The Month of May

 There was a month of May this year- I am confident of it - but it's an entire blur.

Save for the first few days, in which I think I had some fun, May is gone.

I had it all planned - it was a quick and simple laparoscopic hysterectomy of most of the parts - and I was to be back on my feet in about two weeks.

Yea, I plan. And we all laugh.

On May 6 - the surgery went well. I was a poster child. The BFF had come in on May 4 - we went to a softball game, I hosted a Bye Bye Baby House party - life was fine.

The surgery was a success. 

A few days later, I'm in a car, watching my BFF enjoy the tulips and eating ice cream.

And that night, the bottom dropped out.

I was in excruciating pain - and it lasted all night. At 5am, I called it - I needed to go to the ER. 

Which wasn't slammed - and I got right in - to a Doc who has kids in my daughter's building. I never fail to see the light coming through the darkness.

But three rounds of dilaudid, two rounds of fentenal and some other things...and I'm still coming off the table. Two CT scans of my abdomen and three suspicious spots...I was admitted.

By 5pm, the resident who thought I was well informed (but was not) told me I was having surgery.

I complained. No I wasn't. I just had surgery, I wasn't doing it again...to which my BFF replied "No, you're doing this and you're doing it now."

By 6:30pm - a mere 24 hours after the ice cream and happiness - I'm in PreOp begging anyone who will listen to knock me out.

There is a moment where you look at yourself, out of body, watching the pain from above, laughing at yourself at the madness of it all, begging.

It is not pretty.

I remember having to get onto the operating table.

I remember the mask not fitting.

I remember my husband standing over me three hours later - and the pain being different.

And that's it.

What happened? When the robot did the hysterectomy, the cauterizing tool got close to my ureter - the place where the liquid drains from the kidney to the bladder, and it damaged a small area. Over the 6 days of first recovery, it began to create a hole where the tool had burned a small spot. A hole opened up - no larger than a millimeter. And instead of liquid draining into my bladder, it was going into my abdomen. Constantly.

Oh - wait. Lest I forget. The CT scan pointed to the bladder. 

So on the table they cut the bladder open - only to not find the hole. They did another test on the table and finally found the hole in the ureter - and now, voila, I got a stent placed from the kidney to the bladder for 6 weeks, a 4 inch vertical scar under my belly button, a drain (let's not forget the 5 laparoscopic openings I already have), more bruising than I cared to notice and the piece de resistance...a catheter.

Two more nights in a hospital. I think it was a weekend. Who knows. I got chummy with the nurses at 3am. UGH.

Discharged on Sunday night. Another visit to the ER on Monday for a catheter that wasn't working only to find the wait time was 3.5 hours or more. Nope, no thanks.

Another visit to the urologist on Tuesday to get it fixed - not because he didn't believe me - but because I wasn't going to leave unless he did something.

Can I tell you that my BFF was STILL HERE at the time - she stayed SIXTEEN days. I couldn't have done it without her. When she left on May 20 I cried. Alligator tears.

Then somehow, I managed to couch surf around the house until May 26 - when the catheter came out. I was a new woman, who had bruises that were fading, stomach muscles that were starting to work again - a urethra that was ticked off and a holiday weekend in front of us. 

I blinked. 

It was sunny and warm. I made it outside. 

The weekend came and went. The urethra is still not happy - but I'm praying daily and she's getting better. Not great, but better. (you may read between the lines...the valve is still upset. It'll heal. Sooner or later. Bloody mother pussbucket)

The kids and my husband have been a tremendous help...and I slid into today, the last day of the month, wondering where May went. How is it June tomorrow?

That's way too quick of an overview, but I wanted to get it down before I forgot the entire month.

My brain is ok.

My body is healing.

The stent will come out on June 30 - after a family vacation, a first round of summer camp, the end of school, the end of softball and many days of sunshine and popsicles. 

And this will all be just a memory.

Thank the Lord in heaven.

