Beyond Thankful

Wow. Although we didn't celebrate with a "traditional" sit down Thanksgiving Day bonanza, we were elated by dad's progress as he continues to fight the good fight from his hospital bed in ICU.

Having been sick the entire week preceding dad's surgery (daughters included) I literally did not have anymore "time" to take off. Although upsetting to me that I couldn't be by my mom's side during his surgery and the days that followed; we had a myriad of visitors there to provide support to mom during her time of need. And for the record, my mom NEVER asks for "help" or "moral support" - she feels it to be an intrusion on someone elses' time (the silly lady!).

That being said, you can imagine my shock when walking into work Tuesday morning, I had four voicemails from my mom. Dad had major setbacks...moving him to ICU...having brain scans to rule out stroke...getting intobated...and then the worst - "I need you to be with me..."

I didn't hesitate. I told my boss the situation, finished as much work as I could within the next hour and made it to the hospital in 62 minutes (usually takes 90 minutes). The same schedule was repeated the next day. Two days without pay: Not Good. Two days by mom and daddy's side: Priceless.

Seeing the man who has been your protector, disciplanarian and loved you unconditionally through your bumpy journey from child to woman in a bed with more than 12 tubes stemming out in various directions, and whose eyes don't recognize you as you stare lovingly into his, is humbling at best. Add his hands having to be restrained, a large tube in his throat preventing him to utter any sounds - and you've got a position you never imagined you'd see your father in.

I stroked his head (something I'd never repeat in real life due to the "awkward factor") prayed like I've never prayed before and left in time to make it to my daughters school - a mere two-hour trek with traffic. I even got pulled over the Wednesday preceding Thanksgiving. I have to say, "genuine" tears do work wonders on a state troopers empathetic side:) But as of today, 11/28, dad is breathing on his own but still in ICU - suffering from pneumonia, e-coli and various other ailments, but at least he has regained consciousness and seems to be improving every day. Even w/o the traditional weight-inducing temptations or the ever-so-desirable leftover turkey sandwiches - I will say that this has been the best Thanksgiving ever. I learned at the ripe old age of 34 what it truly means to be thankful.

White Girls Can't Dance

Josie tries to break it down in her own special way. These were videos we made before dad went to the hospital. Precious...

Decorating The Christmas Tree Before Dad Went to the Hospital

Classic Dad.

Homeward Bound...

What a week. I wish I had better news to report. Aside from each of my children suffering from a virus, followed by me, causing us to miss 4 days of school/work, I think my eardrum burst last night. I can't hear and it hurts to burp. How's that for a silver lining?

My dad suffered a major setback Friday night. He made it through his surgery well; they removed the cancer from his liver - which Doc Curley says was the size of an egg (although it was the size of a thumbnail on the MRI scan!).

My dad was lucid, and had even sat up twice - but was having some MAJOR pain in his rib cage/shoulder area, so someone added some narcotics to his epidural - NOT GOOD as over half of his liver was just removed and the liver is the organ that filters the narcotics out of your body.

The best way for my mom to describe his current state is vegetable-like. He can't sit up. He can't drink on his own. It's a major step backwards - it would be a major step backwards for anyone this happened to while being sedated.

My sweet mom, who won't leave his side, has to try and wake him when a beeping noise goes off, indicating he needs more oxygen. She feeds him ice. She treats him so warmly and lovingly as I listen helplessly on the other side of the phone, crying for them both.

The girls and I just watched an animal flick a co-worker recommended called "Homeward Bound" about a trio of animals who fight thru thick and thin to return home to the love they knew with their family. Talk about bad timing. I cried through the entire damn movie - scaring Sara half to death and causing Josephine to pat me over and over saying "Dats Ok, Mama. Dats Okay."

We have to go to my parents home and collect mail, etc, and Josephine cries, because her "popo" isn't there. I've been so sick, my house could be condemned. How can a virus last this long? How did my dad get too much medicine? Who the hell wrote "Homeward Bound?" They deserve an emmy at best.

Keep my parents (and my ear) in your prayers. Much Love.

