Life in the States

The trip back to the States has been eventful to say the least. After spending part of one day with my mother, she went in for surgery, a 10.5 hour surgery. That 17 hours we spent at the hospital were definitely some of the longest of my life. When they called for a Code Blue that night on the recovery room floor where we were sitting waiting to see Mom after her surgery had ended, I refused to even contemplate that it would be her. Thankfully for us, it wasn’t, but unfortunately for another family it was. I’ll never forget the sound of the woman screaming after she was told her husband had just died. We had spent all day hoping that the surgery would go well, and when the doctors came to see us at 7 p.m. to say all had went well, we had all breathed a huge sigh of relief. Hearing that woman screaming, as well as hearing from her daughter that the mom had simply collapsed after hearing the news, was a reminder that even after the surgery they are incredibly fragile and susceptible to complications. Nonetheless, I knew that Mom would be fine. When I left for Connecticut last Monday, she was still in the open heart recovery on a ventilator and unconscious, but the prognosis was good. I felt comfortable leaving her, knowing that when I returned she would be awake, walking, and maybe even at home.

I set out for Connecticut in my brother’s Jeep pulling an empty trailer. Fourteen hours later I pulled in at Dawn’s house, a very welcome sight. Exhausted, I slept 6.5 hours without waking up even once, something I haven’t done in probably at least a year if not more. I dug through my storage unit the next morning looking for my cold weather clothing. I was numb by the time I finished. Dawn and I spent the evening at Michelle’s house, and clearly I have forgotten how to walk in winter because I hit an icy patch and went down—saved the wine from hitting the ground though.

Wednesday I spent the day at Big Picture High School, even going to the staff meeting, which is a lot less painful when you don’t have anything invested in it. I met Sandy for dinner at Loomis Chaffee school, where she works, and then headed over to her house where I was to spend two nights. I had lunch with a friend Thursday at Panera and finally got that chicken chipotle sandwich and cup of broccoli cheddar soup I had been missing. (Surprising, I’ve found that now that I’m here, the idea of eating all that food I was missing just doesn’t do it for me. Other than the Krispy Kreme donuts and the Tim Tams because those are my crack!) Another free dinner Thursday night with Sandy had me feeling like a charity case, but I’m learning to embrace it.

Friday afternoon I met the old BPHS gang for happy hour and then we followed that up with karaoke at The Fly in West Hartford. It was nice to have a better song selection since the selection in Silencio in English is quite limited. However, I did feel a little unprepared when I saw one guy bring out his own microphone! Seriously . . . who brings their own mic to karaoke?!

Saturday I cleaned out the storage unit and loaded the trailer, which proved to be more of an adventure than I bargained for. At one point I wanted to just leave the trailer somewhere filled with my stuff. That or just give everything away that wouldn’t fit in the Jeep. Luckily, Jen knew how to put air in car tires (yes, I’m admitting I didn’t know how to do that), and I felt somewhat more comfortable after that. And I felt even more comfortable after we sat under the sleeping bag at Dawn’s house to warm up. Cause you know, it had only been like 10 degrees that morning considering the wind chill. I have no idea how I will ever make it up to Dawn, Mike, and Jen for their help that morning.

Jen and I met Erika for a late lunch. Then we played the Wii at Julie’s house after she cooked dinner. Yes, another free dinner. It was an awesome evening with wonderful, generous, loving friends, some of whom really, really want to come visit me this summer. Jen said to me at one point, “You have awesome friends.” I couldn’t agree more. I’ve realized that while there isn’t a whole lot about the States that I miss (food, places, etc.), what I have missed is the wonderful interactions with my family and friends. I’ve had lots of really good belly laughs while I’ve been here.

SuperBowl Sunday . . . well, maybe we just shouldn’t even talk about that other than to say it could’ve ended better.

And then Monday I left Dawn’s house at 6:30 a.m. for the long, long drive back to Kentucky, this time pulling a full trailer. I was surprised to find that the trailer rode so easily behind the Jeep that I actually forgot it was there when I was cruising down the Interstate and not changing lanes. And since we had aired up the tires, it barely used more gas than it had going up, which tells me I could’ve saved a little bit of gas money had I aired them up before I left. Oh, well, live and learn, right? I rolled into my parents’ house 14.5 hours later—not a bad time actually. I fell into bed shortly thereafter. Who would think that sitting in a car all day could make one so tired? It was really just the stress of it all, really, and now that it’s parked in my parents’ driveway, I feel like I can at least breathe a small sigh of relief.

This morning my dad and I could not be deterred by the 4-5 inches of snow that had fallen. I hadn’t seen my mom for a week and what’s a little snow. My mom looks wonderful. She was coming out of the bathroom as we arrived, so I was able to see just how much she had improved since I left a week ago—saw a few other things, too, given the openness of hospital gowns! She went for a walk this afternoon of 300 feet, and though she was completely exhausted afterward, she did it. Her biggest challenge at this point, in my opinion, is her roommate who has a complaint for everything, even when nobody is listening. At one point I had to intervene between her and my dad who were arguing. An hour later I was wishing I had let him go at her because even though he may not be the healthiest person alive, I think he could take her and I wish he would. I’m not a violent person, but I doubt there’s a single person on staff on the 8th floor at this hospital who would turn me in if I held a pillow over this woman’s face. Where is Dr. Kevorkian when you need him?