Your questions

Tonight I'm going to answer some often-asked questions that some of you (many of you) have asked.
1. Daughter #2 is K and Daughter #3 is L.
2. No, son #3 does not have biology and thus is not having a problem with biology. That was a typo (along with a huge loss of brain function).
3. Yes, I am still planning on going to Kenya (Mom, stop crying). Hopefully everything will be better by mid-April. It's being monitored. I'm sure if it's too dangerous I will not go. We will see.
4. Yes, I'm eating. (OK, not a lot, but I don't think I've lost any weight in a week).
5. I have NO idea if my sister had a problem with LSD. That, however, would explain a LOT!
6. No, still no word from the new doctor. His office is getting assaulted tomorrow.
7. Jim's mom is doing well. She moved to a rehab hospital nearer to home yesterday.
8. Yes, Daughter #1 is interviewing with Harvard this weekend. And no, she won't buy me a t-shirt -- not unless she gets accepted. I, however, am thinking about having a shirt made that says, "My Daughter Got An Interview With Harvard!". She is not amused.
9. To whom it may concern -- as long as your initials are A.C. --- I accept your offer of once a week, which means my week is up! I need an I.V. (and I'm not sucking up when I say you are wonderful.) :)
10. Yes, Son #2 is still doing well in Biology. He has an 83 average (and a test tomorrow). Now if we can just get those other grades up.
and ....
11. I am hanging in there. I still cannot say that I look forward to anything, other than the day I get to go to Heaven, but I'm doing better.

I went to work today and I felt "normal" for a while. Not long, but still .......
January is almost over.
I hope February is less eventful.

I am loved

Several weeks ago someone asked me if I had known "before" how much I am loved. I replied that I thought the past month had shown how much Jim was loved. She said, "No, it shows how much each of you are loved".
I never really thought of myself as a loveable person. I would have said that I was liked by people, but not necessarily loved. I wonder if we all think that? I think Jim did. He would have been floored at the sight of his memorial service, and of the words that were spoken. He never knew how many people he touched--how many lives he affected. I always told him that he was a Godly man, whom people respected and looked up to. I'm not sure he ever fully agreed with me.
I know that Jim loved me more than anyone has or ever will again. I always knew that with every fiber of my being. I didn't understand it, but I knew it. I know that my children and my family love me -- but they have to. If I had been pressed to answer that question in the "before", I would have come up with only a handful of people who I thought truly loved me.
Now I know differently. I still don't understand it, but I know it. Every day since December 17th someone has told me that they love me. Sometimes it's a friend, every day it's one of my children, sometimes it's written in a card. But it's been said every day.
Which is nice because Jim and I told each other that we loved each other every single day. Several times a day. Every time one of us left the house; every phone call; every night before we went to sleep -- even if one (or both) of us was angry with the other.
Every. Single. Day.
Since October, 1981.
Not long enough.

One Xanax later ......

Surgeon #2 called. Everyone's scan looks great. He recommends waiting for a year and then doing an echo (ultrasound). As long as the genetic tests don't show anything the kids can keep getting those every couple of years or so, since they now have the base line measurements. That was the best news I've heard since December 17th. I can breathe a bit easier (well, the Xanax helped).
Now we await news from the new doctor to see how soon we can get Son #2 in.
And we wait 6 months for the genetic results.
We've been waiting a lot lately.
You'd think I'd be an expert.

If it's not one thing .....

.... it's another. I really am ready for God to give me a break.
Still no news from the surgeon. The reports went to the pediatrician yesterday and all of the measurements look normal. We still need to hear that from the man who's never in.
But here's the kicker ... there's something wrong with Son #2's lungs. So now we head to a pediatric pulmonologist. It could be something we can leave alone, or it could be something we have to do something about. The point is, it's something.
And today I received an e-mail from the financial person who I thought was a friend, but turned out not to be. He wants to call me for a talk ("more than a minute, less than ten"). The "before" me would have done it, for him. But the "after" me knows that my mind and body cannot handle much more. My hands were shaking as I read his e-mail and I cried as I replied to him. I told him that I can't, that he had devastated me, and that I couldn't believe that someone who was supposedly a friend had done that to me, especially at this time in my life. I told him that I (in my ignorance) had assumed he was offering his help as a friend, the way so many of our friends had, not because he wanted/needed my money. And I asked him to not ever call me.
And then I went to work. It was good to be back.
Now I get to go pick up Son #2 from school and talk to him about the next medical step (and try not to yell at him because he's not turning in homework and continuing to fail).
My stomach hurts. And I just want to take a nap.
A very, very long nap.

I'm going to be happy today .....