Last Minute Prayers...

I can't beleive I just googled "Bible verses to give you strength when loved ones are sick"...A more devout Christrian would probably cite something from memory, but I'll be the first to say, while I consider my relationship with God a private one, I still need to study and draw strength from others' sayings and experiences throughout this great book.

I just spoke to my dad, who seems to have all the confidence in the world everything will work out. My sweet, consistently over-worried mom (who in this case, I can give her some well deserved slack - reality vs. "what might happen" is a definite occurrence tomorrow while dad goes under the knife) is pretty much all my dad seems concerned with, which I think is a beautiful sentiment on his part.

When a marriage becomes a partnership as it so often does following the arrival of children; romance can go out the door. My dad was not a big on "PDA" - but it was the little things - like making sure my three brothers and I were "quiet" when she was taking a nap or that I not move too far away from home after college so my mom would be happy. Her needs always came first, even if it was a subliminal undertaking orchestrated by my dad.

But most importantly, my dad put the financial welfare of our family before anything else. Everything was intended for our happiness. They say most women end up marrying prototypes of their father, which obviously wasn't the case concerning who I chose. Although I will say, after my dad met "T," he told my mom that "T" was probably the smartest person he'd ever met. Alas, brains will only get you so far...

I'll end this blog with a prayer request and also share a timely passage I though fitting for the occaision... "...if you can do anything,...help us." "If you can?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for HIM who believes." Mark 9:23

Waiting For The Locusts To Come

"When it rains it pours."

"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."

I wish these popular adages didn't apply to my life on such a constant basis, but I'd be a fool not to believe I must have done something truly AWFUL in my past to have the "bad juju" follow me like a wistful puppy dog yearning for companionship and attention from its owner.

I don't mention my "work" as I believe it is not "proper business etiquette" to discuss my 40(+/-) hours away from my children. I will say that I am a writer and editor, but for a completely different genre, albeit one I take seriously.

I have always considered my job as a "career" - which means you have passion and take credibility for all the good and all the bad. A day away from my office usually results in something going wrong and guilt on my end for not being there to "fix" it.

But when your children are seriously sick - what can you do? My loving, stable parents are usually around to babysit in situations like this, but unfortunately they have been at MD Anderson Hospital since Monday, as my dad prepares to have over half his liver removed in a four hour surgery tomorrow.

I am literally wiping down vomit off couches while praying continuously that my dad makes it through his surgery and my mom doesn't have a nervous breakdown during the process. Keep in mind, they are the sole reason we moved to this town - to have the stability and 'constant' love and support from my parents so my daughters don't grow up to be reprobates. Semi-kidding.=

But this is real life, and God has a plan for us all. I've put all my eggs in his basket and if I'm thrown some duds - I'll deal with that stink the best way I know how. Wipe it off, hug my girls tight and reassure them everything is going to be okay.

God MUST Have A Sense of Humor

As my parents prepared to leave for the 12 day stay at MD Anderson, I stayed behind helpless, lost in prayers and questioning everything about life and its purpose as my youngest bundle of joy, Josie Eats Mostly, suddenly stopped eating and caught a cough, cold and fever, which she unknowingly spread to her mother thru extraneous fluids...who am I to deny kisses and hugs when she needs them most?

So, here I sit, with a low grade fever, feeling MISERABLE, listening to my smallest daughter cough up a lung and trying to tend to her every need while her oldest sister pouts in jealous outrage at how unfair life can be...when the attention isn't all on her.

It is during times like these I "miss" having a partner. My parents have been my backbone and support for the past three years and when my mom needs me the most (during dad's surgery) this Thursday, I'll be at work. I will already be behind from missing 2 days and next week the girls are set for surgery - more days off and more work piling up. All of this while the two people who've loved me thru thick and thin face their greatest battle.

*Cue Violin* - Is it too much to ask for some good news? OK, fever starting to climb...getting a bit too lucid:)

November: The Month From Hell

Lot's going on this month, the most exciting and bone-chillingly scary is my dad's "liver" operation on 11/19. To give you some background, my dad, affectionately known as "Bill" or "Nazi" depending on you talk to (or who he talks too).

