Just Breathe

I never thought it would be so hard to be at home.  But there is something to be said about being together in grief and the past few days I have felt very alone. 

I had a complete meltdown last night after the kids went to bed as my grief finally started to catch up to me.  I did sleep better thankfully for about six hours, though once the first alarm went off and I made sure Aaron was awake, my mind wouldn't shut back down for me to catch that last hour. 

At work, I was totally struggling and then The Brit called. The funeral will definitely not be until next Thursday.  He made mention of wishing we had worked this out differently as he wished I was there and meltdown numero two happened.  I tried to explain how I didn't know it would be so hard to be here with him and the rest of my British family 3000 miles away.  I miss them all and my heart aches with them and for them. 

So with things being pushed back a week, we decided he would look at flights for me and I would see what I could arrange for the kids if I were to cross the pond after Easter.  I felt like it was the first time I had breathed since that horrible phone call Sunday morning.  The kids are arranged already because I have amazing people in my life; now I just have to wait to hear if the flight will be a decent price.

Did do kickboxing tonight as I needed a diversion and Brit, Jack told me to tell you how sorry he was and that he had a similar situation when he lost his dad.  Then we chatted about England for awhile as he had been there too.  I like him; he's a bully in class, but a compassionate human being in real life.

I'll know tomorrow if I'll be flying solo soon.  Thank you all for your prayers and keep 'em coming.

The News

For as tired as I was last night, I only slept for a few sporadic hours.  I was back up at 1:30am to wait for word on The Brit's arrival to England.  Why is it that when tragedy strikes, your paranoia level shoots through the roof?  Concerns about his safety, both on the plane and on the car journey to his father's house and I also couldn't bring myself to turn off the hall light last night when I went to bed.  It's almost like when death touches us, we are somehow afraid it is still right around the corner.

I sat up until I spoke to The Brit right around 3:00AM.  He was in the car with Lee, on his way to his dad's place.  I then tossed and turned until 6:00 before beginning the day.  Hopefully tonight, there will be sleep.

I spoke to The Brit and family this afternoon and so far everyone seems to be holding up fairly well.  Of course, this is the mechanical part of things; the arrangements and what has to be done.  I found out a few more details about how things happened and there was really no warning that things were going to go downhill as quickly as they did.  When I spoke to Allen I told him how I felt Saturday, her really good day before she died, was such a blessing for him.  She had been so bad on Friday that he feared her not living through the night, so for her to be so much of her old self on Saturday was a gift that I'm so thankful he had. 

It's always ironic how things work out when we look at them after the fact.  British Mother's Day is not the same as ours; theirs is in March, but for my own ease and to keep me from being confused, I always celebrated both Mum and my mother for our Mother's Day.  This year, for the first time ever, I talked to The Brit about sending his mum some flowers for the British Mother's Day and we did.  I can't begin to tell you how it makes me feel now knowing she would not have been around for the American one this year. 

I also spoke with Gina, my sister in law for awhile today.  I love this woman like my own sister and I miss her so much.  From over a year ago when we were finally able to really spend some time together when she and Gareth came here for a visit, she became a kindred spirit for me.  I so hope we get a chance to visit again one day soon.  I miss her.

It's looking like The Brit will not be home until after the 15th.  Due to the holiday weekend, funeral plans are being pushed to next week as of right now.  There's nothing they can do about it and I know he needs to stay there until it is finished.

Though today has been a bit better than yesterday, the shock is still with me over losing Daphne.

I simply cannot imagine this world without her.

With a Heavy Heart....

I want to write up something nicer when I am feeling more coherent and not quite so numb, but a few of you have asked about what happened with Chris' mum, so I'll give you what I know here.

Yesterday, Daphne was doing very well as my Father in Law told us.  She was kidding with the nurses, had a sponge bath and Allen was able to brush her hair for her (my FIL).  When Allen told me this, the thought of her rallying crossed my mind ever so briefly, because my dad rallied before he died and if he hadn't been in a bed, no one would have ever thought he was ill, yet alone terminally ill.  But I dismissed it immediately because it didn't make sense.  We barely had any information; they had removed a mass that was carried over to her liver, but didn't even have the results back from pathology.  She was going to be seeing a cancer specialist.  She was teasing with the nurses.  It just didn't seem possible.

This morning at five am, the phone rang and it was The Brit's brother, Gareth, who immediately handed the phone to his wife, Gina.  Daphne's heart had stopped and they were trying to revive her.  The Brit needed to come home. 

Twenty minutes later, Gareth called back.  They had gotten her heart going again, but Gareth said the cancer was all through her (this was new news for us and possibly for them as well) and he didn't think she was going to have much time.

The Brit booked a flight home.

Just around 8:00 this morning, Gareth called back.  Daphne was gone. 

There are certain moments that replay in your mind over and over again.  When we first learned of my father's cancer, the doctor pulled us all into this little room and told us.  The words forever imprinted on my memory were my mother's words.

"The love of my life and I'm going to have to watch him die."

This morning, the words were "O God, no."  The Brit said them during the first call and every time I think of it, I cry.  I loved her too, but the pain of seeing someone I love so much saying words that contained such grief and pain nearly destroys me.

It's hard feeling as if I need to be in two places at one time.  The Brit is on a plane to England alone.  I'm here with the kids, who have to go to school.  I have Easter bulletins to finish.  Aaron gets confirmed on Sunday.  The Brit won't come back till next Monday.  Legistics dictate that I needed to stay here.  My heart is in England with my husband and my British family. 

