The Scab

Remember when you were little and you were running around maybe being chased by a friend, laughing your head off and then you stumbled over something and you fell down? Or maybe you were riding your bike and you fell off? As you picked yourself up, you realized that maybe your knee or your elbow was bleeding and then the bloody scrape began to throb with pain? I think everyone must have experienced something like that at least once in their life.

Your scrape may have been uncomfortable, but it usually began to heal within a few days. A scab eventually began to form. The depth, size, and location of the scrape dictated how long it would take for your injury to heal. Eventually, a scab began to form. New skin began to form on the edges of the wound and the wound healed from the edges in to the middle. You found that your skin may have turned pink and was still sensitive to touch, but eventually the scab decreased in size and eventually fell off (if you didn't pick it off first). If you're lucky, there was hardly any evidence that there was ever some type of skin trauma and life went on as if the fall or the stumble ever happened.

We do need to remember though, that sometimes during the healing process, when the scab had formed, the scab or a portion of it, may have been accidentally rubbed or knocked off. This might have caused the wound to start bleeding again, some new pain may have been felt and the healing process might have had to begin all over again.

You may be wondering what this has to do with anything. Why would I be writing about scabs?! While standing in the shower recently, I realized that in many ways my life in the last couple of years can be likened to a scab. Let's think about it. I was living life basically on a "one day at a time" basis, but one day I got knocked down by life in a very BIG and unexpected way. It was hard - extremely hard to pick myself up. I really didn't want to get up. It was so much easier just to lie there wanting to be left alone bruised and bloody. Thankfully, I had Corey and Nikki and my family and friends who rallied around me who literally and figuratively picked me up and started to clean my wounds. I developed a scab - a really big one. While thinking about all this, I came to realize that I believe that my scab is slowly falling away piece by little piece. Don't get me wrong - I still feel pain from that wound. I find that I may not cry and grieve in the same way that I did initially, but there is still hurt. There is still pain and I don't know when this wound will heal - when the scab will disappear. I know others who have experienced their own similar "scrapes" for a much, much longer time than I who tell me that they still have not gotten over the hurt; their pain. They still have scabs.

Rose Kennedy said in a quote that I read the other day, "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessons. But it is never gone." She seems to know what it is like to have a scab.

Yes, I still have a scab. I still feel wounded. I still cry on occasions; not as often as I used to and they are generally more than naught happy tears. Happy tears? Yes, those are the ones when remembering how Joe would kiss the back of my hand; remembering his stupid jokes; recalling how he loved his huckleberry ice cream - those kind of things. Those are the happy tears. The really sad tears are less frequent. My wound is still deep. I still experience a loss of companionship and pain of missed opportunities to be together. I find that the loss and the crying can come from the stored memories I have when remembering Joe. These are wonderful memories as I find that the passage of time, the healing of the scab if you will, tends to make the bad memories of sickness and trauma become less and less remembered. The good memories can come from a song, a smell, a sound, but still provide some sorrow that Joe is not here to share them with. Those are supposed to be OUR memories. WE made those memories together. WE made those memories so that one day when WE could no longer make new ones, we'd always have those to fall back on. And now, I've been left with this tremendous amount and array of memories that really don't matter to anyone. That's where and when the sadness creeps in. That's one of the reasons why the scab still remains. The scab may not be as big as it was two years ago and my scrape may no longer be bleeding, but I've still got the scab.

After The Ball Was Over...

Getting Joe ready for bed each evening sometimes seems to be quite time consuming, but definitely a "necessary evil" whole lot of fun.  This is the normal routine...

• taking his night time medications;
• checking his last of the day blood sugar;
• administering the two types of insulin to help maintain or lower the blood sugar for the night;
• filling up his water reservoir for his bi-pap machine;
• having nightly prayer;
• kissing his sweet, puckered up lips;
• placing his bi-pap face mask on his head and over his nose; and
• tucking him into bed, turning out the light and shutting the door.  (And then maybe having an hour of some quiet time for myself).

But, something new has now been entered into the routine...

• removing his two hearing aids;
• opening them up to preserve the battery life; and
• placing them into their protective night time case.

As I was doing all this last night, Joe commented that it almost felt like he was being disassembled.  I told him that it made me think of a song that I had learned years ago.  Why I ever learned this song or where I learned this song, I don't even remember.  But, here are the words...

