It's Been Two Years: Our Make a Wish Journey

Today, Facebook reminded me that two years ago, Anthony received his welcome package from the

Make a Wish Foundation.  It was an emotional day for all of us.  Anthony got an envelope full of booklets and fun things to help guide him in choosing his wish.

Since then, we have met so many amazing people with some of the biggest hearts in the world.  From the Make a Wish team, to other Make a Wish families, to the RCMP personel who surprised Anthony with fishing gear and other gifts, to all the volunteers and donors at the fundraisers we've attended... we will never be able to say thank you enough times or loud enough to show how much gratitude we feel.

Now, because of Covid, all of the Make a Wish fundraising get togethers had to be cancelled.  We were

scheduled to be at at least one of these to share our story.  Because we can't, I decided to share the speech I was set to give here in hopes that it reaches some people and inspires them to also become a part of the Make a Wish family, whether is is in form of donor or volunteer. For more information the the Make a Wish organization itself, head over to their website HERE.

Hello everyone,

I’d like to start by thanking Allyson for inviting us to tell our story tonight. Anthony's journey started 5 weeks earlier than it should have. We were fortunate to have an easy delivery and no subsequent complications. We started life as new parents hopeful and completely in love with our little man. It turns out, no book out there could have prepared us for what was about to happen.

The first 18 months of his life were hard, but we were told by our family doctor at the time, normal. A

lot of new babies don't sleep. A lot of babies scream 10 hours a day, it’s just colic. When Anthony failed to hit any of his growth and advancement markers like sitting, talking, walking, we were told, well, he's a boy. He'll catch up. (Side note, we got a new family doctor)

When he was 18 months old, Anthony died. What started out as a fun family visit at his gramma and papa's turned into every parent's worst nightmare. We had laid him down for his nap. He was crying, which was usual, when suddenly he stopped. Not his usual calm down to a whimper then fall asleep cry. Just stopped. We checked on him and saw he'd thrown up. After cleaning him up, we noticed he wasn’t himself. He didn’t seem to be seeing us in front of him. His eyes rolled back into his head and he stopped breathing. Now, my husband Kyle is the best driver I know. That afternoon, you’d have argued with me over that statement. I don’t think it took us more than three minutes to get from his parent's house to the Victoria hospital. I remember passing someone on the wrong side, going over a corner when traffic stopped. I remember my baby turning blue in my arms.

When we got to the hospital, the nurses grabbed Anthony from Kyle's arms. There is no describing the feeling of watching your child get whisked away and them not letting you in the room. Of hearing the words Pediatrics to the ER. Code blue, code blue. There is no room more terrible than that little room they put you in while you wait to find out if your son will survive

Thankfully, the staff at the hospital that day were amazing and we will forever be grateful to them for bringing Anthony back to us.

The next couple of years after that day were filled with diagnoses and information overloads. But it didn’t matter, because Anthony was alive and we were finally getting answers. MRIs, EEGs, and specialist galore later, Anthony was diagnosed with cerebral palsy with autistic tendencies and an uncontrolled seizure disorder. With his cerebral palsy, he has partial left side hemiplagia which means he is partially paralyzed on his left side. As for the autism, he hates new places, big crowds, loud noises… so events like these are pretty much his worst nightmare. But he’s a trooper and I’m so proud of him for being here. Uncontrolled seizure disorder pretty much explains itself. We can never stop them all. All we do is try to manage the worst of them.

There have been many trips to the ER and overnight hospital stays but thankfully, none

as serious as that first time. Now that we know what to watch for, what triggers the seizures, what affects his medication, and what we need to do when they happen, we’ve managed to catch them before things get as extreme as when he was 18 months. We learned he'd been having seizures since he was born, but they were the small ones we weren't able to see. Just like right now. With medication keeping away the worst of the seizures, Anthony's most current EEG shows he still has 6 to 10 seizures per minute.

Because of this, concentrating on things is hard. It has made speaking a challenge. If you have the pleasure of meeting Anthony, you’ll find a compassionate young man who wants to be friends with everyone, but is hesitant because of his speech impediment.

One thing he will tell you is that he loves the power rangers, paw patrol, his animals, his xbox, the raiders, the color red, anything to do with police officers and police dogs, and most of all, above all else, he loves fishing. Fishing is his peace. His happy place. While he is fishing, things are quiet. There isn’t a lot of talking. It's just him and the fish. And he is good at catching those big pike.

