Stephanie

Cooper - Part 2

2012-02-16T20:42:00.002-05:00

Saturday January 7, 2012

3:00am

7cm dilated, 90% effaced, +1 station. I had been changing on my own this whole time, without pitocin, and he came all the way down to +1 by himself. I couldn’t sleep because of the loud oxygen, stupid blood pressure cuff, and his even louder heart beat. My mom and Jason nodded off a few times, though.

4:00am

Jason is starving and exhausted. I am starving and exhausted. He finds a Hot Pocket in the vending machine that he is sure is at least five years old. He eats it anyway, and subsequently has to use the restroom multiple times after that ;) It was either the Hot Pocket, or the nerves. It's the weekend in a military hospital, so of course, the refrigerator on the floor was empty with no hopes of getting a refill any time soon. Jason takes a trip down to the 4th floor, his alma mater, and steals me a red popsicle. I've never eaten a popsicle so fast in my life.

5:00am

10cm dilated, 100% effaced, still +1 station. We did a couple practice pushes, but she recommended that we wait another 2 hours so that he has time to drop more.

Meanwhile, I’m numb from the waist down, it feels like my legs have been asleep, and when I try to move, I can’t. I have to concentrate to move my legs. Hate.That.Feeling. I’ve been catheterized. Ugh.

7:00am

I’m getting antsy. I really want to start pushing, I want to have this baby. I know it’s shift change, and I’m trying so hard to be patient. They check again, and he’s still +1 station. I’m wondering if I didn’t have the epidural if he would’ve come down on his own because I would be able to move better, and maybe let gravity do it’s part. But I can’t worry about that now.

My day nurse says I don't need the oxygen anymore, or the pulse ox, thank goodness. She's my new best friend.

8:00am

Finally, the doctor comes in to check me, and he’s still at +1 station, but she says we can start pushing to see if he’ll come down. So it begins. My nurse was wonderfully patient. She was literally in my room almost all day long. When I was working, I remember getting so upset because when patients would fill out the satisfaction surveys, they would always remember their L&D nurses, but not their post partum nurses. Now I know why. Thankfully I was her only patient that day, and she was able to stay with me the whole time. We pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed. After about an hour, I was asking “How long does this take?? Why is there no baby?!” Apparently it takes a while. She said “Expect to be pushing for at least another hour.” Great. The things they don’t tell you...(and the things I should know already anyway)

10:00am

Two hours in to pushing. Still no baby. I can’t remember if he was still at +1 station or if I had pushed him down to +2 by then. Either way, there was still no baby. I was starving, and I really wanted to brush my teeth.

11:00am

The fun begins. The doctor comes in and gives me her speech about maybe requiring assistance to deliver this baby. I guess, by this point I knew this was coming. I had the mirror during pushing, and could tell I was using the right muscles to push, but I also knew that I wasn’t seeing a lot of his head either. She says, “We can give you another 30 minutes to try to get this baby down, but after that we’re going to have to talk about using another method.” At this point I know I’m going on 24 hours with ruptured membranes, and I was afraid of he and I getting an infection for that reason. I was trying to be practical - what could happen in the next 30 minutes that hadn’t happened in the past 3 hours? Probably not much. I asked everyones opinion, and we all agreed - assistance it was.

Shockingly, to me at least, they were going to use forceps. I was much more used to seeing vacuum assisted deliveries, and was certain that’s what they’d use. I had also seen some babies not fair very well at all due to vac assists, and I actually welcomed the forceps idea though many think it’s more out of date. I was actually a forceps delivery. She tells me about the risks, all of which I know about. My epidural starts wearing off..big time. I’m feeling everything, plus becoming more and more emotional about his need for forceps. I’m lying flat, and crying, which doesn’t help my breathing situation. Meanwhile, my mom is becoming more and more mommy like, and bossing my poor husband around. He takes it like a champ, and says nothing. I just want this baby out! I feel like I’m having a mini panic attack. I feel like a failure to this child, and just wanted to get him out all by myself like everyone else seems to be able to do. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t do it the natural way?

They explain to me that there will be a lot of people in the delivery room now, because of the forceps. They explain these things over and over and over again. I just wanted to scream “I KNOW - Just get on with it!” (with a few expletives) Of course, right before they start another doctor says “If this doesn’t work, we will have to go back for a C-Section.” Duh. But I did NOT want to hear that at that moment. I start welling up again, but have to talk myself down because I know I won’t be able to get through the delivery while sobbing uncontrollably. The anesthesiologist loaded my epidural, and I couldn’t feel anything for a long, long time - which ended up being a very good thing.

The doctor who delivered him was a resident I believe, so her superiors were also there coaching her along. I felt like a pumpkin being gutted at halloween. They literally lined up and had their hands in places I wish hands never went. One after the other. All confirming his position. Apparently his head was angled just a little too much. That's the only explanation I ever got. Then they put one forcep in, and more hands in to confirm that position, another forcep, and more hands to confirm position. Thank goodness I couldn’t see (or feel) what was happening. Jason said “for something so natural, it did not look natural at all.” But he was wonderful, and by my side (speechless) the whole time.

When she snapped the forceps together, I thought for sure she had cracked his skull. I was so mad that I had to have those things, and still feel guilty to this day that I did that to him. (He still has a scar on one cheek that I'm convinced will be there forever.) It was hard to focus with the 15 people in there yelling at me to push or not to push. They said I’d have to push really hard in order to get him out, and I tried my hardest. Jason said her hands were shaking because she was pulling so hard (the doctor). I think the forceps came off as he was crowning, and I pushed him out all by myself after that.

My belly instantly felt like jelly, which was really weird. Our baby was out! He was pretty blue. She had his head in her hands, and his body over her arm. His limbs were hanging, and he looked completely limp. I should know that this is pretty normal, but like they all say, when it’s your own, it’s different. First of all, I couldn’t believe he was ours, that that human grew inside of me, and second of all he wasn’t crying. They took him to the warmer first (as they told me they would since he was now an assisted delivery), and Jason followed. I heard him cry, and then it hit me that this really was our child, and now it was real. A very surreal feeling.

They held him up from the warmer “Look Mom, he’s so cute!” Only I didn’t think so. His right eye was swollen shut, and already bruised. He had very distinct forceps marks and abrasions on both of his cheeks, and his left ear was really bruised. He had the typical little old man look that most little boys have at birth, and a nice little cone head. I felt terrible. His APGARs were 7/9 so it must not have been as long as I thought it was before he started crying. He weighed 7 pounds 11 ounces, which is just what his mommy weighed at birth.

Finally I got to hold him, our stunned little boy. It was all very surreal, and sometimes still is. He remained nameless until we had to fill out the birth certificate paper work. When I still couldn’t decide, Jason took the reigns and decided on Cooper Graham. Who didn’t see that coming?

Our first few days in the hospital, and as a family are now a blur. When we were discharged, we took him downstairs and showed him off briefly to his physical and occupational therapists, and then walked back home to glorious building 62. Where I've always wanted to bring a baby 'home' to! He didn't actually get his first car ride until he was about a week and a half old. But, Cooper Graham will certainly teach me a lot of things as he grows, and I can't wait to see how wonderful it will be!

6 months

2012-02-13T14:52:00.000-05:00

Parenting still amazes me. There are so many surprises! Like, five weeks later, breastfeeding is still so painful. In the beginning, I was just focused on survival, and making sure my baby survived. Now, I just want to feel normal again. I thought the pain was on its way out a few weeks ago. And then I got a blister on one side. Now, both breasts are just killer all.the.time.

By the way, if you haven't figured this out already, this will probably be another TMI post :)

I've been to the Lactation Consultant who is also a Pediatrician, about 5 times in the past two weeks. I'm pretty sure she hates me, and whoever invented the internet - because I've diagnosed myself multiple times over these past painful weeks. I sound like a mental patient every time I see her, asking questions I should already know the answers to, and asking the same thing in about eight different ways.

Right after he was born, everyone kept saying 'it shouldn't hurt' and 'just get past the first two weeks'...well here I am at week five...and every time he latches, I taste blood it hurts so bad. I'm not even kidding. Then I think, is this normal? Is it supposed to feel like this and I'm just a huge wimp about it? Going anywhere in this cold weather is miserable - when already sore/cracked/bleeding/blistered nipples get cold, they still get hard...and holy cow, that hurts. So does getting out of the shower. Drying off. Anything touching them hurts. I dread feeding my baby, and I hate that I feel that way.

Last week, she mentioned that he could be slightly tongue tied. I didn't want to jump in to anything, and didn't want to put him through any unnecessary procedures if I wasn't sure it would work. But over the weekend, as the pain got worse and worse even though the blisters and cracks were almost healed, I decided we should try it. So today, he got a frenotomy. Not a big deal, and I've actually seen them done before where I worked. He fed right after, and I still felt pain, but I'm hoping over the next few days, it will get better as he relearns how to use his newfound tongue freedom. I pray it will get better. And I'm not the praying type of person. I want to be able to enjoy breastfeeding so bad, like everyone else seems to do. I don't want it to be so much of an ordeal every time I need to feed him. And I want to be able to feed him in public without making a grimace face and not being able to speak until it somewhat subsides.

I'm also faced with a new challenge of getting dressed. It seems, with breastfeeding, you can't really wear anything you want anymore. So it's a lot of nursing tank tops and sweaters. Probably another reason we don't go very many places anymore. Or maybe this is just another one of those things I think is a big deal, that looking back in a few months, I'll scoff at myself for being so dramatic. Ha.

So that's the main thing we've been dealing with over here. That, and what I think is normal growing pains to any new family. Jason and I both are very sensitive, and sometimes we both feel like the other person isn't doing anything to help out around the house or with the baby. When it comes to that kind of stuff, I think we just both need to grow up. But since we don't really do anything else, there's not much else to get mad about. Now, when we go back home, and he starts having full work days again, and I'm at home all day, I can see another argument brewing there. Which brings me to my next dilemma of whether or not I should return to work full time, part time, or not at all. I don't know if I'll be able to leave my baby for that long, but I also don't know what I'll do with myself staying home all day. I'm sure I'll be able to stay busy, but I'm not sure if it will be a good kind of staying busy. And by that I mean I'll probably do a lot of shopping and not enough working out kind of busy :)

In other news, Jasons mom is arriving in town this weekend from London, so we're excited to see her, and for that nice change of pace. Jason is supposed to be recognized at the high school we both graduated from, this Friday. The drama club is putting on a play, and apparently all the proceeds will be donated to the Wounded Warrior Project. My mom, who is wonderfully social, and still working in the school system even though she's been retired for 8 years, made sure to tell the drama teacher that there was a wounded warrior who graduated from King George. She of course didn't know this, because Jason hates to put himself out there, so no one in the county really knows, other than our family and family friends. So now he's been voluntold (an army term) to be recognized at one of their performances. They really want him to wear his uniform, and he is so not excited about that. He feels very uncomfortable in the spotlight, and does not want peoples sympathy. I wrote up a little bio about him, and his journey in the Army, but I haven't decided if I will read it, or if I will have my mother - the social butterfly, and puppeteer - read it instead.

His recovery is all but finished. We've sent out every pair of long pants he has (here) to be altered with zippers in the right pant leg. He only goes to occupational therapy three times a week now. Still waiting on final shrinking, and while he's up to 7 ply in socks, his leg is still very painful. It wasn't like this with the second socket, so I'm a little worried that too much pressure is being put on his shin bone which is fairly prominent now that his nub has shrunk so much. He takes his leg off pretty much any time he's sitting down for more than five minutes, and then it swells, and hurts even more when he goes to stand up on it again. I hope it gets better soon so he can get his carbon fiber socket. Everything is still a go to leave towards the end of March. I want to have a banner made and have someone hang it outside of our house before we get back in to town. Last summer, when I would walk Sadie through our neighborhood, another unit had just returned, and there were banners on what seemed like every other house welcoming their husband or daddy home. I think it will be nice to do this for him since I was planning to do it anyway. I just have to figure out the logistics of getting it mailed out there and putting it up before we get back.

And of course, today is the 6 month mark of Jason's injury. "Half a year...geez" as he put it earlier today. But, if you think of all we've overcome, endured, and gotten through in the past half a year, it's really quite astonishing. And sometimes scary; I hope future years are slightly less eventful. We're so looking forward to the next half a year, though :)

Cooper - Part 1

2012-02-12T13:51:00.006-05:00

Friday January 6, 2012 - 12:00pm

I don’t think I should have to warn you that this will be a very personal, and at times, graphic entry. I will heed this warning anyway for those who don’t understand quite how detailed I tend to get, and how graphic the process of birth is. So stop reading now if you can’t handle this kind of thing :)

Jason and I started the day off with a shower. Already TMI, I know. This is something we used to do in Colorado. People thought we were weird and crazy I guess, saying their shower was the only alone time they got all day. For us, it was a way to bond, and talk about the day since we were both working long hours. Anyway, since his injury, we can rarely do this anymore. He requires a shower chair, and that usually takes up the whole shower. Here, in lovely Building 62, the showers are handicapped accessible, and so we have enough room to share this moment. On this day, we slept in, and finally got in the shower around 11:30. I sat down to shave my legs. I was preparing for the delivery. I mean my due date was the next day, and everyone knows, babies come right on schedule! I refused to go in to labor with hairy legs. Anyway, I sat down, and started shaving. I felt a warm gush, but not a huge or powerful gush. Remember, we’re in the shower, so I couldn’t tell if that’s what it was or not. Not to mention, I’ve never had water to be broken before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I felt a couple more small warm gushes, and decided I was pretty sure it was my water. Thankfully, it was clear. Now Jason is starting to get a little freaked out, though.

I wasn’t feeling any pain whatsoever, and so we decided to go upstairs for lunch. One of the regular cashiers was shocked I still hadn’t had this baby yet, and was convinced it was twins (thanks lady!). I didn’t feel like going in to details with her that I was probably in labor at that moment, so I just laughed and continued on. I ate pasta with alfredo sauce, all the while thinking, “man I really hope I don’t throw this up later.” We went back downstairs to our room, and Jason went out to buy a “surprise” for me for after the delivery. He debated on whether or not to even go, but I still wasn’t feeling anything, so of course I insisted. He came back not too much later, empty handed - I think he was afraid to be gone too long. I was gchatting with a friend, and googling, trying to figure out if my water really was broken. She of course told me to go to the hospital to be checked. I refused.

Finally around 2pm, I started feeling some cramping. More like menstrual cramps. I guess I was expecting to be feeling pain at the top of my uterus, and feel it contract. I never really felt that. The cramping would come and go, and we decided to start timing them. They were very sporadic, some were really close, and others weren’t. We watched Gattaca, and it brought me back to my high school days :) If I laid on my side, I felt better, and didn’t want to move for fear of making them feel worse. Walking helped too. The contractions never really got that bad, but finally around 9pm I knew I had to go in because I was ruptured. And by go in, I mean walk.

I had been in touch with Mom all day, and she and Dad came up by dinner time. Jason, Mom and Dad went upstairs to eat dinner, and I stayed in the room not feeling hungry. I decided later, that was a bad idea, because I was starving. Anyway, by 9pm, we packed up our stuff and walked over to the hospital. They tried to get me in a wheelchair, but I refused, knowing walking would be good for me. I have to say, arriving at the front desk and saying “I think I’m in labor.” felt very weird. Not words I ever thought I’d say. They put me in a triage room, and hooked me up to the monitor. I could tell my contractions weren’t picking up on the monitor because I wasn’t feeling them high in my uterus where they had the monitor placed. At that point I thought maybe they’d send be back home.

The doctor came in and did an internal exam to see whether or not my water had broken, and how dilated I was. (the previous day at my doctors appointment I was already at 3cm.) As he was checking me, it became clear to him and everyone else in the room that I was in fact, ruptured, if you get my drift. Their little paper test took no time changing color. And he decided I was 4-5cm dilated, 80% effaced, -1 station, and that I would have to be admitted. Crap.

Now, I did have an idea of what I wanted during the labor process. All of which got quickly squashed. She came in with a bag of fluid and an IV to start. I was ok with the IV, but I just wanted it saline locked. No, she said, “because what if your baby starts doing something crazy”. Oh, ok, I’m not sure what that is, but ok, fine give me the fluids. I was trying so hard not to be that crazy patient with the birth plan, but I just think we have so many unnecessary interventions these days for something that was meant to be done naturally. The doctor came in to go over consent forms. I asked if it was possible that I could only be monitored intermittently, that I really liked to be able to walk around because of the contractions, and that I wasn’t planning to have an epidural. But because I was ruptured, “No, you can’t do intermittent monitoring, no you can’t walk, and if you don’t want an epidural, that’s fine.” I knew my contractions hadn’t been picking up on the monitor, so I asked if they were going to use Pitocin - “Yes, you’re not contracting enough, and if you don’t make any change on your own, we’ll have to use pitocin. Usually if you don’t change in 2 hours, we start pitocin, your water has already been broken for 9 hours. If you want, we can wait 2 hours and check you again to see if you make any change on your own.” I thought I had already done a damn good job being at 5cm and just going in to triage, but I guess I’m the niave patient now. “What scares you about using pitocin?” she asks. I said, “It doesn’t scare me, I just think it’s unnecessary.” It could’ve been me being entirely too sensitive which I’m known for, but her tone of voice really rubbed me the wrong way when she responded with “Well, normally we would have used it by now seeing as you’ve been ruptured for a prolonged period of time, the longer you’re ruptured, the more at risk your baby is for infection, and he could die.”

Really? I am not stupid. But she just had to throw that in there as a scare/guilt tactic. Like, if you don’t agree to this, I am going to question your morals and ability to be a sound mother for this child. Ok, maybe that was me being insanely sensitive, but that’s how I heard it.

She said, “By all means, you can go back home and continue to labor, but you have to sign out AMA” (against medical advice). Only from working where I do, I know that if I did that, and then went back to the hospital, Tricare (our insurance) wouldn’t cover anything. At this point, I was just so irritated I signed the paper and decided it was not the end of the world.

Before I even left the triage room, I was feeling defeated. Jason kept trying to reassure me that everything would work out. “In the end we’re going to walk out of here with the same result.” I know, but not the way I wanted it. Really, Stephanie? You should know by now not to want things a certain way!

10:30pm

We walked to the labor room, and again, I was hooked up to the monitors. I knew I would hate that. I always said I don’t know how women tolerate those things while in labor. It was so uncomfortable to have things tightly strapped to my belly as I was in pain. All I wanted to do was sit up, walk around, or even move around in bed. But every time I moved, the monitor would lose his heart rate tracing. The nurse was in and out readjusting it because I kept moving. I wasn’t even in there for 30 minutes when she came in and said “Ok, I think we’re going to have to do an internal monitor for his heart rate.” I knew what that meant, and I really didn’t want that. Now that I think back though, I wonder if it would’ve saved a lot of pain and heartache in the long run. There’s no way to know now.

11:30pm

After about 30 minutes of deliberation, I decided that if they were going to have to use Pitocin, I would not be able to sit still at all. I knew it would make my contractions longer and stronger. I also knew I did not want an internal monitor in his scalp even though I’ve seen babies that have had them, and you can barely tell. Something about those has just always freaked me out. So, I quickly turned in to a statistic. Something I was so worried about doing, and knew they were all talking about me at the nurses station, but what can you do I guess. I went in there not wanting an epidural, and within about 3 hours, got an epidural. The pain wasn’t unbearable at that point either, but I just knew I couldn’t sit still. For some reason, I had 3 contractions right on top of each other during the epidural, and about 15 minutes after getting the epidural, the nurse came in to move me from side to side, something I also know isn’t good. When she handed me the oxygen mask I really knew we were in some sort of trouble. They put me on my hands and knees and about 3 other people came in. Jason didn’t know what was going on, but I did. They all stood there for a while, and I’m just thinking “Ok, great, now they’re going to tell me I have to go back for an emergency c-section because his heart rate isn’t coming back up.” Apparently he had a low baseline anyway, and he was dropping in to the 90s, but his baseline had been in the 115s so they weren’t as concerned. They gave me terbutaline to relax my uterus, because the 3 contractions in a row didn’t leave enough time for him to get oxygenated blood, plus my blood pressure had dropped a little. So here I am on my hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably, with a stupid oxygen mask in my face blowing so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. After what seemed like forever, they decided he was ok. My uterus should start contracting on its own again after a little while, but I dared not move for fear of making his heart rate drop again.

Baby's First Month

2012-02-06T17:34:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow our sweet baby boy will be a month old! Where does the time go? When you're enjoying life, it goes way too fast. Right now he's curled up on my chest while I write this. I don't know if he'll be small enough to do this next month. I think we're going to have to retire some of his newborn outfits soon. He's outgrowing them by length - sad day. We're officially in size one diapers instead of the teeny tiny little newborn ones. We started co-sleeping because it was easier for me, but it made for very poor sleep. We have a very noisy little boy, and he loves to be vocal in his sleep. He grunts and squirms all over the place. We're pretty sure he has his days and nights mixed up, which they say is normal for newborns, but we're over it.

We were just at home this past weekend, so he slept in the port-a-crib, and did fairly well. We decided we'd try to give up the co sleeping, and he did really well last night back here in his own port-a-crib. I caved and bought one of those swaddle blankets with the velcro. All this time I thought "I swaddled babies all day long, I don't need one of those silly gimmicks." Ha. It really works better. Hospital swaddling, I'm convinced, only works while they're in the hospital. They're so tiny, and tired, they don't really bust out of it. But at home, it's a different story. I don't think he enjoys having his hands down, but then they're out, he startles himself and wakes up. We're thinking we might get him a noise machine too, because the co sleeper had one in it, and he seemed to enjoy it. Of course, he sleeps the best in anyones arms.

The breastfeeding is getting better, but is still initially painful. It's amazing the difference in my outlook just from the last time I posted. Then, I felt like I was drowning, and I'd never see the light of day again. Now, it really is not that serious. The time between feedings really isn't any different than it was before, but it's not as big of a production as it used to be. I've tried to feed him about every 3 hours during the day, and at night, I let him sleep as long as he will. Once the initial hype wore off of making sure he was gaining weight, the lactation consultant said I could pretty much just feed on demand. I'm trying not to focus as much on the clock, but I still don't feel like I can not time his feedings. Going out is not near as big a deal as I initially thought it was. I do still have to sit in the car and feed him, but most of the time when we go out, we're going to friends houses, and none of them mind seeing my boobs - and I honestly probably wouldn't care if they did mind :)

The birth story is still on my desk top. I haven't edited it or re read it for that matter. I'll probably post it, maybe in parts, because it's long winded.

Jason is doing well, still in his third socket - I'm not sure if I mentioned that last time. It seems like this one has been more painful for him, and for longer, unfortunately. He's hoping to get his carbon fiber socket ordered this week and then he'll be able to start running! We're still aiming for an end of March return :)

People ask me how it feels to be a mom - and I always tell them I don't feel like one. I still feel like a robot and a cow. Just sleep, feed, change, repeat.

These next couple of weekends will be pretty busy as we (hopefully) wrap things up here on the East Coast. Jason's mom is coming in to see the baby in about two weeks and our nephew is turning one that same weekend. He will be baptized the following weekend, and then we're hoping to have a 'Meet Cooper' party so everyone can see him before we go and we don't feel like every time we come home, we have to go introduce the baby to someone new.

I am going to miss being this close to all my friends and family, but I'm ready to get back to our house and our things and start a new routine and figure out things for ourselves. I can't believe how much of parenting is guessing. I am not the guessing type of person. I am more of a second guessing type of person. So, everything I do, I still second guess or 'what if' to death. I hate that you literally have to figure this all out as you go! Apparently I think about these things entirely too much.

And so now, our days consist of sleep, eat, change, repeat. Jason goes to physical therapy and occupational therapy by himself, and Cooper and I spend time sleeping some more and then feeding and watching The Price is Right. Daddy comes home and we go upstairs for lunch. Every day is touch and go on whether or not C will stay asleep so Mommy and Daddy can eat their lunch. Get used to it, right? Usually about 30 minutes after lunch, we're thinking about what we should eat for dinner. Mondays are pretty boring, but Tuesday nights there's Teen Mom 2, Wednesday is American Idol, Thursday is American Idol and Grey's Anatomy, and for the weekends there are usually good movies on. If there aren't, we go find a Redbox. And that is how we spend our days.

I'm off to address birth announcements :)

What I wasn't told...

2012-01-25T12:58:00.003-05:00

I'm not gonna lie, I've missed blogging. I didn't do it all that often, and my posts were getting further and further apart, but I've been walking around (more like sitting around) thinking about all the things I need to blog about, and how unorganized it will likely be.

Let's see, I guess it's only been about 3 weeks or so since that last post, but it feels like a million years ago. We've had our baby boy, and checked month five off our list in those few weeks. I have my birth story written out, a rough draft at least. I can't decide how I will post it, or if I will, because my writing is usually pretty detailed, and I don't know if the whole world wants or needs to read all about his arrival. The important thing is that he's here, and healthy.

Last night Jason and I were talking about our return to Colorado. He's becoming more anxious to leave here, and feels defeated a lot at therapy because he's letting other peoples comments get to him. I haven't gone with him since he started back off of leave, which has been hard for me because I really feel like I have no purpose here. He comes back and tells me who pissed him off that day because of their comments. He's never usually this sensitive to things like that, so I think he's getting really tired of this place, and just feels so done with it all. People usually are just giving him a hard time, saying things like "Come on man, why are you going so slow?" He tries to explain that he's exhausted, that his baby does not like to sleep at night, and he keeps dropping that weight because he can only hold it with the two good fingers on his left hand. I hate to see him this discouraged, and try to remind him daily how great of a job he's doing in his recovery. His occupational therapist told him that if he really does leave by the end of March, he will have set a record in getting out of here. If he does, I'm going to make them put his picture on the wall :) Anyway, I was telling him that now, after 5 months (only 5 months!), this is starting to feel normal, and I'm worried that I'll feel out of place (again) when we move back. I'm just at such a weird place in my life, a place I never, ever expected to be in to begin with. I'm not working, haven't been working, and don't know if I'll be able to go back to work since I only want to go back part time. He'll go back to work, and might be working full days again, and that will be weird for me, although baby will be older, and hopefully be taking it a little easier on Mommy.

I can't tell you how often I think of how blessed I am to have my husband home with me - literally full time. I wonder if all this was in someones bigger plan - they knew I wouldn't be able to handle the emotions and demands that come with motherhood all by myself, and so they allowed my husband to be here with me 24/7 for the first 3+ months of his life. How blessed am I? Who else can say that? Someone knew I needed to be slowly broken in to this new life!

Which brings me to my next paragraph - Motherhood.

Holy Moly - no one prepared me for this. A few days after we got home, I told Jason we should sue someone for not telling us it was going to be like this. I mean if people can sue McDonald's for making them fat, we should be able to find someone to sue for becoming parents before we knew what it was all about.

All my life I have wanted to be a mommy. I've spent so many years babysitting and helping with other peoples children, all the while making mental notes of what I'd never do when I became a mom. I've already done about half of those things. Now I struggle daily with breastfeeding, the demands of being a mom, whether or not I'm doing things the 'right' way, wondering if I passed my strabismus on to my precious little boy, hoping so hard I did not so that he won't have to wear glasses all his life and possibly have surgery like his Mommy did, hoping that by cosleeping right now, we won't be hurting his ability to sleep in his own bed in the future, wondering if giving him a pacifier or bottle will ruin him, letting his sleep on his tummy almost all the time, using Johnsons & Johnsons baby soap (gasp!), hoping the marks left by the forceps will not scar - a constant reminder that I could not get this baby out on my own, and the trauma I put him through...these are just a few of my daily thoughts.

No one prepares you for this life of constant worry - Jason asked the pediatrician "So are we just going to worry about everything for the next 18 years?" She had a very sad look on her face when she shook her head yes. Like a "You're just now figuring out what parenthood entails?" look. Everyone preaches it when you talk about having baby fever - "Don't do it yet, enjoy your life while you can. Your life won't be your own anymore." And while I took all this in to account, we still went ahead and got pregnant. We often compared parenthood to being dog parents - thinking it couldn't be any worse - you actually have to get up and go downstairs to let the dog out every time - with a baby, at least they sleep upstairs with you! This was really the only comparison we could make of the two. If only I could go back to a life of up and down stairs to let the dog out at night instead of being awake for 2 hours and asleep for one while your husband peacefully sleeps next to you - I might.

Don't get me wrong, I love my baby boy. I can't say that I love being a mother right now, because I don't feel like one yet. I feel like a cow - as a friend of mine once described breastfeeding. The first couple of days home, I think I was in shock of how much had changed in such a short amount of time. My whole day revolves around feeding and changing this little one. To think about going out somewhere is just that - a thought. We did go to Target one day after I couldn't stand sitting in this apartment any longer. As soon as we got there, we sat in the parking lot and I breastfeed for about 45 minutes. We loaded up and went in, only to find that he was still hungry. The one time in the day he decided he wanted to eat from both sides was the precise time Mommy wanted to wander the aisles of Target. Those days are gone. I can't tell you how unsatisfied I feel when I go in to Target and can't walk through every single aisle there. You just don't know what you're missing if you go in and only get what you need. Who does that!? (My husband.) Such is life as a mommy - a harsh reality for this only child. So we sped through the grocery aisles and got only the things on our list, and went back to the car for another 45 minutes of breastfeeding.

Breastfeeding is not easy. And it hurts. No matter what those lactation people tell you - it freaking hurts. I used to tell my patients that all the time anyway - I couldn't imagine how it wasn't supposed to hurt. Those things aren't used to being sucked on every 2 hours for at least 30 minutes at a time, it's going to hurt in the beginning. After my labor/delivery/postpartum experience, I feel like I was such an un-empathetic (I don't know if that's a word) nurse to those poor ladies. Now I know why they had to be reminded or encouraged to feed their babies - that sounds bad - but when you are so sore you cringe at the thought of feeding your little one, you put it off as long as you can. The first few days were fine for us, he fed great right from the start despite his rough entry. Then of course, the day we went home, he decided to stop feeding well. That was also the day I decided to give him a pacifier - something I will not encourage my patients to do if I ever go back to work. I think it really messed him up, plus my milk hadn't come in. We put the paci away after that, and only recently reintroduced it. In the mean time he was so angry with me, and getting hungry. He couldn't be sitting alone without screaming, and I was convinced I was starving my baby. He lost too much weight, and I came so close to supplementing with formula, but I'm so glad I held out. I used to get so upset with patients when they refused to supplement their babies "It's just a little formula, it's not going to hurt them" I would think. And here I was, doing the same damn thing. In the weeks since, he's regained his weight, and went from 7-11 at birth, to 6-11 four days later, and then to 8-10 at two weeks. I am pleased with his weight gain, but still struggle with the pain. It's not as bad as it was, and I think it might be on its way out, but my toes still curl every time he latches on.

And let me make a point to tell you that my husband has been absolutely divine in helping me care for this baby. He has been so comfortable and natural with him since day one. Changing diapers like it's his job. Even the poopie ones. Our child has inherited his fathers flatulence, and he thinks it's hilarious every time. It's hard for me not to laugh when he laughs at his son pooting all the time, because it is rather funny. For now. He loves to give the baths, and he always offers to burp him after I'm done feeding. I usually take over the night time changes, only because of his leg situation. It's just silly for me to sit there and wait for him to put his leg on, get up, change the diaper, and then he gives him back to me so I can feed him. I might as well just do it myself. I say this, but it's still hard to be okay with it at 3am while he looks so warm and cozy under the covers!

So far, Motherhood seems to be me figuring out all these things that people do not tell you! Everything that goes wrong with him I feel personally responsible for. And then I look at him sleeping (on his belly!) next to me (in bed!) so peacefully I have to stop and make sure he's still breathing. So, I figure I can't be doing everything wrong.

Pants

2012-01-05T22:28:00.002-05:00

It's a two post kind of day...that's how uneventful our lives are...at the moment.

I feel like I need to write another one because the last one left so many people way too excited! That was certainly not my intention, although we are both still really excited :) The doctor did mention that my membranes would likely rupture soon. Jason proceeded to look at his imaginary watch and say "Uh, like can you give me a time frame?"

I am not in active labor. I may be having a little back labor, and every now and then I feel a few contractions in my uterus, though neither are painful to say the least. Just slightly uncomfortable. I didn't realize that by telling people I was 3cm dilated and effaced, it would cause such a stir! I forget that this isn't normal for everyone, and just the word 'dilated' equals hospitalization to some.

Jason wore jeans today for the first time in a long time. He hasn't been able to because he usually has to add or take off a sock from his prosthetic. He can't access his leg when wearing jeans because they don't pull up high enough. We need to get them all altered. The pair he had altered are too small at the moment. He was wishfully thinking when sending them off...we bought two more pairs that will fit him so hopefully we can get them altered soon. Anyway, this is a big deal. He was starting to get stares in public, maybe because of the leg, or maybe because it's 30 degrees outside and he's wearing shorts and boat shoe sandals. All the layers that come with his prosthetic make him really hot too. But, since he's finally off all his medications, some of the sweating has subsided. It was nice to see him in pants. He looked handsome :) I mention this because the doctor had to ask at my appointment which one of us was military. Because he looked normal. Although now that I think about it, it could've been because my husband has grown quite the beard while being on con leave...either way...he looked normal. His fingers look a little mangled, but no one notices that anymore really.

All my nursing school friends came to visit tonight, equipped with dinner. I just hope I don't wake up in the middle of the night and throw any of it up. I really hate throwing up. I'm so lucky to have so many friends close by, even in our situation. At this point, I can't imagine being back in Colorado. If we were living in an ideal world, Jason would've been home on leave by now, and we'd still be sitting and waiting for baby. Mom and Dad probably would have flown out to be with me for a while too. Of course I'd have all my Colorado friends, but I wouldn't have all my wonderful Nursing School, "First Degree", and High School friends anywhere near me. It's truly amazing the silver lining that comes out of some situations. We got to spend another Christmas together, and at home with both of our families. We're going to get to spend some quality time with our families after the baby comes which will be wonderful. When you're in a military family, you feel like you always have to go visit everyone else, because you're the exception for living so far away. Now that we're here, it's actually feasible that people can come visit us!

Anyway, I wanted to write again because I want to remind myself of all the things we have to be grateful for. I remember a time, way back when Jason came to an appointment with me (while he was still inpatient) and they were worried about my cervix shortening too much too fast. We thought for certain I would deliver early, and I was convinced they'd put me on bed rest. I missed the GDM diagnosis by one point. Not necessarily a good thing, but considering my diet, I'm very, very lucky. I've only gained ~35lbs to date, and again, considering my diet, I'm very, very lucky. Now here I am, two days from my due date, already dilated to 3 when they told me it may be a very long labor for me, and I may not dilate for a long time. Jason has been out of the hospital for about three months, and is already off every single medication except the blood pressure one which was what he was on when he left. He's already got a prescription for a running leg, and will get a carbon fiber socket and every leg you can imagine when he comes off leave. He's signed up for the Tough Mudder in June in Colorado with all his battle buddies, and I'm very confident he'll do great. We just have to figure out which leg he'll use, and he'll probably need to splint the one finger.

I mean, really? You go from stepping on a land mine almost five months ago, and now we're thinking about the Tough Mudder (a 10 mile long obstacle course with 25 obstacles), a new baby, and going back home. Our lives were turned upside down, and we still think about the fact that they will never be the same, but we're so used to it now. We're used to the shower chair in the bathroom, and the crutches he'll always need to get in and out of the shower. The random nerve pains are still normal at night, and when he stretches the normal morning stretch, his right leg shakes uncontrollably because there's no real way to stretch that muscle anymore. I'm trying to make cocoa butter a part of his normal routine for all his scars, although I feel too much like a mother when I do that, but hell if I let these skin grafts get ruined. When he plays video games he takes his leg off, and has to prop it up on another chair because if he leaves it dangling off the chair too much, it starts hurting.

