I was driving home from my dad's late yesterday afternoon, and got caught up in traffic at the split that goes around Nashville. I finally made my way to the Shelby Ave exit, and as we were all creeping along, suddenly, just three cars in front of me, a car whipped around, hit the guardrail, hit a truck, flipped, and then skidded into the grassy area between the interstate and the exit ramp we were on. When the car came to a stop, a big black dog jumped out of the passenger window, and took off. Traffic simply went around what had just happened, and the first thing that crossed my mind was that this guy might be drunk and I didn't want to be involved. Plus, by the time the car had come to a stop, I was at the top of the exit ramp, and had no where to park and go help the man. I looked into the rear-view mirror and saw others stopping to help him, and suddenly I felt terrible. I'm a nurse. I should have stopped. I stop at little wrecks all the time, but I just didn't stop this time. The feelings of guilt were getting the best of me.... fast. As I turned right onto Shelby Ave, still creeping along with the traffic, I looked over to my right at the sidewalk, and there was the dog that had jumped out of the car. He was terrified and running away from the scene. I rolled down my window and whistled at him, thinking if he was friendly I could get him into my car and take him back to the scene and let the officers handle him. He wouldn't come near me. I pulled over into the right turn lane, and so did a lady in front of me. Together, with the help of another man who had stopped, we got the Rottweiler into the backseat of my car, and headed back to the scene. We parked, left the dog in the car and carefully crossed the exit ramp to get to where all the officers, EMTs and paramedics were. We told them what had happened with the dog, and that we had him. One of the officer's wives works at animal control, so he came and picked the dog up. I spoke with animal control last night and if the man does not recover (he had a seizure which caused the accident), the dog will be available for adoption in two weeks, otherwise, he will be put down. Harry the Rottweiler was the sweetest dog, and I have every intention of going to resuce him should his owner not come to claim him.
I believe the moral to this story, and the reason I wanted to share it, is because God wants us to do good and be an example of His love at every chance He gives us. Sometimes, however, we might be having a bad day, be in a negative mood, or, like me, simply miss our chance. But, God gave me a second chance to help someone and show the love of Christ. He brought that dog up that ramp and right beside my car so that I could help rescue the dog. If we are presented with a chance to show God's love, we should take it, even, and especially, if it's the second chance.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
God is changing me...
It's strange and unexpected what God has been doing in my soul lately. Things about me that I didn't think would ever change, are changing.
For example, Jeremy and I have kind of been at odds with each other lately because I had decided that I did not want children. My reasons for this were realistic... I didn't want the commitment. I wanted to be able to pick up and go whereever, whenever. I wanted to focus on us. I wanted to travel. I didn't want to be the mom at the restaurant with the screaming brat that everyone stares at. But in the last two weeks, God has honestly changed my heart. There's no other way I can explain it than this. I have a strong desire to become a mother in the next year or two. I have been dreaming about our children. I have seen their faces. It's creepy, but it's suddenly nice to think about.
I have also had a change of heart about midwifery. I almost switched to Women's Health instead of Midwifery two weeks ago because I found myself developing an aversion to pregnancy. The patients I was caring for in clinical mostly had unplanned and unwanted pregnancies. Not only was that enough to turn me off, but I know how much I am going to wish my mother was here to guide me when I do become pregnant, and more importantly, when we are trying to raise that child. I was comparing these unwanted pregnancies to my own future pregnancy, and it scared the bejeebies out of me. Thanks to a little counsel from Jay, I realized what my mind was doing, and had an Oprah "ah-ha" moment. I knew that I had gone into the field of midwifery for a reason, and that I could put my future pregnancy aside and care for all women, throughout the lifetime, pregnant or not, wanted or not. This is my duty as a midwife, and my calling as a follower of Jesus.
Another change of heart that I have had very recently is the type of music that I find myself no longer enjoying. Not to worry, I am still a huge Lady Gaga fan. ;-) It's some of the other music that I can no longer listen to and enjoy... music like Rihanna's and Nicki Minaj's latest albums simply disgust me. The foul language, the explicit sexual references, are simply not appealing or easy to listen to anymore. I don't want that negativity flowing into my brain and continuing to be a part of my life. Lady Gaga, however, who I believe has a higher purpose than just selling records, can stay. She continues to make positive differences in the lives of many.
I guess this is all just a part of becoming more of a woman than a girl, more of a professional than a student, and more independent than not. As the matriarch of my family, it's my responsibilty to develop into a mature and Godly woman, someone my mother and grandmothers would have wanted me to be. I'm trying harder everyday to be a better wife, daughter, friend, student and follower of Jesus. As long as I keep this up, I believe God will keep up His part of molding me into the woman I should be. He's not finished with me yet, so please be patient, people!
For example, Jeremy and I have kind of been at odds with each other lately because I had decided that I did not want children. My reasons for this were realistic... I didn't want the commitment. I wanted to be able to pick up and go whereever, whenever. I wanted to focus on us. I wanted to travel. I didn't want to be the mom at the restaurant with the screaming brat that everyone stares at. But in the last two weeks, God has honestly changed my heart. There's no other way I can explain it than this. I have a strong desire to become a mother in the next year or two. I have been dreaming about our children. I have seen their faces. It's creepy, but it's suddenly nice to think about.
