The beginning

Here's the first post for this blog.

An ending, a beginning

There's no way to indulge a comfortable nervous breakdown if the neighbors are all privy to every warped thought that crosses my page. I doubt blogging was ever meant to be a performance art where your entries are timely matched with "hope you feel better soon" cookies......... uh, thanks for the cookies.

I tried to stop writing...... can't.

I tried diluting it a bit; soften it out....... find it grossly unsatisfying.

The year has been many things; painful to say the least, but not in vain. I've been so grateful for this venting medium; grateful for all of you, your support and prayers. God has been so kind in sparing my family. Thank you for seeing us through the miracle.

So, my loves, I guess this is where I get off. It has been a thrilling, white knuckle ride, but good things do end at some point; this being as good a point as I can find.

God bless,
Brenda


P.S. I suppose, that if you were not a neighbor or relative, I would consider inviting you to my new, private blog(requests can be submitted to bbfranson@mac.com). After all, what's the fun of blogging if no one is there to catch the spew.

So, we're home, surrounded by the big, blue IKEA bags of clothes and stuff we had at Jan's house. There are things that need to be addressed immediately, but the general scream of the situation is distracting to the point of insanity.

This all reminds me of being little, when we would come home from camping with the whole family. It would take a week to put everything away. I should call my mother. She would empathize.

We're home

We are so grateful the house and yard is in fabulous shape. Super thanks to all our wonderful neighbors. I plan on never moving. I love it here.

So grateful to be home, although something seems to have died in our house while we were gone. I opened the windows hoping it is just stale air.

I'm a tad overwhelmed with all the getting back to normal life. I may spend the rest of the week with my head in the pillows. I find if you anticipate and embrace the insanity, it goes away much faster. There's less guilt when you plan on being dysfunctional.

Emalee is at Kathy's with her kids till the 4th of July, so there will be plenty of cousin fun to entertain JA and C while I unpack and sort things out.

And you live in Nevada because.............

We drove hundreds of miles through the salt flats with little relief. I guess there was that shack covered hole for the truckers who didn't want to pee off the side of their rig, but I highly discourage drinking 20 ounces of anything before trekking to Elko.

So, all of Nevada rated between toe jam and bellybutton lint until Katie and Ric took us up the canyon behind their house, where it turned into a Yosemite National Park, only unspoiled by all the traffic. Suddenly, I wanted to live there, next to the Ruby Mountains, and pan for gold; an improvement over my visions of ending up as bleached bones on the desert. The enhanced perspective transformed the return desert to an art palette. Exquisite.

Katie and Ric will bring the girls back to Idaho on their way to the Hammer family reunion. Dawn and Mark are taking JA and C to John and Kathy's on their way to Canada. We are looking forward to our dr appointment tomorrow, quite hopeful for a discharge from Utah in general. I can't hardly wait to be a real family in our real, messy house, again.

Nice party with all the Mawhinneys. Great people. Great fun.

It was a fabulous day; visiting, eating, swimming, eating, visiting......... I'm grateful Sam and Jeff came for the weekend. The kids played quite well and are exhausted.

Partied out

Her little body couldn't hold any more of the tension. It spilled over in crocodile tears lasting a good half hour. I held her till she found her smile and skipped away.

The summer is filling out for the kids. The girls still have a 10 day stint at my sister's house in Nevada. There's a tentative cousin fishing trip, and then helping Grandpa build at the cabin for John August. Charlotte will be here with us, to keep us laughing, but if she doesn't hold up, I may send her to Kathy's where Dawn's girls are staying.

The kids are all having a great time, but they're tired, and want to go home. Who can blame them for craving a routine and their own messes. Jan and Bill's house has been a party, but I think everyone's a bit partied out. Too bad it's only half over. I hope they can hold out for today's agenda: Sam visiting with her family from Colorado, lunch, swimming, dinner. We'll see.

"I can't eat papaya. It smells like farts.............. it tastes like farts, too."

My experience is lacking in this area. I've decided not to pursue the conversation, but will file it away with the bijillion other foods he will not eat. It's fortunate to find out these things ahead of time, as opposed to at the dinner table. Not that I had planned on serving it anytime soon, it's just good information.

We are running to a store downtown to purchase ink for Scott's printer. It makes me so happy to see him alive and excited about projects.

The kids are still in pajamas watching movies. It is a vacation; let them enjoy. I think I will set a bit of food out and let them graze while we're gone, but take Charlotte with us. We'll do a few token jobs to keep them out of trouble when we get back.

There's not anything more satisfying than reading to your 4 year old till she falls asleep in the crook of your arm. I'm so grateful to have the children here. What a joy to have them close.

Scott's well, but tires easily; no complaints whatsoever. He has three book dummies almost ready to send out and is excited. Whew, I thought he had gone forever, but he's back...... he's really back.

I wanted to show our surgeon that his strenuous efforts to develop the cholangiocarcinoma protocol were not wasted, so I took the kids with us to clinic, this afternoon. I also wanted to give the whole transplant team a sense of what they have saved. I'm grateful for all their hard work....... and it was fun to show the kids off; they were adorable.

a rat

The kids are back in Springville; we will pick them up tomorrow night after the children's literature conference. Till then, I am left to leisure and contemplate the what now's that have been so long denied. It's a pleasant place to be.

I am not entirely left to my own devices. I did mow the lawn, and run an errand for Jan so as to be not a total waste of skin.

Jan and Bill's backyard menagerie is now complete; they have a dancing rat. Seriously, it chases the quail, rolls around the grass, jumps around the bushes; all the while aware that you are nearby watching it. It borders the realm of adorable, but Bill is not impressed; a rat is a rat.

marvelous

It's more fun to write if you have angst. There's joy in putting down and leaving it there forever; a monument to pain.

Unfortunately, I do not have any frustration whatsoever at this moment. This blog might be boring from now on. The soap opera you have so faithfully attended may have just fizzled out into the contentments.

We just spent a heavenly weekend with the kids. It was simply wonderful; marvelous, really......... marvelous.

worrying over cupcakes

On Friday, June 13, 2008, at 01:06AM Sam wrote:

hi brenda,

my insomnia is back, but now i'm not worrying about scott! i've always wanted to go to the food show --how fun! i can't believe that scott is already out and about wandering through the food show! amazing! how are you doing with your ptd? are the kids bringing you back to 'normal' --or the new version of normal?

i'm now worrying whether i should take 84 cupcakes or a big sheet cake (or two) to ms. mayer's wedding shower. ms. mayer is the kindergarten teacher and our current nanny (fabulous) --they've invited all of the kids (and parents) from the last 2 years. either way, I'll order the cake/cupcakes, but i may have to get the cake from cosco, which will require a special trip (no one else seems to have rosebud cakes -if needed, see jan for a definition...). cupcakes will likely cost more and be difficult to move, but are easier to serve, especially for almost 1st graders, and don't require plates and forks? i wonder how much a dozen cupcakes costs or even 7 dozen cupcakes... cupcakes always remind me of grandma franson --chocolate. yummm.

at least the wedding shower isn't at my house --i wouldn't sleep for a month!

time for a glass of milk (sans cupcake, unfortunately) and 2 aspirin.

hugs,

sam
-------------
Hi Sam,
I am doing well. Scott is doing fabulous, although dealing with a few medication side effects. It's nothing that can be helped, but hopefully will go away as they reduce the anti rejection drugs.

I think it a good sign that you are worrying over cupcakes. It tells me everything else is pretty close to being OK, or else you'd be worrying about that.

Once, I told my friend that I was glad she was complaining about the neighbor's dog, because that meant her marriage was doing fine. I'm not, perhaps, the most tactful person in the world, because we haven't talked much since. Perhaps, I owe her an apology.

Anyway, I'm not saying you are complaining. I'm just saying it's natural to concentrate on the most pressing issue, and I'm a bit jealous that my most pressing issue isn't transporting cupcakes.

Isn't there another mother going that could help with that? What about Ms. Mayer's mother? I don't think they'd travel well on the roof, but maybe. Hmmmmmm........

Things must be fine here, too, or else I wouldn't be thinking about it. Yes, things are actually going quite well. I think I better try harder to enjoy it. I never know when it will get jerked away. I definitely need to switch to enjoy mode.

loves,
b

breaded chicken

You can only eat so much breaded chicken, but the food show was great fun for everyone. Scott tuckered after just the first lap, which was fine; we were all stuffed, anyway.

The kids went on with John and Kathy to the Bean Museum. I'm not sure exactly what that is, but hope they were entertained.

I don't have to worry much. The kids have always been easily entertained. Their favorite vacation stop used to be the Blackfoot rest area. We'd use the bathroom, eat snacks, roll down the hill. They were so easy to please; it was often their favorite part of the trip.

This whole last year has been a trip. I feel as though I've lost a year, but gained so much. I wonder what the kids will take away from it; what they consider to be their favorite part; what do they think will happen now?

knock on the woods

Disbelieving, we stood over the flailing boy at our feet. I should've anticipated this; him testing the waters. I wonder if it's his way of asserting, "You've been gone so long. Are the old limits still there? Where do I stand in all this? Do you still love me?" I'm not as irritated, frustrated really, by his tantrum if I think of it in this way, but it also firms me up. I have to switch gears; remember how to be a constant; how to be the mother of a ten year old.

So, in the course of things, we meet other people who have been recently transplanted, beating the same path through the clinic and lab appointments. For some, it seems a contest to prove their journey to have been the most miserable, but everyone wants to know how sick the other person was before they managed to get transplanted; how long they had to wait; how they are recovering. We feel blessed even without the terms of relativity, but it doesn't take much effort to realize how extremely fortunate we are; a year becomes nicer compared to the 4 that man waited, and Scott's recovery, a miraculous cakewalk....... knocking on the woods, because we are not out of them, yet.