He is the exception. He is the one who brought us this far. His motivation is amazing, and he gets so tired sometimes, and so overwhelmed, but he always pushes through.

There is talk about cutting the military. Talk about scary. He always says he'd be one of the first to get cut if they do decide that. That scares me. I guess I can't worry about that now. And, if worse comes to worse, I should be thankful that I can always, always go back to work. I am just so grateful for him, and for us. We've grown so much closer through all of this. I know that even by writing these for everyone to read and follow, no one will truly understand what we've been through unless they've been through it themselves. But maybe there will be a few extra things those who read this will think about that they otherwise wouldn't have. To think about all those fights I put up about getting PCS'd here, and making sure our stuff got out here. How silly was I! So many things I was trying to control in this situation where we could have none. I just hope I can look forward more in the future, so that I won't be so uptight when dealing with uncontrollable situations. (I get this from my mother.)

And back to the baby, my wonderful friend wrote up a birth plan for us (we told her what to write, she loves writing lists :)) but we called it our birth 'wish list' as I do agree, birth plans are bad luck. And not to mention, they always piss the nurses off. "Oh great, she has a birth plan. Ugh, she's one of them." I'm guilty. I hated when parents wanted to follow me with their baby while I took him or her at midnight to do their assessment and night time stuff. I will likely do the same thing. Ha. In our case, we are not ignorant, and so therefore, I guess we cannot be blissful! I don't intend on waving it around for all to see, but if there's ever a point when I cannot speak, and Jason doesn't know what to tell them, he can at least show them that.

One last cute dad-to-be saying...while walking to the grocery store, I'm explaining that when we finally do decided to go to the hospital, we only need the bags, we don't need to bring the stroller/car seat right away. (Yes, we're bringing the stroller because we're literally walking to the hospital, and will walk back here to our 'apartment' upon discharge.) So I tell him that he probably doesn't need to get that until they move me to my postpartum room and then if he wants he can come back and shower and get it then.

Him: "But, where will the baby be if I leave to come back here?"

Me: "Probably in the room with me."

Him: "What if it's the middle of the night? What if you're sleeping?"

Me: "So?"

Him: "Who will watch the baby?"

Me: "Well he'll be in the room with me, probably asleep too..."

Him: "Well in the Army they teach us that when you guard something you have to stay awake to do it!"

Me: "You're going to be very tired then!"

I just love new dads. They're so cute. Especially my handsome husband!

Oh, Baby...

2012-01-05T12:29:00.004-05:00

Disclaimer: This post is very personal and slightly graphic :)

I'm writing now, because I think this little boy is coming soon. Very soon. I'm not in active labor at the moment, but I did have a doctors appointment today. I am 3cm dilated and 80% effaced. TMI: I think he stirred something up in there, because when I went to the bathroom before preparing to write this blog, I noticed a little ahem something in the toilet.

Even being a nurse that works in this field, I have no idea what to expect. Everyone has such different pregnancies. At this point, I'm not worried since we're two days away from the due date. The tech took my vitals today, and then came back and said "He wants to know if you've scheduled your induction." Uh, no. Why do people think that I want to be induced?! He was convinced we'd have to schedule one, until he checked me and found that I was already 3cm. He then went on to say that I was lucky, that it can take some people days to get as far as I am, in active labor. So, happy about that, but when is he coming?? Do we have time to go to the grocery store? I'm not contracting, and I'm not in any pain. I think the uncomfortableness I've been feeling in my pelivs is his head coming down. I guess I was expecting a different kind of pressure. When I walk it feels like my hips are going to come out of their sockets, and I can't lay with my legs bent like I used to, I think the ligaments are stretching.

I don't want to call anyone because I don't want them to tell me to go in to the hospital. I'm not contracting, and they'd likely want to give me pitocin. My water hasn't broken, and nothing is bright red and gushing, so I think for now I'll just monitor it and play it by ear. Nurses make the worst patients.

Jason on the other hand, is freaking out a tad. He thinks this process is "stupid". "What do we do? Just sit here and..." (he proceeds to sit down and twiddle his thumbs). "Is it going to be 3 hours from now? 3 days from now? Can we still go grocery shopping?!" We googled pictures of bloody show and the mucus plug, he almost puked. I hope that's not an indicator of his role in the delivery room. I'm pretty sure he'll be great, but you just never know. I just can't believe teenagers can do this!

I did have a nightmare last night that I had to have a C-Section, and I was super depressed afterwards. Let's just hope that doesn't have to happen.

Our bags are packed, camera battery is charged, we have a list of who to call when we go, and all his stuff has been set up for a while. I'm contemplating writing a birth plan, although I can't call it that because I think it's bad luck. I just don't know what condition I'll be in when I get to the hospital, so if I can't speak words, I'd want them to know what we want to do. Don't worry, we don't have any crazy requests, but I'm sure we'll still piss someone off for wanting to do it a different way :) It's a good thing we came back up here when we did, though.

So, I will probably not blog for a little while. And when I do, I'll probably put my birth story on here. It will likely be graphic and very personal, so if you don't want to know all the details about birth, I'll warn you now, not to read it!

I think we're off to the grocery store, because if we don't go now, and I go in to labor, I know I'm going to be mad that we didn't go sooner. And maybe it will make me go in to labor :) We'll see...

Withdrawals

2011-12-28T22:15:00.003-05:00

Unfortunately, it seems that every time we come home for any period of time, something goes wrong. I'm so tired of something going wrong! I just want him to feel good, and healthy for once. He has been weaning off all his medications pretty much since he was discharged. Finally, he was down to the last one right before we came home. It's an anti depressant that they give to these guys at night to help them with sleep and nerve pain. It kind of leaves their mind blank, so they can sleep at night, and calms the brain down which in turn calms down the nerves for the nerve pain too. He's been taking it pretty much this entire time. He had no problems weaning off anything else, so he sped this one up a little. He went from 75mg every night to 50mg, then 25mg, then nothing in about a week and a half. Then he started complaining of not being able to sleep at night. At first we thought it was the bed. We're in a full bed at my mom's house, and it's really soft, almost too soft. Then he started getting headaches and feeling really nauseous throughout the day. Then I thought it was because he wasn't drinking enough water and the combination of his blood pressure medicine which can dehydrate him if he doesn't drink enough. Then we googled, and decided he was withdrawing from the Pamelor (the last drug he weaned off). We're really hoping these symptoms only last a couple of weeks. He's already sleeping better, so at least that's improved. I hope the nausea is soon to follow. I hate seeing him like this. He feels nauseous pretty much all day. He feels terrible because he wants to be better in time for this baby to arrive, which could really be any day now. He's tired of feeling like this, anyway, he says. And he doesn't understand how heroin addicts do it, haha. At least I know we'll never be on that show Intervention. If it hasn't improved by next week, we'll have to make an appointment with his doctor when we go back up there to await the arrival of this baby. I just hope it's not something more serious. I just can't think of what else it could possibly be. This is the first time in four months he's been virtually drug free, so I think it's just going to take his body some time to adjust to that. I hope*

Otherwise, our Christmas was great. We spent it with a lot of family, and actually on Christmas day, we were exhausted from all the family gatherings. His big gift was a computer program he likes to use to produce music, and some nice headphones, and also a Keurig. He got me a DSLR Camera, and I've been playing with that a lot. I'm excited to take pictures all day long of our baby. Don't worry, I most certainly will not be starting a photography business. :) It is exciting when I get one good picture out of about 400 though.

It's getting to the point now where we can't believe there are only 10 days - DAYS! - left until this baby is scheduled to arrive. I wonder if he'll come then, sooner, or later. My guess is still for the 7th. Jason thought he'd be here before Christmas. I don't feel any signs of him going anywhere in the next 10 days though. We lay in bed at night and are so thankful that we're going to get another full night's sleep. We are so fortunate to be able to have this time to collect ourselves before he comes, to be able to rest and nap all day long if we feel like it. I just can't believe I'm counting down the days until I won't ever be able to sleep through the night again. Even when he grows older, I'm sure I won't sleep as soundly. I'll always have that motherly worry throughout the nights. I used to periodically wake up and make sure our dog was still breathing. And I do it to Jason also.

Now, our nephews are coming up from Atlanta tomorrow. This could affect our amount of sleep. They are 5 and 7. There will be a lot of legos to be built, and entertaining to be done. And then we get to sit back and remind ourselves that this will be us in a few years. Then we'll have the "What were we thinking?" moment. Oh, joy, I already can't wait!

We've been watching One Born Every Minute. I'm probably most nervous about being a patient. I've never been a patient. If I ever go back to work, I'm sure I'll have so much more empathy for these ladies. I still can't believe they can regulate whether or not you can adopt a dog based on whether or not you'll agree to take them to doggie daycare, but they'll let anyone have a child. And they let you leave with it! And you're supposed to figure out how to do it all by yourself! And children do it all the time! How scary. In our case, we are not ignorant enough. And so, we are not blissful. Ha. We watch too much TV, really. When we watch Supernanny, we talk about how we are going to be way better parents than them. When we watch Teen Mom, we feel way better about ourselves and our situation. When we watch Beyond Scared Straight, we get so nervous that our child will end up that way. When we watch One Born Every Minute, we both just can't believe that's going to be us so freaking soon.

I have all these visions of perfect parenting, and I second guess myself so much, I know it's going to be a huge struggle for me. I want to do everything right. I never want to argue in front of him, or loose my temper, or bribe him, or feed him bad food. The reality is, I know I'm impatient (although they say it's different when it's your own), I know I'm lazy about cooking, and I know sometimes I can't control the volume of my voice. Ha. I will probably still use Johnson's & Johnson's baby shampoo. I will probably give my child Apple Juice at some point. And I will probably not feed him all organic stuff. I do hope to breastfeed for as long as I can. But, I hear that's extremely hard in the beginning. It makes me cringe to think about the pain even now.

So, these next few days will be spent waiting for this still nameless baby to arrive. I hope everyone that still reads this had a wonderful holiday!

Convalescent Leave

2011-12-21T18:07:00.003-05:00

The blogs are slowing down as our schedule seems to slow down too. Jason went on convalescent leave starting last Friday. Thirty days of free leave from the Army to "recover" for those of you who aren't military. We decided to take it now because of the holidays, and the baby. He'll also get ten days of free paternity leave when this baby does come. It's a little stressful though, to be home with our families, I'm not going to lie. Here I am, almost 30, and I feel like I'm home on Christmas break from college again. Mom gets mad when I don't tell her where I'm going...still. We have to divide our time between my moms and his dads, and that can be a pain to drive back and forth. We're on leave, but are still living out of bags. And accumulating more stuff.

Operation Second Chance sent me my much wanted (and expensive) breast pump. Not so exciting for most, but it was for me. That was really the only 'big' thing left on our registry. Other than the crib and the glider I want, but won't get until we get back to Colorado. After all the generosity that has come our way because of Jason and the impending baby, I'm sure we can afford to buy those two things ourselves.

I had a doctors appointment today in Bethesda. If it's not him, it's me. We stopped by OT to get some different sized finger shrinkers, and say hello to everyone. It was definitely pretty dead. Then we waited over an hour for my appointment that lasted about ten minutes. I was becoming more and more irritated - and hungry - by the minute. The weather didn't help, either. Baby is still head down, heart beating, and breathing. Fluid looked good, GBS-, but no internal exam. My next appointment isn't scheduled until the 5th, which is two days before my due date. I figured I don't need to know whether or not I'm dilated. Ignorance is bliss right? We'll probably just pack up and go back to Bethesda to stay if I haven't gone in to labor by then. They don't do internal exams like they used to apparently, because everyone is shocked that I don't know if I'm dilated, or how much he weighs.

I wanted to try to go to the Pentagon City Mall on the way home, just to see what it was like. So we pick the shortest route according to our iPhones, but there was so.much.traffic. It was noon! On a Wednesday! Finally, about 3 miles down the road, Jason got too hungry, so we found a maze of a parking garage, and went to the Cheesecake factory where we still had to wait 15 minutes to be seated. At lunch! On a Wednesday! More and more irritated. I decided I hate the city. Doesn't matter what state it's in, I hate cities. There is nothing about the city that appeals to me. Crowds everywhere, all the time. Impatient people crossing busy streets holding traffic up. They always say cities are more fast paced, but I can't see how that's possible if it takes you 3 hours to run one errand. So by the time our 2 1/2 hour lunch was done, we're pushing rush hour. We continue the way we were going, towards the mall. All the way through Georgetown, and down by Washington Harbor. I'm a terrible navigator, and so we missed our exit. It only took that for Jason to give up and just go home. So we got on 395 and went an average speed of 30mph all the way to the route 1 exit. It took us 3 hours to get home. Long day for one doctors appointment.

Since we've been home (last Friday), Sadie has gotten up on the counter and eaten cookies three different times. The first, was Friday before mom's Christmas party. Mom had all the food on the table, and pushed it back, but not far enough. She came upstairs to get ready, and then we were all upstairs. I waited to hear her follow, but she didn't, which is unusual because she always has to be within eyesight of someone. I called and she didn't come, started down the stairs and called again. Finally she came around the corner smacking her lips pretty hard. I looked at the table but couldn't find anything disturbed. There was a plate of cream puffs with a section missing. I couldn't tell if Mom had planned to put something else there, or if she really at all those cream puffs. Later on, Mom says "Where did all these cream puffs go?!" Strike 1.

Last night, I noticed some crumbs on the counter in front of a plate of cookies left over from the party. I asked dad if he ate those cookies since it looked like half the plate was gone (it was full before). He said "I had a few" and looked over at the plate "but not that many..." Strike 2.

Today, after we all got home, dad showed mom a basket and said "Well, this is the only one she left..." Apparently he didn't know she was leaving, so Sadie was once again downstairs by herself at some point. Mom had individually wrapped all the glorious Christmas cookies Jason and I worked so hard to decorate at Laurens' house last week. She was saving them for our nephews who are coming to visit. Sadie ate all but one. Apparently she took them to her crate, unwrapped the plastic, and ate at least four giant, heavily frosted, sugar cookies. Strike 3.

It's safe to say, she has a sweet tooth. She's also going to be a handful when we get her back. We don't generally leave food out on the counters like they do here, though. She did eat pizza off the top of the stove once, back in Colorado. I suppose these are the joys of being a dog owner. Our old dog ate a whole chicken off the counter back when I was growing up. She knocked over the Christmas tree, too.

Today is the seven year anniversary of the death of our high school friend, Nick Mason. He was killed in Iraq in 2004 by a suicide bomber. It rocked our small town, and everyone still goes to great lengths for his memory, which warms my heart. We didn't get to send off red balloons today because we were stuck in traffic for about 3 hours this afternoon if I haven't already mentioned that. It's hard to believe it's been seven years, though. I remember I was online, IMing - home on Christmas break from JMU - when a friend called and told me what had happened. The war was still so new, and I was still so naive to it, it was really hard to believe at the time. Now, it has all but defined our generation, and it has definitely changed my life forever. It's hard to think back to before the war. And while they are finally finished with Iraq, which is glorious, I wonder how much longer we will be in Afghanistan. At least every other day, the Medevac comes in with more wounded soldiers. I've been meaning to take a picture of it, just the 'bus' as they call it, to remind people that this is still happening. Peoples lives are still changing forever after that one phone call. Even though we're done with Iraq, remember soldiers are still dying, or becoming seriously injured in Afghanistan.

Nick and I did not get along in high school. But, we literally grew up together. Went to Sunday School together, my mom taught him in the fifth grade. After we graduated, we got much closer, thanks to AIM and the good ol days. We talked almost every day when he was deployed, before the days of Skype. I always wonder what our friendship would be like if he had come home. The same things so many families have wondered these past 9 or 10 years, and will continue to wonder until this nonsense stops.

I am thankful this Christmas that my husband sleeps soundly upstairs, as healthy as healthy can be considered in his situation. Almost all in one piece. Off all of his medications, and thriving. So excited to become a new daddy. A gift so many have given up.

Month 4

2011-12-13T15:03:00.002-05:00

I remember sitting in the Navy Lodge, probably at like midnight, typing the "Month 1" post...wondering where we'd be now, and even further down the road. Some days it doesn't seem like we've come very far, other days it feels like we can taste the Colorado oxygen...or lack thereof.

Now, my hands and feet are swollen from walking around all day. Even the "fat, pregnant ring" I bought, is too tight. I'm just going to have to give up on rings for a while. I thought walking was supposed to help. It seems to make it worse for me. Especially in my hands. But my hands used to swell from walking a lot even when I wasn't pregnant. I'm just special I guess. But if that's the worst of the pregnancy symptoms I'm going to get, I guess I should be thankful. Everyone thinks I am crazy anyway, but I really haven't had any crazy mood swings. Unless I'm talking to my mother. The other night, she asked a billion questions all in a row...just complete a thought woman! And as per usual, I got irritated. And she says "Gosh, why are you so sensitive? Geez, those hormones are out of control." Come on. Really? Saying that to any daughter would probably irritate her, haha. The joys of a mother/daughter relationship. I do hope I get to have one, one day. I don't think my son is going to want to talk to me on the phone every night when he's 27.

The appointments still haven't slowed down. Maybe it seems worse because we're trying to get a lot of things done before he goes on convalescent leave. So yesterday, we added a few appointments to the week, and every day there's something new. Then his platoon sergeant or nurse case manager is calling or texting him all morning trying to get a hold of him to do some other administrative crap, even though they could look it up and see that he's got appointments in a building where we get no cell phone service.

So then I look back and remember when I was thinking we'd have all this free time on our hands. Ha. It's never going to end. Even once we leave, I'm sure we'll always be tied to this place some way or another. He'll probably have to come back every once in a while for prosthetic adjustments. And once we get to Colorado, there will be a new heap of problems. Inprocessing and Fort Carson trying to figure out how to deal with his situation. Ugh.

Today at OT, while his hand was in the heat machine thing, we talked about how different it will be once we're "back to normal." He was realizing that even for regular work, he'll possibly have to lug different legs, and socks to work. We'll have to get zippers in all his long pants so that he will be able to access his leg if he needs to add or remove socks mid day.

He could go to the X Games at the end of January, but I couldn't go with baby, and he doesn't seem to want to leave us behind. They're in Colorado, and I think he should go, to get away, and because you don't get a chance to do that very often, but we'll see.

We went to the Army/Navy game this past Saturday. It was a lot nicer than we thought. We came all prepared for the freezing cold, but our seats were in the Upper Level Suites where it's all heated, but the front is open to the field. The lunch was free, but sodas were $5 a piece, and beer was $9! We didn't really get to watch much of the game though. Right before half time, we were supposed to go to the back by the door and meet the President, and when we were told about it, it sounded like a hush hush thing that no one else knew about. Until everyone started seeing everyone else crowding around the door. Then it just got nuts. People were yelling to move back, and we got cut in front of a ton of times. Jason was wearing pants, so no one could tell he was wounded. We ended up in a corner behind people in uniform who seemed to be working the event, but wanted to meet him also. I know everyone wanted to, but it was supposed to be for the wounded warriors, and they were getting swooped by these people. My heart was racing because I was becoming so livid, not because we were about to meet the President. My rude comments started getting louder and louder. Finally after about 10 minutes of pushing and shoving, we realized he was on the field at the half time show. Ha.

When he did finally make his appearance, he walked right by us. We moved to another area, and he started back the other way. They kept telling us to come this way or go that way, and finally we ended up on the opposite side that we started on, being one of the last people to see him. He is very personable, and tall and skinny in person. He asked when I was due, boy or girl, and if we had any names. Jason asked if he had any suggestions, and he said he heard Barack was a good one. We took a picture with him, and that was that. I woke up multiple times that night mad at myself for not saying something about Jason's injury so he'd get the recognition he deserved, but I couldn't figure out how to work it in to the conversation at that moment. If we ever see him again, I'll be sure to tell him. Ha.

We went to see The Nutcracker at Warner Theatre on Sunday night. I've been wanting to do that for a while. The tickets were really expensive, but we treated ourselves since we got screwed on the Pentagon :) It was a great show, and Jason even enjoyed it.

So, here we are, four months later, still going. Now, waiting for this baby to make his appearance, and thankfully he's waited this long to do so. It doesn't feel like he's coming any time soon, but how would I know, I've never done this before. He is still head down, with hands and feet on my right side, butt in my ribs, and back on my left side. Hopefully he stays that way. And hopefully we can make it through Christmas, and it doesn't snow or ice or anything since we will be driving back and forth from Bethesda to King George at least once a week until he decides to show. The car seat is in the car, and the diaper bag is packed. We need to pack the hospital bag, and Jason is determined to put towels in the car in case I deliver en route. Ha. I don't think it will happen that fast. But I sneezed yesterday and it hurt the ligaments in my uterus, so I said "ow ow ow ow" and he thought I was going in to labor again. haha. When it finally does happen, I'm sure we'll look back on all this and laugh.

Hopefully, at month five, we'll have a baby here!

so done

2011-12-08T19:51:00.002-05:00

Let me just say, this will most likely be another depressing, 'woe is me' post. Just FYI.

Back in October, right after we were discharged, we found the events office and learned about all the events they had to offer. We signed up that week to go to the Pentagon but we were on the waiting list. We got a call saying we could go, but we ended up not being allowed because he was still inprocessing to his attached unit here, and we had to go to a mandatory brief that same day. It wasn't as big of a deal then because we didn't think we'd be able to get off the waiting list anyway, and we were really busy with all the appointments and inprocessing after just being discharged. They only do the Pentagon tours every other month, so we were stoked when we saw it back on the list again for December. Perfect. Right before the baby gets here, and he really wanted to go. We were among the first on the list, and have been counting on this trip for at least two weeks. It's all we've been looking forward to this week, which has gone by like molasses. We've told his PT and OT that we won't be here on Friday because we're going on the tour, and were so careful not to schedule any other appointments for that day.

He gets a text this afternoon. (The tour is tomorrow) "Confirm your appointment for bone scan at 1430 tomorrow." WTF. Who scheduled this appointment?? Why didn't they call us first? I understand he's in the military and 'owned by the government' but give him a break. Where's the morale? It was his nurse case manager who was texting him. This man who we have to meet with every Monday morning to be sure Jason still isn't suicidal or homicidal and doesn't need any appointments. If he does, he's supposed to make them for him. Fat chance. We ended up making his last appointment ourselves because it took this guy two days to do it; and it was for a med refill, so not something we can just sit on. He has been trying to get an appointment for a bone scan so he can be approved for running. They told us they were booked through January. But there is a special guy who squeezes them in anyway. This special guy is out sick all week, so we were going to call next week to schedule the appointment for right before we go on leave. Somehow, someone made this appointment for tomorrow, instead. An appointment that will last all of 15 minutes I'm sure.

Now, I know I'm supposed to be all happy and excited that he's got this appointment even though they told us they were booked through January. But, I'm a negative person. And I can totally see us showing up tomorrow for this 15 minute appointment, and the mean lady at the desk will say "you're not showing up in the system." like she did last time. If this happens, I will probably lose my mind. So, we missed an awesome, once in a lifetime, full day tour of the Pentagon for this bullshit.

He texted his case manager back and told him about the scheduled trip, and he told him he had to go to this 'hard to schedule appointment, the pentagon can be rescheduled.' It must be the selfishness in me, but the bone scan can be done 5 days a week. They only do this tour 6 times a year. And so that means the next time they do it, the baby will be here, and I can't see myself taking a newborn on an all day tour. Yeah, let's breastfeed in the middle of the Pentagon. Awesome.

Why no phone call? Why do they think we just sit here ready to go to appointments all day long? Why do we have to drop everything else we have planned for these stupid appointments? Where is the mental wellbeing coming in to play here? I really wanted to go on this trip, maybe more than him, so maybe that's why I'm so upset about it. We've been to the White House twice, but they were both self guided tours, we have yet to be able to get on the official tour where you meet the president and all that. Why? Because of appointments.

He won't fight it though, which I guess I can't push him on, it's his career. And I guess that's why I'm not in the military. I, apparently, don't do well with authority. I wanted to go give this guy a piece of my mind, but he wouldn't let me. I just don't get how he can be so complacent about these things. I was like, utterly crushed that we couldn't go. I am going to be biting my tongue tomorrow morning as we walk by the bus with police escort just to go to the appointments that we already told them we won't be at. And then twiddle our thumbs until 1430.

Why do I let things make me this upset? If this bone scan is the correct one, then I should be happy that he's one step closer to being approved for running, getting the running leg, and getting out of here. But instead, I stewed all afternoon, and pouted, and was so mad I wanted to scream, but figured it would do no good. All the while, he just goes along with his day like it doesn't bother him, and that just makes me even more mad. I know if I ask him, he'll say "There's nothing I can do about it, sitting here being mad isn't going to help anything." And there's logic in that statement, but my brain doesn't work that way I guess.

So, I officially hate it here. I hate the people, and I hate the reasons that we're here. I hate that all they preach is morale and mental health, and get involved! And then they make it freaking impossible. We're signed up to go to the Army/Navy game Saturday, but I suppose I shouldn't get too excited about that until we're on the bus to go.

And all day tomorrow, I will walk around with a scowl on my face, insanely bitter that I'm not at the pentagon meeting super important people and all that fun stuff.

That doesn't help him any, and it certainly doesn't make for a very friendly wife. I hate that I do this, and react this way in these situations. I hate that everyone in the universe can tell when I'm beyond pissed. How do people put on those fake happy faces all the time and go about their business like grown ups? I'm still so, so childish, I think.

Then I try to remember why we're here, and how it was 4 months ago, and how distraught I was about much bigger things. I need to always keep that fresh in my memory. Because missing a tour at the Pentagon is not the end of the world. But today, it was for me.

another week gone

2011-12-02T21:52:00.003-05:00

Our days have been pretty much the same this last week. It was our first full week of appointments since his hospitalization because of Veterans Day and Thanksgiving. It's like going back to school after Thanksgiving only to have to study for finals, and then have a month off for Christmas. Speaking of which, we're hoping to get his convalescent leave for the middle of December through the middle of January. After that, the baby should be here, and he'll get ten days of paternity leave. His therapists will likely clear him to do PT and OT on his own, so we won't have to go to appointments while on leave. We will have to work a little harder to stay motivated to work out, though :)

I think, for the most part, we have everything we need for baby! Jason and I went to Babies R Us the other day, and got a lot of the remaining things from our registry. I could've been in there for hours. He faded quickly, though. I tried to only get the basic things, but we'll see how much of the stuff I have, I actually use. This baby already has a dresser full of clothes which I tried to organize by size. I can't wait to get back to Colorado so he'll have his own space. Right now we have the pack n play with little changing thing on top in our room, a cradle my mom found in the living room, and all his clothes and changing table pad in the second bedroom. He's kind of all spread out, but oh well. I know I'll be too anal to not have him in our room in the beginning, especially with breastfeeding. Jason has been fighting me on having multiple changing areas...he just doesn't understand the point. I tried to explain it, but he still doesn't see my logic. He thinks he can just change him in our bed every time. ha. Until he pees all over the sheets at 0200. I'm sure how we have it set up now will change once he comes. That's how it always works. I'm not going to lie, having the pack n play across the room even freaks me out a little. I won't be able to see him breathing from all the way in the bed! Yes, I'm that nervous. Now I just feel like a sitting duck, wondering when I will go in to labor. We're going to have to bring the car seat and hospital bag home with us on leave just to have. And I will probably have to come back up here once a week for a check up which is a bummer, but I will survive it. I'm hoping he'll hold out until after Christmas. Jason seems to think he's going to come sooner.

We set a goal date for returning to Colorado of 31 March. That's just the date we've set for ourselves, of course he'll have to clear this base and all the doctors first. We need to get a bunch more legs, he has to have a bone density scan to clear him for running, he has to go to the gait lab to be sure he's walking okay, he needs to go to the wheelchair clinic to get a custom wheelchair that will probably take 6-8 weeks before it comes. That took some convincing; he didn't want to get one at all. I'm just afraid we will need it down the road in case anything happens and he can't use the crutches. Basically, I am trying to drain this place of all it has to offer before we leave and it becomes that much more of a hassle.

I almost feel bad though, for being this far in his recovery that we are able to think about returning home and getting on with our lives. There are people who have been here for 2 years. I don't know how they do it. A lot of these guys are doing their med board process here, though, and that can take at least a year in itself. We are waiting until we get back to Colorado to start the med board. That way we can be in our own home, and hopefully I can get a part time job eventually. Otherwise, I'd have to go back to Colorado alone (and with the baby), while he stayed here in the single soldier barracks and did his med board. A lot of guys are med boarding out of the Army though, so it might be a little different for their families too. He wants to stay in, and stay at Fort Carson for a few more years, so that's why we're trying so hard to go back. I just hope that once we are back, we will be happy. In life, there are always those times when you say "I just want to do.....whatever it is....and then I will be happy." But then that thing comes and goes, and you think of something else that would make you so happy. Right now, Colorado is our 'thing'.

This weekend we're going to the White House again, for a tour to see the Christmas decorations, nothing official unfortunately. Next week we do get an official tour of the Pentagon though, so that will be fun. We have a Christmas party to go to tomorrow night, and then another labor/delivery/breastfeeding/baby class all day Sunday.

It feels like I'm running out of things to write about. Hopefully the holidays will prove to be a little more eventful. Although, I can say, sometimes I don't mind the fact that things aren't too eventful around here these days!

Give Thanks

2011-11-27T22:38:00.005-05:00

The swelling has begun. Ugh. I was so (selfishly) hoping I'd get away with an almost perfect pregnancy. Guess I shouldn't be jumping the gun here. I started noticing it last week, I think. In the mornings my hands swell, and any time I sit for too long my feet swell. They used to do that anyway, but with pregnancy, it's way worse. Then when I stand up, and my toes are still touching each other when I walk, ugh, I hate that feeling. So, the 6 hour car drive home from the beach this evening was fun. I was trying to stretch and put them up on the dash, but that's just not comfortable. Between Jason and I, we have three constantly swollen feet! ha. They're not swollen all the time, though, so I can be very grateful for that.

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family. We kind of got out of his appointments on Wednesday since he only had PT and OT, and ended up leaving Tuesday afternoon. We drove down to VaBeach to visit his brother and his family for the night and all day Wednesday. It was nice to spend time with just them. Usually when we see them, it's over the holidays or at a family function and it's hard to just have conversation between the four of us. We got some baby time in with their nine month old, and that was quite entertaining. It of course got me thinking of all the things I'll/we'll have to deal with very soon. It took me three months...maybe more...to pick out a diaper bag. How will I ever make my own decisions when it comes to raising a child. Goodness.

We left late Wednesday, and drove down to the Outer Banks where my mom has beach property. We spent our days planning the next meal, and hanging out with good company. It was relaxing. We did a little black Friday shopping but there aren't many big stores down there. It may have been a blessing in disguise. We also finished a puzzle, played Yahtzee, Scattegories, and Mad Gab.

Our dog was even allowed to go to the beach - my mom has never allowed pets at her beach houses, just because of the clean up and dog hair, and wet dogs and sand and all that. But since our neighbors would be at the beach with us, we had no choice but to bring her unless we wanted to spend Thanksgiving without my dad. I didn't think she'd be one to run straight to the water anyway, and she wasn't. She just laid in the sand next to us while we were sitting on the beach. This time of year, a lot of people have their pets down there, so she was having a hard time with the social scene. My parents are a godsend for all the help they've given us these last few months, especially with Sadie. But, my dad, who talks to her like she's a human, refuses to use her shock collar or continue with any of the training we had done. She's become very spoiled and less socialized just because of where they live, and it worries me. Apparently multiple times while they were on the beach, if another dog approached her, she would start growling and barking and pulling on the leash which my mom couldn't hold. I will do anything not to have to get rid of this dog after the baby comes, but I am so, so worried for when we return to Colorado. She's had a lot of changes these last few months, the beach was a new change too. New owners, new houses, new people. Then we'll go back to Colorado where all the sudden she won't be #1 any more, and there will be a baby to deal with. She has never, ever been aggressive, but she is an animal, and you can never predict what they will do. I think my dad has been a little more rough in playing with her, too, because we were playing on the beach and she started mouthing my legs, which she's never done before. In a playful way, and it was fine with me, but I can't imagine it'd be fine with a toddler...

Anyway, what's one of my blogs without a worry rant?!

Jason's finger looks much better, we've been wrapping it to start the shrinking process. The stitches will come out on Tuesday and then we can start more scar massage and OT. He figured out that he can't shuffle a deck of cards, and he tried to pick something up off the floor and couldn't because it was right between those fingers. But, he'll adapt, he has already adapted to a lot so far.

There are a few last things I still need to get for this nameless baby. We need to move a desk in this lovely apartment, and I need to wash all the clothes. We also need to figure out a name. And we have a lot of Christmas shopping to finish. I am not looking forward to shopping up in DC around this time of year.

We get to tour the Pentagon next Friday, the White House again this Saturday to look at the Christmas decorations, and the Army/Navy game is next Saturday. It's going to be a busy next couple of weekends, so we'll have to push the shopping to during the week. That will probably be best anyway because of the craziness that is this place.

The appointments still haven't seemed to slow down. We have yet to have an entire week when it's just PT and OT. Inevitably there's another one thrown in there somewhere. This week we have a 'scrimmage', Ortho, and Infectious Disease on top of his PT and OT. Plus he's been trying to get with the piano man - a guy who offers free lessons (and is highly reputable) but the timing is never right. We're going to try to do that this week.

So, all in all, our Thanksgiving was wonderful. I am grateful I got to spend it with my husband, although if I had it my way, I'd still rather him be in Afghanistan than us be in this situation. But, I'm being grateful here, so I'm glad for that. I'm glad that the rest of the guys that are still in Afghanistan are safe, too. I'm glad that we're able to be this close to family at a time like this, and that we are able to drive everywhere to see them. Jason drove the entire trip, by the way. I'm glad I've had such an easy pregnancy so far, and I hope I don't jinx it by saying that.

Slowly, I find myself forgetting what life was like back in August. This is normal now, and we feel 'at home' when we drive on to this base. I always try to remind myself of how angry and emotional I was back then, and my reasoning for it, so that I will stay grounded and not take this for granted. We talk about it often, about what those first couple of days were like for both of us. I, and everyone around us, are amazed at how far we've come in only three months. There isn't much more we could be thankful for at the moment.

Ok, 9.5 fingers!

2011-11-20T21:42:00.002-05:00

So since I've last updated, we actually have 9.5 fingers!

My baby shower last week was fabulous, and I feel very blessed to have gotten all the wonderful things I (we) did. Almost everyone came, and it did feel wonderful to talk to old friends and see new babies I hadn't had the chance to meet yet.

That evening, I drove back up to Bethesda and after unloading a car full of baby shower gifts, I finally made it over to the hospital around 10pm. Oh, how I hate those hospital rooms. It felt weirdly nostalgic, going back up to the fourth floor, this time a different room, but still. And it's only been about 6 weeks since we were there. The room was much less cluttered, for sure. And Jason, much more mobile. He still had all his fingers at that point, and had that stupid 2x4 for a hand again.

I stayed until about 1am I think, too late as usual. I got up at 4:30 to be sure I was back in time for the doctor to come by. During his entire first inpatient stay, I never saw this illusive hand doctor because he always came so early. I would not miss this encounter. He didn't come until 9. Jason obviously wasn't first case for the OR. He explained that he looked at the MRI, and he offered 3 options. First, try to save the finger. Second, take it from the fracture site. Third, ray resection, or take the whole finger and the ligaments down in to the hand, moving the fingers closer together. He felt the best option would be number two, and since we spent the weekend under the impression he wouldn't even have that option, we were happy. Well, I was. I can't speak for Jason. I know he was/is disappointed in having to give up another body part and learn to adapt in a new way for different things again.

