Off-balance

I've mentioned before that I am a fan of denial.  Actually, I'm not a fan of it.  Denial just seems to be my M.O.  It's the place where I lived for about the first year of my mom's illness.  Close to two years ago my mom started having episodes of vertigo.  She would be dizzy for a few days and then get better.  Eventually the episodes lasted for longer periods of time with shorter recovery between.  She went to ENT's and neurologists and vestibular balance center.  Doctors performed the epley maneuver (useless in her case), prescribed vestibular rehabilitation therapy (helpful at times but never a fix), she had CT scans and MRI's (no cause for the dizziness found) and various medications (again, no fix).  She would have good days and bad days.  I assumed, and I think we all assumed, that the episodes would just stop.  Eventually, though, the bad days overtook the good days.  Now, there are bad days and not so bad days... and even the not so bad days kinda suck.

My parents had been living the retirement dream since they moved to Virginia from Ohio.  My mom joined my dad on the golf course when she got clubs for her 60th birthday.  They had a boat to take out on the lake and a busier social schedule than me.  Of course living so close to their grandkids was an extra perk!  Now, though, so much of that has been taken away.  She hasn't played golf or driven a car in close to a year.  My parents tried to take the boat out this past summer and it made my mom's vertigo unbearable.  It takes all of her energy and stamina to stay upright.  Even having my girls around can feel overwhelming very quickly for her.

Just as my mom is off balance, our life feels off balance.  She can't come with us if there is too much walking.  She isn't able get up and play with the girls when they visit.  She is not enjoying life the way she used to or how she wants to.  We cannot do the things with her that we want us all to do together.  I know that a lot of people my age are going through this "phase of our life", but it feels off balance to hold Cadence in one arm and have my mom holding herself steady on my other arm.

Yet, to add to the frustration of this debilitating illness, we have no answers.  No reason as to why this is happening and no ways to fix it.  I can no longer deny the effects this has on my mom and dad.  I can no longer deny the fragility of my parents.  My mom has been so strong through all of this.  If I were in her shoes I think it would have brought me to my knees long ago.  My dad, too, has been supportive in a way I've never witnessed before.  But I know that they are worn down.  They (we) are holding on to one more hope, one more possibility for answers.  We are headed to John Hopkins Hospital this Friday.  The neurologists are the "best of the best" we are told.  Please, please say a prayer for my mom.  Pray for some answers, something to make this better, something to bring back her old life. 



Denial is not just a river in Egypt

Trust me, I know! Denial is one of my best coping mechanisms. Of course Cadence's heart murmur is benign... wrong. A third child will fit perfectly and easily into our lives (Yes, she is a perfect fit. The easy part... wrong.  My best friend is just taking a long vacation... she's not moving away and we will see each other often, right?!

I was raised in Columbus, Ohio, went to college there, and began my career there. This equated to lots of friends. I could call a number of people, any time, any day, and have something to do or someone to see. When I started travel nursing there were usually other travelers to become quick, fast friends. Brad and I met, fell in love, moved to VA, bought a house WAY out in the country, and had a baby. The last two components made making friends particularly challenging. I felt very lost and lonely for quite a while without my girlfriends to call on and hang out with. Once we moved to a neighborhood I joined a playgroup and met a lot of wonderful people and made some good friends. Unfortunately, this neighborhood is quite transient. I have some fabulous friends who have stayed around, but I've also seen a lot of people come and go.

Kristi and her family moved just down the street from us in 2007. Her daughters were the same ages as Sierra and Laurel. We saw each other everyday at the bus stop, carpooled our kids when they were in the same activities, and soon became good friends (as did our girls). When Brad started grad school (the hardest three years of my life) she was there for me. She supported me through all of the challenges of being a "single" parent and missing my husband. I trusted her with all of my worries, my celebrations, and my children. When we were on our way to a funeral and Laurel started puking, Kristi insisted that I bring Laurel to her house and she kept her. Did you hear that? She kept my puking child in her house with her 3 kids! Who does that?! I knew that I could always count on her and she'd have my back. For the first time since college I found someone I would call one of my "best friends".

About a year after they moved in she commented that her husband felt that he was ready to "move up" (read: move away). My initial instinct was to pull away, not get any closer, not open myself up to disappointment when she moved... but I didn't. Thanks to the bad housing market she got to stick around for another few years! In the last year she became good friends with Kelli, and by association, so did I. And I feel so blessed. We've had a blast this last year! We've crashed wineries with our 9 kids (total between us) in tow, cheered loud at late night swim meets, celebrated many birthdays, and enjoyed s'more and wine evenings. The three of us even managed to get away to NYC for a girls weekend. But one thing that I have loved the most, is knowing that these women love my kids. I read this in another blog and immediately thought about Kelli and Kristi:


"Can I get an "amen" for how good it feels to watch your friends love your babies? These kids are my heart and when you love them, you consequently just found yourself a deeper place in my own heart. Likewise, to let my friends know I love them...sometimes loving their kids is the best place to start."


Just two months ago Kristi broke the news that her husband was getting his promotion. I tried to hold back my tears at the playground and couldn't talk to her, knowing the flood gates would open. Not only was I losing my best friend but so were Sierra and Laurel.  Kristi and I were sitting about 5 feet apart, not saying a word, when Cadence walked up. Cadence walked over to Kristi, took her hand to make her stand up and walk, and sat her down on the ground next to me. Our own peacekeeper -that girl's got some instinct! But it made me feel like everything would be alright. Distance changes some dynamics of a friendship, but it doesn't change the fact that I have a friend who will always be there when I need her. It doesn't change the fact that she helped put another wonderful friend into my life. And as someone wise said "Sometimes God can make a void and fill it at the same time".  In the meantime, Kelli and I will plan our next girls trip to meet Kristi in Chicago!