I was encouraged to contact Make a Wish by another mom of a boy with cerebral palsy and epilepsy I met online. I filled out the application and then didn’t think much about it.

To say I was shocked and excited when they contacted me to let me know Anthony had been approved would be a gross understatement on my part. We made plans to meet with Allyson. All the while, I was nervous. Anthony had decided on his wish, but all the wishes I heard of were for trips or to meet people. I was scared that what he wanted wasn’t something he would be able to get.

I mean, how in the world would the Make a Wish team be able to get him his own fishing boat? And not just any fishing boat. A red one.

When Allyson and Aissa sent me the pictures of Anthony's new boat, I cried. They had done it. Somehow, these amazing angels had found some equally amazing people at Rally Motors and they had come together to get Anthony a red fishing boat.

Since getting his boat, we've found that Anthony has been more willing to talk to people he doesn’t usually talk to. All we have to do is bring up his boat. Oh, and he will be quick to make sure you know that that is HIS boat. If he catches his dad doing any work to it, he is outside in a flash to supervise and make sure he approves what's being done to HIS boat. Want to hear him laugh? Ask him how the first time he and his dad took out the boat Anthony untied the line so when his dad went to pull the boat in, the rope came and the boat floated off. You guessed it. Dad had to swim after the boat and was all wet for the ride home… funny story for Anthony, not so funny for dad.

Anthony will never drive a car, own a house…. Won't have the usual ‘future' other kids his age will have. But what he does have, is his red fishing boat, and we will eternally be thankful to everyone who was involved in making this wish become a reality for him. It may seem like such a small thing, but to us, to Anthony, it is everything.

So thank you again, Allyson and everyone at Make a Wish and to all of you who came today. Without people to support and donate time, funds and resources, there is no way these wishes would be possible.

Thank you.

Exhaustion

There are so many ways to feel tired.  Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually... being tired is never a great feeling.  When you're tired in all these departments, you're not tired anymore. You're exhausted.

Today, I woke up after two hours of sleep completely drained.  My body hurts, my head hurts.  My heart hurts.  I am without a doubt, exhausted.  I know a lot of people follow along with Anthony's story and while I always try to post positive, happy, and funny things, every once in a while, I'll pop a negative tidbit in there.  I mean, let's face it.  My kid has not just one, but three health conditions.  Life isn't always going to be roses.

About a month ago, Anthony started to have dizzy spells.  Some minor.  Some major enough he would fall and sometimes throw up.  We did some blood work, but his medication levels seemed to be where they were supposed to be.  The only thing out of the ordinary was a low white blood count. Now, before you panic, one of his medications can cause this.  It can also cause dizziness. Because his med levels were normal, his neurologist sent us to our family doctor (neuro is an hour and a half away in a different city) to get checked out.

One physical later, and Anthony was given a clean bill of health, minus the dizzy spells.  Our family doctor decided that the best way to rule out the carbamazapine was to lower the dose.  If he was suddenly showing two side effects of that medications he'd never experienced before, then maybe it was the culprit.  Of course, that meant that with a lower med level in his system, we'd have to watch for seizures.

I'm not going to lie.  I was hopeful.  I thought, well, if the medication is making him feel like this, then maybe he doesn't need to be on that high a dose.  Maybe the rest of the meds he was on were enough to keep the worst seizures away.

A week after we lowered the dose, the dizzy spells went away.  I thought, "Awesome!".

A week after that, and we started to notice small changes.  He had more trouble sleeping.  He was quick to get upset. 

It's been one more week since that second week and there's no denying it.  He's having more seizures.  Not the ones where he loses conciousness and stops breathing, but the ones he has right before he has those bad ones. He's not sleeping because of them which leaves him exhausted and moody, and just not in a good place.  He has to stop what he's doing multiple times a day because of them.  There's nothing like your teenage boy yelling "mom" in a panicked voice as he runs to the nearest bed so he can lay down in case he falls.

It's been an exhausting month.  And yes.  I know I'm using that word a lot.  I'm too exhausted to think of a different one.

Last night, we gave him his higher dose of medication.

This morning, I woke up crying.  Because I'm tired.  Because I've only gotten a couple hours of sleep per night the past month.  Because now, Anthony is going to feel gross while his system gets used to the higher level of medication. Because it's going to take at least a week for the higher levels to help bring down the number of seizures.  Because, after all of this, was it even the carbamazapine that caused the dizziness?  Did I just put my son through three weeks of mental and physical hell for nothing?  I don't know.  I have no fucking clue.