Poor thing had been NPO since midnight, and finally went down to surgery around 1:30 if I remember correctly. I was too afraid to leave and get all the way back to the room and then have them call me and say they were done. I really wanted to talk to the doctor afterwards to see what had happened.

My wonderful friends who took half my baby shower stuff back up north for me, met me and waited in the waiting room with me until he was done. The doctor finally came out and had pictures of his finger. They took it from the fracture site, which was about half way between the middle and distal knuckle and folded the remaining skin up over top. It looks a little funny, I'm not going to lie, but at least he still has some function in it. Since I knew he'd be back up from surgery in a little while, the girls and I went back to our room and they helped me unload all the rest of the baby shower stuff. They were wonderful enough to help me organize it all, also! I finally showered, and ventured back up to the room to see Jason. We ordered pizza, and called it a night.

We found out the next day he would likely go back to the OR on Wednesday for a wash out. This confused me because the doctor said his remaining bone looked very healthy, so he went ahead and closed it. It just didn't (and still doesn't) make sense to me that they would close a wound and then go back in and open it up again. I was slightly upset about this because we were really hoping to get out of the hospital by the weekend. If he had to go back to the OR, I could't see them letting him go by then. Of course, as is normal while inpatient, we got the runaround.

Wednesday comes around, and he's down in PreOp before 6am when I show up. They gave him the option of going back to the OR for another washout and then doing oral antibiotics for about a week at home, or not going to the OR, and getting a PICC Line and having IV antibiotics for about 6 weeks at home. He chose the first.

That evening, we hoped he'd be switched to oral antibiotics for possible discharge the next day. I guess I was rushing the process. Instead of that, they put him on the bacteria specific antibiotic and wrote the order for 3 days. WTF. I was mad. Earlier, the Ortho docs and the Infectious Disease docs told us 'yes he can be switched to oral meds, and yes possible discharge tomorrow.' You better believe I was mad. But it was late when she hung the first bag, and of course all the people you want to talk to go home by 4pm. The next morning, Thursday, Infectious Disease came in before I had a chance to get there, and told him they wanted him to stay on the IV antibiotics while he was inpatient. So we assumed that meant we'd be here through the weekend. I was hot. They happened to come in again later in the day. I tried to be polite, but I still said "So do you guys ever communicate with the other doctors on his case? Or do they just have to read your notes? Because it seems like we're getting a lot of back and forth here. It'd be nice if we could get a straight answer."

They didn't say much.

I think we ended Thursday still not knowing if we'd be home by the weekend. We were both in a really crappy mood. The weather was yucky that day too. It's amazing how fast things change. It was like going back to jail after having a small taste of freedom. We were confined to the hospitals protocols and all that bahooie. We were grumpy. This time Jason could walk, and do most everything by himself. The grass is always greener, I guess. I decided I'd go to Target and finally do some baby shopping after returning a few duplicates from the baby shower. I have been itching to buy stuff for this baby, but I didn't want to until after the shower.

Friday morning he said they came in and said they were going to try to discharge him first thing. Thank goodness. It still took until about 1130 to get out of there, but we did it. And we came back to building 62, packed our bags, and went upstairs to eat lunch. Then we got on a bus to Ocean City. Talk about wasting no time!

We signed up to go on a marriage retreat with the Army a few weeks ago. It's pretty religious based, but it's also a free trip. We had a good time, learned a few techniques for communicating and such, and relaxed a little. But we're still pretty tired from it all.

We got back this evening, and I didn't bother to fully unpack our bags. It's Thanksgiving this week. We're making the trek down to Nags Head to be with my family. We're going to stop in Va Beach on the way to visit his brother and family to break up the trip. Hopefully the traffic isn't a nightmare. I have a bad feeling about that, though.

Now we have lots of appointments to catch up on. A scan for his hip to be cleared for running, an x-ray of his nub to confirm HO, follow up with ortho and infectious disease, cancel appointments for the fluoroscopy he was supposed to have of that finger, wheelchair clinic, and my baby appointment. phew.

We did put the stroller/car seat and pack n' play together, though. That was exciting, and a little nerve wracking at the same time. Like, "Oh shit this is our junk now. We're having a baby soon. Real soon. A little human. Oh crap." Jason helped me cut all the tags off all the baby clothes. I was going to wash them all. That was a little over zealous of me. I just did one load for tonight, of blankets, towels, washcloths, and sheets. It was a full load. I'm trying this new thing, where even though I have this huge list of things I want to get accomplished, I have to be realistic of the timeline. If I had done the rest of the clothes, I'd still be awake right now doing laundry. And in reality, what's the rush right now? So, I forced myself to leave the rest of the stuff in piles on the bed. I'll try to tackle it tomorrow.

This baby still has no name. Suggestions?

Nine Fingers?

2011-11-13T07:48:00.003-05:00

What a weekend. And it's not even over yet.

Probably the worst Veterans Day weekend my Veteran will ever have.

Disclaimer*

This will likely be a more negative/depressing blog. If you're not interested in reading that kind of material, stop now.

Where should we begin!?

We came home Thursday afternoon. He drove the whole way, and said it felt like a work out, but did a great job. He was complaining of pain in his finger only a little. That night, the pain increases to the point of nausea, and he ended up taking an Oxycontin which he hasn't taken in a really long time. He felt defeated because he had to take it, but I wasn't going to have him in that much pain all weekend.

The next morning he woke up still nauseous, and in even more pain in his finger. We showered, and for the first time, got this finger wet. The pins came out on Tuesday, and since they were out, he was allowed to get that wound wet, and they encouraged it. We drizzled soapy water over it from the wash cloth, but the whole time, he was almost in tears in pain. From the standing on one leg for the duration of the shower, to the finger throbbing, he was so done. We quickly finished in the shower, and started to do some wound care. The pin site was oozing pretty bad, but this wasn't uncommon for him. It did that when the pins were in. The pain was new. Also new, the redness, swelling, and heat coming from that finger. We dressed it, and decided to take his morning medications and wait an hour to see how it felt. And when he showers in the morning, his leg swells, and he can't fit in to his prosthetic. So it was a morning of defeats. He had to scoot down the stairs on his butt, and I could see the "I'm so done." all over his face.

We relaxed on the couch, put his leg up, took his medicine, tried to eat. After about 2 hours, he said he felt much better, and the only pain was the stinging. I told him to watch so close for any redness going up his hand or arm, and that if that happens, he better get his ass back home. He went up to visit his friend from high school, and spent most of the day and night up there. He said his finger still hurt pretty bad, but he was trying not to be a "b*tch" about it. When he got home, it was still red, but nothing moving. Very swollen too.

Saturday morning he woke up, and I could tell he wasn't in as much pain. He sounded surprised when I asked and he said "Actually, it's not that bad!" And then we looked at it and saw that it had started pussing, out the back end of the dressing. Gross. So, we called our nurse neighbor friend for a second opinion, and started the dressing change process. Now the wound was bigger. The tissue directly over the break looked bruised, and as he put pressure on the skin around the wound, it just oozed. We've been trying to heal this skin graft for the past 2 months. It was almost closed. Now it's bigger. Not a good sign. He said he could feel the bone shifting when he held his hand sideways, because of the break. Still very swollen and red, although not as hot. And no streaking. We call Joe from OT, even though we know he won't be able to tell us what to do, we just wanted to know if wound care was on call on the weekends. They're not. And the consensus is to go to the ER.

We decide it'd be best for him to go all the way back up to Bethesda since they have all his records and access to all his doctors there. I felt terrible. His dad agreed to take him, thank goodness. But, I wish I could've been there.

We really thought they'd just put him on antibiotics and send him home with a follow up on Monday. That didn't happen.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting at my house waiting for my Dad to bring my dog back home...there was a miscommunication, or lack thereof, and he didn't know I wanted to leave with her at 11 to go visit a friend and get her groomed. He never takes his cell phone. Anywhere. And I know as soon as I leave to go look for them, he'll come home, so I just wait. He gets home with minutes to spare of the time I needed to leave to get her to her appointment on time. I get half way down my stupid windy road that I hate driving on anyway, and realize I forgot the rabies certificate. Have to turn around and get it. Now we're going to be way late. Finally get there, make another wrong turn, which makes us even later. It is not our day, I decide. Take her to the groomer where they say it can be anywhere from 3-5 hours. Good Lord I don't know what they do to those dogs for that long. I went to hang out with my friend while she was there. Finally at the 4 hour mark, I call to see how much longer it will be. I get "Oh, you're Sadie's mom? Hold on a minute." Never a good sign. I'm thinking, great, they gave my dog to the wrong person or something like that. Another woman comes on the phone "Well, Sadie is all finished, but she cut her foot. We had the vet take a look at it and she said she could throw a stitch in there if you wanted, but it doesn't seem to be bothering her at all." So this is how parents feel when the daycare calls and says their child has hurt themselves. No, it's no charge. Sure, we'll do it and she'll be ready in about 15 minutes they tell me. We get there in the 15 minutes she told us it would be - "Oh, well we got really busy and the doctor is going to see her right after she finishes up with the other patient." Ok. 30 minutes go by, still no Sadie. Now I'm thinking, if they come out and tell me she had an allergic reaction and they'll have to keep her overnight, or she kicked them while they were doing the procedure and they cut her more, I'm going to flip my lid. An hour later, some chic says "Well we got really slammed with appointments and the doctor is finishing up a urinalysis and then she'll see Sadie. We can't really move anyone to the front of the line for treatment." I'm thinking - uh yes you can, you were the ones who cut her foot, you can see her first. But of course I just smile and nod instead. Finally the doctor comes out, says 'maybe I'll glue it instead' Ok fine just do it and let's go, and 4 seconds later she was done. We waited an hour and a half for 4 seconds of gluing.

So my friends dog, Riley and Sadie finally get to meet and play for a while, although by this time I think Sadie is totally overstimulated and exhausted.

Jason calls and says "Bad news." Great.

The short story to all this is:

His finger is, in fact, infected.

(He sent me a picture around 3pm of a red streak starting up his arm - he was the first to notice it, and informed the Doctor about it I assume - by 9pm, he still hadn't received IV antibiotics)

They were now worried about bone infection.

They tried to give him a temporary nerve block so they could open the wound more, the wound we've tried so hard to heal, and see how much was infected. He said it didn't really work.

They gave him IV Dilaudid and he was high for a couple hours he said, but that wore off too.

He left his book bag in his dads truck at home with all his medications and socks and shrinkers for his leg. I was so mad at him for that, I'm not even going to lie. What was he thinking?!

He got x-rays, and apparently his Ortho Doc was consulted.

He got an MRI but doesn't know the results of that yet, although with this streak of luck, I can guess what they're going to be.

He was admitted back to the fourth floor where he spent his first month and a half here.

Surgery on Monday.

Basically, we're looking at losing a finger. And not just the tip, the entire finger. Where they take the finger and all the ligaments in the hand and fuse the hand smaller so there's no space for the remaining fingers to drift. Sweet. Now he'll have a peg leg and a pterodactyl hand. As if people don't stare enough. As if he doesn't already feel like a circus act, let's tack this on.

I guess the doctor told him that before he goes in to surgery, he will have him sign a consent that basically says if they need to take the finger, they will be allowed to. I'm having a hard time with this. I just think it's the easy way out for the doctor. "Eh, it's not looking so hot. Eff it, let's just cut the thing off - hey student would you like to do this one?" I can so picture that. It's how the medical world works unfortunately. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a raging bitch when I show up there tonight, and I don't even care. But I don't think I'm going to let him add that to the consent.

What I'm so mad about, is that this was never considered until now. When I asked the doctors about an MRI wayyyyy back when he was still inpatient, they all just said "Oh, I'll have to look. I'm sure he had one somewhere, it's just not showing up in our system."

He never got an MRI in Bethesda. Until yesterday.

I'm no genius, but if someone is coming in with multi trauma - wouldn't they want a generalized, overall picture of what is going on inside, to be sure they're not missing anything? If he had had the MRI done in the beginning, would they have even noticed his middle finger bone being infected? If he'd had it done, they would've had something to compare this one to at least. And not only the bone infection, he should've had one done simply because he stepped on a freaking land mine. If that's not close enough to an explosion to warrant an MRI, then I don't know what is. I might have to consult my legal friends on this one. If he has to lose his finger for something that could've been prevented? Oh yeah.

Bone infection does not happen over the course of 4 days. They told him that it's probably been infected this entire time, and when the pins came out, it finally moved out of the bone and in to the skin where it started showing itself.

Again, I find myself wondering "How much more can I take?" I was ok with the leg, I had to be. I didn't get a choice in that one. Now, with this finger business, we have a choice as to how his treatment goes, and I obviously want them to do everything they can to save that finger, minus letting the infection spread so he ends up loosing his hand. The missing leg is almost less weird than a three finger hand to me right now. But, if it happens, I'm sure I will get used to it, just like we've gotten used to everything else.

I hate that he has to wake up and look at that leg every morning, because I know he's thinking how much it sucks. And now we're going to lose more movement in this hand since they have it immobilized in a huge stupid cast again. "Hey, let's see how much progress you can make, and then lets make you start all over again because you have to have another part of your body removed!" Sounds like a fun game someone's playing with our life.

And now, here's the selfish rant.

This weekend was supposed to be about me. He acknowledged that, which made me feel a little better, but it doesn't make the situation any better. We were supposed to have some professional pictures taken this morning which obviously didn't happen. My baby shower is this afternoon. I know, out of general concern, people will want to know how Jason is, and ask about him. Do I tell them the entire story that will take forever or do I just tell them he's fine? Chances are, some of my guests will have read this before coming, so maybe the word will get out, and I won't have to explain anything a million times. But the only part I can think about is the fact that we have 4 big boxes of stuff we mailed home from Colorado to go back up to Bethesda, plus everything from the baby shower. And now I get to drive it up and unload it all by myself.

That's not fair, you're probably saying. Yes, I know. He didn't do this on purpose. He didn't do any of this on purpose. I understand that. But these are the thoughts going through my head in my current state. So just deal with it.

Here we were hoping he'd be mostly healed, and almost ready to go back to Colorado as soon as the baby was born. Now I'm wondering if he'll still be recovering from another surgery and be able to help me at all. People also do this all the time. Have babies all by themselves. I should know, I worked in a military hospital and saw women come in every single day and deliver their babies while their husbands were deployed. At least he'll be here when I deliver. Why can't I be grateful for that?!

When will we catch a break? Win the lottery? Have something really good happen to us? This baby will be a blessing, I'm not discounting him. I know there are many people who cannot have children, and we are blessed in this sense. But, sitting here, 8 months pregnant, thinking about my husbands finger getting lobbed off, and thinking about the string of events we've gone through these past 3 months, only makes me wonder what could go wrong with the birth of our baby boy. I pray to God, nothing, but I just can't make myself believe that after all this.

Today is three months since he was injured. Didn't think this is where we'd be, that's for sure.

It's always been a flaw of mine that people can tell I'm pissed or genuinely don't want to be somewhere. I've never been able to fake emotions. It's going to be hard to put on a happy face today at this baby shower that everyone has made time for out of their busy schedules to come to. And all I will be able to think about is how my husband might loose another body part while I'm sitting there opening presents for a baby who still has no name because, quite honestly, it's the last thing on my list of priorities right now.

Case Study

2011-11-09T13:10:00.003-05:00

There have been a couple specific things these past couple days that I've made a mental note to be sure to include in my blog. Let's see if I can remember all of them!

Yesterday, we went to the mall. Again. We have probably not been to a mall this frequently...ever. But, we know how to get there, and there are always multiple food choices. Ha.

(Side note: Ahhhhh the sound of machine guns and people dying on this wonderful video game.)

So, I may or may not have bribed him to go to the mall to get his new video game - Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3. It didn't take much convincing. And, shockingly, even though people were up at the mall standing in line at midnight to get this game, they still had them in stock. Then it was my turn. I've been so distressed about my engagement ring being a lost cause lately. No idea why it's bothering me so much. I haven't worn it since April anyway. But my wedding band is getting pretty small these days, so I've been wanting a little something to replace it while I'm fat. Hence my bribe to the mall. I got a little sapphire with diamonds on the side in white gold. It's different, which is what I wanted, so it was a success.

We went to Chick-fil-a of course, and the sad part is, the guy recognized us. We were probably there 3 days earlier and this guy was like "Dude, what happened to your fingers?" Jason still had his pins in. And they're behind the counter so they can't see his leg. So when he says "Uh, I stepped on a land mine" they are usually a little caught off guard. This time Bryan, The Milkshake Expert (it said that on his name tag) said "Looks like your fingers are healing a little huh bro" That's when we knew we might go to that Chick-fil-a too often. We're going to have to start rotating our locations.

While we were in the jewelry store, a man stopped and shook Jason's hand. Shook it like he meant it too. Dead lock in the eyes. He was so sincere, it was refreshing. Not just a "thanks for your service", it was more like "No really, you don't understand, we really appreciate what you do." It was nice.

On that note, Jason got his final two pins out of his middle finger yesterday. They'd been in for 12 weeks. The process was much less painful than the last two pins he had out, thank goodness. But, just because the pins came out doesn't mean his finger is healed, because it isn't. The doctor basically said "I just can't leave pins in you forever, so if it hasn't healed by now, there is a good chance it won't heal on its own." Grreat. In three weeks we go back, and he will put it under the fluoroscope (live x-ray) and move it. Sounds like a great idea huh. From what I understand, he wants to see if it will have healed any more on its own, and if it's moving as one piece or two separate, still broken, pieces. If it's the latter, a bone graft will be in his future. Ugh. And since I've wisend up to this whole grafting process, I asked about the take. "Well, there's always a chance it won't take as well." Sweet. So then what? "Amputation if it's painful and bothering him."

Needless to say, he's frustrated. He's upset that we're spending all this time healing the skin graft and then they may just have to cut right through it to bone graft, and if that doesn't work, they're just going to cut it off anyway! I'd be frustrated too. Although, at this point, I'm just trying to go with it. There's nothing we can do besides see how it plays out. And drink lots of milk. Of course, we're really hoping, and borderline praying, that it will start to form a bone callus on it's own over the course of these next three weeks so we won't even have to consider any of that other stuff.

At this point, he's flying with his recovery. Unlike a lot of the other guys. The only thing we're waiting for now, is for his leg to get to a more permanent size so he can get the permanent sockets, and to figure out what to do with this finger. Then we'll be on our way back to Colorado.

We thoroughly enjoy going to PT and OT in the morning. We usually are laughing the whole time. Except in PT when he's about to die from working out. There's an enlisted guy, who is pretty ripped, and Jason loves working out with him. He's a PT tech - if there are such titles - he usually kicks his ass every single morning. Then we go to OT with 'mean ass Joe' as Jason has affectionately named him. I usually have to keep him on task. Ha. I'm sure he'll be so excited when I leave. In fact, he was talking about transitioning Jason to more outpatient OT because he really doesn't need much guidance in it. Unlike some other guys who he can't even get to practice standing up. Joe's favorite 'therapy' is usually "Hey Searles, rearrange the weight bench for me. It will be good therapy." But really he's just trying to get him to do his work. But today was my favorite remark from Joe. We were looking at the x-rays taken of Jason's fingers yesterday. Joe was totally off on his landmarks of his fingers. I simply corrected him. "Don't you ever get tired of being right?!" he says to me. HA. Jason could've crawled in to a hole. He said, "Thanks a lot, Joe. Now you've done it." Our day at OT is pretty much a little bit of range of motion on his fingers, and the rest cracking jokes. It's a nice break.

The other day, MATC was really crowded because there were about 3 Physical Therapy students assigned to each guy in there. All with their notebooks in hand. I so remember those days. Not physical therapy per se, but same concept. When you carry the worksheet of questions in to the patients room because your professor wants to know the dumbest shit about them. They were actually from Shenandoah University, and a couple went to undergrad at JMU so I can't hate on them that much. But I was just thinking about their little case studies they'd have to write. "Patient JS, right trans tibial amputation, occasional phantom pains which pt states improves after a few minutes of walking with prosthetic...." Weird. We're like zoo animals. Or science experiments.

I don't know if I mentioned that Jason is in his second socket now. This is a good thing. His first one was way too big after all the shrinking. Total, he was in it for about a month. Now, it's sitting on the table. What will he make out of it?! Who knows. How many more will we collect?

We went to the Navy vs Troy game in Annapolis over the weekend. There was a Warrior Events group there who were overly accommodating. He drank his first beer(s) - which were all free. I only wish I could've indulged. He got to meet the superintendent of the Naval Academy and we 'watched' the game from up in some special area that had more free food and beer. It was pretty chilly, and Navy was stomping Troy, so we spent a lot of the game in the tent next to the heater, ha. Next weekend we're going on the marriage retreat to Ocean City, MD. We're trying to take advantage of all the activities offered while we're here, and we don't have a newborn. We are dying to take the Pentagon and White House tour, but obviously those fill up fast.

We're excited to go home for the weekend. Have a baby shower, and see lots of good friends. We are blessed to be this close to family and friends at a time like this. But we are so ready to go back to living our own life. It's a little scary going back with only one income. I really hope I can get back in to work part time.

Enough with the worrying.

Onward!

long winded

2011-11-03T12:03:00.004-04:00

Phew.

This one may be long. Baby boy is rolling around doing summersaults I think...enjoying his lunch.

Mom and I went to Colorado this past weekend. It was probably one of the most productive weekends I have ever had! It felt so good. It's amazing how good being productive can feel. Especially when you've been in our situation, and almost everything is out of your control. It was nice to pretend to live in our home again, if only for the weekend. And let me say, I probably wouldn't have done half the things I did if my mom wasn't there. If there's on thing that I love about her the most, it's her ability to get things done. This is probably the same thing that annoys me the most. But this weekend, I was so thankful for it.

She cleaned out the fridge for me, like actually scrubbed it - which I don't think has been done since we moved in. We threw out a lot of food unfortunately. We swept, vacuumed, and mopped. She doused the giant ant hill in the back yard with gasoline trying to kill them...we'll see if they're back when we get back. I renewed Jason's registration. And I drove that *ahem* wonderful Jeep all weekend. We had to jump start it at first...I'm pretty good at that now too. I was even smart enough to back it in to the garage knowing that we won't be back there for a while, and we'll definitely have to jump it again. We took the flag and hose in, and put the outside furniture in to the garage. It does get rather windy out there. I hung the fall door decoration, and finally took down the July 4th one - ha. I bought more face stuff - which isn't sold everywhere, and since I know where they sell it in Colorado, I went ahead and got that. I picked up two birthday packages that got returned. I sent them two days before he was injured. They've been sitting at that post office for about 3 weeks apparently. It was a little disappointing opening up the packages I sent intending for him to open. I had forgotten what I sent. Lots of snacks. Great, more food to go bad. Yo-yo's, glow in the dark swords, parachute men, bouncy balls, a Happy Birthday banner, etc. So we had to redistribute all that stuff, and figure out what to do with it.

Mom says I was nesting. I Clorox wiped the blinds, the fridge handle, the doors, and the banister. Those things get SO dirty. There were dirty finger prints all up and down the doors for some reason. Ew. We changed the air filters. Something we've only done once since we've lived in that house. Oops. Apparently you're supposed to do that fairly frequently. They were pretty gross.

We rearranged the office, that was to be the nursery, so that when we finally do get back to Colorado, we won't have as much to do in there. We redistributed all the sheets that took up an entire dresser (I think we might have too many) because that will be his dresser/changing table. We moved the filing cabinets and all nursing books to the guest room for the time being. The books will be sent back to VA with my loving parents to collect dust in the basement. Eventually I will burn them. The desk needs to be taken apart and either sent home, or to the garage. I will hang my diplomas in our room on my side of the bed or in the hall way. We are getting his Purple Heart certificate framed for him for Christmas and that will hang either on his side of the bed or in the hall way as well. I hate hanging pictures. I can never do it right. And it just takes too much calculation. It's one of the special jobs I always save for my dad. Ha.

I had to get the security system fixed because one of the sensors wasn't connected. Mom was there when the guy came - they were supposed to charge us $111 just for the service call because apparently we don't have maintenance on the contract. I don't know what mom said, but I wouldn't put it past her to give a sob story. Either way, he didn't charge us, thank goodness. It was an easy fix apparently. So now the security system we've been paying for actually turns on when we're not there :)

I got my hair cut and colored. And after that expense, I decided I will only be allowed to color my hair every other time. But I probably won't get it cut or colored again while we're here, so by the time we get back to Colorado, it's going to be pretty gnarly. It's just such a pain finding a new hairdresser!

By the way, UPSing 4 boxes is not cheap. Just saying. We got Dad four rolls of quarters. He collects them. And we live near Denver, which means it's more likely that the quarters in Colorado have the little 'D' on them instead of the 'P' that he sees more commonly on the east coast. At least he's easy to please!

I went in to work and took care of a few things. I cleaned out my locker :( I figured I wouldn't hog it since I don't know how long I will be gone. Learned that not much has changed at work, so it doesn't make me miss it as much, but I do miss it. And the pay check of course. I'm at least keeping everything updated so that when I do go back, it won't be such a hassle. I do plan on going back. I'd love to go back part time. I just can't see myself working full time with a baby! I think I'll want to get out of the house eventually though, so I feel like part time is a good compromise - if they'll let me do it.

Anyway, it was a very successful weekend. I miss Colorado, I can't believe I'm actually saying that. When we got there, I hated it. It snowed in September and we only had summer clothes. We couldn't find any water to camp by besides a reservoir and you couldn't just drive in to the woods next to the river to find a place like we did at home. But, the snowboarding was awesome, and so were the summers. It is far from my beaches, and everyone knows how I love the beach, but it really is beautiful there, and so much less high strung. People aren't in a rush to get anywhere, and there is never any traffic. If there is, it's because of an accident or just bottlenecking - and even then it's only about 10 minutes of a delay. There's only one highway. The state is square, so you know if the mountains are on your left, you're going North. Easy as that. Not here. I can't even picture where I am on the map. The landscaping sucks, I'm not going to lie. No one likes paying a retarded water bill just because you have to water your grass twice a day to keep it green. I especially hate that our back yard is all dirt, and filled with red ants and burrs. It's not very dog friendly. Apparently she loves roaming around in the woods, and dad lets her. We don't have woods in Colorado. Just a fenced in dirt back yard with burrs. We're terrible dog parents. But, the dog parks in CO are to die for. There is only one in Fredericksburg, and apparently you can only go there if you are a resident. Sadie will be so excited to go back to Bear Creek, that's for sure! If we could move Colorado Springs to the East coast, it would be perfect :)

We were convinced we'd miss our connecting flight home, but thankfully we got in early, and didn't.

Jason and I returned to our normal routine. I totally did not want to get up the next morning and go with him to PT, but I thought, it's only fair.

He got casted again today, for a new socket. I think we calculated that tomorrow will be exactly one month since he's started walking. His leg is shrinking pretty fast, and apparently it will for the next 4 months. So who knows how many more of these we will have to go through. I worry that as his leg shrinks, the bone becomes more prominent. I don't want too much rubbing to happen or worse, having to go back to surgery to reshape the bone.

His progress really is amazing.

There is this other guy, we'll call him Red Beard, because that's the name Jason gave him before he learned his real name. He has a full grown beard, and the exact same injury as Jason minus the fingers, left leg and arm. At least that's all that's noticeable. So basically he just has the below the knee amputation. Anyway, Jason immediately assumed he was Special Forces because of the beard. And he put him on this pedestal. Because apparently, special forces guys are like Gods in the Army. The longer we've been here though, and have been watching people work out, including him, we've realized they are so not special. We actually learned he is in the Navy, and was EOD, but working with the Army Special Forces I think. So all the while Jason is thinking this guy is hardcore and he's striving to be better than him in PT, and he's no such thing. And the more we watch and listen and talk to him, the more we realize how not motivated he is. Or how much more motivated Jason is. Either one. Today he wasn't wearing his leg, just because he didn't feel like it. He uses crutches still and has a pretty good limp still too. Jason decided using the crutches and cane make you limp more because they're there. I mean, who am I though, criticizing like this. But I just think it's interesting, and extremely admirable that this whole time, he was looking up to this guy, and now we both realize how much more motivated my one and only is.

It hasn't even been three months. He's up and walking, without a cane or crutches, and not only that, but lunging, squatting, doing agility drills, and walking around all day on his leg like nothing is wrong. All the doctors are impressed. Let's hope that gets us out of here ASAP. I can't wait to get back to our life in our own house.

Speaking of that though, we were talking about it the other day. How weird will it be when we do finally go back. It's like we're in this little bubble here. In college kind of, at least the living situation. We live in a dorm, and get up and walk to his appointments every day, come back and eat at the dining hall, and then play Yahtzee or take a nap. Either college or a retirement community, take your pick. Ha.

I went to the maternity store, and he came out with a book, me with nothing. So cute. He really wanted this book called Don't Just Stand There. About what to do when I'm in labor, etc. I'm excited that he's trying to get in to this whole pregnancy thing. We're taking an infant care class tomorrow. I'm kind of excited about that. Something different for the week.

I've heard through the grapevine that some people think this blog is negative or depressing. I have to know that by putting my feelings out there for the world to see, that someone will have that opinion. And I'm trying to have the opinion that I just don't care what other people think. I'm not writing it for people to feel bad for me, I'm writing it so that we will have something to look back on, and share with our children about the path our life took so soon in our relationship. Jason doesn't read it anyway, he says "I'm going through it, why read about it?!" Which is understandable. One day he might read it, or not, either way, it doesn't matter.

That said, I think I've written enough for one post. I hope it's been more pleasurable reading this time around ;)

Jason's Perspective

2011-10-25T12:16:00.003-04:00

Below is Jason's recollection of what happened when he stepped on that land mine. He never lost consciousness. He says it was just like any other day - he thought they would go out and safely find another land mine like they had been doing for the past weeks.

13August2011

Agrhandab River Valley near Kandahar, Afghanistan

I woke up at 0530 to get ready for the patrol that was at 0630. So at 0630, seven guys including myself of first squad and four Afghan Army guys left the gate with our two shitty cheap metal detectors. We got to our objective at about 0700 which was a trail surrounded by two walls and a canal in the center of the trail. If you wanted to picture it, it looks like a big dirt wall with a trail that goes by it, then there's a canal that goes by it for irrigation. On the other side of the canal, there's a trail with another wall on the end of it. So it's like two lanes of traffic separated by a median. So once we got on the trail we decided that it was time to start clearing the trail for any land mines that the Taliban so thoughtfully placed in order to hurt us. Once we started clearing, we started using our little techniques that work out well like once you get a high ping on the metal detector you start probing. Probing means getting on all fours with a fixed blade knife firmly with a gentle grip, stabbing the ground at a 45 degree angle, searching for anything solid other than dirt and rock. So we then got SGT Chaisson, my Alpha team leader, up front in the column with PVT Higgins. They approach a suspected hot spot for mines and decide to probe the area. At which point I stopped, since I was the third back in the column. I decide to probe also, in a small circle surrounding me. I don't find anything. I stand up, waiting for the column to resume moving forward. We start to move forward, and as we move, I look back in order to see if the rest of the squad is moving with us. I pivot on my right foot. I hear a loud pop, but not loud enough to make your ears ring or make everything sound muffled. At the same time I was flying through the air. I didn't understand what was happening. I hit the ground, landing on my left shoulder and my helmet was wedged between a wall and tree trunk. My eyes were open the whole time and I remember seeing a thick cloud of dust. I didn't see anybody moving. I didn't understand what had happened. I started to realize a land mine had gone off, but I didn't think I was the one that stepped on it. I thought I was just next to someone when it had gone off. Then I started trying to move, and I started to feel a really intense burning all over my body. It had a very distinct smell, and I will never forget it. I tried to roll over on to my back, and once I did that I saw SGT Chaisson crawling towards me. I sat up to see what was going on, and that's when I saw my right leg for the first time. All I could see was an obvious slack in my pants, couldn't see my boot, and a little bit of blood. I looked at my left hand and saw blood running down the back of it. And I noticed I couldn't really open my left eye. That's when it really started to hurt, because I finally understood what was happening. And then I started screaming. A lot. At first I was screaming very hysterically "I don't want to die!" then I started screaming "I need my wife!" or "I need my mom!" I was wondering "what will I do now? I have a baby coming." I was a blubbering heap of crying. At that point, Doc Beyersdorf also crawled to me as well as PVT Higgins. SGT Chaisson put a tourniquet on my right remaining leg. And that's when I saw LT Kunkel standing over me, I said "It's alright sir, everything will be fine." I also told PVT Higgins, "It's not your fault, you're doing a really good job, keep it up and find the rest of these mines." Then the morphine came. The pain dulled out, but not totally, I could still feel it. Every other minute or so I'd find myself screaming and then calming down again. Chaisson, Higgins, and I don't know who else lifted me over a wall and put me in a clearing of the surrounding orchard. I heard the helicopter coming. They loaded me in to the helicopter and I remember the helicopter blowing dirt and leaves in to my face. It seemed like it lifted off but my legs were still hanging still half way out. The flight medics pulled me in. When I was laying in the helicopter, I looked straight up, and saw a guy with a flight helmet and black tinted visor looking at me, and then I faded out.

The next time I woke up I was in a hospital bed in Kandahar City with a two star general and what seemed like fifty other field grade ranking officers pinning a purple heart on to my hospital gown. They all shook my hand and said I did a great job, and that my guys did a great job, and they would look forward to seeing me again when I'm better. I was in Kandahar for probably about a day and then I flew to Bagram Air Force Base which is in Afghanistan still. I don't remember being there at all. Then I flew to Landsthul, Germany. That was the first time I was really coherent. They were giving me clothes and all the Red Cross volunteers were trying to force gift certificates down my throat. I was only there for about a day I think. Then they stuck me on a Stratotanker which is a giant refueling airplane. So they crammed 16 of us in to this small cargo compartment. When we were flying it felt like it was 112 degrees, and I was in tons of pain. They would only give me 2mg of Morphine which for a 200lb man, does nothing. Finally landed in America at Andrews Air Force Base. Where I was loaded on to an 8 passenger ambulance and was taken to the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda. One of the first to go directly there instead of to Walter Reed. When I was unloaded from the ambulance I looked around and saw my dad and my brother, they saw me and touched the bed, and I saw my brother who was in a 'semi cry'. They were probably expecting a bloody mess. I only saw them for a couple of minutes and then I was wheeled off to my room to get x-rays and labs.

This would be the beginning of a very long road to recovery.

homemade cupcakes are better

2011-10-24T16:55:00.003-04:00

This weekend we didn't do too much. We went to the National Museum of American History and only made it through about half of it before we were both tired and no longer interested. He walked the whole time, without his cane. He said his left leg was more tired than his right, probably from the compensating. But, we took the metro in to DC and back, so that was an adventure in itself. I was uncharacteristically calm that day which I decided was how I would always have to be if we ever took kids on the metro or to a big city with all the hustle and bustle. It's much more relaxing when you're not in a rush and don't have a time frame to go by. Or maybe I should just always be like that.

Yesterday my parents came up. That usually always stresses me out. Nothing like a mother to push all your buttons at the same time, and immediately after arriving. I think only mothers are capable of that. I love her dearly, though. Jason often has to remind me "She's just trying to help..." We went to downtown Bethesda and found a Barnes & Noble. A childbirth book was recommended to me by a friend, and I was on a mission. We spent the whole time in the kids section and Jason bought a Halloween book for baby boy. I think it looks a little scary, but mom says it's OK because it won the Caldecott medal so it must be good. Ha. I got my nephew a couple books and a lego game thing - he's turning 8. I really doubt eight year olds enjoy getting books for their birthdays, but they have so. many. toys. This was a three story B&N...I could've been in there for a long time. Then we walked down the street and found a satellite location of Georgetown Cupcake which was featured on the TLC show DC Cupcake. We paid $15 for 6 cupcakes and saved them for dessert. We found a trendy restaurant that didn't look too terribly formal or expensive, and tried it for dinner. Not impressive. Just OK. And then came back "home" to eat our cupcakes. My dad stayed behind because he hates shopping and didn't want to come with us. We were not impressed with the cupcakes either. But, I guess we had our famous experience.

