Soooo Sad

Well . . . my partner of 15 years is going to have to be put to sleep tomorrow . . . I feel my throat closing as I type. It is so hard to lose an animal. I know, I know, people too, but the reality of it is just closing in.

She was the only thing that I wanted from my first marriage - she took a HUGE dump in my ex's truck on the way home from the animal shelter . . . telling! We moved several places together - I am so sad, but I know it's for the greater good - it is CRUEL to see an animal suffer.

I'll post a pix if I can find a digital one someplace - her name is Misty.

YIKES!!! Traction???

Here is the crazy splint that I was given to keep my hand immobile for SIX weeks . . . my hand is in a flexed position so that the scar tissue from the tendon repair doesn't touch/adhere to the scar tissue from the healing skin. I'm now in hand therapy 2x per week, and so far things are going well. I think when this time frame is over, I will be in a different splint with some opportunities for guarded active movement for the next six weeks. WHEW - all for a pinky!

It's a bit tough, not being able to provide all the care for my beautiful girls, (I literally can't even load/unload my 10-month old in her carseat, or even get the carseat into the van). I haven't bathed them in over a month!!! My honey is amazing and is doing so much . . . it is hard having him do most of the work arond the house.

I'm finding that I have been getting a bit depressed - WHICH ISN'T ME AT ALL. I really do appreciate all the positive thoughts and calls, it is nice to stay connected.

On a positive note, I have mastered a few skills with my left hand . . . brushing my teeth, putting on a bra, and taking care of the personals - SMILE!

EWWWWW!

Alright, so this is what I looked like after the stitches were removed . . . ewwwww!

Goin' veggie

Welp . . . it happened . . . I might be goin' veggie, here's the story . . .

Damn meat!

We went to the Costco and bought a huge slab 'o tri-tip steaks - like 10 in a pack! The event we were planning (daughter's 3rd birthday with her biological family invited) never took place, so after a few days in the fridge, the slab o' meat got placed in the freezer. (I hate to waste stuff, especially food). Usually, Tim and I separate the huge portions and we NEVER PUT COSTCO MEAT IN THE FREEZER WITHOUT SEPARATING IT INTO SMALLER PORTIONS! What the heck was I thinking?

Damn meat!

Anyway, I decided to serve grilled/marinated steak, artichokes, and potatoes for dinner on Tuesday. It was going to be delicious . . . if anybody doesn't already know, I LOVE to cook/bake, you name it - I think it's the Italian in me. So, I took the gargantuan meat out of the freezer, ran it under cool water, got out the cutting board, placed the steaks atop, and rummaged around for a knife. I found the trusted butter knife and gently placed it between two of the steaks. In the meantime, my oldest daughter (3 years old) was acting like a monkey with her hand on the counter frantically searching for a humungous chocolate See's candy egg . . . so, as I put my whole body weight behind the butter knife (which is gradually making it's way between the steaks), Elizabeth finds the chocolate egg, I look over my shoulder, the meat slips and then . . . CRUNCH! The knife pierces my hand!!!

Damn meat!

The next 10 minutes were a bit frantic as I clammor for the phone, grab a towel, apply pressure, call for help, keep my daughter calm, unlock the front door (in case I pass out), keep me calm, bleed profusely - saturating another towel - WHEW!!!

Damn meat!

The end result . . . a lacerated ring finger and a seriously injured pinky finger on my dominant hand! I severed two flexor tendons and the nerve on one side of my pinky. So here I sit, with one hand in the air, sewn up fingers and a splint. Surgery is scheduled for Monday. The hand surgeon told us that there is spot in the hand that they professionally term "the dead zone" - of course, this is where I have injured myself. The term was made because awhile ago, the doctors didn't even do the tendon repair surgery because the results were never favorable. He told us that the surgical procedure would fix the tendon and reattach the nerve - it is no telling whether or not it would be successful. Some perfect surgeries yield positive results, some perfect surgeries yield negative results. Because of the site, the small size of the anatomical structures, (and other factors), that the sutures could easily damage - AND - there is NO ROOM FOR SCAR TISSUE. Sheesh!

Damn meat!

In the meantime, I have to try not to flex my right fingers in an attempt not to have the severed tendons disappear too deeply into my hand. The recovery will be 6 weeks of an immobilized right hand - with passive range of motion hand therapy. The next 6 weeks will be highly guarded.

Damn meat!

I had my mother-in-law come over and grill the meat in question and we ate that mother fucker!!!!! IT WAS DELICIOUS!!!

Ok, ok, ok, so I'm not veggie yet, but I certainly can't cut my own meat anymore!!!

Blueberry Pancakes

I sit and I think . . .

I dream and I dance . . .

I change diapers and I write reports . . .

An educated woman who stays at home . . .


The most important job I have - to raise a well-balanced creature, who learns more and more with every situation she is exposed to. A tiny person who looks to me as an example to aspire to - the most difficult job I have.

Sure, I have taught children who eat from tubes going directly to their stomachs to eat orally. I have observed and analyzed the behavior of the "out-of-touch" child, one with autism, another with prenatal drug exposure. I have been the sounding board for parents who were not expecting the children that they have - beautiful babies in damaged packaging. Talking with their hands, their tiny little mouths, a brain that works - a body that doesn't follow the commands given . . . "if I could just get my hand to grasp the block and bring it to my mouth to feel, taste, bite." Synapses gone awry, rewiring, time-staking. Waiting.

I make pancakes. Talk about the batter and the blueberries. The blueness. The berriness. The way the berries crunch a bit when you bite them. The sweet smell - the warm feeling as you breathe in. The oh-so-hot griddle. The brownness signifying they are almost ready.

Watching her feed herself, feeling ever so grateful for the undamaged package she comes in. Yes, this is the most important job I have.

No time to feel unappreciated. No time to spend dreaming about places I'd have liked to visit. No time to feel as if I'm not putting my education to good use - six years of training, and many other opportunities to gain experience. The time is now . . . do what I have with this moment. It all goes too quickly, the sands go out as quickly as the water does. Day turns to night turns to day again, other opportunities to share, to have tea parties, to smell every flower along the path chosen, to smell the sweet blueberry breath of my sleeping babe. This is the moment.