Longing

My world has been narrowed quite a lot in the last several weeks.  Although I agreed to the terms of hospice care, I am always surprised when the next "thing" comes up and the response I get.  That's not to say that I am dissatisfied with the service.  In fact, I've been quite pleased with my experience.  I recently had an episode in which I slept from 9:30 p.m. until 4:00 p.m. the following day.  That, my friends, is a lot of sleeping!  The nurse came out to make sure I was ok (I was).  Since that initial day, it has happened a couple more times.  On that first day when the nurse was here, I was surprised that I didn't get the reaction from her that I expected.  She was very, very calm.  Not negligent, not uncaring...just calm.  I suppose that's how it goes in the hospice world. 

I have a deep longing to be done here.  If I were to be really truthful, I would tell you that I am disappointed most mornings to open my eyes and figure out that I am still here.  I honestly thought I would have been taken home by now.  Of course, the plans I make for myself rarely coincide with the plans that God makes for me.  So, I spend a lot of my time thinking about heaven.  What will it look like?  Will I get to spend some one-on-one time with Jesus?  Will there be lines to stand in to wait to meet the heroes of my faith:  Moses, Noah, David, Peter, Peter (to name a few) like the queue at DisneyWorld? 

"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man all that God has prepared for those that love Him."  1 Corinthians 2:9

My mom wrote this verse for me and hung it on the wall where I can see it often.  It is a promise I cling to with all my might.  I know that there must be some reason that God is keeping me here, still alive, instead of swooping me up to be with Him.  I certainly do wish I could understand it.

Instead, Monster marches on.  Although my pain is well-managed, it has been necessary to take extra measures lately to ensure that that continues.  I recently switched from oral meds to a pain pump.  Were you to ever see me, you would notice the giant needle that is stabbed in my chest, or you might widen your eyes at the iv tubing that is attached to me, which must be carried everywhere I go.  Everywhere.  There's no question that the pump is the better option...I was taking as many as 30 pills each day.  Still, it is cumbersome and only so much tubing will stay put in the cute Vera Bradley bag I tote around.

All that medicine is making me do weird things.  Example:  I had a dream where I was quite insistent that Princess Lovely come for tea.  This was overheard by my mother, who is still giggling about it.  Princess Lovely--ha!  I also have had several instances where my hands will move while I'm sleeping.  A few nights ago I tried to feed myself some imaginary yogurt with an imaginary spoon, only to wake up and find that things were just as I had left them when my eyes were closed.  There was no spoon, no yogurt--just bedsheets.  Bummer.

You might be wondering how my three little cowboys are holding up.  Truth be told, I'm kind of wondering the same thing. It is like pulling teeth to get them to talk about it, and when we begin to scratch the surface, I get so nervous! What I do know for sure is that they are frightened and insecure--even though we are trying so hard to make it okay for them.  Three individual little people = three individual needs.  The hurt is huge.  At times, it feels insurmountable.  I have some guilt, because when this is all said and done, I get to be the lucky one.  They have to stay here and learn to live without their mom.  Some days seem good, and other days are very emotional and difficult.  You would not waste a prayer on my three precious boys.

How about some good news?  Ally's Wish is booming!  Due to the generous support from so many, wishes are being granted!   The Harrison family just returned from their trip to DisneyWorld.   Angie was able to spend time in the parks each day with her husband the their three children, making memories that will last.   Additionally, we have another mom whose wish we are already working on!  She has meticulously journaled throughout her long fight with her Monster, and now she wants to have her journals bound into a book.  That will be the next project for the team.  It thrills me to no end that this foundation exists to make wishes come true for hurting families!  As always, you can support us financially and make a difference to other people.  Simply go to www.allyswish.org and click on the "donate" button.  Thank you!

Please pray.  Please pray that the days, however many there are left, would pass quickly--but not TOO quickly.  Please pray that I would have discernment in making decisions and that the hearts of those who love me would be prepared.  I am fully, 100%, no-questions-asked ready to go home.  I'm thankful---SO thankful--that this space is only temporary.  You can have all this world, but give me Jesus. 