After the ball was over,
Mary took out her glass eye,
Put her false teeth in the water,
Hung up her wig to dry,
Put her peg leg in the corner,
Hung her tin ear on the wall.
There wasn't much left of poor M-a-r-eeeeeee
After the ball!

http://youtu.be/qGJJdhUlWrY

Five Trails Daycare Center

The person on the left is Jamaica who is the director and the person on the right is Robin who is the nurse.

Mt. Rushmore - 2011

Joe seeing Mt. Rushmore for the first and probably only time.  He was having problems with his eyes that day so actually seeing everything was difficult for him.

The Crazy Horse memorial that is still being carved.

While stopped at a railroad crossing, we spied this historical marker.  Very interesting.

"Have The Police Called You"?

It was an uneventful morning. Got Joe totally dressed after he'd made it through a morning shower with no unexpected slippage and falling today. The only mishap was when I was pulling his newly pulled on Depend a little too hard and started a horizontal tear across the backside. Ta dah! Another use for duct tape and he had wearable underwear for all day usage.

I left around 8:30 with my usual "stay out of trouble" and a quick prayer in the car. Around 10:30, I received a telephone call from Leonard Landlord asking me "Have the police called you"? And this is the reason why...

Joe's side of the story:

He was apparently sitting outside waiting for the CATC bus to take him to the Senior Citizen Center. According to him, the bus was running very late and never came and got him. And/or a bus arrived but it was a driver he'd never seen before and he wasn't going with her. And, since the bus never came, he decided to go back into the house, undress and climb back into bed.

CATC'S side of the story:

The driver arrived at our home at 9:35 a.m. The driver walked to the front door since Joe wasn't sitting outside where he usually is most of the time. She became quite alarmed when she neared the front door and found the housekey lying just outside the half-opened screen door where Joe's walking cane was half in and out of the door with the front door open. She knocked on the door calling his name repeatedly. (They are not allowed to enter customer homes). After doing this for about 5 minutes, she called her office and reported what she had observed and done. The office called our home number trying to reach Joe. (I heard that recording when I arrived home later in the morning). CATC sent one of their supervisors over to our house and for several minutes they tried to determine where Joe was. Leonard Landlord even came into the house at some point and called for Joe with no response.

The CATC supervisor finally called the police department for them to come do a "well check".

Police Officer's side of the story:

When they arrived at the house, one officer went to the backyard and spoke with Leonard, first to find out who he was, and then entered the home. (At some point someone even went and spoke with our neighbors to see if they knew about Joe). The other officer came into the front door wherein he finally found a dazed Joe walking into the living room in a pair of jean shorts. (Thank goodness he had at least put on some type of clothing). Joe couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. He just knew the bus hadn't come, he didn't feel it was absolutely essential that he go to the center and had gone back to bed. The police officers and everyone, except Leonard Landlord who continued working on the fence until...

My side of the story...

I was at work when Leonard Landlord called and asked "Have the police called you"?

Me: No, why? What's happened?

LL: Apparently Joe didn't catch the bus and they came looking for him. When he didn't answer, they called and the police came and went into the house and found him okay.

Me: Is he at the house now?

LL: No, I think the bus went on and took him to dialysis.

Me: Today's not his dialysis day. He was supposed to go to the Senior Citizen Center. I'll just give them a call. Thanks for the information LL.

I hang up the phone, search for the SCC number and call asking for Joe. They go looking for Joe and he's not anywhere to be found. I call the house. He doesn't answer the phone. I pick up my purse, clock out at work and say I'll be back as soon as I can find my husband.

I drive home where I find Joe tucked into bed like a sleeping angel. He wakes up. I question/grill him about what has happened. He gets mad at me for making a big fuss about nothing. I find items for his lunch (which he was supposed to have eaten at the Center), give some insulin and leave after I have let him live.

Then I went to CATC to find out all the real facts of the morning, then to the Center to alleviate their wonder of what happened to Joe and spoke to the police officer later when I return to the office.

911 - This is a non-emergency. No lights or sirens, please!

My morning began with hearing Joe call me from somewhere outside the bedroom. I was having my best night's sleep in a long time. Carol. Carol. Carol.