In two weeks, we have an appointment in Saskatoon with his neurologist.  Maybe the dizzy spells will be back by then.  Maybe they're gone forever.  Until then, we'll just try to rest and stay positive.

Anyway.  That's my Anthony update for now.  And don't worry.  I'm sure something cute or funny will happen soon and I'll be sure to let you all in on it.

Have a good week and stay safe. <3

Me: It's Been a While Since my Last Massive Panic Attack... Life: Hold my Beer.

Now, had this been five months ago, I'd have drank that beer and gone to buy another case. But it's not five months ago and I've been sober that long.  (Yay!) I'd be lying if I said it was easy to get here.  Truth be told, the first little while was pure hell.  I was crabby, cranky, rude... well, you get the point.  And while staying sober would be hell on the best of circumstances, I picked summer to do it. 

Yeah.  You know.  Bonfire, sit in the sun, have a beer camping season. Oh.  And then I traveled to Ontario and Quebec to visit all of my family and attend my brother's wedding. 

I spent the first three months avoiding social events and if I found myself at one, I sat away from everyone, usually in a different room. (fun times)

The first three months, I also had zero control over my anxiety.  Though my meds had managed to keep things in check while I was drinking, they did nothing while I detoxed and fought the cravings.

BUT! I pushed through that three month mark and things got easier. I got the anxiety under control and I started becoming the wife/mom/person I had been before I let the alcohol poison my life.  I never could have made it without my support system. (my husband, my family and friends, and my kids)  They're phenomenal.

So, most of you know the story with my oldest son, Anthony.  He got handed a shitty hand when he was born with cerebral palsy with autistic tendencies and epilepsy.  You've seen my twitter, instagram, and facebook posts of seizures, horrible nights, and behavior issues.

As I write this, I'm laying in bed with him and we're watching Rescue Bots. 

But life with Anthony has been life for the past 13, almost 14 years.  Holy shit, he's almost 14 years old!  Anyway, even though we have our stressful moments, it's our normal and we're used to it. (though, he does like to throw us a curve ball every once in a while. lol)

A little while ago, I made the mistake of thinking to myself that things were going great and I forgot to knock on wood.  ALWAYS remember to knock on wood.  Because if there's one thing life knows, it's that if it wants to mess with me, the best way to do it is through my kids.

Since then, I've had to watch my princess go for bloodwork and a renal and bladder ultrasound to see if they could find what is causing her to have multilple infections a year.  She was a trooper and thought it was cool she could see her insides on the tv and thankfully, no abnormalities were found. She's now going to be seeing a pediatrician, though that's not until January. I'm not sure what the next step he'll suggest will be, but like I said, January, so I'm trying to not think about it too much. (yeah right)

Two weeks ago, Emery came home from school, crying because his back hurt.  It turns out he was playing on a play structure at school and fell from five feet up onto his back.  We rubbed him down, let him soak in the tub, and when that seemed to help, we chalked it up to sore muscles from the fall.

A week later, ( a day after Ashtynn's ultrasound) he was still in pain and a trip to the doctor was made.  There, we were told there was a possibility he might have a fracture on one of his vertebrae and he was sent for xrays. 

A few days later, I saw my doctor's number on my phone.  Now, some people might think, oh well, but our doctor only phones us if something comes up in the tests that were taken.  Go for bloodwork, no phone call, you're fine.  Xrays, no phone call, all is good.

So, I took a deep breath and answered the phone, all the while wondering if I was getting news about Ashtynn or Emery. 

It was Emery.

It turns out he doesn't have a fracture on any of his vertebrae.  What he does have is Spina Bifida Occulta.  To my doctor's credit, he assumed I'd heard of Spina Bifida and rushed on to say that it is also called closed Spina Bifida and that it is the mildest form of the condition.  After easing my worry (I'm not going to lie, as soon as he said the name I imaged Emery's spinal chord ripping through his back... even though I knew it was something he'd obviously been born with and has lived with for eleven years with no issues whatsoever) he told me to bring Emery in and he'd explain more of what would happen next.

This morning, we went to the office. Some of Emery's vertebrae did not form properly while he was developing, therefore, he has a space which exposes his spinal chord. Though Emery hasn't had any symptoms (other than his back getting sore much more often then his siblings), there is a possibility that as he grows he could start having problems such as leg pain/ numbness, as well as other things.  He is now being referred to a pediatric specialist in Saskatoon where they will do more scans and decide what our game plan is.  Thankfully, because he doesn't have any symptoms, the chance of surgery is very small (pretty much non-existent) at this time. 

