Back to School - Year 5

I can't believe it. My child is in Grade 5 - the last of her elementary years. I remember when she was in the Beginning Class - the ripe old age of three! With a red jumper and wee little love puffs in her hair, she happily made her first journey into learning and began some of her closest friendships. It was only 2 - four hour classes a week and she relished every moment. Ever the social butterfly, she continues to this day to be the peacekeeper and convener of her class. In her little world, everyone should get along and as her teacher told us several times, she is necessary because she is the glue that holds her class group together. That's her role.

And it all began many years ago.

So I will drive her into school tomorrow in the first outfit she has picked for herself to wear. She has always deferred to me to dress her but this year is a big one of independence and she wants to pick out her outfit. I can't wait to see what it is.

She is so excited, she has made her lunch already and says she'll get up at 6.

This is going to sound strange but I am somehow in a melancholic mood. The TV is playing Sirius satellite - I must admit I love satellite radio... and it is on "The Bridge". Slower songs from the past 30 years or so. Right now, John Denver. It is making me feel like my life has passed me by at incredible speed and Kami only makes it move faster and faster. Every year has become quicker in it's completion and I am coming to realize that our relationship will evolve and change as she grows into the person God created her to be. We have such a special bond now. She is somewhere between a little girl and a young lady. Her body is changing and she pushes back, gently, but exerts her need for self expression. All the while, hanging onto my hand and needing to cuddle at night with me and listen to her say her prayers. When does that stop? I hope never but I know someday.

So my job as a mother bird is to nurture this blessed soul and then gently push her out of the nest to let her fly away on her own. And all with the hope that she will return over and over again and share her love and joy of life while I listen anxiously and proudly of her journey through womanhood.

Oh my gosh. I do want to do it all over again; slow it down. Take each moment and savor it. Stop and breathe in the beauty of each step. Her sweet little baby voice. Her baby powder smell. The way she scrunches up her nose when she laughs. The way she laughs no matter whether she falls or actually makes it up the two step slide. The sheer innocence and utter ecstasy of her pure life - where every second is a new experience.

If we could only bottle that life would be so much more fun wouldn't it?

Did I say more to come?

I have struggled as to whether to step back and "super document" how I almost lost my dear husband. Because it feels like stepping back to fear, I have decided not to do it. I will, however, close this off by saying that he is recovering very well. His cholesterol was super high with reversed numbers, he is diabetic, has super high blood pressure and his thyroid simply does not work.

Suffice to say that he has not been to his physician in over 6 years. And at that time he was warned, given a statin drug and made a decision not to take it. He is certainly very regretful because his left carotid artery is almost completely blocked and his chance of reoccurrence is between 30 -50%.

I always said that if you don't want to go to the doctor for yourself, go for your child. She needs her parents. So I will end this chapter by saying that I hope you will all learn your "numbers". Go on that statin drug if need be. They are a miracle truly! Eat properly and exercise. Even if you hate it. In this great big world you are loved by so many (even more than you realize!) and you owe it to those loves in your life to know just how well you are doing.

Thank God we were so lucky. It could have been so much worse. I now appreciate each day in an entirely different way and am thankful for each breath and for all of you, my friends.

A month in a week... Part One

It happened late last Friday night. I was speaking with a friend of my husband's, patiently listening to the details of his divorce. It seemed like the perfect moment had come for me to give the phone to Gary. I slid the phone into his hand and continued typing on Facebook. There wasn't a word. I said, "Say hello, Gary. Steve is on the phone." Silence. "Come on Gary..." I thought in that second - maybe he's asleep. So I leaned towards him and nudged him, all the while hearing Gary... Gary... Gary... through the receiver.

It was then that I thought - well the joke is over. I looked at him. He was frozen. No movement. His eyes 1/2 open and fixed - one more open than the other. The sides of his lips shuffled side to side slowly and he started to drool. My mind wasn't able to make sense of this. I started to shout his name - trying to get his attention. Nothing. It was as if he was there with me but not there. I then hung up the phone telling Steve something was wrong with Gary and told my husband that I was going to call 911. He looked at me - intensely. Help me - I could see it in his eyes. Help me.

So then I called 911 for the first time in my life. I told the operator that my husband was having a stroke. I thought it was a stroke. I wasn't sure. Something was wrong with him. Please send help. Now. I need an ambulance.

It felt like only a minute had passed and apparently there was a lot of banging at my front door. My daughter had two friends for a sleepover. Kami came and told me she thought that someone was breaking in. I told her to open the door. She had absolutely no idea what was going on. Once they opened the door, the children went and locked themselves in Kami's bedroom. Three police officers, then 4 paramedics, then the head of our Fire Department - our wonderful neighbor. The outside of my home was lit up like a Christmas tree. All of them rushed into my bedroom and surrounded the bed. I stood there, still on the phone with 911 in a sports bra and underwear.

Gary snapped out of it and was looking around the room. It seemed like he was wondering what was going on. Real shock and awe. Later he would tell me that he knew something was going on but simply could not snap out of it. He passed all the paramedic tests with flying colors but I still had him transported to the hospital. I was sure he had a stroke. My friend Jill took me up to the hospital in my car while her husband took the children. It was so fast.

(Sidenote - My friend Evan from across the road told me to put some clothes on because the paramedics were adorable. I couldn't believe I was standing there in my underwear! How bloody embarrassing!)

They did a variety of tests and kept him overnight. The conclusion was that he had had a TIA - a Transcient Ischemic Attack - or a mini-stroke. At noon the discharged him and he came home.

We spent a comfortable night at home. Hopefully the worst was over.

Sunday began uneventfully. However, by four in the afternoon, Gary was unable to talk properly or read. I became "Yeshi". What I later learned was that this is called "Word Salad". It makes perfect sense to the speaker. He isn't hearing the garble. Just saying it. Needless to say, I found this quite alarming so after a quick phone call, we went back to the hospital. Was it another stroke? They didn't know at the hospital however a call from emergency to my GP scheduled an MRI and echos of his heart and carotid artery for Monday at 11:00 AM. He was released yet again. And my mind entered the revolving door of what ifs.