I wish it were that easy. I try to decide that first thing in the morning. I focus on the kids and what Jim would want. I manage to to be "ok" for about 10 minutes. Then a cloud just sort of settles over and in me. I know that Jim would be heartbroken to know that the only future I look forward to is the one after this life.
I think that will change, I guess it will just take time. A lot of time.
I do think things have gotten better. I can now take it one day at a time. It used to be one minute at a time. And the days aren't full of the strong desire to not be here anymore. That's definitely an improvement.
In other news --- I think I'm beginning to hate a certain cardiac surgeon.
Daughters #2 & #3 are coming home this weekend. It will be good to have them here.
Daughter #1 is leaving for Boston this weekend to interview with a certain Ivy league school. She doesn't want me to tell people in case she doesn't get in. But she refuses to read the blog, so there. Besides, I keep trying to tell her that most people don't even know someone who got an interview with that school, so she should be very proud of herself. Jim would have been hugely proud of her. Well, he was anyway.
Of all of us.

Half

Tonight I went to a meeting with people from church. Everyone but me was a couple. I am a half. I live in a world of couples, something I never realized "before". Even as I looked around that room and counted the couples represented (around 10) I didn't feel as horrible as I expected to. I love the people in that room. I felt safe, even though it made me sad. I'd rather not be a "half" and I expect it will continue to make me sad, but at least I was there. I guess that's something.
I don't expect to do many other "couple" things.

Another week down

That's how it feels --- another week of my life done. One less ahead. Morbid, isn't it? Oh well.
Son #2's biology teacher was fabulous yesterday. She plans on testing him orally for the rest of the year. She talked to his algebra teacher, who is also going to try that.
I talked to his principal yesterday and we're going to investigate further on the best way to teach him. He's been "special ed" before and it was horrible for him. I know that it's not that bad to be labeled, for many kids. I also know what's better for him.
We have a lot to consider. I'm encouraged by his teacher and her willingness to find out more about how to teach him.
The surgeon didn't get the last 2 scans done. I'm trying to not think about it.
I talked to Jim's mom today --- she sounded really well. She wants to go home. Jim's brother told me that they did send her tissue down here.
I went to see "Jersey Boys" today -- the singing was great. I'm pooped.
My awesome friend M came over yesterday to take several photo albums home. She's going to put a lot of pictures on disks for me.
Oh by the way, drunkenness was not achieved last night. I don't think my body is capable of that (at this point in time). I did manage to have 3 glasses of wine over a 6 hour time period. That was huge for me.
Kind of sad, isn't it?
Oh, I had some awesome Bloody Mary's this morning (thank you so much, A).
I know it sounds like my life revolves around alcohol at the moment --- I'd probably be a lot more relaxed if it really did.
I'm going to have to work a lot harder.
:)

In other news .....

.... he made an 85. Yes, a B.
I think I'm going to get drunk tonight.

Four down, two to go

Short post, for now.
Daughter #1 and Son #3's scans are normal. We were told that he would do the other two today, too. Hopefully he will.

It's hard to believe ....

...... but he flunked. God has yet to make things easier for Son #2. No matter how hard I pray. And, it seems, no matter how hard other people pray. On a positive note, the biology teacher knows that he knows more than he can seem to put on paper. His tutor says that he knows 80-85%. So his teacher is going to keep him after school tomorrow and give him some of the questions orally. And she's going to try to get some info on tips to teach him because the boy cannot test well. So I ask the people in my school district (in the "before" Jim would know who to turn to) -- what can be done with a 15 year old who cannot test? I do NOT want him classified as special ed just because he's an oral learner. But is that my only option? To make him feel singled out and labeled? I wish God would just mess around with my life and allow Son #2 to have one stinking positive semester. (I said I was letting go of the anger about Jim's death, not about Son #2).
In other news, there is no news. Someone needs to threaten legal action to get this guy to read the films that HE insisted (when he told me Jim died) needed to be done A.S.A.P. He indicated this was a life & death issue. He's causing me stress.
And in yet other news, Jim's mom is doing very well. She was moved to a private room today and sounded great on the phone (to her Son #2). So that is wonderful and a relief. As her Son #2 says, "It's about time something went right."
Yes. It. Is.

Done .... for now

The boys did well with their scans today. And Jim's mom came through her surgery well. She'll be in ICU for a couple of days. So again we wait. Our surgeon will hopefully read all 4 films tomorrow and we'll be done, for now. They want more tests done but I hope they're not in a hurry. I seem to barely have the strength to use my computer keyboard. We need a break. I'd like a break from life but that doesn't seem to be an option at the moment. Maybe this summer the kids and I will disappear for a bit.
Today was long and blue, even though things went well. I seem to have moved backwards.
Son #2 will take his biology final tomorrow after school. He seems to be ready to at least pass it. We shall see. I have learned over the years that that is also something I cannot trust.
I have a watch that I bought in the Caymans from a store that sells t-shirts (etc) that change colors in the sun. The watch is silver and face is pale --- until sunlight hits it. Then the face turns a lovely shade of pink. I feel like that watch. Most of the time I feel pale but once in a while, when the sunshine of my friends is with me, I can feel myself change color.
I cannot thank my friends and family enough for all they've done and continue to do. They are all functioning for me. I feel like an idiot sometimes because I can't seem to do that yet. I can play tennis (somewhat), why can't I function in the rest of my life?
Just when I think I can, or I'm about to, Jim's absence knocks the breath out of me.
Oh my God ----- I -- miss -- him.