From This Side

I have great friends who remind me daily that I am loved.

I have a great family who takes care of me and shows love through their sacrificial giving.

I have three little boys who are my world.

And I have Jesus, who is faithful and unchanging.

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."  Psalm 73:26

Many of you know that Psalm 73:26 is my life verse.  These are dark, scary days when my flesh and my heart actually are failing.  These are days when I desperately need something to cling to, and this is it:  Jesus.  He has given me everything I need.  Admittedly, there are times I take my eyes off of Him, and that is the very second I begin to flail in overwhelming waters.  I start to drown.  I can not--not for one second --take my eyes off of my Light.

I have recently experienced a minor (felt major to me!) medical emergency where I could not get enough oxygen.  It felt like there was not enough air in the whole world to help  me breathe in a cadence that would sustain my life.  So. Very. Scary.  We called hospice to help, and eventually I got it under control.   It was an eye-opening experience for a lot of reasons, the main one being this:  When I need medical help--REAL medical help for a REAL medical crisis--I'm not going to go to the hospital.  I'm not going to call a doctor.  There will be no emergency room.  I'm going to call hospice.  Nurse will come and she will hold my hand.  Mom will tell me "It's okay," over and over again.  I will feel panicked, and I am very, very afraid of that.

 

It's a bad feeling to live in fear.  Especially when I know that the fear is unnecessary.  Jesus will take care of me.  But from this side, it's hard to see how that will happen.  From this side, it's dark.  From this side, it is terribly frightening.

 

I have so much.  But from this side...my most hidden thoughts bubble up.  He is enough.  But how can it all possibly come together for good?

Catching Up

The good news never stops.  My computer died.  Apparently, according to my IT-gifted Hubby who is supper amazing and I have not said enough about through this ordeal, it was a tragic, nothing-could-have-stopped-it death.  Irreversible.  Bad news for someone who passes many of the hours of the day online. He has been there with me through the roughest parts from the beginning and to even blog about it is too hard.

Sigh.

The computer I'm using now is one that Hubs managed to resurrect "just enough" from the family electronic graveyard (What?  Doesn't your family have one of those?!?).  He pulled a power cord from the mix-and-match pile that fortuitously made the green light come on.  Ahhh.....sweet relief! 

Baby has taken a liking to Goliath's euphonium.  90% of the time, Goliath fails to put the instrument fully away in its case, which is more of a temptation than his youngest brother can handle.  I doubt I will ever fully get used to that which sounds like a dying animal in my front room.

Little Middle is playing baseball for the first time.  Unless you are a baseball mom, you can NOT understand the feeling of the knot in the pit of your stomach when your little guy steps up to bat.  No amount of time spent in the batting cages or balls tossed in the backyard can prepare either one of you for the enormous pressure of wanting needing to make the aluminum 'POP!' sound when the bat and ball make contact.  The pressure is SO intense, in fact, that when the pitcher (whose mother is biting her fingernails 2 rows in front of you, by the way) pegs your little man with the ball on his fifth pitch, you have to restrain yourself from rushing the mound to hug him because your kid just walked to 1st base!!!  And so it goes...until the next time he goes up to bat.  There is not enough Xanax on the planet for this wonderful walk into the world of beginning baseball.

Of course, real life continues to barrel its way straight through our family.  Kids can say and do the darndest things, but Monster threatens to cover their light with his darkness.  Truthfully, each morning I open my eyes, and I am disappointed.  What I would really like to have happen is that I could go to heaven one night while I sleep.  Wouldn't that be perfectly lovely?  Fall asleep and transition from this stupid broken world into the next beautifully perfect one.  Talk about a dream come true!