There he was in the bathtub. According to him, he WAS outside the tub drying off when he lost his balance and fell backwards back into the bathtub. Did you know:

• Each year, 350 people drown in their bathtubs. You are 151 times more likely to be killed by your bathtub than you are by a pit bull and/or;
• Seven hundred ten persons drowned in bathtubs in 1979 and 1980 and/or;
• Of the 24000 accidental deaths of people over the age of 65 every year, many take place in the bathroom from slipping and falling when entering and exiting the bathtub. Joe is now 66 years old.

I told him all that while he was lying nekkid in the bottom of the tub.

Seriously, he didn't appear to be hurt only totally unable to get out of the tub. After a great deal of struggling, we did manage to have him "slither" on the side of the tub, but then he was stuck on the bathroom rug and couldn't get up. I no longer was able to help so that's when I threw on a house dress and called 911. I told the dispatcher I needed help, but that it was a non-emergency and begged for no lights or sirens. They granted my wish. Six burly, hunky dudes showed up. There I was standing in my house dress and morning bed head hair going off in a million directions. But in a matter of moments nekkid man was standing tall and the burly dudes all disappeared.

I did call the dialysis office to let them know to be on the lookout for any strange behaviour, but all went well.

It's More Therapy With Joe...

These pictures show some more of Joe's additional balance therapy...

Ft. Casper Program

This last Wednesday, Joe and I attended our first Ft. Caspar program of the new year.  The museum offers a series of lectures/programs presented free of charge throughout the summer months and we've always enjoyed attending them.

The program that night was presented by Candy Moulton.  Her subject was the many trails used int he state of Wyoming.  Her lecture was based on one of her books entitled "Forts, Fights and Historical Sites".  The book explores some of the lesser known historical sites in Wyoming. She documents scores of Wyoming way stations, military establishments, battlefields, Pony Express stations, Oregon and Overland Trail sites, military expeditions--even ferries and hog ranches.   It sounded so intriguing that we bought a copy and she even autographed it for us.

Here is Joe with the author - Candy Moulton

Balance Therapy

Today was Joe's first day of therapy to help him try and regain his balance.  There was a series of tests he was put through to give a baseline of where he is and where he needs to be.

Here Joe is supposed to be stepping one foot inside each of the blocks while walking forward.  He then is supposed to walk backwards doing the same thing.  The object on the floor looks almost like a flat ladder.  Forward wasn't too bad, walking backward was very difficult.

Here he is strapped into a vest, almost like sky-diving, to measure all types of movement in this booth.  The floor under his feet can rotate up and down and sideways.  Being harnessed allows him to stumble without falling.  The computer on the left is measuring his baseline for each of the 10 tests that were done.  He was below average on 9 of them.

Joe and His New Pet

We were going somewhere the other day and Joe had walked out to sit in the car and was eating an apple.  That's when I noticed the little rabbit in our yard (in the far left hand side of the picture)  We have a rabbit in our yard every spring.  I don't know if it's the same one, but he's really quite tame.

The rabbit turns and sees Joe sitting in the car.

Then Joe saw the rabbit and tries to get close enough to feed it some apple.

...and closer.

Trial Number Five

Trial Number Five by Carol Lynn Pearson

Carefully they laid
Out on the table
Trials one, two, three,
Four, five and six.

"Choose one," they said.

"On, any," she cried, with a horror
Born of the best of Halloweens.
"Any but number five.
It would kill me.
I promise you I would not survive.

They thanked her graciously,
Escorted her out,
The gift-wrapped, addressed,
And labeled "Special delivery"
Trial number five-

Sent with love from
Those whose assignment it is
To make sure you know
That you can go
Through trials one, two,
Three, four, ninety-nine,
Or five-
And, incredibly,
Come out alive.

I've always taken great heart reading this poem when life seems to get a little bit overwhelming - when I'm at the point of thinking I just don't or can't handle anything anymore.  And things have started getting a little bit crazy here again.  Our household has gone through 4 1/2  months of "normalcy" and for that I am so grateful.  It's given me the opportunity to regroup, recoup and reassess what had happened the latter part of 2010.

In the last couple of weeks, Joe has started having medical issues again.  He's losing his balance, his blood pressure is going extremely low and he's having a moments of memory loss.  Since I'm still not working and get to spend a great deal of time around him, it's become very noticeable how some of these problems are increasing.

