The Things I Now Notice....

This is a picture of our building they are remodeling at work. Notice that the fire extinguisher is attached low to the ground (unlike in Wal-mart) so that it will not fall and hit anybody on the HEAD. LOL. I notice these things now!!!

How I Became "The People Of Walmart"....

In Feb of this year I took Libby to a basketball tournament in a city about 45 minutes away. It was just the two of us, and between games I took her to a local department store to get a tank top. While I was in there I passed out. I had started to feel faint and my vision was going Dark. I said "Libby Help Me". She couldn't hold up my weight and down I went.

They took me by ambulance to the local hospital. Libby was so grown up and calm. It scared us all. I had been changing some meds and one of the potential side effects was seizures. So we thought that was probably what happened.

I had pretty much forgot about it.

Well a week ago Monday...seven months later...I had taken the three girls to buy school supplies at Walmart. It was crazy and busy in there, and I was trying to make sure the girls got everything they needed. And they were "helping" buy throwing whatever they thought was cool into the cart.

We were almost done, and I started to feel faint again. I dug in my person and took some medicine, thinking that if I got it down it would keep me from passing out. Well it didn't work. Madi was at the end of the aisle, and Libby and Carlie were around the corner.

I went into a full Grand Mal Seizure. I fell backwards and into one of the support poles. This particular pole at Walmart happened to have a fire extinguisher attached to it. I don't remember any of this, but Madi said my head clipped the bottom of the extinguisher and knocked it loose from the pole. It flipped upside down and followed me down to the ground and the metal handle of the extinguisher slammed into the back of my head making a huge gash.

The girls said I was laying there in the aisle at Walmart with blood pooling around my head. Head wounds always bleed horribly. One of the employees ran over to the clearance rack and grabbed a shirt off of it to put pressure on the gash. I'm sure there's a good joke in there pertaining to that...I just can't think of one right now!

Libby was again very calm and cool in a crisis. She was able to tell them what meds I am taking, and used someones cell phone to call Granny. Bob wasn't answering his phone. They called 911.

They worked on me a while in the ambulance in the parking lot. My blood sugar was 63 and my heart rate was 180. I came too briefly in the ambulance. My Mom called Bob's sister and she came and picked the girls up at Walmart. Someone called the Butler County Sheriff's office and had them go find Bob out on the football field.

The first time I really came back to my senses it was 8:30pm. My parents were at the ER and so was Bob. The seizure had happened right after 6:30pm.

They gash went to the skull. They had to put in six stitches and fourteen staples. CT Scan showed that I did not have any tumors or skull fractures.

I saw a neurologist a few days ago. He says that I have Epilpsy and put me on anti-seizure meds. He said we'll probably never know why I'm having seizures or suddenly started having them in "Middle age". And YES he did use the phrase middle age. Humph!!! And yes he did look like he was 14 or 15.

He said he believes the meds will take care of it and that once we get it to the right levels I won't have any more seizures.

Being carted out of WalMart on an Ambulance stretcher in front of half my friends and acquaintances was definitely NOT on my list of things I wanted to do before I turned Forty. Just trying to be grateful it wasn't something more serious.

It really scared Madi and Carlie. They thought I'd lost all of the blood in my body.

Bad Things Come in 3s...times two

We've had a hard Summer. First Memaw had her bad stroke. Then a few weeks ago I had to take Carrie to the ER for high blood pressure. This weekend Lena wrecked her car...had to go to the hosptial via ambulance. Luckily just bumps and bruises, but now she has no car until she gets insurance settlement.

My parents had their new travel trailer break down on them. Then their truck got hit by a big limb from a freak storm. Then a few days later Granny and Libby were going to the post office and were hit by a run away truck that had gotten out of gear.

I hope we are done for a while!!!

What Would You Say?

What would you say? How would you treat me? If I told you that my son was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. My 11 year son. My oldest. My only boy. And I had talked to professionals....more than one of them. And they told me that after a few years of extensive and painful treatment, we'd know if he was going to live. And that the chance of that happening was about 30%.

What would you say? Would you hug me? Would you be understanding if I cried? Would you understand if I was distracted at work? Would you understand if I needed to take more time off from work than normal to go to doctor's appointments and such? Would you offer me support? Would you bring me food and offer to clean my house and understand if all I wanted to do was spend a day in bed? Would you let your kids come play at my house and play with my sick child?

You would probably do all those things and more. Because it's okay to have a child who is physically ill.