I have also had a change of heart about midwifery. I almost switched to Women's Health instead of Midwifery two weeks ago because I found myself developing an aversion to pregnancy. The patients I was caring for in clinical mostly had unplanned and unwanted pregnancies. Not only was that enough to turn me off, but I know how much I am going to wish my mother was here to guide me when I do become pregnant, and more importantly, when we are trying to raise that child. I was comparing these unwanted pregnancies to my own future pregnancy, and it scared the bejeebies out of me. Thanks to a little counsel from Jay, I realized what my mind was doing, and had an Oprah "ah-ha" moment. I knew that I had gone into the field of midwifery for a reason, and that I could put my future pregnancy aside and care for all women, throughout the lifetime, pregnant or not, wanted or not. This is my duty as a midwife, and my calling as a follower of Jesus.
Another change of heart that I have had very recently is the type of music that I find myself no longer enjoying. Not to worry, I am still a huge Lady Gaga fan. ;-) It's some of the other music that I can no longer listen to and enjoy... music like Rihanna's and Nicki Minaj's latest albums simply disgust me. The foul language, the explicit sexual references, are simply not appealing or easy to listen to anymore. I don't want that negativity flowing into my brain and continuing to be a part of my life. Lady Gaga, however, who I believe has a higher purpose than just selling records, can stay. She continues to make positive differences in the lives of many.
I guess this is all just a part of becoming more of a woman than a girl, more of a professional than a student, and more independent than not. As the matriarch of my family, it's my responsibilty to develop into a mature and Godly woman, someone my mother and grandmothers would have wanted me to be. I'm trying harder everyday to be a better wife, daughter, friend, student and follower of Jesus. As long as I keep this up, I believe God will keep up His part of molding me into the woman I should be. He's not finished with me yet, so please be patient, people!
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
My Mama's Battle and Victory over Cancer
In spring of last year, mom started having some gastrointestinal symptoms (I won't go into detail). Anyway, after a while of nothing helping that she could get over the counter, and not having had a primary care provider in years, she decided to look up the OBGYN that delivered me 25 years ago. She found him working at Vandy over at 100 Oaks. So, she went to see him and he did a routine exam including a pap smear.
Jeremy and I went to buy new bedding one day at Kohl's, and mom called while we were sitting in the parking lot. "The pap smear came back abnormal," she said, "So he wants me to come back in next week." I was frozen. I was taking the classes at school that explained abnormal paps. I knew what it could mean. I remember going to work that night. I was still on orientation with Jay. He was the first person, other than Jeremy who was with me when I got the news, that I told.
Jay ended up switching shifts with me so that I could go with mom to that next appointment. As we sat in the exam room at 100 Oaks, Dr. Zimmerman put his hand on my mom's knee and said, "It looks like cancer, Carolyn, but we're going to beat this. You're going to beat this." Again, I sat... frozen.
We drove home, not in silence, but coming up with ways to tell my dad. She left that up to me since I'm a nurse. Great. I remember driving through Captain D's on the way home to grab dinner and I said to her, "If this is really cancer, I'm getting pregnant. I'm giving you a grandchild." Obviously, I never did.
We told dad. He was frozen, but we all stayed very optimistic about everything. Mom would have the hysterectomy in May and do chemo after that. Everything went well and as planned. She tolerated surgery like a champ, although she had some recovery issues with fluid. Chemo never made her nauseous. She didn't mind it at all. It did not slow her down much at all, and I was so proud.
Mom was fine at Christmas. Her Ca125 (cancer indicator lab) had come down to normal. She was regaining strength and was able to do almost whatever she felt like doing. She got tired easily, but other than that, everything was going great, and we were happy.
This May, almost suddenly, it seemed, mom started to deteriorate. She had worked during the annual Studebaker Show like it was nothing. But, something was changing. Mom was getting weaker, and her Ca125 was climbing. In early June, Dad called me at work one night just before it was time to clock in and told me that mom's Ca125 was over 1000. I knew at that point that this wasn't good. On June 25th, Dad's high school reunion took place. He had bought tickets for himself and mom, but mom was too weak to go, and also too weak to be left at home by herself, so I stayed with her while he went to the reunion. We watched TV, I painted my nails, and everything was as normal as it could be. The next night, a Sunday, a had a singing gig at a local church, but mom was too weak to attend. My parents never, ever, missed me sing. I knew she would have come if she were able, but it still hurt that they couldn't be there. Jeremy, my in-laws, his grandparents, and my friends Evelyn, Jay, and Mark came to hear me. After church, Jay and Mark stopped by to see my mom, which none of us really figured would be the last night she ever spent at home.
On Monday morning, dad took her to the Vandy emergency room and she was admitted to the hospital. I was on my way to the hospital when dad called and said that she had gotten a room on 4 round wing, the floor on which I began my nursing career. I knew at least some of the people that still worked there, and knew she would be in good hands. I stayed with mom from that point on, every night, only leaving for a couple hours a day to eat, sleep, or get clean clothes. She was able to get up with my assistance to go to walk to the bathroom, but had a really hard time getting comfortable in the bed. That lasted all week. Friends stopped by to see us, brought food, flowers, and cards. The support was overwhelming. Still, I felt so alone. Dad stayed with us during the day, especially during the couple hours a day when I was gone to keep my sanity, but he left around 6pm every day. As mom would sleep, I would stay up and just look at her, thanking God for giving her to me to have as a mother, but already mourning because I knew what was coming quickly. One night it stormed, and although I knew I was probably about to lose my mom, the storm felt, to me, like a showering of God's provision and love. I knew I was not alone in that room.