It's nice having the kids nearby. I'm grateful to John and Kathy for bringing them. Scott tires quickly, but if we do a little bit everyday I think it will be a pleasant summer. Yesterday, we all went to the "This is The Place" park, followed by dinner at Jan's house. We'll visit them after clinic this afternoon, and meet tomorrow for more activities.

Uh......

I consider it either a very brave, or a very stupid man to say, "You really need some new jeans."
Why? Do these make me look fat?
"Uhhhhh......."

It's true, I will never be mistaken for a fashion diva, or a famous model. I think the best I could hope for, realistically, is the before picture; not that I'm THAT ugly, but I am that normal. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Bill purchased an Indiana Jones lego set for Scott. Between that and the orange creamies, Scott's thrilled.

I'm a bit restless; just waiting; not sure what to do without a crisis. Bill must have sensed this. He showed me how the lawn mower works, and gave me some fixit jobs. At least, things will be busy with the kids here; the summer should fly fast enough, and I guess I do need to go shopping.

"I really don't like jeans with the lines going down."
You mean like the ones I've worn exclusively for two years, now?
"Uhhhhh.........."

I Feel Good. Oh I Feel So Good!

I am having a hard time expressing how good I feel. I hope the attached image will help. The left side of the image was taken just before surgery on May 25 and the right side of the image was taken on the morning of May 27.

Thank you to all who have blessed our family over this past year. I will always be grateful to my donor family for the gift of life that they gave in a time of such great personal sorrow.

up, and up, and up

"C! You're supposed to tell grandpa when that happens!" There were other scuffling noises, but I picked up that much over the phone.
So, why is grandma yelling, C?
"Oh, it's just the toilet. The water keeps going up, and up, and up. I don't know why it does that."

The kids are doing fine. I'm sure John and Kathy have it all under control. I can't hardly wait to see them this week.

Scott walked over a mile this afternoon. He's shocked at how good he feels; tires quickly, but feels wonderful. He's felt fatigued for so long; can't wait to see what life holds from here on out.

There's an excitement and light I've not seen in him before; overwhelming; a miracle, really. Things just keep looking up, and up, and up.......... I'm a bit nervous that, perhaps, we're being primed for a plunge, but truly, the tank always fills after the flush. Who am I to complain if the blessings send it to overflowing?

terms of relativity

I'm not mocking anyone, really, but I've heard the gist of this hundreds of times:
"..... and then I just think, at least we're not the Franson's, and all my problems get very small. It's so inspiring, thank you."

I guess I tend to do the same thing; think in terms of relativity. I need to be grateful for the problems I have; it could be worse.

See? Look over there. That's worse. I feel so much better.

Seriously, I didn't choose this gig. I didn't work it out. The whole thing has been completely out of my control. Thank the heavens my family has been left intact; that it wasn't you. But, please, don't thank me for having been the worst case scenario to help you feel better. I'm the one thinking, though not maliciously,
"We're all mortal; everybody gets their share........
Just wait; you'll get yours."

Besides, we are not even close to being a worst case scenario. We just found out that Scott's old liver, albeit black/green, and huge, was cancer free......... cancer free. I can't hardly believe it; we're so blessed.

a titch

unresolvable ------ Ignore Learn Edit...

Things are a tad rocky at the very moment. Scott's in a tight bit of pain, but I'm confident that with enough drugs he will once again be a happy camper. Sleep, apparently, is still an issue; since we are not doing anything but waiting for Scott to heal, it shouldn't be a big deal....... 'shouldn't' being the operative word.

I am struggling with gearing out of crisis mode; everything feels like the end of the world, but nothing is really wrong...... at least not with Scott. I need to be careful not to create a crisis to match how I feel, but rather be at peace with the moment; a tough task for someone who has spent the last year anticipating the next crisis. I may not accomplish much, today, but I am working.

titch bitch tit-ch tithe stitch pitch itch ditch witch hitch twitch ------ Ignore Learn Edit...

Anyway, all's well with just a titch of hell, but it's still much preferred over what it's been.

Ravaged

"....and when I woke up, I felt ravaged."
That's exactly what he told the dietitian, but I'm pretty sure he meant ravenous, or famished; since nothing of that sort has gone on at my house for a long time.

Scott being able to taste what he eats, and eat without being nauseous, is as huge a blessing as having the pain under control so he can sleep; what grand luxuries after a year without. He's so grateful, so amazed. It's quite fun to just watch him enjoy every little thing. I lack nothing by the way of entertainment.

If there's any place that Scott needs his taste, it is at Jan's house. She's such a great cook; her egg rolls mmmmmm......... That was a great birthday/re-birthday party, thank you. We have loved it here, thank you.

PTD

I'm not crazy. I was feeling crazy, but figured it out: I have post-transplant depression. Post-transplant depression feels exactly like postpartum depression, minus the third day engorgement. I'm so very grateful not to be lactating, but the fatigue is exactly the same; it doesn't matter how much I sleep, I'm still exhausted; noise is amplified; my head hurts; I'd love to just toss the man that kept me up all night out the window.

Once I recognize it for what it is, I can deal with it; stop/drop/roll until it goes away. It always goes away..............

at least I hope it will; after all, this is my first time with PTD...............

please, Lord, let it be the only time with PTD.

It was great fun to go to clinic. Gone are the, "Sucks to be you.", visits; everyone's thrilled to see Scott doing so well. They increased his pain meds; hopefully, we'll get a better grip on that party.

M is at girl's camp. She was so excited to go, she made Kathy drive her to the church early, expecting to be left alone to wait. I would imagine she's well entertained.

I've been talking to N on the phone. She doesn't want Scott's surgical staples as a souvenir; she wants a pet. I told her cats and dogs are out of the question with Scott's transplant (not entirely the truth, but......), so she's exploring the fish tank with bubbles option to go with her frog........ we'll see.

JA just sobs when I talk with him on the phone. My first instinct is to pull him down here with me, but there's no way I can handle anything more than the current bare minimum. Perhaps, a change of scenery would help...... we'll see about that, also.

C is C. She is playing at Malia's, tomorrow. She's pretty easy going; it doesn't take much to keep her happy.

All in all, I think the kids have done pretty well considering the chaos of the last year. I am saving up and looking for a group discount for their therapy. There's been plenty of fuel to warrant it.

I wonder if anyone specializes in post-transplant trauma, PTT.

I wonder if the grandparents will need to get in on those sessions.

a new man

Still Scott, but definitely different. He just told me he might take JA fly fishing. Under any other circumstance, I would call 911, "My husband has been possessed by aliens!", because that is so far from his normal.

It's like watching a puppy; I almost expect him to start looking for his tail. Alas, he bounced around the yard a little too hard, and is hurting a terrible lot. He can't contain his joy at feeling wonderful, but I hope he can find a happy medium for healing. Good grief! He just had a liver transplant last week.

He feels like a new man.

I like it.

this wonderful feeling

So, we made it to Jan and Bill's house. I had anticipated this wonderful feeling upon bringing Scott home, but no. I swear, I must have been beaten with an ugly stick, and left for dead. Thrashed and trashed; it's time to shut down.

At least Scott looks and feels great. I'm positive he will be watching movies with Bill, tonight. That's fabulous.

I'm going to bed. Ok, I'll sing praises, and then go to bed.

first week re-birthday

We went to lunch at the Point atop the Huntsman Cancer Clinic to celebrate Scott's first week re-birthday. It was excellent. I love that Scott's appetite is back; he can taste, again; which actually makes the hospital food much worse.

I can't post the pictures Kari took while Scott was in the SICU; first glance sent my head to my knees. I knew I had been comforted, but I hadn't realized how much the Lord had buffered me from the whole experience. It's clearly not something I would normally have been able to handle on my own.

The pictures really are valuable documentation, though. Even the surgeon wants copies of before and after to show other patients what they can expect, but it's not a ride I wish to relive any time soon. Perhaps, I'll be able to handle it after my emotions crawl out of the fetal position.

.....................

Dr Hutson came. We're close to leaving. Scott is practically dancing, he's so giddy. Still waiting for pharmacy and nurse coordinator.

Tomorrow or bust

No discharge; bummer. I can't see how they possibly can keep him, he's doing so well. I guess we still need to go over medications, limitations, contraindications, blah, blah, blah...............

The swelling of various private appendages has gone down a bit, thank goodness. Between that and having all the tubes out, he's pacing much more confidently through the halls.

Fortunately, it also makes it easier to get to the bathroom, which is often since they started the diuretic. They must be expecting a lot of fluid since they have put three urinals by the toilet. Perhaps, they want him to shoot for a hospital record; longest pee.

Overall, a pleasant day; fun visitors, good food (thanks, Julie), a nice nap. I'm exhausted, but excited for tomorrow.............. Oh, tomorrow or bust.

Special thanks for all the fasting and prayers.

Holy Cow!

"She's been miserable. She had 10 surgeries in 2005 to keep her from going blind. Last year she had a kidney transplant. How sick was your husband?" Her daughter had received the pancreas. We met in the hall.

He was dying.

He really was dying, and now........ wow. The contrast is so extreme, the last year feels like a book I might have read in high school; just wisps; I can't hardly remember it. To think he might be discharged, today. Holy Cow!

the obituary

It's the only one that fit the description they gave us; a young male, local. The obituary says he died on Sunday from injuries sustained from a motorcycle accident. His funeral was yesterday. So curious, so grateful; I wanted to go, but felt it would be grossly inappropriate.

