October 7,2009…

I am extremely frustrated and more than a little crazy today. And before I can tell you why, I have to explain the circumstances leading up to all the craziness. Which entails telling the story of what happened to my father. Which I have obviously put off doing for as long as I possibly could.

But today, today has changed that. So here goes…

October 7,2009 started out like any other day. I sent Aidan off to school and then went back to sleep with Quinn. We woke up and had breakfast. I needed to go to the grocery store and so did my mother  so dad volunteered to watch Quinn. We went to the store and came home. Dad said he was kinda tired and thought he might go and take a nap. Quinn and I said good-bye and walked across the lawn to our house. A nap sounded good to me too!

I don’t think we had been home fifteen minutes and all of this sudden we heard sirens. I thought they were kind of loud and looked out the window and saw them driving down our street. I didn’t really think much about it, but said a quick little prayer for whatever family they were going to help. Little did I know it would be my own.

Quinn and I were just getting ready to lay down when my phone rang. It was my mom. She was hysterical and I could barely understand a word she was saying. She calmed down long enough to tell me that my father wasn’t breathing and to come over right away. I grabbed Quinn and ran out the front door. There, parked right in front of my parent’s house was a fire truck and an ambulance. The front door was wide open and I could hear my mother crying and begging them to help my father. I decided that it would be better for Quinn and I to stay right where we were in the front yard. I didn’t think he should see his Grampy like that. When people say that “time seemed to stop” I had always thought that to be such a cliché, until that very second. I’m sure it didn’t take very long for them to stabilize him, but at that moment it felt like an eternity. They had to defibrillate him. Several times. They brought him out of the house and down the stairs. They stopped on the sidewalk so that Quinn could see that Grampy was okay and then one of the EMT’s asked Quinn if he had checked out the fire truck. He said no and we went over to take a look. They told my mother she could ride over to the ER with them and I told her I would be there as soon as I could. I had to wait for Jimmy to get home. I must have called him half a dozen times, hysterical myself. He finally arrived home and I raced to the hospital.

I made it to the hospital in record time. And to be honest I don’t really remember how. I ran to the ER and found my mom pacing the hallway. One of the EMT’s came out and told us that my father had suffered a massive heart attack and that they were doing everything they could to stabilize him. That he needed to be sent to another hospital. We asked if he could be sent to the VA and were told he wouldn’t survive the trip. It was almost like I was watching it happen from outside of my own body. We were terrified and trying so damn hard to hold it together.

I went home to get Jimmy and tell the kids that Grampy was okay, very sick, but okay for now. My mother-in-law came to be with the kids. And off we went. At some point during all this I had called my brother to tell him what happened. But I couldn’t really say much because I didn’t know anything. It was scary.

We made it to the hospital and went to the Heart Lab to find my mom. They hadn’t really told her anything yet, other than he was being taken care of. We waited for what seemed like hours. A doctor finally came and told us that he had suffered a massive heart attack and they had had to place three stints in one of his arteries to open it. He was on life support and in a medically induced coma to help his body recover. He was going up to the CCU and they didn’t expect him to make it through the night. Every minute that he survived increased his odds of recovering.

We were allowed to see him. It was one of the worst moments of my life. Hands down. He was just kind of grey. And clammy. And he looked so scary with all the wires and tubes they had in and on him. It was truly terrifying. We were told to go home and get some rest. That if anything changed they would let us know. But for now, they had done all they could.

I’m kind of going to fast forward through the next four days to what happened next. My brother flew out and they started weaning dad off life support. He came out of it okay, very groggy and super drugged out of his mind. Hallucinations, the whole bit. Good times.

