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

Weird Dreams: episode four

Today's weird dream is brought to you by a granola bar eaten at three in the morning...

I'm at a restaurant with my family. Me, Kyle, the kids, some of our cousins and their kids.  Everyone is eating and talking. I smile.  I love being with my family.  In a dark corner, I notice a man staring at us.  I can't tell what he looks like because he's got a bunny hug on and a baseball hat.  Everything he's wearing is black.  He takes a sip of coffee and his eyes meet mine.  Somehow, I know I'm supposed to go to him.  

I get up, telling Kyle the man is here and I'll be right back.  He tells me to be careful.  No one can see what's happening.  I can tell he's watching me as I get up and head to the bathroom.  A few minutes later, I hear the door open and someone walks in.  

"I'm in here."

The man's footsteps enter the stall next to mine.  "You're sure your family is ready for this?"

I nod even though he can't see me.  "We are."

He hands me a small package from under the divider.  "You have five hours."

I hear him leave and take my time exiting the bathroom with the cell phone sized package tucked in my back pocket.

Kyle exhales the breath he's been holding as I sit back down beside him.  Everyone is looking at me.

"We have five hours."  I pull the package out, taking the elastic off that's holding instructions against it. 

Welcome
The rules are simple.
1. take the packages to HIM by any means necessary
2. at least two of your team members must be at the final point

The restaurant doors burst open and a group of military guys come running up to us.

"They're coming! We have to go now! Brumby and Stinker will take the kids to a secure location!"  

Everyone gives the kids a quick hug.  

Emery kisses me on the cheek.  "You can do this, mom."

I take a deep breath and watch as the kids grin and run to the tank they get to ride in.  "Let's do it."

We run and get on our bicycles, pedaling down a back alley as fast as we can.  I feel the package slipping out of my pocket and decided to hang it around my neck by the chord it's attached to.  We make it to a tall skyscraper made completely of  windows.

Cheryl, Courtney, and Dwayne Johnson watch as Kyle and I run into the building.

"We'll meet you in the field!" yells Cheryl before pedaling away, the three of them accompanied by three guards.

"Where is it?"  Kyle stops me from getting on the elevator.

"Tenth floor."  

"They'll expect the elevator."

"Yeah."  I head to the stairway and we start to head up.

"Here! We can travel through the vents.  Bucky, give us a boost."

Kyle follows me in and passes me the gun Bucky has given him before pulling the other man up to join us.

The trip through the vents is exhausting and long.  Maybe this was a bad idea.  Maybe we won't have enough time.  In my mind, I've been counting the turns and floors.

"Here.  This is where we need to get out."

We drop into an office and quickly hide behind a large desk.  

A man with green scales for skin pauses and peeks in.

"They beat us here."  Bucky makes sure his safety is off and I do the same.  

Kyle attaches the silencer to his weapon.  "You know what sucks? They blend in.  We don't."

"I have to get to the back office."  I point in the direction I need to go.  The lights go out and I slip on my night vision goggles.  "Thanks god for Sparky."

Kyle grins.  "Let's go."

We manage to slip past a couple of office workers without being detected.  Bucky swings open the back office door .  His gun goes off twice and two bodies drop to the ground.  I kick open a closet door and shoot the manager who was hiding in it.

"It's in here."  I grab the box with the symbol on it that matches the package around my neck.

"Everybody freeze!"  

I see Bucky swing his gun around to take down the threat, but not quickly enough.  The building guard's gun goes off and Bucky falls to the ground.  Kyle grabs a chair and smashes the window open.

"Go, Mi!"  He shoots one guard and drops as he gets hit in the leg.  With a grunt, he throws himself at the men in the doorway.

"Kyle!"

"Go! Finish this!"  He takes another round in the chest and the last thing I see as I launch myself out of the tenth story window is his body falling to the ground.

I pull my parachute chord, knowing it's not going to do much to slow me down at this height.

"Hang on!"  Sparky groans as he attempts to catch me and I smash him into the asphalt.  "Bucky and Kyle?"

I shake my head and swallow hard.  "Gone."

"Come on."  He squeezes my arm.  "We have to keep going."  He stuffs the box in the big pocket on his pant leg and we take off running.

"We have to get to the field."  I duck into a back alley to get out of view.  Sparky peeks around the corner to make sure we aren't being followed.

"Let's go."  He leads to way until we're laying behind some bushes at the edge of the field.

"Shit."  Cheryl, Courtney, and Dwayne are tied to posts, surrounded by twenty plus enemy soldiers.  All I can think about is shooting each and everyone of them in their scaly green faces.

"Where do we find the package?"

I look through my scope.  "There.  They have it sitting by our team."

"Bastards.  Do they really think we're just going to stroll in there?"

We glance at each other and grin.  Making sure all of our weapons are loaded and ready, we stand and start shooting.

Chaos ensues as the enemy scrambles to recoup from our surprise.  Cheryl manages to get loose and tackles a panicked guard, stealing his weapon and shooting him before joining in the massacre.  Sparky reaches the package and stuffs it into his other leg pocket.  He quickly cuts down Courtney and Dwayne and gives them weapons.  

"Come on!"  I lead the way into the woods, glancing at my watch.  "We have an hour!"

I try not to feel excited.  We have all three packages.  Now, we just have to get it to HIM. 

Cheryl takes a shot to side and falls.  Dwayne covers her and takes three to the back.  He pushes his weapon toward Courtney.  "Go."

Courtney, Sparky, and I dash through the woods breaking out into the open of a parking lot.  We can hear the others behind us.  A quick scan confirms we aren't going to be ambushed and we go crashing through the front doors.

HE is waiting for us, his white suit pristine as HE sits behind a table.  HE stands.  

Sparky and I stumble forward, out of breath, holding out the packages for HIM. HE takes them, opens them, and scrutinizes them.  HIS eyes meet mine and he grins.

"Congratulations.  You've done it."

Gordon Ramsay takes the secret ingredients for the best hot chocolate on earth and heads off into the kitchen to make us some.

The kids come running up to us, excited to taste the treat.

We all turn as the lizard men some strolling into restaurant.  

Sheldon and the others pull off their lizard masks.  "Man, these things are bloody hot."

Everyone laughs and I hand him a glass of water.  Kyle gives me a hug, still wiping the paint from the paint balls off of his sleeve.

"I can't believe you jumped out of that building!"  Bucky grins with a shake of his head.

I burst out laughing, remembering it.  "Me neither!"

"That was kickass!"

We all sit as Gordon comes back with the hot chocolate and the only sound is thirsty slurps.  

"What are you going to make next time?"

He shrugs.  "It's a surprise."

"Can you make a cake?" asks Ashtynn.

Gordon shrugs.  "Is that what all of  you want?"

All the kids nod enthusiastically.  

Sparky stretches his arms over his head.  "I'm sorta glad it's the kids' turn next weekend.  I'm wrecked."

The adults all agree and the teams are picked for the following weekend fun of paintaball mob boss chef adventures.

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. :)

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.