We will wait. We will write the letter, and submit it through the psycho-social worker(her title seems so appropriate). I hope they respond. I hope.................. I don't know. I just want them to know the gift was not wasted; we're deeply aware of their loss, and grateful.

The extreme range and intensity of emotions makes it difficult to breathe, sometimes. I would eat, but the hospital chicken tastes like cardboard. I would go to Julie's but even little variations off the beaten paths are uncomfortable. It's easier just to sit here and watch Scott; find sweet contentment in that he breathes.

Hurrah!

I think the hospital is the only place where dozens of people are thrilled to hurrahs for your first post-surgical bowel movement. Hurrah!

It might be because the chest tube was yanked a bit and disconnected (NOT my fault this time, thank you), but the air pocket is even bigger, now, and they can't take the tube out yet. Were it not for that, and the other sensitive tether, he'd be running laps.

Scott loves visitors, by the way, but it's a good idea to call, first; especially during the day. I can't believe how busy they keep him. Scott was thrilled to see Brad. Jan and Bill, and his parents dropped by; love them all so much.

I'm a bit kidsick; miss the loves and hugs; can't wait to see them. John and Kathy plan to bring them June 11th; almost two weeks; don't know if I can last that long.

Side note: Scott didn't have a Whipple, after all. It was a Roux-En-Y. Similar to gastric bypass surgery, they hook small intestine to the new liver, as opposed to hooking intestines up to his stomach. Had it been for me, I might have asked for a 2-for-1 deal, but Scott is so thin, they'd have just laughed at us.

Mooshy

It's not that I'm not excited to see Scott; I'm just wondering if I didn't accidentally lay down on a train track instead of my bed. Didn't even hear the choo choo, I slept so solid; no blood, just tired and mooshy.

By the way, Scott has enjoyed all the comments on the blog, and emails. He just smiles and feels loved. Thank you.

God Bless our donor family

That man's wife could not have been Scott's second for transplant. She is a different blood type. Her husband must not have understood; with her being a Status 1, they would have had no choice but to give it to her, had the liver been compatible. I feel a bit of relief, but still pained empathy. Scott's natural meld was only 18; abject misery. Her meld score is 55; unspeakable pain and suffering.

Scott has had several rubbernecking drs drop by, needing to see in order to believe. His recovery is remarkable since not only did he have a liver transplant, but a Whipple procedure as well; the two most risky abdominal surgeries at the same time. He looks so good; walking around and around the unit.

With Scott doing miraculously well, he was moved to the intermediate care unit, today. I like this unit; a well trained and organized staff; bigger rooms with a couch and reclining chairs; much quieter. I would like to keep Scott there as long as possible; their focus seems sharply concerned about advocating on their patients' behalf.

It will be Fast Sunday this coming weekend. I would like to invite everyone to join us in a Fast of Thanksgiving; a celebration to praise God for the overwhelming mercies poured out on our family.

With our deepest gratitude, we must also thank God for our donor family; fast and pray they will have blankets of peace and comfort wrapped around their heavy hearts. I feel this is the least we can do; we owe them so very much. By our faith, angels will attend them as they have over my family this last year. Please, God bless them a million times over.

A white man

The dr said he has never seen the liver enzymes drop so fast. Scott's bilirubin is down to 1.2; almost perfect. They knew the liver would be good, and are thrilled to find it even pristine.

I don't quite understand what it has to do with requiring a chest tube, but they say it's because the radiation fused his old liver to the diaphragm and major vessels. ??????? I have to trust that they know what they are doing. The tube stays till tomorrow, but it is very painful all the way up his back, right under his ribs.

It's a harder day. Scott's not able to deal with all the different teams of drs, the pain, the procedures, leaking drains, his wife tripping on the catheter.............. a constant stream of overstimulation; unpleasant, to say the least.

All in all, I think he's endured the indignities of it quite well. Past caring, he could streak the halls showing off his little white buns without even flinching, the most major inhibition being that his mother might see.

Day two

I haven't seen Scott this giddy since the day we got married. I can't help but wonder if he isn't mostly high on steroids, but it has been a magnificent day. What a thrill to go from life support to walking around the unit in one day. It's a rush for me, and I'm not even on drugs. Heaven.

So, day three is supposed to be a rough one. If you compare it to having a baby, it's the day that your milk comes in, but I'm not worried; his eyes are bright, and he's excited to progress no matter what it takes. How wonderful to see the intensity switch to recovering, as opposed to pursuing the hallows of yellow death.

empathy, grief and gratitude

John and Kathy told me about the conversation and it reduced me to a rare public sob. I've had a good grip till now, but that was too much. In his 60's, he introduced himself after having overheard John on the phone. Apparently, his wife was second for Scott's transplant. She is here in the same ICU with 2-3 days to live if she does not get a liver. It evokes a conflicting mix of empathy, grief and gratitude........ I can handle a lot, but I can't handle that.

Scott is doing excellent; breathing; tubes coming out; pain a problem, but working with it; good spirits. I'm so very proud of him. He's happy and overcome with the miracle of it all.

a gift

My standard reply to, "How's Scott?" has been, "He's breathing.", but I can't even say that anymore. They tried to take him off the ventilator, but he requires so much pain medication, he's not breathing on his own. It's best that he's heavily sedated. I even prefer him that way for a while.

It was as if a warm blanket was put around my shoulders, and toasted me from the inside out. The feeling lasted for only a minute, but the imprint lasted; I've maintained a calm most of the day.

The feeling right before Scott was diagnosed with cancer was much stronger than this morning's, but definitely along that same line. It's a warning; a "Hold on to your panties; I'm in charge; it's going to be a rough ride." message from God. Most importantly, it's a strengthening; a "I love you, I'm here, it will work out." message; a precious gift before any crisis.

So, what to expect? Scott will likely be taken off the ventilator in the morning. He'll have to deal with pain, and heaven only knows what else is coming. I guess it doesn't matter if I know or not; we're strapped in tight for the ride, and there's no sense in jumping out now...... as if we have any choice.

first look

Just saw Scott; hooked up from most every orifice and several they created just for the occasion; bloaty; heavily sedated; color looks better; won't know for several days about the cancer, or if transplant successful; so far, so good.

Headed for lunch. Waiting..................

closing

They are closing. It will be several hours before we can see Scott in the ICU, but we are headed over to talk to the surgeon.

Thank you, thank you, Lord.

Three more hours

I threw open the windows to quiet rain, green trees, and song birds. It's a perfect room, but I can't help but wonder if someone in this hotel gathers smug joy from the fact that I conditioned my hands and lotioned my hair. Shiny.

All's going well; three more hours.

The good go

Pffft...... so much to be grateful for.

They're ready to put in the new liver. Scott's doing fine. It will be another 4-5 hours...........

Thank you, thank you, Lord.

a long day done

I can't do it. I can't blog the joke Stan told me; my mother reads my blog. Just know that I smiled all night about it, even though I couldn't tell it to Scott's mother, either. Maybe later.

They just took Scott back for transplant. It's a long 10-15 hour surgery. I wonder if the drs trade off and take naps. Pray for them.

Scott's parents and Kari also have a room here at the Guesthouse Inn. What a relief to have them in a more comfortable place than the surgical waiting room. It's priceless to have a private place to fall apart and pray.

By the way, thanks for all the prayers on our behalf, and especially the prayers for our donor family. Apparently, this one donor is giving precious, new life to over 6 people, tonight.

I'm fried with an adrenaline overload. Surely, the intensity of this gig has shaved years off my life and added them to my hiney.

Heaven help us all get through these excruciatingly long days, and the even longer nights.

contentment

I asked Nefi to come sit with Scott while I sleep for two reasons. First, I need someone to advocate on his behalf since he has gone loopy on the IV pain meds. Second, I need him to be able to talk to someone that could handle discussing the whole, "I could die, today." issue; someone he doesn't feel the need to protect.

I do have to say, I have never loved that man as much as I do right now.

Dr Schwartz gave him the two, "If I find cancer" scenarios. He could leave his damaged liver in and Scott probably wouldn't survive the surgery, or, he could go ahead with the transplant where Scott would be on so many immunosuppressive drugs, the cancer would spread like wildfire. It would be anyone's guess how long, but it likely wouldn't buy him significant quality time.

I was not prepared for this discussion, and what Scott said to the dr next floored me. "The liver needs to go to someone who can use it for 40 years, not weeks. I don't want to die, but I also don't believe that this is the end. I will still have my family."

It took me half a chicken, a big bunch of tater tots, and a long nap to get a grip after that one, but I feel so blessed to be married to such a great man. He obviously doesn't have any pressing regrets, and loves me so much. It was a great gift to come to a solid understanding and have the opportunity to share our feelings. I really don't feel like he's going to die, but what a blessing to feel at peace with each other, and with God. It's an exquisite level of contentment I don't think I have ever had.

Anyway, I'm headed back up. The procurement team has not left yet, which means we are at least 6 hours out from transplant. It promises to be a long, long, long night.

OY!

There seems to be a decided lack of communication between the nurses and drs and surgical suites. You would think that by now they would know that it takes at least 6 hours from the time they go get the organ to the time that they can do the transplant. Now, if they haven't left yet to go get the organ, then it would only figure that 8am is not a viable surgical time; neither is 9am. In fact, if they don't even plan on going to get it until 2pm, it would make sense to let the wife sleep instead of sucking her energies out with misinformation. Or better yet, send for us at a decent time, rather than risk losing the patient altogether with a wife who drove the last third of the way down with her eyes crossed she was so tired.

Anyway, we are looking at tonight, late tonight for transplant. I am at the hotel to sleep. Scott is not doing great; just having had the "If I get in there and find the cancer has spread......" talk with the dr. OY!