Then came the phone call that changed it all. My mom called and told me to find my brother and get to the hospital immediately. Something was wrong with dad. I called my in-laws and they agreed to come and stay with Quinn. My neighbor drove me to the hospital and I got there just in time to find out that they had to perform emergency surgery on him. They had previously placed a central line in him in case they needed it. Except instead of placing it in his vein they placed it into his carotid artery. It had to come out, or he could die. But removing it could also kill him. They said it could cause blood clots or a stroke. Again, the outcome was bleak. We went to yet another waiting room and waited for our names to be called. Finally, the doctor came and told us that he had survived the surgery, but there was another problem. He needed to have emergency exploratory stomach surgery because there was air in his stomach where there shouldn’t be. Again, the outcome was bleak. Again we went to yet another waiting room to wait for our names to be called. At this point we were almost hysterical and definitely in shock. He made it through that surgery, but ended up with an ostomy. And was defibrillated two more times. We went back to ICU where we were then told that it looked like the stints they had just put in four days earlier might be failing and he might be having another heart attack. At that point I just lost it. I literally got hysterical. I was laughing and crying and not making any sense. I thought I was going to pass out. My mom explains to the doctor that I am pregnant and stressed out beyond belief. Which calms me down right away because I am trying so hard not to be stressed for the baby’s sake. The doctor tells us that he is going to try to place him back on the heart pump, but they are going to put it in his room because they don’t know if he can take being wheeled downstairs. Again, waiting rooms and more waiting. When the doctor came this time it was to tell us that we were going to have to go downstairs to the Cath Lab afterall. Again, waiting room and more frickin’ waiting.This time when the doctor came out it was to tell us that they couldn’t do the procedure, but that it looked like he was settling down and they felt they could treat the problem with medication. He was also back in a medically induced coma and back on life support.He was also right back where he started in CCU, taking it minute by minute with no prognosis. I felt like I was trapped in this never-ending nightmare.

Now I’m going to fast forward again and tell you that he came out of it. Weak and skinnier than I ever remember seeing him. He was on oxygen and couldn’t do anything by himself. But he was alive and that was the only thing that mattered. He continues to improve every day. His doctors are amazed and refer to him as “The Miracle Man”, because they never expected him to make it. Neither did his nurses. Or the EMT’s. But he did. And I thank God for that every single day.

Now for today. My parents lost their home to foreclosure two weeks ago. My father cannot work and won’t be able to for quite some time. He is considered disabled and will be receiving a pension and SSI, but none of those things are here yet. In the meantime, they have moved all their worldly possessions into our house. And please don’t get me wrong, I am grateful that we are in a position to help them out. I truly am. But if my mother brings one more thing into my already over crowded house I may have to strangle her. Seriously.

Both times we had to move in with them all our things that couldn’t fit into my old bedroom had to go in storage. And we all had to share a room. Including the dog. And we had “rules”. I have tried really hard to make this difficult situation as easy as I could for them. But today, today was just too much. I’m tired, cranky  and resembling an Oompah Loompah. I couldn’t take it anymore. But instead of losing my temper, and being ugly, I told my husband to go out in the living room and watch the kids. I needed some time on the computer to blog my frustrations. And I have to say that I feel so much better. Serenity now, and all that.

Maybe we can make it after all.

Savin’ The Drama For Your Mama…

Oh y’all, it has been pure craziness around here for the last month. 

I am just droppin’ in to say Hello! I’m still  here! And knocked up! The baby is fine, although we  STILL don’t know if we are having a boy or a girl. Gah. BUT! Yet another ultrasound is in our future. Probably several more in fact. Advanced maternal age and all that…

Life is good. Finally. And infinitely more precious than even I realized. Love each other. Every day.

I’m sorry I am missing out on NaBloPoMo this year. And I pinky swear promise I will go into all the horrible details of why. Just not today.

The Truth Hurts…

Some of you may remember the fall of last year when we lost our house.And all the drama that came after. I won’t go back in to detail about the whole situation, we’d be here all day! I will just remind you that we had found a house to rent and all seemed to be right in our little corner of the world…

The house itself was pretty awesome, or so we thought. Your standard 3/BR-1 AND1/2BA. in a cul-de-sac on a quiet street. It had a great front yard and an even better backyard. But what really sold us on this particular house was the back deck. It was ginormous and pretty much as fabulous as a deck could get. So we moved in.

Two weeks before Thanksgiving the dishwasher stopped working. I called the landlord. I should also mention that our front porch light never worked. Which he also knew about from the start. As well as the light in our foyer. But let’s get back to the story. We also had a new real estate woman in charge of our house. I didn’t much care for her. That was about the time we began experiencing problems.

