Brigham's Dance

There was a tri stake dance on Saturday, which I learned about from Hannah.  The last tri stake dance Brigham refused to go to, but I told him this time that I wanted him to go.  I think he's spent entirely too much time on his computer this summer.  He agreed quite cheerfully.  The theme was fifties and he let me dress him up, the nice boy.  He wore Craig's letterman jacket and we rolled his jeans up to show his white socks.  He looked pretty good, if I say so myself.

I went at 11:00 to pick up Brigham and Hannah and found the kids enjoying themselves.  According to Hannah, Brigham was surrounded by a swarm of girls the whole night.  He said that there were some friends there from his play last year and he was glad because he doesn't get to see them very much.

I watched him dance with Rachel and remembered all the good old days when I went to tri stake dances.  Not quite back in the fifties, but almost.

Heart, Health, Hands, and..... What's the last H? Happiness? Horses? Hemorrhoids?

I will deny ever having said this.  I have bad feelings towards 4H.

Well, maybe that's a bit too strong.  I have mixed feelings towards 4H.  I like the summer classes.  Every month we get a flier in the mail with different classes that the kids can take.  These are the classes I can remember my kids taking: geocaching, rocketry, crochet (by Brigham, funnily), cooking,  cake decorating, bicycling, paper crafts, archery, and scrapbooking.  They were good classes taught by dedicated teachers.  I can't imagine volunteering to teach a group of ten children a skill.  Horror.

But I have some other feelings as well.  I think most of them stem from Hayes's experiences with his bucket calves and Ellie's with her lamb last year.  Craig has always been of the opinion that if our kids want to raise an animal for 4H, that's fine, but they're going to have to take care of it and feed it and walk it by themselves.  And if they fail to do it, he's not going to take up the slack.  Which I agree with in theory.  But then it comes down to showing an underweight, sickly calf who didn't get fed half the time and it gets a white ribbon and the calf buyer refuses to buy any white ribbon animals (and it was the only calf who didn't get a red or blue ribbon so it's the only calf who doesn't get sold) and so your kid feels terrible and Mom feels terrible.  That's what happens.

And none of that is the fault of the 4H program, but somehow I have made it theirs.

So today was the day Ellie had to make her cake to take to the fair.  She took cake decorating from Carol Beutler this summer.  I always like it when the kids are in Carol Beutler's cooking class.  Until it comes time for the fair and it's time to do a project.  Then I wish I could go back to the beginning of summer and refuse to let them join.

Last night I realized that the next day was the day to turn in cakes so I made a special trip to the store for a cake mix.  And then I made the cake and froze it so it would be ready to decorate today.  This morning Ellie and I went to Carol Beutler's to borrow her cake decorating tips and bags and food coloring.  Then I made the frosting.  Two different kinds.  Then we colored it three different colors.  Then Ellie frosted her cake.  Then she threw an uncharacteristic fit because she couldn't get it right.  Then I helped her get it right.  Then Mac and Josh wanted to frost their own cupcakes.  Then Josh threw a fit because he put too much green food coloring on his white frosting and there was no more white frosting.  Then Ellie said the frosting I made was too runny.  Then I pretended to not be having a nervous breakdown.  Then Aunt Heather called and asked me to watch her five kids and I said why not, join the chaos.  Then I watched them and they weren't too bad and Hannah helped Ellie finish her cake.  Then Heather came back and offered to bring Ellie to the fair to turn in her cake.  Then they left.  Then I sat on my recliner to blog and complain.

Ah, 4H.  Thank you for the opportunities to develop patience.  I so appreciate it.

The Man of La Mancha

Last night Craig and I left kids and responsibilities, just threw them to the wind, and went on a date.

I like dates.

We went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner and reconfirmed to ourselves when it was over that we don't like Texas Roadhouse for dinner.  My dad had sent me a gift card for my birthday so we thought we'd save a bit of money by using it, but we should have gone somewhere else.  Oh well, free dinner.

Then we we saw The Man of La Mancha at the Utah Festival Opera.  Craig had seen the movie before years ago but I hadn't so I really didn't know much about it.  Michael Ballam was playing the part of Don Quixote.

Oh it was so good.  It's still with me this morning.  I am envious of Don Quixote, walking around slaying his dragons and windmills and not listening when everyone tried to tell him he was crazy.  He was a romantic dreamer.  I would like to be more like that.  I would like to see in my kids, especially my older kids (okay, maybe just Hayes) their potential and not so much their real-life screw ups.  If I could view them and treat them the way they could be and not the way they are, I think it would not only help them but it would help me.  Don Quixote seemed pretty content in his own little hazy, made up world.

And isn't that what love is?  Seeing all the good in a person and focusing on that?  How can I do that more?

Girls Camp at Moose Springs Lodge

I was camp director for two years, in 2013 and 2014.  I loved it.  I didn't think I would but I did.  I loved the girls.  It was so much fun.  Craig came with me both years and we had such a great time.  Last year was supposed to be my last year because that's how they do it in our ward.  The first year you are assistant camp director, then the next year you are camp director, then you're done.  After last year, though, I called the Young Womens president, Marni Bowles, and asked if I could extend and she said absolutely.

