The Good in the Bad

By now, half the world probably knows I ended up in the ER late on Wednesday night with a gallbladder attack, was admitted and then had my gallbladder removed at 7 p.m. on Friday night while most people were either a) at dinner and a movie or b) watching the Haiti telethon.

As with every trip to the hospital there are ups and down. And I could regale you with some complete horrors of my stay, but since I'm feeling much more positive after getting a night of rest and after getting discharged, I'm only going to emphasize the positive.

Nurses make or break your hospital stay. That's just how it is. If you end up in the emergency room at Carle, think good thoughts that you get Wendy as your nurse. She's awesome. She's funny, chatty, extraordinarily responsive, and she doesn't mess around when it comes to giving you pain relief.

If you end up on the 4th floor of the North Tower, the gods will have smiled down on you if you get Amy, Erica or Courtney as your RNs. They're attentive, thorough and also put a key emphasis on responsiveness, pain management and humanity. You'll also be cheered by Wayne's warm greeting to take your vitals at 6 a.m.

If you're in the hospital, you probably have a life at home that's not being attended to and a spouse who is flipping out a bit because his wife, who manages everything at home, isn't around. Then you're both grateful for friends like Quigs, KTDID, Libbygirl, Special K, Dri and Ian of the North and my favorite family members, who not only call and check up on you frequently, they take your child (our most precious cargo) for a few hours, do your laundry, make meals, send flowers and show up for a visit. And then there's the legion of awesome folks who make the offer to help and know that they're on call if we need them.

The support network we've made in Champaign helped us a lot this week. I thank all of you for your good thoughts and love. You're loved right back.

I'm slow and steady right now at home. Walking feels okay, but stairs are difficult. I get tired easily. Mostly, I'm glad not to have someone waking me every hour to give me shots in my belly or poke me to take blood. I'm also thankful to be able to eat food. I spent 53 hours without any kind of food or water out of the 63 hours I was at the hospital. I'm getting my pineapple fix tonight. My high liver enzymes were coming down within 8 hours of having the gallbladder removed, but I have to go back to the lab to get a CBC on Monday to make sure they're back to a normal level. I also have a follow up with my surgeon, Dr. Oliphant, in a week.

Old Friends and a Movie

I went to see It's Complicated the other night with a couple of friends. It's a film by Nancy Meyers about a divorced couple (he's remarried; she's not), who end up having an affair so they can both resolve loose ends in their relationship (they had been married divorced for 10 years, married for 20). It was a comedy, kind of. And although I hate that Nancy Meyer's characters are always over the top, unrealistic wealthy, she does hit on life themes that transcend the socio-economic barrier.

The part that hit me the most was at the end when the three grown kids find out about the affair. Two of them were 12, 13 when the divorce happened. And the kids talk about how they really don't have any memories of when their parents were married. They remember the stories that were told and the pictures that were taken, but they can't remember the "original family" sitting down to dinner or getting tucked in. They remember living with Mom, and that was okay, because she was good.

In my child psych book last semester, they talked a bit about divorce during early adolescence, and how difficult it is and some of the coping mechanisms that kids can use to deal with the pain. It turns out that when my parents separated when I was 12, I implemented a few of those coping mechanisms. One of the mechanisms was being around other families that weren't separated and had a positive mother/father relationship (and those of us who have parents who chose to stay together that probably shouldn't have know that this is a hard role model to find).

My role model was right across the street, and I spent a fair amount of time at their house between the ages of 12 and 16. I babysat their two boys who were 3 and 5 years younger than me. I ate dinner at their house. I spent the night having sleep overs. I dog sat when they went on vacation. We played HORSE at the basketball hoop. We road bikes. My neighbor called me and invited me places, including trips to some random drive-in ice cream and burger place they used to frequent. It felt like I had two little brothers, and Lorane and Jim rocked at listening, checking in with me and making me feel like I wasn't alone during a time when I felt both of my parents had kind of checked out. Mostly, they made me feel welcome into their home at any time. It was an important experience for me.

Yesterday, I learned that Jim passed away on Sunday at age 61. I'm not ready for my friends' parents to start dying. We lost enough friends' parents when I was in high school and college -- abnormally early. But I still think 60 is way too young.

Making a Change

I've lost quite a bit of weight since February. It's enough that people notice. It's enough that I freak out every time I put on my pants and find them around my ankles. And most people think that when fat people get thin, it's about finally not being lazy. Because in our society Fat=Lazy. It's a terrible stereotype. 

I didn't suddenly not get lazy. I mean really, that's what facebook time is, right? I've just changed my daily priorities a lot in the last six months. And some of those changes I've loved and others I've hated. But my reason for doing so, I hold very close to my heart. I have this little boy who is not unlike his mother. He's fiercely independent, wildly active and he loves sports. I decided that if I wanted to keep having quality time with him and to keep up -- the pounds were going to have to go. 

