We’ve gone miles, you and me.
We’ve walked and we’ve wheeled and I’ve carried you.
Your daddy and I—we’ve carried you places you didn’t really want to go. We’ve carried you places we were scared to take you, but we took you anyways because we thought it could help. Continue reading
The trach is now part of our past story– a piece that, week by week, drifts farther away into the past until it is something we will marvel at like a strange, ancient artifact.
Someday, she will wonder. And someday she will ask me about her scars. So, we will pull out that multi-faceted story. We will show her its rough edges, the ones that darken the tighter we wrap them in our hands.
But then– we will hold it up to the light. We will show her the way that gem of a story glows, the way those rough edges create the most magnificent brightness. Continue reading
I turn the page to 2015. As we do with clean calendars, I look back at the old one—circled dates gone by, wishes granted or denied.
I am a different person now than I was this day last year. Better? Maybe. I don’t know. Certainly more tired.
But, I know what it means to pray so hard for something that I press my forehead to the carpet and forget fancy words. Sometimes to forget all words altogether and let God read my heart. (Romans 8:26)
Spending any length of time at the hospital is draining. Here’s the thing, though—most of the time, it’s not especially emotional. Moments come, of course, where you feel a swirling dizziness as your life changes before your very eyes. But, most of the time, we tap our fingers and thumb through books we aren’t reading and joke with our nurses and wait.
And it’s the waiting that drains.
It’s the waiting that pulls out the obsessive in me– and I madly scour old college textbooks and online medical journals and Google for information that might predict the future like a crystal ball. Continue reading
My mommy apologizes for leaving all of you in a state of suspense regarding my status. She has been pretty busy taking me to appointments/ therapy, hanging out with A, learning how to be a combination nurse/ respiratory therapist, teaching a Bible study, google searching medical journals, managing my home health nurses, thinking seriously about cleaning our house, learning how to be dairy-free (more on this later) and sitting down every once in a while to watch 24 with Daddy. (Really, she reads while Daddy watches, but whatever. They’re both happy.) Anyways, I guess we’ll cut her (some) slack for not blogging lately.
So, I’ve been making lots of progress lately! Continue reading
This isn’t how the story is supposed to go. We closed a chapter, remember? The characters aren’t supposed to walk back through chapter 1 when they are acting chapter 2.
But, K is back in the hospital.
On Tuesday, they stuck leads back on her chest and plugged her in to the monitors. They stuck an IV in the same spot above her left ear where she used to have her PICC line. They stuck her with needles and swabbed her nose.
We walked into the same hallways that we walked out of six weeks ago. Continue reading
Stories begin and stories end. After the resolving of a single conflict, fairytales leave the reader with the ever-elusive “happily ever after.” But what the fairytales won’t tell you is that “happily ever after” is its own sort of beginning.
For two months, we lived quite a story. Every day was packed full of anxieties and hopes, challenges and celebrations. Every day brought us closer to our end: home. Continue reading