The aftershocks
Have you ever dropped a stone into a pond while standing on a bridge? It is something I have done many times. I always found the concentric circles that radiated from the drop zone very calming...almost predictable, or so I though. It is so funny, insert sarcastic snort here, how "perspective" can change depending on your vantage point.
We had left Advocate Lutheran General riding on an epic high. Boy had we needed it. There for a while the pendulum had swung violently. For a while it seemed as though we couldn't turn around without something happening. There was the doctor's appointment I had taken Sandy, Rich's mom, to when 7 months pregnant. Myself, über pregnant with a 2.5 year old and an 80 year old. It was supposed to be a routine check up. Upon seeing Sandy, we were sent to the ER. Sandy was suffering from an irregular heartbeat, she needed to have an ablation. Her medical situation was complicated and required more specific monitoring, more than we were able to provide given the upcoming expansion of our family.
Or, there was the first time I tried to leave the hospital and visit home (Charlie this time). Sandy was preparing for a major procedure. She needed bloodwork done. We had been in the car for less than five minutes when the phone rang. I knew by the ring. (Yes, I am clairvoyant and could tell by the timber!?!) The medical transport had taken Sandy to the to a lab, THE WRONG LAB, one that was closed on Saturdays. She was irate and understandably so. See, we hadn't told Sandy that Charlie had been hospitalized, there simply hadn't been time. She wasn't staying at home and we hadn't been home yet. We were on the way home to see Sophia when we were sidelined by fate's pendulum. Bob and weave, ebb and flow. Can you breathe while holding your breath?
We left Advocate Lutheran General so focused on the "moving forward" mantra that we failed to recognize what had transpired. We just wanted to be done with hospitals. We thought this was an isolated event. In fact, the more we focus on it being "over" the less it became a single assault with damage minimized. While I tried to evaluate, plan and safeguarded for the future, those concentric circles collided. We were so wrong. See we misjudged. Charlie's illness was merely one of many catastrophic events that were going on concurrently. It wasn't a pebble in a pond, but a backhoe in a backyard, aboveground pool. It was as if the septic tank had overflowed in the backyard on wedding day, a stinky mess, going from bad to worse.
Unfortunately, Sandra Kay Curtis would not be able to know her grandson as she would have liked, as I would have liked. She fought long and hard. She taught me many lessons. Charlie was 3 months old when she was granted reprieve from her human body and given her celestial form. One of the greatest lessons Sandy taught me was that we all learn the hard way. Otherwise, we learn that we don't have to earn it though handwork and effort. She would be pleased with all our hard work and effort. She would be so proud of her son, our rock, that works silently, diligently so that I can be a blogger, warrior mom. She would be so proud of her grandchildren for all they have accomplished.
We had left Advocate Lutheran General riding on an epic high. Boy had we needed it. There for a while the pendulum had swung violently. For a while it seemed as though we couldn't turn around without something happening. There was the doctor's appointment I had taken Sandy, Rich's mom, to when 7 months pregnant. Myself, über pregnant with a 2.5 year old and an 80 year old. It was supposed to be a routine check up. Upon seeing Sandy, we were sent to the ER. Sandy was suffering from an irregular heartbeat, she needed to have an ablation. Her medical situation was complicated and required more specific monitoring, more than we were able to provide given the upcoming expansion of our family.
Or, there was the first time I tried to leave the hospital and visit home (Charlie this time). Sandy was preparing for a major procedure. She needed bloodwork done. We had been in the car for less than five minutes when the phone rang. I knew by the ring. (Yes, I am clairvoyant and could tell by the timber!?!) The medical transport had taken Sandy to the to a lab, THE WRONG LAB, one that was closed on Saturdays. She was irate and understandably so. See, we hadn't told Sandy that Charlie had been hospitalized, there simply hadn't been time. She wasn't staying at home and we hadn't been home yet. We were on the way home to see Sophia when we were sidelined by fate's pendulum. Bob and weave, ebb and flow. Can you breathe while holding your breath?
We left Advocate Lutheran General so focused on the "moving forward" mantra that we failed to recognize what had transpired. We just wanted to be done with hospitals. We thought this was an isolated event. In fact, the more we focus on it being "over" the less it became a single assault with damage minimized. While I tried to evaluate, plan and safeguarded for the future, those concentric circles collided. We were so wrong. See we misjudged. Charlie's illness was merely one of many catastrophic events that were going on concurrently. It wasn't a pebble in a pond, but a backhoe in a backyard, aboveground pool. It was as if the septic tank had overflowed in the backyard on wedding day, a stinky mess, going from bad to worse.
Unfortunately, Sandra Kay Curtis would not be able to know her grandson as she would have liked, as I would have liked. She fought long and hard. She taught me many lessons. Charlie was 3 months old when she was granted reprieve from her human body and given her celestial form. One of the greatest lessons Sandy taught me was that we all learn the hard way. Otherwise, we learn that we don't have to earn it though handwork and effort. She would be pleased with all our hard work and effort. She would be so proud of her son, our rock, that works silently, diligently so that I can be a blogger, warrior mom. She would be so proud of her grandchildren for all they have accomplished.
Charlie would be hospitalized two more times before turning 9 months old. I spent several weekends before midterms and trimester report cards in the hospital telling our story to doctors while trying to grade papers. You cannot run the school trimester spirit assembly when you are at the hospital with your son and the other club sponsor has walking pneumonia.
By March 2016, Charlie fulfilled two of three criteria to be determined as failure to thrive: his head wasn't growing and he wasn't gaining weight. It seemed no matter how much I fortified my breastmilk, no matter how much I tried to get him to eat, that he would NOT grow. We had been hospitalized with RSV, had a febrile seizure with temperatures near 104 degrees and Rhinovirus. We were desperate, having been waiting to see a gastroenterologist for several months, we pleaded our case to the hospital doctors and nurses that had come to know us all too well.
The aftershocks don't stop. Grandma fell breaking her hip in February 2017. Mom's first stroke followed shortly after. Grandma died shortly after mom returned home. As a family we began the first of seven rounds of genetic testing on Charlie to determine if there was a congenital cause for his developmental delays. I would make the decision to take a professional leave of absence from my job.
By March 2017 Mom would recover, learning to walk again only to suffer a setback from her knee replacement in July 2017. She suffered 3 more strokes in September 2017. The pendulum swung as I drove back and forth between Illinois and Iowa. Between Early Intervention therapies, speciality medical appointments, back and forth I drove while the pendulum swung, radiating from the epicenter, ground zero.
In all honestly, the aftershocks have never stopped. The water is forever displaced. I cannot change what has happened. All I can do is work harder, smarter while learning from my mistakes. Then I will be more prepared to weather the storm.
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