Now, I thought I was handling things well enough.  I did have an hour or so after the appointment where I felt a bit overwhelmed, but that passed and well, life.

It's funny how one tiny thing can set off a panic attack.  All it took for me was to look at my calendar and see I had to take Anthony to his Neurologist on Wednesday. 

Done.

I managed to get to my room and hide under the covers before my breathing went to shit and my chest contracted to the point I was sure I was having a heart attack.  I'm not sure how long it went on (it always feels like hours), but I finally remembered to do all my "it's a panic attack, it will pass" exercises.  I'm actually pretty happy with myself, I didn't even take an ativan (evil, tiny pills, they always put me to sleep). 

And even happier with the fact that I didn't even think about having a drink.

So, that's pretty much it.  I've had my meltdown and now it's back to business as usual because, well... this blog wouldn't be called Life and my Retreating Sanity if life was all rainbows and unicorns. :)

Adventures with Gueguette: chapter one

If there is one thing that is guaranteed when it comes to Alzheimer's it's that life is never boring.  Even if you've never had a loved one afflicted by it, or know someone who has a loved one affected, you've probably heard random stories of somebody who's had to deal with dementia. Most of them are sad, frustrating, and as time goes on, devastating.

Although Alzheimer's is a terrible thing, when you talk to people who have dealt or are currently dealing with someone afflicted by it, there is usually one thing they have in common and that is humor.

In my new mini series 'Adventures with Gueguette', I'll be posting about the good times, the funny times.  Those are the times we need to hang to.  These are the times we need to remember.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It started off as any normal Monday of the summer holidays.  The kids woke up, we had breakfast, and we amused ourselves doing summer things in the sun.  Mondays are also the day I usually pick up my grandma from the day center.  Mom drops her off in the morning then her and dad go off to do things.  It's their day off together.  I pick Gueguette up at three so that the two of them can stay out as long as they want/need to.  

I sent my mom a text at about eleven.

How was Gueguette this morning?

She was a bit confused. 

Okay.  I'll go stay with her at your house after I pick her up.

By one, I knew this wasn't going to be happening.  Though a confused Gueguette always does best sitting in her chair at home, my son with cerebral palsy, autism and epilepsy also has days where he does better in his house, in his room, away from everything.  Today is one of those days.  On days like this, I go with the lesser of two evils which is a very confused senior over an autistic meltdown by a teenager.

When I get to the day center, the group is in the main room singing songs.  I get into Gueguette's line of view and make eye contact.  Nothing. My grandma doesn't recognize me.  No big deal.  It's not the first time, it won't be the last, and to get upset solves nothing.  I leave the room, wait until they're done signing, then go back in.

She sees me, smiles, and waves me over so I can help her stand up.

"Did you like that song, Mireille?" (Our conversations are all in French, English is starting to confuse her) 

"I did! It was beautiful."  I take her arm and start walking toward the room that has her back of things.  "Did you have a good day?"

She frowns, trying to think of what she might have done in the past few hours.  "I don't know."

I smile and hug her.  "I'm sure you did.  We can read what the girls wrote in your book to see what you did later."

Satisfied with that, we gather her things and head to the jeep.  "Here, have a Halls.  They're good."

I take one put it in my pocket with the other three she's given me since I got there.

"Where's Danielle?" she inquires.

"She's gone fishing with dad."

"Oh, right.  Good for her."  She stops walking at a red van.  (I used to have a red van).

"My jeep's over here, Gueguette."

"Oh, right." 

I open the passenger door for her, remind her where the holy shit handle is so she can use it to help pull herself in, and a lot of laughing and pushing and pulling later, I do up her seatbelt.

"Oh, Mi.  You must be so tired of me."

I laugh.  "Of course not.  We always laugh when we're together, right?"

She nods, happy.  "When does your mom's plane land?"

It takes me a second to respond and she keeps talking.

"I don't know what I'm going to do when I get back."

I decide to let her keep going to get a better understanding of what she thinks reality is right now.

"I'm glad I came to visit though.  When do I go back to Ottawa again?"

Ding, ding, ding.  She thinks she still lives in Ottawa and that my mom lives there and that they're here to visit me.

"You're here for a while, Gueguette."

"Yeah?"

I nod.  "Yep.  You're stuck here with me."

