Horrible Nightmare

Last week I had to go to the doctor for my hip.  While I was there, something horrific happened.

B was badly injured training at a live fire drill.

One minute we were texting each other about my hip, he said that he had to go drill, next thing I know my phone was going crazy as he had fallen trying to force open door as part of their training. When he fell he broke his leg.

Seeing the text that he was hurt but not knowing what was happening was terrifying. Not being able to help was frustrating.

As a mother, my job is to fix things. Make things better.  There is nothing that I can do to help him. Nothing I can do to make it better.  All I could do was go there and be there.

The break was bad enough and in a place that required surgery, I have had a lot of surgery, but waiting for someone to have surgery is something I have less experience with.  Sitting there, watching the screen with his case--- waiting for screen to advance to "surgery complete".

B's job has always scared me- I love and respect what he does, but it scares me.  Because he could so quickly be injured. Nothing is a guarantee.  Every time we talk we end it with "I love you, be safe".  I will not let him off the phone until he replies "I always am".

It has been hard for the kids- he is like superman.  He comes and fixes things and saves the day. His job is actually to save people.  He is not here a lot but when he is he is fantastic with them.  No one gets a better welcome than when daddy gets here.

Truth be told, I am a little jealous about how the kids are so interested in helping him. When I get hurt or have surgery nothing changes, the requests keep coming: "mama what's for dinner??" "where is my shirt?" B gets hurt--- totally different story- they are all over him helping.  Which, honestly is good.  He is dad- and a pretty darn awesome one.

Seeing the message that B was hurt was the most horrifying thing. My stomach dropped a million miles, I started sweating, I was sick to my stomach.  He annoys the crap out of me and irritates me beyond belief, but I love him.

When the doctor told me that he did need surgery, I got light headed--- and its not my leg! A doctor can tell me I need surgery and that is fine, I can deal, but not someone I care about, that makes it scary!

I do have new respect for what B had to endure in the waiting room for me- my surgeries were much longer and I have no idea how he managed.  Being the one unconscious is much much easier.

When he is better, I will have to find something new to say other than "I love you, be safe" because much like the kids-- he clearly doesn't listen.

I am thankful that he will heal.  I am thankful for my sister who saved the day. I am thankful.

I am running out of spare parts

I do not have: wisdom teeth, appendix, and one kidney.

Soon I will also lack a gall bladder. Apparently it has been acting up for a while and I just started to tune into the issues since I was no longer in pain from an obnoxious kidney.

I have to schedule its execution date at some point and I really really am not looking forward to it.  I hoped to be done with surgeries. 

In talking with my surgeon I joked that I am running out of removable parts- soon I'll be down to the bare minimum for functioning.  He laughed and said he and his colleagues had a bet going to see who could remove the most parts from a person and still have a functional life. I rolled my eyes so hard. 

Well this is awkward still.

There have been some big changes around our household since the summer.  That are leading me to the conclusion it is time to move. 

I have talked about some of the awkwardness in our neighborhood after the DCFS spat of the summer.  I am worried about the summer.  Really worried.

We have started considering moving.  The DCFS thing is part of the reason we are seriously considering moving.  We do need more space and another bathroom.

Our neighborhood is great, and I adore (most) of our neighbors.  We have great friends, a great community, and wonderful resources and leaving that will be heartbreaking.  However, I no longer feel secure around one person.  I find myself dealing with far too much anxiety and unhappiness over it, wondering if she is again judging myself, my parenting, or my children etc.  Added to the fact, she has not made one friendly or neighborly gesture in the six months since this has happened.

As much as I hate to admit it, I am holding a grudge against her-- a strong angry-- hurt grudge.  I never thought I'd say it, but I am totally on B's side on this one.

Would offering to have a cup of tea/coffee and chat help resolve this?? The awful feeling is just, well, awful.  Neighborhoods shouldn't be like this. This is not community.  This is not the feeling I want to live with nor is it the atmosphere that I want to raise my children in.

Conversely, in a self righteous tone- we shouldn't be the ones to run away.  We didn't do anything wrong.  The children are loved and adored.

So, in the coming season we will be house hunting and preparing to move.  It is a scary prospect. But also really exciting to thing of having more room and more possibilities.  I hope and pray we find the right house with great neighbors where we can feel safe and secure again.

15 years.

Today is 15 years since I went to Utah.  It is always a rough day for me.  Lots of anxiety.  Lots of racing thoughts, yet feeling paralyzed to do anything other than exist. 

Yes. 15 years is a long time.  I have learned with the help of my doctors, that what happened, while ultimately leading me to get better, was very traumatic.

The night going into the 13th, I have nightmares and can't sleep well.  The day of, doing anything of importance is not possible. 

Sending me to Utah had to be one of the hardest decisions of my parents lives, and I am grateful that they did. Without it I don't know where I'd be.  I don't know that I would be strong enough to do that.  But I can't imagine watching my child destroy themselves and being totally helpless to stop it. 

I'll never forget that night. Remembering it is like looking back in slow motion. I can remember the snow on the ground. My brother had taken the dog for a walk- he didn't want to be there for that. My school work on the floor. My book.  A note my mom wrote me.  I refused to say goodbye to my parents- I was angry. So angry. So hurt. So scared. I had no idea what to expect how to navigate this.

15 years may have passed but thinking about that time I am right back there. Scared, overwhelmed, (a little angry), hurt, terrified, other feelings that I can't even name now.

15 years.  It seems like it was yesterday.

Utah was hard for a lot of reasons.  But I learned so much there, more than about how to function as a person, I learned how much I love the mountains.  How beautiful they are.  You know how some people feel totally relaxed at the beach, I feel that way about the mountains. I love rock climbing and being out in them feeling the air and wind.  I don't think I would have had the chance to learn that without Utah.

I do not like being scared--- part II

I have been in exactly 2 haunted houses in my life.  One was when I was pretty little maybe 8 or so with my parents.  I clung to my dad for my dear life. I was horrified. I remember screaming so much my throat hurt. The moon that night was of course full, and orange-y it was like someone planned it.  My dad- liked to tease and scare me- but I was panicked. I slept outside their door that night.

Then in high school I went to a bigger professional haunted house and I really do not remember much of it- other than literally kicking some actor away from me, because I was terrified.

What is the fun of being scared out of your wits?

I do not like scary movies, or mysteries. I turn every noise into some scary person or animal.

The scary is totally wasted on me.