Collision of Holidays

Poor November. It's become the little month that could. After the Weeny frenzy of October and the rush to bring on the glories of December, it kinda has an identity crisis.

Often it is just combined with Christmas and referred to as 'the holidays.'

Not this year. We are going to savor the month of November and all that it has to offer.

The one word that comes to mind, for many is:

THANKFULNESS

Are we full-of-thanks?

Our family is really going to focus on giving thanks this month. I saw several cute ideas on the internet, but I'm liking the thankful tree. We are going to try it, and then I'll post pictures. Each family member comes up with something they are thankful for, and then writes it on a little leaf (or other cut out) and attaches it to the tree. Then, on Thanksgiving Day, we will read all of them aloud.

Just to keep it real, you know what I'm thankful for today?

Here is a hint:

We went from this
to this in one afternoon:
No, I didn't put my fall stuff away and haul the Christmas stuff from the attic.

But I did change all of our CD's ...

I'm thankful for Christmas music!!!

Sunday Rest

And the glory of the Lord will be revealed

and all mankind together will see it...

The grass withers and the flowers fall,

but the word of our God stands forever.

Isaiah 40:5,8 

Feathering my Nest

I recently received this photo in my in-box from my dear friend.  She is the one who took me on an adventure this summer to find the perfect black fabric .  She bought me my fabulous black mirror, and she found this adorable fabric that day.  It has elegant little green frogs with red dots.  It is perfect for her bonus room windows.  

She has a knack for details and I always get such great ideas from her.  Take for instance this wreath she added to the window.  Nice touch!

So I stole her idea and did this:

I added this feather wreath.  

I had been eyeing them for several months but I wasn't willing (or able) to spend $20 on it.  But I happened upon this one (on sale!) at Micheals.  I added the weekly 40% off coupon and paid pennies for it.  Since the mirror was so large and heavy, I wanted to soften it a bit.

To hang it, I simply added some ribbon and tacked it to the wall with a pin.  Yes, a simple dress pin did the trick.  Brawny little thing!
The black ribbon is just looped around the whole wreath:
I just love the softness and texture it adds to the bold black framed mirror.  
The best ideas are borrowed from good friends!

Whew! (3)

I'm celebrating a week of 'whew, we made it through October', so if you've just joined me, start here.

It had been a long 11 months.  My Manly Man had endured more pain than I had thought imaginable.  Our lives had been turned upside down.  But things were starting to even out.  By summer's end he was walking and getting strong.  

He had lost almost 40 lbs. in  the first 2 months.  We joked that if I had been the one sitting in a recliner for that long, I would have gained 40 lbs!  Even though he had lost that much weight, his arms were 'big guns' from using crutches for 4 months.  The human body is an amazing creation.  Time heals so much ... usually.

To celebrate Labor Day Weekend, we had taken a trip to (our favorite place) the NC mountains with some friends.  We were excited, as this was the first time we were able to go and enjoy the fun stuff that we usually do, since the accident.  We knew he wasn't ready for hiking, but we still enjoyed other things like kayaking and picnicing on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

As we strolled along the streets of a quaint little mountain town I happened to be walking behind my husband.  It occurred to me that his limp was getting worse.  I brushed it off as fatigue until my friend, who was walking beside me mentioned it.  

Oh, no!  

After 11 months, he was tired of people asking if he was okay.  He just wanted to be normal again.  So, I gently asked him if he was in any pain.  "No, I feel great!"

But within 24 hours his leg was worse.  While he was experiencing no pain, the area that had been 'fixed' was now curved.  From front to back.  A distinct curve where it should be stick-straight!  We decided to make an appointment with the surgeon as soon as we returned home.

Although limping, my husband walked into the appointment pain free.  The doctor took one look and said, "We need x-rays."

As we waited for him to return with the results, we tried not to think of what was ahead.

He returned, with a very grim expression.

"It appears that your leg is broken again.  You are a medical mystery.  You should be in severe pain and it is inexplainable that you can walk on it."

Broken again?!  How did this happen?!  He's been so careful!  He has followed the doctor's instructions to the letter.  I looked at my husband's stricken face and knew we were about to face another mountain.  "Is it something I did?" he asked.