Then in January, I was called as Family History Consultant, as well as still being Sunday School teacher for the 16 and 17 year olds.  I felt like camp would have been a little much so I told Marni I didn't think I would be able to do it.

Apparently the girls in the ward still thought that Craig should come even if his wife wasn't involved. Young Women camp is supposed to have a priesthood leader present at all times and Craig has become the default guy.  He has a reputation for fun and niceness and a love of swedish fish.

This year they had camp up Oxford Loop at Moose Springs Lodge.  They were only having it for one night due to the trek this summer.  I was pretty disparaging of that plan.  That's not camping.  But I asked if I could come up for last night's evening activities.

It was a good time.  Rachel and Aspen and Misti and Dan Sharp taught me a new game, Mouse.  And then we had the most delicious dutch oven potatoes for dinner.  And then we walked aways from the lodge and built a fire and had testimony meeting.

Testimony meeting at girls camp is always good.

And then after I left the girls convinced Craig and Dan to let them paint their toenails.

Sunday School kids

I teach the sixteen and seventeen year old in Sunday School.  Some of them I've taught a long time.  I used to teach with Aneesa, which was a dream come true for three years.  There are three youth Sunday School classes and we taught the middle one.  Then Brother Fuller left for a mission and the Sunday School presidency split us up and had her teach the middle class by herself and me teach the oldest class by myself.  I'm glad to have stayed with the kids in Sunday School, but I sorely miss teaching with Aneesa.

The kids are Hayes's group.  Ethan, Jeffrey, and Cecci Porter, Chalese Jensen, Savanna Roberts, Jordan Jolley, Jason Wedel.  I used to have the kids who were a year older, also - Misti Swann, Madi Moser, Mindy Weeks, Wyatt Bowles, Brennon Henderson, Niels Stegelmeier, Carlton Baird - but they're mostly gone now, off to missions and college and the singles ward.  Only Carlton is left and he'll be leaving next month to go to college.  And I'm kind of looking forward to it because he always refuses to participate and is on his phone the whole time.  I don't even know why he comes.  His parents probably make him.

I love these kids.  They are so great.   They come up with the funniest things and such good insights.  I have enjoyed teaching them so much.  I like to think I'm a good teacher and I think most of the time I am.  It's a stretch to teach every week.

I've been worried about the kids this summer.  Jason Wedel hasn't come to class for four weeks in a row.  And he's been avoiding me.  He saw me and refused to look at me when we were both at Makayla Holliday's reception.  I saw him after church this last Sunday and tried to talk to him but he didn't want to.

And I'm worried about Cecci.  Something is up with her.  She posted a picture on Instagram of some punk kid, talking about how much she loved this "man", and how grateful she was that he had come into her life.  And she's always posting pictures of herself in different poses, and a lot of pictures with her sister Anyssa and brother Oscar, who I think are NOT good influences on her, especially her sister.  I think Anyssa is aspiring to be some kind of striptease dancer, from the pictures and video she posts.  It's appalling.  And it's especially appalling because I've watched Cecci grow up from this little, sweet thing with bangs and glasses into a really beautiful young woman.  She's so quiet and shy in class.  I don't know if she knows her own worth, and is thinking that a hot dancer is the best and most valuable thing she could be.

It worries me.

I know these are terrible pictures but I like them.  I took them when I was teaching my class as well as Aneesa's because she was gone.  It was sometime this last spring.  I asked if there were any volunteers for the opening prayer and they all raised their hands.  I had to get a picture of it.

HOTT MAMAS

In January I was looking into starting to lift weights.  Aneesa had told me numerous times about how Aaron had become so much more healthy, had lost weight, and had strengthened his back since he started to lift weights in the mornings three times a week with his buddies.  I asked him if I could come too, and Aneesa tactfully told me that I couldn't join that group.  Turns out it is an elitist, snobby, Westside-graduates-only, sports-enthusiast weight lifting group.  Not her words.  

So I decided to form my own group and I convinced Aneesa that she should do it with me.  I told her that it would be called the Westside Non-Elitist Weight Lifting Club but she hated that name.  She told me to come up with something better.  After some thought, I came up with HOTT MAMAS, which stands for Her Own Time To Meditate And Modify her Amazing Shape.  HOTT MAMAS.

Aneesa always encourages me in my little weird eccentricities.

So we met Tuesdays and Thursdays - almost without fail, for six months.  Aaron kindly made us some routines and printed them out and taught us how to do them. It really helped that we were about the same fitness level and strength.  We could set the weights for one level and both of us do them.  Dumbbells, barbells, planks, lunges, pushups, crunches, bench presses...we did it all.  We were amazing.  

And then I broke my collarbone.  

The doctor said no lifting weights for twelve weeks and maybe even sixteen.  I envisioned HOTT MAMAS fizzling.  

But after a week, we hit upon walking the track.  We still meet at 5:30 Tuesdays and Thursdays and we're usually able to walk twelve laps and sometimes thirteen in an hour.  That's three miles.  

