Deja Vu

I got a call today that one of my best friends was admitted to the hospital. Turns out her 'laziness' this weekend...she 'rested' while we painted and moved furniture, was actually warranted. She has gall stones and is having her gall bladder removed on Thursday. The minute her Mom told me she had been admitted, I instantly felt different. I got a pain deep in my chest. It was hard to catch my breath. I started feeling sweaty. I think it was a panic attack. I knew I would have to go to the hospital to visit her. After being in and out of hospitals for 6 months, I guess you could say I am a little 'paranoid'.

Sure I've gone to the hospital for check ups with my surgeon. But, I don't have to go to the building where I 'lived' or be in a hospital room. It's actually very simple. I pull up to the Valet - get out, take the elevator to the 12th floor (but I always think it's on the 9th floor, so I have to go there first), see my surgeon, and then I'm out. Way too easy! Me thinking that I'm so 'past' it all. That I've dealt with it.

What is dealing with something? Everyone says, 'You have to accept it, and move on'. Accept what exactly? Move on to where again? This isn't new to me, I've always felt this was a contradiction. And I've never really understood how you can do either gracefully or willingly. My therapist says this to me often. I ask for more clarification to which I've yet to get an answer - or maybe she did tell me, but I have no short term memory so I have forgotten!

So anyway, as we (my daughter, Abigail) approached the hospital, I got more nervous. A place that most consider 'safe', I find haunting. So why do I have a fear of hospitals? Let me see if I can do this as painless as possible for both you the reader, as well as me the 'wannabe writer'.

On Thursday, August 31 of 2006, I went in for a routine laprascopic procedure to finish a prior partial hysterectomy. I was in at 7a and out and home by 3p. However, by that evening, something just wasn't right. After calls to the answering service, trips to the pharmacy, my 'non confrontational' husband forced me to go to the ER on Sunday morning. Little did he know, he would be saving my life for the second time - the first was when he married me almost 15 years ago, but that is another story, for another time.

When I was admitted to the hospital, they said I was severely dehydrated and my temperature was dropping rapidly. After a lot of poking and prodding, the on call surgeon came in to see me, after the insertion of a swan catheter, he noticed the red swollen area on the left upper side of my abdomen. He inserted a syringe and determined, by the looks of the yuck he was draining, that I must have a 'bowel perforation'. I'd heard of it before...didn't quite know what it meant, and had been told this was common with a laprascopic procedure, but what wasn't common was to leave an OR with one...or in my case two.

So, he scheduled surgery for late that night, he wanted me hydrated...gave me lots more morphine and alas, I was more comfortable. Chris left to take the kids clothes to our neighbors, they would spend the night there. Minutes after Chris left, a team of white coats with panic stricken faces entered my ER cubby. The only words I remember are - kidney failure, dialysis, organs shutting down, surgery now as they ran with me on the gurney.

I do remember looking up at my mom, who was running beside my gurney and asking if I was going to die. She grabbed my hand, and said, 'No f#$%ing way are you going to die. Right?' (yeah, she wasn't real convincing, especially when the doctor wouldn't answer or look at us). I realized then the severity, and although I didn't understand it, I 'accepted' it. I grabbed my sister's hand and said, 'Please take care of Chris and my kids if something happens. And please don't call Grandma Bonnie (my dad passed away on Aug 2, 2006, but again...that's another story). My sister looked deep into my eyes, staring at me and began to cry.

I woke up a month later from my 'drug induced' coma. The trauma to my abdomen was so significant that conscious I would not have been able to handle the pain. My family suffered the most during that time. My husband afraid he was going to bury his wife, just as he had buried his mother all those years ago. My children were shipped out all over our neighborhood and not able to see me at all. They would later tell me that they thought I had died, and no one had told them. My mother would have to come to terms with the fact, that deep down she did love me - ALL of me. And my baby sister, well, she realized that we're closer than even she realized.