She laughs.

We're quiet for a few minutes.

"Where's Danielle?"

"She's gone fishing with dad."

"Oh, right.  Good for her.  Here, have a Halls.  They're really good."

I add it to the I'm not sure how many other Halls in the change drawer in the jeep.  

She looks at the bridge as we go by it.  "We're not in Ottawa."

"No."

"How long am I here for?"

"For a while."

We pull up to the house and she moves to the back of the jeep.  "Mi, you need to open the back."

I smile.  "How come?"

"My luggage is in there."

I laugh and catch myself.  "It's okay, I'll bring it in later.  Come in the house.  You must be tired from your trip."

She nods and follows me in.  Exhausted from her flight, she sits on the couch and pets the dogs.  Pet therapy is no joke.  The instant she starts to pet them, you can see her relax.  The dogs decide they need to pee and go outside.  She frowns.

"I can't believe they lost my luggage! (throw in a few choice French words they don't teach you in French class)"

"It's okay, Gueguette.  I'll deal with it.  Emery, can you bring Gueguette a can of ice tea, please?"

My middle boy nods and smiles.  They know what's happening and all my kids are amazing with her when she gets like this.  I take my phone into my bedroom and make sure I speak loud enough so she can hear me.

"This is absoloutely unacceptable!  How is a person supposed to enjoy their holiday when they don't have any of the things they brought along!"  Pause.  "Well, look again!"  Pause.  "See?  That wasn't so hard, now was it!"  Pause.  "Thank you.  We'll be waiting for it tomorrow."

Gueguette looks up from coloring with Ashtynn.  "Did you get it sorted?"

I nod.  "Yep.  They found it and they're putting it on the bus first thing in the morning."

She smiles.  "You're so good to me, Mireille."

"Of course."  I give her a kiss.  "It's cause I love you."

More coloring happens, we eat supper.  It is established about 50 more times that mom is fishing with dad.  Sometimes, Gueguette thinks she visiting.  Other times, she knows she's a permanent resident of Saskatchewan.  It's half and half whether or not my parents live here or in Ontario.  The pile number of Halls in our little Halls bowl grows.

Mom and dad get back from fishing. Gueguette looks up, confused.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm picking you up, mom.  We're going home."

"To Ottawa?"

"No.  To our house here.  The blue house."

You can tell by the look in her eyes she's trying to process this information.  I help her stand up.

"It's okay, Gueguette.  Go with mom."

She mumbles all the way to the truck.

I wait a half hour and text mom.

How is she?

Good.  She got in the house, sat in her chair, and now she's doing her words.

Okay.  Talk to you tomorrow.  Love you.

Love you, too.  Thanks again.

No problem.  Hey, don't forget to go pick up her luggage tomorrow at the bus stop that doesn't exist anymore.

LOL! Will do.

A couple older stories about my crazy kids

Yesterday my sister and I were talking about our blogs.  She mentioned how she loved the name of mine and so I told her how I'd come up with it.  Years ago, I'd been working on a book about my kids.  In it were a ton of short stories about them and the crazy things they used to do do. The title was 'My Kids and my Retreating Sanity'.  But, I said, I haven't written many more short stories because my kids are older now and they don't do quite as many crazy things as they used to.  

She laughed at me.  "Mi, your kids definitely DO do crazy things still.  You're just desensitized to it all!"

Hahahaha!  Yeah.  So anyway, here are a couple of those stories I had written long ago. :D  

Silence is never a good thing...

“I swear, I locked the door.”  That’s the answer I got from Kyle while I sat at home and he got his trailers loaded in Regina.  He’d just finished asking me if I’d be up when he got home and I answered his question by saying, “Sure.  I’ll still be up wiping up all of the caulking the kids got into because someone forgot to lock up the furnace room when he was done in there.”

Hmmm.  Now that the kids are in bed and the caulking is all cleaned up, I thought I’d take a minute to tell you about it.  Maybe I should start at the beginning.

This morning I went to Saskatoon and dropped Kyle off at the NRT shop so he could go to work.  My mom was a dear and watched Ashtynn for me and picked Emery up at noon so I didn’t have to worry about things.  The ride down was nice, the ride back was quiet, and I had fun visiting with mom when I got back.  Anthony got home from school and we all had a snack while we watched the second Harry Potter movie; we’re having a Harry Potter marathon right now because the box set containing years 1-6 got here today and well, when you have that many movies in a series, the thing to do is watch from beginning to end. :)

So, my day was going splendidly when the kids decided they were tired of watching Harry and went downstairs to play in their room.