Greek Easter

Happy to have a few of Hubs' family over for Orthodox Easter - and celebrate our risen Lord twice in one month. WootWoot - Pound Cake from Grandma one week and then Carrot Cake from Aunt Laurie the next. WINNING!

Red eggs are a tradition in the Greek Orthodox church for Easter - and it was fun to do the traditional "smash the egg" on the other to see who wins. 

 

It's Fuzzy not Fussy

 I was about 13 years old and decided to write my aunt a letter. I think I might have been a disgruntled teen and was teeing up my aunt to remember that my birthday was coming up, that my brother was annoying, my parents were annoying, my dog was annoying...you get the point. Disgruntled - and with an aunt I could complain to.

I probably owed her a thank you note, as well. 

Because the rule was "no note, no more gifts."

So I mastered the art of the thank you note - which, by the way, has served me well.

Somewhere in the middle of my complaining, I wrote that I was thankful for the fussy socks. They were cute or warm or pretty or what have you.

About three weeks later, a letter returned...

"JeniGirl...blah blah blah...it's fuzzy, not fussy....blah blah blah. Love, A.H."

______________________________

About a year or so later, we hosted the family reunion for Christmas. I was in charge of sweeping the front hall. 

As a disgruntled teenager.

And my sweep strokes were paltry at best. Little, itty bitty strokes that said "Fine, I will sweep, but I won't do it well."

My aunt snatched the broom from my hand and demonstrated that pushing the dirt around was not the point and that I was actually tasked with sweeping up the debris.

I think I burst into tears.

Again with the disgruntled.

But I tell you what, there isn't a moment when I don't pick up a broom now and think of her.

Then there was the time it was just the two of us on the couch...and I held her hand and fussed with her rings. We had a pension for jewelry. Oh, we loved jewelry. In fact, when I knew Hubs was the one, I not so subtly told him that my aunt could help out with any jewelry purchases he might happen to make. Can I tell you how much I love our rings?

And there were texts and calls. Visits and chats. Not all the time, not every week. But they were there.

And let me not forget the looped handwriting of love when my children's birthday cards arrived and the $5 bill fell out. 

That's how I explained who she was to them last night - the $5 bill aunt. 

"aaah, yes!" they exclaimed!

____________________________

My final visit was one that was a blessing...and a hard one. My aunt had a stroke about 15 months ago - and the slow decline began. Sometimes with a flurry and fierceness that no one wanted. Sometimes with the methodical plodding for a destination no one wanted either.

To live with vibrancy is one thing - to live with methodical plodding is entirely another. The writing was on the wall.

So my mom and I knew it was time to go see her - and we visited and chatted. We plotted and schemed. We sang to Jesus - and that she was my sunshine, my only sunshine. And on days like today, when the skies are grey, I know she'll know how much I love her.

My final memories will be one of amusement.

She made a joke - a stroke patient in the waning days of her life - made a joke. A big one.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Girl," she exclaimed, "I know things about you."

"Oh Lord Almighty, you do," I cackled, and promptly put my tongue back in my mouth.

______________________________

Yesterday, we knew the end was here. That constant stress of every time the phone would ding with a text.

Modern communication is a treasure and a curse.

My mom got the message about 2am this morning...and passed it on to me about two hours ago.

It's now 9am. The world continues to spin, the birds are chirping, the kids are in school...and my aunt is gone.

But she didn't take the sunshine away - it will be here. Just like my memories - of fuzzy socks and unswept floors - of sparkling diamonds and cackles of joy.

Love you forever, like you for always, my precious aunt. Hug your parents for me.

Sweet and Kind

 I'm not quite sure I am able to handle any more death and dying this week - but I think this is not the end of news that will come my way.

Yesterday was met with many texts that my mom's sister has transitioned to hospice - I have no news on that one this morning, so I will not assume to know where things are at. Suffice to say - lots of texts to my cousins yesterday that I am praying for them....

...which leads me to this morning's email from our old neighbor in the house before this one. She didn't want to start my day off as she was about to - but it was important to know...my sweet, soft spoken, kind neighbor from that Cal house - whose husband died at 59 last summer - passed away, also on Easter. 