So, that is why I HATE hospitals, and have so much distrust for doctors. I know we all make mistakes, and I know while not intentional, it was sloppy and the whole mess could have been avoided. So, when your doctor tells you, or your friend, that it's just a simple laprascopic day procedure, please ask this very important question - 'Doctor, will you be using an optical lense on that trocar or will you be blindly inserting into my abdomen (not once, not twice, but third times a charm)?'

Hind sight is 20/20, isn't it?

Strike 3 - I'm OUT!!

Even when you know something is going to happen, when it finally does, I don't think you are quite prepared for it. Atleast that is how I am. I see things pretty clearly, for what they are. I try to approach everything realistically and logically. And then it happens, and everything seems to fall apart.



I have had the most awesome job for the last 3 years and 6 months. I get to do work that I LOVE - and I get to work from home. For all you working Mom's out there, this IS the creme de la creme! I see my kiddos at breakfast, lunch and dinner! I'm ALWAYS here! I may be on the phone or busy 'hard at work', but the most important thing, is that I am HERE! I travelled 100% off and on for 3 years, so being home has been the greatest thing. But, like all GREAT things, they must come to an end!!

The powers that be, have decided that our 'division' which is really a Company for all intent purposes is going to shut down this Fall. I am one of the lucky ones though. My last day will be October 31, 2008. It has been a GREAT ride, and like all endings, it is sad. This wasn't just a 'job' for me. It was a 'lifestyle'. Working from home, in my pj's or wet hair, if I wanted, was a luxury that I never once took for granted. Sometimes the hours were longer, the phone calls later and the work grueling, but every single day, no matter what, I was grateful for this opportunity.

I'm not just sad for me. I'm sad for my co-workers and our once fearless leader. I know it probably sounds odd, but most of them I might not even recognize on the street. We have only met in person 2 - 3 times. But, I know their voices. I know their work...I know about their lives. And I will miss those interactions. I will miss this job, like no other job I have ever had.

I don't know what comes next either. This is the third time I have been laid off. Is it a sign? Is it me? Is it just that 'bad luck' that hangs over my head? Or is it just life? Hmmmmm

In The Beginning

I have kept a journal for as long as I can remember, only it's become increasingly hard to find the time to write as often as I would like. So, now I have a 'blog'. I have no idea what will find it's way onto this page. Random thoughts...and me finding a way to work out some of the 'drama' and 'chaos' of this ride they call 'Life'.

I guess some background on me might be helpful. I am a 37 year old wife and mother of 3. Chris (my soulmate) and I have been married for almost 15 years! In this day and age, that is quite an accomplishment. This is our first (and only) marriage! While we have definitely had our ups and downs...I wouldn't change anything if given the opportunity. We have grown up with each other, learned from each other and through every memory, we have loved each other. What more can you ask for from such a partnership??

And yes, all three kids are ours as well. Ryan Christopher just turned 14 this month. I have a feeling he will be a major source of inspiration (and irritation) as I write here. Abigail Catharine will be 11 next month. What they say about 'you reap what you sew', well that phrase was coined for me in her! And Jakob Mathews will be 10 this Fall. He is proof that there is a God in Heaven who does watch down on us all. And that he never gives us more than we can handle. He's not perfect, but he's a good combination of Chris and I.

I work full time as a computer software engineer. I have had the luxury of working from home for the past 3 and a half years. I LOVE the flexibility my job offers. I get to see my kids in the morning off to school and then be here when they get home in the afternoons. Most days I can do all the running around that is required - but occasionally (and lately a lot more) I find myself tied to my desk due to conference calls and meetings. However, technology affords me all this flexibility, so I can't really complain too much.

We have a sweet puppy named Presley. She's a mess...but a beautiful mess. She is so cute you almost forget how many times she's peed in the hall or pooped in Abbie's room. But, when she chews up ANOTHER pair of shoes she doesn't appear so cute at the moment!

So come back and see me soon...I'll try to start writing as often as I can. Time is something I don't have a lot of around here...but the writing is for me, so I will try to make it a priority!