"No," replied the doctor, "after comparing the x-rays, it appears that when I released you to begin putting pressure on your leg and start walking again, the original x-ray did not reveal the strength of the bone.  Basically, rather than healing in a solid mass, which is usually how bones heal, it was more like Swiss cheese.  The x-ray could not detect that.  So, for 5 months, all of your weight has been basically supported by the thin metal plates.  While they are made to act as a support to bones, they are not designed to withstand movement.  It is similar to a paperclip.  You can bend a paperclip several times, but eventually it is going to snap.  That is what has happened with the plate.  The plate itself has broken in half and now your 'swiss cheese' bone cannot support the weight of your body."

"This is very critical.  We need to do surgery now.  We will need to do a bone graft from your hip to give your leg the support it needs. Let's plan on next week."

W-w-wait!!!  This cannot be happening!  It will be October next week.  We just did this a year ago.  Please.  Not again!

Obviously my husband was having the same thoughts because he said, "what will happen if we don't do the surgery?"

"I don't think you understand the gravity of this.  If the blood does not flow correctly and we don't fix this, we will have to consider amputation."

Amp-u-ta-tion.  

The word screamed in my head.

I was in a vortex again.  That place I never wanted to be again. 

"We are going to do all that is in our power to correct this, but you need to face the fact that we may not be able to save the leg."

No, no, no.  You don't understand.  My husband is a builder.  He can't miss another month of work.  He has to walk.  He needs his leg to support our family.  

NOOO!!!!

If I thought my husband was broken before, this was shattered.  "I can't do this again."

We held on to each other and cried out to God.  We spent the evening in a fog.  Tomorrow we would deal with all the logistics.  Together we prayed, "We don't know your plan right now. We don't understand it, and if we are honest, we don't like it.  But we know that You see the whole book and we are only looking at one paragraph.  We trust your will.  Give us strength and peace as we face the unknown."

The next few days were spent arranging childcare, bringing the extra bed back in, rearranging the family room.  I had learned many things from the first go-around.  This time, we put a cooler with ice next to his chair, now, when he needed a drink, he could help himself.  We had a large piece of foam for him to put under his leg at night.  We gratefully accepted meals and offers of help.  This time, we had a little time to prepare.

Once again, my parents were out of town (Alaska) when we got the news about the surgery.  We told them they may never leave the area again. Hehe!  My husband mourned the fact that he would miss yet another hunting season.

On the day of his surgery, we knew that SO many were praying for us.  We could feel God's comfort, love, and most of all, peace.  We knew that no matter what the outcome of the surgery, He was still in control.

As I sat in the waiting room with friends and family, I realized that THIS is what life is all about.  It's not always mountain tops and smooth sailing.  Life has valleys.  Lots of them.  But it is in the valleys that we look up and see the glory and majesty of the mountains.  While the view is great from the top of the mountain, we don't appreciate the grandeur of the peak.

The best part:  my heavenly Father is with me in the valley and on the mountain top. Sometimes He walks beside me, sometimes He has to carry me.  But that's what daddy's do, don't they?

The surgery was supposed to take 6 hours and it lasted 8. The surgeon came out with a smile. The surgery had been successful!  He was very pleased with the bone graft and overall details. (Lots of words I didn't understand).

Because there wasn't 'trauma' to the leg as had been the year before, the healing process was faster.  He still spent Christmas with his beloved crutches. :0)

We had a goal in mind.  Our family was planning a trip to Disney World in March.  That gave him almost 6 months to be off the crutches and cane.  I think goals are good for the soul.

By the time we saw Cinderella's castle, he was able to walk down Main Street on his own. While he was busy watching our children's faces, I was captured by his.  I rejoiced and shed a few tears. He was back.  Happy and healthy.  Whole.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you.   

Jeremiah 29:11-12

We have now made it an entire year without surgery.  My Manly Man has enjoyed hunting season to the fullest this year.  Although, he defied the odds and went on crutches last year... you can't keep a good man down.   A defining moment for him was climbing up in the tree stand where the original accident happened two years ago.  I really didn't want to know.  But it was something he needed to do ... with a safety strap.  

So, WHEW! we made it through October without a visit to the orthopedic surgeon! Yipppeeee!!!

Whew! (2)

I am celebrating a week of

"Whew, we made it through October!"

If you haven't read the beginning of the story, start here.

My father-in-law and I returned to my husband's hospital room after hearing that the condition of his 'broken' leg was very serious.  It was obvious that we had both been crying. My husband had a look of fear on his face.  He was envisioning the worst.  After all, they had done every kind of test imaginable.  

After we explained that he was going to have to be transported to another hospital, a look of relief spread across his face.  "Okay!  I can deal with that!  After the two of you came in crying I thought I had cancer or something."  Ever the optimist! 