I have "settled" (a term I use super-loosely) into a daily sick routine.  I still get up and wake the boys up at their appointed times each morning.  This is my favorite.  I think, especially for the littles, that it helps promote a sense of normalcy, i.e. "Mom's face is the first one I see in the morning.  That is right.".  We get them fed, dressed, and out the door, usually on time, with lunches in their hands and completed homework in their backpacks.  I know that's a lot more than what a lot of healthy parents are able to do, so I try to be thankful.  Honestly, though, it's not enough for me.  I can't believe that I, who was once such a hands-on, do-it-all mom, have been reduced to a watch-them-shovel-in-Lucky-Charms mom who considers it a successful morning if she doesn't vomit in front of them.  

After they go to school, I breathe a sigh of relief, take my first handful of many pills, and make my first big decision of the day:  to shower or bathe?  Yes, I do one of the other each day.  Both are wrought with perils that an ordinary person might not consider.  A shower means that I need to wash my hair, a problem all in itself.  Fortunately, I have added to my repertoire of medical equipment a shower chair.  I hate it just like I hate all the other stuff.  BUT...you'd be surprised how helpful it has been in doing something as simple as washing my hair.  I had one morning when my sweet daddy was here that I asked him to help me wash my hair over the kitchen sink.  It was the day after that that the shower chair was delivered!  A bath...well, who doesn't like a nice warm bath every now and then?  Especially when they don't feel well?  The problem with that is that I keep falling asleep in the bathtub.  It's happened so often that now my caretakers (i.e. Hubby and Mom) have strict instructions from Nurse to keep a close eye on me.  That eye that she has in mind is closer than I will allow, so we've had to compromise with sponge baths a few times.  

After I get cleaned up and changed into fresh pj's, it's time for a nap.  Yes, even though I just got up, it's time to go back to bed.  Very often, I will sleep for another 2 hours (or longer).  Truthfully, I wish my body would allow me to sleep even longer.  There are points in the day that I think would be better if I just let go and slept straight through.  

When I wake up, sometimes I eat lunch, and sometimes I eat nothing at all.  It all depends on how I'm feeling.  I can't seem to hold interest in my books.  I've always been an avid reader!  But right now, for example, I am at the halfway point in a new book by one of my favorite authors, and I just can't feign enough interest to talk myself into reading further.  What a letdown.   I'm not much of a TV or movie person, but a lot of times I leave it on for background noise.  What else am I going to do?

I don't drive anymore.  Correction:  I can drive, but I don't.  I am taking so much medication (23 pills a day to be exact, and that's without "extra" stuff like phenergran for nausea or Xanax for my 6th grader stress), that who knows what is happening to my response times, my reflexes, etc.  So I depend on Hubby  or the occasional friend to get me where I need to go.  It's not really that hard to work out, because I don't leave the house much.  Still, the loss of that independence stings.  It's amazing how I never seemed to care about just getting out of the house for no reason before, and now that I can't, it really feels like it matters.  The Bus just sits in the driveway, seemingly taunting me.  

Anyway, back to the rundown of my day:  The boys come home in the afternoon, and then the craziest thing happens.  I swear that as soon as the door opens and I hear the first, "Hi, Mom!", my stomach starts to hurt.  I become uncomfortable in my own skin, and that horrible feeling increases over the next several hours until the clock mercifully allows me to take bedtime meds and I can sleep.  I don't know why those two things have to intersect, but that is what happens nearly every. single. day.  I hate it so much, because I feel like I don't spend nearly the time with them that I want to.  They come in my room and tell me about their day, of course, but I'm no match for them.  Most nights I have reading time with Baby, usually some math or some other can't-wait-to-be-done assignment with Little Middle, and then Goliath will come in and demonstrate his newest playlist for me before bedtime.  I am so thankful for these times with them, but again:  it's not enough.  I've fallen hard.  And every day is a tough reminder that I'm not what I used to be.