Back to the daily grind today. I did not want to get out of bed this morning. I randomly wake up and cannot fall back asleep these days. This morning it was at 0430. I browsed Facebook and played Words with Friends. It felt like I had just fallen asleep and Jason's alarm went off. I always have to wake him up to turn it off. I never used to have to do this. But thankfully it was a relatively short day. Just meeting with his nurse case manager, PT, then OT. Tomorrow he has the same, plus wound care, minus the case manager. But he also signed up for an Army Marksmanship Unit training which is all day tomorrow and Wednesday. That should be interesting. He loves Top Shot, and apparently he always scores perfect at the ranges they do. I've never seen him in action. I would love to go shooting with him just for fun at a range though. I think they do those kind of trips here, but we haven't been able to go yet.

Baby is big. Well, not big enough, but much more noticeable. Last week we went to the doctor, and all is still well. Fluid looks good. She didn't measure my cervix again because she said they stop that after 28 weeks since baby is viable. So that was a little scary. But he was head down, and heartbeat was in the 140s. Now when I feel something hard up on the top of my uterus, I know it's his butt. I love watching him make my belly lopsided at night when I'm laying in bed. It's still crazy that there's a human growing in there. I don't know if it hasn't hit me yet or what, but I cannot commit to a name. Connor? Austin? Carter? Owen? Colin? Declan? Cooper? Just too many choices.

His nurse case manager was talking to him about convalescent leave today. Thirty days of 'freedom'. But not really, because he'll still have to go to appointments and such, they'll just arrange for him to go wherever he takes his con leave. Personally, I think this is silly. Why are you going to make someone take leave and then oh by the way you still have to go to all these appointments. That's not much of a vacation. He's like "Oh yeah, so you can go back to Colorado and all, since you have a house out there." Yeah, but all his friends are deployed, he's not sure if he'll be able to drive his car since it's a manual, and I'm going to be pretty pregnant by then, not sure if I can fly. So we go out to Colorado and go to appointments and sit at home? That's the same thing we do here. Or do we go "home" to KG/Bowling Green and have to divide our time between parents houses? That gets old. Or do we just stay here? So many choices. I asked if he could take it after the baby comes - but they said it's supposed to be a healing time for him, to rest after all his treatments. Understandable. We're thinking maybe he'll take it from middle of December to middle of January and then he'll have his paternity leave tacked on there as well. No clue what we'll do, though.

So many things still to do - apply for VA grant for his car, TSGLI, seating clinic for custom wheelchair that takes forever, etc. On the bright side, we're down to one finger bandage - the ring finger graft looks beautiful. It's just a matter of getting the range of motion back in that finger. He seems to think it will never happen. I think it will. One day. He did push ups today for the first time. He did about 10, and then wanted me to time him for two minutes to see if he could do 42. He then did about 15 and decided he was done. "Well, I wouldn't pass a PT test right now." Duh. No one expects you too! But that's a good goal, honey :)

He got a box today with some of the personal belongings we requested. Finally. The rest of his stuff is still in Kandahar because the Army hasn't signed their DHL contract yet or whatever. I emailed his RearD CO about getting at least his wallet back because it has is license and debit card and all. They ended up sending us his computer with the charger, digital camera, old cell phone and charger, iPod and charger, and wallet. Whoever packed that box went above and beyond, and he's very excited to have his music back. I have to say, over the two years he's been with this company I have not been impressed with his leadership, but the RearD and all the administrative people we've dealt with throughout this process have been absolutely fabulous. I only hope it stays that way as he transitions back to wherever he's going.

This song has probably been out for a while, but I caught the lyrics today. Now I'm buying it on iTunes.

"She got the call today

One out of the gray

And when the smoke cleared

It took her breath away

She said she didn't believe

It could happen to me

I guess, we're all one phone call away

From our knees

We're gonna get there soon..."

emotional

2011-10-18T16:19:00.004-04:00

I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a bed sore on my ass after today. I've been in bed most of the day. Having a pity party. Moping. Whatever you'd like to call it.

Jason and I have not been ourselves lately, and it's starting to take its toll on both of us. This is hard. Everyone said it would be, we knew it would be, we've said ourselves that it would be. So why is it such a shocker that it's happening to us? I guess I thought that if we could make it through the first couple of months, while he was inpatient, then we could make it through anything. It seems to be quite the opposite. Which now, looking back, is rather obvious. Of course I would be more patient and loving in the beginning, of course I would want to be there for everything and help him with everything in his most incredible time of need. And then you get burnt out. Duh. They preach this crap in nursing school. Apparently I think I'm invisible.

Then, I had an escape. The Navy Lodge. It was a miserable escape, but it was away from the hospital. He didn't get an escape, and he's still trucking along. Now, we're together. Like married couples are supposed to be. We wake up together, and go to appointments together (but not mine because there is never enough time for him to be able to go to both), eat every meal together, and go to bed together, and wake up and do it all over again. Together. Therein lies the problem. At least that's what we both suspect.

We are reading Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. I think I'm from Mars sometimes though. It's a helpful book. But only when you read it and are reminded of how different the opposite sex things and feels. You then, quickly forget. Like when you're in the car driving off the beltway and getting all turned around because you came off a different exit than you went on - and when your husband used to always drive everywhere, and hates the way you drive, and mumbles directions so you can't hear or understand what he's saying ("go this way." thanks, because i know what way THIS way is!) - it just turns in to a blown out of proportion argument. Didn't there used to be a game show about newlyweds and communication? We probably wouldn't win that show. Just saying. But, it's just scary, to be here, in this situation with so many unknowns, a baby on the way, and then to be feeling like your marriage may not survive. Or are we just being too sensitive? Another one of both of our issues. Or do we have entirely too much time to think about it?

It's hard to go out and do things on my own. I literally have anxiety about leaving him alone. This is not good. He is not a child. I don't know if its a little underlying nervousness that he could have not come home at all, and so I'm scared to leave him at all now. I worry. I worry about his meds, making sure he takes them, making sure he gets to all of his appointments on time. Making sure his leg feels ok, he's not in pain, he eats enough protein and not too much salt. I don't want him to feel alone, or like I abandoned him because I can drive and he can't. Maybe the baby will take some of the focus off him, and I'm sure he will enjoy every minute of that.

But what about us? Where do we go from here? It seems like we have this argument or discussion over and over again. When does it get solved?

For the past 3 weeks we have been on a hunt for a freaking compression sock. You would think in this giant medical facility everywhere would have them. This is not the case. One clinic sends us to another clinic who says "oh this clinic will definitely have them." That clinic calls the main distribution center (where we've already been) and as he's on the phone I tell him to ask for extra large because we've already been down there and they didn't have any. Yes, I understand if the main distribution place doesn't have them, why would anywhere else. But, how often do you give out XL compression socks? Someone has got to have them stocked somewhere. So he doesn't ask the question I ask him to ask, and I get so livid. Like 0-60 in 2 seconds. I just turn around and leave.

Earlier in the day, Jason overslept which is unlike him, but we are weaning off the narcotics and he woke up multiple times in the middle of the night in pain. He finally let me give him a short acting pill around 3am so he could sleep. We want the pills to go away, but we can't let the pain interrupt sleep. I don't know if that threw him off a little or what, but either way he woke up with about 20 minutes to spare. I was awake, and was planning to wake him up, but must have also fallen back asleep. So, I didn't have time to shower and get over there with him. I decided not to go to his first two appointments. They tell us NMA's we're supposed to go to every appointment with them, but it's just becoming too much, and too smothering. All I do at PT and OT is sit there with him and play legos or walk laps. I'm not saying I'll never go back, but I don't think I need to go with him every morning. Anyway, I meet him over there at 11 for his hand appointment - hoping to get the final 2 pins out of his finger. No such luck, bone is healing, but slowly, want to wait until the skin graft heals more before pulling on the finger to get the pins out. Fine by us. Still hoping they won't have to do a bone graft, but only time will tell. Wound care has been doing wonders for his fingers, and they look amazing in just the two short weeks we've been seeing them. He went from dead tissue and exposed tendon to beautiful healing granulation tissue. Exciting. Then we went to the counter where we spoke to the man who called about the compression sock - that's when I left. So, today I only made it about an hour with him before I got too pissed and irritated. I even prayed for patience today. It didn't work. I just went outside and sat. And when he didn't follow me, I went back to the room where none of our keys work and had to get let in by someone. I've been here ever since. Moping.

I want to be pregnant and emotional. I want to be pissed without having to have a reason. I want to have a scowl on my face all day long just because I can. I'm tired of people asking if I'm okay because I "look tired". Sorry, I didn't pack my make up when I left Colorado over 2 months ago. And even if I did, you sure as hell wouldn't catch me putting it on every morning. And, thanks for reminding me that I look like shit on a daily basis.

I want us to go back to 2009, when we were still dating, or engaged, and our biggest problem was getting the Army to move all my crap to Colorado even though we weren't married. When we laughed all the time, and actually liked being around each other instead of walking on eggshells every waking moment. When we had something to talk about, and we had our own place, and our own friends. We had our own life. Now we don't.

i wish i wish i wish i want i want i want - it's all I ever seem to do anymore, and I should have learned to appreciate the small things by now. What in the world is wrong with me?!

Month 2

2011-10-13T20:06:00.002-04:00

I can't believe it's been 2 months since he stepped on a stupid land mine. I'll probably say this for every month that passes until we are back in a normal routine.

Normal routine.

That got me thinking today. What is going to be normal anymore anyway? Will we go back to Colorado? Will we return to our jobs and go on like we were before he left last May? We'll have a baby of course, so that will be a lot different. What will his 'job' entail if we do go back to Colorado?

Some big Command Sergeant Major or whatever they're called came today to visit. He said he would let Col Keenan know that we wanted to come back - she's the Col of the whole hospital at Carson. The hospital I happened to work at. Hopefully he puts a good word in for me too, ha. I know there is a WTB there, but I'm pretty sure they can't do too much as far as amputee care. Hopefully by the time we are able to go back, he won't need that anymore. But he'll be in a WTB unit - what exactly do they do all day for 'work'? Will he hate it and regret his decision?

How can I possibly think about going back to work right now? (because I'm going crazy, but that's besides the point) I can't imagine dropping my baby boy off at day care. I can barely leave my dog at day care. I just loooove makin that money! And feeling useful of course. And I do enjoy my job. I feel knowledgable when I'm at work, like I have something important to say, and people will actually listen to me.

I'm feeling selfish these days. I'm tired, too. Tired of this 'routine'. PT, OT, Wound Care, Hand Surgeon, Primary Care Doc, Inprocessing, etc. But I don't feel like I can tell him that because he's got to be tired of it too. Probably about a million more times tired of it than I could ever be. I just want to have my husband back. Want to be able to go out without worrying about whether or not he's in pain, or going to be in pain, or whether or not our plans will have to be cut short because he can't handle any more.

We did go to dinner tonight, and he walked. Let me tell you how wonderful it was to not have to get that stupid wheelchair in to the back of the jeep, back out again, back in again, and back out again. Ugh. But it has been literally two months since he stepped on a freaking land mine, and he's walking out to dinner with me. Definitely didn't think the recovery would be this fast, and I am so grateful for it. Sometimes I wonder if it's too fast though. He walked a mile and a half in PT today. His leg got sore after dinner. I don't know if it was the weather, or sitting for a while making it swell up, or what. But we couldn't go get ice cream like I wanted :( When can I be dropped off at the door while my husband goes to park the car? When can I be the one with the umbrella instead of him because he has an electric wheelchair that can't get wet? When is it my turn?

I feel like a 5 year old when I write this stuff. Feel so selfish and stupid for even thinking it. I want flowers, presents, and surprises again. I want my romantic husband back. I feel like I'm fighting with appointments to get time in with him. Guess I'll just have to make an appointment too.

Either way, this past month has had a lot of milestones. Walking is the main one. Now, I can look back and say "Wow, remember when we were sitting in your hospital room thinking we'd never get out?" I remember the routine of wiping him down with the special 'before surgery' wipes at midnight at least every couple of days. He had so many surgeries. We had a bath routine, too. And by bath, I mean him sitting in a chair in front of the sink so I could wash his hair for him. I remember when he couldn't feel anything because he had a nerve block and an epidural, but he was still in pain. I remember when he had night sweats every night, shortly after he got here. Or when pooping was an all day ordeal. I remember trying to keep up with all his meds, which was almost impossible. I could've been a little lazy about it too. But I do remember the multiple medication errors I prevented. Not to toot my own horn or anything. But it's a true story.

Maybe we'll hit up the White House on Sunday. You know, just hang with Obama, maybe chill in the Oval Office for a bit. Ha. But we really might get to go there.

I am excited to see what the next month has in store for us. So that I can look back on this day and say "Wow, I remember when he just started walking, and it was still so hard..." Look what we've accomplished in two months, I wonder where we'll be a year from now.

Maybe then we'll be really on the road to recovery. Both of us.

Legos are therapy?

2011-10-11T23:01:00.003-04:00

It's been a few days since I posted last. I think these may be able to be spaced out a little more now that our life is a little more monotonous.

We went down to KG for the holiday weekend, which was nice. It happened to be the Fall Festival weekend as well. I haven't been to one of those parades in quite some time. It hasn't changed a bit. People didn't stare as much as I thought they would. Kids did, though, but that's to be expected. One almost got himself hit by a car because he was staring so hard. It was kind of funny, I'm not going to lie. I was just waiting for his dad to get his attention. The kid just was staring, like burning a hole in Jason's leg, and walking at the same time, and almost walked in to a (slowly) reversing car. Then, we almost got backed over because a giant truck didn't see him, or me pushing him, as the parade was ending. People are always in a hurry. The chaos here in our small town was a little surprising when the parade was coming to a close. You can tell it's over because everyone starts walking back. So we're packing up to go, (we brought Sadie too) and this sherif on a bike rides by and is like "Hey can you all move to let these cars get through? Thanks." I was just in shock a little. Really? Give us a freaking chance! It's not like we're sitting here watching the grass grow, we're trying to leave. Ugh. Everyone is in a rush. It's irritating.

Another reason we're ready to go back to Colorado.

All this talk about going back to Colorado, if we ever do get to go back, I sure hope it's how we remember it! Otherwise I'll be supremely disappointed!

I'm trying to find a weekend to fly out there and pack boxes of a few things we need. Such as winter clothes. I am just straight up lazy, and I don't want to deal with it. So I'm tempted to just make do this winter. We've already accumulated so much stuff. I don't even know how.

Anyway at home, we traveled between my moms house and his dads house. We slept at his dads house because it is newer, and much more wheelchair friendly. Making plenty of mental notes about how our dream house will be built. And all the doorways, hallways and rooms will be wheelchair friendly *just in case*. He says next time we go home, he'll be walking through the doors instead of crawling up and down the stairs :)

We bought some baby clothes at a consignment shop I discovered. Went to The Melting Pot - yum. Played some games, and watched Philly sports loose miserably, much to his fathers dismay. He got some good Sadie time in, so that was good. I can't tell you how tired I am of lifting that wheelchair in and out of the car. It's not that heavy, it's just so awkward to lift without scratching my car! Building muscles for the stroller :)

Bought our first box of diapers and wipes this weekend. Guess I will just go with disposables for now.

Registration is renewed. Thank goodness. Now I don't know why I didn't just send two copies of everything to get Jason's car done too. Looks like I will have to do it all again for his. Ugh.

Apparently there is an NRP Renewal in 2 days...Jason's nurse case manager was trying to get me in it. Now I'm worried I won't pass, and I'll make an ass out of myself in front of all these strangers for how much I can't remember! But, I'd rather renew it then take the whole class over again. If I have to, I have to I guess.

Yes, Obama came to Walter Reed. No, we did not see him. I'm sure he was here for about 15 minutes total. And he only cares to see the soldiers who are still inpatient. We overheard someone say "You have to have an IV in in order for the President to visit you." Bummer. haha.

If all goes as planned (can you believe I'm still saying that), we'll be back in Colorado sometime after baby is born (hopefully before our lease is up) in order for Jason to start his MedBoard process. He'll be assigned to the WTB there until they decide if he's able to return to duty. Depending on when we go back, I'm not sure if I'll go back to work or not. I would definitely go back if they'd let me come back part time, but I have a sinking feeling that won't be the case.

We played legos tonight. We started doing it in OT today, and decided we should probably buy some just for fun :) I haven't played with legos in forever, and I don't think I've ever followed lego directions. I always just had my brothers left overs which were in a huge bag all mixed together. If he uses his left hand, it is good OT though, so that's a nice plus.

We're trying really hard to come up with a name for this baby. Still nothing permanent. Should probably look in to taking some classes in regards to delivering this baby. Blahhhhhhhh

I liked our boring life before this boring life. We're together 24/6/365. We don't have to be, but I miss him terribly when I do leave him. I liked that we both had our works to go to. It didn't seem like 'getting away' then, but it does now. Neither of us have a getaway now. Now it's just appointments. I know that doesn't sound boring and terrible, but it is not a normal life. And the whole system is just so screwy, I wish I could be commander in chief for a day :)

He had his leg on for about 2 hours today. We're slowly increasing it. He did laps with a cane. Laps by himself. Laps sidestepping, walking backwards, and regular. He walked on grass, up stairs, down stairs, and in the mud. Overall, eventful day as far as walking! He's preparing for the grapevines tomorrow :)

one foot forward...

2011-10-05T16:04:00.001-04:00

He walked for the first time today since August 13th :)

We got the 2x4 he's had for a hand removed for good. We watched her throw the splint in the trash. Did you hear me? In. The. Trash. His left hand and arm are definitely very weak. You can even see his wrist bone because of all the atrophy. I'm sure he'll gain that strength back eventually. We're working on range of motion of the fingers. He got two pins out yesterday - he says the worst pain he's felt to date. It was pretty painful to watch him be in that much pain. He said he thought the doctor was joking when he pulled out the pliers. Apparently he'll never make a fist again with that hand. There was talk of bone grafting and possibly re doing one of the skin grafts. Frustrations. That will all be months from now though, if the healing hasn't gotten any better. Yippee more surgeries.

So we spent a lot of today doing wound care, and scraping the thick layer of dead skin off his hand. That is pretty foul. But I do enjoy doing it. Got a new splint for just the two fingers.

Then he got his first leg!

He stood up and walked back and forth and back and forth in the parallel bars. He was in awe the whole time I think, that he was walking. He said he was feeling some phantom pains. I would imagine so if you're standing, but you know you're not standing on your foot because it isn't there. I can't imagine how that feels - to be standing but can't feel the floor under you. It's definitely going to take some getting used to, although he thought he could just run right out of there. We went over to the PT room then, and did some more walking in the parallel bars. Side ways, backwards, forwards. Bob (our physical therapist) could tell he was itching to walk farther. He started around the track, but then started feeling some pain. It's hard to tell now whether or not it's normal pain or not normal pain. And I certainly don't know what's normal for them to be feeling at this stage. So PT keeps his leg for about a week and he'll gradually increase his time in it just for safety. I guess a lot of guys have gone home with their leg and worn it too much too soon and hurt themselves more. So it's probably a good thing because he'd probably be one of those guys.

Hopefully by the end of next week we'll have it in our possession. It was weird to see him walking again, that's for sure. And a true testament to how long this process will be.

I told Joe (his Occupational Therapist) he needs to get a baby doll with diapers so he can practice changing those :)

Just short of two months, and he's already walking. He's doing so great. I know he can't see it, he can't see the progress he's made. He's so very frustrated with the long drawn out process. And even now that he's an E6, he still has to call his squad leader every morning to check in like a private would have to do. We had to go to a brief this morning. Which was interrupted by a fire drill in which they said we had to evacuate. Great. And oh by the way you have to wait for the firefighters to carry you out because you can't go down the elevator in a wheelchair. I've never seen him look so depressed as he was in that moment. I can't imagine what he must have been feeling. A 25 year old man sitting in a wheelchair with his head down so far because he's embarrassed that he can't just walk down the stairs like everyone else, and has to be carried out instead. As if he hasn't gone through enough, lets just play Army a little more, jerks. They ended up not making us evacuate which is good because I was about to go express my feelings to someone with a high rank on their chest. Ha.

Overall a great day for progress here. But, still every night we lay in bed and wonder what we did to deserve this kind of life. He says "We're nice people. We've never done anything wrong. Why did this have to happen to us?!" I quite agree. Not how I pictured bringing a baby 'home'.

It's the little things you don't think about. Why would you? Like the freezing cold bathroom floor because we can't have rugs in there because the wheelchair wouldn't be able to go over them. Like how the handicapped access doors are locked, or don't work, or are very inconvenient.

I went to get a placard for parking my car here on base. "Ma'am your registration is expired." Yes, I know this. I explained what happened, and how in Colorado you have an extra month to renew it. "Well we can't give you one if it's expired." Oh, ok thanks for your help. Asshole. I mean really? What are the odds of that - 1 in 12 I guess that the month he gets hurt, is right when I need to renew that stupid thing. So now I've sent my paperwork twice, and I think we're just going to go ahead and send it all in a third time for his car, just to get it done and avoid any late fees.

Even if we only have three appointments in the morning, somehow we still manage to be out until at least 4pm every day. It's like a full time job, no lie. There is no way I could ever work and be here for him. This shit is all.day.long. And it is exhausting.

We are ready for it to be done. Ready to go back to Colorado. Ready to have our dog and our old life back.

I haven't been nesting. In fact, I haven't really been thinking about the baby at all, except to make sure he's still moving in there. And that makes me feel bad. Sometimes I still forget I'm pregnant. Until I see myself in the mirror of course. Oh, and I went back to the doctor yesterday, a different one, who said everything is measuring fine still, at 3cm and not dilated. Go back in another two weeks to make sure, and hopefully we won't have to do any more cervical lengths for a while.

So anyway, that makes me a little nervous. He's going to creep up on us pretty quickly I think, and then life will become that much more difficult. We have no clue for a name. He will be Searles, Male for a while probably...

movie day

2011-10-02T00:02:00.003-04:00

We watched SWAT starting at 0830. Then 127 Hours. Then A Cinderella Story with Hillary Duff - he thinks she's hot. Then Top Gun. Then U-571. Then we decided to go out and pay for a movie. But we really just should've stayed in bed. Now we're watching Italian Job.

Let me just give you a little insight as to how our days or nights go.

1800

After laying in bed all day, besides when we went upstairs for 'brunch', we decide to go to a movie.

1815

Decide we don't have enough time to eat first, before the 1950 movie, so nuke some bagel bites, stand in kitchen and eat them, and drink mello yello. healthy.

1830

Go get car, it's cold, and raining, pull around, load Jason, then load awkward wheelchair.

1835

Crap, movie starts at 1920, not 50.

1840

Encounter on base roadwork, detour all around BFE. Finally get to gate which actually lets us turn left, which is nice for once.

1850

Movie theater is only 1.5 miles away, but still have to find parking...in a city.

1900

Finally make it in parking garage, turn right - dead end - in a parking garage? really? No handicapped hangy thing still, so go down two levels and find a spot. Jason has to hop up a step to get to where the elevators are. Nice. Then it takes us to the inside of some office building, in which he has to go down 5 more stairs before finally getting to the sidewalk. Except that now we're on the opposite side of the garage. Getting frustrated.

1918

I say - "The movie will probably be sold out with our luck tonight."

1920

Get in line for tickets. Sign says Moneyball showing is sold out, but that's not what we wanted to see. (Movie is starting now, by the way) "Oh, that one is sold out too" she says with a smile on her face. Of course. (We wanted to see 50/50)

1925

Decide to go see 'What's Your Number' instead. Starts in 5 minutes. Not excited about spending money on that one. I considered it a red box movie.

1930

Navigate around a billion more staring jerks, get old popcorn and giant drinks like usual, and finally make it to the theater which is already dark of course because they're showing previews.

Thankfully we find a seat right in the back. But not so thankful that it happened to be right next to that really annoying movie goer guy who laughs really loud when no one else does, makes unnecessary comments during movie instead of just watching movie, sings along to all the soundtrack songs, and did I mention, laughs really loud when no one else does?

Never going to a movie on a Saturday night in Bethesda again.

Needless to say - we're chalking this up to life experience. And taking in to account where we never want to live. Ever. I am apparently no city girl. Hate. It. Everywhere you go, there is a process. And even more of a process because of our situation. I often think this is preparing me for motherhood in a not so nice way.

Last night we went to Target. Apparently my husband has forgotten what it's like to be married to me. We were there until they closed. He was so tired when we left. But he never complained. At every item, I stood there for about 5 minutes deciding whether or not it was really necessary. I do not want to clog this 'apartment' up with clutter, only to have to move it all back out in who knows how many months. He's not ready for the all day or night shopping trips I guess. And, baby won't be either. It's going to be a huge life adjustment. Not being able to just up and go, and go for however long I can stand. Have to prepare for everything, or be prepared for anything. I kind of feel that way now though. Have to remember to bring along his pills, just in case. And his as needed pain pills just in case. Hand sanitizer since he touches yucky things and can't really wash his hands because he only has one at the moment. Nothing like a baby would need - but I'm getting practice getting a wheelchair in and out of the car, so a stroller should be no problem! But, I definitely won't be able to wander around Target for 3 hours contemplating whether or not I really need something either.

Oh, and I got a parking 'warning.' Thank goodness it wasn't a ticket. At least I don't think it's a ticket.

And, the DMV never got the 59 bazillion papers I had to fill out, copy, or get notarized for them to renew our registration for the Jeep I have out here. Did I mention that already? So, I'm going to fill them out again, mail it certified, and make copies of everything. Now I'm wondering what I'm supposed to do about his Jeep. It's sitting in the garage, but it will need to be renewed if I go out there and expect to drive it. But, will the insurance know if we haven't gotten it renewed? Do you have to get it renewed if you're not driving it? We're still paying it off. Hm. I hate the DMV.

You know when people say they feel like the whole world is against them? We, as a couple, are magnets to bad shit happening. Maybe we have very pessimistic outlooks on life. Maybe there is something psychologically wrong with us. I think that is a psych diagnosis actually - if you feel like everyone is against you. But how could you look at our situation and all the mumbo jumbo we deal with on a daily basis, and not think that? Where is the positive in all this? It is absolutely miserable! At least we're in it together. And at this point, we're starting to just expect it - which probably isn't good, but maybe if bad things don't happen and we expect them to, it will be a good day.

I blame todays misery on the weather. Yeah, that sounds like a good excuse :)

building 62

2011-09-29T21:32:00.002-04:00

Have I mentioned that this sucks?

Well, it does.

It seems as though when we reach a new milestone, it comes with all kinds of really high hurdles to jump over. We've been anticipating discharge for over 6 weeks now. It came yesterday, and with it came a billion appointments and new things to put on our to do list. As if we don't have enough to worry about.

And oh by the way, someone else told us "No, you probably won't PCS here. You'll be attached for at least 180 days, and then we'll decide. But you can go back to Colorado for your MedBoard process if you want." Over.It.

My dog pees in my parents house. They shouldn't have to deal with that. I still haven't gotten our new Colorado registration stickers which expire after tomorrow. I already feel bad for the cop who pulls me over for that. Now we don't know when he can start school because we don't know where we'll be or for how long. I'm worried about him having some TBI. This is not home. Showering in a handicapped shower is miserable. His wheelchair runs in to everything. I need to go to Target like whoa, but there are too many appointments.

Yesterday I went to L&D Triage because they've made me paranoid with this whole cervical shortening and funneling thing. The doctor there measured it at over 3cm which is perfectly normal. Frustrating. But, hopefully one less thing to worry about.

I finally verbalized my frustrations I guess. I need Jason to let me take care of everything, and I need to organize his appointments and medications. But I also need him to try to be involved in trying to remember everything too. Just because I have an innate need to organize and control things, I need him to at least try, instead of letting me take the reins. Then I feel like I'm the only one doing it, and then I feel like my head is going to explode. He recognizes this. And I'm so very thankful for that. I need to figure out a way to express my frustrations without making him feel incompetent and useless.

I am a little worried though. He seems very foggy. Just can't remember anything or gets confused really easily. Appointments, meetings, etc. It could very well be the medications he's on. It could also be just the mere fact that he hasn't had to remember anything for the past 6 weeks. He thinks a lot slower than he used to, and it takes him much longer than usual to focus and remember things. It usually takes me saying it a couple times before he remembers, and by then I'm frustrated and my voice has that tone that he hates. And then he feels bad because he couldn't remember.

So our day started at 0700 and was filled with nonstop appointments until we got back to the room around 1600. It seemed like every appointment we went to wanted us to schedule another appointment with another service, and all the sudden all of next week is full too. And don't forget about the wonderful inprocessing checklist we have to do. Go here, here, and here, and get their signatures. And go to these briefs. And get a new ID card ASAP. "I wouldn't want to be caught on a military base walking around without an ID card." says his squad leader. Really? You don't think this is a special situation? Or, when they issue temporary cards, make them last longer than a month. And, he'll be promoted on Saturday. So can't we just wait till Monday instead of having to go back and get another one?! Not in the Army's brain. But we'll probably wait anyway. And go to the DMV because we still can't park in any handicapped spots even though I've been really tempted. You'd think they'd have someone on base to give those out.

He's sad that he can't help. We had to move everything from the hospital and hotel room yesterday, and he couldn't really do much. Plus, the meds make him pretty tired, and he fell asleep twice throughout the evening. I don't know, but as a man, I'm pretty sure that's not what you want to be feeling.

He's got so many appointments now that I'll have to go to my appointment next week alone. And I'm sad about that. I feel like saying, "come on, I only have one, can't we work around that?!" But, it's not about me.

I need for him to be back in Afghanistan when everything was normal. Normal for us. I need for us to be the way we were. I need for him to start remembering things better. I need for him to not have any TBI. I need for him to have his foot back. I need for everyone else to realize that even the smallest, most insignificant things aren't easy anymore. I need for people to know what we're going through, because I feel like this is a very unfair distribution of life events.

Today while we were meeting with one of the doctors, he was trying to be nice by making conversation, but it didn't help. He was saying "ohh, a baby, those first few years are really hard..." great. Like we didn't think about that before we decided to do this, but we also didn't think about doing it in a foreign place with a million unknowns. Don't they say having a baby is one of the most stressful things you can do in life? So is this. I don't even want to know what else is in store for us for the rest of our lives!

Now there is no structure to my thoughts. So I'll save you from my misery and end this here. Must rest up for another full day of appointments. Can't wait for the weekend, and sleeping in!

45 days

2011-09-27T13:05:00.003-04:00

The charge nurse came in last night and said "Did you know this is your 44th hospital day?"

Boooo.

I keep saying "we've been here for a month..." but really it's more like 6 weeks now...ugh!

On the bright side, we did finally get an official room in Building 62, and we even have the key. So we're not quite sure how this works. Now we can start moving all of our junk, but I'm sure there are still plenty of hoops we need to jump through before we're officially out of here.

Some NP is in now asking him a bunch of typical questions - probably screening for PTSD type questions.

We still haven't decided on a name. Now I feel like we can think about baby more. We can start getting stuff. I swear if they tell us we're moving again anytime soon, I'm not going to be a friendly person. We're still tossing one name around, but I just can't commit. And that worries me. Maybe we will just need to see him first before we can decide. He's getting big though, now my belly looks lop sided sometimes when he moves around and he's on one side. I just hope he's still staying put like he's supposed to be, and not trying to work his way out. And of course with all the moving I'm going to want to lift stuff. And everyone keeps telling me not to. I know I shouldn't, but it's not like I'm moving furniture. Just clothes and dumb stuff. I hate it when people won't let me help.

So right now we're waiting for the docs to come by and give us some damn answers. We're hoping for at least an overnight pass for tonight. Then hopefully we can move this process along before the weekend comes and this place shuts down. I remember this baby we had in the SCN once, and we all kept saying that we felt like the doctors were just sitting on him because they weren't sure what to do. (it was a weekend) That's what it feels like now. And I hate that feeling.

Anyway, maybe I'll actually get to spend the night with my husband tonight without people coming in and out to do vitals or give meds, and we won't be squished in a twin bed. Not that I've ever spent the night here in his bed, but we usually sit in it together at night. It's not very comfortable to say the least. But neither are these chairs.

stares

2011-09-24T22:09:00.004-04:00

Last night we went to Ruth's Chris for dinner. Today we went to the mall. Jason came both places. Do you realize how good this feels? Even in its glory, it's still annoying at times. We still have to park in regular parking places because we didn't even think about asking for a handicapped hangy thing when we were begging to leave the hospital. I'll try to figure that one out next week. It's even more annoying because we really have to park pretty far away from everyone else so we have room to get the wheelchair next to the door for him too. Whatever, at least he's out.

Last night he was in a bit more pain though, because we were out late by his standards, which is 9pm. But, that's historically when his pain happens. We enjoyed an awesome (expensive) dinner though, so that was nice. Today, we tried to get out a little earlier so he'd be back in time for the night time meds. We left around 3 and were back by 8. But, a long time out! And, they gave him a couple OxyIR's to take along just in case, which was a blessing even though he was virtually pain free the whole time. His right leg did start hurting from hanging down that long though. It was nice to be able to medicate himself if needed though. The doctor also took his PCA away today. He's been going back and forth, and he definitely still used it, but mostly at night. The doc basically said 'look if you're gonna try it, you gotta go all in' so he took it all away. Which is probably true - if it was still sitting here next to his bed, it would be calling his name and I guarantee you he'd ask to be hooked up to it. It's almost like a comfort thing. He did up the night time dose of long acting Oxy though, so hopefully it will work! I'm just afraid of when the pins come out. I don't want him to be in excruciating pain again and then have to get started on it and get off of it for a third time.

Either way, the day at the mall was fun. Although Saturdays at the mall aren't exactly a blast when you're not handicapped. I just wrote it off to building my patience for when we're pushing a stroller through massive crowds of oblivious, stupid people. When we're pushing a stroller though, I'm sure people won't be straining their necks to stare at us. It was kind of ridiculous. Maybe before, people stared too, and we just didn't realize it because we weren't staring at them to see how hard they stared. Ha that was long winded...but they really do. This one guy was in front of us, craning his neck backwards staring at Jason. Really? So many times I almost said "Excuse me? Can I help you with something?" or "What the f*ck are you looking at?" (I doubt I would've said that, but I was saying it in my head.) or "Did you have a question?" or "He stepped on a land mine for your right to do stupid shit like stare at him. You're welcome. Now turn around and keep walking." I still need that t-shirt.

By the end of the day I could tell he was getting irritated with the stares. I mean, it is human nature, and ironically I caught myself staring at another person in a wheelchair. I quickly looked away, thinking "Oh shit I'm one of the people I'm hating on right now!" People naturally look at a young guy in a wheel chair and wonder why that is. Then they see the mallet he has for a hand right now, and his PICC line, and then of course his nub. And then they stare at his nub for a very long time. Jason and I both stared them down, waiting for them to make eye contact again, just to make them feel uncomfortable. Their stares never made it back up above his waist before we passed by.

Anyway, he got a new pair of shoes - more his style. Unlike the sweet Army shoes he got donated. A couple t-shirts - he can wear real clothes now! Unless he gets hooked back up to the IV or PCA. And even then, I just disconnect it and reconnect it when we change shirts. I know, I know, but whatever :)

I got some more maternity clothes, and a couple onesies for baby. I couldn't resist. They're long sleeved thermal onesies - so cute.