But MY child is not physically ill...he's mentally ill. And there's a stygma that goes with that. It's not to be discussed, because he MIGHT be in that 30% that's okay and we don't want him labeled. If my son was mentally ill, you'd secretly wonder if it had something to do with our parenting. You think of about a dozen things you'd have done differently that might have "worked". You'd doubt the statistics given out by professionals and claim there probably wasn't much wrong with him other than "being a boy". You probably wouldn't want your kids to play at my house or play with my son. You might not understand my grief...because his life is not in danger. You wouldn't understand the support that I needed....because I wouldn't tell you my son is ill. And even if you knew, you'd look at his handsome smiling face and think that perhaps "I" was the one who had a mental illness, because not only does he look normal....he's beautiful and smart and charming. I'm the one who looks stressed, tired and frazzled, not him.

If I told you that my son had a serious mental illness..... What would you do? What would say?

I will NEVER pee again!!!

Madi woke up Thursday saying that her privates were hurting. I didn't think much about it and sent her on to school. They called later that morning saying she'd had an accident at school and the school nurse thought she had a bladder infection.

I was able to get an appointment for her at 3:30pm that afternoon, and Bob picked her up and school and ran her over to my office and then went back to his basketball practice.

Madi and I went over to the doctor's office together. We didn't have any trouble until the doctor informed her that she'd have to pee into a cup. The doctor refused to perscribe her any antibiotics until she peed in the cup.

Madi went absolutely BIZERK. She said it hurt when she went to pee, and she didn't need to pee anyway, so she WASN'T peeing in that cup. I took her to the bathroom and wrestled her skirt and underwear off of her. And then the fit REALLY began. I can't remember Madi ever acting like that. She screamed....she shrieked....she wailed....she tried to force me to give her clothes back to her. I wasn't going to bend.

She threatened to leave the bathroom and walk back to our exam room, wrap her coat around herself and go home by herself. She said I was the Meanest Mom in the Whole Wide World,and that she was NEVER GOING TO PEE AGAIN!!!!!. She said she was going to yell out the door to the doctor, and the doctor would come and make me give her clothes back to her. She was going to tell Bob what I'd done to her.

I'm sure the ENTIRE office heard everything because all of this was said at the top of her lungs.

Finally I turned the water on at the tap. That REALLY made her need to go pee. She started dancing and screaming and trying to get around me to turn the water off.

We did this for an HOUR. Finally she couldn't hold it any more and ran for the toilet and I managed to get TWO DROPS of pee into the cup. Luckily it was enough for the to test.

As soon as she peed in the cup she was back to her normal happy self. I on the other hand was EXHAUSTED!!!

Our busy season winds down

So now wrestling is over. We are so proud that J.B. got to go to the state tournament last weekend. As he walked off the mat for the last time on Friday, my only thought was "That's the last time I'll get to watch him wrestle." He is done with athletics and a chapter of his life has closed. Soon a new one will begin as he graduates from high school in a few short months. He's been with us almost exactly six months now, and he's come a long, long way.

We have one more set of basketball games for Frank and Libby and we are done for the season. She woke up on Saturday not feeling so well. I called her Coach to ask if they'd have enough girls to play without her. She said she'd only have 5 or6 there, so we dragged ourselves out of bed and drove to Douglas for the game. She went to sleep in the car on the way over there, but she played hard once she got there. She made a great basket during the game. You could hear the "Swoosh" as it went in....nothin' but net. But she admitted on the phone to her Granny later that night that she'd intended to pass the ball to someone, and it just accidentally went into the basket!

After we finished her game, we got in the car and drove to Frank's game at Benton. We made it with 10 minutes to spare. I was in line at the concession stand buying hotdogs for the little girls. I turned around to give Libby her hotdog and noticed she was gone. Madi came out of the girls' bathroom and told me "Mom!!! Libby's in the bathroom throwing up!!!" Poor thing, I hadn't realized she was that sick.

I then had to round up the two little girls who'd just started eating their hotdogs, and take the girls all home. I didn't get to watch any of Frank's game. The little girls were mad they had to go home. They'd just gotten settled in to eat their hotdogs and play with their friends.

Sunday I snuck off from the kids and spent the day with my Mom and Dad painting their living room. We had a great day, its been a long time since I've spent any time with them without 287 kids crawling over us. My husband told me that I would not be able to get away without the kids knowing where I was going. But I simply told them that I had work to do. That satisfied them all except Libby, whom I think was a bit suspicious. She also noticed the paint on my knee later that night after I came home. I played dumb.