And down we go .....

So much for one relatively good day. See, I can't trust that. Wonder if I ever will again?
Today started out with a bang. Son #2 over slept and missed the bus. Thank goodness for friends who respond to drugged phone calls. The sleeping meds work, but I need to sleep the correct number of hours to let them wear off the way they're supposed to.
Then I went to lunch with my mom and some wonderful friends. I had a much-needed margarita, which only made me sleepier and so I slept through the first half of "27 Dresses". Which is a good thing because Daughter #1 was unhappy that I was going to see it without her. Now I can go see it again.
Then straight to another meeting and home around 6:30. I shouldn't have checked my e-mail. It seems Son #2 is flunking Algebra, yet again. He didn't turn in the only 2 homework assignments from the past 2 weeks and he made a 46 on a test. And then he got mad because the dogs are no longer here. And then I lost all control of my emotions and broke down. I tried to explain to him how hard this is for me. How hard everything is for me now that my best friend and heart are gone. How hard it is for me to have to make all of the decisions for the rest of my life.
I cannot feel anything but exhaustion and despair tonight.
Add to that the fact that my mother-in-law's surgery is tomorrow and her surgeon's office was not cooperating with sending tissue down here for the genetics testing. So that was a mad scramble and I still don't know if they'll help us.
And tomorrow the boys have their CT scans. I dread trying to get the barium down them. It will be a very long day. We'll be there from 11:30 to probably 2:00. And then we wait ..... some more. The surgeon is supposed to be back in the office on Thursday, so hopefully he'll look at all 4 scans then.
Oh, and Daughter #1 hit a curb today while trying to avoid having a semi slam into her. One tire completely ruined.
And Mom's plane was 2 hours late, but she had to go to the airport at the regular time and she's probably still sitting there. She won't get home until 1:00 a.m.
And for the first time since December, no cards came in the mail. I'm not writing that to complain or for guilt or pity. It just is. I knew the day would come. Life does go on.
For other people.

You never know

Today was a pretty decent day (in spite of the fact that I have another flaming infection, mostly unbeknownst to me -- I really need to find out what language my body speaks).
I played tennis today with my Monday team and it was good. I actually had moments of feeling happy. I guess when you let go of anger it makes a little room for something else.
I also signed up for the April Kenya trip today. I realized a couple of weeks ago that I need to go back. I have to go back.
I know that some people have expressed an interest in going (but with the ADD and memory loss I now seem to have, I'm doing well to remember that much), so if you're reading this and you think you might want to go, or would like more info, e-mail me. There are about 10 spots left.
Mom did not leave tonight -- the flight was over-booked. So she's booked for tomorrow night. I'm glad. So is she.
I think the fact that I can't think about Jim is starting to affect my dreams. I must be suppressing thoughts that come out in my sleep. I don't remember what I dreamed last night, but it involved him and I woke up crying, real tears. Sigh
So while I am glad for the relatively good day, I know that it won't stay like this. Each day is not a continuation of the day before. But sometimes that's a good thing.
And I will just appreciate the good while it's here.

It's time

As I sat in church today a thought came to me. It was during the reading of the Bible passage (which was before the sermon -- don't want any pastors getting big heads here). As everyone opened their Bibles to the passage to read along, I stared at one for a minute or so. I haven't touched a Bible since the cruise. I wasn't going to touch one today. And then I leaned forward and took it out of the rack in front of me. I starting turning to the passage as I thought, "It's time." It is time to let go of my anger. Jim is not coming back, no matter how angry I am with God. I'm tired. It's time. I know that many of you are also angry. I think you should hold on to that anger until the time is right for you to let it go. It's going to be different for all of us. I just don't think I have the strength to carry it anymore. I still can't quite comprehend that this is my life now, nor can I think about Jim for more than a few seconds without breaking down. But I need to make friends with God again. He's been a strong presence in my life for almost 40 years. I know He's still here, understanding and waiting.
Who knows what tomorrow or the next day may bring? The roller coaster may take me to anger again.
We'll see.

Brain dead

It is difficult to believe how much the human mind, soul & body can endure. There has got to be a time coming (soon) when all of mine will give out. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.
My mother-in-law is having her surgery Wednesday, the same day all three boys will have their CT scans.
V left today. She is mentally and physically drained, too. Past drained, really. I'll never be able to thank her enough for all that she did for me. I know that I don't have to thank her, but I do.
Today my friends hung with me. And another friend cleaned out my gutters. And yet another has just taken on a huge role to help me.
I am blessed, ironically.