After retiring several times through out his very fortunate career(s), he made it official in 2007. It's not easy for my dad to "relax" - he's project-oriented and if he's not "fixing" something...you can see where I am going with this.

I won't make a long story too short, but after symptoms that a local doctor missed, he was sent into "the city" for a colonoscopy, which would lead to the diagnosis of a large tumor and subsequent "rectal cancer" that has been a literal pain in all our asses, especially his. After chemo and radiation shrunk the tumor, he had surgery to remove it. Unexpected complications kept him bed ridden and in severe pain for the two months and when he was "well enough" he began an intensive chemo program.

Thought we were out of the woods, but spot has appeared on his liver and he has been assigned an AMAZING liver specialist at MD ANDERSON who, on November 19, will remove a large part of dad's liver and we hope and pray it kills the cancer and the liver regenerates itself within 2 months.

While every daughter/father relationship is unique, I never realized how much I loved my dad until he was diagnosed and a future w/o him became somewhat of a reality posed in my head. Not to mention w/o my daughter's "baby daddy" (ghetto terminology for "biological father") currently playing an active role in their lives, the girls look at my dad as their dad. And that makes this situation all the more touching, poignant and devastating...

My girls will be having their own surgeries on 11/23 - tubes in (again)and adenoids out. My dad will be at MD Anderson hopefully re-cooperating for the scheduled week they think it will take, my mom by his side. I hate to ask her to come home one night so she can accompany me on the trip to the girls hospital, but I know what I'm capable of - and two children with back to back surgeries isn't on that list.

I have a lot of pride and don't like asking people for help. But I do know that my family needs prayers. Lots of prayers. So if you have read this far, I am grateful for the few words you can say in hopes of helping my dad recover quickly and healthily.

Thank You!!

Oxymorons

For some reason, I tend to notice what others don't as I also tend to NOT notice what most observe. For instance, if my mom gets her hair colored, I can't usually tell unless she points it out. If my dad mows my lawn (LOVE you dad), I don't notice until my mom mentions it.

I DO notice things that to me, seem funny or ironic. While Sara and I were at Walgreen's today, I noticed the diapers, bottles and "all things baby" were located directly across the aisle from condoms, spermicides and all things that prohibit babies from being born.

Is that poor merchandising or sheer genius? By looking at the expensive baby items and the parents whose eyes seem glazed and their appearance disheveled - the unsuspecting male or female who is buying shaving cream eight products over might momentarily pause, think about their Saturday night date and stock up on some prophylactics.

This is my Saturday night. Put a fork in me.

Prologue: My Parents and The Big "C" - Part 1.

My current living situation could be seen from the perspective as "half-empty" or "half-crazy" - either one fits. Without a "partner" I can lean on for both moral and physical support - my options are not exactly abundannt. Hence, I live next door to my parents. On purpose. My parents chose to retire in a quaint, small town - *cue* "Cheers" opening song "Where Everybody Knows Your Name..." (and you're always glad you came?). It's like high-school, but all the students are driving suburbans and keeping talley on those within their social circle. I won't lie - it's weird. I miss the anonyminity of the city desperatly; probably because I am a non-conformist and stick out like a sore thumb. But in a healthy, take-stock-of-what-life-is-all-about, kinda-way. It is definitely small-town America - but when you're completely alone and responsible for the welfare and stability of two small children, mom and dad don't sound too bad. When comparing the pros and cons of my current, god-willing "temporary" living situation, I am always amazed at where I am in life - cuz' it sure ain't where I thought I'd be when I left their home at the tender age of 18, hope and optimism clouding my eyes. The Pros: They love my girls unconditionally; it doesn't get much better than that. My mom is an AMAZING cook (I burn toast) and invites us over to eat during the week. Convenient, as they are only 200 feet away. My dad does my lawn work. God love him. He just finished his last round of chemo and has managed to maintain my yard. Superdad. If the girls get sick, they help watch them during the day so I won't lose my ever-so-precious "Personal Time" at work. You're allotted a certain number of hours each year; let's just say I am always cutting it close come December. My mom is a "worrier" - she is constantly on CODE RED in case an emergency strikes - the key phrase being "in case." These emergencies encompass anything; from the girls climbing the stairs "They could fall and break their necks!" (I am reminded EVERY time we go over there) - to the mundane, "Are the girls in the restroom? What if they find a chair to climb on and get into something?" And so on and so forth. Kinda takes the enjoyment out of my rare opportunity for adult conversations. She would have made an amazing safety inspector. For real. My dad, Bill, is a time nazi and watches me leave for work each morning as he sips coffee and reads the paper. His window shade is rolled up as he watches me try and get two unwilling participants into a car, backpaks thrown around my neck, all while I try and keep our dog from racing out the front door. He'll then bitch to my mom about me being late. I refer to this as "Living in a Fishbowl." I wouldn't trade this time I have with them and their stable influence they have had on my children for all the tea in China. While I miss the familiar and open floorplan Target used to offer in the city, Super Walmart isn't that bad. As long as you have anti-bacterial wipes and the patience of Ghandi.