I made a couple trips up to the SI, and as one of the charge nurse asked me how mom was doing, I responded back with, "I give her a year. I don't think she'll be with us in a year."
Doctors came and went. They had found a mass on mom's liver, which I found out on Wednesday, so the ideas of a liver resection, or trying to increase her strength with TPNTPN, it was never started. I still don't know why, and I will wonder why we didn't at least give it a shot for the rest of my life. I wonder if it could have made her stronger.
On Friday afternoon, mom started getting a little worse. She was just barely jaundice, but she started smelling like a liver patient to me. I would sit on the bed with her and rub her back where all the fluid was collecting, and I could smell the ammonia coming through her skin. Her heart rate began to increase, her blood pressure dropped slightly, and she was so full of fluid that she could barely breath. I started texting my friend Jay, and another nurse that happened to be working in the SICU that night to get their opinion. The nurse on my unit talked to the charge nurse and he walked over to the round wing to see mom. Before he left, he told me that he only had one bed on the unit, but that if she needed it, it was hers. After repeatedly mentioning to mom's current nurse that I thought she needed albumin and Lasix, and getting no reasonable response, I asked the charge nurse to call a doctor. Finally, a doctor came to see mom. I had told mom to act extra pitiful, because I wanted more than anything for her to be transferred to the SICU where I knew she would get the monitoring that she needed. The doctor agreed that she did, in fact, need albumin and Lasix (go figure), and consulted with the attending physician on call. She explained to mom that because the combination of albumin and Lasix could sometimes cause a drop in blood pressure, she wanted mom to be on a monitored floor, and she put in 'transfer to 9 north' orders. The SICU's back hall is the same as 9N, so I immediately called the charge nurse in SI to let him know and to see if mom could be transferred to one of our back hall beds. He said he was sorry but that it turned out the only bed he had open was an ICU bed and he could not take mom. I was heartbroken, but I figured that at least we would be just across the hall from the SI, so I knew my friends were there if I needed them. We started packing up our stuff to transfer, and in 5 minutes, the 4 round wing charge nurse came in and said they had opened up a back hall bed in the SICU for mom. I was ecstatic.
We got mom moved over, and all my coworkers in the SICU seemed shocked to see me as a patient family member. Mom was transferred to room 9645, and Hollie assumed her care. I tried to stay out of the way, but it was difficult. Mom was tired, so as soon as she drifted off to sleep, I crept around the unit, got something to eat, and went back into the room to stay with mom. But I never slept. I couldn't sleep. They always say, "Sleep when the baby sleeps." But I couldn't. The next morning, I left the hospital around 8 am, drove to Jay's, started a load of laundry, drove home, got some more clothes, went back to Jay's, tried to sleep for 3 hours, finished my laundry and went back to the hospital. When I got back to mom's room, I think it was around 3pm. My mom's friend and her husband, who is an attorney, were there. They were signing mom's last will and testament. DNR/DNI paperwork had been filled out, and the attending physician had told my parents that there was nothing else that could be done. I knew this conversation was coming, I just didn't know how close it would be until the end.
Our preacher came by and talked to mom about her salvation, making sure that she was as peace with her life after death. She was scared. So scared. She said that as many times as she had asked Jesus into her heart, and believed it with her mind, she never felt it to be real in her heart. We prayed with her one more time, and asked God to alleviate her fears of death.
Mom started to get super uncomfortable. The night nurse gave her some Ativan, and it knocked her out from 7pm until 1am. I could not sleep. When I finally tried to lay down at around 1, mom woke up from the Ativan. The effects of it made her feel funny, and she didn't like it at all. She kept saying, "My head feels so fuzzy." It was funny, but I know she didn't like the feeling. I could not keep her comfortable. It didn't matter what position I put her pillows in, she hurt. We tried Lortab and Dilaudid, but they didn't help much. All night long, we were up and down with her. I stood her up, even got her to the chair once, but that only lasted about 10 minutes. She would sit on the side of the bed and rest her forehead on my chest and I would rock her back and forth. This seemed to be the most comfortable position for her, but it was heartbreaking to me. You never want to have to hold your mom like that. In that position, we had truly switched roles. I was rocking and consoling her, the kind of stuff that a child should never have to do, but I did it with love and respect for her and all she was. It was in that position that she said to me, "Pooh, you don't deserve this." No, I didn't. She was right, but more so than that, she didn't deserve to be in that position. But, when in this life do we ever get what we deserve, good or bad?