I'm beginning to feel more and more that the reason I've been unable to get a new job is so that I can be here to help Joe out while he still continues to recover.

Another Milestone Taken

Today was the day that Joe finally got the dialysis ports out of his shoulder after having them almost seven months ago.  Now when he goes for dialysis, the fistula in his left arm is used to "plug" him up.  It was a good thing the ports where taken out as Dr. Todd found that the area was infected.

Some of Our Missionary Children

Some of our missionary children.  We've been fortunate to see the two girls in the middle since our move here to Wyoming.  We see Rachel (on the left) most times when we go see the kids in Utah and we attended the wedding of Emily last July when she married an Elder who used to come to our home.  The world keeps getting smaller and smaller.

Even Joe had to get in on the action.

Taking Care of Business

This was the child care center that I was part owner in while we lived in Georgia.  That was until my "friend" who was the other owner ripped me off and kicked me out.  I did think that was a ver clever name for the center though.

This is what some of the rooms in the center looked like before opening day...

And here was handy man Joe who worked his butt off many, many hours helping to get things ready for the opening...

It all worked out for the best as we wound up moving to Wyoming and would have missed this experience if I'd stayed with the center.

Coming Out On The Other Side

It’s been 290 days since my life as I knew it changed.  Another way of looking at it is it being 6,960 hours.  That begins with the day of Joe’s heart attack and today which ironically enough is Friday, the 13^th.

It’s taken this long for me to finally feel as though I, am finally coming out on the other side of the last 290 days.  I’ll be the first to admit that I can only understand to an extent what this has been for Joe, but this is my blog, so I’m writing this from my perspective.

I will be the first to thank those friends and family who have helped out in so many, many ways during those 6,960 hours.  Fortunately, those wonderful friends and family have not lived with me for all that time and can never, ever begin to know how I have had to live my life, to make adjustments -  permanent and temporary.  And, I would hope that not one of them would have to experience my last 290 days because then that would mean life changing events for them also.

When Joe entered the hospital for the first time and each ensuing time, he left a portion of himself there.  With each and every medical emergency, he lost more and more of his independence and ability to think and care for himself.  Consequently, that responsibility became more and more mine.

Our way of living and life changed tremendously.  Dispensing of medication changed, visits to doctors increased, personalities changed, no longer could we just pick up and go somewhere without extensive preparations being made, attending social functions decreased and even became non-existent at times, even going to church regularly depended upon the day-by-day experiences, my work became difficult and stressful and worrisome due to the distance away from our home and Joe and working while he was hospitalized, sleep habits were severely altered, normal conversations sometimes became recycled conversations, there was the stress of finances and the mounting bills, there was the underlying fear of anticipating what might happen next and the list could go on and on and on.

Thankfully things have and are improving.  Though I did lose my job due to a layoff in mid-January, there has not been one single medical emergency take place now for 113 days or, in other words 4,520 hours.  And, each day of improvement is taken with a great deal of gratitude and hopefulness of continued improvement.  I acknowledge and know that my Heavenly Father is aware of all that I’ve experienced during these last months.  I know that He loves me and that all these things are for my good.  I may not know what lessons I’m supposed to learn or I may not understand why all these things have happened, but I do know that I have learned lessons I never thought I would have to experience at this point in my life.

D&C 122:7 And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

I expressed to a dear friend this week that I feel as though I am finally coming out of the other side.  I feel as though I’ve been down  in the bottom of a deep hole or ravine and it’s taken a very, very long  time to claw my way up the side.  I am finally able to hold myself up enough so that my head is out of the hole and my eyes can see other things on the other side.  I can see the sun beginning to shine.

For the first time in 290 days, I went to lunch with a group of friends while my sweet husband was eating lunch and taking Tai Chi classes with other people – non-medical people – and I was not worrying about him.  I was so happy to know that finally he, too, was coming out on the other side.  That he, too, was having lunch with friends and not worrying about me.  How special was it to get back together that evening  and share what we’d done during the time we were away from each other.  How nice it was to go to a live show and be able to sit there the entire time and truly enjoy the performance.  There was no rushing somewhere to care for Joe’s needs.