It's great.  We talk and talk.  Sometimes Aneesa calls it her therapy.  

The above picture was taken one morning when it started to rain just a couple laps into our walk.  It drizzled and drizzled and pretty soon we were soaked.  One of us suggested bagging it and going home but we toughed it out and finished our hour.  A rainbow came out and we took a selfie, with both of us looking extremely goofy.  I don't think either of us has mastered the art of selfies, a fact which I think neither of us cares about.  

It's wonderful.  What would I be without Aneesa?  This is what I would be: fatter and grumpier.  Thanks, Hott Mama.

Happy Pioneer Day

Todd and Cec's son Loclan is soon going to be a big brother!

Ellie and Tati in the bouncy castle

The flip flop piñata - or in Craig's words, the thong.

                                           

Deana made an appearance but didn't bring CaileeMae, much to Ellie's disappointment. 

Mac's prayer and doing the dishes

Last night we were going to bed and could hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, which I decided to ignore.  Brigham poked his head in the door and asked me if I was aware that Mac was doing the dishes.  I walked to the kitchen and peered around the corner to find Mac squatting on the edge of the sink, running cold water over the dishes and swiping at them with the brush.  

I went over there and looked over his shoulder at what he was doing.

"Are you washing the dishes?"

"Uh huh."

"Should we finish them in the morning?"

"Uh huh."

He turned off the water, I got him down, and he went to bed.

Mac has prayed the same prayer for the past month whenever it's his turn:

"Heavlyann Father.  We thankee for the day.  Please bless Mom's arm.  So it will heal.  And we need to clean up our messes to help her.  And Jesus died for us.  So he can live with us another day.  In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

It touches my heart every time.

Relief Society gone awry

Had a hard time in Relief Society yesterday.  The teacher was giving the lesson from The Teachings of the Living Prophets, President Bensons words about the priceless blessings of the temple. In the middle of the lesson, she starts talking about President Boyd K. Packer's quote about how the greatest threats to the church are feminists, homosexuals, and intellectuals.  And she's printed these three words out on a paper and she taped them up to the board. And she said isn't it wonderful to go to the temple where we don't have to see these three things.

I sat there, aghast and confused.  Have we entered some alternate lesson dimension?  What is going on?  Did I fall asleep and miss how this applies?

And EXCUSE ME???  I consider myself a feminist and intellectual.  And while I'm not a homosexual, I have people I care about who are.  And feminists and intellectuals and homosexuals can go to the temple as long as they are worthy.  Why is she pinning this forty year old, divisive quote up on the board to label people and to stare down at us the whole lesson?

I wanted to say something.  I came pretty close to saying something.  But the problem was that this particular teacher is notoriously bad for being able to handle comments in class, especially comments that don't agree with her own point of view or open up a new thought or basically go against whatever she thinks.  She gets flustered and doesn't know how to handle it.  And I didn't want to be the one who did that to her.   So I sat there and didn't say anything.

But now I'm wishing I hadn't.  Surely there were other sisters in Relief Society that day who are also cursed with being either a feminist, intellectual, or homosexual.  I should have piped up.

3:00 means movie time

This is Mac and Josh watching a movie in their favorite spot.  I've made a rule this summer about no movies or screens until 3:00 which has been a pretty good thing.  Last summer there was entirely too many movies and I didn't want a repeat of that.  After lunch, they start asking if it's 3:00 yet.  

Their favorite place is the stairs, with the iPod or iPad on a stair and their foreheads leaning against the next highest step.  It's pretty funny.  I think it has something to do with the fact that there's no food allowed in the living room.  Funny little boys.  

Happy day of magicfulness for Josh. Or not.

Happy birthday to Joshie today.  Oh my laws could this day have been worse.  Actually yes, I'm sure it could have, but it really was pretty bad.

Craig is chopping today.  The dump wagon started off the day with a flat tire so he called Ron Kelller Tire to come fix it on the double.  This is the third time they've been out this week to fix the same tire.  They finally got it fixed and everyone started chopping - two hours later than they thought they would.  Everything was going strong by lunchtime, with no time to quit.  Craig was running the chopper and Brigham was running the bagger, and I realized that they weren't going to be able to take a break and celebrate Josh's birthday.  And we couldn't do it in the afternoon because Ellie had to milk.  And we couldn't wait until evening because I had my shift at the family history center.  No time for Josh's birthday.

Josh had requested macaroni and cheese for his birthday dinner (gag) so that's what I fixed for lunch.  We sat down to eat it minus Craig and Brigham.  When we were done I called Craig to see if he and Brigham to take a mini break to eat cake and open presents.  He said not only could they not stop, but Harley had just called to say that she was going to be late for the afternoon milking and did I know of anyone who could fill in?  Ellie was scheduled to milk with Harley but she's not able to milk alone.  I didn't have any ideas.  Oh, and by the way, he had heard that the employees had crashed the silage trucks into each other.  WHAT???!!!

I never heard anything more about that and saw the silage trucks going by the window without dents so I decided to assume that was a nasty rumor.