At around 5am, she was resting pretty peacefully, so I tried to close my eyes for a few minutes. A brand new, still wet-behind-the-ears doctor came in to see her. I secretly listened to their conversation. He was there to check on her medically, but he asked her if she felt sure about her salvation. She said yes, and he asked if he could pray with her. There, in the still of the morning, I listened to the sweetest prayer come out of that doctor as he prayed for my dying mother and held her hand. I will never forget that moment. Then around 6, mom's attending came in. He sat with us on the bed and told us we were going to ignore her blood pressure, which was 60's/40's at that point. Mom said, "Oh. Is it low?" "Uh, yeah, kinda low, but we won't worry about that," he said. He told her if she wanted us to push the bed down the hall so she could see the view, or whatever she wanted, to consider it done. She didn't want any of that. She just wanted to be comfortable. I decided to shower at around 7, and while I was in the shower, the charge nurse, Joe, came to check on mom and me and hollered at me to make sure I washed behind my ears. I realize that's random, but he said mom laughed at him when he said it through the door to me, so it's important to me. When I got out of the shower, I sat with mom and tried to keep her comfortable. The dayshift nurse came in and held my hand and prayed with me over mom, which I will also never forget.
The rest of the details of mom's death bring up too much emotion for me to jot down. They will remain only in my heart and mind. Dad and I were there with her, each on one side, holding her hands as she passed at 10:10am on July 3, 2011.
It's taken me almost 5 months to write this. It's not perfect. There were moments spent with mom that last week that I did not include. Death is a very intimate experience, and as I would not allow you to video my wedding night, I simply cannot share all the details of mom's death experience. It was an amazing week. I was touched by God that week in a way I never could have imagined. You never know how strong you can be until it is required of you. If you read this, and you had anything to do with that week, the time during which mom was sick, or even praying for us recently, know how grateful I am for you. My mom was an incredible spirit, and it is my intention to carry on the mixture of wit and class that she exemplified. Please take me seriously when I say to never take friends and family for granted, and to, each day, LIVE PASSIONATELY.
Lord, thank you for delivering my mama.
Jeremy and I went to buy new bedding one day at Kohl's, and mom called while we were sitting in the parking lot. "The pap smear came back abnormal," she said, "So he wants me to come back in next week." I was frozen. I was taking the classes at school that explained abnormal paps. I knew what it could mean. I remember going to work that night. I was still on orientation with Jay. He was the first person, other than Jeremy who was with me when I got the news, that I told.
Jay ended up switching shifts with me so that I could go with mom to that next appointment. As we sat in the exam room at 100 Oaks, Dr. Zimmerman put his hand on my mom's knee and said, "It looks like cancer, Carolyn, but we're going to beat this. You're going to beat this." Again, I sat... frozen.
We drove home, not in silence, but coming up with ways to tell my dad. She left that up to me since I'm a nurse. Great. I remember driving through Captain D's on the way home to grab dinner and I said to her, "If this is really cancer, I'm getting pregnant. I'm giving you a grandchild." Obviously, I never did.
We told dad. He was frozen, but we all stayed very optimistic about everything. Mom would have the hysterectomy in May and do chemo after that. Everything went well and as planned. She tolerated surgery like a champ, although she had some recovery issues with fluid. Chemo never made her nauseous. She didn't mind it at all. It did not slow her down much at all, and I was so proud.
Mom was fine at Christmas. Her Ca125 (cancer indicator lab) had come down to normal. She was regaining strength and was able to do almost whatever she felt like doing. She got tired easily, but other than that, everything was going great, and we were happy.
This May, almost suddenly, it seemed, mom started to deteriorate. She had worked during the annual Studebaker Show like it was nothing. But, something was changing. Mom was getting weaker, and her Ca125 was climbing. In early June, Dad called me at work one night just before it was time to clock in and told me that mom's Ca125 was over 1000. I knew at that point that this wasn't good. On June 25th, Dad's high school reunion took place. He had bought tickets for himself and mom, but mom was too weak to go, and also too weak to be left at home by herself, so I stayed with her while he went to the reunion. We watched TV, I painted my nails, and everything was as normal as it could be. The next night, a Sunday, a had a singing gig at a local church, but mom was too weak to attend. My parents never, ever, missed me sing. I knew she would have come if she were able, but it still hurt that they couldn't be there. Jeremy, my in-laws, his grandparents, and my friends Evelyn, Jay, and Mark came to hear me. After church, Jay and Mark stopped by to see my mom, which none of us really figured would be the last night she ever spent at home.
On Monday morning, dad took her to the Vandy emergency room and she was admitted to the hospital. I was on my way to the hospital when dad called and said that she had gotten a room on 4 round wing, the floor on which I began my nursing career. I knew at least some of the people that still worked there, and knew she would be in good hands. I stayed with mom from that point on, every night, only leaving for a couple hours a day to eat, sleep, or get clean clothes. She was able to get up with my assistance to go to walk to the bathroom, but had a really hard time getting comfortable in the bed. That lasted all week. Friends stopped by to see us, brought food, flowers, and cards. The support was overwhelming. Still, I felt so alone. Dad stayed with us during the day, especially during the couple hours a day when I was gone to keep my sanity, but he left around 6pm every day. As mom would sleep, I would stay up and just look at her, thanking God for giving her to me to have as a mother, but already mourning because I knew what was coming quickly. One night it stormed, and although I knew I was probably about to lose my mom, the storm felt, to me, like a showering of God's provision and love. I knew I was not alone in that room.
