Open Door Weather

Just a lovely, end of the day shot when the sun was slipping low, and skimming across the floor.

Family

Ah, my sweeties. From l to r, Liz, Evan, Katie, Marshall. I had not seen Marshall and Katie since before Thanksgiving. Evan was here then, and at Christmas, with plans for Marshall and Katie to come for a visit, but Paul's heart had other ideas, along with Mother Nature, who decided to spit snow on everything. It really was so emotionally and mentally draining with Paul's stroke, that it really worked out better that the visit didn't happen until yesterday and today. We got to meet Liz for the first time, and she is lovely. Katie is wearing an engagement ring from Marshall, and I am blessed to see both of my boys happy.

We are still recovering from everything, and I am amazed at how exhausted I can be by late afternoon. It's a process. A one-day-at-a-time experience that has taught me a lot about how fragile life is, how frail I really am, and how one small thing can eclipse my perception of a normal day, and rearrange how I think about everything. Did I mention I am thankful?

Internal Overhaul

This is the box of chocolates my nurse put in my bag because my surgery was backed up from its original time. I would have preferred about 60% cacao, but that day, I was just glad to get home.

Boy have I been away. Seems when my sweetheart got home, my gallbladder decided to attack me. And it continued on until December 19 when I finally gave up and went to the ER. I had an ultrasound and they found stones...no kidding, really?...but sent me home because my bloodwork didn't show an infection...lucky me. I was told to see my regular Dr., with whom I already had an appointment on the 28th, and she referred me to a surgeon.

New Year's around the corner, I think to myself, I'll tough it out until after the first of the year, and then go. So we are in Massaponax, VA on Jan 4th, and surprisingly, I feel pretty good that day. Then the sweetheart starts having a headache, along with some chest pressure that he neglected to tell me about. With the cardiologist's urging, we go to the ER for a CT scan to rule out another stroke. That was okay, but his EKG was showing an abnormal rhythm. Guess who was admitted to the hospital? Chemical stress test on the 6th, heart cath on the 7th, and finally a quadruple bypass on the 10th. Meanwhile my gallbladder decided to start up again. But with a husband who was discharged on the 14th, minus his driving privileges, but plus 54 staples and a newly wired shut sternum, my gallbladder was given a stern talking to by me to knock it off.

I have never felt so bad for so long in my life. On February 14th, the sweetheart was given back his driving privileges, I had my surgery consult on the 16th, and laparoscopic gallbladder surgery on the 22nd. It will be 5 weeks since my surgery in two days, and I am still sore at times and learning how to help my body live without something I had every intention of taking with me when I left this world. Not to be. I couldn't even keep the stones. They now have to send them to the lab to see what they are. Wait, wait, I know, I know...they are gallstones!! It took me 55 years to make them and I wanted to at least see what they looked like. Anything after 50 years is an antique, so me AND my gallstones both qualify.

Under The Microscope

My Prince Charming had to go to the hospital. He had a stroke. One of several, we found out to our surprise. And a heart attack that he does not remember.

A hole. The size of a dot made by touching an ink pen to paper, between two chambers of his heart. A blood clot. Formed by blood leaking out into the space around that hole. A clot small enough to pass through that dot of a hole fired out of his heart and landed in his brain.

Have you ever had something happen that felt like it wouldn't fit inside your head? To process what was being said to you was more than you could understand?

That was me. To look at my hero, his communication somewhat affected by that tiny blood clot, was more than my mind could understand. He is all about missiles, guided missile cruisers in the Pacific and helping to protect our country from incoming dangers. I did not know how to think anymore. I wanted to hide inside his shirt.

But nurses, doctors and florescent lights had a way of snapping me out of my self-perceived exile. Questions to answer. When it started, what were the steps that led to us coming to the hospital, what I thought of his speech, behavior and interaction with me.

We were sort of cocooned in a hospital room that became our reality. That space felt safe, in a way. I dreaded leaving it at the end of the day, but I dreaded getting up and going back the next day. It seemed that where ever I was, was where I wanted to stay.

But. Again. Time marches on and no matter how I folded up at this trauma that forced itself into our life, I still had to do things.

The good news is, he is home. He has driven his truck, interacted with his work mates, and communicated with his boss. He is marching toward normal again, and for that, I am thankful. But I don't think I will ever be the same.

Pushing Myself

I am warming up for some very extensive free-motion quilting on several projects. I have big plans and its time to set them in motion.

I sew with a Babylock Espire, and I am going to put this machine through its paces.

Turning Season

My love is home from the Pacific. Summer has given way to the fringe of fall, and he notices so many changes that I did not see. When he left, it was blistering hot, and last night we sat on the porch and there was a slight chill in the air.

Rain was scarce this summer, but I still mowed our lawn more than he did with all the travel that took up most of his summer. That makes me feel guilty, somehow. I think he needs what I call 'lawn therapy' more than I. His world is so consumed with precision and order that to see him riding aimlessly back and forth, from the river to the house, does my heart good.

The forest will be giving up its secrets soon with the falling of the leaves. And I will enjoy it all, because fall is my favorite time of year.

And it brings back a poem that I constructed from fragments of something I read a long time ago, plus my own words,  dedicated to my sons, when they were small.

   Who painted that leaf, they wanted to know,

   My sunburned boys with eyes aglow.

   Who painted that leaf, once green, instead

   And painted it bright with colours red.

   And their eyes grew wide, with wonder light,

   As I told a tale of frosty night.

   And the coming on of fall's cool haze,

   Unfamiliar to their sun-same days.

PHOTOS/POEM©pegyates2010

River Gems

So ashamed that as much as I talk, I have neglected this blog. I want to be creative, bright, smart and funny here to entertain myself, but I need to stay focused on it for more than a minute. I have more arrowheads that the river gave me, so I will post a photo. The thing that amazes me, is that another human being held these in their hands. I know where the shark's tooth was, but I have no idea the journey of these arrowheads, and that is humbling.
PHOTOS ©pegyates/2010