I've watched other people have serious health issues: Diabetes, heart disease, etc., and with each new diagnosis the doctor tells them to eat less, exercise more. That advise is obviously ineffective in America. And although it may be true, unlearning eating habits after 30, 50, 70 or more years is damn difficult. So they keep eating, keep working a zillion hours in a day, keep eating large portions, keep turning to cake when life gets rough, and for a lot of people they are living the lives they want, so why change? 

I have never lived my life for anyone else. I've always made my own choices and tried to be respectful of those that share their lives with me, but I didn't make them. I made X-man. He didn't ask to be here. And he needs me. I'm his mother, and that's a huge connection. I see other parents who have lost that over the years, and I note what happened and I wonder if it will happen with my own child as he grows. 

I want to live my life with my child for as long as I can, in as good of health as I can. I do this for me because I love me -- and because I am completely in love with my little family. They need me.

As MacTroll says, "Without you -- we're screwed."

So, yeah, I rearranged some of my priorities... :-)

A Shout Out to MacTroll

Two months ago, MacTroll (above playing at the Orpheum with X-man) came off of a 5-month long road show where he traveled to 3-4 cities each week for 3 weeks out of the month. On the 4th week sometimes he was home and sometimes he had to travel to other places to do actual work and not marketing work.

It was a really, really long road show for him and for us. And when he came back, there was nothing that MacTroll could do right because I was at my limit between school and X-man's jump into the bipolar 3-year-old mania stage and regular life stuff. A few weeks ago, he got the word that he was going to get to hire a few more people to his team. Anyone who knows Mactroll knows how much he travels, so the first question is always, "How bad is it really?"

When MacTroll was hired it was supposed to be a 10-day travel average. He realized that doing any more was pushing our family to the brink of badness. And for the last two months, he's kept it to 10 days a month. He travels for a week and is home for a week. And can I say I've noticed a huge difference. We communicate rather than just running around sending e-mails or IMs at each other to check in. We talk. We go to lunch. We have friends over for dinner. He helped me mulch the gardens. He offered to dethatch the yard. He's watering plants and grilling dinners and doing his own laundry.

And he never, ever complains about me having friends and a life and needing time out of the house. He fixes dinner for himself and X-man since I'm on my medically supervised diet. And he's understanding that when I go to maintenance -- there are certain foods that will be banned from the house. He's a good guy, my spouse. We love him very much. And I notice that since he's around more for longer stretches of time, X-man doesn't ask where he is any more. He knows that Dad is at work (he thinks he actually flies the planes) and that he'll be home as soon as he can to make him pancakes and go for walks and play catch. 

So a big thank you to MacTroll for everything he's doing. It's nice to know that it's the travel that makes us all grumpy and not actually each other.

Love and Hate

Things I LOVE:

1. When X-man falls asleep holding my hand to his chest or his face.

2. Coming home to a house I didn't have to clean.

3. When my husband picks up after himself and follows through on a project like say, his laundry.

4. When X-man tells me he loves me without me saying it first.

5. When I get a call from an old friend who is excited to talk to me no matter how long I've been out of the loop.

6. The 2 hours I get alone a day to either do homework or work on housework without someone pulling at me.

7. When I get to walk with my dog in the morning. 

8. When all my cats are happy and healthy.

9. When X-man is excited to go see his friends.

10. That my son's teachers are amazing, and I love how much he loves them and vice versa. It's a huge peace of mind to know that while I'm at school they both have a respectful, responsive and reciprocal relationship going on.

11. Warm potatoes on a cold day.

12. My car.

13. That tomorrow is Friday.

14. That some guy checked me out today while we were both waiting to turn left at the red light going out of Parkland. 

15. That I really enjoy my classes and think I'm going to love working full-time again in a couple years.

Things I Hate:

1. That there is no way to get onto I-74 at Mattis.

2. That one of my cats has a UTI and is peeing in my basement (two have been tested so far this week). 

3. That my husband is teaching our son not to pick up after himself. 

4. That it is impossible for me to walk out of Target without blowing over $100 on stuff that we actually need (cat litter, laundry detergent, etc.)

5. That no one seems to say thank you any more.

6. That I have to clean my house for Saturday by myself.

7. That for some reason there aren't any cool black couches that aren't gigantic. Seriously. I just want something that three people could sit on, on an easy clean fabric for less than $1500.

8. That my son has learned to tune me out.

9. That my husband has chosen to tune me out.

10. That I'm trying to find something to find comfort in besides food, and I keep coming up empty (other than the idea of just getting in the car and driving away).

11. That Busey is changing over their banking system which somehow requires me to do something... why can't they just make it automatic without me having to register with numbers I don't remember and have to look up.

12. That I've set my clocks like 12 times this week due to time changes and power outtages.

13. That as often as I recycle things, throw things out, give things away and donate things, I still have too much stuff in my house to have it look orderly.

14. That X-man is still in his dump everything out on the floor stage.

15. That the weather got cold again. I really got pretty high off the sunshine. I could use that again.

The Courage Campaign

My friend Mary Kay posted this on Facebook. I thought I'd share.