I made a couple trips up to the SI, and as one of the charge nurse asked me how mom was doing, I responded back with, "I give her a year. I don't think she'll be with us in a year."
Doctors came and went. They had found a mass on mom's liver, which I found out on Wednesday, so the ideas of a liver resection, or trying to increase her strength with TPNTPN, it was never started. I still don't know why, and I will wonder why we didn't at least give it a shot for the rest of my life. I wonder if it could have made her stronger.
On Friday afternoon, mom started getting a little worse. She was just barely jaundice, but she started smelling like a liver patient to me. I would sit on the bed with her and rub her back where all the fluid was collecting, and I could smell the ammonia coming through her skin. Her heart rate began to increase, her blood pressure dropped slightly, and she was so full of fluid that she could barely breath. I started texting my friend Jay, and another nurse that happened to be working in the SICU that night to get their opinion. The nurse on my unit talked to the charge nurse and he walked over to the round wing to see mom. Before he left, he told me that he only had one bed on the unit, but that if she needed it, it was hers. After repeatedly mentioning to mom's current nurse that I thought she needed albumin and Lasix, and getting no reasonable response, I asked the charge nurse to call a doctor. Finally, a doctor came to see mom. I had told mom to act extra pitiful, because I wanted more than anything for her to be transferred to the SICU where I knew she would get the monitoring that she needed. The doctor agreed that she did, in fact, need albumin and Lasix (go figure), and consulted with the attending physician on call. She explained to mom that because the combination of albumin and Lasix could sometimes cause a drop in blood pressure, she wanted mom to be on a monitored floor, and she put in 'transfer to 9 north' orders. The SICU's back hall is the same as 9N, so I immediately called the charge nurse in SI to let him know and to see if mom could be transferred to one of our back hall beds. He said he was sorry but that it turned out the only bed he had open was an ICU bed and he could not take mom. I was heartbroken, but I figured that at least we would be just across the hall from the SI, so I knew my friends were there if I needed them. We started packing up our stuff to transfer, and in 5 minutes, the 4 round wing charge nurse came in and said they had opened up a back hall bed in the SICU for mom. I was ecstatic.
We got mom moved over, and all my coworkers in the SICU seemed shocked to see me as a patient family member. Mom was transferred to room 9645, and Hollie assumed her care. I tried to stay out of the way, but it was difficult. Mom was tired, so as soon as she drifted off to sleep, I crept around the unit, got something to eat, and went back into the room to stay with mom. But I never slept. I couldn't sleep. They always say, "Sleep when the baby sleeps." But I couldn't. The next morning, I left the hospital around 8 am, drove to Jay's, started a load of laundry, drove home, got some more clothes, went back to Jay's, tried to sleep for 3 hours, finished my laundry and went back to the hospital. When I got back to mom's room, I think it was around 3pm. My mom's friend and her husband, who is an attorney, were there. They were signing mom's last will and testament. DNR/DNI paperwork had been filled out, and the attending physician had told my parents that there was nothing else that could be done. I knew this conversation was coming, I just didn't know how close it would be until the end.
Our preacher came by and talked to mom about her salvation, making sure that she was as peace with her life after death. She was scared. So scared. She said that as many times as she had asked Jesus into her heart, and believed it with her mind, she never felt it to be real in her heart. We prayed with her one more time, and asked God to alleviate her fears of death.
Mom started to get super uncomfortable. The night nurse gave her some Ativan, and it knocked her out from 7pm until 1am. I could not sleep. When I finally tried to lay down at around 1, mom woke up from the Ativan. The effects of it made her feel funny, and she didn't like it at all. She kept saying, "My head feels so fuzzy." It was funny, but I know she didn't like the feeling. I could not keep her comfortable. It didn't matter what position I put her pillows in, she hurt. We tried Lortab and Dilaudid, but they didn't help much. All night long, we were up and down with her. I stood her up, even got her to the chair once, but that only lasted about 10 minutes. She would sit on the side of the bed and rest her forehead on my chest and I would rock her back and forth. This seemed to be the most comfortable position for her, but it was heartbreaking to me. You never want to have to hold your mom like that. In that position, we had truly switched roles. I was rocking and consoling her, the kind of stuff that a child should never have to do, but I did it with love and respect for her and all she was. It was in that position that she said to me, "Pooh, you don't deserve this." No, I didn't. She was right, but more so than that, she didn't deserve to be in that position. But, when in this life do we ever get what we deserve, good or bad?
At around 5am, she was resting pretty peacefully, so I tried to close my eyes for a few minutes. A brand new, still wet-behind-the-ears doctor came in to see her. I secretly listened to their conversation. He was there to check on her medically, but he asked her if she felt sure about her salvation. She said yes, and he asked if he could pray with her. There, in the still of the morning, I listened to the sweetest prayer come out of that doctor as he prayed for my dying mother and held her hand. I will never forget that moment. Then around 6, mom's attending came in. He sat with us on the bed and told us we were going to ignore her blood pressure, which was 60's/40's at that point. Mom said, "Oh. Is it low?" "Uh, yeah, kinda low, but we won't worry about that," he said. He told her if she wanted us to push the bed down the hall so she could see the view, or whatever she wanted, to consider it done. She didn't want any of that. She just wanted to be comfortable. I decided to shower at around 7, and while I was in the shower, the charge nurse, Joe, came to check on mom and me and hollered at me to make sure I washed behind my ears. I realize that's random, but he said mom laughed at him when he said it through the door to me, so it's important to me. When I got out of the shower, I sat with mom and tried to keep her comfortable. The dayshift nurse came in and held my hand and prayed with me over mom, which I will also never forget.