One month

I hate the 18th -- no matter the month, I guess.
I thought today would be relaxing and better. I'm so tired of being wrong.
It was a blue day, in spite of my wonderful friends and mom. It's good to have them around and I don't know what I'd do without them. V has been a huge life line for me. I've cried several times today at the thought of her leaving tomorrow. I know she'll be back in a couple of weeks.
The surgeon is still out so he hasn't seen the films. However, the radiologist's report came back normal. I will breathe a bit easier once the surgeon confirms that, hopefully on Monday.
I got a call from the university today (the Dean's office). They apologized and asked if I needed them to do anything else to make this right. I told them the apology was enough.
I did get a good call about our health insurance. Daughter #1's coverage was up Dec 31st and I was paying for COBRA. I was told today that since Jim died before that date her insurance would be paid for a year (like mine and the other 5). So that's one less thing I have to pay for (the monthly insurance payments, not the medical care).
Then I got an e-mail today that shocked and hurt me more than I can say --- I cannot believe someone would do this to me.
A man who used to work with Jim wrote me yesterday, asking if he could meet with me to discuss my financial future. I thought the company he worked for was an insurance company (whom Jim had a policy with). I sent him an e-mail telling him that I had decided to use a trust company, but thanked him for being there for me (I know him and his wife). He sent me an e-mail today telling me how disappointed he is with me and upset that I wouldn't consider using him. He gets paid by bringing in business and this job is difficult for his wife because his paycheck depends on business from people like me. Then he proceeded to list out several reasons why I should use him -- all because he was Jim's "mentor" and responsible for Jim being where he was and what he was (I'm certain Jim would dispute that). He didn't say, but indicated with every word --- I owe him.
I am still stunned. I could hardly talk through the pain and tears and nausea he caused (even as he wrote, "I hope I'm not causing you pain"). I thought he was a friend. Wrong --- again.
I wish God would cut me some slack.

Still waiting

No news from the surgeon yet. Two more meetings today. None tomorrow. My back hurts. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Nothing new there.
My mom is here. I'm glad. She wishes she could make it all better. So do I. It makes me realize all of the things that I won't be able to make better for my kids. I could mostly do that when they were two. Now ... not so much.
Oh, guess which university has now extended its apologies? OK, I shouldn't paint the whole university. It was only 2 women. The first one did send an e-mail to the girls to apologize this morning. The second woman (the head of the cashier's office) apologized to my friend (who's making all of my phone calls at the moment) this morning. She then apologized to Daughter #3 today in a meeting -- after a while. My friend called the Dean's office (early this morning) and spoke to his assistant, who was horrified that this had happened. She tried to call me on my cell today. She said she will try again.
I'm glad that's over.
I wish I had something fantastically funny to say. Oh -- this isn't fantastic, but it may be a bit humorous. Guess what my mom noticed this afternoon after Son #2 came home?
The open pantry doors.
And so life goes on.

29 days later

Two mind-numbing meetings down, one to go (tomorrow). Cried again at the beginning -- then did OK.
No news yet on the latest CT scan --- the surgeon wasn't in. Maybe tomorrow.
My brother-in-law left tonight. He worked hard today. I'm sure he's mentally and physically exhausted.
My wonderful friend from Okla is staying another day or two to help with more of the financial stuff. I love her.
I don't think I'm going to make a trip Oklahoma. We will find out tomorrow when the surgery will be, but I don't think I can do it. I get physically ill whenever I think about it. I feel like I should go but I also feel as if I've hit my limit. I may have to admit defeat on this one (another thing I hate).
Two people were contacted at "the" university today --- no apologies were offered. The woman (and her higher up) would not even admit that anything was inappropriately handled. That's "just the way they do things". NIce, huh? We're trying the president's office tomorrow.
I'd love to crawl into my bed and stay there for a long time.

I think it's impossible ....

.... for me to be any more exhausted than I feel. It was a long morning. I teared up at the very beginning but managed to keep it together.
Daughter #1 survived the CT scan. We take the films to the surgeon tomorrow. Hopefully he'll be in the office and can look at them soon.
Tomorrow is also the tax accountant. That should be so far over my head that I won't remember a thing. My goal is not to hyperventilate. We'll see.
My brother-in-law leaves tomorrow night to go to Okla to spend some time with his parents. I shall also try not to hyperventilate when he leaves. I expect to be less successful with that.
Oh, and here's the very, very best part of my day: Daughter #3 called this morning as I was on my way to the attorney's office:
Her: "I have something to tell you that's going to be stressful. Do you want me to send you an e-mail or tell you now?"
Me: pause -- "Tell me now."
Her: "I just got an e-mail from the cashier's office. There's something wrong with the tuition check that you sent. The e-mail said, "I realize this has been a difficult time for your family, but if you don't wire or send a cashier's check by Friday, you're classes will be cancelled". Oh, and "your check writing privileges are now suspended".

This is from a well-known Baptist university (i.e.: a "Christian" university) whose president sent the girls a hand-signed note of condolence. Whose deans have sent cards. Whose professors have called. Guess the cashier's office doesn't share the compassion.