Kids are resilient.  They grieve for a moment and then move on to play.  I try to keep the tears hidden.

Sucks being an adult.

Productive Saturday

Today was pleasantly busy.  Woke up around 8:00 and loved on some kitty (a few of them are all about morning attention after our sleeping all night.  The nerve of us!) for awhile.  Once everyone was showered and dressed, we went to breakfast and then to Lowes for some torches and a backdoor mat for our deck. 

Aaron and I then had a rehearsal at the church for our Good Friday service.  We're doing dramatic readings and a play at the end which is very moving and intense.  When we got home, The Brit and JJ had gone out to play a round of golf, so I did some work on the front porch and finished up dinner.  After dinner, I cleaned out the shed and worked in the yard while The Brit and Aaron installed an electrical outlet for the deck.  Once darkness fell, we fired up the pit and relaxed on the deck.  It's so wonderful when the weather cooperates! 

The Brit's mum is doing fairly well.  They believe they got all of the mass, though it seems where was a small spot on her liver.  Once she is out of ICU and has regained some strength, she will see the cancer specialist and they will determine what to do next.  Technically, they are still waiting for the pathology results, but it sounds to me like cancer is the strong suspicion.  My FIL said she was much better today thankfully, so we'll keep praying and hope she continues to improve and that they are able to cure her.

Thanks for the prayers.  Keep 'em coming.  For prayer purposes, her name is Daphne.

Healthy Dose Friday Interrupted

So, we finally have a few vague answers on my mother in law.

They attempted the endoscopy this morning but ran into problems by finding a dead bit of bowel that I think was perforated.  She was taken into surgery where they removed a mass (I'm unsure if it is from her stomach or her bowel) and gave her a colostomy bag.  They believe the mass could be cancer, but are waiting for pathology.  She was taken to the ICU after surgery.

In a nutshell, that is what I know.  I'm hoping to get some other answers tomorrow.  See, I compare this to the only point of reference I have, which was my dad.  When he was diagnosed, we knew immediately that the cancer had spread and that they were unable to get it all during surgery.  So, this leaves me wondering if there is cancer, if it is contained to the mass they removed.  I'm assuming a doctor knows cancer on sight, right?  I also wonder if the colostomy is a temporary thing until she heals up.

It's really hard sitting three thousand miles away with a five hour time difference waiting for news.  The Brit internalizes all of it and doesn't much want to talk about it, which really is fruitless, because we know so little.  I keep wondering the questions over and over as we awaite some answers. 

At any rate, your prayers are appreciated greatly and I'll keep you informed as I have information.

Aunt Flo, No Mo'

As a pre-op, the time of the month where Aunt Flo paid her visit were always my worst food times.  Fast forward to being a post-op and you will find that is still the case.  And I hate it.

Could not eat dinner last night.  Why?  Because I ate a freaking chocolate covered carmel and had a session of dumping syndrome from it, so there was no eating dinner for me lest I make it worse and I was already feeling lousy enough.  So once I felt better, I had some animal crackers and freaking cheez its and then had an apple and peanut butter ala Trader Joes with none of the bad stuff in it.  Better than the crackers but sheesh!  Of course, Flo already  has me feeling bloated, so I'm having one of those days where I'm thinking "OMG, I am on my way back to 315 pounds again!  Make it stop!"  And no, I haven't gained anything thankfully.

It is so hard to reconcille what I ate before to what I eat now.  Now, a handful of crackers makes me feel guilty,but should it?  Is it really that bad?  Is it going to make me gain weight when I've been exercising?  Probably not.  At least, I don't think so. 

My biggest problem is television time in the afternoon.  Why?  Because if I get all my chores done, I have a new fetish of adoring The Dog Whisperer and I have taped aka DVR'd a bunch of them (I am such an animal freak and this guy amazes me).  When I'm watching television, I want to nibble.  I want to nibble something that is going to last awhile.  So what should I chose?  Right now it is the dreaded animal crackers and Cheez Its but surely there is a better solution.  It's head hunger, I'm sure of it, left over from years of smoking while watching television.  Then when I quit doing that, it became snacking while watching television.  So what do I replace it with now? 

I'm also having issues with jellybeans.  The church is trying to kill me really.  Not only have I had to avoid chocolate eggs in the narthex for weeks now, but now there are jellybeans in the vicinity!  Ugh!  It's all ugly badness. Christmas candy did not bother me at all.  Easter crap?  Whole 'nother story.  And you know why it is?  Because jellybeans are a nibble food; feasibly a food I could nibble while watching Cesar Millan that would last awhile.  It's a vicious cycle.

So what do you snack on?  What is your nibble food?

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No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle. ~Winston Churchill

So today was the first lesson and not only did I ride, but the horse also took me for a jog (meaning he did more than walk) and the amazing thing was that I stayed in the saddle and here it is 6:48 pm and I have no broken bones!

The scariest part for me was getting on and off because Friendly is big.  He is also old (24) and very sweet but I feel a kabillion miles from the ground when I am on him!  So I  need to work out gracefully getting off the horse without having either foot in a stirrup, which is a challenge.  Because Kat was there (the trainer) and Friendly is so easy, I could keep my left foot in the stirrup to dismount, but usually for safety purposes, you would not keep either foot in the stirrup. 

I also got to groom him and lead him back to his stall; all way cool.  I cannot begin to explain how excited and empowered I felt riding him!  It was amazing!

Okay, I'm feeling a little crummy tonight, so I'm outta here.  Oh and that is not me in the picture!  Just some random chick from the internets!