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.

The good and bad of the family reunion. First the good.

Remember I said in that last post that this family reunion wasn't going to be anything spectacular?  I think a little bird or something was listening to that and decided to teach me a lesson.  But before we get to that, I want to remember all the good and fun things.

We stayed in Powderhorn Lodge at Solitude Resort right at the base of the mountain.  I hadn't been expecting anything as nice as that.  Our family had a suite all to ourselves with a bedroom for me and Craig and a separate bedroom for the kids.  There was a swimming pool with a hot tub and a fun slide.

We rode the ski lift up with all the kids and went for a hike along the top of the mountain to Solitude Lake.  Josh rode up the lift with me and we held onto each other, both scared out of our minds at the height.

Saturday night we had a silent auction and the kids won fun toys and prizes with points they had earned by giving service.

Hayes and Brigham had been on trek with the stake and so got there late Friday and arrived safely.  Hayes hopped on his bike early Saturday morning and had a great time with his dad and uncles.

Craig and Hayes went nuts on the mountain biking.  Craig got back from his first run and announced,"I could do this all day!"  And he did.  He biked all day Friday with his brothers and Connor, and then with Hayes on Saturday.

Todd and Cec did a great job planning it.  it was beautiful, everyone got along, and it was just laid back and fun and relaxed.

So that was all the good and wonderful parts. 

The House WILL Be Clean Before We Leave....

Getting ready to leave tomorrow for the Evan Campbell Family Reunion.  Nothing too spectacular or long, just three days at Solitude Mountain east of Salt Lake.  But I've made myself a list of things I want to do before we leave and I am determined.  I've already weeded the flower bed and the garden, cleaned and swept half of the garage (yay!!).  The bread is rising in the bowl and the second batch of laundry is churning away.  I'm on a roll.  Now only seven or eight other jobs to do today.

See the ones that are crossed out??!!  Progress!!!

First Crop Hay

The life of a farmer is full of angst.  So is the life of a farmer's wife.

Where most farmers cut, dry, and bale their hay, we have always chopped and bagged ours.  This means that the hay is cut, allowed to dry in the field for maybe 18 hours, and then chopped and bagged.  Farmers that bale their hay have to leave it lying in rows in the field for a week or more, waiting for it to dry out enough to bale.  The risk is that it will rain, which ruins the hay.  I don't know how many times I've talked to a fellow farmer at church or in town and they've bemoaned the rain, asking me if we, too, had hay lying out in the field.  It was always with sympathy that I told them that actually, we chop our hay so the rain doesn't affect us.  Fake sympathy, maybe.  Inside I was always pretty glad and maybe a little smug that we weren't affected so much by the weather.

It's funny how those things come back to bite you in the butt.

We started harvesting first crop hay about ten days ago.  After they'd been going only about two hours, Craig came in and said that the bagger was shot.  Dead.  Broken.

New baggers run about $200,000.

I tried not to hyperventilate over that.  I reminded myself that Craig was on it, that it was his problem to worry about and not mine.  I'm just the listening ear.  This self talk works only some of the time.

So the cut hay has been laying out in the field.  Getting rained on - twice.  Getting older and older and yuckier and browner.  I have to drive by it every time I go anywhere and I try to avert my eyes.  It's such an eyesore.  And now the second crop hay is growing up green around it,  making it look even worse.  Craig and I have driven by fields that looked like this, shaking our heads and wondering what would cause a farmer to have so little ambition and work ethic to allow this to happen to his hay.

By this past weekend, my anxiety over it was at a high.  Craig contracted a guy to rake and bale it but it hasn't happened yet.  For the love of all that is holy, get that hay off the field!

At least the bagger is fixed now.  I hope.  It's making a bit of a funny sound.  That bagger is held together with paper clips and baling twine - like most of our equipment.  But we're bagging.  The season has officially begun.