Yes, I made an error when I wrote the check but forgot to transfer the funds from another account. We have never been late with anything at the school. I am paying tuition for two people. My banker should have caught it, but didn't. So there we are.
He did take care of it today and was very apologetic (to my friend, who worked in banking for a long time and really gave him an earful). But I still blame the woman in the cashier's office, whom Daughter #3 went to talk to personally today. She said she just kept a smile on her face, said, "I know it's a difficult time, but either pay or get dropped... in two days." Daughter #3 wanted to slap her. I almost wish she had.
I would love to post her name and phone number here --- you don't know how much control it's taking me to not do that.
So, just when you think it's not possible to be more exhausted or get more stress thrown on you .... you do.
My first thought when the surgeon told me that night about the train wreck of a surgery was this:
"What are You thinking? What the hell are You thinking?!". That seems to be the closest thing to a prayer that I've managed.
And I'm still asking Him that.

5 steps back

It's amazing how two relatively "good" days can be shot to hell in just one hour.
I sat down with my brother-in-law and a friend who has been awesome and volunteered his expertise as a financial person. I lasted about 30 minutes -- maybe. And then I was right back to square one --- not believing that I'm sitting there having to have this discussion. Not believing that this is my life and that I have to deal with this for "40 + years". I don't want to be here 40 + days without Jim, let alone years. I don't blame the guys --- I have to deal with the stuff. I just wish I could deal with this stuff.
Tomorrow Daughter #1 has her CT scan. I have to go the attorney's office at the same time. I have two great friends going with her and two great friends going with my brother-in-law and me. The next morning we go to the tax accountant's office. What a fun week.
It's time for an Ambien.

Well, almost.

Almost made it through a day without crying. Almost. I wonder when that will happen? I feel so dehydrated that I'm amazed that I still have tears.
I did make it through church without crying. It was a close call once or twice, but I did it. Not that I think that's something to accomplish, just something notable.
Daughter #3 asked me when the feeling of "waking up from this" would be over. I had no answers. I told her that I wasn't sure, but that maybe it would slowly happen so that you don't think it so many times in one day. I'm already getting there, but the kids are not. I haven't lost my father.  Yet.  I have no answers for them.  My heart is broken from being torn in half and it also hurts for them.  They have lost the most important man in their life.  And there's nothing I can do to make that hurt go away.  I can't kiss away this boo-boo.  I can't make it all better.  I've never felt so incompetent in my life.
The disbelief is still there but I know that this is my life. The blackness is still out there, surrounding me and ahead of me, but the past two days it has become a lighter shade of black. Barely.
But I guess that's something.

Friends

Daughters #2 & #3 have gone back to school. I'm not gonna lie -- it was tough. But another hurdle jumped. I'm tired.
I wanted to let everyone outside of my town know how well I'm being taken care of. This may be a huge post.
First, I have meals, which is great because I can't even seem to put a piece of bread in the toaster.
Next, I have someone totally in charge of all of the medical stuff that's going on. Words cannot express how grateful I am to her.
Two of my sweet friends came over yesterday and planted all of the plants from the service in and around our yard.
I have people picking up family and friends from the airport. I have friends who have driven me to tennis and more.
I have a friend from church coming over today to replace a toilet. Another godly man.
I have a friend working on getting air mile accounts worked out.
I have a friend who deals with the funeral home and everything that goes with it.
I have a friend who takes all of my calls for help and finds someone to help me.
I have friends who have stayed the night with us.
I have friends who took down the Christmas tree, put all of the decorations up in the attic, cleaned up the house -- and made a toast to Jim, while we were on the cruise.
I have friends who have brought me comfortable clothes to hang around the house in.
I have friends who totally took over my house and my life that first week. Though I don't remember much of it, I know they took wonderful care of me and the kids.
I have friends who don't want to leave my house.
I have friends who would love to come over every day and stay with us.
I have a friend who took the two outside dogs and got them adopted the first day (if I can't toast I certainly couldn't handle those two anymore).
I have a friend who has taken our other dog to her home, without asking me when she gets to bring her back (the dog is living with her sister and much happier there).
I have a friend who has volunteered to tutor Son #2.
I have a friend who has Son #2 at Starbucks this very moment, helping him with a paper.
I have a friend who's coming over later to help Son #2 with another paper.
I have a friend who helped Daughter #1 get a copy editing job at one of our local papers.
I have friends who took our cars in while we were on the cruise to have work done on them.
I have a friend who has taken care of Son #1's car and the estimates from two different fender benders (not his fault). The car is currently being fixed.
I have a brother-in-law who's coming tomorrow to help me with the "business' part of this. The stuff that makes my head swim and my heart race.
I have friends who've bought groceries.
I have friends taking special care of Daughter #1, the vegetarian.
I have a friend who's taking the boys to the lake to show them how to winterize the boat.
I have more than 50 tennis friends (some who don't even know me that well) who contributed to pay for my brother and my sister to fly here (so never listen to those "snobby tennis-women stories! They are awesome).
I have friends who run errands for me.
I have friends who cry with me.
My friend of 30+ years is coming from Okla today to stay for a few days.
I have a friend who's a vet who took the kitten in to get fixed and de-clawed.
I have a friend who came over to cut the girls' hair. Twice.
I have friends who have sent Thank You notes for me (I have decided that the practice of writing Thank You notes after the death of a loved one is barbaric. So I apologize to all of you who expect one, all of you who follow Emily Post, and to all of you who deserve one. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to handle that. So I want to say Thank You for each plant, each flower, each meal. You're wonderful.).
I thank my Okla friends for planning to come sit with me when my mother-in-law has her surgery. I will need as many of you as possible.
I am positive that I'm leaving many, many of you out. I'm sorry. I think I've mentioned before that I have ADD now. Severe ADD. And memory loss. Also severe.
All of you would have made Jim cry at the way you're taking care of us.
I know you won't stop.