Kyle text me.  How’s your day going?

Good.

How are the kids.

Excellent.  They’re being so good today.

Right on.  I’ll be home tonight about midnight.

At this point, I realize… it’s pretty quiet down there.  I tip toe down the stairs and find all three of them with pieces of jip rock, markers, a little saw, a hammer, some unused light switches and two tubes of caulking.

Emery looks at me, proud as can be.  “Look, mommy, we’re fixing!”

Ashtynn grins.  “Fixing!”

Anthony looks up midswing with the hammer.  “Fix!”

“I’m sure you are, but this is daddy’s stuff and you’re not allowed to play with it.”  I pick up the caulking, grab the hammer and little saw, and put everything back into the furnace room and lock the door.  We head back upstairs to have a snack and watch some more Harry Potter.  I look at my phone.

Do you think you’ll be up when I get home?

… Well, you know the rest of the story.  Hahaha!

Owy is never a good word

“Owy, owy, owy, ooooowwwwww!”

This is never a good sound when you’re making supper and the scream is coming from another room.  If you’re me and it’s coming from your children, you calmly tell yourself that supper is now postponed and a trip to the hospital is in order.

I’m serious.  My kids are tough… like, superhero tough.  Like, all three are running full speed in the house and manage to run into a wall, get up and do it again kind of tough.  The two year old can be lying of the ground and the seven year old will jump on her and she’ll look at him and scream… not in pain… in anger… because he made her drop her pony.  That kind of tough.  Or the five year old will jump off of his bed, trip, and smash his face into the floor, then show his siblings how to do it just like he did.

When one of my kids is screaming owy at the top of his lungs, I know it’s not going to be a good sight.  Owy means skin is missing, blood is flowing, or body parts are no longer bent in the proper direction. (thankfully, the latter has only happened once and it was a toe.  Toes are a minor body part, so I’m not even sure if it bears mentioning).

So tonight when I heard that dreadful word, I took a deep breath, and headed into my bedroom which was where the horrible sound was coming from.  This usually means a wrestling match gone wrong. My kids have a great time trying to kill each other.  It happens every day and I’ve given up on trying to stop them.  I’d never clean, I’d never eat, hell, I’d never be able to have a shit if I was trying to keep it from happening.  Survival of the fittest is the law in my house and so far, the three of them seem pretty well matched.

I heard my daughter jump off the bed and scramble to her bedroom.  I heard another thump as one of the boys jumped to the ground.  This left the five year old screaming at the top of his lungs, so I knew who was the object of today’s assassination attempt.

My first instinct when I walked into the room was to start yelling.  I opened my mouth, took a deep breath, and stopped.  I was speechless.  And then I started to laugh, because, well, it was funny as hell (though apparently not to Emery who had his head wedged between the mattress and the box-spring of my bed).  That’s right.  Today’s attempted murder was by means of head squishing.  Somehow, this was fun (I never did get a straight answer as to how or why Emery thought it was a good idea to let his siblings put his head between the mattresses) .  Stick brother’s head in mattresses and jump.  Sure, I can see the logic in that.

After freeing my son and making sure that his skull was still intact, we had a small group discussion as to why it is a bad idea to squish your brother’s head between two objects of any kind.  The three of them ran downstairs (to plan their next assassination, I’m sure), and I went back to making supper, shaking my head while thinking to myself that today was a good day. No bent body parts, no missing skin, hell, not even a single drop of blood to wipe off the floor.

So, let me rephrase that.  Today was not good.  It was fantastic. :)

Hahahaha!  Stay safe, everyone!

The Day I Thought I'd Have to do this Alone

I'm going to start this blog off with a post I wrote a few years ago.  As a trucker's wife, one of the worries you have is that phone call that lets you know there's been an accident. I love my husband. We are partners. We keep each other grounded.  The thought of living my life without him sends me into panic attacks.  I love that man.

The day I wrote about here, it was the most horrifying, most heartbreaking day of my life.  Others who have almost lost their love will relate.

As of the day I publish this first post, I've been married to my husband for fourteen years and together with him for sixteen.

As of 5 minutes ago, (when he text me) he's alive and well.  So don't go having panic attacks reading this. lol

There Are No Words

'I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.

"We just ain't a-gonna pay no toll."

So we crashed the gate doing ninety-eight

I says "Let them truckers roll, 10-4."

