospital my Grandmother watches him. We all agree this isn't a safe place for him to visit. They do come up and have dinner with me one night. Even with postpardum depression I miss him like crazy. 

During our dinner date, I'm so in love with this little man. I had never been away from him for so long. 

On Thursday we take a baby step forward. Our white cell count is decreasing, our lung is inflated again, they believe that her pneumonia was caused from aspiration into her lungs during the seizure she had directly after her accident. They decide on a single antibiotic to use and we wait through the day. By evening she's on the surgery schedule for the next day to begin repairs on her pelvis. 

Friday is another tense day of waiting at the hospital. It's my parents 33rd wedding anniversary and my father has always given my mom yellow roses, though they're not allowed in the SICU. Instead he buys her fake ones and places them on her bed and sings to her before surgery. We all talk to the surgeon and I wait with her until they wheel her from her room to go back.

Anesthesia nurses wheeling her back for her surgery on Friday 9/12, my parents 33rd wedding anniversary.

My father's flowers - her nurses have made sure they've stayed at her side.

We decide to go have lunch out of the hospital because her surgery would be a minimum of 2 hours. When we get back, I sleep on the waiting room floor. My sister hears that surgery is going well and they have an hour left about two hours in. After awhile the doctor comes out and gives us the news we wanted to hear. Surgery went well. He was able to repair her pelvis with 5 small incisions, she had minimal blood loss, there are now two plates held onto her pelvis with pins, and three screws holding it all together. It's stable though and he's pleased with how it went. We are all hopeful her next surgery will be Monday to begin repairs to her shoulder and elbow, both on her left arm.

Her new pelvis. She's going to love metal detectors after this. 

I promise my father I will stay at the hospital until she's extubated and coherent. This is a terrifying promise because I have no idea how long that will take but my family aggrees that I'm the best person to be here for her. 

Today is now Saturday, the day after her second surgery and it's been a quiet day. She's still on a ventilator to breath. There are still lots of fractures that need to be fixed in surgery and countless more that will have to heal on their own time. I hear her chest tube may get to come out today and her vital signs have all been good. She is tentatively on the surgery schedule for Monday morning, we just have to see how the weekend goes. 

I love my mom and maybe I haven't told her that enough, I guess it doesn't matter now. I want to see her dumb smile and let her see her only grandson so badly. I want to listen to her bitch and complain about being in the hospital, or that rehab is hard. I want to be exhausted in the months to come helping to take care of her while still taking care of my son and helping with my Granny and Father. I realize that inconvience should almost be treasured because it means your loved ones are there to cause it. Things will not be easy but I got my stubborn, pain in the ass attitude from one of my favorite women in the world, my mom.

A bag of blood hung for one of my mom's transfusions, we are both O-.

Her ventilator tubing to help her breathe through her lung infection.

The view from the chair I'm sleeping in. The amount of tubes and wires connected to her is overwhelming at times. 

Her restraint is scary but needed because she tries to rip off her IVs and tubing anytime she stirs from her sedation. It's hard to see.

A chest tube, suction from her stomach and lungs, as well as a urinary cathedar are among the tubing attached to her. 

An old photo of me and her while my sister was trying on wedding dresses. When I made her Facebook (as I was moving to TN so she could keep up with me and the pictures I post) I used this as her profile picture, she's never changed it. (Probably because she wouldn't have a clue how to, but we will pretend it's because my awesome face is in the pic.)