I put a brave face on things and lit Josh's candle by myself and tried to sing as loud as I could with Ellie helping.  After Josh blew out his number 4 candle, we went on the treasure hunt that I had set up for his present, ending up in the bike trailer outside where Josh found his new John Deere trike.  After he tried it out, he wanted to know where his other presents were and accepted things with good grace when I told him that's all there was.

After the festivities, such as they were, Ellie got ready and headed out to milk all by herself until Harley arrived.  And I sat at the table and ate another piece of cake, and then another.  And now I feel sick.

Poor Josh.  He didn't seem disappointed, but I wonder if his little four year old mind and heart is wondering why his special day wasn't so special.  He only gets one birthday a year.  It should be so great.  I wonder what I can do to help him, and myself feel better.  Something.

Craig

I've been thinking about how my injury has affected my relationship with Craig.  While we've had a great marriage, my dependance on him the past few weeks has changed our relationship.  The first few days after my accident, he was in charge of my meds and would set the alarm clock to wake him up.  He would bring them to me and lift my head up off the pillow so I could swallow them.  He came with me to all my appointments.  What sticks out most in my mind is how he helped me get dressed in the morning.   Most mornings, he would wait to go out to do his work until I woke up.  He would help me get out of my clothes to shower and then wait until I was done to help me get dressed.

It was just so sweet and tender.  I was so reliant on him and he did everything for me that he could.  I got to where I just wasn't comfortable if he wasn't around.  Brigham wanted to go to see a movie in Logan with his friends and I went along to supervise his driving.  The whole time we were gone, I felt uneasy and on edge because I was gone from Craig.

I'm not better enough that I can dress myself and take care of myself pretty well.  Once in a while I get my arm stuck in my shirt, but most of the time I do fine.  As I regain my independence, I find that the tender reliance I had on Craig is waning - and I miss it.

In General Conference last, President Packer spoke about marriage in the last conference talk he would give.  He said, " When entered into worthily, this process combines the most exquisite and exalted physical, emotional, and spiritual feelings associated with he word love.  That part of life has no equal, no counterpart, in all human experience."

I agree.

Le Tour de France

   For three weeks in July, Craig and I become     obsessed cycling fans.  We love watching the Tour de France.  Two days ago there was a terrible crash that involved a lot of the peloton.  I think there were at least two broken collarbones, one broken wrist, and Fabian Cancellara, a favorite to win the whole tour, broke two vertebrae in his back and had to abandon the race.  

    Exciting stuff.

Except that since my accident, I have way too much empathy for people crashing and hurting themselves.  It used to be entertainment to watch the crashes, but now it causes small flashbacks to my own accident and it's not so much fun to watch.  

But the tour is still fun.  The scenery is so beautiful.  It seems like every other mile, they are highlighting another five hundred year old church or monastery.  I would love to see it someday.  I'll have to work on my french.

A Little Mexican Lady in my Garden

Yesterday was Sunday.  I was discouraged.  To tell the truth, I think it was more depression than discouragement.  The garden was a mess of weeds.  I couldn't believe that only two weeks of neglect could make it look like that.  And Hayes is gone to camp and Brigham and Ellie are both working quite a bit on the farm and Mom is already helping me so much so I had nobody to ask for help.

I sat on the pew waiting for sacrament meeting to start, trying not to cry.  Several people wanted to ask how I was doing, including Bonnie Jones.  I said I was doing fine and she said not to worry, that everything would wait for me to heal.  I said yeah, except the weeds in the garden wouldn't wait.  I regretted saying it as soon as it was out, because I didn't want Bonnie to think I was asking her for help.  Heaven forbid I ask for help.  And whether she did or not, she said that she loved me but she didn't do gardens.

So then I felt worse.

I sat in my chair last night feeling pretty bad and wondering why it was so hard to ask for help.  Why can't I get on the phone and call the Relief Society and ask for help with the garden?  Why do I feel like I should do it all myself?  Isn't that what they are there to do?  To give relief?  But who would I ask?  My visiting teachers, who have already brought me meals?  Heather and her kids who are busy with their new house?  Aneesa who has her own huge garden to weed?  I didn't know who to ask.

This morning I was in my bathroom when my mom poked her head in and told me that there was a little mexican lady in my garden.

"What's she doing?"  I asked.

"She's weeding."

"She's weeding???"

I had to see this for myself so I went out there and indeed there was a little mexican lady in the garden.  She didn't speak much English at all but she said her name was Luce and that Wesley Beutler had sent her.

Wesley Beutler.  The bishop.

I broke down as I watched her pull weeds.  She already had about a third of the garden cleared and was going strong.  It was beautiful.  Craig and I had to leave for my doctor appointment and when we got back, the garden was free of weeds.  There wasn't even piles of them, they were completely gone.  It was like she had descended from heaven to weed my garden and then had ascended again when the job was done, like a angelic visitation.

I don't know how Bishop knew.