We're excited for a visit from Craig, Brett, and baby Max tomorrow! Will be another fun day out, hopefully!

SSG Searles!

2011-09-23T00:50:00.004-04:00

Today was exciting - Jason will finally be promoted as of Oct 1, for real this time. That will be exactly a year that he's been promotable. Who knew it'd take that long. Sheesh. It made his day, I think.

Then, they told him (after taking x-rays of his hand for the 3rd time) they were hoping to take the wound vac off tomorrow and take the pins out too! This is good news too because we were thinking the pins wouldn't come out until next week. But, we've learned not to get our hopes up. They came to his room to do the 3rd x-ray because the first two were done wrong. I really have to talk myself out of checking behind everyone, and when I don't, look what happens. I always tell myself "they're grown ups, doing their job, they know what they're doing..." I can't imagine being a parent and going through this with a child. If they messed something up twice that we had to re do with a toddler, I would be everyone's enemy in that hospital. The doctor came to the room and brought the x-ray people up to make sure it was done right the third time. I didn't realize he was a doctor, I think he may be a resident, but I was like "did you write in the comments that it was supposed to be done a certain way?!" he was like "yeah, in two different places, both times!" it was frustrating, but at least it was done and nothing was delayed. Anyway, I mention that because when they unwrapped his hand, it was one of the only times we've really seen it. And his hand stunk. Gross. Then he automatically assumes it's infected. It really just smells like dirty sweaty hand that has been wrapped for over a month. Oh can't wait to scrub it!!

I'm going to go ahead and diagnose myself with sciatica. Bummer. It's really tolerable right now. Just really irritating. Every time I bring my left foot forward when walking, it feels like something right above my hip joint, in my lower back, needs to crack sooo bad. And I've tried, oh I've tried. I can't make it move. So of course when I move certain ways it gets worse. And I still have the numbness and sometimes shooting tingles down my left leg. So I'm pretty sure that's what it is. I just wish someone could just crack it!!

And just in case anyone was wondering, I still haven't experienced these new Facebook changes that are supposedly happening.

We're hoping to be discharged soon. Like 10-14 days soon. I'm nervous for that. Then what will we do? Will we be at each others throats all the time because we won't have anything to do? No jobs to go to? It sounds like a dream. It's totally not.

I posted another blog a couple days ago. I just didn't put the link on Facebook, so if you want to read that one, be sure to check it out!

He moves a lot. It's starting to get more and more prominent as he gets bigger. I think I'm starting to be able to feel body parts. I wonder what it feels like when they're full grown. I hope I will get to feel that :-/

rinse cycle

2011-09-21T00:25:00.003-04:00

Where to begin?

Today was yet another roller coaster of emotions. But only for me, really.

I'm sitting in the basement of the Navy Lodge...excuse me, the garden level - ha..doing laundry. I can barely remember doing laundry like this in college. Isn't that sad how fast you forget those things? I think the first few times I stayed with it because of all the rumors you hear of people stealing your clothes. After the first couple times though, I never stayed with it again. It was just a lot of running back and forth up and down the stairs to change it over or go get it. Or I just saved it all until I went home. Either way, no one ever stole our clothes. Not at our beloved JMU :) Ok, off topic - nevertheless, I'm sitting here waiting for the clothes to finish washing, so I can put them in the dryer and wait again. Hoping the new maternity jeans I bought don't run on the other clothes...and hoping that washing his velcro clothes with my delicates wasn't a bad idea...but as I typed that, I pretty much figured it was, and I should prepare myself for some ruined underpants. Ah well.

I'm not really sure what to write about this day yet. I'm not sure how in detail I want to go about the events that occurred. I've already posted a little glimpse on Facebook, so I'm sure by now, those who wanted to, have figured it out. I had a routine OB check up today. It didn't quite go like I had hoped. I have gained about 15 lbs so far. Not happy about that, but understand it is part of pregnancy. Just feel like a heifer. I swear that scale was heavy though.

Jason was able to come with me to this appointment, which has been the first since he left and we had just found out. Then, he saw the yolk sac and a heart flutter, but that was it. He saw the 3D ultrasound when we found out the gender because we web streamed it to him. Baby was very active this morning, and moving everywhere during all my exams, which was good. Unfortunately my cervix is starting to funnel, and is shortening. Which is normal in pregnancy, but not this much, and not this early. I started out at around 4cm, and I'm at 1.5-2cm now depending on who you ask. I have to go back in 2 weeks to get checked again after some progesterone therapy. Either they'll tell me it's great news and it hasn't gotten any shorter and I will be able to go about my normal living, or it will have gotten shorter, and they'll want me on bed rest. I'm not dilated yet, so that's good. And I have no symptoms of preterm labor right now either.

But, how will I go on bed rest with a husband who is also pretty much on bed rest? I mean, he isn't really, but he still needs quite a bit of assistance. Remember when I said I felt like someone was playing a sick joke on me? Well, now I really feel that way. I hate that I am so negative, but with all the things that have happened or are happening, how could I not be?!

So when Jason goes outpatient, he'll be allowed to have one person to stay with him as his non medical attendant. This person is 'on orders' and will get per diem (which isn't a lot) for staying with him. It was going to be me. Except that if I have to go on bed rest that won't work. So then I'm wondering if I'll even be allowed to stay with him because technically I'm not on orders. Politics. And then I think about Colorado, and all our glorious stuff. And how I may not be able to go out there at all now. I'll have to rely on perfect strangers to pack it all and PCS it (eventually) and probably rely on my parents to go out there on their own dime to get the 'stuff' I'm so desperately waiting for. And then I think about all the little babies we saw at Evans - and we didn't even deliver under 36 weeks...and how sick some of them were even at that age. I think about how hard it was to get those little ones to breastfeed, and how they almost always had to have formula or IV fluids. I think about how long they stayed in there, and how the parents got so annoyed with it. I just want to deliver a healthy 7lb baby, and go home 2 days later like most everyone else gets to do. As if our family hasn't endured enough already. Let's just see what else we can pile on top.

Of course Jason handles it perfectly and says that everything will be fine. Not worried a bit. Unfortunately, my negative attitude, and my job have made me paranoid. He's moving around now, as if to tell me, "I'll be OK mom, I'm a fighter!" That sounds cheesy, but sometimes that's what I think. He is a boy though - and he's white - and for all my MBU nurses out there, we know where that's going. I feel like I've done something wrong though, even though I haven't. But, you don't have to do anything to be pregnant, and I can't even seem to do that right.

Let me clarify - I am not in pre term labor. I don't want a bunch of rumors spreading all over. I know a lot of people read this who I didn't even know would find it. And that's ok. And I have to be ready for the consequences of me putting my business out there. The doctor said I will likely deliver between 34 and 36 weeks. I'm still hoping for 38-40.

I'm merely stressed. Overloaded. Really thought my brain was oozing out of my ears today. Felt so numb and defeated. So defeated in fact, I got a flu shot. I am usually very resistant to those, just think they're silly. But now, I don't want to take any risks.

I know what all the machines in the NICU do. I don't want to deal with all those stupid cords and wires. I don't want to have to change poopy diapers and try not to get poop on them all. I don't want to go 'home' with oxygen for my baby. I don't want to pump and feed, I want to breastfeed. I don't want to deal with it! I'm sure this sounds extremely selfish of me, and I should be grateful to be carrying this baby boy. I am. I just want him healthy. Like 40 weeks healthy. My husband will be technically handicapped (though I know after a while you'll never notice) for the rest of his life. I don't want our child to be, too. Or deal with surgeries for a baby or long term health problems because I couldn't keep him inside me.

Any time after December 10 would be okay with me. Preferably January 7 of course, but after Dec 10, he'll be 36 weeks, and I can handle that. I've seen those babies go home in 2 days no problem. Some of them are littler, but some still go home with no problems.

Needless to say, I was in a severe funk all day. Of course the appointment was the first thing in the morning, so I was a misery to be around (again) all day long. I went with Jason to PT again. He gets excited to go now. But he's like a little puppy - as soon as he gets back from doing his exercises, he's exhausted, and goes right to sleep. He stood with the parallel bars and threw and caught an exercise ball while balancing. He did a great job with that. One guy fell while walking around the track, and it took a long time for him just to get back up. He had above the knee amputations, and was pretty new to his prosthetics it looked like. It was so sad to watch. He was so positive about it though, while just laying there on the floor waiting for someone to help. It was such a struggle to stand up on those legs for him, just something you'd never think about. How hard it is to stand up from lying on the floor with fake legs up to your hips. Jason said "Man, I wanted to help...and then I realized I couldn't." We just chilled out for the rest of the afternoon.

So I think after a day of processing it all, I'm a little better with it. But who knows what tomorrow will be like. I know there's not much I can do. I know I'm not doing too much to have caused it - if anything, I was doing much more before I came here. Now, I just wake up and walk to the hospital and sit in his room. Maybe walk downstairs once, and back to sitting, and picking scabs and dead skin, and then walk 'home' and sleep. Hence the weight gain. I know people do both of these things every single day (sit by their husbands bedside, and wait patiently for their baby to come home), just maybe not at the same time. And, thank goodness I'm not on bed rest now, or thank goodness the baby isn't here now in the middle of all this. And, at least we'll be within walking distance of the hospital for a good while. That will save on gas money!

We're so hoping for a weekend pass this weekend. We have got to get him off this base. His mom is coming for another visit too, so we were hoping to go out to lunch or dinner one night. It just all depends on whether or not his pain can be controlled with oral medications. Right now he's still on the PCA, and still has a wound vac. We're trying not to get our hopes up, but I think whenever you have to say that, you've already got them up.

I'm tired, I wish these clothes would hurry up. Usually, I love doing laundry. But not when I have to sit and wait for it.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Every day inside is worth three on the outside little one. You just stay put!

sea legs

2011-09-19T00:10:00.003-04:00

Apparently I'm starting to have some weird pregnancy symptoms. When I woke up this morning I thought my left leg felt a little numb, but I wrote it off to it just having slept on it wrong and figured it would go away within a few minutes. I didn't really think about it again until I was up in his room and was itching my leg, and realized it was still a little numb. Not like whole leg from top to bottom numb, just a section of my outer left thigh. Weird. I'm pretty sure it's pregnancy related, and they're just going to tell me "it's normal, as long as you're not in pain, there's nothing we can do about it." I'll keep you posted on the actual response. I have an appointment on Tuesday anyway, so I'll just ask then. But, my guess is, my growing baby/uterus is sitting on a nerve somewhere. Bummer. I really dislike the numb feeling, but I can't really notice it unless I'm touching it. I also feel like something needs to be cracked in my lower back. Anyone who knows me, knows I crack every joint that can be cracked in the human body. Well most everything. I know this is not a good thing, but it's a habit, and it feels so good. So I'm wondering if this has something to do with the numbness thing...may see if the doc will refer me to a chiropractor - I've never been to one, but seems appropriate in this situation. That, and Jason is not well enough to be able to lift me up to crack my back like he used to :) I just hope it doesn't turn painful, because that would be a bummer for the next 16 weeks.

Anyway, besides that, Jason and I had a fabulous day in my opinion. We went over to Building 62 for lunch which wasn't that exciting because it's Sunday so no one was there and the food was blah. But, it was better than hospital food or pizza. And, Jason doesn't have his meal card yet since he's still inpatient, and the lady decided to give it to us for free. That was a nice break. You'd think in a government facility that food would be cheap - it isn't. She told me not to go around telling everyone we got our lunch for free. So, if the Army is reading this, don't get her in trouble! ha ha.

After lunch we sat outside for a couple hours. They have these big cushiony lounge chairs, and the weather was pretty perfect - at least for Jason. He loved how cool and refreshing it was. We sat there for a while, and he called one of the other guys from his unit who's in a similar situation, just in San Antonio. It was so quiet out for some reason. Partly because it was a weekend I'm sure, and there weren't extra people floating around everywhere. It was nice to sit there in the peace and quiet and just talk about things.

We were going to go back in for dinner but they didn't really change the food selection so he decided he didn't want to eat there again. We went to the shopette instead and got dinner from the frozen foods aisle. Ha. But then when we returned to the floor, they had brought burritos for everyone so we ate those instead. And watched Forrest Gump.

We kind of have a night time routine now. It's really gross. I sit at the end of the bed and pick all the dead skin off his left food that I can, clean the dirt out of his toenails, slather lotion on his foot and then cover it with a sock to try to get rid of the insane amount of dry skin he's got going on. I massage it a little because it's still swollen since he's not on it that much yet. Then, we play gorilla, and pick scabs. I realize this is disgusting. But I quite enjoy it. He's got a ton of scabs on his 'residual limb' from where the sutures were taken out, and right along the incision too. Don't worry, we're allowed to pick them off, as long as they're ready to come off. In fact, they tell us it's good for the skin underneath...you only have to tell me once :)

Currently watching Dr. Drew's special 'Teen Dads' - puhhh leaseeee. I am such a sucker for this show. I swear, Catelynn and Tyler are like 30 year olds. Tyler impresses me so much - the things he says are so wise, and seeing that glimpse of how he was raised, it's just amazing that they were able to make the decisions they did. Just impressive. He'll go far, for sure. At least I hope he does. That was such a random side note. But, it also makes me so grateful for the relationship that Jason and I have since we're about to bring a human in to this world.

And speaking of our relationship - I have to say, I still don't deserve him. Last night, we were laying in the hospital bed - which is close to impossible - and I accidentally knocked his hand - the one that gives him problems. Immediately I knew I had hit it, and got so scared that I had hurt him. He put his grimace face on and took a few moments to himself. I was just thinking - If that had been me, I would've yelled and screamed and got so mad - he just whispered "just try to be more aware of your surroundings next time". Really? That's it?! Just hope I can remember that tolerance when the roles are reversed.

Jason's favorite line from Forrest Gump:

"I thought I'd try out my sea legs, Forrest"

"But LT Dan, you ain't got no legs..."

"Yes Forrest, I know that."

month

2011-09-17T00:04:00.004-04:00

Can you believe it's been a month since I've been here? Well, tomorrow will be. And I'll be 24 weeks tomorrow too. Just crazy. Counting up such a wonderful thing (the pregnancy) and not such a wonderful thing (his hospital stay). I never expected he would be in the hospital for over a month. When I was having the initial phone conversations about how life would be over the next few weeks, they told me 2-3 weeks. Ha. So obviously I took that to heart. I packed all normal people size clothes thinking that since I hadn't grown that much already, I probably wouldn't over the next 2-3 weeks, and then we would be back in Colorado and everything would be fine. What the hell is wrong with me?! Why would I think something that stupid?! I can't believe that's what I thought. I know better! I knew this would be a long process. I just didn't know how bad it would suck going through it. And I'm not even going through it, he is.

We had a visit from our old social worker today, she came by just to say hi and bye - she's being transferred to Fort Belvoir. We really liked her. Then we went downstairs to Physical Therapy - he hates that 'PT' now refers to Physical Therapy and not Physical Training - then they took him to the MATC (Military Advanced Training Center - and I just had to google that) building, where he'll be spending the next months or even more doing PT and OT. Super nice. Brand new building, brand new facility. Indoor track, rock climbing wall, all kinds of cardio machines, and a lot of young men with limbs lost. Jason looked like he was ahead of the curve compared to some of the guys. I know he compares his injury and thinks he doesn't deserve to be there. He's nervous. And he has every right to be - yet another unknown. I got a little upset, actually. Just an internal mental war about the morals of this country. While I was admiring all the fancy new equipment, I couldn't help but be pissed that this is even necessary. There were so many young men, missing one leg, two legs, an arm and a leg, two arms and a leg, two legs and an arm, etc. And for what? For the rest of America to continue to complain about whatever they choose to complain about? Here, their sacrifice never goes unnoticed, but in the real world, out there with all those civilians, it most definitely does. It just makes my heart hurt for them. It makes me wish I could be bigger than I am, so that I could really make a difference somehow.

I'm not going to lie, as much as we both hate being in the hospital, when he's finally discharged, it's going to be real weird. You mean we don't have to be back in 4 hours for vitals? I think he might find it harder than he thinks too - he's pretty anxious about all the different recovery processes, and is very afraid to mess anything up, so I hope he adjusts to being on his own okay. He's scared the skin graft will get messed up, or his wounds will get infected. I'm sure it's a wife thing, but he never believes me when I try to put his concerns to rest. But as soon as someone else tells him the same thing, it's all ok! (He says it's because I don't deal with 'this kind of stuff' not that I don't know what I'm doing...-and believe me, we've discussed how this makes me feel! ha)

This one guy was nice enough to stop and show him how his 'first leg' worked. He took off all the layers of socks and shrinkers and told him what to expect. He showed him how it fits and how it goes on and stays on. I didn't see many wives there. So, if wives don't go with their husbands every day - what do they do?! I'm going to go nuts. And probably become a whale. Jason got a book about the DASH diet today. hahahahahahha. We should probably start eating salad. Like every day. Stat.

The walk home reminded me a tad of Colorado. It's chilly all the sudden here - which is not normal for Va, usually it's gradual. This weather change was much like Colorado - hot one day, freezing the next. But, it wasn't humid either. It was nice. I've seen there's already snow on Pikes Peak though - and in Colorado, this is a big indicator that winter is coming! Jason and I would have lived there for 2 years soon - the 19th I think - which is crazy. Time flies when you're not cooped up in a hospital room! I hope we can go back one day. Now that he's likely non deployable we've been considering Hawaii again. One of the big things holding us back from there was that unit deploys very often. Who knows what our future will bring. I just hope it's on the uphill from here on out!

My mom and dad visited yesterday, then we went shopping and I bought more maternity clothes. Do you realize how expensive these clothes are?! It's insane. I kind of wish we were still in the just 'wear a moo-moo' era. I bet it was a lot cheaper.

When I write these blogs, I'm usually in my hotel room (which I just had to re check in to since it's been a month. Can't believe I've been in a freaking hotel room for a month. Ugh.) and drinking milk straight from the container with cookies of course. It's glorious. Just thought you should know.

Oh, since the last post, they put him back on the PCA, this time with Dilaudid. In the beginning that's what he had, and he was convinced it wasn't working. I don't know if he was just in even more excruciating pain then, and it really wasn't working, or if he was so out of it he couldn't tell, but it's like the miracle drug now. He was on morphine for a long time, so I'm sure he built up a tolerance to that. They had him on 0.8mg/20 mins of Dilaudid and it knocked.him.out. Needless to say he slept well last night. But he did say he would wake up in pain because it knocked him out so hard he wouldn't wake up until he was in pain again. But he couldn't stay awake for very long periods of time today, so they turned the dose down to 0.5mg/20 mins...still makes him tired, but as long as it's controlling the pain, I'm happy. He's trying to stay on top of the OxyIR's so he won't have to push his button as much, but it doesn't seem to be working like it has in the past.

He was upset that they had to start that again, said it feels like a step back and that he'll never get out of there. But after I had a firm conversation with the nurse and then residents, the attending finally came in and started it back up. Oh, I was pretty mad. I'm sure I sounded rude, although mom said she could tell I was restraining myself. I get that everyone has to learn. I was there once. I still am. Everyone is always learning, really. But these residents, they make me want to stab myself in the eye. I found it interesting actually. About 3 of them came in and shuffled through their stack of crumpled up papers to find his history - "Hm, so the Oxy isn't working?" No. "Hm, so it's nerve pain then?" I don't know, it just hurts and the morphine and oxy aren't working anymore. "Hm, so we should probably up the dose on your Pamelor and give you another dose of Klonopin." My face is getting hot. I finally said - he doesn't get pamelor until 22 - what will that do for his pain now? (it was 4pm) "Hm, I see." And then, the klonopin only made him tired it didn't touch his pain. I don't want you to knock him out so he can't acknowledge the pain, I want you to fix the problem. (besides the fact that it's a psych drug, and we all know how I feel about those - all I keep picturing is our psych professor making a very bad imitation of what some of those drugs can do to people) "Hm..." And then the doc comes in and says "Ok, so we're going to put you on a Dilaudid PCA..." haha what?! So it seemed like zero communication was had between the residents and attending...but whatever. And then they just kind of backed out of the room and huddled in the hallway to mumble about it some more...and probably talk about what a b*tch the wife was :)

There are a lot more people out there reading this blog than I ever could have imagined. Initially I thought it would just be a good way to keep family updated who are far away, and I also wanted to have something to look back on when we're old. Jason still hasn't read it. He's read the first few posts, but it doesn't interest him that much since he's experiencing it all first hand. I'd imagine a few years from now, maybe, he'll find it interesting to look back on. Either way, we both really appreciate everyones support, whether we know you or not. To know that we're thought about on a daily basis, by any given person, is a blessing. My hope is that this blog will help others out there who may be going through the same things we are to feel like they aren't alone like I felt for a very long time (and sometimes still do). I also hope to bring awareness about the struggles and intense life changes something like this can bring a young couple. Unfortunately this happens fairly frequently and many others may just hear about it and probably think "Oh poor them." But no one will really ever know what it's like unless they've been through it themselves. This is no walk in the park. I only hope we can come through this on the other side still smiling, and still happy to be married to one another.

So now that we're living our life counting days, weeks, and months - I wonder where we'll be in this process a month from now?

deer

2011-09-14T23:45:00.003-04:00

Considering I rolled around in bed until noon today, and now I'm back in it, I haven't even been up for 12 hours. Ugh. I feel so worthless, and like a very nonproductive member of society these days. I used to be awake and working nonstop for at least 14 hours of the day! (not every day of course)

Jason texted around 9 which I thought was early to be done with surgery already. He told me he got bumped and wouldn't go until 11. I could picture how irritated he would be since he had been NPO since midnight...I knew he'd be starving, and being pushed farther and farther back would only make it worse. Fortunately (and unfortunately) he is no longer a trauma patient, and is now on the PM&R service (I can't remember the full meaning...but the R is for rehab - which is a good thing). So that means he's not as acute anymore either. I tried to explain to him that another trauma patient could come in at any time and need the OR more than he did. "Then why did I have to go NPO at midnight?!" Because unfortunately, you just never know what will happen, it's the nature of the beast. "That's genius." So, he was mad. And hungry. And in pain. I reminded him of the morphine push he could have, although at that point I think his pain had gotten to far out of control. He said he sat there in pain, and hungry for a while. They called me (which has never happened) around 1300 when I just got to his room expecting him to be back soon, and told me that he had just gone in to the OR. I knew he had to have been even more pissed then. So, I go off to get all the DMV bullshit paperwork notarized and mailed. I sit in his room and watch Ellen (on which I see an old high school friend as she practices with the New Orleans Saints...weird). Still no Jason. I start decluttering, or trying. He has two nice backpacks in the closet full of random stuff - clothes, notebooks, cards from students, etc. I stuff as much as I can in to those two bags and decide to go pick up some milk and take them back to the hotel room. I may be jumping the gun on his moving out process, but he has so much stuff in there it's ridiculous. As soon as I leave, he texts "where are you?!" of course, I just missed him. But by now it's 1630, and he just got back to his room, so I'm sure he's starving. I hurry back to the room (after changing out of my scrub pants which sadly aren't comfortable anymore) with his order of spicy purple doritos.

Things I learned in my long time alone today:

I want Cesar Millan to come train our dog (even though she's perfect in our eyes).

I really need more maternity clothes now. Like, I don't think I can fake it much longer.

I did not pack appropriately. Maybe I would have if I hadn't been pregnant and actively growing out of everything I packed. Ugh.

It was ungodly hot today.

I really hate it when things don't have homes. And, right now we have a lot of that going on. It makes my brain feel like it's oozing out of my ears when I think about it too much.

I really love being alone.

After he got back, his hand was killing him. He had been given a temporary nerve block in the OR I think because he said his whole arm was dead, but he could still feel pain in his fingers. Apparently when he goes off the trauma service and on to the PM&R service, he also goes off the pain service - so they can't be called anymore. I don't really understand this, but I don't push it too hard. He gets all the meds he missed earlier in the day, and also some immediate release oxy's. Doesn't work. Gets the Morphine push. Doesn't work. Gets a one time dose of OxyIR, which surprise! doesn't work. Now it's night shift and he's still in pain. Gets a one time dose of Morphine which doesn't work. Gets dose of PRN Morphine again, doesn't work. Gets the PRN OxyIR dose which doesn't really work either. Still in pain, and now irritated because he hates all these drugs being in his system. He's worried he's going to have weird side effects or hallucinations. Gets his night time cocktail which includes Lyrica now that they've switched that from Neruontin, OxySR, etc, and his favorite, Lovenox. After all those doses, it's still not touching his 9/10 almost making him cry hand pain, she comes in with Klonopin. Now, psych nursing was not my thing, but I do remember some of the drugs, and this was one of them. Psych drugs freak me out a little. Apparently this one can be used for nerve pain too. But she explained to him that it is a benzo and that it will pretty much knock him out. He's still worried about all the effects, especially now that he's had so much other pain medication, but decides to take it.

By the time I leave, he's very sleepy, and I hope he will get good rest. I told the nurse on the way out to bring him his OxyIR's every 4 hours no matter if he's asleep or not. (he agreed to that) I just hope it's better by tomorrow - usually his day of surgery pain is the worst...I know he really wants to get out of the hospital and move around. He said he has had a couple days where he hasn't been in pain, and was so happy.

He is shocked by how long this is taking, and I think reality is just now starting to set in about how long of a process this will really be. I don't think he realized he would be on all kinds of medications for a long, long time. He's scared that he's going to be in pain for the rest of his life. I don't think this will be the case, but then, how could I ever know. He's scared that he's going to turn in to a grumpy old man because he's just in pain all the time (I'm kind of scared for that too). His hand, though, will likely be a slow and painful rehabilitation process. He's physically tired from being in pain so much.

I see guys walking around all the time though, like nothing is bothering them. He stares at and examines their prosthetic legs like a teenage boy would look at boobs. He compares the different kinds, and can tell whether they've had an above the knee or below the knee amputation from the kind of prosthetic they have. So I think there's hope for a pain free life.

On my walk home (do you like how I'm calling this glorious Navy Lodge 'home'?!) for the past two nights there has been a herd of deer. I don't know if they come in herds or packs or what, but there was more than one, and that's all I care about. Last night I was only a couple feet from the hotel so I just bit my tongue and walked a little faster. Tonight, I was much farther away and they were all over it felt like. There were probably only 5, but still. They were crossing the road like no big deal, and right up in the front lawn of the Fisher Houses. It freaked me out. I do not like being that close to wildlife. Especially the kind that stop and stare at you like they're getting ready to charge. Deer are stupid, but you never know what they'll do...like cats...and that freaks me out. I called Jason. I figured he would know what to do. He didn't. There was no other way to go, so I ultimately just walked passed them again, praying to whoever that they wouldn't notice me. I went around to the back of the hotel this time though, but I was still way closer than I've ever wanted to be to a stupid deer.

Hopefully off to buy more maternity clothes tomorrow...I have to say, I do not like the gaining weight aspect of pregnancy. I do schedule all my doctors appointments for first thing in the morning so I weigh the least I will for the day in hopes that will make me feel a little better about it all :/ But, as much as I hate gaining weight, I can not seem to say no to the Boston Cream Donuts from Dunkin Donuts in the hospital. Ugh.

naptime

2011-09-13T16:53:00.002-04:00

It's nap time in room 461...as soon as I arrived today, around 11:30, Jason was already in his wheel chair, and had already been to physical therapy for the morning. He was ready to leave again. We went over to building 62 for a while, ate lunch there, and got a bunch of paperwork sorted. I have to submit a ton of notarized forms to the Colorado DMV in order to renew my registration from out of state. Who knew. I thought I could just do it online. Not so much. Hopefully it gets mailed back to me in time! Oh, the joys.

We ran in to his inpatient case manager - who tells us "Those people are idiots. You're going to stay here for a long time." Great. Ugh.

Let me back up a little.

I went home for the weekend - and I think I blogged from there once. I wrote about how sad I was that we wouldn't get our stuff, and how annoyed I was with the runaround. But, I tried to enjoy the weekend at home as much as possible. My pup helped with that. She didn't growl at me, but did bark when I came in the door. I don't know if she was excited to see me because I was excited to see her, or what, but the greeting went well. (We usually have issues with her and strangers, and especially if people don't feel comfortable, she can sense that and gets a little protective, but never aggressive.) She slept in my room all weekend, which was fine, except that when Mom got up in the middle of the night and she heard the noises, she started barking...which is not a very fun awakening. It will be interesting to see how she will react when we finally have her back, and she hears the baby crying in the middle of the night. I can just picture it - like in the movies - when the baby starts, the dog starts, and then the baby gets even louder...hmm. Maybe Jason won't be able to use the "I slept through it" excuse ;) By the end of the weekend, I had adjusted to the fact that our things would be in that house for a good while.

So, I drive my car back up to Bethesda on Sunday afternoon, and come up to see Jason. His dad, grandparents and friends from high school all visited him over the weekend, so he was definitely not lonely. In conversation he says "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, SFC Brown said he talked to Gypso (don't know the correct acronym for that) and they'll ship whatever you want out here, and store the rest." So, naturally, I stress. I mean, really? I just got OK with the fact that all our stuff will stay out there with the exception of whatever I choose to send back myself. And now you're telling me the opposite, AGAIN?! So. Over. It.

That night was rough, for both of us. I was so upset, I was angry. I was angry at Jason because we're in this situation, and then I was angry at myself because I was angry at him, and that's not fair, it's not his fault. I also looked up the car registration stuff, and realized I had to go to the DMV in person since I never updated our address when we moved to Fountain. So, it's Sunday and I can't call anyone, so I'm stressing about that too. I'm even more mad at myself because I didn't take care of that sooner. But why would I have known to do that. I hope this situation doesn't make me more annoying than I already am. I worry about so much, and now I'm just going to worry about more because I know what it's like to have everything change in an instant. I hope I can just learn to live life as it comes, like I'm supposed to be learning to do right now...

Anyway, he was upset because he's in this situation of course, upset that he brought me in to it, and he's tired of being in the hospital, tired of being in pain, and just wants to go back to the way it was, even if that means he's in Afghanistan. At this point, we both wish he was back in Afghanistan. I would take that over this any day. After we both got our feelings out, I slept in the room with him most of the night, until about 5, when I decided I should go try to get some real sleep since I knew I had to get back in order to take care of a few things during normal business hours. While I was lying next to him though, he got to feel the baby a lot. A lot more than normal. Like so much that it freaked him out! haha, he said "Are you sure there's not an alien in there?" Nice. He always moves a ton when I lay flat, and I so wish Jason was next to me, able to feel him. This time he was, thankfully. He was doing summersaults in there I think.

So today, when we saw his case manager over at 62, and he explained everything again - all the opposite of what we've already been told a million times. I'm just so done! Finally, after a month of this, I've learned to just stop asking. I'm just going to wait until he goes outpatient, and try to figure it out from there. The only thing I need everyone to realize is that there comes a time when I won't be able to fly. But, I still have a good while for that. Our house does need to be winterized soon though, but I know people will help me there if I ask. I just hate asking.

Today, it's been a month since he stepped on that land mine. Crazy how time flies. I look at all the other wives whose husbands are still deployed where Jason was, and I so wish I could be counting down the months with them instead of counting up the months he's been here, or without a leg. "I've only had one leg for a month already" he says today. Is that how we're going to count now? I also realized I will be married to an amputee longer than we weren't married. It's not like this happened in old age because of neuropathy or something, this happened barely over a year after we got married, and we're both still so young. I suppose that will make it easier to adjust, right? I just worry (shocker) about long term care - like when we're 60 and grandparents - will it give him more trouble than it should? Will it cause problems he normally wouldn't have had to deal with? Most likely. All part of the adjustment I guess.

His phantom pains are pretty bad these days. He says they're usually okay while he's up in his wheelchair, but it seems like when he tries to go to sleep, they really act up and he can't sleep. Hopefully they'll get under control soon, or when he starts walking on that leg, hopefully it will start to desensitize a little more.

Skin graft on fingers tomorrow - hopefully the last surgery for a long, long time!! Let's all hope the grafts take, I've heard fingers are really hard, and very finicky. That is the only thing keeping him inpatient right now, really. Once this heals, and hopefully works, we'll get to move over to 62! And hopefully be able to focus a little more on baby coming :)

I've been thinking a lot about what I would tell other wives in this situation. I really should make a list. But, unfortunately as a medical professional, I also know every situation is so, so different. And I totally hate it when they give me that line. But, it is true.

He's still asleep - it's like conditioning to get back to a normal life! Today he was out for about 5 hours - he came back and fell asleep and has been ever since, about 1.5 hrs later...he said "It's like I'm a baby again!" I said, "Yep, you and baby will have to nap every 3 hours!" We will definitely be a well rested family, that's for sure...

still

2011-09-10T00:41:00.005-04:00

I'm finding myself to still be pretty bitter about all this. Thursday, I went to this wonderful family orientation meeting that I was supposed to go to a long time ago. It wasn't that informative. I stayed a little after and grilled this guy about all the questions I'd been pondering for weeks now. He was no help. Of course, I teared up. I got over it, and he said he'd get back to me with answers. But, during this meeting, he did say that the two people we should be seeing often are his squad leader and his nurse case manager. His squad leader I've seen once. Only in passing, because we were in the hall. And I've only seen his nurse case manager once because the social worker took me to him to answer my questions. I found this interesting. The two people they say we're supposed to stay in the most contact with, are the two I've hardly seen. Ugh. Figures.

So, I ask him to call his squad leader, and he does. Oh, he's in Michigan. Helpful.

I talk to my friend from high school who says they're supposed to leave you a point of contact if they're going to be gone, that there should always be someone we can get in contact with if we need to. He tells me to call his platoon sgt. So I do. (Jason is asleep during all this, by the way, I'm just being impatient) His platoon sgt is a woman, and latino I believe, so not the most empathetic. My main question is obviously, "When can we get our stuff moved out here, or at least put in storage?" - for some reason this has been my main question since the get go. I'm not sure why. It really feels like I'm the only wife who is this concerned about her belongings. And it makes me feel selfish. Anyway, she proceeds to tell me that "No, you will absolutely not get your stuff shipped out there. No partial do it yourself move, no moving to storage (unless we do it ourselves, and by we, I mean I), and no PCSing. As long as he's getting BAH (housing allowance) the Army will NOT ship your stuff." Tears are welling up now, lump in throat, AGAIN. Literally, every day this week, I think I've cried. My voice starts getting all high pitched, like it does when you're trying to sound normal but are trying not to cry at the same time. I tell her I just don't understand, I can't wrap my head around being okay with leaving everything we own in an empty house in Colorado that we're paying for but not living in, how is that fair? "Because you're getting the housing allowance, ma'am." Great. So, while I'm harping on this, she continues to say "Well, ma'am how much stuff do you need?!" I felt so materialistic.

She says "It's like if I went TDY. The Army wouldn't pay for my husband and kids to come out with me for a few months while I was there." Uh. No, it's not like that at all. At least your husband and kids are still living in and using the home that your BAH is going towards. "Well ma'am if you need to go back, we can help you arrange that, you don't have to be his NMA (non medical attendant) his family members can do that too. If you need to go back for work or whatever it is, you can, and he can come out when he's done with rehab." What. Did she really just say that. First of all, who does that? Oh, it's ok, my husband is in rehab, but I have to go back to work. See ya.

Is she nuts!? Do people really do that? I am his family now. That thought never even crossed my mind, and I refuse to leave him here to rehab on his own for who knows how long.