I smile as my father-in-law's ring tone rings out of my cell.  "Allo?"

"Hey.  Are you home?"

I pull out the coffee pot out.  "Yep.  You coming for coffee?"

"Nope. I'll be there in a minute."

I reach for the tea kettle instead and true to his word, Ken is walking through my front door a minute later.  He looks around the living room.

"Where are the kids?"

I gesture to the back yard.

"Mimi, I'm going to Saskatoon.  Kyle's been in an accident."

I look at him blankly while this registers and I silently pray for the 'sike' I know isn't coming.  "What?"

"Kyle's been in a bad accident."

"On the highway?"  My heart drops and my chest tightens.

"No.  In the NRT yard.  I couldn't get a whole lot of details, but it sounds like he got hit by a truck."

Visions of Kyle being hit by a semi flash through my head.

There are no words to describe how I feel. Shocked, devastated, scared, overwhelmed.  These words will never accurately describe the feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I fight back the tears so I won't scare the kids and grab my cell to let my dad know the tiny bit of information I have.

"Kids, come on!" I call out the window.  "You guys are going to go play at Grandmere and Grandpere's!"

The kids whoop and holler and come running into the house.  I remember the diaper bag and Anthony's seizure medication and that's it.  As a last second thought, I call the dog to come along... I'm not sure why.

My mom and dad are waiting for us on the front lawn.  Dad pulls me into a hug.

"Are you going alone? Do you want me to come along?"

"Ken...." I start to break down and take a few deep breaths to compose myself before the kids can see.  "I'm jumping in with Ken."

By then my father-in-law has pulled up behind me.  I hand my mom the diaper bag.

"I... I think there's diapers in it.  Anthony's pills are in there."

"Where are you going, mommy?"

I contemplate telling the kids their dad got run over by a truck and I come up blank on how to do it.

My mom hugs me.  "Mommy and Papa have to do some running around."  To me she says, "We'll wait till we know more, and we'll let them know then.  Go.  We'll worry about the kids."

I try to smile then run to Ken's truck, detour to my van, let the dog out, then head back to the truck.

He fills me in on the news update he's gotten. (This is Kyle's rule, by the way.  If anything happens to him, everyone is suppose to get a hold of his dad first, who is then in charge of telling me. I think it's supposed to make the bad news seem.... less bad? I don't know.)  Knowing I'm about to lose it, I pick up my phone and call Kyle's best friend since he was, well, born; his cousin Sheldon.

"Hey, Mimi, how's it going?"

"I've been better.  I'm on my way to Saskatoon.  Kyle was in an accident.  I'm not sure exactly, but it sounds like he was working under his trailer and when he slid out from under the trailer, a truck didn't see him and ran over him."

We're both quiet for a minute.

"I'm off till tomorrow," he says.  "If you need anything..."

"I'll let you know.  Thanks.  As soon as I know more, I'll let you know."

And as we leave Prince Albert to go to Saskatoon, all I can think of is that at this moment, my husband is in an ambulance and on his way to the hospital.

A half hour into our hour and a half ride (though it didn't take that long at the speed my father-in-law was driving) and no news later, I'm getting close to breaking down once again.  Ken is either feeling the same way, or can see I need something to do.

"Do you have dispatch on your phone?" he asks. (He drives for NRT, too)

"No."

"Grab my phone and phone the bulk side."

I do as he says and am glad when Dale picks up the phone.  I love his voice.  It's deep and calm, and right now, it's just what I need.

"Hey, Dale, it's Mimi. Can you tell me what the hell happened?"

"We're not sure.  All we know for sure is that somehow the tire truck pinned him to his trailer.  We don't know why the kid driving didn't see him or the semi there, or anything like that, but we should be able to tell more once we look at the video more closely.  What I can tell you is he was conscious when the ambulance took him away."

Tears fill my eyes because that right there is great news.  One, he didn't get run over by a semi, he was pinned by a one ton. Yes, I realize that it's still not good news, but if I had to pick between a semi and a one ton to run over or hit me, I'd pick the one ton.  And two, he's conscious."

"Do you know what part of him got pinned?"

"From what he told the cops and paramedics, its sounds like from the top of his chest to his knees."

I must make a noise because he rushes on.  "But, Mimi, a few guys looked at the tape and say he was bent over when the truck rolled towards him.  He stood up a fraction of a second before it pinned him."