The only thing they can tell us about the donor is that he/she is extremely young and a perfect size match for Scott. I'm praying for them, and it's kicking my hiney to think of how my family is being saved while another is being crushed.

Pfffft............ I really need to sleep.

hurry up and wait

He was bumped up on the surgery schedule, so instead of this afternoon, he's going for transplant this morning. It's a huge blessing; he feels absolutely awful; I can't imagine waiting all day. Well, we might still end up waiting all day with the way things tend to go around here, but there's hope.

I'm waiting with John and Kathy, and Kari and Mike. They came so we could all lose our minds together waiting; cause ya' know, it's just more fun when you lose it all together.

a second donor

A second donor has presented. We are headed down.

Thank God.

a crush

Nothing, literally, no thing has ever flattened me faster than being called 2nd for transplant. Today is no exception. I might would rather soak my feet in lemon juice after having my toenails ripped off. Crushing.

Scott has chosen an emotional flat line. I could hit his face with a 2x4 and he wouldn't flinch. It might be easier for him that way, but my meltdown would be more validated if he lost it, too. It's lonely being the only basket case.

I guess there still is a chance the #1 guy won't take it, but it's pretty slim. They are not even having us come down this time; just on call; yippeee, woo hoo, let's wait around to see if #1 dies before he can take it. Oy!

The day has not been a total bust. The kids and I had planted the garden before Salt Lake called. We visited Grandma and Grandpa Lovell's grave; ate lunch at Jan's; bought an ivy vine from Home Depot.

I traded a child with Jan for the night; JA stayed to play wii and with her boys, Marley came to play with my girls. It's a good trade; while I love the boy so very much, he's the one that requires that my energies be thoroughly sucked out before he can go to bed. There's just not any to spare, tonight. It's likely he'll feel more loved if he's not next to me.

Strawberry towers and Good Grit

I made strawberry towers over the ugly satellite poles in the back yard. Why there are two poles, I will never know, but I have high hopes of either having cascading strawberries, or letting them die when we go for transplant. I hope they die sooner than later.

The welcome distraction for the night was provided by Ursula. She was trolling through the neighborhood, looking for a connection to what used to be her normal life. I was the only person crazy enough to be working outside in the rain, so she stopped to say hi. She invited us to come swimming at the AmericInn where she and Mercedes are staying; I took the kids and we had a fabulous time.

Ursula is the new queen of the Good Grit Award. I am so proud of her for pressing forward with steady resolve and great faith. It will be three weeks, tomorrow, since she buried Rendell.

Do I look too good, today?

"Do I look too good, today? Will they will think that I am not sick enough to be on disability; that I am just milking the system?"
No, you do not look too good. Anyone who passes you will notice that you are an odd shade of puce and emaciated. It's quite safe to say that there is zero chance that anyone will think that you are faking it.

Scott informed me this morning that he was going to sit in on an illustration class, this afternoon. It was great to see him in a shirt and tie; excited to see students and colleagues. I think he had a great time. He seems much happier.

For Scott, not working is one of the hardest blows of this gig; he's such a passionate teacher. I can't hardly wait until he goes back......... not that it's been entirely unpleasant to be with him 24/7/365, under extreme stress, without much of a break. Our relationship has weathered it quite well, but......... I wouldn't really recommend it to anyone.

I spent a chunk of the day throwing away Angela's junk. She has sold her house and is moving into a travel trailer to explore the world. I'm hoping she will keep in touch. I don't know what I'd do without her friendship.

My gut is restless. It feels a bit like the warnings I used to get before something really big, but it might be my brains eating themselves, again. I'm so burned out, it's hard to tell the difference, anymore.

rain

It's been a nice rain. I prayed it here, because I didn't want to water my lawn. That might be like praying that the sun would rise, and feeling somewhat responsible for it being morning.

I swear, Scott is dying. Everyday, he is just a little more dead. He's been hovering for so long there at death's door, and sometimes, it's all I can do not to kick him the rest of the way in.

I wonder if prayer really isn't a way to tell the Lord what we want; but more of a way to express gratitude, and discover what the Lord wants for us. Surely, He, knowing everything, would not steer us wrong. Granted, I have no idea what he's thinking with this transplant deal. I risk being struck by lightning doubting His wisdom; asking questions like, "Are you sure? Really. Are you really, really sure this is what you intended?" The dilemma is such that it might not be a good idea to go outside with the rain and all. I'm a high risk doubter, although I think that lightening strike might be a good way to go.

As good as it can get

I kept busy with things outside of my home territory: helping Angela move, helping Bev unload her truck, watching N's presentation at school, taking Scott to vote on the school bond, JA to a dr appointment............... and come home, and deal with dinner, and homework, and bedtime, and laundry. Overall, it was another fair day. Since everyone is breathing and went to bed feeling loved, it might even chalk up as a good day; as good as it can get, I guess.

A fine day

If the current rule continues, I will be twice as ugly in ten years; wishing I looked as good as I did right now. I'd better be grateful for the current Mahana, and hope it doesn't double sooner.

It's been a fine day. Scott weeded part of the huge flower bed in back and planted some flowers. He even walked up Cress Creek with us, tonight, for family home evening.

my address

I can tell, who from church, reads my blog by what they say. Cindy usually says, "How are you doing, today?" today being the operative word, which I love, but offered, "I love you." with sincere hugs for support this afternoon. It's a relief not to have to explain things.

By the same token, when Scott offered my address to the bishop, who had pulled us aside for an update, I couldn't handle giving it out to anyone else. I'm almost....... no, I really am more comfortable allowing complete strangers read my vulnerabilities. They won't be won't be telling me, "Wow, you look good for someone whose brains have leaked out." Not that anyone has ever said that; I just feel..... I don't know.

This blog is a lot more personal than I had originally intended. Perhaps, because it is the only thing I have control over, I can't seem to stop. Does that mean I don't have control over it?

Anyway, Scott had a decent day. He went to all 3 hours of church and to dinner at his mother's house. The last two days, he has slept all but a few hours, when I insisted that he eat. It's nice to see the yellow of his eyes, again.

normalish

"I probably didn't tell you this, but I decided that Scott could have my liver. I thought about it a long time before I told Eunice; someone has since told me they would never kill a person to get their organs."

R. Jack Layton is a retired pilot who tested top secret planes, such as the Blackbird, for the CIA during the Cold War era. He is likely the fastest man in the world, having cruised routinely at 3 1/2 times the speed of sound, reaching sometimes up to almost 4 times the speed of sound; 20 miles up in the atmosphere. It is a cruel irony that he now suffers from Parkinson's disease; wheelchair bound and shriveling.

Anyway, he's in our ward. His wife is his equal in personality and achievements. It's great fun to visit them, and since N needed to do an interview for a school assignment, I was more than happy to take her.

"I'm disappointed; lived a good life; wish the Lord would just take me. They could put me on a table next to Scott and give him my liver."

Wow. It took a bit to assimilate what he had said, gather my jaw off the floor, and regain my composure. What do you say to something so incredibly amazing? I'm still floored.

We all had good reasons for not sending them on the father/son camp out, but needed a good substitute activity to appease the little men. A perfect night for tinfoil dinners, the kids played with the parachute; Scott helped with the fire and stayed for most of the party. How wonderful to have the neighbors over to eat and laugh; a nice change of mode, doing something normalish.

breathe

"And how are you making it in your great trial." She had hugged me, but held fast to my forearms.
Sometimes, it's all I can do to breathe.

There's no reason to lie to Aunt Faye. After standing by Uncle Norman all these years through so much, and now, standing beside his casket to greet a slivered fraction of the people he touched; she knows exactly what I'm going through, only a million times more. We've hardly spoken, but I swear, these kind of experiences can turn strangers into soul sisters.

Norman was always so incredibly grateful and making the best of every little moment. He'll be missed.

C's poem of the day was dedicated to Scott, and goes as follows:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Bananas are yellow,
and so are you.

"Do ya' like it? Huh, Dad?"

love

I love my children, I really do, but sometimes I wonder if I might love the bus driver just a teensy bit more.

lunch

Scott ate lunch which makes it official; he is not going in to get his drain adjusted, today. He says he isn't having pain; I guess we will have to go home. I'm easy to the point of, "Whatever makes you happy, dear." I am feeling morbidly optimistic with the beautiful, outdoorsy weather; hoping not to be gone very long.

Blokus

"You won't play because you know I'll beat your socks off." It was said in jest, but he was definitely asking for it.

My favorite story about Gary is when they were camping; he storms into the tent, and throws the tube of vaginal cream;
"THAT.... IS NOT........ TOOTHPASTE!"

Adele was too tired. Scott retreated with an experienced, "Not with her, I'm not." shake of his head. Lacking enough players, we each chose two colors.

I'm so frustrated; they can't see Scott at interventional radiology until late Tuesday afternoon to adjust the drain to a more comfortable position. He's fine as long as he's laying down, but he can't spend the next however-long-it-takes-in-hell-to-get-a-transplant in bed. It's going to be a medicinal trick just to get him back to the hospital; and to have to wait...........

I had planned on being home to see JA open the huge, superclearanced, Batman lego set I found for his birthday. Between that and everything else, I have a great deal of tearful angst; decimating someone's inflated, yet durable ego with a harmless game of Blokus is, by far, the least destructive outlet I can find.

The scenic route

They switched out the drain, he wasn't having pain, we left the hospital, went to IKEA, ran into his mother and sisters there, visited my sister, started home, and then came back thinking it would be a good idea to be closer to the hospital. He was in so much pain.

I have an extensive arsenal of narcotics; nothing was working. I'm grateful we could come back to Adele's and lay the man down. Gary gave him a blessing; within minutes he was pain free and went to sleep.