And I guess that puts it in perspective for me. But it sucks. So, so bad. I admit it. I want my stuff. I like my stuff. But the reality is, I don't need it right now. This is only temporary. But how temporary is the question. Who knows. All I know is, I'll have to go back at some point and winterize the house, and get all our winter clothes. Probably clean out my locker at work too. And hopefully get NRP recertification while I'm at it. But, they won't pay for us to ship those things back - I can tell you right now I can't get it all in to suitcases. I mean, I want my own sheets and towels, thank you. "Anything you need can be donated, ma'am, you're getting the per diem, if finances are an issue, we have people to help with that, anything you need, just tell me." I NEED MY STUFF! I don't want to get stuff donated - I have it all already! I don't need double EVERYTHING!

Luckily, my mom is proactive (almost to a fault), and is willing to drive out (and by that I mean, willing to volunteer my dad to drive her out) to Colorado to bring stuff home for me. I'm lucky to have the support I do. We are.

New challenges. Now, slowly coping with the thought of everything we've so carefully put in that house, and decorated, just sitting there for God knows how long, and hoping no one realizes it's an empty house and decides to break in. More things to bring back, the all important xbox (for physical therapy of course), and all of our important papers - birth certificates, marriage certificate, social security cards - if anyone broke in right now, we'd be SOL.

Almost a month later, though, I am seriously still mind boggled by this process. It is absolutely nauseating. I don't know how to say this without sounding utterly morbid, or politically incorrect, or just plain wrong; but injured soldiers and their families are the only ones put in this situation. God forbid, if the seriously life altering alternative happened - still, the family would be given their time to grieve and the Army would move them one last time to wherever they chose. Yes, this is not the same. In no way am I saying that it is. And I probably shouldn't have even said that. Because I am so, so grateful I am not in that situation. But, even then, while a family is literally torn apart, they are not ripped from everything they know and expected to form a new life of uncertainties at the mercy of the military and the governmental red tape. It feels like we're living every day on edge just waiting to find out what other hoops we have to jump through in order to be a family.

Anyway, I feel crazy. I feel selfish and on the verge of having a mental break down every single day. Jason just prods through, like nothing bothers him. I'm sure it does. (Oh, by the way, he woke up from his iPod induced nap when I started with the high pitched almost yelling on the phone to his platoon sgt) He comforts me, or tries. But, nothing will make me feel better. I wish I could just be at peace with this. Some people are so good at taking things as they come, at just going with the flow, or rolling with the punches. I, am not. I thought I was, and I'm trying so hard to be, but it is a serious struggle. It seems like the other wives or significant others are just in their normal life, and I feel like I'm constantly unraveling on the inside. I think it can't get any worse, but then it does.

How do people do this? How do families cope with this? Those wives with young children? I'll never know. Here I am complaining, and it's just me. Maybe I have too much time on my hands and that's why I'm thinking about all these things. I'm complaining because I want to nest. I want to decorate a nursery for our first baby, and I can't. I don't know where we'll be, and I don't know how long we'll be there, so I don't want to buy any furniture. I'm worried that this baby will have some psychological problems because his first months or years are going to be entirely too stressful because of his mother who is a freaking nut job, because she can't cope with all the changes appropriately.

Why am I so worried about our stuff? About having a house with a nursery? Or sleeping in our own bed? After 25 years in Virginia, I finally felt at 'home' in Colorado - and I never thought I would say that about anywhere but Virginia, but I did. And I miss it. And now I'm in Virginia, and I don't feel at home anymore. We don't have a home anymore. Hindsight is always 20/20. You always miss what you had when you can't have it anymore. All those proverbs or whatever they are, are so true.

We took a trip to the Red Cross to get more velcro clothes and movies, and three old ladies started doting on Jason. It was cute. There was one, her name was Mary, and she is 86. She told us the story of how she met her husband. She was volunteering at Walter Reed during WWII and he was an amputee. They met there, and he would get on the street car and go meet her for lunch or dinner in DC. She said she could never remember which leg was amputated because it didn't matter to her. He was gorgeous, she said, and that's all that mattered. ha :) That story puts it in perspective too, though. I mean, really this is what it's about. Jason and I, and this baby on the way. Making our way in this new life. It's just unfortunate that right now we're so dependent on everything and everyone else, and we can't go out and do the things we used to do all the time.

I still think to myself, at least daily, about the fact that we're in this situation, and no one else is. (of our friends and families) Our lives are absolutely changed, and 100% different now, and no one else's is. I still get angry that everyone else can go about their normal day. I still feel like someone is playing a sick joke on us. I still wish I could go back to work and make money like I'm supposed to be. I even wish he was still in Afghanistan and I was living alone in Colorado taking care of that whole entire house and the dog. (is this the bargaining phase of grieving?!) I would take Skype dates every two or three days and the potential of delivering our baby without him, in place of this. As long as he came home - to Colorado home - next May, like he was supposed to, of course.

It's amazing the people that come through for you in a time like this. People you would never expect, usually people you haven't talked to in months or years, or weren't even that close to. It's sad that the people you would expect to come through for you, don't.

I'll try to fall asleep to the Golden Girls tonight, with Sadie in my room again (I'm at my parents house for the weekend), and pretend like I'm still in Colorado, in our big comfortable bed, and things are still run of the mill normal...even though they are still far, far from it.

skin

2011-09-07T22:48:00.002-04:00

I think they say the skin is the largest organ in (or on) the body.

I say, it's freaking gross.

Who ever knew that not showering for upwards of a month would be so foul. haha, ok I guess that makes no sense - but when you're laying in bed all day and all night, how horrible could it get right? Pretty horrible. It's just the scabs. Ugh, I can't type the sound it makes me want to make. When we change his clothes you can just see the skin flakes floating in the air. I literally swept up a pile of scabs off the floor today. I love my husband, but I can't WAIT to get him in the shower with a giant loofah.

Today, he got all the visible sutures out! From his 'residual limb' and left bicep. He was pretty excited about that. He got to see his left leg too since they unwrapped it to show the doctors. Not as gnarly as we were expecting, but there will definitely be a nice scar. Same with his bicep. It's funny, actually, he looks more ripped (not literally) in his left arm now - because half that bicep is missing. If that makes any sense. I took a picture of it - now we just need to get the other one looking that way :) He and I have the body type that is we'll never be ripped. I know some people say everyone can look that way, but I don't believe it. We just have the body type where we're just big boned I guess, or 'thick' some would say. It's a bummer, and an even bigger bummer for this baby! I hope he doesn't get those genes.

I had another runaround today. It was fun. I went over to the infamous building 62 this morning - and by morning I mean 12:30 when I finally go out of bed. So of course, everyone was at lunch. I tell them I need to fill out a leave form because I'm planning to go home this weekend. As I'm filling it out and reading, it says you have to check out of your hotel room. What. Anyone who knows me, knows I overpack anyway. And anyone who knows my mom knows she brings enough crap everywhere she goes, to feed and supply an Army, no pun intended. So needless to say, I've literally moved in to this hotel room over the past two and a half weeks. I do NOT want to pack up everything and move out for 3 days at home. So, since my patience level is already at zero, the tears start flowing again. I have a problem. I can't control my emotions when I really should. They're just doing their job, it's not their fault. But instead I become completely irrational and start crying, and just shut down. So I tell him to just forget it, I won't go home. I see the finance guy who fills out the 15 day voucher and proceeds to tell me that if I do decide to go on leave he needs to know 24 hours in advance. Oh, good, another thing I didn't know. So I'm sitting in the lobby waiting to see another person about something else (going on 2 hours of being here now) and the supervisor sees that I'm livid (because along with my emotions, I definitely cannot control my body language). She's asking about the customer service, which is fine, I'm just pissed at the system I tell her. She makes some phone calls and comes back and tells me I do not have to check out of the room, and if there is a problem she gave me a number to call. Next time, I will just go home and not tell anyone, and that's that. So now, I fill out another leave form, and now have to get another travel voucher since I will be on leave, they won't pay me per diem for those days. Ugh. And I have to sign back in when I get back which will be on a Sunday so no one will be there. So I have to go back on Monday to sign in and get another travel voucher, and then on Wednesday to get new orders, and then next week to get another travel voucher again.

And, I'll have to continue to do all this as long as we're living in that infamous building 62. Which won't be as terrible because it's in the same building, but come on. The system is absolutely asinine. I just can't wrap my head around them requiring the already stressed to the max family members to remember and take care of this stuff so often. It is absolute bullshit and I'm about to find a congressman or someone to write to. I can't be his 'non medical attendant' if you're requiring me to sit in your office every other day to fill out stupid paperwork instead of tending to him!

Jason isn't surprised by this, in fact, he's used to it. But he knows I'm at my limit here, and quite frankly, I think he's excited for me to leave for a few days. Ha.

So then the supervisor calls the lady from SFAC who then calls me and asks if I'm ok about eighty times. Annoying. She says "Well I got a phone call from whoever at building 62 and she said you were really upset." Great. I need help, I get that, but I don't need you guys checking up on me every five seconds because you're not giving me the kind of help I need. I need for this system to change. And that will never happen.

Oh, and our social worker is being transferred, and I actually liked her. One more thing. I wish Obama would just spend a day in my shoes with me - oh man, I would love for that man to witness this bullshit. But I'm sure he'd have some wonderful response in which he actually says nothing at all for the reasons why things are the way they are. Sorry. I'm not political at all - and it's nothing against him - I just want the President to witness what his people are going through while they make all these executive decisions up there in their leather chairs. Hope that doesn't spark any controversy.

The weather will probably be the same tomorrow, but hopefully my attitude will be a little better...

excuses

2011-09-06T23:07:00.004-04:00

What a yucky day. It was actually chilly here, and rained all day. Not to mention, my day started off in the pooper. I was supposed to go to this Family Orientation meeting this morning, and walked all around BFE looking for it, calling everyone I knew to call, and they were all telling me to go different places. So, while wondering around, I ran in to our social worker, thank goodness, who showed me where to go - which I never would have found on my own. But no one was there. So no family orientation meeting. I had emailed our social worker last week about coming to check on us - I think I mentioned this in one of my previous posts. And when she asked how I was doing, again, I was on the verge of tears from the frustrations of this morning. I explained to her how I learned of all the things I was supposed to be doing, but didn't know about. She walked with me to find the lady who works for SFAC, and got some questions answered, but it still doesn't make it any easier. The reality of it is, I just don't want to do these things I'm required to do. That sounds bad, and lazy, but it's just irritating. I told her that. "Right now, at this moment, I am the only one here for him, and I can't be here for him if I'm running around in circles trying to figure out all the other crap I have to do." Again, I found myself overwhelmed, and irritated with everything. So, that set the tone for the day.

I never made it back over to Building 62 like I had planned, to turn in all the paperwork I need to do. It rained all day long. I really was being selfish, and wanted Jason to come with me so he could hopefully see where we'll be living, and also so he could just be there to listen in case I miss anything, or don't understand something, which these days is quite often. But, because of the rain, Jason was too nervous to go outside. So, I just didn't go either. I did pay two bills though, so that's promising! Must go tomorrow though, if I plan to go home this weekend.

I'll have to turn in the paperwork for Jason's mom to come back in a couple weeks, fill out another travel voucher, turn in direct deposit form (which I already did once), sign in with casualty affairs, fill out a leave form since I am going home, and I'm sure some other things I'm forgetting. I just think it's ridiculous that soldiers families have to deal with all this bullshit while caring for their loved one at the same time. I'm sure the DOD could figure out how to micromanage just a little bit more and find someone to do this monotonous job for the sake of the families sanity.

On one good note - we're down to one wound vac. He went to the PACU today and was put under conscious sedation (I assume) and had the wound vac from his left leg removed. He said they told him the skin graft took completely, so that's great. They weren't really worried about that one though. I think they're more worried about his fingers. He will have the wound vac on there until next Monday at the earliest when they might skin graft those. It's still where most of his pain is, and we actually got to see his hand for the first time today. By default though. The geniuses who replaced the wound vac and rewrapped his arm, put the splint on upside down. So he had this nice little wing on his upper arm where it should've been on his hand instead. We went down to PT and they unwrapped everything for him and fixed it. But that was the first time we've seen that arm since he got here. The arm is fine, it's just the fingers and palm that look pretty mangled. His fingers are still all swollen, and he's got a nice big black blood blister on the palm of his hand, and some sutures in his wrist. They said he was cleared to do range of motion in his wrist, but I'm not sure how that's possible with how it was looking. So she said he could hold off on that for a little longer. I do know it will be really stiff whenever he does start doing it. His skin graft site is still weeping, and looking pretty gross. He's convinced it's infected, but it's not. He also finally got the staples out of his left upper leg today after about the 15th time asking the docs. They were overdue to come out, for sure.

I texted mom and told her I should probably come home soon. I don't know if it was the weather or what - that's my main excuse - but I was a misery to be around today. Which isn't fair, because I took Jason down with me. Then we were kind of at each others throats all day. But not really, because that's never the case with us. It's usually just him being insanely patient and calm while I get irritated and snap at him. don't.deserve.him.

So my plan as of now, is to get Dad to bring Sadie up here Thursday and spend a little time with Jason, and then take me home with him. Now, when I think about leaving, instead of earlier when I was going from 0 to 60 in being angry, I get nervous. I don't want to leave him for too long. I can always come back, I know that, but I just feel bad.

I've been reading everything I can about cloth diapering. Still haven't decided. Jason says he'll do it if I really want to, but he thinks it won't be that much more cost effective. I was trying to explain it to him, but it's hard because I don't know enough about it myself. I was looking in to the hybrid systems where you can use a cloth insert or a disposable insert, and that's where he said it just doesn't sound like it makes sense. I can see his point, and since I'm already teetering, it's really hard to be convinced. I just never have any strong feelings about anything. People can usually convince me to do anything (like streak the quad) - which probably isn't one of my strongest suits. I should be more convicted about certain things. I wish I could be.

I decided I hated our living room furniture not even a year after we got it, after convincing him that my choice was better, I also still second guess our dog's name choice (which was mostly mine again) - so I'm really struggling with giving a human a name that they will be called for the rest of their lives. So you can imagine how the decision to cloth diaper would be a hard one for me who is trying to be more financially aware, but also realistic about what I will actually follow through with.

My clothes are getting tighter, and that also added to todays funk. I wish there was a 24hr fitness close by. I hate working out, but I think I need to do it. I know I don't need a gym for that, either. But just sitting here, eating fast food or candy, and then having all the time in the world to think about how terrible I'm eating, and how I'm not working out, makes my already low self confidence just spiral downward. Not something I need for the sake of Jason who cannot be responsible for my emotional well being right now. He's got his own laundry list of things to worry about.

Speaking of laundry. I need to do it. I'm going to try to hold out until I go home. And, who knew there were "wash routines" for cloth diapers. I had no idea. It makes it that much more overwhelming. Maybe not the best time to try to tackle something so new? Or is that just another excuse?!

g diapers?

2011-09-05T01:23:00.007-04:00

Today, I felt normal.

But now, I feel exhausted.

I took the metro to Eastern Market in DC - I'm not sure if this is the name of a town in the DC area or if it's named that because of the Market we went to. Either way, it's the name of a stop on the metro, and that's where we went. We being myself, Beth and Nicole. They have a big flea/farmers market every Sunday. It was hot, but refreshing. Got some fresh peaches and pears to eat with Jason. I also got him some kettle corn, but I never made it back to his room before the night was over :/ We'll share it tomorrow. We found a cute little consignment shop on the way back to the metro and I bought a few more clothes for baby boy. I was also *almost* convinced to do cloth diapering now instead. Now that I'm not going to be working, I'm seriously considering it, I just don't know if I'd be able to do strictly cloth in order to make it financially worth it. Either way, it's always environmentally worth it...still not sure.

I wasn't planning on staying out too late, but with those girls, you just can't predict anything. So, while Nicole was rushing me to make a decision before we missed the next metro train, I decided to go back to their apartment since I had never seen it. Oh, and I got a Smart Trip card - which means I look like I know what I'm doing when I go to the metro but I really don't still...so we hang out there and cool off. And finally mosey on to dinner - sushi - yum. Meet up with more old college friends, and play beer pong like old times, and then Cranium not like old times. No, I didn't drink, I just played. And not too bad either! Robert and I were "Team Baby Bump" I don't know that anyone else had a team name...Robert's goal was to "drink JMU style". This was funny. We, or I should say they, didn't quite live up to that - although they could still be drinking - but it's hard work to drink JMU style, I do know that.

It was a nice change of pace kind of day. I got another Frappucino which also made me happy. This base needs a Starbucks and a Chik-Fil-A. I am so fortunate to have friends in the area (part of the reason we came here instead of San Antonio) to be able to have these days and nights out, or even just go to over to their places for a getaway. So, so fortunate to have friends who care, who will take the time out of their day to drive me back and forth and just spend time with me.

When I got to Jason's room this morning, he was asleep, and his room was hot again. They can't seem to keep the temperature at a normal level in that place. So I don't think he slept well since it turned in to a sauna in there overnight. He woke up a little on the down side, and was almost excited to see me go! I was starting to feel some tension between us anyway, so I figured it was time for me to get out before we both started getting at each others throats. He's over it. Over the hospital, over the surgeries, the q4h vitals, phantom pains, skin graft pains, everything. He was excited for me to get out. But of course I felt terrible. I hate that I can go out and have some kind of fun and explore DC, and he can't right now. I know he will be able to eventually, but I still feel terrible that he's cooped up there in that bed, refusing to ask for help.

Tonight, I should have called him sooner, but I didn't. Around 730pm I asked if he ate dinner. "No. I was knocked out, I think I missed it." I asked why they didn't come around and ask if you were going to order - they have the past couple of days. "I don't know, I was asleep." I reminded him that another friend of mine, Jenna, brought us some food just yesterday that they put in the fridge. I told him to get his nurse to warm it up for him. "Ok" he says - yeah right, I know what this means. He thought he had something else left over that wasn't actually in there, so I think after that he gave up. So at 9pm when I asked if he ate "No, it wasn't in the fridge, but I'm fine." I knew he only had fruit for lunch, and maybe some chicken noodle soup because I ordered it for him. Which is not enough food for his 200lb frame. So thank God for smart phones - I googled the hospital number and got the secretary on his floor. I told her where the food was in the fridge, and asked her to warm it up for him because he never ate dinner. (Plus he has about a 10 pill cocktail around 930-10pm which upsets his stomach if he doesn't eat) She says "Ok, I'll check with him." I was like "No! Just go give it to him, he'll tell you no if you go in there first!" haha, so about 20 minutes later I get this text "You're so sly hahaha" Thank goodness they actually relayed the message to the nurse and he got some dinner.

But I was irritated that I even had to do that. I mean if patients don't call down, they should send up a generic tray, or at least have bag lunches or something available. Especially patients like him, who need to eat to promote healing and recovery, and just because he gets really hungry! So if I go home for a couple of days I'm going to have to call and make sure he remembers to order - or Beth suggested setting the alarm on his phone for meal times so he remembers to call in time. Not to mention the phone is on the other side of the room, and he can never reach it on his own. And, it's just an extension number so he can't call it from his cell phone.

The people who plan, design, and build these hospitals are pure genius.

I still wonder what everyone else thinks. Like, do they think "Oh I feel so bad for you because your husband has one leg. I wonder what that's like." I wonder if people will realize that he hasn't always had one leg, he was born with two, and functioned just like everyone else before August 13th. I wonder if all our friends will still treat him the same, or if it will be awkward when we all hang out again. I wonder if he'll be really self conscious about it. I wonder if he'll be able to find a good, genuine group of guy friends out here. I wonder if when we do go out with a group of friends if they'll all feel awkward because he only has one leg. The whole elephant in the room kind of thing. I wonder how he feels about all this since it is his leg. Or was.

Even though we've already reenacted the scene from Forrest Gump where LT Dan comes to his wedding with legs made out of space ship...

the unknown

2011-09-03T00:22:00.002-04:00

To say I have a fear of the unknown is like saying the grass isn't green or the sky isn't blue. I suppose everyone does to some extent, but lately I feel like mine is exponential.

First of all, I didn't roll out of bed until noon, and then as I was walking to the hospital I spotted my dad - good thing I woke up when I did or he would've wandered around this base forever. So we visited for a while, and he took me to Target (which thankfully isn't very far from here at all) and out to dinner. I got back a little late, but Jason's dad and step mom were visiting with him for the evening. I did finally buy a pair of maternity jeans, even though jeans are not my favorite...for some reason I look much more pregnant when I wear maternity clothes. Why is this?

But after his dad left, we had a nice long talk about our feelings and stuff. What it boils down to is, this sucks. And I'm worried about everything. You would think that after something like this happens, I would learn to prioritize my feelings and worries. But I can't seem to do that. Now, I'm worried about even more. When will all our stuff get out here. How long will it take. There is a point when I won't be able to fly out there and pack my things. I love my things. I shouldn't love my things because they're just things. But they make me feel at home.

Oh, I think all this started because as Dad and I were leaving, I took him by this infamous building 62 where we will spend our days as outpatient. I asked for a tour of one of the rooms. Bad idea. Very nice rooms. But now my head is spinning.

They're all furnished, but obviously not with our furniture. Ours probably wouldn't even fit. A room with a double bed, and another with a twin bed. Ew. We just recently upgraded to a queen bed, and now we're back down to a double. A desk with a computer in each room. A small dresser and flat screen in each room also. Giant handicapped bathroom - like a hospital bathroom - so no storage. Pretty big closets in each room. Small living area with love seat and one chair and another flat screen. The military must think flat screens will win us over. So here's where my head starts spinning.

Obviously not enough storage - I fill a closet and two dressers with just my clothes. He has a closet and one dresser with his. Maybe we should bring a couple dressers and put them in the closets. But do we have to physically move them all the way to whatever room we're on? I'll be too pregnant to do this, and Jason obviously can't help, and our parents are getting old. Can we rearrange the furniture that is so neatly placed along all the walls? Do we HAVE to have the computers and desks in both rooms? They take up a lot of space. What do I need from Colorado. How many dressers? I don't want to get here and decide we need stuff and go out and buy it because everything is in storage and then we'll be left with double stuff when we already have too much stuff as it is. What about all our holiday decorations? Just go buy more? Ugh. Is that stuff necessary? No. Bathroom storage. There is none. No bath tub either, which is fine in the beginning with a baby, but I guess he'll just have to get used to showers eventually. Where will we put a crib? A changing table? We weren't going to get a changing table. I was trying to be practical and use a dresser that we already have. But now I don't know what's the best thing to do. A glider? I really wish we could bring our bed, but I'm sure that would be a pain to move. But would they let us?! Then I worry that wherever they put our stuff in storage, will end up on one of those Storage Wars shows and all our stuff will be auctioned off for $300. Not likely, but these are the things I worry about.

We're not allowed to hang anything on the walls right now. We'll need our filing cabinets with all the personal info crap we have. What about my diplomas? I don't really want those sitting in storage somewhere. But does it really matter? The giant box of memorabilia I have from high school and college? Guess that will have to go. The garage full of stuff that I don't even know what half of it is. The inherited dishes that my dad drove out to us last October which I told him was a bad idea...now we have to pack them back up and pray they don't break on the way back. The thousand kitchen cabinets we have full of dishes and fun things will have to be consolidated to about 10 cabinets now. I hope our big black Friday TV doesn't get stolen in the moving/storage process. I'm sure we'll have to bring along the xbox. Yay. I wonder how long he'll use the physical therapy excuse for playing video games :)

It is way past my bed time, but considering I've only been up for 12 hours makes it less bad I guess. Whenever I sit in his room, I catch myself periodically making sure he's still breathing. Is this the nurse, mother, or paranoia in me?

I think he hit the nail on the head tonight during our discussion. We had moved away from all our family, out to Colorado. We made it on our own, we were doing everything by ourselves. And now we are completely dependent on everyone else. It is not fun. It's like all those times you said "I'd give anything to be in high school again." Knowing what we know now, as adults, no you wouldn't. I hate the fact that half of our belongings will be God knows where. I'm sure another half will end up at my parents house or his. And now I'm already accumulating stuff in my little hotel room, and we're going to require a van just to move all the crap out of his hospital room. That's probably the type A in me, but I just can't function with all my parts in different places. We picked all those things out together, and everything, well most everything in that house has meaning. I would be devastated if it was all lost too. But, they're just things Stephanie.

I hate that we're just waiting. Waiting to find out when he'll be outpatient. Waiting to find out when I can go back to Colorado to finish everything there, or if I can even go back. Waiting for more surgeries. Waiting to walk again, to be normal again. Waiting to have our family in a proper home, with a yard so our dog can be ours again too.

We were so distant from our families, not on purpose, and only by distance. It's not like we didn't talk to them - I talk to my mom every day, still. But it was nice to have that distance sometimes, although we'd never know it then. When we were there we always felt left out because we were so far away and everyone else was somewhere on the East Coast. We felt like the oddballs of the family for being so far away. Now, we would give anything to go back. He would give anything (besides his right leg) to go back to Afghanistan and for life to be normal again. But then we'd never have the appreciation that we do now. So one day when we do finally buy a house we'll appreciate being on our own and doing everything for ourselves. Again. I hope.

He's still breathing. Good thing. Baby is awake like normal, another good thing. I don't want to scream at the top of my lungs that 'my husband got his leg blown off and that you should have more appreciation for your boring normal life' when I go out in public anymore. So that's a good thing. He's still the man I married, and I still love him the same. That's another good thing. We have the essentials for life right now, and that's a good thing. If only I could turn my brain off, that would be an awesome thing...

pajama jeans

2011-09-01T22:02:00.003-04:00

It may or may not be almost time for maternity pants. Crap. I just ordered two more pairs of scrub pants since that's all I'm wearing...and now they're gonna be too small. I'm ok until I sit down, and especially after I eat, and then they get a little tight...

Anyway, at least today is over. I'm emotionally drained from all this, and today it kind of came to a head. It felt like we were kind of getting in to a routine, and then on my way to the PACU to see Jason, I randomly ran in to a lady from SFAC and she was telling me about all this stuff I was supposed to be doing but had no idea. She was like "Yeah, don't you remember? I gave you that checklist..." What I remember is you coming to his room and telling me that in the process of Walter Reed moving over to Bethesda, everyone was coming to the bedside to do the job that needed to be done, so I didn't have to go anywhere to do anything. I don't remember you telling me that I still had to go to the family member orientation and I still need to go see people from finance and casualty affairs. I don't remember you telling me that I have to get a travel voucher every 15 days for per diem, or renew my TTO orders every month, or sign in at building 62 once a week.

So I go see Jason in the PACU, and he's doing well, but in pain, and severely annoyed with the staff. We asked for a urinal, so they put it on the table at the end of the bed where he can't reach it, good thing I'm there. So he's trying to pee sitting up, which I'm sure is very hard for men, and in walks some doctor. We were like "Uhh, he's trying to pee, could you give him a minute?!" She says "Oh sure" and closes the curtain and stands there and stares at him. Really? So he asked me to have her leave, and I'm growing some balls now, because now I'm allowed to be a little more outspoken with doctors since they're not my colleagues. I asked her to step out, and she cocked a little attitude and said "Well, I'm just here to fix the wound vac." I said "I know, and I'll let you know when he's finished." So after he practically fills the urinal, she's very antsy to get back in there. She looks at the wound vac and sees that the canister just wasn't connected properly which is why the leak alarm was going off. She cocks an attitude with the nurse and says "It would've been nice if someone would have troubleshot before they called me about this." Oh man, I was so close to being like "You're going to need to take your disagreement elsewhere." But she proceeds to start talking to me about the surgery. But by that point I was so turned off by her, I couldn't actively listen. I have never seen this woman, but I think she was one of the orthopedic surgeons. Not a fan.

So that was how our day started. Once he was settled back in his room, I went down to find this infamous building 62 (which will be our home for quite a while after he's discharged, by the way). I go up to where SFAC is now located, and of course the people I need to see aren't there. But I still go over some checklist thing, and talk to Casualty Affairs about the orders, then go to Finance where he confuses me to no end and I just leave fighting tears because I just don't understand. Finally make it outside and away from all the people and just cry. I was just overwhelmed at that point. I still am, but I guess I'm just not letting myself think about it right now. It's a holiday weekend, and we're in a government facility, which means everything will be closed until next Tuesday. I did email the social worker to come and see us a couple times a week so that I can just be sure I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be, because apparently I'm not catching on to everything.

I'm tired of people telling us he won't be assigned here. I'm tired of wondering what we're supposed to do with all our stuff and a house we're paying rent on and not living in. I'm tired of waiting to get orders to go back to Colorado to finish things. If I have to wait too much longer, I won't be able to go back out there at all because of the pregnancy. Maybe that will speed them along...but most likely not.

I'm seriously considering getting a pair of pajama jeans. They have to be perfect maternity pants. I have never been one to wear jeans everywhere, I just don't find them comfortable. Which is why I'm always wearing my scrub pants now. But now I'm thinking I should've ordered a bigger size. Ugh.

I'm feeling extra exhausted today, just literally drained, so I'm really going to try to get to sleep at a decent hour...

that guy

2011-09-01T00:01:00.002-04:00

I have to say - this baby is very punctual. Here we are, midnight again, and he's bouncing around like normal at this hour. Maybe it's because this is when I get to lay down and he has more room to stretch out - but I just think he's that smart.

I also have to say, Jason is one of the strongest people I know. I would never be able to endure all this. He's going back to surgery in the morning, and he will be the first one to go, so I probably won't get up early enough to see him off. This may make me look sound a bad wife, but I can only do so much. The reality of it is, if the situation were reversed, I would hate to be by myself for that. I'm sure I'd be a blubbering mess all the time. He's adapted so well so far. We still have quite a learning curve, but he's really doing well. Yesterday when we went to McDonald's, he found a place to park while I ordered - I could hear a bunch of chairs scraping across the floor and wondered if that was him trying to make room. When I got to the table, he said some guy came to help him because he knocked a chair over trying to fit at the table. If that was me, I would've just sat there and cried. He just laughed it off. But I know he's feeling the tears on the inside. I just can't imagine how he feels. Even though that sounds so cliche.

There's always this van outside one of the buildings I walk by during the day for Ride 2 Recovery. So I googled it. Looks intense. I'm trying to figure out what we're going to do to stay active and involved, especially now that we're receiving all this assistance, I feel like we need to give back. Obviously not right this moment, but eventually. Anyway, the ride is more like a Challenge, and it's 350-450 miles of biking over a period of a week I think? I know the Wounded Warrior Project does a lot for soldiers like Jason, but I don't want to take and not give - I just want it to be something meaningful. That, and his job after he's discharged is literally to go to PT and get better. And I won't be working. We're going to have a lot of time on our hands - he's talking about staring school (yippee!!) and I'm already planning our trips to the Zoo and National Monuments via Metro, and maybe a family vacation once baby is here and he is more rehabilitated. Not that this is ideal, but what a wonderful silver lining - to have him home and so, so available for the family at a time like this when we're bringing a new life in to the world. Money will be tight, for sure, (I'm dreading that part) but we'll be making plenty of priceless memories as a new family of three.

We watched Soul Surfer tonight, kind of ironic. But a good movie, a little inspiring. He says at least once every day "I still can't believe I'm that guy" - as in that guy that all the other guys talk about during deployment "Man, remember when so-and-so got hit?!" Yeah, now he's that guy.

He seems to be getting phantom pains more frequently. He says they go away when he looks at his nub and tells his brain the foot isn't there anymore. But he definitely gets annoyed with them. A constant painful reminder that he no longer has a foot.

But he did say he would get another pedicure with me, as long as he gets it for half price :)

how how

2011-08-31T00:16:00.003-04:00

So by trying to blog earlier, I still manage to be awake at midnight. And, I use the walk back to the hotel to reflect on the day, and I'm usually writing my blog in my head as I walk...which is why I now have two blogs for one night.

On the walk home tonight, I noticed the crickets - not the constant chirping ones, the ones that are more rhythmic sounding. And I instantly wished I was back at 4-H camp in the Shenandoah mountains for the summer. For some reason, those certain crickets, and the cool night, made me think I was standing in the parking lot of Fairfax singing 'America' with a flashlight, trying to get about 300 kids and teens to walk in to campfire in a somewhat organized manner. Either that, or squeezing them all in to the campfire circle. We always fit everyone :) "Hands up! Scoooooooooot!"

That was when life was so simple. That summer job was the shit. It didn't pay for anything, but it was so, so fun.

Side note; the hotel does have MTV, and I am currently catching up on Teen Mom, although I think I just caught the end of it. Bummer again.

Also, as I left the hospital, I wanted so bad to jump in the escort van so they could drive me back to the hotel, but I forced myself to walk. It's only about a quarter of a mile, if that, but I was feeling lazy tonight. My toes were feeling swollen from sitting too long, so I knew I should walk instead. It is a nice night, much cooler than usual for August on the East Coast (at least that I remember), but I can still feel a hint of humidity that I know wouldn't be there in Colorado.

I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to use the remaining 15 personal training sessions I have at 24hr Fitness...there isn't one close to here...but I have been tempted to just break out the push ups in the room. Just the thought of touching those floors with any part of my skin gives me the willies. I can feel myself getting out of shape, and I was barely starting to get in shape. We have declared tomorrow a no soda day. We've had entirely too much of it these past two weeks. Must. Push. Water.

Today at the OB clinic I saw all the good little pregnant mommies with their water bottles. And I have one too. Except it was empty. Oops. I'm working on it...

I also purchased a Snuggie tonight - for the freezing conditions Jason prefers his room. I had them turn it up just a little yesterday, and when I walked in today, it was like a sauna. Oops again. So they turned it back down finally tonight, and as I left I could feel it becoming frigid again. No happy medium. Such is life, right?

finally...

2011-08-30T21:59:00.003-04:00

We have WiFi in the room - so here I sit, at a much more decent hour, writing this post. Trying to find MTV on this stupid TV so we can watch Teen Mom :)

We had a good day today, it was nice that it was just Jason and I for most of the day, although it didn't start until noon. I had to go to a transfer in OB class, which of course my name wasn't on the list, and I couldn't remember who called me to tell me to come today. And of course they gave me attitude about it. I wanted to SCREAM "my husband just had his leg blown off, i was not paying attention to who told me to come today!!! just let me in for the love of God!!!" I know, that excuse is probably getting old. But she did let me in. And of course I got to fill out more paperwork, and listen to all the dumb questions these girls had. When they tell you 'there are no dumb questions' they're wrong. These girls...oh my. I've always said I think there should be an application process in order to have children. This woman was literally walking us through filling out the paper work - step by step - and they couldn't even follow those directions. And yes, we are breastfeeding friendly, so if you can't or don't want to breastfeed then I guess your baby will starve. Ok, I'm irritable today.

Anyway, this whole process took 3 hours - fill out paperwork, learn about all the classes offered, take a tour, then go to appointment. All is well, heartbeat in the 140's, fundal height measuring at 21 weeks, which is right on, and so far, about an 8lb weight gain. Bleh.

So, by the time I made it up to Jason, it was noon, and we were both starving because neither of us had eaten. I'm going to get the night nurse to call his breakfast order down before I leave, because he won't wake up in time to do it, and then they bring him the pills, and he throws up if he doesn't eat first. They started the call down and order on your own time thing yesterday - good idea, but there are so many people in and out, or he has to go downstairs for various things, the time quickly passes, and then it's too late. Tonight, we did order dinner, and it was surprisingly good - we ordered enough for both of us to eat...haha working the system. But for lunch, we were going to go to Subway which is in the hospital - but it was also the crazy lunch rush, it was packed, and so was the DFAC, so we said eff it, let's blow this joint and go to McDonalds. And we did. Which technically isn't in the hospital, but no one really ever told us we can't leave leave, haha, and I know better, but it's just across the street a little bit! It was nice for him to get the fresh air, and there were wheelchair ramps all the way down. But we are so tired of McDonald's! It's so funny because when he was deployed that's all he wanted, was a double quarter pounder with cheese no pickles - and now he's so over them. Although he's never gotten back up to the double quarter pounder, he's still working on the regular quarter pounder :) Goals.