The X Factor

I have received several e-mails this week asking about the "status" and "role" my ex-husband plays in our lives. While I have no doubt my ex has sincere love for his children, he has been out of their lives, aside from a random phone call, since last December. "Out of their lives" applies to both his physical presence and his monetary presence, as well. He currently owes close to $19,000 in back child support, and that is excluding his share of medical payments we were supposed to "split." It is a terrible shame that he is missing out on what are precious, irreplaceable moments his daughters exhibit on a daily basis. Obviously, I am extremely worried about the repercussions his lack of contact and financial contributions will have on my children's future. Being a "single mom" is hard enough, but to be a full-time, single mom with no "weekend help from dad" is even more difficult. But at the same time, I would never want to leave my children in someone else's care overnight. While they drive me crazy, they are my babies and I am the only "constant" they have, aside from my WONDERFUL parents, who live next door to me. On purpose. I hope that answers your questions:) And sure, there are times when I want to pull my hair out and call a voo-doo shop in New Orleans that would place a hex on his spineless, soulless, no-paying, good-for-nothing, dead-beat-dad way of evading the children he helped create… Instead, I choose to turn the other cheek, pray that God will forgive him for what he has done to his family and hope he can live with himself. But most importantly, I pray that my daughters grow up strong and proud, with a keen sense-of-self. And above all, PLEASE don't let them have "daddy issues" that play out in the form of some high-drama, high-school relationship that turns into a bad, Lifetime "movie of the week." Amen.

Warning: Flu Shots May Cause Your Toddler To Exhibit Bi-Polar Symptoms

A bit extreme, but you'll see what I mean after watching Josie's video blog, taken three hours post flu shot. I have to give props to our extraordinary ENT team who came to our small town that has one, I repeat ONE clinic that contains doctors from all walks of life; the same can be said about 70 percent of the patients. That being said, it is the ONLY office that houses pediatricians in a town of 16,000. And while I LOVE those pedis, I LOATHE their surroundings. It's like walking into a holding tank of germs and disease. By principle, I'm not a type "A" person. Who has time to be anal retentive when you're a single mom to two messy children? But I definitely fall into the "germa-phobe" category. I look like a drill Sargent gone awry when I take the girls to the clinic, literally following them around with anti-bacterial wipes, barking orders like "DON'T touch that!" and "Don't put that in your mouth!" And without fail, after each visit one of us will catch something the other showed no signs or symptoms before "visiting" the clinic. I'll stop before my soap box shoves me off the edge. I was over the moon that our ENT met us at a different locale, clean, breezy - the walls adorned with Renaissance-era paintings. The down side was the hour and a half wait. My girls don't do well in small, contained places. Sure, they have a ball, at the expense of other guests who will leave there wondering if they'll ever be able to hear again. Not to mention the magazines that got dumped over twice, the door Josie tried to escape out of three times in a row and the hysterical screams of two little girls as they finally got their flu shot. Put a big, fat fork in me.