Stake Conference

Yesterday I was NOT going to go to the adult meeting for stake conference.  I had had a day.  Craig had disappeared on a four hour bike ride when I thought he was going to be gone an hour and a half.  People from the ward were calling for him, frantic that all the letters from trek were supposed to be turned in and Craig had a bunch of them and did I know where he was?  I tried calling him over and over and he wasn't answering and I started picturing him lying on the side of the road.  Bleeding and calling my name.

I finally located him and picked him up in the van and sped for home like a bullet, giving him the silent treatment, which he cheerfully ignored.

So there was that.  Then I picked up Hayes from Hull Valley scout camp and brought him home.  He gets to come home weekends and he also gets next week off for the trek and our family reunion.  It was nice to have him home at first, but then he started in with the whole list of very expensive items that he NEEDED for camp and all the reasons why I should purchase these for him.  This quickly got old and we got in an argument.

Craig was milking so I would have to go by myself.  I wasn't planning on going at all, but then 6:00 rolled around and I decided I didn't have anything better to do and maybe it would be good to get out of the house.  I threw on a skirt and left.

When I walked into the stake center, one of the very first people I saw was Dr. Bryan Larsen shaking hands.  Dr. Larsen and I used to work together in the GI Lab at Logan Regional Hospital and we're old friends.  I was pretty confused about why he was there, and why he was going around greeting people like he thought he was a general authority or something.

Our conversation went like this:

Me: What are you doing here?

Dr. Larsen: Well hello there!  Good to see you again!  I'm here as your visiting authority!

Me: What?  You're my visiting authority?  How can you be my visiting authority?

Dr. Larsen:  They made me a seventy!

Me:  (Laughing) What?  They made you a seventy??!!  No way!!

Dr. Larsen:  Yep!  (Leaning closer) Don't lose your testimony!!

It was very funny.  I was laughing for about ten minutes after the meeting begun.  And it wasn't that I didn't believe him, I just thought it might be prudent to see some kind of verification.  You wouldn't want just ANYONE to waltz into stake conference, claiming to be a general authority and take charge of the meeting.  I hope President Waldron checked his references.

This is what I thought at first, but then Dr. Larsen gave a fabulous talk.  And another one today.  It was one of the best talks I've heard at stake conference.  I kept watching him at the podium, picturing him in a yellow non-permeable gown and latex gloves, manipulating the colonoscope and swearing about the *%&? covering the walls of the colon.  "How am I supposed to do a scope with all this *%&? in the way??"

I guess it's right what they say:  prophets are human too.

Craig's pictures of Oxford Peak, taken while he should have been tending to his responsibilites instead of shirking them and leaving them to his poor hapless wife who is already overburdened.

Quiet at the end of the day

It's 10:30 at night and I should be in bed.  I had three goals this week: clean the garage, attend the temple, and wake up every morning at 5 to pray and read scriptures.  I didn't clean the garage.  I went in there and looked around, and then I left.  It's so dusty and dirty and stuff is piled all over the place and I have no shelves to organize.  It's depressing.  Best to leave it for another week.

I DID attend the temple today.  That was nice.  I saw a temple worker I knew a little bit, a lady who was recently widowed.  I walked right by her and she didn't recognize me.  I went and sat down and told myself to go back and talk to her and tell her how sorry I was that she lost her husband.  But I didn't.  And then she came into the room where I was sitting and then went back out and still I didn't get up and let her know that I knew her.  I just sat there.  I don't know why I did that, it seems out of character for me.  I usually like to talk to people.

So that was one goal accomplished.  And I've done pretty good with the get up at 5 to have gospel study.  I did really good Monday and Tuesday.  Wednesday was a bit halfhearted, I think I got up at 5:15 and read for twenty minutes before I went off to the gym for my swim.  I can't remember if I got up yesterday or not.  And this morning I slept in until past 7.

But I have renewed conviction in my goals and tomorrow is a new day!  So why am I type type typing away at 10:34 at night instead of in bed where I belong?  The dark and quiet of the house is so soothing and peaceful and sometimes it's hard to give it up.

Goodnight.