Fast forward to now. With all the things going on in my life, from my father’s heart problems to my husband’s getting his hours cut to getting my own hours reduced, we haven’t had a lot of money. We have also been taking care of two households. And we were late with our rent. Twice, I think. Our real estate liason became, bitchy and it has to be said- smarmy. My husband and I talked and decided to go ahead and give a 30 day notice so we could move out. But before we could do that, we were given an eviction notice. We were told she would no longer accept any money from us until she had every dime. With late fees, etc it became difficult to pay the full amount owed. And then it was too late. Last weekend we spent my 34th birthday and our 5yr anniversary moving all our things out of our house and into my parent’s house, or a storage unit we had to rent. Good times.

I know we were late with rent. I do realize that. But what about all the times we weren’t? No body cared that we did not have a dishwasher,front porch light,foyer light,missing screens, or that we had a tree eaten up with termites in the back yard that could fall on the house at any time, or the newest problem- the AC was on the fritz. She couldn’t be bothered with ANY of those things. She could be bothered with being an Uber-Bitch when my father was undergoing a double by-pass and I was scared and stressed beyond belief. She didn’t have any problem with that. Compassion? That was beyond her.And now another bit of bad news. My grandfather has had a stoke. A Major-Large stroke. He is in a nursing home. It doesn’t look good. I didn’t even bother mentioning it to her. She would not have cared. I already know that we will not be getting our deposit back. Not because we trashed the house or anything like that, just because she will find something wrong. The sad thing? We don’t even care. We could definitely use the money. But we are so tired of dealing with her and that damn house.

Now we are moving on to a new chapter in our lives. We will be living here for 6 weeks to 2 months. We have decided to move back into an apartment for at least a year. Where everything works. OH HAPPY DAY! And then towards the end of that year to begin looking for another house. We are also taking a financial course for couples offered through our church. I felt it couldn’t hurt! And I will be going back to school in the fall. I need a “real” job. Not that I don’t love where I work. I do. I just need something where I can actually advance, have benefits, vacation, etc. So I will be going into Medical Office Management. My dream job would be in an OB/GYN’s office.

So that’s it. End of story. It feels good to be back on the internets. I will be able to be here everyday. OH HAPPY DAY! I can get caught back up on all the goings on in the blog world.

I missed you guys!

The Bitch Is REALLY Back!!

So. I know I have said it before, but now it is really true. I am BACK! HA!

Due to some slightly weird circumstances completely beyond my control, I am now living with my parents.

Again.

Well, I should say “WE” are living with my parents. In my old bedroom. Swell times.

I promise to deliver a lengthy post tomorrow to explain it all.

In the meantime- I AM BACK!!!

As you were…

Um, yeah. I am back. Again.

Hey y’all. I know it has been way too long since I have posted anything new. I do apologize. I shall begin to try and explain exactly what has been going on. You might want to make yourself comfortable. Grab a cuppa joe. It might be a while.

We can begin with my Diddy. He underwent a double bypass two weeks ago. It went extraordinarily well. He is recovering at home now. He looks wonderful and feels better than he has in what seems like forever. He tires easily and doesn’t quite have his appetite back yet. But he’s here. And that is what matters most.

My brother flew out for the operation. I volunteered to pick him up at the airport thinking that he would be arriving at a decent time. No big. And then he informed me that his flight was coming in at 11:38. PM, people. Still, I was okay with that. I am up later than that anyway. So I head out to pick him up. My parent’s are calling me to see if I am there yet, my uncle calls to tell me that everything will be okay, and then as I am talking to my brother’s girlfriend I find out his flight is delayed. By 45 minutes. Frick. We ended up leaving the airport right around 1 AM. I don’t think either one of us were asleep before 2:30-3:00. I then had to turn around and take my husband to work at 6:00. Then come back, take a shower and get dressed. Pack the boys up and drive them to their Momo and Pawpaw’s house. Then pick up my brother and go BACK to the airport to pick up my brother’s girlfriend who was flying in from Texas. Confused yet?! I was. And tired. And in dire need of some COFFEE! We all were. We hit up Starbucks and Panera for breakfast on our way to the hospital. We also picked up a little somethin’-somethin’ for my Mama, knowing good and well that she had not yet had any thing to eat.