Then we stopped by and I pre-registered for admission, then we went and bought the Army Times and went up to the Red Cross to get some more velcro clothes. Those things are pretty genius. But, by this time, he was exhausted. Falling asleep at the joystick. So we came back and he took a little nappy nap. He also went to PT for the first time before lunch downstairs, so that made it extra exhausting. He said he did some stretching, and semi flutter kicks with some weights on his thighs. He said he was sweating like crazy and was so confused as to why it was so hard. But, he doesn't get that laying in bed for 2 weeks will knock you out - plus your body is trying to heal these massive wounds at the same time. It's hard work!

Overall, an eventful day for us, but probably not for normal folk. Now I have to figure out how to get our dog up here for a visit, and my car.

No luck on the MTV, bummer.

I'm thinking tomorrow we'll tackle hair washing. Hmmm...doing big things here in Bethesda!

decent hour

2011-08-29T23:52:00.002-04:00

I tried to get back to the room and in bed at a decent hour - but always seems to be right around midnight. Which is normally fine, but tomorrow I have to get up early like normal people do because I have an OB appointment. I don't think it's a real appointment, because in the military you always have to go to the 'fake' appointment first and then you get to make your real appointment. Seriously. I have to go to a 'transfer in' class type thing since I'm transferring care to this hospital. Fabulous. So that's at 0900! Yikes. I haven't gotten out of bed before 9 in a long time. Woe is me, right?!

Anyway, I think they're finally getting wireless hooked up on his floor, so maybe I'll be able to write these posts a little earlier in the evening. We had to move rooms again today, I was pissed. It was just starting to feel a little cozy, and they made us move because they needed the video monitoring capabilities the room he was in had. We just moved across the hall - and the room feels like Antarctica which he loves, but we lost our good view. And it's a negative pressure room, so the door slams every damn time someone comes in and out which is annoying. Can't win them all I guess.

Had a visit from the RearD Commander and a retired Colonel that's the honorary Colonel of his brigade (?!) I'm not really sure how that works...either way, we talked to them for a bit.

Sounds pretty promising that we'll be assigned here once he's discharged to outpatient so all our stuff will be able to be moved out here eventually. I'm thinking it won't be until early October at this point. The skin grafts are taking forever.

He had surgery today, mostly just wound wash outs. The wound vac on his left leg was replaced, and also on his fingers, but also they put another layer of integra down on his fingers, and hopefully this takes so that two weeks from today, he'll get the skin grafts on his fingers. Hopefully skin graft on his leg this Friday! And, the leg surgeon (my favorite) said he'd send me all the pictures! How awesome :)

We ate a shoppette dinner tonight. It was romantic. I went down to the gas station and got frozen chicken nuggets and mac and cheese to make up in his room. Also got lots of unnecessary snacks, candy, and drinks! It was healthy, to say the least. But, they started this new thing where you call down to order your food - and we had visitors right around dinner time, and by the time they left, the DFAC (or galley since we're in a Navy Facility) was closed.

We played Words with Friends for a while, and gave up on watching TV because it's satellite and turns off about every 3 minutes. For Real. No DVD player yet either.

He's gone through a lot of morphine today, and it kinda weirds me out, it just sounds like a lot, but they also took out his nerve block and he had surgery today, so I'm hoping that was all part of the increased pain. It's mostly in his left arm, which is where the nerve block was going. So this is the first time he's felt his arm since it happened - I think. I'm not sure when he got it, but he's had it since he's been in Bethesda at least. I remember talking to him in Germany and him saying his arm was numb, so it could've been even earlier. Either way, he'll need to get that arm back eventually. The tubes are coming out slowly but surely. The last two will be here for a while, the wound vacs. He's nervous about the pain of skin grafting, more on the donor site than on the actual wound.

"If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be in a lot more pain" he says. Well that's because I hound the nurses about his PRN medications - which he always forgets about. And he does sleep through the pain even though a lot of nurses assume that because you're asleep, you're not in pain. So I told him he has to call them if he's in pain! He hates calling the nurses. When I got there today, he had been holding his pee for who knows how long because he wanted the curtain closed! Really?! Men.

Overall good day, just getting tired. I have been able to lay with him, but it's never for very long because people are in and out all day long, or he needs something. Some days I just wish it could just be me and him ALL DAY! I never thought that's what I'd be wishing for, but it is. We do enjoy others company though, so I guess it's a catch-22. It's just tiring sometimes to entertain guests, even though we're not really doing anything.

It still sucks. I still can't believe this is where I'm living, and this is how I spend my days now. I still don't know when I'll be able to sleep next to my husband again. However, it is quickly becoming my new normal. But then again, when you have no choice, it's amazing how fast anything can become normal.

Birthdays

2011-08-27T22:56:00.004-04:00

Your birthday, the anniversary of your birth, 25 years old, a quarter of a century, half way to 50...

No matter which way you look at it, you're celebrating life. And that, we did today :)

Jason turned 25! Lower car insurance (although I'm not sure when he'll even be driving again), and that's about all I can think of for 25. They get less and less fun the higher they go. I'm sure he never pictured this for his birthday celebration. I'm sure he never thought he would be in this situation in his life. Who would. I never thought I would be, either.

From some of the brief research I did moments after I found out about his injuries, I found that families in situations like mine celebrate 'alive days'. The anniversary of the day of the incident every year, to be the 'alive day' - if we decide to do that, August will be a busy month of celebrating life!

He enjoyed all the cards he got from various friends and family back home (both VA and Colorado), although it was kind of like a sick joke to have to open a card with one working hand :) They're all currently hanging in his room (which I'm sure violates some sort of fire code, but whatever).

Today was a much better day mobility wise as well - they took his epidural out, so he had a ton more movement in his legs. He transferred himself practically from bed to wheelchair and wheelchair to toilet and then back again. He gets frustrated now though, sitting and having his legs dangling, and being able to put one on the ground, but not the other. Totally throws off his balance. He's also caught himself multiple times tonight trying to cross his right leg over his left while lying in bed...and that doesn't work, or even just bending his knee up and resting on his foot...which isn't there. So I'm sure when he has the prosthesis this will be much easier, but never the same.

We seem to be much closer emotionally, talking about things in normal conversation that others might never say to their spouse. I've always been one to put it all out there, usually too much, and it usually gets me in trouble. But I've never been able to keep my feelings to myself, especially to him. Some may disagree with that, saying he doesn't need the added stress, but he's my husband, and best friend, and the only one who would understand, even a little bit, how I'm feeling in this situation, because he's going through it too. And we're in this together. We've always been able to communicate - it just hasn't always been in a productive way. We're working on that :) It's pretty hard to argue now though, with the circumstances. But we're not in the daily grind anymore, either. It is refreshing that we're getting along so well through all of this. Not that we argued terribly before, but we were definitely having a harder time understanding and empathizing with each others perspective during that first year of marriage. It's just nice that, despite the circumstances, I can show up there every day and we get along. I can almost feel us growing closer through it all while it's happening, instead of pulling us apart. This will be a bond we will have that very few others will, and it will be that much harder to break.

Sadie seems to be adjusting well to her new home in Virginia. Daddy even called home today to check and make sure the neighbors let her out. He didn't want to leave her. ha! This dog has given him a new purpose in life I think :) But as much as she drove me crazy being right under my feet all the time, I miss that dog. I know Jason misses her more. She was his great idea! But we couldn't have gotten more lucky with a rescue dog. She is absolutely wonderful, and beautiful. I'm sad that we will be apart from her for so long, and I worry about the transition with the baby/toddler depending on when it is. I hope she doesn't forget we are her original owners, and she will eventually be coming back to live with us one day, we just don't know when.

My favorite part of the day is night time, when everyone leaves for the day and it's just him and I. I feel like I might've said this before. Either way, it's just nice. We can reflect on the day, catch up on our Words with Friends games, do our stretches, and think about what we want to do tomorrow. Maybe we'll venture downstairs tomorrow for the first time! And if they tell me no, you know I'll probably take him anyway :) I make sure he's got a full cup of water for the night, and his phone and call bell are near. We pseudo hug and 'snuggle' as much as possible, and then I wait for his Seroquel to kick in, and I leave for the night. I still hate leaving him, but it is getting easier, especially as he gets stronger. And he's getting stronger by the day, for sure.

perspective

2011-08-27T00:07:00.003-04:00

So, why did this have to happen to us?

Just wondering. It sucks. No one else is affected. Just us.

Everyone else can still go back to their normal jobs, work, and lives, etc.

I don't feel like anyone really understands and is grateful for his sacrifice.

He chose this job, and he said today he'd go back in the infantry if he could. (which he probably could, but we won't even go there) He loves it. I don't know why. I'll never get it.

But a lot of others don't get it either. And I get very irritated with everyone who just has a normal life right now. Even the nurses who are just here doing their job, doing the job I normally do and don't think twice about (even though it's not in this setting), I don't think they really get it. They must be numb to it.

I mean, we've got people talking to us who we haven't heard from in years, expressing their condolences and gratefulness that he's ok. But it just doesn't seem genuine. Am I being too picky? Yes, most likely.

All he keeps saying lately is, "Man, they never tell you about this part of it, or show it in the movies..." It's true, they don't tell you about the ungodly amount of stool softeners and laxatives you have to take because you're also getting about 5 different kinds of narcotics. And, oh by the way, your whole left side is numb so it's not like you can just get up and walk to the bathroom, and you couldn't anyway because you're missing part of your right leg. (He wonders if he'll wake up in the middle of the night and forget that foot is gone, and fall on the floor when he tries to go to the bathroom) They don't tell you that you can't shower for who knows how long because of the incisions and sutures and surgeries still to come which will involve skin grafts and wound vacs until the skin grafts are healed. We asked last week when he could shower - "Well, you can get your right hand wet..." Yeah, that helps, thanks. They don't tell you that you pretty much won't be able to do anything for yourself until these wounds are healed. That you probably will feel terrible about yourself and the fact that you're depending on everyone else to do things for you when before you were just on a normal patrol and everything was ok. You could poop like normal, take a shower all by yourself, get yourself dressed, tie your own shoes, prepare your own meals, and cut up your own food. To take this away from a 25 year old man, is torture.

As I'm learning, men have to do things for themselves, it part of that Y chromosome I guess. And I can't imagine what this must feel like for him. It's in my nature to want to do this for him, both as a woman and a nurse, so I get comfort in being able to help him, but I'm positive he's cursing the moment he stepped in that certain place every single time I have to help him with something.

As I was pseudo hugging him tonight, I said "I still can't believe we're in this situation." It's not really like I have my husband back, because I don't. We can't do the things we used to do. We can't talk about the things we used to talk about. We can't just be alone for days like we used to. Even if family isn't visiting, there are doctors, nurses, or corpsmen in and out.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm guilty of staring at people out in public. You are too. I usually am trying to figure out what's wrong with them or what happened to them if there's a physical handicap. I think I'm going to find him that t-shirt that says "I had a blast in Afghanistan". But now we get to be those people being stared at. He hates being the center of attention, much less having any attention brought on him. We should be ok through the winter time, but as summer approaches, and shorts and t shirts season is back, there will be stares. They'll stare at his arms and legs and wonder what happened. But I bet they won't think "Man, I bet he lost his leg for this country and everyone in it, I should go thank him. And then I should probably put my life in perspective." Then they'll probably think "That must be his wife, I wonder what it's like to be married to someone with a fake leg." Jason hates when I care what other people think. Because he's a man, and I guess that kind of stuff doesn't affect men, although I know the stares will. But it affects me. I don't want peoples pity stares. He's my husband, and he will have a fake leg, and it's going to take me a while to adjust to that. But life goes on. Clearly.

I've always said "I could never just drop everything and move like some people do. I have to mentally prepare myself first!" But somehow, I did it. And I didn't like it. I knew I would always be worried about the little things at home - the things I'm worried about now, but keep somehow putting off figuring out. Because I'm technically still not moved.

I really think someone is playing a sick joke on me. They know how much I worry about insignificant things, and how much my things at home matter to me, even though they shouldn't, because they're things. So I feel like someone just said, "She needs to learn what life is really all about." And here I am, living out of two suitcases in a hotel for far longer than I've ever wanted to be in a hotel, walking to visit my husband in the hospital every day, who can not catch a freaking break, only thinking about what we're going to eat for dinner, and whether or not he's brushed his teeth yet, because if I think about more than that, I won't be able to get out of bed.

"Do you have trouble getting around?"

2011-08-25T23:12:00.003-04:00

You know, the hover round commercial with the old people at the edge of the Grand Canyon, this is what Jason was quoting when I got there early this afternoon.

He had been up and around the halls for the first time since the incident. In his motorized wheelchair. He can only use is right hand at the moment, so he has a sweet joystick to control his wheelchair. "I got up to 2mph today!" haha, small victories.

But, I missed it all. I was very mopey this morning, being selfish in the hotel room lying in bed. So I didn't get to see him up in his chair at all. And of course that made me more upset. I can't be there all the time, but I still feel like I miss everything when I'm not there. I'm going to try to get out of here a little sooner tomorrow morning. His mom has been going in the mornings, and that's helped a little with my emotional state so at least I know he's not alone, but I still hate missing it. And she's leaving soon, so I'm really going to have to start getting up sooner. He has a hard time keeping all the doctors straight and what they say about different things, so I really want to be there for them too.

A nursing school friend and old childhood friend came to visit this afternoon, so that was refreshing. To have some of my friends visit instead of his. That sounds bad. But they're just as concerned about him as they are me, and it was nice to just be relaxed and gossip about back home and say bad words and stuff. hahaha! We ate pizza, and they didn't give us ranch, so that was a huge bummer. But it sufficed. I now have a season of I Love Lucy on DVD to fall asleep too thanks to Tammy :)

Looks like he won't be eligible for promotion until October now, because he has no paper trail proving that he went to this certain person to update his records at the end of JUNE - so before July 8th (which was the cut off for August's points) - how incredibly irritating. If points go up again, he'll just have to keep waiting and waiting. It's like he just can't catch a freaking break. What more does the man have to do!? It will be a year in October that he's been eligible for promotion, by the way. The system is absolutely ridiculous.

I can't believe it's only been a little over a week since he's been here in Md. It feels like it's been a month already. He's made insane progress over this week though, but when you're going through it, it's hard to keep that in perspective. He still feels like it's moving too slow. But he's got so much more strength - he got a trapeze the other day so he can pull himself up in bed better - and he's rolling to each side mostly on his own. His legs are still numb but that's because of the epidural. It seems like he's requiring less and less epidural to control his pain so that's good, I'm hoping we can wean it off soon. Skin grafts next week for the leg, fingers are going to take a little longer just because they're the fingers and more complicated. His 'residual limb' is done - he got the shrinker wrap on it today and will probably start the prosthesis casting in a couple weeks! Of all his injuries, that was obviously the most serious, but it's going to heal first, no doubt. His fingers will be the most complicated and frustrating for him I'm sure. We're stretching our muscles every day, but that's as much as we do so far. His appetite is increasing little by little, but still not where it used to be. He gets protein shakes with every meal but doesn't always drink them.

Our dog (and my car) safely made it to Virginia last night! Mom said Sadie was very interested in sniffing around all the new places, inside and out. She said she has a beautiful coat, and she can tell we take really good care of her. Now, how she will look after my dad gets through with her is another story :) I take her to Petco for grooming about once a month or so - mainly because I don't want to clean up all her dog hair out of my bath tub. Plus they clip her nails and brush her teeth and brush her out for an hour. My dad is way to cheap to pay for that. He'll probably just put her in the shower with him. He doesn't think she eats enough - but she's soooo picky. Probably the pickiest dog I've ever seen. She'll graze on her food all day instead of gobbling it up immediately like most dogs. I just remember our dog growing up - she was such a redneck dog. Dad fed her everything off our plates - and I remember putting my plate on the floor so she could lick it before we washed it. I will give Sadie table scraps sometimes, but too much will upset her tummy, she's not used to all that. She's definitely a beggar, she'll plop her head right on your lap and stare at you until you give her something. And we buy her the super expensive food that you can only buy at PetSmart or Petco. Dad will probably shit his pants when he sees how much it costs. But, I want to get her up here to see Jason. I'm tempted to find a Therapy Dog vest and smuggle her in. They should make exceptions for situations like this - it's got to have been proven to be so wonderful for their recovery. Jason said hi to her on the phone today and she started barking a ton - she never does that, we usually have to provoke her for a few minutes to get her to bark once! It was interesting - I so hope she recognizes him, he will be so heartbroken if she doesn't.

He tells me I'm the best wife ever, every night. Although, I definitely don't feel like it. I'm not doing anything anyone else wouldn't do - maybe a little extra nursing care, but that's in my blood. "What did I do to deserve you?" haha, I clearly didn't have an answer for that. "No other wife would do this, or know to do this." (catheter cleaning, etc) "You're doing such a great job, (we're reading Men are from Mars Women are from Venus right now, and we've been practicing saying these 5 words a lot!) I really appreciate everything you do. I know I can't show it right now, but I do." I said "I know, let's just go buy some diamonds when this is all said and done". He nodded his head "Ok sounds good." Small victories :)

Midnight

2011-08-24T23:48:00.002-04:00

I'm sitting here watching Jurassic Park with the computer lying on my belly - and watching this baby make the computer move with all his kicking. He's up at midnight like clock work. This is not good. Still, can't wait for him. I can. But, I'm excited for his arrival. We're pretty set on one name, but I'm not fully convinced yet. I think Jason felt him move tonight, but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling. It will be easier when he can lay in bed next to me and just watch my belly move, but we can't even do that yet.

Jason and I have decided we're ready to go back to a normal life now. This sucks. No more silly arguments about where we should go for dinner. "What do you feel like eating?" "I don't know." "Ok, how about ____." "Nah, I don't really feel like eating that." "Ok, well what do you feel like eating?" "I don't know..." and from there the argument usually ensued :)

But, no more of that. Now it's all talk about land mines and what they look like and how you find them. Or about whatever surgery we had today, I think it was his 8th. Or when can we get in a wheelchair, or go outside, or get the epidural turned off, or get out of this stupid room. No more normal every day talk. Can't really play cards, he only can use his right hand right now. We Facebook a little, and I teach him how to use his new phone. Then we try to figure out something for dinner because the hospital food is stereotypically terrible. By the time I realize we don't have any plans for dinner, it's too late to call one of the millions of people who have so kindly offered to bring us a meal. I need to make a schedule.

We decided that this is worse than deployment. He's here. And I'm here. But we're still sleeping in separate beds, and I can't even get a real hug from him. I have to leave every night. Well I don't have to, but I make myself. Trust me, I've tried to get in that bed with him, even just to lay next to him. But the couple times I've tried, it makes him slide down for some reason, and then all his tubes are in the way and then I'm wedged between him and the side rail and I can't move and we still can't really snuggle. I just keep picturing all the patients I walked in on in the middle of the night sleeping in bed with their husbands, and thought I'd be able to be that annoying spouse. Guess not. Instead, I'll just tell them how to do their jobs for now.

Tomorrow is hygiene day. Poor thing hasn't showered since who knows when. He already takes the longest showers I've ever seen someone take - I can only imagine how long this next one will be, whenever that is. So for now, it's just bed baths. Good thing his wife knows how to give those :)

We joked that we'd make a hand out for people when they come - to answer any questions so we wouldn't have to go through that conversation every time.

Probably the smartest thing I ever did was bring home all my scrub pants. I thought they'd be one of those things I'd never wear but I packed them anyway, but really, they're the most comfortable pants I have besides pajamas, and I'd look like a slob wearing those every day. I only wear the pants though, I figured if I wore the tops, that might be a little too much. I mean, they look like half way normal pants. Just in brighter colors.

One of my friends might visit tomorrow afternoon. Yay! It's been so hard with family wanting to visit, I've felt like I can't have any of my friends visit. I don't want to leave him up here, he doesn't get to leave, and at least I can walk around and leave the hospital, that's fine with me. I'm generally a loner I guess, and I really don't mind being by myself or just sitting in the room with him. I'm not one of those people that has to be doing something all the time (although I am worrying about something all the time). I like the solitude every now and then. I'm sure it will get old eventually, and I will have my car soon and be able to go other places. So maybe I'll take a drive down to good ol KG, but not right now. He's just now been here a week!

So, tomorrow will likely be another relaxed day, and I'm excited for that.

SSG Searles?

2011-08-23T22:48:00.004-04:00

Not much to post about today, but I'm sure I'll still write a book.

I just posted this on Facebook - but I'll say it again here - IF MY HUSBAND DOESN'T GET PROMOTED SOON, THESE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO WISH I DIDN'T EXIST. I'm so serious it's not even funny. In order to get promoted they have to pass a board - he did that last October - almost a freaking year he's been waiting for this. Then he has to make points - they get points for everything, classes, awards, civilian education, deployment time, etc. He has around 440 I think, but not sure exactly. The point requirements for each rank change each month based on the need. Well, he made points for August - meaning he should've been promoted on the 1st. SOMEONE didn't do their job and update whatever was supposed to be updated in the right amount of time, and so it didn't qualify him. WTF. I've told everyone I can tell - supposedly some Sergeant Major is "tracking it" (i love how the army always says that stupid shit) - the RearD CO knows, and our liaison here knows.

The points for September came out today, and they're back up to 458, so I don't think he made it, unless they count the purple heart (which from googling I think is worth 30 points, so that will make a huge difference) - but I doubt the Army will be able to update anything in a timely manner. So, you better believe I'll be on the phone to these *choice words* people soon. Like probably tomorrow.

Really? I mean, REALLY? Because some dumbass private didn't do his stupid little job that requires the mental capacity of a 2 year old, my husband gets screwed? And then goes out and does his job just like any other day even though he got totally screwed, and then gets even MORE screwed, and he still doesn't get what he freaking earned. It's not even like I'm asking for a consolation prize because he stepped on a freaking land mine - he EARNED this! I mean, I'm sure I don't know all the inner workings of it all - but I know what is right. And that is not right. Ugh. Can you tell this ruffles my feathers a tad?! ha.

We got a(nother) new room today. On a different floor, that's all completely redone. I find it hilarious that these giant governmental organizations are so incredibly unorganized. I feel like I could do a better job. The logistics are just...not there. It's so ironic that we are doing this same thing at work (well my old work) on a much smaller scale by merging two units - and here they're merging the Army and the Navy - and the organization is just as poor. We moved in to a private room, no complaints there. But no internet, not sure how the TV works, crap is still unplugged everywhere, no boards to write the nurses names on. Little things, but things I think are important. Because now there will likely be a gaggle of people in and out doing 'finishing touches'. Just get the shit done, and then move everyone. What's so un-logical about that? If that's a word. And yes, we can live without internet and TV - but when you've been stuck in the hospital for weeks, these things are necessary for patients sanity!!

We experienced our first earthquake today - and it's been the only thing on the news since. Geez. Schools are closed and everything. How ridiculous. Jason was convinced this is the end of the world. He said "Where do I go? You guys can all at least just run somewhere! The whole lower half of my body is numb! I'd be screwed!" Joking of course. But still, just what we need this week - for a building to collapse around us. Go figure.

Mom visited for the evening, so that was nice. She made us some Shepherd's Pie. Yum.

Surgery tomorrow. Wash out and wound vac replacement. Maybe vac removal from left bicep if wound looks approximated enough. Mostly left hand manipulation though, maybe replacing the pins, and adding a new layer of integra that will then get a skin graft two weeks from tomorrow. He got discouraged with this, thinking this recovery is taking much longer than he had hoped. It looks like the other two guys that this happened to, are already outpatient and in rehab now, and it may be a long while before he gets to that point because of his hand injury and the effect it will have on his PT and OT. But I suspect that they will get him up in a wheel chair this week sometime.

I saw a guy with one leg on a segway smoking a cigarette today. Side note. Pick your battles I guess :)

He turns 25 Saturday - yay! Lower car insurance, although I'm thinking about calling them anyway because I have no idea when he'll be driving again. Lots of family visitors again. I'm really hoping to try to get him outside so we can bring the dog up to see him. Who knows.

Another good day for the most part - I hope to get an OB appointment soon, just to kind of get in the system here. I assume I'll be delivering here now. Bummer. Never thought I'd be bringing a baby 'home' to on base housing - or wherever we are by then - but I think it will still be on the base somewhere :/ Ah well, at least it's paid for I guess.

Small Victories. That's what today was about.

good day

2011-08-22T21:26:00.002-04:00

Today was a good day.

I'm sure we'll have many more good days. And many more bad days. But, today was a good day. Yay.

I honestly didn't get to the hospital until 1330, and that's only because Jason's mom called me and told me finance was there to talk to me. Thank goodness, because I was about to leave to go track them down. Still need to figure out how to pay bills via our online banking. Trust me, I'm not retarded when it comes to that stuff, but for the utility bills and stuff that is never the same every month, I'm not quite sure how that works. While his mom is here, we've kinda worked out a schedule where she comes early and sees him off to surgery, because I usually end up staying late. So I try to get here when he's in the PACU, even though I hate that place

Once we were done with finance, they called and said he was in the PACU, so we went down to see him. After about 10 minutes of me being there, the nurse said, "Well, I think he can go back to his room now!" I was thinking, oh God, please don't let him leave and have something crazy happen while we're up there. But Jason's mom said he was in immediate pain after the last surgery, and this time that wasn't an issue at all. They also didn't use ketamine for his anesthesia, and he was as normal as could be! No pain issues, no weird hallucinations, no sat dropping, nothing. Thank goodness, I was really expecting to spend the rest of the afternoon down there.

So we came back up to his new room with a different roommate, because he's no longer on contact precautions. Which he probably shouldn't have been all weekend, but infection control isn't here on the weekends to look at his cultures and clear him, of course. The thing I don't get is, his roommate from the other room who is on contact precautions was up and walking around in the halls yesterday, sitting in the family lounge all day long, with no gown or gloves on. So, what's the point? I think it's just a waste of money unless you're going to strictly enforce that, which never happens. Ha.

Post op lab draws - he was very irritated by this, since this morning they stuck him 11 times they said. Oh I only wish I had been here. He said a couple people poked him 4 times each. No thanks, you try twice and you swallow your pride and go get someone else thank you. His right arm is so bruised, and I think a little swollen still just from all the trauma, and it's the only extremity they can use for IV's and labs. Anyway this guy put the tourniquet on and I saw one from the other side of the bed! He only had to poke him once, thank goodness. But I'm pretty sure he was pissed at the people this morning and not afraid to let them know it. I've been asking about a PICC line all freaking weekend, but in a government run hospital, you can't expect anything to get done on the weekend, which really irritates me, especially in a situation like this. So the PICC team has to come by and 'consult' him - whatever that means, and then hopefully they'll do it tomorrow.

He ate his whole 6 inch sub, and said "This is sad. I'd be on my 2nd half of a foot long right now." after he was only half way in to the 6 inch. "Is this how normal people feel when they eat? This sucks!" (talking about being full so soon - ha)

We rolled him to one side, and the fan was blowing right on his butt crack, and he said "Oh man this feels good, just leave me here for a while." And he was serious. It was like what NOT to do nursing 101 - his face was smashed in to the side rail and everything, but he loved it. I scratched his back a little, assessed for those bed sores (ha!) and he really did ask me to scratch his butt - and I did - just the cheeks people.

The physical therapist came this morning I guess, I missed her. But apparently he is to be sitting as straight up as he can get when he eats his meals, and there are some exercises we're supposed to be doing to help his range of motion in his left leg and I'm not sure what else. Mostly stretching for right now, since he's just been laid up in bed this whole time. He said when he sat up straight, he got really dizzy and nauseous, but he had been NPO since midnight, so I bet it was a combination of him being hungry, and weak. She's supposedly ordering him a special wheel chair so hopefully he'll be able to get in to that soon. It's a motorized one until he gets the function back in his left hand - which apparently is going to take the longest.

Tomorrow he moves to yet another room, around 7pm. Down one floor, they've remodeled everything, and they're all private rooms. We can't wait. These rooms are retarded small.

The orthopedic surgeon in charge of his lower extremities came by today. I had never met him, but he's awesome. Looks super young, but so super nice. He even showed us pictures of what Jason's injuries looked like when he came to Bethesda. Amazing. Well, pretty shocking, but amazing. I almost asked him to send me the pictures, but I have a feeling he'll say no. I mean, these were like from the text book pretty graphic pictures - but the nurse in me must have come out because other wise I'm sure it would have freaked me out a ton. You could see his tibia and calf muscle on the inside of his left leg, a hole probably the length of a banana and the width of a grapefruit, if you can figure that one out - if I remember correctly - pretty much the entire inside of his lower leg with a couple inches to spare from his knee and ankle. Shockingly all the structures are intact, it's just a matter of getting the skin to cover the bone. They've had a wound vac on it, and it will definitely require a skin graft to cover the bone, but the wound size now is apparently like that of an orange I think. He's not excited about the skin grafting, worried about the freakish look, but I think it will be ok. Definitely a gnarly scar, and a chunk missing out of his calf, but it will be ok. He could technically be weight bearing on that leg, but since he's got the epidural, he can't yet. And his right leg, well you can imagine what that looked like. Just insane that that is actually his leg now. He keeps calling it his nub. I said "You could just say your right leg." He said "It's not a leg, it's a nub." I even asked the doctor what the politically correct term for that is - apparently it's "residual limb." Jason likes 'nub' better.

Probably if I had seen the upper part of him, like his face while lying on the operating table, that would've freaked me out a tad. So I guess I was able to separate them. But man, I really want those pictures. One day, when our son is in to gory shit, he might appreciate that. You know, take it for show and tell. Maybe not so much. Jason looked at them, didn't say much besides "Damn, that really sucks. Stupid land mines."

So hopefully within the week they'll start weaning the epidural, and get rid of it, so he can start weight bearing before his next surgery. Well, technically his next surgery is Wednesday, but they're done with his legs until the 2nd of September when they will put the skin graft on his left leg. He's worried about that pain, but we'll just take it a day at a time for now. The doctor also showed us a picture of what it looks like when it's initially placed over the wound - it's seriously like mesh, but it's skin. I didn't realize it was that open. He said they put the graft on, and then a wound vac until it all grows over and together. Crazy what they can do, and so grateful. We'll have to load that area up with sunscreen though, when we take our much anticipated beach trip next summer. Oh, I'm already planning it you see. You'd think I would've learned my lesson about planning. ha.

Apparently the fingers are going to be the problem area. It's his left ring and middle finger, both fractured and with pins in them, and will require grafts also. They tell us those grafts will be deeper skin, not just the superficial layer because of all the stretching and moving your fingers do. I wonder how it was only those two fingers that got it, what exactly happened?

When the RearD called me, they were explaining the whole process, and made it sound like he'd be inpatient for 2-3 weeks, maybe. Now, it's looking like much, much longer than that. But who knows, maybe they discharge them earlier than I think.

He met his 6 month old nephew for the first time this weekend. I can't remember if I've written about that before, but he really enjoyed that I think. He's so excited to have one running around, and crying, and making all the funny facial expressions they make. I'm sure he'll enjoy playing with him. When I was registering for stuff online, I was trying to include him in the process, and asked him which play mat thing he liked better. He said "I want one. Do they make these for big people? Or can I just get one for myself too?!" Seriously. I worry about where he'll be in his recovery when the baby does come. I hope he's pretty far along because I'm not going to be able to care for him like I am now. I hope he has the dexterity back in his fingers so he can help me change diapers. I know he'll feel terrible if he can't help. And I am scared that I'll start feeling resentment if I have to take care of my husband and baby at the same time with nothing in return. And that's not fair to anyone involved. But, I'm sure people have done it.

Of course I have the guilt. If he'd never met me, I wonder if he would've stayed in, and I wonder if he would've chosen to come to Fort Carson, and get placed with the unit he did. I wonder what kind of life he'd be living if it wasn't for me. He'd probably still have two legs and a lot less stress.

week

2011-08-21T01:29:00.002-04:00

It's been a week since I got the news about Jason.

Today, I'm 20 weeks pregnant.

And, Jason is one week shy of turning 25.

Did I ever say exactly how he lost his leg?

He stepped on a land mine. They had even already probed the area.

He said if they drove over it, it probably would've just popped the tire.

Anyway, I can't figure out a good schedule to get on. On the weekends it seems better to stay with him at night, and sleep during the day because of all the family visitors. His room is like a cubicle, and he just got a roommate, so that doesn't help. He's supposed to switch rooms next week, to the 4th floor, which is all brand new, and he'll have a private room. Yes, please! But then during the week, I'll want to be with him more during the day because he'll be in and out of surgery so much. Let's face it, I want to be with him 24/7. But that is not good for me or this baby. And the last thing we need is for something to happen to this baby. I'm trying so hard to eat normally, but it's impossible. Mom brought me a ton of snacks thank goodness. But I'm still eating McDonalds way more than I want (it's the only thing within walking distance on base - and I have no car). I hate to go out to eat, and leave him to eat hospital food.

I still don't have a clear picture of his recovery time. Sounds like they might try to close his bicep wound on Monday, but then it also sounds like they are going to have to skin graft every wound but the stump, and apparently that takes a couple weeks before they'll even put one on. Worried about how thin the skin will be over his muscle, will he have enough strength in that arm with half the muscle gone? He will probably still be stronger than me.

We joked a little about it tonight. I'm glad my husband has a sense of humor. We were adjusting him in bed - Craig says "Dude, where's your foot?" (referring to his left foot which was under the blankets) And I said "In Afghanistan." Laughs. Thank goodness.

"Well you'll never have to worry about matching socks again. Think how long a pack will last now!"

He said "Man, why couldn't it have been the left leg, then Trueblood and I could've shared shoes!"

I ended up staying up with him all night last night, his pain kept creeping up, and by morning was at an 8. Our nurse last night was army, and awesome. Not as big a fan of the navy nurses so far - don't know why. Maybe I'm biased. But he got the pain team there for us first thing in the morning, and they upped the epidural dose for him which controlled it all day.

I did Nursing 101 with him this morning - never thought I'd be doing this to my husband - at least not at the ages of 24 and 27. But we had a bed bath, and a good teeth brushing. His brother shaved his face a little later. We rotated to our right side to get off our bum bum. He's a sweaty guy anyway, so lying in bed all day doesn't help. He had all the bed sheet wrinkles and creases all up and down his back side - this isn't good for skin integrity. Plus, he's got so many tubes everywhere just resting on his legs, or he's lying right on top of them, so that can be dangerous long term. It's frustrating. I feel like I have to be there all the time, or they'll forget to turn him, and he never calls for help.

I had a moment though, tonight. I was sitting there when the corpsman came in to do his vitals around midnight, and he started charting on the computer there, using Essentris, which is the same in all government run hospitals, so that's what I use too. I got jealous, and mad, and I knew exactly what he was charting, and I was thinking "I can do that. Just let me do it. And pay me." ha. I wish. I got angry - I want to go back to work. I want to feel like I'm doing something productive again. I hate that I just had to drop everything I've ever known and come be one on one with him for who knows how long. Maybe hate is a strong word, or not even the right word. But, I'm struggling with it. I always 'strongly disliked' those patients who were nurses or who had family who were nurses or doctors and would take it upon themselves to do things or ask retarded questions like they knew what they were talking about. I'm trying so hard not to do that, I am fully aware that I do NOT know it all, especially when it comes to his recovery. But, I DO know more than most. And I can't imagine what it must feel like when you have no idea how things work in the hospital. They must just take you on a runaround while your husband recovers.