The realization of that statement hits me and new tears fill my eyes. Had he not stood when he had, it wouldn't have been my father-in-law bringing me the news of my husband's accident.  I take a deep breath and swallow hard a few times.

"Ok.  Thanks Dale.  I should be at the hospital in about an hour.  I'll let you know how he is when I find out."

"K.  Let him know we're all thinking about him."

I relay this information to Ken.

"Well," he says, "it's better than being run over by a semi."

We look at each other and start to laugh, because, well, it's better than crying.

We finally get to the Royal University Hospital and head to emergency where we are met by another of Kyle's cousins who lives in Saskatoon and came to be with him so he wouldn't be alone.  Billy gives me a hug.

"They won't tell me much cause I'm just his cousin, but he's getting a CT scan and x-rays done right now.  I haven't seen him yet."

"Mimi!"

I turn and get a hug from Wendy, one of the secretaries at NRT.

"They're not telling me much either," she says, "even though when they asked who I was, Kyle told them I was his wife until his real wife got here."

I can't help but laugh.  Leave it to Kyle to get pinned between two trucks and still joke around.

"What I can tell you is what I saw before they wheeled him away for his scans.  He's having trouble breathing, so maybe some broken ribs, his right leg might be broken, and his left arm, but he's concious and he's joking."

A few minutes later, we watched as he gets wheeled by on his way to the room he's staying in.  He's covered in blankets, he's wearing a neck brace, there are IV's and lines everywhere, and when the bed rolls over a small bump in the floor, I want to cry at the pain I can see he's in.  I think there he is; the man I love, who I've been with for eleven years, been married to one month shy of eight.  We've been through hell and back together, and he's lying there and there's nothing I can do for him.  I kick my praying into high gear.  Please, dear God, I can't do this without him.  You can't take him away from me.

A couple of hours later, Billy and Wendy have gone home and we've promised to phone should we need anything.  Kyle's mom and sister are also at the hospital and we are still waiting for news.  Karen, my sister-in-law, and Ken head to the NRT yard to go get his things from the truck.  Marlene and I wait and try to keep Kyle as comfortable as possible while the nurses try to keep up with the overflow of patients.

Finally, two doctors walk into the room and look at my husband in amazement.  The one holding the chart looks at me.

"You're his wife?"

I nod and he looks at his chart again.

"I'm sorry we took so long," he says, "but we were trying to find something wrong with him."

Everyone is quiet for a second and I finally find my voice.

"What?"

"Well, we did the CT scan and xrays, and there's nothing.  Well, nothing major.  But nothing like what we would usually see with this type of accident."  He takes the neck brace off of Kyle and tilts the bed up so he can see.  "You must be made of steel, Kyle."

Kyle catches his breath after the pain just sitting up has caused.  He smirks.  "Milk does the body good."

I'm still in shock, I think.

"So, here's what we found.  You have torn ligaments in your knee, a small break in your elbow, and your ribs are bruised, but not cracked."  He shakes his head.  "Not one cracked rib.  You'll be extremely sore for a while, the knee will take a long time to heal, but other than that..." He grins.

"So... he's fine?"  I'm still sure I haven't heard right.

"He's fine.  The man got pinned between two trucks and he's fine."

Now, when I prayed to God not to take my sweet away from me, I'd been willing to deal with paralyzed, missing limbs, anything, but this... this is a miracle.

"I'll go get you a brace and some crutches, and I'll be back."

"So he gets to go home?"

The doctor still looks just as shock as I feel.  "You can take him home."

"Mi, can I bug you one more time?"

I smile.  "That's what I'm here for."

"Can I get a glass of water, please?"

I take Kyle his water and kiss him softly, then go back to the kitchen and start to cry.  Tears of relief, tears of joy; tears of thanks.  My sweet is home and well.  He is in a lot of pain, he can barely move, and has to go see a surgeon about his knee on Tuesday, but he's here.

And for the millionth time today, I thank God for answering my prayers and throwing in his own miraculous twist in there for good measure.

We still aren't sure what happened exactly, but I'm sure they'll figure it out with the investigation going on. Mostly, Kyle just remembers standing and getting pinned then pushing the truck off enough to get out.  He then walked a short distance before declaring that he didn't feel good, and fell to the ground.  Right now, I can honestly say I don't care.  I'm just happy he's home. But for the sake of avoiding accidents like this again, I hope they find out what went wrong.

To all of you who prayed for us that night and kept us in your thoughts, thank you.  I will never be able to say it enough.