Independence Day

Lining up for the mile run

Independence Day in Dayton is always so much fun.  5K run in the morning, then pancake breakfast. Home to shower and then patriotic program, parade, dutch oven lunch, and then games for the rest of the afternoon.  We always park ourselves on the west side of the field with the Tolmans.  It's always fun to see old friends that have come back for the festivities.  Aaron and Aneesa are in charge of the day, Aaron being the mayor, and we do what we can to help.  This year we donated the shirts and then I was the parade announcer.  The kids rode their bikes with the rest of the Primary and Craig was supposed to ride in the fire truck with the bishopric but I think he walked with the bikes to make sure Mac and Josh were okay.

The neighbors are shooting off fireworks so I think sleep is going to be hard to come by for a while.  I'll just sit here in my recliner while we finish watching National Treasure.

Josh quit pretty early but Mac ran the entire four laps - and he had ran four laps before the even began "to warm up"!!

Josh and Mac showing their catch from one of their favorite parts of Fourth of July - the fishpond!!!

Reclining is now my life.

My life now consists of sitting in my reclining chair.

Craig and the kids have been so great.  Brigham saw me nodding off as I was trying to read Mac and Josh a story and took over.

I can remember telling my patients years ago that the day of surgery is terrible, that the day after surgery isn't much better, the day after that was also bad, and then usually the third day was when a lot of people turned the corner and started to feel better.  I can only hope that it's true because life doesn't seem so peachy right now.

And I was even offered the chance to announce the fourth of July parade in Dayton - which I've always wanted to do and I really don't think I'm in any shape to do it.  Aaron says he'll let me do it next year.

Sigh.  No Gran Fondo, no parade, no nothing.  Just sitting in my recliner.

A picture taken from - what else? - my recliner.

Still here

My adamantium plate, I am now Wolverine.

Blogging this from my beloved recliner.  Obviously, I made it through and I'm still alive.  Not even a near death experience, dang it.

Yesterday Craig and I arrived at the surgery center and got all checked in.  As the tech was taking my vitals I saw there was a vinyl lettered sign on the wall listing Intermountain Healthcare's values.  I remembered being tested annually on those.  I asked the tech if he knew what they were and he fumbled around, guessing, not even close.  That was funny.

The nurse started my IV while another nurse asked me all the preop question, rate my current pain, blah blah blah.  He referenced Brian Regan's pain scale skit and when we told him we were huge fans but hadn't seen that one, he found it one his phone and handed it to me.  It got me laughing so hard I couldn't stop and was a great way to put me at ease.  Asked him if he knew the values.  Nope.

We had to wait awhile for the actual surgery and by the time the OR nurse and anesthesiologist came into my room I was a bundle of nerves.  Craig kissed me goodbye and they wheeled me in.  I moved over to the skinny OR table and craned my head looking at all the big lights and machines.  I knew it was just another day at work for them but it was a singular and frightening experience for me.  I asked them if they had ever had surgery before and Dr. Clissold said, "Oh yes, Kris has had a brain transplant."  Turns out they both actually had been operated before and that made me feel better, that they could empathize.

I was determined to keep my eyes open even as Dr. Clissold said he was giving me something to make me feel sleepy.  Nope, not sleepy.  Not sleepy.  Not.....

Fade to black.

Waking up in the recovery room and telling the nurse that I had dreamed about biking, which she said was strange because most people don't dream.  I don't remember having the dream, only saying it.  Wasn't hurting but was HOT, sweating all over and feeling like I had a thousand blankets on me.

She soon wheeled me back to the surgery center where Craig was waiting for me and it turned out that I had been gone about three hours.  Before the surgery, we had scoffed when we found out they had blocked out a two hour time slot because surely the whole operation couldn't take more than an hour.  Craig said that Dr. Murray had come to see him and told him it went well but that there had been a third piece that hadn't shown up on the X ray that he had to tie into the configuration and there was still a gap so he used a piece of cadaver donor bone.  That was surprising.

Everything went pretty quickly after that, waking up and sipping juice and getting out of bed to walk around and receiving my instructions and being wheeled out of there.  The post-op nurse, McKenzie, said that years and years ago when she was a teenager with a ruptured appendix I had taken care of her and she remembered me telling her that she had to get out of bed even though it hurt.  I hope I was nice to her.  She didn't know the values.  Dr. Clissold and Kris hadn't either.

Drove home, determining not to be nauseated and I wasn't for the most part.  Deana offered to keep the little boys overnight which was great.  Got home and parked in my recliner.  Heather came to visit and then we watched a movie.  It was a nice quiet evening, drifting in and out.

Last night I slept in the bed next to Craig, woke in the middle of the night for a couple hours and then slept for a little bit again.

And this morning I feel pretty good!  I quit the Percocet after two doses, it makes me to groggy.  I think Tylenol and Celebrex are going to handle things just fine.  I even showered and ate Fruit Loops.   Just waiting for my little boys and for Grandma Lynn to get back from Mesa with Ellie.

So grateful to live in a day of modern medicine.  And a little confused.  We went to the doctor last week and he said he didn't think it would heal well without surgery but we were unconvinced.  The research said that 70% of people with my break healed fine without surgery.  I kept going back and forth about it, my mom squarely on the side of not needing surgery, until Craig said it was enough research and we should probably get the surgery.

