Easter/Spring Break

I forgot to post back in April about my Easter and Spring Break experience.  Chris, Caitriona and Harry came over from London for Easter.  We had a great day down at Becky & Mike's house, the traditional location for Easter.  We counted and had over 100 people there that day.  The only thing we had more of was eggs.

The Wednesday after Easter, Caitriona, Harry and I set off for a fun filled day of adventure at Six Flags.  I was especially excited about fulfilling another item on my list (see previous Post of Setting Goals).  That's right, I rode the Dahlonaga Mine Train roller coaster.  It was the only coaster we could convince Harry to ride.  I nervously approached the machine, secretly praying I would fit and not have to be removed because the safety harness wouldn't snap in to place.  I thought humiliation was approaching because I got in and tried to close the bar but it just wouldn't catch.  The worker came by to check and told me to cross my legs at the ankle.  Once I did that it snapped right into place and off we went.  It was exhilarating.  I can't remember the last time I giggled so hard.  It was cold and windy that day, but the wind blowing through my hair warmed my soul.  I was happy.  I was riding a roller coaster.

We promised Harry a superhero cape if he rode with us.  He picked the Joker.  It was appropriate.

Walking a Mile

Earlier in the year my Aunt Sandi decided she wanted to do the Komen Race for the Cure at Atlantic Station.  It consisted of a 1 mile walk or a 5k run.  She's a two year survivor of breast cancer and was really feeling the need to do something to celebrate.  She, my Aunt Becky, Uncle Mike, Andrew, his girlfriend and I all signed on for the 1 mile walk and became the Pink Pack.  We all raised money and Sandi and I came in as the top two fundraisers for our team and found out just a few days before the race that we actually were two of the top 100 fundraisers for the whole event.  Out of 10,000 entrants, we made the top 100.  We were on cloud nine.  We got t-shirts with our names on them, a $25 Belk card (which turned into sandals for me), and our names were on the "big board" at the finish line.  Even though this walk was happening just two weeks after my surgery I was sure I could do it.

My brother Chris, the oldest - who lives in London, called me a few days before to see how I was feeling.  He was my top donor so I wanted to assure him I was fine and could do the walk.  I told him it wasn't that far so I should be able to handle it.  He asked how far, I answered a mile.  Expecting support I get this instead, "I paid a hundred dollars for you to walk a mile!?!"  Yep.  Sucker.  Now stop it, the money is for a good cause.  And of course it was and he laughed it off. 

I made it through the day with all the people I love surrounding me.  After the walk, Matt and his girlfriend, my dad and his girlfriend, my friend Anne-Marie, along with her mom and nephew, joined us for lunch at the Yard House.  It was a great day, at times emotional for my aunt, especially her finish line experience.  They split survivors off from others at the finish line and they get to run through a parade of other survivors high-fiving them all the way.  Watching her celebrate her brave fight got me teary-eyed.  I am so proud of her.

Now, why am I so tired all the time?

Oh the Pain!

Tuesday, April 23rd, 4:00 a.m.  I awake with a sharp pain in my stomach.  I'm talking about the kind of pain that I imagine would accompany the birth of the creature from the stomach in the movie Alien.  It jolted me upright in the bed.  I tried to stand, no better.  I tried to sit, no better.  I tried to lay back down, no better.  I tried pooping, peeing, drinking some water, no better.   After about 15 minutes of what can only be described as pain beyond that of childbirth, I go to the bottom of the stairs and call for Andrew.  Clearly my shrill awoke him with such a tone that his first response was "Do I need to call 911?"  Yes.  Although I didn't think I was having a heart attack, I knew if I let Andrew drive me to the ER at 4:00 a.m., I likely would have.

