So I haven’t blogged much for the last three weeks, but I
also haven’t gotten much of anything else useful accomplished, either,
primarily due to a streak of crazy events that have stretched my patience and
coping abilities completely to the limit (or maybe a bit beyond).
On Tuesday, May 7, we received a call from our grandson’s
mommy saying that he had crashed his bike and his daddy was taking him to the
ER. A mere 15 minutes later she called back and said that he was being
airlifted to a Springfield hospital. Needless to say, we gathered up my
knitting bag, water bottles, and a few other necessities and made a beeline for
the aforementioned hospital. The drive normally takes a solid hour, but not
this time! We received the phone call at 6:56 p.m. and were walking in the door
of the Springfield ER at 7:45. After sitting for some time in the waiting room
with Kindon’s other grandparents, his aunt, and his great-grandmother we were
finally allowed to briefly go back to see him. As we walked into the cubicle,
Kindon was lying on the hospital gurney with an IV in one arm, a blood
transfusion running in the other, heart and respiration monitors and a pulse-ox
all attached in various locations, and a neck brace as a precaution. He looked
over at us, smiled politely, and said “Hi, how’s it going?” Sigh…..
He was diagnosed with a laceration of his liver, which
fortunately was no longer actively bleeding, so the decision was made not to
intervene surgically but to admit him to PICU for observation in case the
bleeding started again. Thus began a more-than-week-long ordeal for him in the
hospital. After the first 24 hours, he began asking every nurse or doctor who
came into his room “Can I go home now?”
Meanwhile my sister had been ill and diagnosed with acute
pancreatitis. The day after Kindon’s accident she emailed to say that she had
gall bladder removal surgery scheduled for Friday morning – a mere 36 hours
away. Normally I would have arranged to fly down to Florida to help care for
her during this time, but the combination of Kindon in the PICU and the very
short notice made such a trip virtually impossible. Thankfully the surgery was
completed uneventfully and her recovery was quick as well.
On the following Tuesday I got the happy news that Kindon
was discharged from the hospital, followed almost immediately by the shocking
news that my Aunt Carol, age 68, had passed away in her sleep in Waukegan. The
family was beyond stunned at this turn of events since she had recently been in
the best health of her adult life, and indeed had gotten a clean bill of health
at her most recent doctor visit a couple of weeks previously.
On Wednesday, I got a call from my son informing me that
Kindon was on his way back to the hospital with vomiting and abdominal pain. I
had no sooner hung up from that conversation than our scanner went off with an
ambulance being paged out to my in-laws’ address for a “93 year old male having
breathing problems”. So after being assured that Kindon was essentially in
stable condition we spent the evening hanging out at the local ER while my
father-in-law was poked, prodded, tested, and x-rayed before being pronounced
healthy enough to go back home. Later follow-up tests did not reveal any
serious ongoing problems and he continues to do well.
On Friday morning I left town with my cousin, brother,
uncle, and aunt to head for Waukegan to the visitation and funeral. It was a
long and tiring trip but the time spent with family members I hadn’t seen for
some time was very precious (although I would much have preferred to be
gathering for any other reason than this). One highlight of Friday afternoon
was receiving the phone call that Kindon had once again been released from the
hospital and was resting comfortably at home. The funeral was Saturday morning
followed by a dinner at my uncle’s church – a wonderful opportunity to
reconnect with distant family members. We headed back toward home after the
dinner and arrived home about 8:00 that evening.
At church on Sunday, one of my (many) prayer requests was
for a less eventful week. I skipped an out-of-town church meeting on Sunday
afternoon, choosing instead to rest and enjoy some much needed calm and
solitude. The next two days proceeded more or less uneventfully, and then on
Wednesday evening I received a text that my nine month old daycare baby (aka
Bitty Girl) had experienced a seizure and was being airlifted to Springfield.
Thankfully she recovered quickly and was home from the hospital late Thursday
and back in daycare on Friday – along with my Little Dude whose mommy was
having gall bladder surgery.
The first two days of the holiday weekend were spent at the
Macoupin County Historical Society’s Spring Festival, with over 130 craft
booths, craft and other demonstrations, a tractor parade, and many other
exciting activities. Unfortunately due to the rain on Saturday and my general
level of stress and fatigue, I completely neglected to blog or update my
Facebook page about the festival and didn’t manage to get any photos at all. Monday
was spent preparing for a family cookout to be held that evening.
On Tuesday morning, Mike left and Bitty Girl fell asleep for her morning
nap. I sat in the living room alone, stunned at the overwhelming quiet.
Although it didn’t last long, it was a wonderful oasis of peace in a flood of
craziness. Although I hesitate to mention it for fear of jinxing anything, it
has so far been a relatively uneventful week. This weekend we have plans to
attend the wedding of a young friend (wedding gift pics to follow – as soon as
the knitting is finished! LOL!) and I’m greatly looking forward to the month of
June with great expectations of moving out of Crazyville and back to our
regularly scheduled chaos.
I am incredibly thankful for all of the wonderful friends
and family who prayed for all of us and supported us as we did our best to
survive the last three weeks. We are well and truly blessed!