So the way it turned out, I probably wouldn't have healed well without the surgery and would have lost a lot of strength and ability in that right arm.  Why didn't I receive more direction on it?  Why didn't the Spirit tell me clearly that I needed it?  I feel like I was left to myself.  Little unclear about that.

So nice and peaceful sitting here with my laptop and my phone and my book and my scriptures and soon, a nap.

Final Goodbye

This is what I posted on Facebook:

Tomorrow I’m having surgery to fix my broken collarbone.  I’ve never had surgery before and I’m a little nervous about never waking up.  Just in case, I wanted to tell everyone goodbye and thanks for all the great memories.  And it’s all good because I have faith that life goes on and that families are forever.  I’m excited to see Evan again and I’m also pretty excited about never again having to chase cows in the middle of  the night.   Not to say that I won’t miss Craig and the rest of my kids.  If someone could bring them a casserole once in a while, that would be great.  Oh, and garbage day is Tuesday so someone is definitely going to have to remember that.

It’s been a wonderful ride.  I love you almost all of you and I would probably love the rest of you if I knew you better.

Goodbye. 

And this is what people replied.

Kayla Reeder Roberts:  Ha ha... I'll have David text Craig a reminder every Monday night about the trash.  Seriously though, best wishes for a speedy recovery.

Thomas Campbell:  Holy Crap.  That must've hurt.  Good luck!  I'm sure you'll do great!

Anne Holliday:  You should probably settle beefs you've had with people for a long time too.  You would hate to die with that in the back of your mind.  And I think social media is the best platform for that.  So I'll just grab some popcorn and watch :)

Anne Holliday:  Also, goodbye.  Maybe.  

John Cox:  You gotta keep posting stuff like this it makes my day.  It's a collar bone for heaven's sake.  I broke mine in the middle of Russia and I a still alive.  Your not gonna die.  Although seeing Evan would be pretty cool.

Tawnia Nielsen Zilles:  You are hilarious!  Hope you heal quickly.  What did you do to break it so bad?

Diana Campbell:  Suzie...not to sure I like that sense of humor, but...give Ruth, Nick and Audrey a big hug!  Now seriously!  Just relax, and breath.  You will be fine.  

Tracie Reilley Keller:  I will be thinking of you.  You will do great.

Joshua Campbell:  That X-ray looks HD compared to the original.  Did you get another one?  BTW: Fireworks look pretty cool from above.  

Amber Leonhardt:  This post is a little morbid, Sooz.  No dying!!  Good luck tomorrow, love you.

Tyler Leonhardt:  I died once.  Not a big deal really, you just gotta walk it off.  :)  For reals though, I hate sleeping pills for the exact same reason, so I understand the anxiety.  You'll be fine though.  Have swift recovery!

Loretta Page Dailey:  Think about this differently!  It's so nice to be put under because it's like you don't exist for a just a minute and  neither do any of your problems.  You WILL wake up before you know it and wish you could have slept just a little longer

Anne White:  Suzie, you'll do great!  Your bike will be waiting for you, to get back on!  Speedy recovery friend.  

Sunnie Larson Streadbeck:  That looks like a nasty great!  I'm sure you will be just fine but the thought of your kids without their Momma makes me a little teary.  Good luck!

Nate Kennedy:  You'll be fine.  The world would be an awful place without you!  I almost didn't wake up from surgery while I was on my mission.  Scared a lot of people, but somehow I slept right through it.

Erik Carpenter:  What will happen to your cows.  My freezer is empty.  I have a hankering for some beef brisket.

Marsha Porter:  Wow!  That is a broken bone!

Carolyn Moyle Christensen:  Prayers for you, funny woman!

Mac's Birthday

June 27, 2010.  Mac's birthday.  What a day that was, I'll never forget.  Went into labor in the middle of Primary sharing time and rushed off to the hospital, concerned that he was coming four weeks early.

Mac has been looking forward to this birthday for weeks and weeks.  Craig told him that it would be his birthday as soon as the corn got up to his knees and he's been watching it faithfully.  He had pretty grandiose plans.  He told Craig that he needed to wash all his tractors and clean up the entire farm for his birthday, which slightly alarmed Craig.   He informed us that the entire house would need to be decorated.  And last week we visited the toy store and he had me take pictures of about thirty different toys that he planned to receive for his birthday.

Even despite potential disappointments (dirty tractors, only balloons for decorations - four of six which popped within half an hour of him waking up - and less than thirty toys for presents), it's been a grand day.  Right now Mac and Josh are over there playing with his new collapsible bridge.

I am so grateful for Mac in my life.  For this child I prayed.

Birthdays are the best.

A LOT of healthcare.

I'm tired of typing with just my left hand.  You know that scene in Enders Game where he's typing away on his little futuristic iPad and he's just using one hand?  I keep thinking that I need to get good at it like Ender.  I keep glancing up at the screen to discover that I accidentally hit the caps lock fifteen words ago.