We made it to the hospital fairly early. We all have books. We were told we would not be able to be in the same room with him until he was back in SICU. It sucked, but we understood. And then we met his nurse. Miss Ruby. What a jewel.I said that our last name was L. and she said that we weren’t who she was trying to find. The lady next to me started talking about how the lady she was looking for had these ” two cute little grandsons she had named Nub and Dub” and I turned to her and introduced myself as the Mama of said Nub and Dub. Apparently my mother had been waxing poetic about her grandbabies. Miss Ruby asked who we were and we gave her our names. And that was all it took. She immediately took us back to where Diddy was. We were able to talk to him for a few minutes before they began prepping him for the four hour surgery. It was a little scary seeing him like that. They had an IV hooked up yo his carotid artery, just in case. His doctor came in and introduced himself to J., J., and I. He was cool as a cucumber. I was very impressed. He explained what he would be doing and answered all our questions. Then the team came in to begin prepping him for surgery. We retired to the waiting room. And what would probably be the longest four hours of my life.

I don’t know what I would have done without my Bubba. He was a rock. Truly. He fed us, made sure Mama was okay, made jokes(yeah, we are those kinds of people- we choose to laugh rather than cry) and just pretty much rocked in the free world. Please don’t think his girlfriend wasn’t completely awesome too, she was. But she also had her own drama goin’ on at the same time. Really, what is the point of having drama if you can’t have a crapload of it going on at the same time?!

So, my Diddy is home. It should be all good. Except it’s not. He can’t work for another four to six weeks. My mother doesn’t work because she watches the boys so I can work. But now she is taking care of Diddy. So I have had to cut back on my hours. Which has hurt us financially. I decided to get another job. I am thinking about going back to work bartending on the weekends, but until I can find somewhere to hire me I had to come up with something else. So I am selling Avon. It was only ten bucks to sign up. I have a website, but I am pretty sure I am not allowed to mention it/pimp myself on my own blog. Which is lame. Whatev. If anyone is interested leave me a comment and I will give you my e-mail.

And now I am beginning the process of signing Nub up for Pre-K. Jesus. Pre-K. It pains me to think about it. He’ll be headed to college next week. I am joking, but damned if it doesn’t really feel like that some days. Time goes by so fast. Seems like it was only yesterday that we brought him home from the hospital. Okay, enough with all the moopy talk. I promise.

I am okay. Just tired and stretched way too thin. I am trying to just breathe and let go of some of the more unimportant things right now. Housework would be number one on that list! Kidding. Sort of. My house is semi-clean. Just not on par with my usual standards. I look at it this way- you don’t like it, then you can lump it. Or bite me.

I do feel better after unloading all of this on you guys. I need to get back to posting everyday, for my own sanity. Or what is left of it at any rate. Thanks y’all. You ROCK.

It’s Deja Vu All Over Again…

The day after my youngest son was born my father came down with the worst case of the chicken pox his doctor had ever seen. Apparently, my father managed to go most of his life without ever having been exposed. This includes a bout that my brother and I went through when we were little. Weird.

Two weeks after the Chicken Pox Incident my husband woke me up early in the morning to tell me that my father was in the ER, his grandparents were on the way to watch the boys, and I needed to get dressed. He had had the first of what turned out to be four heart attacks. The next few days were a complete blur. We went from Wellstar D, to Wellstar C, to P Hospital. It was terrifying. Every time the phone rang my heart would stop. The doctors of all three hospitals will forever be in my debt. Especially his cardiologist from P Hospital. He saved his life.He had four stents put in. They joined the two that were put in after his first heart attack, the one that took place what now seems like a lifetime ago. The one that caused him to quit smoking and eat better. Exercise more. It gave us hope that he would be okay.

Fast forward to two and a half years later. Today. This morning. When my husband again woke me up with the news that my father was in yet another hospital. And that one of his stents had possibly collapsed. That they were fairly certain he had not had another heart attack, but wanted to run some tests to be sure. Oh, and could I not go to work today, but not tell my boss why. And maybe find someone to watch the kids, but not tell them why. And be sure not to tell any of my friends. Because no one could know. Because if the wrong person found out, they could lose it all. Which of course was my number one concern. I mean, far be it from me to be more concerned with a crazy little thing like my father’s actual health, than about whether or not someone finds out he is in the hospital with heart problems. AGAIN.

I kept asking my husband if I was dreaming. It seems like we just went through all of this yesterday.How can it be happening again? I am so tired. I barely slept at all last night because of my stupid stye. And in a few minutes I have to go wake up my mom and the boys. I came straight here after dropping my hubs off at work. Please keep my father in your prayers. I will be back with an update just as soon as I know exactly what is going on.