24 days later

If I have to watch one more episode of "America's Next Top Model" my brain is going to completely ooze out of my ears.
For some odd reason all three girls seem to be able to lose themselves in that show -- and it seems to be a never-ending marathon. I think this is definitely contributing to my severe ADD and memory loss. Well, that and .................. you know.
Daughter #1's CT scan is set for Tuesday morning. I'm trying to put that out of my mind.
Today I went to a luncheon with some of the women from one of my tennis teams. I love those women.
It was sort of good to get out and do something from "before" -- even if it's not the "before" me.
I want to say hi to all of the GPhiBs that have commented, e-mailed and sent cards. I love you all and each of you has made me smile. Thank you. I hope to see you in April.
And to everyone - thank you. I'm still here and you're a huge part of that. Thank you for your comments, cards, e-mails (I read everything --- I rarely answer but I do read) and your calls. And thank you for your love and your prayers. Today I had a glimmer for a nano-second: "I will survive and still have God." Then it was gone. Like a flash.
But it was there.

Perfect?

(ummmmm .... you probably shouldn't read any post that's written after 9:00 p.m. --- proceed with caution)
So, "perfect" seems to be a relative term. I think the surgeon's nurse meant "perfect...... for now". She said they would need scans every year. We're hoping the geneticist doesn't agree. We thought that, as long as they don't find a "gene", the kids would be in the clear. Forever.
I'm trying to focus on the "now" and be happy that they don't show any signs of this ....... I'm not sure what to call it ..... this "condition". But it's very, very difficult (LL---I can so totally relate to what you've described on your blog -- the fear to be happy). It's like I can't let myself be happy in case the rug is pulled out from under me--again. And I hate that. I hate sounding so negative all of the time. Aren't all of you sick of this yet? I am and yet I can't seem to help myself. Yes, I know it's only been a little over 3 weeks but I still hate it.
On a less negative note, the girls and I went to see "Altar Boyz" again. Daughters #2 & #3 hadn't seen it before. It was nice to smile and laugh.
So welcome to my roller coaster --- you never know what to expect.

Two down ......

and finally, something good. My lovely, lovely friend took the CT films straight to the surgeon and asked that he try to look at them soon, since the girls have to leave Saturday to go back to school and were very stressed about the results. She got as far as the parking lot when they called to say, 'They're perfect." She was sobbing. I am cautiously happy.
Two down, four to go (plus the genetic results from Jim).
Thank you, thank you, thank you for your prayers. Please keep them going.

Just trying to breathe

In two hours the girls will start drinking (trying to drink) the "barium smoothie" (yum?!). I wish I could do it for them. Although I know I'd never be able to keep it down so I guess that wouldn't help.
The thought of sitting in a waiting room now makes me very nauseous. The last wait didn't go so well.
I just hope I don't hyperventilate and embarrass them. I'm making no promises.
On a side note (because i know you just don't have enough to pray about) Jim's mom will be having heart surgery in a couple of weeks --- totally unrelated to him. She's needed a valve replaced for years and now it's no longer a choice. So I guess I'll be going to Oklahoma in a couple of weeks and sitting in another waiting room, trying not to hyperventilate.
It feels like God hates me.

I'm scared

Daughters #2 & #3 go in tomorrow for their CT scans, complete with barium and IVs. Daughter #1 will have hers on Monday. Then the boys will follow. I received some info about another family who's gone through this exact thing. One sibling has already had heart surgery and now one of the children has to have it. I am trying so hard not to panic but I hardly have the energy to function, let along control any emotions.
I want to believe that God would not do this to us. But I don't trust that He won't.
My children want to believe that God would not do this to us.  But they don't trust that he won't.
Their father is gone.
Forever.
How do we learn to trust again?
How?

One down ....

One big day down. Now all I have to go through in the next 4 months is Son #1's 18th birthday and his graduation, Daughters #2 & #3's 21st birthdays and our 25th anniversary. I seriously feel nauseous when I think about it.
Anyway, yesterday was not as horrible as I had expected. Of course, you have to realize that "horribleness" is a relative term now. Each day is horrible at the moment; some are more or less so.
I did get out with 3 good friends and played some sloppy tennis. It was good to be out there. It feels different now, as everything does. It feels like I'm a shell, not at all whole, doing things that I used to do as a whole person. But, I'm glad I did it.
Last night the kids & I had a few close friends over to have the rum cake we bought for his birthday and champagne (I'm sorry that we couldn't have invited more people and had a party, but I could only manage something small. Maybe next year). We toasted Jim and we cried and we laughed.
It sounds strange but the kids & I need to see men cry over Jim. (And no, it not because, as he told the girls a million times, "Men are no damn good!") I think it touches us to see how very much he meant to the men around us and to see them being open and honest with their sorrow.
So thank you MB for the toast ..... and the tears.