Talk about a kind heart - and sweet demeanor. She was a little light in the world that quietly went about spreading love. She was 62. 

The reality of that is hard for me as well - that's not too far off for me, certainly not for my husband - or any of my cousins.

At another time, I will ruminate on the fact that she is the 12th person - friend or family - that I have lost since January 1. Twelve people in fourteen weeks. But that's for another time.

For now, I use this blog to create an archive to myself - and to share a little of her light. 

https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/grand-rapids-mi/cynthia-andrews-10714260

My Realtor and Friend

 When we lived in Grand Rapids - the first time - in the late 70's and early 80's - a family with four young children moved in across the street. Actually, they only had three doodle bugs at the time. Boys...all about the age of my brother and me. 

Which meant instant playmates and friends.

When we left in 84, we stayed in contact - coming back for 4th of July parades and time together.

I returned to GR to go to college in 92 - and I'd pop over occasionally to say hi, grab a snack or steal a hug.

And when I returned (for good?!) in 05, Mr. G was then a realtor who could help me navigate buying a home in town- Which wasn't an easy accomplishment with the disaster of selling my Chicago condo. But he helped me through the whole process from start to finish - offering fatherly love and advice, and certainly the protective eye that I needed.

And then I met Hubs - and we got married, so Mr. G sold his house. And then we moved to Cal...and he sold the GR house, helped us navigate purchasing a new one...all so we could do it again four years later and sell the Cal house for another GR house. 

In the meantime, my brother moved from GR to Cal...so Mr. G helped him sell and buy. 

And then my parents came back from Lansing to the lake...and yea, Mr. G helped them too.

Through all those years and real estate transactions, he, with his lovely wife and grown children, remained good friends. The kind that you know and long for - the ones that pick up and set down over decades and never lose that connection.

As I study connection in the last few years, I find just how important this is.

So when I heard that his health was failing, it was time to go say hi and get my hugs.

His health continued to rapidly decline last week - I spoke often to his daughter - and by the time the call came yesterday afternoon (Easter, of course - and the 2-year anniversary of my back yard neighbor's passing) - my heart was still not ready to say good bye.

There is this odd feeling that can coexist in your heart - you don't want your friend or loved one to be in pain (which he certainly was) so you want them to go. But, you want them here and don't want to say good bye.

Those feelings of "GO!" and "PLEASE STAY!" can exist in your heart and mind - for as long as they need to.

In any event...I saw his daughter's face on FaceTime - and I knew. And we didn't have words. We cried for a moment...and took a big breath.

He was gone. 

Hallelujah, it is finished...we had just recited on Friday...and as we do serve our risen Savior...I only say that "it is well with my soul." 

I will miss him terribly - and then next time I sell a home, it won't be the same.

Mr. G - you were a good, good man. Every hug, every nudge of confidence....I'll keep with me.

Our whole family is grateful for you - and we love you. 

https://obits.mlive.com/us/obituaries/grandrapids/name/william-graham-obituary?id=34324007

I Serve a Risen Savior

 He's in the world today....

I sing this all day long on Easter...and rejoice that my Savior lives. 

We returned to church today - in person. We had tried once before a few months ago and it didn't sit right. So we waited until our return from Spring Break ... and Easter morning seemed perfect for that.

Alleluia....Hallelujah.

Spring Break

 Back in October, when the world was heavy (who am I kidding, the world still seems heavy) - I gave Hubs 4 options for Spring Break, all in Key West - and told him to pick one.

Up until the day we left, I swore, the universe was going to conspire against us that we wouldn't be able to actually go on the trip.

I'm shocked - and happy - to report we left. We went, we saw, we relaxed, and we conquered. Even the huge hiccup to get back home - not direct to ORD as planned, but a four hour drive up the Keys in a rental, to Miami....to Philadelphia...then to O'Hare to get the car and then back to MI. Ooof!

Still - we went. And we're grateful!