So that's a typical day.  Of course, weekends are a little different.  I have been trying very hard to make Little Middle's baseball and Baby's soccer games.  Hubby and I sat out in the crazy wind on Saturday morning cheering for a bunch of second graders who were falling all over themselves.  Hilarious!  But even that felt bad to me:  I used to be the team mom.  I went to every practice, I set up the snack schedule, I made sure he had his cleats, his socks, his shin guards for every practice and game.  Now I have no idea how it all comes together each week!  Of course, I'm not so arrogant as to believe that the world of soccer needs me to make it all jive.  I simply miss being an integral part of my children's lives.  And I'm at a loss how to achieve that feeling of closeness again in this new world.

The boys seem to be doing well.  They have each had their own mini-breakdowns from time to time, and that is to be expected.  I don't think you live knowing that your mother is dying and not have issues.  School teachers, counselors, coaches, church personnel...they're all on board with us.  There are people falling over themselves waiting and wanting to help the 3 little cowboys.  And for that, ya'll, I am unbelievably, overwhelmingly thankful.  Crazy thankful.  God has been so gracious to put our family in a place where we are cared for and loved on.  There's no way that the boys could be carrying on so well if they weren't in the middle of a you-are-loved cloud everywhere they go.  Life is hard enough, and a curveball like this can really alter the course of one's entire life one way or the other if we let it.

I still worry, of course.  I spend a lot of those empty hours in my days worrying.  Some days I feel like all I DO is worry.  I love this translation of a well-known verse:  "Don't fret or worry.  Instead of worrying, pray.  Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.  Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down.  It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life."  (Philippians 4:6-7, MSG)

This Scripture offers an option:  Instead of worrying, pray.  And don't just pray asking for things, but offer up praise.  I love that.  If I am doing it right, I shouldn't just ask God for his watchcare over my sons.  I should praise Him!  And there's plenty to praise Him for:  He is big enough to handle my requests.  He loves the boys even more than I love them.  He has good plans for them.  And before I know it, my need to worry is replaced with Christ.  A sense of God's wholeness...I can't think of anything better to have on this earth until I can get to heaven and be remade!

I don't know how it's going to happen.  A lot of days--more often than not--I get bogged down with the imaginings of everything that can go wrong.  Raising three children with two parents is a huge job.  Raising three broken, hurt children with only one broken, hurt parent is an astronomical, how-can-it-be-done job!  But my God knows.  He knows our hurts, and He can heal.  That's what I pray for:  healing for my sons.  I don't want them to ever forget me.  But I do want God to use the experience that this hurt and loss is/will be for something spectacular.  I can't even imagine yet what it could be!...But God knows.   And I trust Him with them...even the one who never takes his ear phones out of his ears just to make me nuts.

Ally's Wish

 Cancer is a lonely place to be.  Instead of planning out dinner menus and baseball schedules, I'm making end-of-life plans.  Instead of dreaming up the next family vacation, I'm fretting over life insurance policies and trust funds for the boys.

I have good people in my life.  Really.  I have GOOD people in my life.  A few weeks ago, I met a group of friends for dinner.  I had no idea why we were gathered, but I quickly found out that it wasn't just to talk about hedghogs, our kids, and shampoo.  No, they had something much bigger and more important.  Something that made me forget for a while that my life is not what I want it to be:

Ally's Wish is a new foundation put together by my amazing friends.  The purpose of Ally's Wish is to grant wishes for other mothers with terminal illness.  Spread joy.  Give hope!

I can not think of a more fantastic way for my legacy to live on.  It's not often that I am without words, but I was at the dinner table that night.  My friend Missy explained to me how she had been praying faithfully for me (which I knew she had been).  Like so many of us, she wanted to do something.  She wanted to put something behind her words.  But she didn't know what.  So...she kept praying.  And one morning, God gave it to her.  She immediately called the other friends, and Ally's Wish was born.  They had the whole thing put together and finished before they ever even presented it to me.  There was not a fear that I would say "no".  Because God was at work...there was something so much biger happening than what any of us could ever do on our own.