I just can't say it

I wish I could, but I cannot make myself say "happy" anything. Today is Jim's birthday. He should be here so we could hang up the sign we use for every birthday. He should be getting the cake his assistant made for him every year at work. He should be here so I could make one of his favorite meals for dinner along with a spice cake, also his favorite.
I think that the only gift he would want this year is for my day not to suck as bad as I think it will.
I wish I could give him that gift.  But I can't.
And neither can the kids.  Their father is gone.  They need him.  They want him.  He should be here for them.
But here we are .... all 7 of us .... without him.
And it sucks.

Dreaming

Last night, for the first time in the "after", I had a dream with Jim in it. But it was him as a ghost (though he looked alive) and we we sitting at a table talking. I don't remember what we talked about. But I remember this: I start crying, really hard, and then asked, "Why did you leave?". He looked sad and hurt and then I woke up.
It seems very strange that it's taken almost 3 weeks for me to dream about him.
Well, we went to church today -- another step taken. We arrived a bit late and left a bit early. The sermon was great -- thanks B.W. He made me smile. The songs made me cry. And I totally broke down when I attempted to sign the little registration card. I just couldn't write my name down without his beside it. So Daughter #2 took it and did it for me. See, it's the little things. The little things that slam you in the head and heart like very big things.
I hope today is a relatively "good" day. The sun is shining and it's in the mid-70's. I need some "good" today because I imagine that tomorrow will be very, very difficult.

One step forward ....

..... five steps back.
Today has been a bad day. I haven't managed to get out of my p.j.s and probably won't (though I guess it's good that I didn't stay in bed!). I am so sick of this unpredictability. And I hate that I can't count on a "good" feeling to linger. Because even though I know I can't count on it, I can still feel that I'm hoping it might. But it doesn't.
And I hate this "after" Janine. I hate that she is so low and sad and depressed and sad and negative and sad. The "before" Janine would want her to "Snap out of it!". She would've told her to stop being negative and start moving forward. She would've encouraged her to write some humorous and witty posts to cheer up everyone. But the "before" me left on December 18th.
I don't blame her.

Consider yourself warned

OK, I should never post in the morning. Wait -- no I should post whenever I post because it's what I'm feeling at that moment (and I never know what's going to come on the page when I sit down). Mornings are horrible. Absolutely, positively dark and sad. And the earlier, the sadder (I wish I could say that no other time of the day is that bad, but I never know). So, you should always look at the very end of each post to see what time I made it. Then decide whether you want to read it or not. You've been warned.
In other news, yes, I went to the doctor yesterday. And, for the first time in my life, I am "medicated" (how's that for open and honest?). I'm sure many of you are thinking I should've done this years ago. Whatever.
Anyway, it's not my doctor's practice to mix grieving and medication (evidently a high percentage of people never get off). So she wasn't heading down that road. Then she asked more probing questions and decided rather quickly that she was, indeed, going to medicate. I was somewhat surprised that she didn't make me swallow a pill right in front of her.
I know that many, if not most, of you are breathing a sigh of relief. So am I (even though she said I probably won't be able to "emote" as well, so sorry to all you blog readers). I was afraid that soon I wouldn't be sane enough to know that the thoughts in my head were scary.
But I am also sad. This would've broken Jim's heart. Not because I needed to take something but because it was needed because of anything that had to do with him.
The girls and I went to a movie today. It was a "normal" activity and it felt good. So, yay for that.
And now, I have to burden you with yet another prayer request. And this one is, again, quite large.
The kids are going to start genetic testing this week. There's a huge chance that what Jim died from is hereditary. So there is another road ahead. Of course my prayer is that it's not. That it was just a freaky, rare (which it was) once-in-my-lifetime experience and that this is not something that's going to hang over their heads for the rest of their lives. I can't trust that my prayer will be answered so please pray hard for me.
However I do realize that, if it is herediatry, and it can be watched and controlled for the next 80 plus years, then Jim saved his children's lives. And maybe his siblings' and/or their children's.
And he would've volunteered to do that in a heartbeat.
But my children are grieving their father.  And now they are scared that they may have the same thing happen to them.  It's all such a huge unknown.
All I can do is support them as best I can, and tell them that if this is, indeed, something they have inherited, then their father saved their lives.
Somehow .... those words ring hollow.
They need him.  They miss him.
Just as I do.  Differently, yes.  But just as intensely.