All in all, I guess it was a better day than I had expected. Really, I like days where you get 1/3 of the way home and have to come back. It's the scenic route.

What's purgatory?

"So, what's purgatory, Mom?"

He was reading over my shoulder.

It's sitting with you, while you scream about doing homework. It generally refers to hell.

gasp.......... "Yeah, mom. This is purgatory."

Scott and I came down, tonight. We love it here at the Garcia's. There's always something to laugh about, and they feed us great food no matter what the hour. Thank you.

Scott's scheduled to have his drain changed out in the morning. Plugged and painful, we don't have any choice. Always an expletive producing experience for everyone, including the drs; it's a darker definition for purgatory I had hoped never to see again.

.....................my thoughts exactly.

Thank you, Lord

"Hey! I came to visit Scott. Is he around? Can he visit?"
Uh, no, I'm sorry. He's not feeling very well.

It was powerful reinforcement that God loves me.

"I was passing by. Scott's been on my mind for weeks. I've been really busy; trying to become a senator; running all over the state. Just wanted to let him know that he's in my prayers all the time."
Wow. Thank you. How's your family?

I read through most of the night; needing an escape; pretty much asking for trouble; awoke with my most repellingly indecent Mahana commanding the day, but felt strongly compelled to shower and get dressed before I went back to bed.

"Fine. We're all fine. Yeah, Scott's solid celestial material; I just hope he doesn't get there too soon......... heh heh."
Uh, thank you. I'll let him know you stopped by.

It was an odd, but kind gesture. I'm just so grateful the natural Mahanas were reigned in. Thank you, Lord.

Oh! I totally forgot Scott's parents picked up Emalee at the airport and are coming........ any minute even. Oh! I'm so grateful I showered.

I didn't burn the bridge just in case, but I told Dr Z I wasn't coming back. Really, what can he do that a blog can't do even better? Sure, there's the prescription issue, but my gynecologist can use a pen just fine, and he only wants to see me once a year. Besides, why not get all your medical vulnerabilities over with in one fell swoop? Really.

We went to lunch for our anniversary. Not incredibly romantic, but Scott ate well; that in itself is enough to thrill me these days.

today

"They're my buddies, mom."
We'd spent a good 20 minutes collecting rollie-pollie bugs. Some had not tolerated her loves very well and were no longer rolling.
"Let's take them to Barett's house and feed them to the chickens."
So, we did.

Continuing on the murderous theme, I sprayed weeds; quack grass in my garden spot.

Wanting to complete my list of 101 ways to drive yourself crazy, I went to the middle school band concert with the girls. It wasn't that bad. I just don't feel like talking to anyone.

I think Scott might have had a fair day. For some strange reason, he stayed far away; perhaps, out a sense of self-preservation.

I am, at this very moment, considering hiring an exorcist for my son. With a field trip at risk, he has 5 pages of late homework, but has spent 7 hours in a possessed, self-imposed purgatory. The only thing working for him is to race the timer; three problems in three minutes. He keeps asking me to pull him and do homeschool.
Pfffft.......... because this has been so much fun?

fortune

I would do anything to get Scott to eat; even eat at Fong's. The food was ok, but I'm not sure Scott will go again; his fortune cookie said something like, "You will receive a long awaited gift three months from this date." Oy!

It's terrible to take any kind of stock in fortune cookies, but I'm just superstitious enough to consider them. It definitely reflects my crazed desperation to find some sign that the tide is turning in our favor. In general, I feel crazy, but oddly fortunate.

Scott was able to help bathe and put the kids to bed. I've felt like a single parent for so long; I'm grateful for the support.

It was a struggle to get to church, but I'm grateful I made it. This last week left me empty and discouraged. I needed comfort, strength, and there it was; not so much in the sacrament meeting, but in taking the sacrament itself. It was not the usual hohum, watching kids pick their nose experience; but rather a desperately needed spiritual refueling; intimate, real, precious.

My family and extended family all fasted for Scott, today. I am ever so grateful for their faith as it would seem that mine has been torched to the ashes of exhaustion. My grandmother, especially, will be thrilled to know that we have felt their prayers and love.

Scott had a good day; not as good as yesterday, but much better than par. The kids are happy to be home, although they had a blast with cousins and sleepovers. I am headed to bed with the prayer that Scott will sleep, and that God will bless us, every one. Heaven knows we all need it.

Roman

"I graduated magnum cum laude. It said so on my diploma."
What does that mean?
"How am I supposed to know? I don't speak Roman."

Love ya', Renae.

Scott said the day felt like a vacation, and indeed it was. A day spent laughing; siblings and in-laws, cousins, food and games; a much needed gift. It's nice to come from a family where everyone is a party-in-a-box. Thank you, thank you.

We had to go for labs. I couldn't ignore the fact that he is dramatically weaker and more uncomfortable in spite of having gone for fluids, this morning. Drats! There doesn't seem to be an infection, so any word from SLC is going to be, "Liver failure stinks."

My mom mercifully came to get the kids. They will have more fun at the house there, anyway; Renae is back from Ecuador and visiting. She's a party-in-a-box kind of person, and almost always brings surprises.

"You're joking me, mom."
No. Really, babies come out of the mom's bum.
"Like an egg?"
That's a chicken, C.
"Oh........... but it would be all messy."
They just wipe it up, and hand it to the mom.
"You're kind of jokin'. Huh mom?"
I'm not joking.
"Soooooo, remember when I came out of your bum all cute and happy?"
Yes, but that's not something we talk about with other people. It's private.
"Oh, yeah...... Remember, I'm going to marry Caleb? He's a boy."
Well, remember we don't really worry about getting married until after college?
"Oh, yeah................ " and she runs off, repeatedly singing the word "privacy".

I'm wondering how long it will take for her to get that story out. Not long, is my guess.

I pay $10 to every child that is cavity free. It is well worth the incentive, but only N and C managed to hit pay dirt this round.

JA's cavities are visible, but on baby teeth slated to fall out. I'm thinking the tooth fairy might pay only half for teeth with big holes in them.

Poor M. Although the rest of her face turned to stone, the dentist was unable to properly deaden her tooth. He's been our favorite, most skilled dentist; they're so terribly hard to find; I don't know what went wrong. Anyway, it was awful, but if it motivates her to brush her teeth.......

Heavens, it's been 10 months since Scott has had enough concentration or soul to seriously read; a most painful loss, leaving his brain to eat itself instead of a book. Alas, the damage has not been permanent; he is reading once more. Praise the Lord for such a generous gift in these dark times.

I put off saying my prayers as long as I possibly can, anymore, because I just don't know what to say. I'm having a harder time feeling grateful, as of late. And, what is there that I need, that I haven't pleaded for a million times, already. Is "ditto" is an acceptable prayer? The Lord sends bits of peace every now and then, so babbling must pass for something.

I've changed. It's not the twenty pounds, or the fact that I look ten years older. It's this rush of emotion I feel when someone shares that they or their loved one has cancer, particularly cholangiocarcinoma.

Empathy? Maybe, but the word feels commonly weak. Anxiety, concern, pain, love, admiration, respect, reverence...... it might be reverence; reverence and understanding. Whatever it is, it's deeply intense; an instant bond that wasn't there before all this happened; an ability to feel.

So, I had this impulse to work in the yard, but laid down until it went away. One advantage to giving yourself permission to do absolutely nothing is that whatever you do happen to get done becomes a bonus. Since I seem to get the same amount of work done no matter what the original expectation was; it's best to expect nil and feel good about maintaining the bare minimum.

Burned buns

My father ran across the old oil stove on the desert. It still had two, small, round marks where Uncle Milton, naked after a bath, had leaned back and burned the skin right off his buns. It's a fun story, to me, but Grandma still winces.

Anyway, this whole experience is sure to leave permanent marks, but I'd rather it not take too much more off Scott's buns. There wasn't really anything to spare, in the first place.

Leaving Scott at my mother's, the kids and I went up to Grandma's; Uncle Lloyd dropped by. We talked all about cows, cousins, and purgatory. It's amazing how seamlessly those subjects link together with Lloyd in the room.

illusions

We came home today. I couldn't justify not being the mother, or pretending to be the mother, if Scott is going to be fine and dandy. Sometimes, I wish he would just make up his mind.

We went to a magic show up at the college. I was bored, but I doubt any show, but one, would satisfy me.

The show I'm waiting for involves an untimely death, and a miraculous resurrection. It's a gruesome trick for which no one volunteers, not for either side. The risks and implications being so heavy, I doubt that even Houdini would have had the nerve to think it.

So we took the kids, who loved it all, and threw our own illusions out there: pretending to be fine; pretending to be stable; pretending to care. It's not a new act, and we are very good at it. It's feeling a bit limp and stale; which brings us back to, I'm waiting for a show that involves an..................

Scott slept most of the day. We did manage to run a few errands, and watch a movie with Jan and Bill. It was a relatively pleasant day.

We are planning to go home in the morning if the night goes well.

a solid damn

We went to our, "Stinks to wait for a transplant, buck up." appointment, today. They had reasons for why Scott is so uncomfortable, a few recommendations, no fixes, and no new liver. Apparently, liver failure is quite painful, and painful to watch. Here, I thought it was all the damn drain's fault, when it is just a solid damn.

In spite of being #1 on this area's list, Scott has been skipped several times by "status 1" persons. A "status 1" person is expected to die within the week, most likely on life support, and pulls the next available liver from the four state region.

I've known for almost 13 years that liver failure was part of the PSC package. To think, I was actually excited when they found the cancer at a treatable stage, because it looked like he would be able to skip all of this. I feel like such a fool having been so optimistic, and am frustrated that Scott might have to be on his literal death bed to receive a transplant.