 At dinner that night, they asked me what my wish is.  They wanted mine to be the first one granted.  They said that I should dream big.  They said that I should think outside the box.  They said that I am loved, and that people want to help.  

So, I am thrilled to tell you that my wish is for this blog to be published.  I don't necessarily want it to be on a shelf in every Barnes & Noble across America, but I want it to be published at least so that each of my boys can have a copy of their own--a way for them to remember that their mom loved them with every inch of her heart.

Maybe you want to help.  Maybe God is leading you to bring hope to other sick mothers the way these friends of mine have brought hope to me.  Maybe you want to donate or volunteer.  Go to our website and look around.  I hope your heart is touched and you are moved to help.  On behalf of moms like me who love their kids and will have to leave them sooner than we want to...thank you.  Thank you for being an instrument in God's hands.  Thank you for reminding us that there are still good things to be had, joy to fill hearts like ours.  He is a good God.  

Happy Birthday, Little Middle!

Dear Little Middle,

Happy 10th birthday to my little man!  And what a little man you are indeed!  You have grown and changed so much this year...it makes my head spin to look back!  All the while, you give us great reason to look ahead.  Dad and I are SO unbelievably proud of you.

This year was finally the year that you started to outgrow your Lego mania.  For five+ years, I never thought you would want to do anything else as much as build Lego sets.  Those nasty little blocks have nearly taken my foot off more times than I can count during late-night bedtime checks!  And yet your love affair with Legos persisted.  It's what you asked for for birthdays and Christmases.  It's what you spent your saved-up dollars on at Target and how you spent long hours sitting in the game room.  Do I think you are completely over your Lego love?  No way.  But the good news is you've passed it on to your little brother...a legacy not lost.

This summer you experienced one of your first heartaches when your best friend moved away.  M had been your best buddy for two years.  You guys did everything together--games, swimming, running between each other's houses--and it broke your heart for him to leave.  To tell the truth, it broke mine, too.  You were a little lost this summer, but you have slowly found your way again.  There will never be another M, but you are learning to spend time with other friends and still have fun.  Did I tell you that I'm really proud of you? 

In the fall you started 4th grade.  4th grade?!?  How is that possible?!?  It took little work on my part to convince the powers that be at school that you deserved needed to be with the same amazing teacher that Goliath had.  And, boy, am I glad I did!!!  You, even more than your older brother, have shown me the crazy-good perks of having a teacher who is also your friend.  Just yesterday morning, you were freaking out a little bit about the did I?/did I not have math homework over the weekend? question.  I was able to text Mrs. C and ask her, thereby diverting a crisis.  It pays to be friends with your kid's teacher!

You do well in school, although you would obviously rather be spending your time doing something outside the classroom.  You consistently perform better in ELA/spelling/grammar than you do in math & science.  Your brain is wired like your mama's, and seemingly no amount of patient coaxing by Mrs. C is going to change that!  You like weird science experiments, though.  We could mix baking soda and vinegar together every day of the week and you would never tire of it.  The messier, the better!

Speaking of school, you got a great gift this year!  Our school district is on the technology bandwagon, and is investing in iPads for every student.  4th grade was on the first deployment list this year.  For WEEKS, all I heard was, "When I get my iPad, I will __________" and " I will download ____________ app when I get my iPad."  And then....the day was HERE!  I had to go to school and stand in a crazy line--not at all too much to ask of a mom with the happiest son on the planet!  You love that thing!  You have become very proficient at using it, and it's been more than one occasion that I've needed to ask you an Apple question.  We laid down rules early on, and you are near-perfect at obeying them.  Thank you for not being a technological nightmare kid.