The rest of the details of mom's death bring up too much emotion for me to jot down. They will remain only in my heart and mind. Dad and I were there with her, each on one side, holding her hands as she passed at 10:10am on July 3, 2011.
It's taken me almost 5 months to write this. It's not perfect. There were moments spent with mom that last week that I did not include. Death is a very intimate experience, and as I would not allow you to video my wedding night, I simply cannot share all the details of mom's death experience. It was an amazing week. I was touched by God that week in a way I never could have imagined. You never know how strong you can be until it is required of you. If you read this, and you had anything to do with that week, the time during which mom was sick, or even praying for us recently, know how grateful I am for you. My mom was an incredible spirit, and it is my intention to carry on the mixture of wit and class that she exemplified. Please take me seriously when I say to never take friends and family for granted, and to, each day, LIVE PASSIONATELY.
Lord, thank you for delivering my mama.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Change
A lot in my life has changed this year... well, August 19th, 2010- August 19, 2011 to be exact.
Allow me to try to explain.
Last year on August 19th, I had plans to meet Jay and his mom for lunch in Cool Springs before she whisked him away to Birmingham for the weekend for his cousin's wedding the next day, then had to sing in a wedding that night. On my way to lunch, I heard Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" on the radio. Not knowing who was singing it, I fell in love with the song. I had a lovely lunch with my best friend and his mom, then came home and bought all of GaGa's music on iTunes. Off to the wedding I went.
School was to start back the next week, and the thought of going back was making me physically ill. I sang in the wedding, came home to an empty house because Jeremy was at a football game, and had a panic attack. I had been asking advice from my parents and talking over with Jeremy the idea of postponing school for a year since mom was getting sick. I still had no idea what to do, but started texting Jay to try to talk it out and calm myself down. I told him I was having a panic attack and freaking out and didn't know what to do, so he invited me to come to Birmingham to clear my mind and talk it over. Jeremy had my debit card, and it was 9pm so getting money from the bank was no option. I lied to my mom (I know... lying is bad.) - told her I needed a little cash so I could stay at the hospital with Mark, so she gave me $20, and I hit the interstate. I got several miles down the road and texted Jeremy to let him know where I was headed and what I was doing. He seemed like he tried to understand, but I knew he didn't.
So, I got to Birmingham and talked to Jay about all that was running through my mind about school- the pro's and con's of putting it off for a year, my reasons for putting it off, and what my options were. We went to the wedding the next day, and came back to Nashville on Sunday. I worked Monday night, and on Tuesday, I met with my advisors and they gave me the option of only taking a couple online classes so I could avoid taking a leave of absence in case mom got really sick and I was unable to still go back this fall. After my meeting with them, Jay and I went to the pool.
I started doing things I hadn't taken the time to do before, like make extravagant Halloween costumes, go dancing, make plans with friends, etc. I did things I wanted to do. I went to see Lady GaGa three times in concert, went to The Thomas House in Red Boiling Springs for a ghost tour, went to see Katy Perry in concert, went on the SICU winter and summer retreats, visited The Biltmore, saw Jay in Carmen at TPAC, saw a few other shows, got pedicures, manicures, and massages, and did a bunch of small, random things here and there. I've enjoyed the last year, except for losing my mom.
Now, it's again time to refocus. School starts back on Wednesday. My classes will now begin to be more tailored to my major, nurse-midwifery. I will have labs and clinicals and get to learn about how to actually be a midwife, which I'm pretty pumped about. However, I'm a little... ok, a lot... stressed about not being about to just go out and do whatever I want, whenever I want. Being an adult can suck sometimes.
This year, I have some plans for myself. I have only ever read two real books in my lifetime for pleasure, other than children's books. I'm currently reading The Help, and am waiting on Eat, Pray, Love, and Elizabeth Gilbert's next book, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage, to arrive. I have also ordered Lady GaGa's songs in sheet music and will bring my keyboard down from my parents house and try to teach myself how to play again. I figure if it's music I already love, it will go much better. I have also started counting calories, and hope to shed a few, hopefully many, pounds of flab.
I have some challenges ahead of me in the coming year as well. Besides having to refocus my time on school, I also have to make sure my dad is coping alright with the loss of his wife. And, now Grandmuz's cancer has come back, so we are in the process of learning what her options are.
I will have to say that I've learned a few things this year. I've learned first and foremost that no one is in charge of your happiness except yourself. If you want something, it's yours to go out there and get. No one is going to bring it to you on a platter, unless, of course, it's chicken. I've also learned a little bit more about what I want in life, and what I don't want... and am still developing these emotions/feelings/yearnings daily.
I've learned that if you truly love something, you have to let it go, and it may or may not come back to you, but you cannot wait for its decision... you must keep moving forward at all times. I've learned who I can trust, and that's God. Unfortunately, some of the people I trusted the most have hurt me the most this year, whether they know it or not, but that's just a part of being human. I don't hold grudges.