The ambulance probably arrived in 10 minutes, but it felt like 10 hours.  I was crying at this point, desperately trying to control my breathing so as not to appear like a panicked, overweight hypochondriac.  Thank goodness I had worn a sports bra and clean underwear to bed with my Capri pajamas, because there was no way I was going to be able to change into anything else.  My blood sugar was good, even my blood pressure was not alarmingly high.  I gave my history through my labored breathing and when they asked if it was possible I was pregnant I laughed hysterically, which hurt.  Mustering all the strength I had left, I told them I was only pregnant if God had chosen a wretched sinner to use as a vehicle for Christ's second coming. 

I get to the ER and the doctor meets us at the door as the ambulance is offloading me.  I quickly tell him I had a gastric bypass 18 months ago.  He asked if I had my gallbladder.  Yes.  Ever had trouble with it.  Nope.  Well you probably do now.  Great.  Can you take it out right now?  I haven't eaten after midnight so I am ready for surgery.  The ultrasound proved him right, I had gallstones, also known as gallbladder disease.  But no surgery that day.  Have to see the surgeon.  So they send me home with drugs.  Thank goodness since Andrew had to drive me home.

Two days later and just two days shy of the 18 month mark from bariatric surgery I parted company with my gallbladder, and had the same surgeon, Dr. Richard, remove it.  It was kind of like drive through (or dry cleaning) surgery.  I was in by 8:00 and out by noon. 

So it's only April and I have already meet the out of pocket expense for myself and almost the whole family at this point.  I think Gwinnett Medical Center will soon be renamed to Carson Medical Center.  At least a wing should be named for me.  Or a pew in the chapel. 

Another Crash

Well, we've made it to April now and I get the phone call all parents dread...the oldest, who lives an hour and a half from home, calls and says "Well, I'm pretty sure I just totaled my car."  WHAT?  Seriously?  Are you hurt?  No.  Are you sure it is totaled?  Yes.  Take pictures, I am on my way.

I called my cousin, who lives about 15 minutes from Matt, and asked her to go see if he was really okay.  Of course by the time I arrived the whole scene would be cleared.  Matt was shaken up but not hurt, so thank goodness for that.  But here we go again with the battle of insurance.  Fortunately, this accident was also not his fault, but that didn't automatically replace the car.

At this point I am done with 2013 and the battle of the brothers.  Both wreck their cars, both have tumor scares, and both have torn labrums.  Can I please catch a break and can they please stop competing for both my attention and money?  I think to myself...gosh, if I could only focus on me for a while...little did I know what was to come.

Lumps and Bumps

And the saga continues...

A week after Andrew's crash he took a nasty slash to the forearm.  After the game when I saw him, the trainer had wrapped it in ice and told him to leave it on for at least 20 minutes.  We grabbed some dinner and as we finished he unwrapped his arm.  I was SHOCKED at the size of the "bump" on his arm.  It was already black and blue and really swollen.  I was certain their was a fracture in there.  So back to the ER we went.  They mentioned they had seen several lacrosse players in the past week. I was just hoping they weren't going to call DFACS on me.  He got the x-ray and it came back no fracture, so just needed rest, ice, compression and elevation - classic RICE treatment.  That was on a Friday.  On Sunday after we got home from church there was a message on the answering machine from the hospital to please call the ER doctor.  So I called thinking they did a further review of the radiology report and sure enough there was a fracture.  I was half right, they had done a further review of the films and the radiologist noticed a tumor on the wrist, so they wanted to refer us to an orthopedist.  Really?  We were looking for a break, not a tumor. 

So we go see the orthopedist and they do further x-rays including the shoulder to the wrist.  The good news, the tumor is nothing more than a "birthmark on the bone" and nothing at all to worry about.  The bad news, the shoulder has a torn labrum - same thing Matt had surgery for in January.  Really?  I was looking for a break, I get a tumor, looking for a tumor, I get a torn labrum.  Can I please just get a nothing is wrong diagnosis?