The Year You Were Nine has been a year with joys of its own, but also plenty of sadness.  Just recently we had the very worst family meeting that you could ever imagine:  the one where we shared the news that I am not going to get better from The Cancer.  That news was met by a staggering silence on your part.  No crying, no yelling, no nothing...just an awful, dreadful silence.  I don't blame you one little bit. Since that day you have actually been a little more hands-on.  You have hugs a'plenty when I need one.  You are almost always happy to come down and sit for a spell to catch a show on Disney Channel or to do math (ugh) homework in my company.  I don't really care what it is, as long as I get to be with you.  

Little Middle, you have always been my happy-go-lucky, laid-back son.  You easily have a smile on your face and you laugh fast and loud.  I think you are one of the best ideas that God ever had!  I wish so much that I had been able to give you different news on that night, or at least tell you that we are in the middle of a bad dream from which we will surely wake up very soon.  Neither one of those is true, though.  It seems that our family's bad dream can't be stopped.  I want it to be different for you.  It appears, though, that God has a plan for you that is opposite of the one I would have written.  I don't understand it, but I choose to trust Him, and I pray every day that you will, too.  Remember, sweet love:  We serve a big God who loves us and is always in control.  One of the ways I know that is because that same God gave you to me!  I didn't deserve the happy, calm baby that I met at the hospital on that beautiful spring afternoon.  All I knew was that God had chosen us to be together.  And I'm so glad that He did!  I have loved every single day I've gotten to spend with you.  No matter how many days we have left to be together, I will make the most out of them.  You are precious to me, little man.  Never, ever wonder if your mom loves you...because she does.

With my whole heart,

Mom

Bellies, Beds, and Body Bags

I have a Monster growing inside of me.  There is no denying his existence, nor his growth.  Yesterday, I looked like myself.  A little rough, yes, because I was in dire need of a good hair-washing and some fresh pajamas.  But other than that, I looked like me.  This morning I got up and I look like me .... at 5-months pregnant!  Seriously.  I called Nurse in a bit of a frenzied panic.  How could this happen just...overnight?!?  She calmly told me a story about abdominal disease and fluid build-up.  I not-so-calmly asked her what we could do about it.  Her answer?  Nothing.  That's what.  We do NOTHING about so much accumulation of fluid that I look like my former pregnant self.  Wha..........????  This just keeps getting better.

Then, I went on a little field trip with Hubby and Daddy.  We went to a funeral home.  I'd been there before, when my friend lost her own daddy in a sad and sudden way.  I had no real emotion going in.  Actually, I felt a little detached.  Maybe that's why I was so surprised to see a dead person first thing upon entry.  She was just laying there in a room off to the side, surrounded by floral sprays, waiting for her friends and family to come pay their respects.  I actually whispered out loud, "There's a dead person over there."  Stating the obvious didn't help, but it broke the ice when the funeral director came out at that exact moment.

He seated us in a conference room that was not spectacular by any means.  I could have been at any company in Anytown, USA.  This room was only set apart by the collection of urns in a glass case in the corner.  The Director took a seat at the head of the table and started his spiel.  He did a good job.  We were well-armed with a list of questions and ideas, and Mr. Director provided all the answers that we needed.  He also gave us some good information about cemeteries in the area.  Since I am lacking in this area of expertise, I felt grateful.  Did you know that not all cemeteries have perpetual care?  If you are a local, this might explain a lot to you like it did for me.

I never realized how many decisions there are to make for a funeral.  I have been working on a few things on my own at home, but WOW!  Who knew?  One of the most important decisions to make is the choosing of the casket.  We were quickly educated about the differences in steel grades, wood types, and then we were allowed to enter The Casket Room.  It wasn't like the casket rooms that you see on TV and such.  There were only 8 full-size caskets in the room.  The rest of the displays were just cut pieces of the casket with a pull-out display from the wall.  Weird, but efficient.

I found one I liked.  I mean, I guess I like it.  Again, weird.  Mr. Director regaled us with a tale of a husband and wife who visited The Casket Room and asked him to take their pictures inside their caskets of choice.  Why?  What in the world is wrong with people?!?  I guess that's one way you can really be sure you're getting what you like.