This morning Brigham drove me into Logan for a doctor visit.  I had made an appointment with a new OBGYN a couple months ago, not knowing that I would have it up to HERE with doctors and hospitals the last week of June.  But I figured that it was scheduled and I might as well go.

Everything went well and I like my new doc, Tandy Olsen at the Budge Clinic.  Everything but his name.  I'm just not sure I can take a man seriously whose name is Tandy.  I got my blood drawn (two pokes) and scheduled my very first mammogram - wheeee!

Brigham waited for me in the reception area and on the way out, he asked if everything was okay with my injury.  I informed him that actually, this visit was to make sure everything is still good with my woman parts.

"Oh.  Yeah, I was a bit confused why we were coming to the Women and Newborn Center to check out your collarbone."

Smart kid.

If you could just hand me those keys then I'll be on my way.

It's been a little bit of a struggle being dependant on others.  Not too bad, because Craig and the kids and my mom and Heather and Aneesa and the Relief Society (and the list goes on and on) have been so great.  But I consider myself a pretty independent person, and needing help with the simplest thing like getting dressed has taken some getting used to.

Brigham has been chauffeuring me around everywhere -which has the added benefit of getting him needed driving hours.  Last night, though, I decided I'd had enough.  There was no reason why I couldn't use my left arm to drive.  It would be fine.  I wanted to go work my shift at the Family History Center in Preston, and I was going drive myself.

There was just one little problem.  I couldn't reach the keys.  I sat in the drivers seat and looked down at them, tucked away in the console down by the floor, but my bum arm couldn't reach them.

But it was all good, because Craig had seen me get in the car and he had parked his tractor and was hustling towards me.  He hadn't been in favor of me going to the Family History Center, but there he was, hurrying on his way to help me out.

"Oh Craig, thanks, I just need you to reach - "

"No.  Out."  Holding the door, he looked at me and I suddenly realized that my chances for driving out of here were slim.

"No, I can do it, I can handle it!"  Starting to laugh.  "I just can't reach the keys!"

"Out!"  Motioning with his thumb.  "Get out of the car!"

"But I can do it!"

"No you can't because I'm not going to let you."

Still laughing, I leaned over to try to get the keys myself, but my right hand flopped and clawed at the air, not even close to the desired keys.

I gave up and got out of the drivers seat.  I managed to open the passenger door by myself and Craig did up my seat belt and closed the door.  I let myself be driven to the Family History Center like a baby.

But a much loved baby.

Craig and I have always made fun of recliners.  The only people with recliners are the sick or infirm, and they practically live in them, we always said.  Craig went to U&I Furniture on Monday and picked this out for me and now I practically live in it.  The only problem is that the lever is on the right side so I have to call for someone to come put my feet up.  And then I'm stuck there until someone comes to let me out.

And now for the bad.

Craig read that previous post and got to the end and said, "That's it?!  Where's the rest?!"

No, that is not it.  Something quite spectacular and unfortunate happened at the family reunion.

For two days, Craig and Hayes and the uncles were having such a grand and glorious time on their mountain bikes.  I got it in my head that I wanted to try it, too.  After all, when am I going to have another opportunity like this??  There were brand new mountain bikes to rent, the ski lift is right outside the lodge door to ride up and then coast down the mountain, and Craig is available to give me a lesson.  I announced to Craig that I wanted to try it out.

He was surprised and seemed excited and impressed that I was so daring.  I didn't realize until later that he thought I understood that the only way down from the ski lift was a quite advanced trail.  I did NOT understand this.  I thought we would be gently riding down a gradual slope.  There was an easy trail down the mountain, but it was closed for construction, and there were not markings, at least none that I noticed or paid attention to, about how difficult the trail was.

We rode up the ski lift and that was nice, a fifteen minute soar through the air with my best husband.  When we got up to the top we got our bikes and then walked down a gravelly slope to where the trail started.

I quickly realized how out of my league I was.  The very first switchback I stopped and walked the bike around, alarmed at how much I didn't know about switching gears and using the brakes.  The brakes were quite touchy and different from my road bike.

About a third of a mile down the trail, Craig showed me how to get through a quite technical part of the trail - over a root, down an 18-inch drop, and then down an incline before he came to a stop and waited for me.  I thought, "Okay, here we go," and made me way over the root, being careful to hit it square, and then through the drop.  I knew I had to stop to avoid hitting Craig so I grabbed the brakes hard.  The front wheel grabbed the dirt hard and stopped, the rear wheel came up and I went over the handlebars, slamming into the ground on my right shoulder.

Craig was there fast, brushing me off and sitting me up, telling me it was okay.  As I sat up, I could feel the bones of my collarbone shift and I knew it was broken.  I hate to ruin Craig's day, but I told him that it's broken, it's broken, and started to cry.  I laid back down on the trail.  Poor Craig.  Poor, poor Craig.  He didn't know what to do and didn't know how to get me off that mountain.  He got on his bike and went for help as I laid back on the dirt and looked at the sky and the tops of the trees and cried and prayed.  He was back four or five minutes later, though, and said that he couldn't leave me.

