More Tomorrow

I am so tired that I can barely type this sentence, but I promise to post more on my and SO’s adventure. Thanks for understanding. :)

A Little Story of Will

Life is funny how it jerks you around, but when I look back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. There are fantastic things I’ve experienced that would have never happened if circumstances hadn’t pushed me. Until several years ago, I was comfortably ensconced in a beautiful little mountain town, raising my children, spending wonderful times with SO, cooking a lot and sometimes inviting the whole town to my house to laugh and eat or to mourn if the occasion warranted, and always having an open door to whomever may need to unburden themselves.

SO and I, who grew up in the city and came from corporate culture, had more or less become part of a family in this little town, and we were loving it. It was the realization of a dream that started when we were both busting our backsides in our 20s and 30s. The plan had been to build a business and make enough money that we could then go and freely do what we wanted. There were two things we wanted: to serve a community and to spend a lot of time with our kids and not necessarily in that order.

Us at 36 with the kids in a shot taken about 2 hours from where we would eventually live three years later:

Things were humming along nicely in the little town. We had learned to live way below our means in order for our savings to stretch and keep us in “retirement.” We also had a wonderful relationship with our kids and each other (despite our sometimes tempestuous interactions). Two of the kids were successfully doing college with another one getting ready to go. They had also enjoyed running and excelled at it. SO being a running coach was helpful, and we spent considerable time going to meets. It was at one such meet where our son was doing really well when something happened. SO had a pain, and it was bad enough he had to go to the car. This was the guy who usually ran all over a 5K course to keep up with the progress of a race and no obstacle ever got in his way. When he slunked off toward the car, I knew something was seriously wrong. A few moments later I jogged over to see what was going on. His face was deathly white, but he almost threw his stop watch at me and was adamant I watch the finish line.

I reluctantly went back to watch, and as I turned around, he was behind me. Still looking like a ghost and not able to walk so vigorously but trying to make it near the finish line. He didn’t quite make it and had to watch from afar as our son easily came in first. When I turned to say we should go to the hospital, he was stubborn about just going home. Home was 20 minutes away, so we went there quickly. All the way home, I was trying to get him to call an ambulance, but he refused (yep, he’s a typical male). Then as we walked into the house, he stopped and said, “Please call 911!” Thankfully, I had already called them, and they were on their way. SO sat on the local Fire and Rescue Board at the time, and I had actually called the fire chief’s house first, and then 911. They were there lickety split and SO was so anxious to see them that he stumbled into the front yard toward the ambulance.

At the hospital, we of course learned from tests that he had had a heart attack, and they were discussing care flight options with me. Such is the price of living in the boonies — anything really serious goes wrong, and you’re on a plane or helicopter heading for the city. Thankfully, SO’s situation stabilized and he was able to be taken by car to the other side of the mountain. They ran even more tests on him at the big city hospital, and we learned he would not be needing bypass surgery as there was no blockage or even damage to his heart. A miracle. But we also had a bomb dropped on us. We learned he had kidney disease and was a few steps away from dialysis.

We were quickly hooked up with a nephrologist, and a month later, SO was told to get a living donor or get on the kidney transplant deceased donor list. We started the process, and I was not a match, his sister was not a match, his parents were too old, several friends were not a match. Our children volunteered to give their kidneys, but considering the family history, we told them it was best to hang onto theirs — they may need them! The work began to get him on the deceased donor list. This took a year and was quite a roller coaster ride. But even while this was being done, I and other family were working to find him a living donor. Meanwhile, his doctors had told him to do everything possible to stay off of dialysis, and as a result, he became too weak to do much of anything.

All of this was going on a few months after I started this blog. Tomorrow night I’ll continue the story.

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Are You Sick of Hearing About FanstRAvaganza?!

Do you feel like the three time wife who was still a virgin? The first time her husband died at the altar, the second time her husband died en route to their honeymoon destination, and the third time she married a salesman who sat on the side of the bed every night and told her how great it was going to be. I promise I’m not going to keep you forever in suspense. It’s almost here. Almost, almost, almost. Sometimes I hate that word. It can strike such fear or generate a meltdown of anticipation and all the while remaining aloof. Damn! it’s amazing how something so nebulous can have such an effect, but there it is and so many other things in life as well. Someone slap me before this piece strays from the subject to all this philosophical crap (which all of us can relate to but would rather not think about) and of course digressing would justify you in thinking I’m merely messing with your head about FanstRAvaganza!

It’s really, really coming, but you don’t have to trust me. Just listen to this mesmerizing voice beckoning you to be there. Put it on repeat and I’m sure you’ll be with us on Monday. :D

Seductive voice brought to you by CDoart. But sure to check out her blog during FanstRAvaganza!

And there will be more to thrill your ears. My topic is Richard’s voice work, so I hope you will stay around to hear what’s coming, and I haven’t even talked about all of the other wonderful subjects that will be explored by the participating bloggers! More good stuff. Trust me.

From Strike Back, Episode 2 where Porter is trying to calm Katie Dartmouth and gain her trust:

By the way, if you think you’re sick of hearing about FanstRAvaganza, how do you think I feel typing that mother of a word over and over? The one who thought of this name is sadistic, and fortunately, I know who you are. :D

Note to my fellow bloggers: it’s very interesting to be in this group. There are times such as now when I’ve had an idea and then had to possibly rethink it a little or even can it because another blogger ran with it before I did. I do that so the repetition doesn’t bore everyone, but I left my picture selection, which is very similar to Servetus’ recent post, to make a point. I hope none of you get disheartened by these situations, because frankly, they just make us sharp and make for better posts, and I welcome the challenge. I remember learning to draw as a kid. My mother gave me a set of pencils with no erasers. She meant to get me a nice gum eraser but never did. So I learned how to draw without ever erasing. This was key to unlocking my creativity with a pencil, and it’s amazing the drawings that have come out of that exercise. Some of my best evolved from a seemingly out of place mark I could not erase but felt I had to change, so hallelujah! for changes.

Take care, and I hope everyone is still having a great time with this!

Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.Com