By this point, it was 1 a.m. and I found myself driving across town to 'the mac daddy' hospital, which housed the best orthopedic staff in the world... hopefully.

As Murphy's Law would have it, the ENTIRE hospital was full.  By 3 a.m. we were finally given a room.  

In the neurosurgical wing.  

That poor nurse.  She was as sweet as pie, but knew nothing about pain management.  My dear husband was writhing in pain and she wasn't figuring out that Morphine doesn't do it for him.

My father-in-law had gone home to help with the kids and trade places with my mother-in-law.

My husband's dear aunt and uncle were sitting with me.  It was surreal.

The surgeon-of-the-century arrived to give us 'the plan.'

Apparently, falling 10 feet out of a treestand can do a lot more damage than well-trained actors acquire from falling out of buildings.  

The good news: the ankle joint was fine.

The bad news: both bones in the lower leg (doncha love my medical terminology?) were shattered

This would mean 2 major surgeries.  

First, they would need to stabilize the leg.  This would mean an external fixator.  

Do you know what that is?  Let me explain.  

This is a metal apparatus that wraps around the outside of the leg and is held in place by two metal rods that are screwed into the tibia bone.

Uh-huh.  That's right.  He had metal pieces coming out of his leg. 

For 2 weeks, he had to endure it and I had to look at it.  Gag.

Second, he would have another surgery to reconstruct the bones.  This meant he would have metal plates permanently inserted in his leg to provide stability for the bone loss.

For a man that hates the hospital, this was terrible news.  However, the alternative ... well you know.

The first surgery went very well.  He came out happy and ready to go home, aside from the fact that he had this THING on his leg.  By this point, my parents had cut their trip short and were home, ready to help out.  Before we left the hospital, the nurse informed us that I would have to give him a daily shot of blood thinner to reduce the risk of blood clots for the upcoming surgery.  A shot.  Really.  Like, in his skin?

I really wanted to be a good wife.  So I sucked it up and agreed to a demonstration.   Before I knew it, I was on the floor out in the hall with my head between my knees, and black spots dancing before my eyes.  Oh, honey, I tried.  I wanted to do be a good nurse-wife.  Fortunately, my mother was a nurse and she lives next door.  Otherwise we'd have to pay for in-home care.

From this point on, I began to realize the complete chaos that comes with an injured husband. It began with how to get him into the house, where to let him sit and sleep comfortably.  We brought in a bed (since ours was upstairs), moved the old recliner back into the family room, and borrowed a walker.

At the time, our children were 3, 5, and 7.  Still a very needy age.  I was suddenly thrust into caregiver and single parenthood.  While my husband was there physically, he couldn't help with the little things I had taken for granted.  I never realized how much I appreciated his evening help.  Carrying laundry upstairs, bathing the kids, cleaning up dinner.  

Oh how my prayer life changed!  While there were lots of 'Lord, I need...'  there were also lots of 'Lord, thank you for a husband that usually does all this stuff that I'm doing right now; he is the best... I want him back."  Oh, the little things.  Funny how we don't notice them until they are gone.

Meanwhile, my Manly Man was facing enormous challenges.  This is a man who thrives on manual labor, fixing things, building things, working on projects and playing outside.  All of these were taken away.  Not to mention the rest of hunting season (his passion) was ruined.

I watched him be humbled and broken.  Not to the point of no return.  We knew the Lord was in control.  We trusted Him.  We knew that no matter what the outcome or how long it took, God already had a plan for our lives.  He knew this plan long before we ever met and began our lives together.  He knew and He held us in the palm of His hand.

So after 7 months of rehabilitation, physical therapy, a walker, crutches and then a cane,  the doctor released him to walk on his own free will.   Oh the lessons we learned during those 7 months.  We learned that our marriage is strong enough to face giants.  We both learned patience and sacrifice.  We learned that we have many friends willing to step in and provide meals, comfort and encouragement.  

We were ready to move on.  We were willing to accept the fact that he might always have a limp and scars.  But then, scars are not there to remind us of the pain, but how much we've healed.

As the summer progressed, so did my husband's strength.  We knew he wouldn't be able to run for at least another year, but his walking was stable.  

His limp was diminishing until ...

Sunday Rest

Let us then approach the throne of GRACE

with confidence, so that we may receive 

mercy and find grace to help us

in our time of need.

Hebrews 4:16

Whew!

