And it doesn't always get easier....

Today I had an appt with a Dr. that has his office inside the hospital where we spent the first month of our summer. Even as I was driving that familiar route that I drove every morning for a month, my stomach was churning. I tried to laugh at myself because it was just so ridiculous; Gary was safely at home, working away at the computer, but I still felt a little ill. When I arrived at the hospital, just as it had been every morning, the parking lot was jammed with cars. I was amused by the people driving around toward the front, looking for a space. I knew to go straight to the back of the lot...you have to be there by 7:oo am at the latest to get a space up front and then later in the afternoon the spaces will again open up.

By the time I walked across the parking lot, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm myself, I was feeling better, and then I walked in the doors. The smell was what got to me first. I'm not saying that this hospital has a bad smell. It just has a familiar smell that will forever be linked in my brain with fear, anxiety, waiting and watching Gary suffer. Those that know me well will not be the least bit surprised to hear that I teared up immediately.

After my Dr. appt, I walked to the lab for some blood work and my feet knew the direction to go without my even thinking about it, even the little shortcut that takes you closer to the patient rooms, but to the other side of the hospital faster. I will NEVER go that way again! It made me remember the night that Gary was so drugged and hadn't eaten or woken up for nearly two days. Alyssa and I, trying always to keep each other encouraged and brave, actually had a race to see which way got you from point A to point B most quickly. Inside, we were so sick with worry because no one could really tell us for sure what was wrong with him; yet we hid it from one another as much as possible.

Two nights ago, we were watching a random TV show in which one of the characters was in a car accident and in a coma. Alyssa asked me if seeing the monitors upset me, because she got the chills and was nauseous when she saw them. I definitely had the same experience when watching something earlier in the week. Seeing those monitors, learning what the numbers mean so you can watch them and make sure that they are fine, that's something I wish I would never have to experience again. Then, in this random show, one character grasps the patient's hand and there is the finger monitor that all patients wear and she asks him to "squeeze if you can hear me". It is such an overused plot and overused line and even as I write it, I'm transported back to sitting in my grandma's living room and watching soap operas, but maybe because of that, it is what we say. Even the nurses said that. "Mr. Hook, squeeze my hand if you can hear me. Can you hear me, Mr. Hook?"

This afternoon we hired a company to come and do some yardwork for us. I was admiring the results and commenting how great it looked to have the enormous, practically dead, rosebush chopped down. Gary said, "Oh, they didn't do that. I did it last week." I can honestly say that I freaked out, both with him and on the inside too. He told me that he did it while I was gone, so I wouldn't make him stop. That's so much worse because if something had happened to him, no one would have been here to help him. It means I have to ease up and let him do whatever he wants to do, so he won't sneak around. It's kind of like when you have to let your toddler, then child, then teen have more privileges and freedom because you want them to begin to do more while you're there to provide a safety net; not when they are all alone and you can't help them.

Courage is a wonderful thing. Having peace and resting in God's promises is even better. But I have to admit that sometimes things are even harder now than they were during the middle of the crisis, because they're unexpected and they bring out emotions that no longer need to be kept in check to deal with the crisis at hand. Seeing all the progress that Gary has made is amazing and wonderful, but this side of it isn't always easier.

12 Weeks of Summer (and it's almost over)

What a summer it has been! It’s incredible to take a look back at last spring and even comprehend how much our lives have changed in such a short time.

There is much to share about Gary and his progress. He has gone from somewhere around 10 medications while in the hospital to a couple of weeks left on his ulcer medication and that's it. His blood pressure is usually stable, vision is hardly ever doubled anymore and his dizziness is much improved. Exercise really lowers his blood pressure, but he keeps at it anyway. He is determined to get stronger. His speech is almost back to normal and when he smiles now, there is no droop on the left. Dr. Kim saw him last week and he was grinning like a Cheshire cat after asking Gary about his improvements. He said he never knew for sure that some nerve hadn't been damaged.

This week saw the end of “chairs”. There is no more wheelchair in the early morning and the shower chair will be taken apart and re-boxed. The only special chair in Gary’s near future is a beach chair, as we have decided that we desperately need a short trip to listen to ocean waves and take long walks across the sand, assisted by a wooden cane, because yes, the walker is actually gone also.