He took off his jersey and made a sling out of it for my arm and we started the walk back up to the top of the ski lift.  We passed some hikers and they collected our bikes and brought them up for us.  We were able to make it up and Craig managed to reach his dad and tell him I was hurt.  His dad got ahold of ski patrol and they met us up at the top of the lift on a four by four.

Todd was up there too.  I knew I'd be okay after that, seeing there were people there to help.  Patrol had a makeshift sling and put a nonrebreather oxygen mask on me and decided that it would be okay if I went down the lift, which I was so grateful for, as I didn't think I could tolerate going down the mountain on their four by four.

Craig and the patrol guy and me rode down on the lift, passing everyone staring at me in all my injured glory.  We passed Hayes and Connor, who had heard about it and come up to help.  Later, I hear that Hayes asked Connor which was the quickest way down the mountain and Connor showed him and they got there before we arrived back down in time for him to see them load me up into Todd's car for the ride to the hospital.

Todd and Marion and Craig took me to Alta View Hospital's emergency room.  We got checked in and I had an IV started but then had to wait a half hour for the doctor to see me and to get any pain meds, which was difficult.  By that time it had been about two hours since I was injured and my shoulder HURT.  A nurse finally came in and gave me some morphine, which made everything better.

I liked this shirt and they cut it off!  Craig and I like to
make fun of scissor happy EMTs and it really is true.

The X ray showed a pretty clean break and the doctor sent me home with some pain meds and a brace and sling, telling me to see my orthopedic surgeon the first part of next week.

We went back to the hotel and I greeted my kids.  Poor Ellie had been alarmed.  She had been with Grandma Marion when she got the call from Evan and been frightened by Grandma's "freak out".  Grandma really knows how to get things done in an emergency, but often is quite insistent and loud about it.

I spent that night and the next day doped up on Lortab, which made me sick, sick, sick.  Every time I got out of bed and on my feet I would start to feel dizzy and weak and sick and then I would throw up.  It was awful.  I threw up twice in the hotel bathroom as Craig and Ellie tried to get me ready to leave and then again in the car on the way down the canyon to go home.  It was awful.  We finally made it home and Dad, though Tonya's help, called me in some Tylenol #3, which I tolerated much better.

The bones keep shifting around, which doesn't hurt so
much anymore, but is like fingernails on a chalkboard.
I tell Craig that I'm one of the X men and my name is
Bonecruncher.

So here I am on Tuesday morning.  The pain is much better.  As long as I keep my arm still and close to my body in the sling, it really isn't too bad.  We went to visit Dr. Murray yesterday and he said that the ends of the bone are too far apart to heal and that I definitely need surgery, which isn't what we wanted to hear.  AND he said that because I had been on Motrin, as well as having compromised skin integrity from my sunburn, he was going to wait to do it until next Wednesday.  NOT what we wanted to hear.  That was disappointing.

I'm in a bit of denial that this has really happened.  No Hott Mamas weight lifting with Aneesa, no biking, no Gran Fondo next month, no swimming - FOR THE REST OF THE SUMMER.  My summer is stretching out in front of me as one long blah.

But there are blessings that have come.  I told this to Craig and he didn't believe it and made me count them.  So here they are:

1.  Craig has been so sweet and tender with me.  As sweet and kind as a mother to her baby.  He washes me and helps me dress and undress.  He gets up in the night if I need my pills.  He would lift my head from the pillow to help me drink.  He has taken such good care of me.

2.  Hayes was so solicitous and kind also.  Lately our relationship was devolved into being difficult and bossy on my part and demanding and ungrateful on his part, but he has really tried to help me be comfortable and do as much as he can to help.  On the mountain, I kept thinking what a shame it was that Hayes wasn't there, that this was his big moment and he was missing it.

3.  All my kids have tried to help.  Ellie always wants to help me.  She is such a little mother.  And Mac and Josh have realized that I can't give them "uppies" anymore and have stopped demanding them, as well as realizing that I just can't do so much anymore.  It will be a good thing, I think, for Mac and Josh to become a bit more independent instead of trying to get their mom to do so much for them.

4.  The Relief Society has been bringing in meals.  Aneesa said that on Sunday, the sisters gasped when they heard what had happened, and then when the meal sign up sheet was filled, several sisters demanded to know why it had gotten filled up so fast and why they couldn't have a turn to help.  Such good sisters.

5.  During that long night in the hotel room, the night after I got hurt, I was drifting in and out of sleep when I suddenly had a vivid dream.  I was in the forest alone and suddenly a huge brown bear walked by.  And it was Evan.  I knew that.  And I hadn't even been thinking of him, and there he was.  He didn't say anything because bears can't talk, but he was there to be with me.

I hadn't really felt Evan's presence there on the mountain top, but I think that dream was a message to me that he had been with me and was aware of and concerned for me.


So that's it.  The Great Collarbone Break.  It's always been a marvel to me how nobody in our family has ever broken a bone.  Six kids and no broken bones??!!  Amazing.  But no more.