This week I am celebrating:

"Whew, we made it through October without a visit to the hospital!"

I've alluded to the fact that we had a life-changing ordeal a couple of years ago.  I've finally found time to sit down and put it into words.  It's long, so I won't be offended if you have better things to do.  If you've got a few minutes, brew up some java, add a little Gingerbread creamer and join me.

It was a cool October Saturday and we had a fun evening planned.  My Manly Man was headed over to his parents' house with the kids.  He was going to hunt while the kids spent some time with Grandma and Gran-gran.

I was headed to the grocery to buy enough food for my friend Julie and I to try the 'once a month cooking' thing.  I was standing in the checkout line with my cart loaded to the top when my cell phone rang. 

It was my dear mother-in-law and she said:

"There's been an accident."  

My heart was in my throat.

My whole world could be changing at this very moment.  My husband?  My children?

"Your father-in-law is with the paramedics trying to get your Manly Man (okay, she used his real name) out of the woods.  I've got the kids with me.  I'll call you when I know more."

Click.

Remember I said he was going HUNTING?  

WITH. A. GUN.

I started crying as the lady was ringing up my Oreos and chicken breasts.  I didn't know what to do.  Do I just walk out and let them decided what to do with a half rung up cart of groceries?

It's funny how we behave when the world is crashing down.  I just stood there and waited until she was done.  I paid for the food with a trembling hand and left. 

I called Julie and told her what was going on.  As we were trying to decide where to meet for her to rescue the mountain of perishable food, my husband's cell phone beeped in.  

It was his sweet voice.  

His tender, loving voice that I had feared I might never hear again.

"I'm okay."  That's all it took for the dam of emotions to break free.  I was sobbing.

"It's okay, honey.  I slipped coming down from the tree stand.  I fell about 10 feet and I messed up my ankle.  The paramedics (two females) couldn't carry me that far out of the woods so they had to put me on a stretcher in the back of my dad's 4-wheel drive truck to get me out. They are going to take me to the hospital, so you can just meet me there."

What a blessing that my kids were already at my in-laws' house.  I didn't have to worry about arranging a safe place for them to go.  My parents were out of town.  We have a running joke that every time they go out of town, something big happens.  This was big.

I met my father-in-law and my husband's hunting buddy, Joel, at the hospital.  We watched as they rolled my husband in on a stretcher.  He was all smiles and joking with the hospital staff.

The paramedics had (wisely) chosen to leave his boot on in an attempt to keep it stable.

As the nurse cut the boot off (much to my husband's dismay, after all, they were his favorite huntin' boots!) I nearly passed out.  His foot was going the wrong direction.  

If you know me, you know that even though I come from a family of medical minded people, that gene skipped me.  I cannot handle blood, teeth, bones, eyes etc...

"Oh!  Let me get the doctor.  Yes. You messed that one up pretty good."

Such tact.

You might want to bring the smelling salts for me, too.

We settled down for the night in the ER.  CAT scans, x-rays, blood work.  Hours of tests.

Meanwhile, the kids were having a ball.  Grandma took them to Target to get new pajamas and a movie.  They thought it was great fun to have an impromptu sleepover. 

By this point the Manly Man was tired of being poked and prodded.  If he weren't in so much pain, I think he would have tried to hobble out of there.  Forget the cast.  Duct tape will work just fine.

As I sat in the family waiting room (thank goodness it wasn't the ER waiting room with blood and broken bones n' such) the tallest doctor in the world came in and introduced himself.  He was the orthopedic surgeon for the hospital.  He also takes care of the local football and hockey teams.  We felt like we were in good hands.

He pulled my father-in-law and me aside and said,

"His leg is in grave condition.  After looking at the x-rays, we realize that it is much more serious than we thought.  I have spoken with my colleagues and we do not feel that we have the ability to perform the kind of surgery he needs."

What?!  We live in one of the biggest cities in NC.  We are at one of the best hospitals in the area.  It's not like we are out in Podunkville!

"If the surgery is not done correctly, he has a high probability of loosing his leg."

Did you say he could loose his leg?!

Suddenly I was standing in a vortex.  I couldn't breathe. 

 My father-in-law was crying.  In the 13 years that I had known him, I had never seen him cry. 

In an instant we went from joking about having to find tall crutches to the reality that he may have to use them.  Forever.

The worst moment was yet to come.  We had to go tell my Manly Man what we had just heard...

(Come back Monday for more of the story)