Just a note: If you see my father, please, do not discuss this information with him. He is colorfully displeased with the duration and severity of this gig, as it is, and does not have a willing audience to spew upon.

The kids are doing very well. None of them wanted to talk to me for long, tonight, as they were watching,"Funniest Home Videos". They're obviously happy and content. I'm so grateful, and comforted to have our parents close to keep them; such a blessing, thank you, thank you.

a party

Well, he never did run a fever as I had anticipated. He must be throwing liver stones. Well, if that's the case, an infection is what comes next. So, we are in the right place; waiting for him to bottom out. He has an appointment in the morning with the hepatologist; always a party.

I'm grateful to be here at Jan and Bill's house. It's hard to be away from the kids, but easier to take care of Scott; a break from being everything to everybody.

Scott has been having more pain these last two days, and the drain is not behaving. I am dragging Scott to Utah, so when he gets really sick, tonight, I will be close to our er of choice.

An unexpected offer.

I giggled. It was the way she had said, "I know this is a really sensitive subject." but I couldn't bring myself to tell her I had already had that talk and figured it out pretty well. "I talked with my sister. A lady in her ward is dying. Now, what blood type is Scott? My sister says she would ask." Oh! and fall off my chair. I don't really think it's a good idea for someone to offer their neighbor's liver.

People just want to help. Scott is well loved by all, so for them to see him all green and sallow, makes everyone wrack their brains to find a cure to keep his liver, donate part of theirs, or lobby for someone else's(excuse me, if you're done with that........). They are so frustrated that there's nothing to be done in this situation, but wait for the Lord to deliver a liver.

"I can't believe how patient you're being with all this." Trust me, patience has nothing to do with it. Resignation, maybe, but not patience; as if there is an alternative to sucking it up, and waiting it out.

The kids are doing well except for the fact that N has a sinus/ear infection, and C has a barky cough. JA has another ISAT test in the morning. M has plenty of work with reports and whatnot of 7th grade. It's a warped normal life at my house, but the world keeps turning.

The neighbor girl circled us on a walk last week, "Is he still sick?" Yes. "Ok. Why is he green?" Well, he's sick. "But, why is he green?" Perhaps, she thought he had chosen that color over purple. We never did satisfy her with any of our answers.

Scott continues to breathe in spite of looking and feeling quite poor. It's my only demand........ the breathing, not the being miserable part.

The cousins played well at John and Kathy's. I am excited for the summer plans, and know the kids will have a great time.

Sunshine is leaving May 7th for an 18 month mission in Budapest, Hungary. She's carries the energy of 5 people and the testimony of 10, so I'm not worried about her one bit. We were all happy she and Stephanie came for dinner before shipping off. How can you not be happy with someone that comes to your house and cleans it?

It was a rare warm day. JA and I chipped the last winter glacier off the driveway as part of a half-hearted spring cleanup effort. I am hoping he will continue to pick projects we can work on together. He's does a thorough job, when so inclined, can be a joy to work with, and kicks my hiney playing HORSE off the hoop.

A crawling crawlspace

They are light brown, practically invisible; but M can see them. The darker, full grown, crunchy ones send her body into wracked sobs; these babies just drive her bonkers. She knows where there is one baby hobo spider, there are many, many baby hobo spiders.

I would put out more sticky traps, but these spiders are simply not worth the panic attacks. I need them gone, and since my love at home policy does not extend to arachnids, I am switching over to the offense. I have started to spray.

I'm so grateful my parents came over to help, Mom especially. We cleaned and sprayed in M room, and two storage rooms. Scott felt good enough to spray the outside foundation, concentrating on any areas where they might creep in. I will continue, room by room, treating all the baseboards until the whole house is fumigated, and complete the party with a bug bomb to the crawlspace. Perhaps, it is a good outlet for my destructive energies, but it does feel a bit murderous.

I wonder, do spiders have livers?

Scott feels best, lately, when he is walking. He walked much of the morning, but still had a rough afternoon. I'm hoping for a quiet night.

Karilyn is in town with her kids, and staying at John and Kathy's house. There is a cousin sleepover tomorrow night, but it is anticipated that only half of the Franson's will be attending due to homework issues. Ah, the joys of motherhood never cease.

a deep sleep

Yesterday was awful, but I figured out why it seemed he might stop breathing. He usually takes two regular strength sleeping pills at night. Night before last he took two, but it was of the new prescription of double strength ambien. I'm just lucky he didn't stop breathing altogether.

John and Kathy came this morning to get the kids off to school while I went to the temple. We will be having dinner, again, at their house tonight. I'm so grateful for their help. There's just no way I could do this without them.

the highest pitch of frustration

If emotions were musical, there would be a pure, inaudible note of frustration that would break all glass within 10 miles of my house.

I think today is the first day I seriously considered that Scott might die before making it to transplant.

I've always assumed that the peace and comfort the Lord has given me meant that Scott would be ok; that there would be this happily ever after we would grow old in. With my prayers and pleadings with the Lord, when I consider this other, less desirable ending it is terrifying that I would also feel peace, even perhaps a greater peace.

I was so confident with what I thought would happen; what I wanted to happen, and now there is no guarantee. It doesn't seem possible to be overwhelmed with both frustration and peace at the same time, but I am. I'm reeling with the realization that my will has absolutely nothing to do with what the Lord will give me.

Scott slept most of the day, and went to bed early. I check on him to see if he is breathing.

An exceptional day

Two walks, three hours of church, an evening with the kids, and no naps constitutes the best day Scott has had for months and months and months. Hallelujah!

The trucker's prayer

The cashier pulled my attention back, but by the time I had paid for the pizza, the man had gone. From across the room, Scott mouthed an, "it's ok" and we worked our way out of the truck stop.

How amazingly odd...... bold, really. I was touched, and to think it is the second time this week I have been privileged to see it.

C approached us two mornings ago and asked, "Can I give dad a prayer?" It was a humble, singsong prayer filled with, "........Jeshush loves me, bless that A will let me in his room, please bless dad............ Amen." and she skipped out of the room. It was simple, pure and leveled us to tears.

So, this stranger passes Scott, stops and says, "Liver?" Yes. I am waiting for a transplant. "Oh, you need a prayer." He holds Scott's arm, gives an earnest, humble prayer, bears his testimony of Jesus Christ, and walks away.

Wow.

I believe in God. I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe in The Resurrection; in grace through The Atonement. I even pray for strangers. (Well, bikers mostly........ although, it doesn't seem very charitable to be praying for them to donate their organs should they die.) But, I'm not sure that I will ever have the kahunas to grab a stranger and pray openly. I should, at least, be inwardly praying for them; sending faith out on their behalf.

I guess what really made these prayers impactful is that they were shared. I wonder, what is wrong with me that I would be afraid to pray and bear my testimony? Especially after having been sustained and supported by God, and the faith and prayers of so many other people, is it that hard? Really, if a child can do it........

Anyway, we are home; kids are with the cousins; church is at 2:00; no imminent worries........ I am going to have to find a pair of runless nylons, and strangle myself into them. That, in itself, could warrant a trucker's prayer.

Twelve was higher than a kite and screaming.

Number two had a baby boy within minutes of arriving.

Room nine had a man whose wife dragged him all the way to Utah to sit in the ER until 4am and listen to them say that there is nothing wrong.

I do think something is wrong, and it is too soon for an infection to show up on the labs. Perhaps, I am mistaken, but I would rather be feeling stupid here than be sitting in Idaho with a seriously sick man. We will stay until Sunday. If the pain and chills do not return, we will go home.

Well, we will go to IKEA and then go home.

Sorry

Sorry to interrupt your blog-opera lurking, but I am too depressed to blog about how depressed I am, today.

happy

(perky voice) "Ms. Franson? My name is Kevin with Chem Lawn. Several of your neighbors are clients of ours. What would we have to do in order to add you and your lawn to that list?"

"You would have to be practically free."

(awkward silence)

"Really?"

"Oh yeah!" (enter hysterical laughter)

"Ok, well you have a nice day, ma'am."

Most everything else about the day was blah, but for some reason, that made me really happy. The kids have been good; that made me happy. Scott was in pain, but is feeling better; that made me happy. Scott's parents are here to see if he would eat anything from Schwaan's; that makes me happy. M wants me to get her a pet swan; that would not make me happy. She is reading over my shoulder and saying that Scott wants me to come up and entertain his parents; happy.

I would like to hold my breath in protest over how agonizingly long this is going on..................

Not a very effective protest, was it.

the longest days

Centimeters separated my side of the van from the rear bumper of the truck. It was a big, shiny truck, and I became acutely aware that angels buffer every aspect of my life. With the way I drive it must be a tough assignment, but I feel ever so humbled to have them. Thank you, thank you.

It will be a year this week that Scott's ERCP brushings showed cancer cells; a whole year. I can't remember what I thought about before, but since, there's not been room for much else. Nothing is the same, and how could it be? Cancer consumes everything in it's path.

I look at Scott and pray his essence will come back. The man must be in there somewhere. The little glimpses every now and then give me great hope, but for the most part, he feels burned and war torn. These soulless days are the longest; the days spent only breathing.

The Toones provided the much needed distraction for the evening, thank you. The kids even cleaned their rooms for wii privileges. Scott stayed home and enjoyed the quiet.

one night

Ok, so one good sign that Scott is doing better is that he actually had a good dream last night. I thought it was a seizure, because he was jerking around and making snorting (not the usual nasal chainsaw) and grunting noises. When I woke him, he had dreamed that he was old, driving go-carts for little kids, complete with sound effects. I laughed till I cried; it was so funny.