Prayer

To pray or not to pray? I wish it was a question, but it's not. Not when it comes to my ability. I simply can't. It's not that I won't. I can't. I cannot form words. It actually feels physical. And yes, emotional. I am angry. And stunned. And grieved. And empty. And hopeless. And angry ... oh wait, I already used that one, didn't I? And angry.
Does that mean I don't want others to pray? I know that some of you are in the same boat as I am --- well, not in the same boat, but your boats are rowing next to mine. I've had many friends tell me that praying is difficult for them now.
So that means that the rest of you have a heavy, heavy load. Because the kids and I need your prayers desperately. I'm counting on the prayers of everyone. And I thank you so very much.
My head knows that this anger won't last forever. It knows that this pain cannot stay at this intensity. But my heart sees no end. My heart, or what's left of it, sees nothing but a long and dark tunnel ahead -- without Jim to hold my hand.
So please keep praying.

One more day

I have made it through another day. Somehow, that seems like a major victory at the moment.
This morning was bad -- then I met with my pastor, and more importantly - my friend (and Jim's) for almost two hours. And that was good. And hard. And sad. But good. I think we may have counseled each other at different times.
Daughters #2 & #3 hit the road today for a reunion with friends a couple of hours away. I've never been the kind of parent that panics or is over-protective, but things have changed. I could feel panic on New Year's Eve when all 3 girls were out. I hate this part of "after". I guess I pretty much hate everything about "after".
I ran a couple of errands today and was helped by a man who asked, "So how was your New Years?" I paused for a moment and then realized that I can no longer say "fine, thanks" when someone asks me a question like that. I can't say it when asked "How are you?", either. It's amazing to me how often we all say that -- when we don't really feel it. It's automatic, isn't it? Or it was. "Before".
So I said, "It was." He didn't really catch on -- he's so used to asking and receiving the same answers that I don't think he noticed. I must've seemed normal. I feel like my face looks normal but my eyes are so very dead. How could he not notice?
But then, I was glad that he didn't. He seemed to having a good day. I was actually a bit envious.
I'd like to have one of those again.
But maybe "surviving" is as good as it gets.
For now.

I am so very, very tired

I love this picture.
It's so strange to me that my day can change a million times in 24 hours. And so quickly that I can't seem to catch my breath when it happens. I have found out that I cannot count on a "good" feeling, not at all. Today started out with me feeling better than yesterday (actually, I couldn't possibly feel any worse so I knew it had to go up a notch or two). But things can come crashing down around me before I know it. And I hate that. Absolutely 100% hate it. I am not familiar with this roller coaster and I'd like to get off. And really, it's not actually a roller coaster because the ride never goes up. Ever. It either stays a bit level or plunges down. And down. And down.
And I feel tired. More tired than I ever imagined possible. Tired of the pain. Tired of trying to be strong. Tired of the effort of breathing.
And so very tired of missing him.

A funny thing .........

OK, well, not funny "ha-ha" (unless you're a seriously evil person who delights in the pain of others, and yes, I know there are those kind of people -yuk), but funny, as in "strange": I had the OSU bowl game on yesterday (YAY POKES!) and would walk in and out of the room while it was on (because I, of course, have developed a very serious case of ADD now) and the Cowboys were ahead at one point, 28-10. I saw that score and my first thought was, "I have to tell Jim!". It seems so very strange to me that my mind has still not accepted this "after". I know it's "normal" and will continue for some time, but I still think it's strange.
I wish I could wish all of you a happy New Year, but I can't. Well, I could say, or type, the words (obviously), but they'd be very flat and not heart-felt. I'm sorry. It's not that I don't wish (and someday, hope -- that's not really back yet, either) everyone I know and love a year in which to be happy. It's just that that word is beyond my comprehension right now. I do wish good things for all of you and I wish for you lots and lots and lots of time with your loved ones. Lots.
OK, I refuse to end this on the same note as yesterday (which, by the way, was a very scary day for me -- for a while).
So, I'd like to think that God has a huge TV in Heaven that gets the NFL channel. Because Jim would have been very, very happy with that game. Daughter #1 said that if we're supposed to be happy in Heaven, Jim was indeed watching that game (and NOT singing). :)
On another note that will make you smile: Son #1 passed a HUGE test yesterday. I'm talking monstrously HUGE. He volunteered to go to the grocery store for me. One of the daughters (she will have to "out" herself, in case she's less than thrilled that I added this) thought that she'd see how sincere he really was about going:

Her: "You're going to the store?" (add sly, wicked smile here --- kind of like Jim's)
Him: "Yes. Do you need anything?"
Her: "Why yes, yes I do."
Him: " What?"
Her: "Tampons."
Him: --silence--
Her: "Tampax. Pearl. Regular."
Him: -- looking a bit like a deer in the headlights-but only a bit--"Are you serious?" -- looking from me to her, to me and back to her.
Her: "Yes I am."
Him: --pause-- "OK."
Me: "Son #1, if do this then you are indeed your father's son."

And he did. Without even making a phone call from that aisle to get any clarification at all.
And this week ---- he's teaching Son #2 how to shave.
He will not be able to enter SMU in August w/o me with a death grip on his ankle, dragging behind him, screaming and crying. No way.
I love my kids. So, so much.
And so does Jim.