For the first time in 290 days, I am finally getting a much better night’s sleep.  I’m still not sleeping though the night, but I’m not afraid to sleep any longer.

For the first time in 290 days, I’m not hurrying off to the store and trying to return within a very few moments because something might happen to Joe while I’m gone.   In fact, Joe is going more places with me and even if he doesn’t have the strength to go inside, he’s willing to sit in the car and wait just so we can spend more time together.

For the first time in 290 days, I am seeing a spring in Joe’s step that has been missing.  I’m seeing a person who is ready to get back out in the world.  I’m seeing a twinkle in his eye and conversation in his voice that has been missing.  I am seeing at least a bigger portion of the man I once knew.

Is everything going well every day for us?  Not all the time.  We still have a long way to go to repair the dimples in our relationship, to gain our own independence , to be able to have our own non-shared experiences and still have our shared time together as a couple.  Joe has to gain his self-confidence and self-assurance that he can “go it alone” without me when opportunities come around.  I have to also let him gain some of that lost independence.  We are coming out on the other side and for that I am grateful to continue the climb and claw some more so that one day I can sit on top.

Alma 37:37 Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day.

Tai Chi Man

Joe a/k/a Tai Chi Man started classes this afternoon at the Senior Citizen Center.  Tai chi, is a noncompetitive, self-paced system of gentle physical exercise and stretching. To do tai chi, you perform a series of postures or movements in a slow, graceful manner. Each posture flows into the next without pause, ensuring that your body is in constant motion.  The reason the Center offers it is that it is increasingly used as an exercise, performed predominantly by older persons for relaxation, balance and health.
This is TCM doing some preliminary pre-class movements - he called it getting warmed up.

When I went by the Center to Joe up, I was told he was still in class so I stood outside the door and watched for a few minutes .

TCM has informed me that I have to be very vigilant as he is now able to spring around now like a gazelle.  And, I'd better not be sneaking up behind him as he uses some of his new Tai Chi forms such as "Single Whip", "Part the Wild Horses Mane", "Grasp The Peacock's Tail", "Repulse Monkey", hmmm.

Poetry Written To Me By Joe

Some years ago Joe wrote this for me on Valentine's Day 2005...

Our First Valentine's Day

Life is full of firsts, and although we've spent many Valentine's Days with others,
Today is our first.
And the wonderment of this day far outshines Valentine's Days past.
When we now look back at them and see them only as individual days
and not as milestones in our live together.

Our days together have not been made of "How are you? I love you" moments,
but days of deep caring and understanding.
Not fleeting moments in vanilla days as before.
For me it has now become loving days of caring and understanding for one another.

A special day - everyday - a love between us - an endless Valentine's Day.

My love forever, your husband, Joe.

Lullabye and Good Night

I expect that I will get one of my best nights sleep in a very long time tonight. Joe is going to a sleep lab tonight and will be gone all night long. He's gone through this before while we lived in Georgia. He got a CPAP and his mask, but never adapted or gave it a chance to work, so he never wore his. Now he's being forced to do it all over again so that it will help strengthen his heart and curtail other potential problems.

I have problems sleeping at night as he's up and done all night long. When I wake up and realize he's not in the bed, I get up and check and see where he might be. I have had one too many bad experiences of finding him unconscious or semi-conscious so I have to get up and check on him. So, while he's off snoozing away at the sleep lab being cared for by someone else, I plan on getting a very restful night of sleep.

Helping Joe "See" Better

In order to help Joe "see" a little bit better, I've been marking some items using some clear bumps provided by an agency here in Casper.

It became necessary to incorporate these helpers because many times Joe would turn the thermostat up excessively high and the temperature would almost melt the paint off the wall! Now he only has to line up the two bumps and not move the bottom one any further to the right. It works!
A bump had to be added for the dryer also. There were times he would turn it to a setting and I thought the clothes were going to catch on fire! Now he just aligns the black mark across from the bump. I put it where the permanent press setting is located so hopefully nothing will get too hot and it will eventually automatically cut off. I may have to add a bump on top of the mark also so he can line these up just like the thermostat when he can no longer tell where the mark is located.

Joey's Home

Here he comes home from dialysis by way of the CATC bus which picks him up and takes him wherever he wants to go for a very minimal fee...