The kids were good for Scott during the hours I spent in time-out, this afternoon. Being so sour, I spent the last conference session alone, listening to the talks over the radio.

Conference always leaves me more grounded and inspired. Not that I can especially point out any particular speaker, but I felt the peace and comfort of listening to a prophet of God and his apostles. General Conference always leaves me with a burning desire to do better, and be better.

We all went to my parent's house for dinner. Several of my sisters came with their families, and we had a great time playing games and laughing. For a few hours, all the stress melted away as Scott was able to participate and enjoy the good company.

Scott was Scott, tonight. He brought artwork to give away, and talked, and played. Moments like this have been so rare, so precious; it brings me to tears to have him back. I can't project what tomorrow will bring, but can hope that it will all continue. If it doesn't, I can be grateful for this one night.

as long

I think I have it figured out. I feel Christlike love and patience towards my children as long as I am alone, and I am a perfect mother as long as I can keep my mouth shut, and they do not interact with each other. If I chain each of them to a different corner of the house with a few granola bars for sustenance, my mothering will be perfect for at least two hours. Perhaps, I will just bury my head and let them run a muck of the house that is no longer beautifully clean, as it is much easier to find peace with my head sandwiched between the pillows.

fried

I guess I don't feel too terribly bad that I forgot to rinse the conditioner out of my hair, this morning. The fact that I didn't really sleep last night might even account for the fact that I didn't realize that my hair was crunchy until I recently had to go to the bathroom and took a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Yikes...... Oh, Mahana reigns and lives long....... and to think I almost went to the store this way.

Anyway, Scott seems to be snapping out of the anesthesia from yesterday. He is still in pain, but looks better, in general. Perhaps, I just want him to look better so I can believe that the last two days wasn't a total waste of energy.

This morning's session of conference was excellent. I am grateful for the opportunity to listen here at home. I'm also grateful for the opportunity to take a nap.

By the way, my whole house really is beautifully clean, thank you, whoever you are.

Just wondering

It probably wasn't where he would've preferred to go right after having his drain adjusted, and being drugged out of his gourd; but I figured at least one of us should have a good day. Those IKEA boxes fit perfectly in the back of John and Kathy's bug, and will be a nice project for JA and I to do together over the conference weekend.

On the way home, I was just wondering: do chiropractors see a lot of drivers who keep their heads at 45-90 degree angles for hours at a time in order to rest their arm while talking on a cell phone?

............. how many people, who talk on their cell phone while arcade racing down I-15, are registered donors? How about the ones who talk on the cell phone, kink their neck, and weave in and out of traffic while eating?

............. does Utah consider time spent racing in the arcade as part of drivers ed, or do they really teach them to jerk like that when they change lanes?

Now, I'm wondering who on earth is brave enough to sneak into my house, do my personal whites laundry, and clean up my room? ......very risky behavior. I'm sure it is a close friend or relative, and I just missed them because the dryer was still going when we got home.

Thanks, but I'm either going to start locking my doors when we leave, or making sure my room/house isn't so bad that I'm embarrassed out of my socks if someone cleans it. I guess I should be grateful that there wasn't................ Never mind. I will just lock my bedroom door.

John and Kathy took the kids to Jackson Hole. They saw mountain goats and had a fun time.

I feel so bad for the kids; fun mom leaked out so long ago, alongside those brains; only survival mom remains. Survival mom likes it really quiet, and also really, really quiet. Since quiet is rarely a part of fun at my house, it is most fortunate for the kids to have patient grandparents to fill in where I am grossly deficient.

God Bless the Grandparents!

to Utah

I brought Scott to Utah, this afternoon. It was completely against his will, but I am fed up with this expletive drain. All I'm asking is that they adjust it so the Man can move without feeling like his innards are chewing on tinfoil.

The kids are with John and Kathy. Thank you, thank you. We are at Jan and Bill's house and in lots of people's prayers. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

P.S. You should never randomly open the scriptures in search of answers to life's questions if you can't handle the reply. Try waiting for a transplant and opening up to D&C 64:32.............. brutal.

Love that package

The day could've gone any of several directions this morning. I leaned heavily toward the state mental institution, but there are several drawbacks: hour long drive, costs too much, kids go to foster care, new cat will die, Scott might miss me, blah, blah, blah.

Another option was the local Super 8 Motel; not as glamorous as Blackfoot South, but less expensive, a little less stigma and closer. Still, the kids would have free reign of the house, and coming back to that disaster would be worse than any temporary relief obtained.

Then, there's the temple just 7 minutes drive from my house. It is free of charge, no stigma, and you come out smiling and pleasant in spite of having worn nylons. There's no amount of quiet time or psychiatry that can match spending 2 hours at the temple doing work for your ancestors. It offers peace and stability, and I needed some of that, today.

I received a package, today. It rivals the one Scott was given by Karilyn that included the most clever poster, "Congratulations on your Grand Opening" after Scott's exploratory surgery last September. Julie's included Dr Pepper, bubble gum, fake fruit, chocolate, and Beano. Wrapped up in little installments; I opened them all. Couldn't help myself. Apparently, I'm having patience issues. Thanks, Julie. Tell Nan she did a great job, too.

April Fools

It feels like a tasteless April Fools Day joke that we haven't gone for transplant, yet.

The fact that it is April and we are still in the exact spot that we were in September incapacitates me. I'm worthless, and know that N is going to come home and demand that I teach her how to sew dolls. JA will need to practice his spelling. M will be expecting that I called on paper prices. I am going to have to pretend that I care, but would rather jump off a very tall building.

There are a few bright spots.

The purgatorial drain has stopped leaking as much. It would appear that scar tissue has sealed up the hole a bit; what a relief to change the dressing only once a day as opposed to 4, 5, or 6 times a day.

The Relief Society came and cleaned my house, thank you. It will look nice for 22 more minutes, then JA gets off the bus....... perhaps, I could just keep him running around the house for another night.

I have a ton of food options to choose from in my freezer and fridge; thank you, again.

As normal as it can get

I had a pretty normal day. Well, as normal as it could get.

M resurrected a project from the basement. Zoe Book is a designer journal business that Scott set up for me years ago. I abandoned it when life with three children, ages 3, 1 1/2, and 0, got too sticky. She's excited and hopes to start selling them in the school trinket shop.

N has a sore throat. It is getting worse, but she doesn't have strep; I had her tested this morning at at the local urgent care. She thinks she's dying, but I'm finding it hard to be sympathetic; tonight, she played outside without a coat until I threatened to beat her.

It feels counterproductive to take your child to a walk-in clinic. There's just not enough hand sanitizer in the world to counteract the germs lurking there, not to mention the ones being hacked out into the enclosed atmosphere. If you weren't really sick before you went in, you certainly will be when you leave.

JA ran outside all afternoon in spite of the classic January-but-it's-really-almost-April weather. He played hard enough, but every time he ignores what I say, he gets a lap around the house. I'm thinking he will be a great track star...... probably a long distance runner.

C is thrilled with the new cat that just "showed up" at our door. I'm a little suspicious because we were offered one. I refused, and here a kitty-kitty conveniently appears out of nowhere. Hmmmm....... The kids are thinking about naming it Craisin. That's fine, but I'm not feeding it.

Scott...... Scott is pretty darn sick; everyday he is a little bit worse. It is agonizingly painful to watch him go down, and then down again. Salt Lake keeps saying the same old thing: Stinks to wait for a transplant.

A sad day at the Franson house

If you grew up on a farm, you learned to never get attached to the animals. Chances were very good that you would be eating them the next week, or they'd get run over on the highway. I am no longer on the farm, so I guess it is ok for me to bawl over a dead cat.

Roughly the size of a raccoon, and 9 years old, Raisin was a long haired, dark calico manx. Every spring, she would shed great globs of hair; it looked like dead kittens all over the yard. But, she was a great mouser and extremely tolerant of being mauled by infants and rough children. The vet thinks she ingested poison, perhaps, via a dying mouse.

The kids all took it hard, except for C. Without even a tear, she told everyone that it was ok, because Raisin would be resurrected; that we would all be together again. What a sweetie. She took it upon herself to give loves and hugs to make us all feel better.

Another long day for Scott. He is trying so hard to stay awake during the day, but his schedule is all messed up. He's also complaining of that foggy feeling, again. We will restart the lactulose in the morning, but at a lower dose since it upset his stomach the first time.

capable

Scott's parents visited with Scott while I took the kids to the cousin's, and then the Cromwells dropped by so say hi. Here, Scott had been abjectly miserable all day, but was lightened considerably by a few visits.

I am amazed at what a visit and a card can do. Usually, I'm leary of bothering someone when they're stressed out, but if it's done right, it is a powerful show of love and support. I really have to do that more often.

I have to do a lot of things more often. We have been touched by the outpourings of love and support: phone calls, fastings, prayers, prayer rolls, visits, cards, emails, diversions, food, friendship.......... thank you, thank you. We feel so loved and blessed. It would be sad if I forgot all that and went back to my old self.......... not that my old self was THAT bad, but there's definitely room for improvement.

I have it from a reliable source that the Relief Society is staging a cleaning coupe on my house, next week. I'm thinking if I have energy enough to sheetrock, then perhaps, I should be able to clean my house. Not that I would actually choose to use a lot of energy cleaning, but the fact that I'm perfectly capable makes me a bit uncomfortable with having someone else do it.

So, I cleaned the toilets. It was a gruesome job as they have been neglected for some time. I guess, that's one good thing about hearing rumors that the Relief Society is coming to clean your house...... it sure does motivate you to clean your house.

Mwa ha ha......