I said that the last year, specifically August 19, 2010- August 19, 2011, had changed me. Well, ironically, instead of hitting the interstate and beginning a journey like I did last year, I woke up on the 20th and learned that my year had ended with my face hitting the asphalt. Strangely enough, the jolt was enough to wake me up and teach me even more. But I digress....
My goals for this year are to keep doing what I know is important in life: love God, live passionately, and forget regret. I hope you'll join in these goals with me.
Lord, into the next year of adventure that we call life, deliver me.
Allow me to try to explain.
Last year on August 19th, I had plans to meet Jay and his mom for lunch in Cool Springs before she whisked him away to Birmingham for the weekend for his cousin's wedding the next day, then had to sing in a wedding that night. On my way to lunch, I heard Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" on the radio. Not knowing who was singing it, I fell in love with the song. I had a lovely lunch with my best friend and his mom, then came home and bought all of GaGa's music on iTunes. Off to the wedding I went.
School was to start back the next week, and the thought of going back was making me physically ill. I sang in the wedding, came home to an empty house because Jeremy was at a football game, and had a panic attack. I had been asking advice from my parents and talking over with Jeremy the idea of postponing school for a year since mom was getting sick. I still had no idea what to do, but started texting Jay to try to talk it out and calm myself down. I told him I was having a panic attack and freaking out and didn't know what to do, so he invited me to come to Birmingham to clear my mind and talk it over. Jeremy had my debit card, and it was 9pm so getting money from the bank was no option. I lied to my mom (I know... lying is bad.) - told her I needed a little cash so I could stay at the hospital with Mark, so she gave me $20, and I hit the interstate. I got several miles down the road and texted Jeremy to let him know where I was headed and what I was doing. He seemed like he tried to understand, but I knew he didn't.
So, I got to Birmingham and talked to Jay about all that was running through my mind about school- the pro's and con's of putting it off for a year, my reasons for putting it off, and what my options were. We went to the wedding the next day, and came back to Nashville on Sunday. I worked Monday night, and on Tuesday, I met with my advisors and they gave me the option of only taking a couple online classes so I could avoid taking a leave of absence in case mom got really sick and I was unable to still go back this fall. After my meeting with them, Jay and I went to the pool.
I started doing things I hadn't taken the time to do before, like make extravagant Halloween costumes, go dancing, make plans with friends, etc. I did things I wanted to do. I went to see Lady GaGa three times in concert, went to The Thomas House in Red Boiling Springs for a ghost tour, went to see Katy Perry in concert, went on the SICU winter and summer retreats, visited The Biltmore, saw Jay in Carmen at TPAC, saw a few other shows, got pedicures, manicures, and massages, and did a bunch of small, random things here and there. I've enjoyed the last year, except for losing my mom.
Now, it's again time to refocus. School starts back on Wednesday. My classes will now begin to be more tailored to my major, nurse-midwifery. I will have labs and clinicals and get to learn about how to actually be a midwife, which I'm pretty pumped about. However, I'm a little... ok, a lot... stressed about not being about to just go out and do whatever I want, whenever I want. Being an adult can suck sometimes.
This year, I have some plans for myself. I have only ever read two real books in my lifetime for pleasure, other than children's books. I'm currently reading The Help, and am waiting on Eat, Pray, Love, and Elizabeth Gilbert's next book, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage, to arrive. I have also ordered Lady GaGa's songs in sheet music and will bring my keyboard down from my parents house and try to teach myself how to play again. I figure if it's music I already love, it will go much better. I have also started counting calories, and hope to shed a few, hopefully many, pounds of flab.
I have some challenges ahead of me in the coming year as well. Besides having to refocus my time on school, I also have to make sure my dad is coping alright with the loss of his wife. And, now Grandmuz's cancer has come back, so we are in the process of learning what her options are.
I will have to say that I've learned a few things this year. I've learned first and foremost that no one is in charge of your happiness except yourself. If you want something, it's yours to go out there and get. No one is going to bring it to you on a platter, unless, of course, it's chicken. I've also learned a little bit more about what I want in life, and what I don't want... and am still developing these emotions/feelings/yearnings daily.
I've learned that if you truly love something, you have to let it go, and it may or may not come back to you, but you cannot wait for its decision... you must keep moving forward at all times. I've learned who I can trust, and that's God. Unfortunately, some of the people I trusted the most have hurt me the most this year, whether they know it or not, but that's just a part of being human. I don't hold grudges.
I said that the last year, specifically August 19, 2010- August 19, 2011, had changed me. Well, ironically, instead of hitting the interstate and beginning a journey like I did last year, I woke up on the 20th and learned that my year had ended with my face hitting the asphalt. Strangely enough, the jolt was enough to wake me up and teach me even more. But I digress....
My goals for this year are to keep doing what I know is important in life: love God, live passionately, and forget regret. I hope you'll join in these goals with me.
Lord, into the next year of adventure that we call life, deliver me.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
As Newborn Stars Were Stirred to Song
I heard this hymn for the first time tonight as I stood beside my best friend just before his baptism. It's the most beautiful hymn I've heard in a long while. Enjoy. :)
As Newborn Stars Were Stirred to Song
written by: John Karl Hirten
As newborn stars were stirred to song
when all things came to be,
as Miriam and Moses sang
when Israel was set free,
so music bursts unbidden forth
when God-filled hearts rejoice,
to waken awe and gratitude
and give mute faith a voice.