Just a few short weeks ago, I shared with some friends that it was heartbreaking to see Gary unable to walk and I cried as I said that no one knew how long it would be before he could play on the worship team again. It was only a few days later that he came walking into the kitchen unaided because he forgot his walker and he regularly forgets his cane now also. And this Sunday, Gary played his first worship service. Alyssa and I were in the nursery when we heard the claps and cheers. At first we had been upset that we were going to miss him; then we realized that we would be crying so much, it was better if we just stayed in with the kiddos. As it turned out, we took turns peeking into the auditorium to see him sitting up there playing the keyboard. I’ll admit it…we took pictures. I'm pretty sure everyone totally understood.

In all honesty it seems like May 27^th was a million years ago. If I even start to list all the changes in our lives, I get overwhelmed. Gary is not the only one who has changed…the girls and I see life in a totally different way. There are some trivial things that mean more than anyone can imagine, like watching Gary setting up the sprinkler or walking through the grocery store. There are also many trivial things that make us all impatient; I’ll do you all the favor of not listing those here. Amy tells me that she has so much trouble now dealing with people who are constantly in a bad mood for no good reason (which is kind of funny if you knew her as a teenager:)). Alyssa struggles a lot with those who take good things for granted. She knows how incredibly quickly all of that can be taken away from you.

There is a country song called, “Live Like You Were Dying” and it expresses my feelings so well, “I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying…I was the friend a friend should be.” I think all of us realize that not only is our time on this earth finite, we should truly fill our days with the things that matter: God, family, friends, talking with one another, reading good books, eating good food, taking care of ourselves, going places, pursuing our passions and yes, even watching our favorite TV shows:). Alyssa and I have pretty much given up facebook. I check in a couple of times a day for a few minutes and she only gets on about once a week. I’m only on the computer to write or to prepare for another year of school. I’ve also found that housework is just as easily done once a month as once a week and the house still looks almost as clean. We love spending time with our friends, laughing together, trying new restaurants, going to movies…just give us a call.

Alyssa and I have been on a search for a “Big Adventure” and she finally settled on one. She is going to conquer her fear of heights by doing a zipline as soon as it cools off a bit. If you hear an echoing, unexplained scream on an early fall morning, just assume it’s her. She is also going to take some chances with some solo dance performances and competitions, just for the experience. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained”. I have some big plans for the school year, new programs to try and what I’m calling our “Downtown Day”. I’ve decided you can study at Central Market, by the lake or at the Arboretum just as well as the kitchen. And my goal is to see one movie a week, if there’s something even remotely interesting. Amy is interviewing for a childcare job and she is on a waitlist for her first ACC math class. Gary has always loved trying new things, so I won’t be surprised by anything he wants to do. We already have some new kitchen utensils, including the butane torch for cooking meringues (and it also comes in handy for browning sausages apparently, as he was doing that for lunch the other day). He did have some disappointments this last week, when his body, which still requires lots of healing sleep, didn’t allow him to experience some adventures with “the merry men”, but they’re planning a Texas BBQ Extravaganza soon that will help make up for it.

Honestly, the last few weeks have been a little shaky for Alyssa and me, as we are still dealing with anxiety over Gary and all that he is doing and trying to do (like exercise for an hour or two a day…I mean, who does that when they’re healthy, much less 3 months out from brain surgery). Just how much anxiety we were feeling was well illustrated this last weekend when Gary walked in from the garage and announced, “I’m bleeding.” I was out of the chair in a split second; both Alyssa and I felt the adrenaline shoot through our bodies. I literally felt faint. You will all be relieved to hear that he just scratched the top of his hand:/ and he’s now been asked to be more careful about his sudden announcements. We’re letting him do as much as he wants to do and take over the old jobs that he used to do, without being frightened (sort of) and this week has been good. I had a 2 ½ hour coffee time with a dear friend and didn’t tear up once and the last three days the house has once again been filled with Alyssa’s laughter. I think we’re finally realizing that this amazing man is on his way back, and like the summer, this is almost over!