Scott's bow ties are now available online through Beau Ties LTD. They are named Pomona, Costa Mesa, and Inglewood. I'm so happy with how they turned out.

Scott had several good hours this afternoon. It was a merciful gift as the last few days and nights have been excruciating.

We are having homework wars. The cousin sleepover at the Stakers, tomorrow night, is at stake. It's not a problem, because kids that choose to stay home will have plenty of work to do.

Mwa ha ha.......... Parenting is so much fun.

Wanted: a magical medication

Scott complained about not being able to sleep, which is nothing new, but there was something different; subtle, but significant. The fog has left his voice. He can speak clearly. It feels like Scott, albeit miserable, is in there. He's not just some rag doll propped up for decoration on my bed.

So, the lactulose must be doing something, but I'm a little disappointed that it didn't do more. I'd really love some magical medication that shampoos my carpets, cleans the toilets, AND flushes out offensive ammonia. It seems sad that the medical profession has come so far, but still can't accomplish the simplest things.

Seriously though, I wish that it would've relieved some of the oppressive lethargy. That seems to be a bile issue, not an ammonia issue. I guess I should be happy with whatever relief he can get.

A heavy, silent snow falls this morning. It is my favorite kind with huge flakes. I enjoy watching it blanket my yard, just as I had wished.

a pinewood derby

This year, they have announced that there will be no competition at the pinewood derby. It is just for fun. Apparently, the mothers are tired of taking crying boys/fathers home and are hoping for a conflict free atmosphere. I don't know what they are thinking, really. In the end, everyone will still know whose car is the fastest; and I guarantee, someone will go home in tears. The goal this year at the Franson's is to not have the slowest car. Not a lot of effort has gone into it, but Scott did sand the axils.

Scott slept most of the day. The lactulose has not been as harsh as purported on the internet........ at least, not yet. We will see what this night brings.

Every now and then, I get a gagging panic at how much ground Scott is losing. It literally knocks me to my knees, and leaves me begging for mercy. But it's at my ground zero point that I find the most peace; the Spirit speaks to me there. I am consistently admonished to be still, and be comforted. The Lord must have a no flailing policy...... too bad, I'm a pretty good flailer.

When the ER calls you......

You should always consider things pretty bad when the emergency room dr unexpectedly calls you. Just know that he is not calling to see how your day has gone, or if the easter bunny visited your house this morning.

So, it wasn't the worst news, but it wasn't good news either. Scott's ammonia level is elevated; he has mild encephalopathy. This would explain the rapid mental decline very well. The fix involves using cathartics (a special thanks to Jenni for introducing me to this word, just last week) to eliminate the offending ammonia in an unpleasant manner.

I haven't told Scott about the lactulose yet, because I can't hardly handle it myself. I am praying so hard that they will call us for transplant before our hepatologist officially informs him of needing the lactulose in the morning.

....... let him break the bad news. I'm going to bed.

Easter

I don't remember Easter ever being so movingly significant for me. It would seem that Easter Sunday becomes more meaningful when you are anxiously awaiting your own redemption and resurrection.

Nice try

Concerned about his rapid mental decline, I called the nurse coordinator for advice. She recommended that I take him to the ER to rule out encephalopathy, a fancy word for really, really bad news. He does have a high bilirubin count, which causes extreme lethargy and malaise. Those words mean: you are still alive, but wish you were not. It is exactly as I had suspected; there is nothing left to be done, save a transplant, to help Scott...... but I had to try.

I really am trying to cope. I usually think of how things could be worse, in order to feel better about how things are right now. Unfortunately, the situation is such that any worse is too bad to imagine. I've had to switch over to thinking how nice it will be when Scott is better.

JA called while we were in the emergency room, "Mom? Don't forget the pencil sharpener, OK?" I had to explain to him why a pencil sharpener wasn't very high on my list of priorities at that moment. Alas, I am a softie, and purchased it on the most insane day at Walmart, while Scott's fluids were dripping in. If that's all it takes to thrill the boy out of his socks, then I guess I'm happy to oblige. Besides, it was nice to be able to "fix" something.

John and Kathy came to hold the fort. Our neighbors brought dinner. The kids helped clean the house and took baths. I am sending loves and a huge thanks to all.

snow melt

After waiting months for the snow to melt, I am wishing it back again. Anything to cover up the mess and the neglect over the last year. Just the thoughts of grass and garden plow me under.

It was a long day for Scott. He's in a fog of confusion and bizarre dreams. Perhaps, I should've called Salt Lake, but I know they will not be able to do anything. I wish he weren't in so much pain, but he doesn't want the drain messed with again. The discomfort seems intolerable to me; he refuses to go down for anything except for transplant.

I had a pleasant enough day. We had breakfast with Ann and Bert at Scott's parent's house; wonderful to see them. I purchased material and made the girls matching Easter skirts; so adorable. I even made after-school snacks for the kids. In passing, I had eaten my second slice of apple before I realized that someone had sucked all the carmel off.

energies

Scott's pretty wasted; reads to JA every night; seems like a little thing; precious energies well spent.

Packed mascara and toothbrush; kids' bags on kitchen floor; gas in van; chewing hard on dead gum; twitching for phone call; feel sorry for next real person telemarketer that happens on my number.

Sigh........

There are some really great benefits to living in the mormon culture. Everyone is considered to be family, so there's a support system whenever you need it. I have to thank everyone for all their fasting and prayers, not to mention all the yummy rolls, casseroles, dinners and desserts. We feel very loved.

Two ladies from the ward showed up on my doorstep, today, and said, "We're here! What can we do for you?" I do kind of wish I had had the guts to give them cleaner and set them loose on the bathrooms, but since I didn't, we talked a bit and had a good laugh. It really lightened my day, thank you. I love it here.

Scott didn't sleep well last night, so he slept all day, so he won't be sleeping tonight, so he'll sleep all day................

The man lives on pain pills and carnation instant breakfast drinks. He's never been a fleshy man, but now he'll never be able to sit for any length of time due to the additional loss of padding. I don't get it; no matter how much I eat, he just keeps losing weight; so frustrating.

So, with the fireplace walled over and sheetrocked, I sadly returned the jackhammer drill to the neighbor's. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for that drill. My father has an antique gun on his mantel. Personally, I'm more likely to put up a HILTI. It's a beautiful piece of greasy equipment, and there's no better therapy on earth. Sigh..........

Bow ties at CAL Ranch

I sang primary songs while the kids got ready for school, this morning. It's part of an overall effort to keep my mouth busy with more pleasant words. Perhaps, if I can't be a nice and happy mom, I could be a more neutral, "peace, be still" mom. Nothing good is accomplished when all I can spread is misery.

He couldn't help it; he had to wear one of his new designs. So, even though we were just getting labs drawn at the hospital and socks at CAL Ranch, Scott dressed up and wore the green bow tie. I think he will stay dressed up all day. He looks almost...... almost like nothing has ever happened; this past year was just a dream.

Scott bought me some Dr Pepper jelly beans, and teased that he would put them in a little bottle for me to take as medicine. Perhaps, he suspects that I've laid off the caffeine these past few days. Perhaps, that is why I am so depressed and have a pounding headache. Perhaps, I am just tired and need some resolution to this situation.

Bow ties

Scott's bow ties came in the mail. It brightened his day, and they're beautiful. They will be available through Beau Ties LTD on the 28th.

Another Monday.

My mother came to hold the fort and rotate the laundry while I napped. I was hoping that it would help, but it seems that my brains have leaked out of my head for the very last time....... never to return................ ever.

Home again, home again....

Scott wanted to be in his own bed, so we came home a day early. I'm equally exhausted either place; it doesn't matter to me. Though they protested, I doubt another day would've been enjoyable for the children; they're all so tired.

I don't want to go to anymore social activities where peripheral people ask how we are doing. When I say, "We are making it"; they say, "No, how are you doing, REALLY?" They're just trying to be sympathetic, I'm sure, but is it not obvious? I don't have energy to waste on nosey people who press annoyingly hard to hear me say, in essence, "Yes, things stink, right now."

Anyway, it was a nice party. The kids had a great time with more of their cousins, and the food was perfect.

Scott seems better than he's been for days. He's being more diligent about taking the pain meds on a schedule. I can't believe what a difference it makes. Also, I think discussing legos with nine year old Justin really perked him up.

Sunday, again

I've been resisting the urge; it would be so easy; just a little black pen line would change that "o" to an "a", and give the vinyl lettering above the toilet a more truthful meaning:

You are smarter than you think,
You are stranger than you seem............

I'm grateful to have good family and friends to help buffer the stress on the kids. It's more than comfortable here at the Garcia's, as it was at Dawn's and Kari's house. Thank you.

M said, "This is such a good vacation." and Scott could hardly believe it. He feels terrible, and here, I've been dragging him around like a rag doll. It's been worth it. The kids sorely needed a break and have played joyously with cousins and newfound friends.

So, we're headed to my nephew's mission farewell this afternoon. He's going to England.

I think it's amazing that the Lord sends nineteen year old boys to preach the gospel for two years, and in spite of themselves, they really are able to share the gospel and make a difference. Impressive.

Run away

I couldn't take the bleakness anymore, so I just packed everyone up and hauled them to Utah for some sun and fun....... too bad the snow followed us.

Oh well, the kids are having a great time at Jan and Bill's house. I am hoping to take them to Springville to play with cousins for a bit. My sister is coming to shop at IKEA. Scott is going to relax/be lethargic here at the house in comfort. It promises to be a pleasant day.

I did call the nurse coordinator to let her know that we are here in SLC for the weekend, and that it would be really convenient to go for transplant anytime now. She laughed, but I am quite serious and would love to extend our stay.