In psalms that raise the singer's sense
to universal truths,
in prophet's dark-toned oracle
or hymn of three brave youths:
the song of faith and praise endured
through those God called to be
a chosen people bearing light for
all the world to see.
When God's redeeming Word took flesh
to make salvation sure,
unheeding hearts attuned to strife
refused love's overture.
Yet to the end the song went on:
a supper's parting hymn,
a psalm intoned on dying lips
when sun and hope grew dim.
But silence won no vict'ry there;
a rest was all it scored
before glad alleluias rose
to greet the risen Lord.
The church still keeps that song alive,
for death has lost its sting,
and with the gift of life renewed
the heart will ever sing.
As Newborn Stars Were Stirred to Song
written by: John Karl Hirten
As newborn stars were stirred to song
when all things came to be,
as Miriam and Moses sang
when Israel was set free,
so music bursts unbidden forth
when God-filled hearts rejoice,
to waken awe and gratitude
and give mute faith a voice.
In psalms that raise the singer's sense
to universal truths,
in prophet's dark-toned oracle
or hymn of three brave youths:
the song of faith and praise endured
through those God called to be
a chosen people bearing light for
all the world to see.
When God's redeeming Word took flesh
to make salvation sure,
unheeding hearts attuned to strife
refused love's overture.
Yet to the end the song went on:
a supper's parting hymn,
a psalm intoned on dying lips
when sun and hope grew dim.
But silence won no vict'ry there;
a rest was all it scored
before glad alleluias rose
to greet the risen Lord.
The church still keeps that song alive,
for death has lost its sting,
and with the gift of life renewed
the heart will ever sing.
Monday, December 13, 2010
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel....
As I stood beside my best friend in church tonight before work and sang that beautiful hymn,
"O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here...
until the Son of God appear.... REJOICE! REJOICE!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel."
I was struck by the likeness of the lyrics to my present life situation.... "captive".... "mourns".... "lonely"....
but then, "REJOICE!"
Christ is coming back... not just at the end of mortal time, or the rapture, or whatever you believe will happen. Christ is coming back into my life right now, and at every moment, and making me stronger, more brave, more like HIM. And, for that, I am called to REJOICE.
"O Come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
and death's dark shadow put to flight.
REJOICE! REJOICE! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel."
Although it is at times extremely difficult, I am convicted that by me handing this situation over to the Lord, He is going to disperse the hate, jealousy, anger, envy, and every other negative emotion and put them to flight out of my life. Because I know He will do this, in some way, I will REJOICE!
Lord, from this terrifying situation, deliver me. I WILL REJOICE in You.
"O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here...
until the Son of God appear.... REJOICE! REJOICE!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel."
I was struck by the likeness of the lyrics to my present life situation.... "captive".... "mourns".... "lonely"....
but then, "REJOICE!"
Christ is coming back... not just at the end of mortal time, or the rapture, or whatever you believe will happen. Christ is coming back into my life right now, and at every moment, and making me stronger, more brave, more like HIM. And, for that, I am called to REJOICE.
"O Come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
and death's dark shadow put to flight.
REJOICE! REJOICE! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel."
Although it is at times extremely difficult, I am convicted that by me handing this situation over to the Lord, He is going to disperse the hate, jealousy, anger, envy, and every other negative emotion and put them to flight out of my life. Because I know He will do this, in some way, I will REJOICE!
Lord, from this terrifying situation, deliver me. I WILL REJOICE in You.
Monday, February 8, 2010
LIFE and a case of the "I wants"
I just want to have a life again. Is that too much to ask? I am SO tired... physically, emotionally, and spiritually crappy. I'm not who I once was and I will never be that person again. I just want to know who I WILL be... when I am done with all of this. I am constantly burdened by school, work, a messy house, etc. When will it end? My life is a vicious cycle of running from someplace to get someplace else. I wish I could just be happy where I am, but I'm full of "I wants"...
- I want to graduate.
- I want my house to be clean and spotless.
- I want a REAL HOUSE instead of this trailer I try everyday to make myself like.
- I want a baby when it's time, but I want it to be time now.
- I want to be in shape, but can't find time or motivation to exercise.
- I want to be a nice person, but can never seem to please anyone.
- I want to go to med school, but how in the world am I going to do that, and will it make me more miserable?
Oh, I could go farther with my list, but it's depressing me.
Jesus, come quickly, and get me out of here. This world is not my home.
Lord, from this self-diagnosis, deliver me.
- I want to graduate.
- I want my house to be clean and spotless.
- I want a REAL HOUSE instead of this trailer I try everyday to make myself like.
- I want a baby when it's time, but I want it to be time now.
- I want to be in shape, but can't find time or motivation to exercise.
- I want to be a nice person, but can never seem to please anyone.
- I want to go to med school, but how in the world am I going to do that, and will it make me more miserable?
Oh, I could go farther with my list, but it's depressing me.
Jesus, come quickly, and get me out of here. This world is not my home.
Lord, from this self-diagnosis, deliver me.
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