Meanwhile, Matt calls and tells me that he has a lump in his armpit.  My heart skips a beat as I try to maintain composure and assure him it will be fine and ask him when he would like to come see the doctor.  Scared, yep...the armpits are where the lymph nodes are and those are where cancer is always found.  Waiting for the doctor appointment was really stressful.  But we got good news, the lump was the result of his particular brand of deodorant.  So easy fix, switch deodorant.  Now don't get me wrong, happy that's all it was, but dang, a $55 copy to learn he just needs a different deodorant...I think I should go into medicine.

Lacrosse, Crash and Burn

Continuing the saga of unfortunate events...

Andrew made the JV Lacrosse Team and I was the first parent in the stands for the first game.  I bought the obligatory spirit sweatshirt, seated myself in the stands, updated my status on facebook and prepared myself to be amazed at his prowess, talent and athleticism.  Imagine my excitement when I saw he was a captain - for the first game of the season!  My excitement continued as he was the "face-off" guy.  I cheered for our team and was still hopeful for a great season, even though we lost 13-0.  After the game he came to the stands, where his girlfriend had joined me, and asked if he could go back to her house for a couple of hours.  Sure, no problem.

I got home and within 5 minutes of walking in the door his girlfriend was calling me frantically screaming that I had to come right away.  "A lady pulled out right in front of him and he hit her.  He's crying and his car is really messed up."  Needless to say, my heart dropped.  I told her to calm down, tell me where they were and then to call 911 and that I was on my way.

I arrived within 7 minutes...which felt like 7 hours.  I might have made it in 5 minutes if my vulcan mind meld had worked on the driver in front of me when I tried to vaporize their car out of my way.  The police had arrived and were directing traffic around the accident, which had blocked both eastbound lanes.  Andrew was on the curb sobbing and one look at his car told me it was totaled.

 

I asked him if he was hurt.  He said he had a headache and his hips and arm hurt.  So I asked the police to call the paramedics.  Why did I even have to ask for that?  I mean the airbags went off, the car is totaled and he his complaining of a headache.  Didn't they know a medic was needed?  We ended up in the ER where he was checked for a concussion which was negative, thank goodness, but he had a burn on his wrist/arm from the airbag deployment.  Enough that it burned through his shirt and took the hair off his arm.  He also had abrasions on both hips and shoulder - from the seat belt, which thank goodness he was wearing.  Nothing broken though, just beaten up.  He was released with pain medication and muscle relaxers.  Over the next couple days and additional lacrosse beat downs, he was very happy to have the muscle relaxers.

Is 13 Really Unlucky?

Yes.  Normally I don't succumb to tales of unlucky numbers, but this year - 2013 - has not been great.  I've been away from blogging for a while and I am going to try and catch up this year over the next few posts.  Although 2008 was tough having lost my mother and then grandmother, this year is running a close second with a series of unfortunate events.

At the end of 2012 we learned Matt had a torn labrum and would need shoulder surgery to correct.  He talked with Target to get his medical leave approved and learned it would be covered under short term disability, so he could continue to pay his bills while he rehabed.  So Jan. 4th, into surgery he went.  It went well but of course the tear more extensive than originally thought and so recovery was going to be longer than expected.  For four weeks he was kept in a brace and not allowed to raise his arm above his shoulder, making it difficult for him to shower, dress, drive, etc.  He was miserable.  Adding to the misery was learning he would not be getting short term disability from Target.  Apparently the store he is at now had enough hours to qualify him, but they go back to your hire date, when he was only part-time, and he was short an average of 2 hours a week to qualify.  No worries, we thought, we will use his student loans to pay his rent.  So he dropped all but one on-line class so he could use the balance of the loans to pay his bills.  Unfortunately it dropped his hours and he didn't qualify for the student loan.  So he had to drop that class as well and get no payout at all.  Then, thanks to a screw up with the paperwork from the doctor's office in the timing, his medical leave was only 6 weeks instead of 12.  So he had to return to work at the end of February, after only four rounds of physical therapy.  Needless to say, his shoulder still isn't fully healed.