While I held up pretty well through the funeral home experience, I must confess that I am a little freaked out by the thought of bugs and creepy-crawlies and, um, elements getting through.  Hence the need for an outer burial container, but still....ew.  That's the only thing that really bothered me.  I was pretty calm as Mr. Director went down the list of  his a la carte menu.  We selected some things we really wanted, and drew question marks beside others that require decisions.  Then we thanked him for his time and went on our way.

For as much as I had been dreading this visit, I suppose it went relatively well.  I did it, and I'm proud of myself for that.  I feel like taking care of these things is a way that I can take care of my family.  They don't need to see to all these little details and worries if I can do it for them while I'm still here.

Right now I am waiting for Nurse to come.  This will be the third appearance she has made at my house this week.  Maybe it's just me, but I'm thinking a 3/5 ratio of nurse needs isn't that great.  She's coming to access my port (which I haven't used since last spring--almost one year).  They are going to "feed" me some of my medications through my port so I have fewer pills to take.  It's a lovely thought, because I have got some pills!  Mom bought me one of those old-people pill organizers.  It's the supreme version:

Nifty, huh?  Every one of those little spaces is filled up with pills for me to take.  Every. Single. Day.  It's a lot.

Update:  Nurse has come and gone.  She totally threw me under the bus to Hubby and Daddy about not wanting to use the wheelchair.  Which I don't.  I was thinking maybe we could take it when we go to look at cemeteries.  Seems appropriate.  She managed to access the port with minimal discomfort to me.  I am most thankful.  The port has always been a difficult thing to deal with.  Maybe now I know that the medical staff just weren't doing it right!

I now am receiving methadone through the mediport.  I am hooked up to it, which means I must carry it with me all the time, everywhere I go.  Ugh...I hate that.  Just looking at the unattractive bag which houses it, I am already freaking out, wondering how I will carry it around and what I can possibly wear that will hide the tube sticking out of my chest (and disguise my giant belly).  Again:  ugh.  These are problems I didn't sign up for when Monster came nosing around.

Also, this afternoon we are expecting delivery of a hospital bed.  Nurse asked me how I had been sleeping, and the answer is, "Not well."  I even take Ambien, the magic med, every night, and I am still waking up several times each night because I am crazy-uncomfortable.  It's like she can read my mind.  Nurse said that is due to the swelling in my abdomen, and that laying flat will become increasingly difficult.  Then she gently reminded me that I could have a hospital bed that can elevate my head and/or feet, and it would probably be a great time for it.  I agreed, even though it's about the last thing in the world I want to have in my possession (except a wheelchair).  So there is one coming.  I think that the only twin sheets we have left are Goliath's old ones with the camo pattern.  Mom suggested that I send Daddy to Target to buy pretty new ones for my "new" bed.  Or maybe I'll just sleep on the camo sheets for a few days.

P.S.  Just in case you ever need to know, "disaster pouch" is a nice way of saying "body bag."

Come One, Come All!

We are so incredibly blessed to live in a community where we are surrounded by people who care about us and look for ways to show it.  One of those ways is coming up this Tuesday, March 4:

A few things:

*You DO NOT have to have a paper flyer to show when you come in.  You can show the flyer on your phone, or just mention to your server that you are there to support the "3 little cowboys" family.

*The event is open all day, not just at dinner time.  You are welcome to go to Chili's for lunch, a mid-afternoon snack, or dinner--or all of the above!

*For every friend that eats at Chili's and mentions our name, our family will earn 15% of the amount of that check.

*The event is open at the Chili's restaurants in Flower Mound (3040), Justin Road, Lewisville, Hickory Creek, and Denton.

You, our friends, our community, sustains us.  You have shown us unwavering support and unending love.  This event at Chili's is one of the things we have pointed out to our little cowboys as a way that God cares for us because people care for us.  We thank you in advance for your help with this special event, and mostly, we thank you for just being YOU!!!  Each of you is a huge blessing to our family!