Anyway, so this is so not how I pictured leaving Colorado. Who knows, maybe we'll go back out there. I was ready to leave, but not until next year! That was my plan. I do love leaving the hospital here and it's still warm outside. I don't have to wear a jacket even at night here. (for now) And it's humid, so I don't have the crazy Colorado boogers :) I love the sound of the crickets. I hate the traffic. I'm not looking forward to figuring out my way around here.

My ass is already asleep, and I've only been lying here for like 30 minutes. I can't imagine how Jason feels. He is so ready to get up, and out. He hates this, I know he does. And I do too. There are no off days. There are days when he's not in surgery, but every day, there is a new challenge. There are 3 limbs that all need serious pain control - it seems like every day a different one is uncontrolled. I'm trying to figure out when to get all the administrative stuff done - finance, bill pay, tricare, prenatal care, etc.

He did get to meet his nephew for the first time today, so that was fun. He is so excited to have a little person running around, and I'm so excited to watch him be a daddy.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

pacu

2011-08-20T01:33:00.003-04:00

I will never work in the PACU. Let's just make that clear right now. But probably after this is all said and done, I will be able to! Today was miserable. Not really, but still a little bit. Jason went back in for surgery. When they say surgery, I really don't know what that means, and that drives me crazy. Some docs say it's for wound cleaning, some say they're working on his fingers, left, and right leg, others say it's both. I just don't really know. They did replace his wound vacs, so that's good. I think they might've shaved a tad off his bone so the skin will be able to cover his right leg. Either way, he was in there for 4 hours. And when he came out, it was scary.

I left here around 2 am - this seems to be my routine - stay late, and get in late, because other family want to visit. So, I left him, (mind you I felt like I was leaving my child all alone on the side of the road not able to fend for themselves) around 2, and fell asleep trying to find I Love Lucy by 3 (no hallmark channel on the navy base apparently). The phone started around 7am, but I ignored it for a while. There comes a point when you just have to. Maybe my point is earlier than others, but still. I just ignored it.

Finally woke up around 11 - his friend Kyle was here from his old unit in Germany. He has since gotten out of the Army and lives in New York. When I told Jason a couple of days ago he was coming, he said "I know." I was like how?! He said "I just knew he'd be here." Battle buddy camaraderie I guess :) So he brought me some pizza rolls and dr. pepper from the shopette - thank goodness, I was starving, and still no food in my new little 'home'.

By the time we got to the hospital, Jason had come out of surgery and was in the PACU. When we got there, he was completely normal. Out of it, but acting normal. His mom and Ged left for a while to get some lunch since they got up early to be with him when he went to surgery. Kyle and I stayed with him, and that's when things got a little weird.

I don't deal with postop patients - so this freaked me out, and more so because it was my husband, and I've never seen him do anything weird (unless he's been drinking). His pain was out of control to begin with, so that didn't help. His blood pressure was 200s/110s, and then he started involuntarily twitching his head, but saying "I'm not doing that on purpose, make it stop!" And then, "No, no, no, etc - don't take my head too!" (I think he was referring to TBI, he was afraid he is going to have permanent brain damage, although he hasn't exhibited any symptoms of it yet) The nurses asked him his pain level - he rolled his eyes and said "160". "Well what kind of pain?" Again, the eye roll, "It feels like I'm stepping on that fucking land mine over and over again." I can sympathize with the pain scale question - it's a requirement - but god almighty they asked it like every 2 minutes, and I'm not even lying. So obviously you need to do something about this pain. They pushed dilaudid and fentanyl I think. No relief.

At this point, the weird stuff started happening. Stuff I'm not used to seeing, because where I work, everyone is coherent, and virtually healthy. As his head was twitching, his pupils got completely constrict, and he started stuttering and whispering all at once.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Jason Graham Searles" (all whispering and stuttering and twitching)

"Where are you?"

"Hospital"

"What country are you in?"

"Afghanistan"

"No, you're in the United States. Who's that lady beside you?"

(after a minute of trying to turn his head to look at me)

"The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. But I'm not Jason. This is Cooper."

I said, "Cooper is what you wanted to name our baby, is that who it is?"

"No, I'm Cooper. The baby is Owen. Jason isn't here right now. Jason will be back in 25 seconds."

And he fell asleep.

And literally, 20ish seconds later, he woke up, and was completely normal. Talking normal, not whispering, not stuttering. And he remembered saying all of those things. To date, the weirdest thing I've ever witnessed. I almost started wondering if this was going to be a permanent side effect too.

The anesthesiologist was super nice, answered all our questions, (and gave him the drugs we've been asking for) although I think I need to start bringing the computer with me everywhere to write everything down. I've asked so many questions, and they've tried their best to answer most, but then I don't remember a day later.

I asked if he was going to get an IV BP med - that blood pressure was freaking me out a tad. She said "well, we'll give him his normal dose that he takes every day" I said, "He needs an IV med, his blood pressure is too high right now, the pill isn't going to work fast enough" She said "Well it will all absorb the same." Ha. No it won't. Then I saw the anesthesiologist pushing labetalol, although I'm not sure why because his heart rate was never high, so I was a little worried that would bottom out, but it was ok. Then they gave him his regular dose a little later. I asked if he could have that switched to taking it at night, and they said no because your blood pressure normally drops at night. But, I'm thinking, he always takes it at night, and never had problems - granted he's never been on 3 pages worth of meds - but if he's going to be in surgery every M/W/F and then NPO from midnight the night before - he won't get his morning dose regularly - and then we'll have this blood pressure issue every time he comes to the PACU. Annoyed.

Complete sensation in both legs - all the way down to his toes. This isn't normal, yesterday he could barely move his left leg because he was so numb. That is the goal currently, with the epidural. They checked his dermatome levels a bunch, duh, it's not working. Fix it. They tried a local block - that didn't work. It made it worse. Finally, they pushed a higher concentration of Lidocaine in the epidural to verify placement, and that seemed to help.

So now his pain is finally controlled with the lidocaine epidural bolus, and the morphine. The anesthesiologist finally switched the PCA to morphine for him since that's what he's been asking for. Although right now, it doesn't seem to be helping. So then he starts deserting, forgetting to breathe, blue lips, all that fun stuff. We play incentive spirometer for a while, and have to try to keep him awake. He eventually gets down to 1L NC but can't tolerate room air. So he's still on the O's, but I prefer that over blue lips.

Right now his right leg is bothering him the most. He is knocked out - and totally falls under that stereotype that we laugh at at work - passed out asleep, and when I wake him up to ask him his pain level, he's a 5-6. Ironic! But, he is my husband, and I don't think he's making this shit up. He said the morphine just knocks him out and makes him feel great, but the pain is still around a 5. He was at a 2 last night. And all day yesterday it was his left arm. So I just don't know how to keep on top of all the different pain locations. I'm wondering if his right leg is hurting more tonight because of the surgery though. I think I heard they shaved the bone down a little, to have more skin to make the 'flap'. I'm sure if they manipulated that, it's going to be pretty painful. He's also got 2 JP drains in that leg now. Maybe tomorrow it will start feeling a little better?! But then something else will start hurting :/

It's like a never ending sick game of whack a mole. But we're not really whacking anything.

I'm that wife. I ask for a print out of his meds. Ha. So tonight when he woke up and said he was a 5 - I asked if he wanted the IV push - yes - And of course when the nurse comes in, he's sound asleep. I said "I know it doesn't look like he's in pain, but I swear he just woke up and told me he was a 5!" I know what they think.

He is finally on an air mattress though. And I hope they'll start his PICC line this weekend. Sometimes I wonder what it's like for people who don't know anything about the medical field. I wonder if he'd get these things if I wasn't here. Not tooting my horn by any means, but most people just don't know what to ask for. I'm sure they'd get done eventually, but probably not as fast as I'm making them happening. Hey, I'm just saying...now's a good a time as ever to practice being assertive - these people don't know me - and I'm sure they'll be happy to see me go :)

In other news, Mom came up tonight briefly. She brought me a ton of food which will be a Godsend when I get back at 0200 and am starving. Baby is mostly awake at night too. I saw him move from the outside last night when I was lying in bed. I can only feel him kicking or punching when I'm lying or sitting which is a bummer because I really want Jason to be able to feel him. Mom and I and some close family friends that took the time to drive her up here since she just had a knee replacement, went out to dinner at Ruth's Chris - I had never been. Holy Lord. Ahhhmazing! We'll have to get Jason some take out for his birthday from there :) He did eat 3 pieces of pepperoni pizza and some cheesy bread tonight I was told, so that was awesome. That's the most he's eaten since I've seen him. He also got a roommate which is a huge bummer. Selfish, I know, but it was so nice to be able to take over the whole room. At least he has the window view. The other guy is 24 as well, a marine, and got shot 4 times I believe, in the abdomen. But he looks like he's gonna be fine. And he still has all four limbs. Which makes me a little annoyed because I feel like they're thinking "Wow, they have it way worse." And they'll most likely go back to the way they were no problem and in no time, and the entire public won't know the difference unless he tells them. And then I tell myself that is not very nice.

Everyone says they're so shocked at how I'm handling this. And they all think I am so strong. I don't really think so, I just know that I get up and do it every day because this is my role now, and I have no choice but to handle it. I will be his primary caregiver. This will be my life for a long time. (Sometimes I even wonder if this is the reason I went to nursing school. Has this been in the plan all along? Did someone know I would need this background in order to keep myself sane through this process? Clearly, I'm no surgical nurse, but I at least have the basic knowledge...) I don't think my brain is still letting me process it - if it did, I'd be in a padded room, no doubt. I think it takes a long time for anyone to fully accept something like this. I suppose everyone knows me to be an extreme worrier and I am. But when you are thrown in to a situation like this, you have no choice but to just do it. Just get through it. What else is there to do?

whirlwind

2011-08-18T22:58:00.002-04:00

The last 24 hours have been an absolute whirlwind! I finally got in to see Jason around 2300 last night, the 17th of August. The Army officials picked me up in their big black shiny government car, and I felt like a celebrity, although this was not the case. They helped me check in to the hotel (I'm staying on base - within walking distance of the hospital) And then they brought me to the hospital. We wandered around a little, and then we finally found his room. He had told me he had a roommate, so I was worried that I would wake him too. When I finally got to his room, I totally didn't react like I thought I would or should. I just walked right over to him and kissed him - he smelled like betadine and was orange all over from it. Poor thing probably hadn't had his teeth brushed in forever, but I didn't care. He was sound asleep, but woke up when I got there. It took him a few minutes to come to, and figure out that we were together again.

He said, "You can look at it, it's ok." So I did. Nothing different, just no foot. It was all just so surreal to see him like this, in this state, where he cannot do a thing for himself. He hates it. He wants to get in a wheel chair and go outside. Today he said "I need to get up and clean this room, it's a mess." I said, "Honey, I don't think you'll need to worry about that for a while!"

So, I stayed with him all night - I'm sure not the best idea I ever had, but I couldn't stand to leave him. Plus, I had no idea how to get back to the hotel, and while I could've asked, I just didn't feel like it. I was starving, but of course the DFAC closed (although it does open here around midnight!) so I asked to raid the pantry - I took two chocolate milks - they have the kind we used to have at our hospital, that taste like milkshakes almost :) They have 3 real refrigerators, all dedicated to patient food! This impressed me because at home, we always have to tell patients not to put their food in our fridges for infection control or whatever it is. So I was excited to be able to have stuff here to snack on. They had huge deep freezer with popsicles and healthy choice tv dinners - I almost took one, but I felt too bad. So I settled for saltines, graham crackers, and peanut butter. I know, terrible diet for baby. I've just been so distracted, by the time I realize I'm hungry, I'm like ravenous and everything is always closed.

He insisted that I sleep in the bed that his roommate no longer occupied - hospital beds freak me out, as well as going to the bathroom in his room - not like anyone else uses it, but still - it just weirds me out for some reason. So, I stayed up in the chair, dozed off a couple times, but had to readjust a lot because my bum kept falling asleep, so then that would wake him up. We'd talk for a few minutes, and then he'd fall back asleep. He's getting Seroquel at night, and that really seems to knock him out. He loves it! He's really struggling with pain in his left arm during the day.

I knew the morning would be super busy - I knew I would pay for this later.

So around 0530, the Dr's start making their rounds. This first guy looked like he was about 10. But whatever, I've had patients ask me that too. Overall, he had at least 20 different people in here throughout the day. Apparently there are the doctors who worked on his lower extremities, and the doctors that specialize in hands, and the trauma team, and ophthalmology, and a pain team, and anesthesia, and behavioral health. All in here in different times, pretty much asking all the same questions, but none of them could ever answer ours. It's a teaching hospital - the halls are packed during the day with groups of people making rounds on everyone, and then talking about them in the hall way.

He complained of weird sensations or feelings after pushing his epidural button, and somehow they got hallucinations out of that. And, of course no answer as to why - he said "Well, I can have psych come consult with him." I'm thinking - "WTF? It's obviously because of the amount of drugs, mixture, or whatever, it's not like he's just sitting here perfectly healthy imagining shit!" So he asked him to turn the epidural down a little to see - but still no real answer.

He told me yesterday he wanted people here all the time, that he was so super bored just sitting in bed al day. But today, after all the hullabaloo with doctors, nurses, cnas, corpsmen (whatever they are), and family, I think he was over it. But he didn't tell me this until after I had already returned a ton of messages saying "Sure, come visit!" Oops. Oh well. I think he wants to wait until he's able to move around a little more first. But he definitely still wants to see those really cloes friends and family. These rooms are tiny, I'm spoiled. You can hardly maneuver around the bed. He's got a tv on wheels like they used to have in elementary school, so that takes up about half the room. These chairs are the most uncomfortable things ever. It's crazy because I keep looking around thinking - "This is where I'll spend my days for the next few weeks!" But they are supposed to move him to a floor that was just redone and has all private rooms. So that will be nice.

He's on contact precautions, which I think they all are when they first get here - because of the bacteria that stupid country has I guess. Ha, I really don't know, obviously for bacteria, but I'm not sure if it's because of all the junk that got blasted in to his wounds or what. But hopefully he'll come off those soon - personally, I think these yellow gowns are worthless, and a waste of money!

So the medical stuff - he's got three wound vacs - one on his left bicep, left shin area, and obviously on the right lower extremity where the amputation is. I hated wound vacs in nursing school - I remember having to follow the lady around and watch her change the dressings. Gross. And they just look so painful, although the only one that I can see is his left bicep one - the others are covered with ACE wraps. He will likely be in surgery M/W/F until all the wounds are closed, supposed to be pounding calories in between. So we've already had McDonald's, and I just got him a regular (like kids) cheeseburger - and he couldn't even finish that. Anyone who knows my husband knows this is not normal. Ever. But he's not moving around much to have an appetite. It's a catch-22. I'm making them get him an air mattress tomorrow while he's in surgery - he has never been turned, and I can't do it by myself. It's hard to do anyway since he can't really turn on his left side because of that arm. He is young though, so his skin isn't terrible. But he's also sweaty, so there is moisture under there. Poor thing hasn't pooped since he left Afghanistan - and again, anyone who knows my husband, knows this is not normal either. They took the central line that was placed in Kandahar out today, and put in two IV's, hopefully a PICC soon. He's got an epidural for his legs, nerve block for his arm, and a PCA. Plus the PRN meds I'm trying to stay on top of.

The liaison came and talked to me today, along with SFAC, and finance (although by that time I was so out of it tired, I couldn't pay attention anymore). He's been a great help - but the contradicting stories are already starting. He's now telling me I may not be able to move our stuff back here, or that he won't be getting any PCS orders to here. Technically he's still attached to Fort Carson, and it may stay that way depending on how he's doing. What?! How the HELL are we supposed to try getting back to a normal family life with a baby coming in 5 months if we have none of or belongings and no real 'home'?! "Try not to think about that right now" he says. Ha. Do you know who you're talking to?!

An old high school friend came by tonight, who works for one of the WTU's at Fort Belvoir and was giving Jason a lot of good info about what to expect after things start settling down. He explained all the different routes his career could go, and they all sound very promising. As long as he stays motivated and wants to stay in the Army, hopefully they will go out of their way to keep him.

His mom got in from England this afternoon and sat with him for a while too, so it was nice to see her. I finally made myself leave and slept for a couple hours, but it definitely wasn't enough.

He's so peacefully sleeping now, I hate to wake him, but I'm going to wipe him down with whatever these wipes are they gave me because of his surgery tomorrow. I don't know if they've assumed I'm a nurse, or have some sort of medical background because no one has asked, but they are treating me like I know what I'm doing. Which I like. It took a little adjusting in the first few hours - he doesn't want me asking questions to the doctors until they're completely finished. He feels like when I ask questions, they talk to me, and not him, and he doesn't feel a part of the conversation even though it's about him. Understandable. But hard for me. So I'm trying to make sure he asks all the questions he has first, and then ask mine. But it's true, once you ask them a question, they just start talking to you, and not the patient. I hope I never did that.

And still, at least every 5 minutes, I think to myself "I can't believe I'm here right now, in this moment, with my husband, with no leg, and this is our life."

Random Thoughts

2011-08-16T13:38:00.002-04:00

The day isn't over yet. In fact, it hasn't really started for me, I'm still in bed. But I had a few random thoughts that I wanted to put on here.

Like, my new obsession with legs. Two legs. Everyone has two legs. Well, not everyone. But most everyone. I just watch people walk around, especially men (not like that), especially since it's summer time and everyone is wearing shorts. I look at their calf muscles, how symmetrical their legs are, if they have tattoos on them. I wonder if they realize how easy they have it just because they have two legs. Every morning when I wake up and get out of bed for the first time, I think of Jason when both of my feet hit the carpet. I wonder how he will get in the shower, do you put your leg on and get in and then take it off? Then put it back on before you get out again? Will we have to find somewhere to live with a walk in shower? Minor things. I do see people with long pants on and wonder if any of them have a prosthesis under there. I wonder what it will be like when we go to the beach. Do they make special prosthesis for this sort of thing? Will they it rust if it gets wet? What about the sand getting in between his stump (what is the politically correct term for that?) and the prosthesis? This is probably very ignorant of me.

I never intended this blog to upset people. I received many messages that as people were reading my blog, they were crying. I hope I am not coming across as pitiful. I don't want people to feel sorry for us for the rest of our lives, and I really know that Jason won't want that. It has just been a way for me to record my thoughts as I'm going through this process. I think it will be interesting to get Jason's perspective when he's up to it. And I know baby/grown son will enjoy looking back on this. At least I hope he will.

I'm feeling a little more bitter than I'd like to. When I see people's posts on Facebook sometimes I just think "Your life is so hard." (In a sarcastic tone of course) - so don't get on Facebook Stephanie - yeah right, anyone who knows me knows I'm addicted to that damn website. It's just crazy to me that our world is currently upside down (not in a bad way, but I do feel like one of those flip sand timers, and ours just got flipped over, and we are starting all over again) and everyone else just goes on like normal. Duh, why wouldn't they. Their life still is normal. Maybe ours will be too, one day. But probably not. People can go on with their daily routines without being affected, because they're not. I don't know why I think the world will stop because this happened to us. It happens a lot, unfortunately.

I look at pictures and think "I wonder what we would've done if we had known that 3 months, 4 months, or a year later, he'd have no right leg." I got a pedicure yesterday and thought about the time I made him go with me to get one, and he was so embarrassed, but handled it like a real man :) I guess he won't feel up to that any more.

I think about all the bad people out there, in our own country, who are just ignorant, or assholes, but usually both - and get angry. I get angry because all I can think is "My husband lost his leg for you? Really? You're an asshole. And you don't even realize."

Will Sadie still see him as her daddy? Or will she spot the differences and be unsure?

We're not a religious couple. And I don't know if this is going to make him want to be religious, or push away from it even more. It could go both ways. But, I did ask God if he was sure he put Jason with the right person when he married me. This is a hard situation for anyone to handle, and quite frankly I don't really feel equipped to handle it. We must have come together for reasons bigger than ourselves. We created a beautiful baby boy, and now we have to find our purpose in this new challenge. I fear this will be hard for him, as his career and life path has never been clear to him. But then, who is it clear to? I guess this is where faith comes in to play, and that, I know, is a struggle for me. I can only imagine how it will be for him.

I assume these are all normal feelings. And I should know all the stages of grief, but I don't remember them. I'm pretty sure I'm still in the denial stage, which I think is the first one.

I started packing last night, all still so surreal. I'm going to see my husband. I wasn't supposed to see him until January, and he was going to get home and we would have our baby at Evans, and all would be perfect. I knew the nurses and doctors who would deliver me, specifically requested one pediatrician to do the circumcision (hey, important things - I've seen some bad circs!), knew how the hospital worked, and what to expect. I would be at home for a few months with the baby just in time for him to return for good, and we would start our beautiful life as a family of three, together.

We will still have a beautiful life as a family of three, I suppose it just started sooner than I expected. I can be thankful it happened when it did, I still have 20 weeks left in this pregnancy. 20 weeks to get Jason back on his 'feet' and prepare for baby.

But, as I was packing, all I could look at was his closet full of shoes. How will this work? Can he still wear flip flops? Or should I just give them all away so he doesn't see them and get depressed that he can't wear them any more? He's got some old issued Army boots in there still (he never wore the issued boots, they're apparently terrible), I might leave them for a while.

If nothing else, now, when I see two shoes sitting somewhere (which is everywhere in my house), I immediately think of Jason, alone still, without one foot, and what he is feeling like.

August 15, 2011

2011-08-16T02:59:00.002-04:00

I woke up at 0600, all by myself. Was determined to get to the OB Clinic on Post by 0700 to catch my Doctor before he started seeing patients. Well, apparently he doesn't get there till 0800. So I go upstairs to see all my coworkers. Of course everyone is very supportive and have lots of questions. Go through my speal for about the 40th time, feeling very emotionless at this point. Fill out my time card. Realize I need to recertify in NRP before October. Go back downstairs and get in touch with my most favorite doctor ever. Does a quick ultrasound, baby's heartbeat still strong. No, Dr. Clark, no bleeding or cramping. I know what to look for. I am stressed - but I think I'm still internalizing it. He looks up his colleagues in the military system at Bethesda and gives me their names. Just hands me a copy of my medical records (I don't think it's usually that easy) and tells me to go to the walk in clinic at Bethesda next week for my 20 week US. Go back upstairs to finish up things there. A former coworker calls the floor asking for my phone number, and I happen to be sitting right there. She used to work in Germany at Landsthul where he is a patient now. She got some inside information - her friends had received his paperwork the night before, and he is going to the unit she used to work on :) She tells everyone to look out for him. They messaged her again today and said he arrived in the morning, got evaluated, x-rayed, and was currently back in the OR (for the 3rd time) for a surgical wash out. Where they basically sedate him and power wash his wounds. Ugh. So then the head of the department I work for calls me, and says she's been in contact with someone at Landsthul also, and that his name wasn't on the manifest yet, but she would let me know when it was. But that from his notes, he looks extremely stable, and they're very pleased with his progress. She also has been able to squeeze me in at a clinic up north for my 20 week ultrasound a tad early. I then get a call from his mom, who has a number to the nurses station there. I try to figure out how to call it from the hospital phones since I know they can dial out of country. After about 45 minutes of arguing with these people, I finally get through - to 10 delta - the unit he's on. They transfer me to his room, and he answers. Still groggy, and sounding very down, in my opinion. Still cracking jokes, but still down.

"I feel like I've failed them, failed my guys. Now they have no squad leader."

"I'm scared that our baby is going to think I'm a freak, I won't have a leg, and I have scars everywhere."

"I'm really going to need you when I get home."

I ask if he's eaten anything, yes, "a cup of jello" - so I ask him if bringing him a double quarter pounder with cheese no pickles is a bad idea when I see him, he says "You might want to rethink that." As in - "you better have a double quarter pounder with cheese no pickles when you come see me" :) He tells me he thinks he's on the manifest to leave on Tuesday - what?! That's way sooner than I expected. He starts falling asleep on the phone. Which I hate, I want to hear his voice longer. So we hang up.

Hopefully next time I talk to him, it will be in person.

So finally, after 5 hours at work, when I only intended on being there for 1, I leave. I have to rush home, let the dog out, take a shower, and head up north for the Ultrasound appointment. Get there just in time, get all the measurements done - baby is in 56 percentile, has all his pieces and parts, and is still in fact, a boy. Placenta, fluid, and cervix all look good, and baby was somewhat uncooperative. :)

Go to hair appointment where I get another call from the CPT F, who tells me everything I already know because I'm that badass :) But he does confirm that my husband is on the manifest to leave Germany on Tuesday - yikes! So this means I could be leaving by Wednesday! Ah! Call mom, get dad a ticket for tomorrow! So he's supposed to be here tomorrow night at 10pm. CPT F confirms that my husband is going to be at Bethesda - they did have him scheduled for San Antonio - thank goodness CPT F fixed that real quick! Now I really have a lot to do - and that's ok, it will make it go faster :)

Since I'm up north - stop by the Verizon store on a whim - see if I can get husbands number reactivated - yes! I got him a brand new iPhone4, and I so hope it will make him as excited as I was :) He can put all his music on there since I know his is still in Afghanistan. I will try to get all his music on before I go home.

Now start back down south, get pedicure - hey, important things here - need to look good for husband. Got orange glitter nail polish - it's fun :)

Go home, Katelyn brings me dinner, and sits and talks with me for a while, which is wonderful. I will miss her :(

Now here I sit - thinking about all the things I should pack. Making list after list after list. Making sure I'm still feeling baby move in the midst of all this...

August 14, 2011

2011-08-16T02:49:00.002-04:00

Today is a new day.

Woke up early, but ended up lying in bed for the majority of the morning, on the phone again, all morning. Hashing out details with my mom - should Dad fly out here to take care of the dog? Should we wait? What do I bring home now? When will I come back here? Where will I stay there? Spoke with various Army officials about the travel situations, and when I will find out when I get to leave. If there's one thing I've learned from being married to and working for the Army, it's always a game of hurry up and wait. Landlord comes over to fix fence. I take Sadie to get groomed, and I was going to get a pedicure, but it's Sunday, so they're closed. Go to Kohl's because I have Kohl's cash staring me in the face that I have to use :) Buy him some soft t-shirts that he loves, and basketball shorts (his very first pair, he hates those things, but I figure that's all he'll be wearing for a while), and some more sleeping shorts to lounge around in. Talk on the phone with life insurance guy about how this may change our policy. The lady at the checkout counter says "How are you today?" I think - "Well, my husband just got his leg blown off in Afghanistan for your dumb ass, our life will never be the same, but yours probably will - how do you THINK I am?" I say - "I'm fine." I then realize, this is going to be a VERY long road to recovery for both of us. I go back and pick up Sadie, all the while on the phone to different people, my boss, the head of the department I work for, friends, family, etc. I go home, and wait for the landlord to be done with the fence. He leaves, and I leave to go back up north to the Apple store. I'm going to buy us a new computer :) I need to be able to keep very accurate records of his care - I may be slightly OCD, and the fact that I know how hospitals work probably makes it a little worse. My old computer is 17 inches, and giant when it comes to traveling - and on the fritz - my husbands old computer went with him to Iraq last time, and is also on its way out. His new computer I got him for this deployment is still in Afghanistan and we won't see it for a while probably. So in I go, pick it out, buy it, and come back home. Simple as that :) I download a medical record app, and am very excited about it. But I think I will still have to keep track of some extra things in a document. This was a fairly uneventful day, have gotten a few more things sorted out with the CPT, but I was able to sleep a little. I planned an early day for Monday...

August 13, 2011

2011-08-16T02:22:00.003-04:00

This is a little late - but I decided (at 0030) that I need to start keeping a journal. I just bought a MacBookPro - and don't have any word processing on it right now. So a blog it is for now. I just read that old post, from December of 2009. Back when life was easy. I only wish I could've looked ahead to now.

My husband deployed May 18, 2011 to Afghanistan. He is stationed in the Arghandab River Valley, and I couldn't tell you where that is. He is in the Army, 1-67 C Co - out of Fort Carson - the infantry - and for some reason they're known as the "Death Dealers". He's been in the Army for about 7 years now, and this is his third deployment. The first two were to Iraq and both lasted 15 months. This one is supposed to only be a year. (Only!) He hasn't even been there three months.

I worked all night, 7pm-7am, and got off Saturday morning. I came home and waited for the handyman to come give me an estimate on all the things wrong in this rental house that needed to be fixed. He came, gave me the estimate, and I made my usual bagel and cream cheese with apple juice and went upstairs to Facebook stalk like my normal morning routine.

I got a text from a fellow army wife, asking if I was ok, and if there was anything she could do for me. I thought this was odd. When I texted her back that everything was fine, she called - which was also odd. She said her husband had told her that my husband had been injured, was in surgery, but was ok. I didn't believe her of course, because the Army is supposed to notify you of these things first! So, not wanting to be the typical freaking out Army wife, I call my FRG leader just to clarify - who tells me she will call the RearD CO and let me know. When I get a call from a phone number which I know is from post - I know. They ask to speak to Mrs. Searles - and then inform me officially that my husband has been injured. I guess at this point, I knew that was coming. What I didn't expect was for them to tell me that he lost his right leg below the knee. No one ever expects it to happen to them. Cliche, I know, but it is true. Of course, I cried. I worried about very insignificant things, which then made me feel selfish. Like, what about Sadie? (Our dog) What about the bills, how will they get paid? What about work? I was trying to save for maternity leave! But the important thing was that he was stable, and apparently "in good spirits". I think they have to say that.

Then another person called me, and gave me a few more details, after apologizing for the Army's downfalls yet again. This is when I realized our lives had changed forever. He mentioned the stay at his place of rehabilitation would be at least 8 - 16 months. What? How is that going to work? Well, apparently these soldiers usually PCS (Permanent Change of Station) to wherever they are recovering. The family moves there, and they all begin their new life. Totally was not expecting this. Now, I have to figure out how to pack everything, take care of all the loose ends, pack everything, clean house, move out, and quit my beloved job. Oh, and I'm 20 weeks pregnant.

Everyone who knows me, knows how much I worry. Including my husband. I worry about everything, the big things, the little things, the things I cannot control, and the things I can.

So, now I'm in survival mode, trying to figure out where to go from here. I realized he mentioned Walter Reed Medical Center, but he said my husband would likely go to San Antonio (that's where the other two soldiers from his unit that this has happened to have gone). All our family is in Virginia. I requested that he be sent to Walter Reed indefinitely, as we have a baby due in January, and we're going to need all the help we can get. Plus, how wonderful to be back within driving distance of our family at a time like this.

I spent all morning on the phone. I only cried that once. When I realized it did happen to us. Will they kick him out? Can he deploy again? No, and yes. But he has since informed me he'd "like a nice pretty desk job". I had to contact his mom, she lives in England, and tell her myself. That was not ideal. Mind you, I had been up since 7pm the night before. Now it's noon. I'm supposed to work tonight - if I go to sleep now, I might be able to go to work. But will I be useful? Will I be distracted? As a nurse, I can't afford to loose my license over this, so around 5pm, after I had been up all day, I decided I should call in. By then, everyone at work had heard, and of course understood. We are so understaffed, I felt terrible, but they made it work. A friend came and sat with me, and brought me McDonalds for a few hours in the afternoon. She just had her baby, and I just held him all afternoon. It was quite comforting. I still didn't cry - just talked about everything in detail like it wasn't really happening to me. I could hear myself talking to her about this situation, and I kept having to tell myself, "this is your life you're talking about now".

I called the CPT back with all the questions I had started gathering throughout the day. And asked him more in depth about what happened. He said my husband did nothing wrong and did everything by protocol. Of course he did. He always does. Your stupid protocols aren't foolproof. I asked about his future with the Army, he said they would work with him to find him a job he would enjoy. I hope this is really the case. I just didn't, and still don't, understand the tactics they have to go by.

I also took it upon myself (husband probably would not have approved) to inform this CPT that last month, my husband made points for promotion to E6 - SSG, but that someone did not do their job by updating his records, so he didn't get promoted. He has to wait until August 18th I think, to find out the points for August, and then hopefully, he will get promoted Sept 1. I said "My husband got screwed because someone didn't do their job and update his points. Could you please make sure this someone does their job this time so he gets promoted like he should've been already?"

"Yes ma'am I'll make sure your husband gets what he is owed."

Thank You.

My husband called around 5pm that day. He sounded very out of it, very tired, and groggy. I could hear the male nurse there answering all the medical questions I had, but I just wish I could've been by his side for all of it. He said he had an epidural to numb his leg, and was in a lot of pain and very tired, but he's ok. He said he got a purple heart and some coins, so that was cool.

I took two tylenol PM (yes they're safe with pregnancy) and turned my phone on vibrate, and tried to sleep. I did, woke up once, but did get a few good hours of sleep.

Army Wife Life

2009-12-04T18:06:00.003-05:00

I knew what I was getting myself in to. I thought I did at least. This Army Wife stuff is hard! They always say, "You're marrying the Army, not your husband." Oh, so very true.

This will be a pity me blog, and I'll get over it, so if you don't want to hear about it, stop reading now :)

Jason just informed me that he has to pull 24 hour duty on Christmas day. I'm so very disappointed. Of course, with the way things have been going since we moved in together as far as the Army goes, I should have expected this.

First it was the fact that he wouldn't receive his BAH - housing allowance for living off post - we were pretty much depending on that money for our rent, and we'd pay for the other utilities out of pocket. But having that chunk of money paid for already was going to be a huge bonus. Oh, sorry, you can't get BAH. Why? Because you're you. No, not really (but that's what it feels like). It's because he's technically a 'single soldier'. Bull shit! He's engaged. But the Army doesn't care about engagements. And there is room for him in the barracks on post, so since he could live on post (since he's single) they won't pay him his housing allowance. Awesome.

Then it was "Well I'm still getting about $300 taken out of each pay check for access to the dining hall which I don't go to, maybe I can get that back." (BAS) Nope. You're single.

And now, after he called me at 8am this morning and said "I have duty today, not Monday, so I'll see you tomorrow." (Which totally ruins his weekend - he'll be sleeping most of the day tomorrow, and then it's Sunday and he has to go back to work!)

"You're one of only two single sergeants. You have duty Christmas day even though your passes got approved. Merry Christmas."

Ok, I know someone has to do it. But lately I just feel like the world is working against us. I keep telling myself that I have never wanted a courthouse marriage, that our wedding is only 6 months away, we'll survive until then, we may have to dip in to what little savings we (he) have to cover wedding expenses because I still don't have a job, that in the long run, years from now, these 6 months won't be that big of a deal, that it will all turn around one day and we'll get what we deserve...but I just can't see the light at the end of the tunnel right now!!

I guess I'll have to quit moping about it and suck it up. It's just a date on the calendar, Christmas can be celebrated a day late or early. We'll get through it. We'll survive. But I just keep picturing him sitting in that building all alone on Christmas. I feel terrible. He always does people's dirty work. He always does favors for others knowing he won't get paid back. And he wonders why he always feels so defeated.

I always look around at my friends and see how wonderful their lives are - with their jobs and pay checks and families and friends all so close by - so I'm jealous. And feeling very much like throwing myself a pity party.

I am grateful he is home this Christmas. But, that might even make it worse. Knowing he's home, but still has to work, and I can't be with him (yet again) just plain sucks. No one should have to feel this way. And I know that when I start working, I'll have to work holidays as well...I guess we'll just have to start getting used to being apart on the holidays.

I suppose I've complained enough. Life goes on.

Merry Christmas! ha.

The Love Dare...

2009-10-12T23:43:00.002-04:00

I told Jason about this book, and we got it tonight. We're going to try it. Neither of us are religious in any way - so it should be interesting. But, I guess it can't hurt right??

I also decided, I'm going to try to blog about each day...maybe I'll get him to do the same...because I have a feeling the 20 lines they give you to reflect on in the book aren't going to be enough. Maybe for him...but I'm sure not for me...

Hopefully we can go through with it all...