Friends Interrupted

If you have one friend, you're rich.  This one friend is different from all others and they come to mind the minute something big happens in your life.  This friend is dear to you.

I am lucky that I have several rich and rewarding friendships with women I have known most of my life.  We have been through so much together - it is amazing our relationships have withstood the test of time.  Many of the women I am truly friends with live so far away from me, it is only through the beauty of Facebook that we can connect and be a part of each other's lives again.

Because of the distance of our homes, we have not always been there at special and important times.  Weddings have been missed, babies have been born and graduations have been celebrated.  Some of my friends are shop owners, mothers, teachers, coaches, specialists and more - but in the end, it's not what we do that keeps our interests alighted, it's how we feel when we are together that makes all the difference in the world.

Arguments and stubbornness have definitely separated us on many occasions. It's like a bad odor that lingers for a few days and all you need to do is clear the air.  A true friend can overlook the grievances and pick up where you left off. Despite the milestones we have missed, the bonds of these friendships are strong enough to span long silences.  If you find yourself with lapses in your relationships, start with gratitude and sweat the small stuff later.

With Bill spending the last months recovering from his coma and subsequent hospitalizations and numerous procedures, there have been a handful of women who have stepped in and taken over from caring for our sons, handling our monthly bills, going to the grocery store, organising meals, running errands, picking up our kids from schools and countless other activities that are needed to keep a bustling household of four boys running.  You stuck by our side and provided our family with both practical and emotional sustenance when we really needed it. There were many times that I knew you had my back - and that was really important to me. To our boys. To Bill. For the amount of time these women put in, I am deeply grateful.  I hope you know that I would do the same for you at a drop of a hat.

From the onset of Bill's coma on October 13, 2007 - I predicted that for each day he lies in rest will equal 1 month of recovery time.  Bill endured a 40-day coma and here we are almost 39 months from that day.  There are no words to describe the multitude of suffering our family dealt with on an hourly basis. It has only been since this recent November that I felt I could keep my head above water. Each and every day, I knew that I could do this I could get through another endless mountain of unexpected setbacks.  Suffering those hellish days - I often went to bed at night wondering if it would be Bill's last night on Earth.

And when I awoke, I brought our kids to school, I looked around for someone to help me through the daily pain. Take me to coffee and listen for 10 minutes. Go to Trader Joe's with me and push the cart.  Sadly, there has been little support in my own neighbourhood.  While Bill was in the hospital, so many wanted to help and do as much as they could.  The support was so overwhelming - people were fighting over duties and tasks. But when the novelty wore off, there was no one there for me.  Soon enough, I heard of many disparaging remarks and criticism for our needs. Nothing is sadder for families who go through illness and death than to find that their friends have abandoned them.  I am definitely more sensitive to how much one can and cannot offer another - be it time, energy or help.  I in no way meant to set off the equilibrium between the give and the take and burden anyone with our needs.  But I guess that our friendship became a drain on you.  My apologies if I stepped over a line.

Willingness to be open about a painful experience can be a priceless gift to give, but it is possible to share too much of yourself.  I know that over the past months, I have been open and have exposed many vulnerable truths about our family. Many have benefited from our experiences.  Many have walked away. Here is where I have learned a valuable lesson - that the true friends in our corner are good listeners, defend our honour, drive out of the way to pick something up. They also do not flee when change occurs - a sign of a good friend is one who stays through it all.  Just because the situation changes, doesn't mean the person has.  And for this, I thank you.

Just Tell Me What to Say

In my ongoing quest to explain everything about Bill's coma and long recovery before the year ends, I would like use my post today to talk about what our children went through while their father was in the hospital and has spent the last three years in recovery.  I think it goes without saying that nothing is more frightening to a child than learning about the illness of a parent. When something as devastating as what our family has been through over the past 40 months occurs, everyone from the spouse, the kids, to even the family dog are affected.  Whether or not you have daily contact with us, no one can escape the ripple effects a serious illness creates.  Face it, it's going to affect you.

I am not saying that how I handled the situation is the best method.  I do not put myself on a high pedestal of pomp and protocol for my mannerisms.  But I do know this, how we handled it was the best way for our family.  How you, as my family member, friend, our child's teacher or coach, shop owner or Twitter follower, choose to deal with it is up to you.

Here's what I did:

• I used examples of other surgeries and medical terms that I knew our sons could handle.  In my explanations, I was open and honest about what was happening on a daily basis and let our sons know that their dad was alive when I saw him the morning and before we went to sleep at night, we spoke to the night nurse who told us he was still alive at bedtime.
• I gave Bill's illness a name and I was open that he was 'in a coma'.  I explained that the body does this to heal and I simplified it with examples of fevers, infections and aches. 
• As the days turned into months, I used the same dialogue and was careful to repeat the concepts over and over again until they became more comfortable with the difficulties of what their father was going through.
• Although I may not have told our sons exactly what was happening every single day, I never lied.  I never made it sound better than it did, I did not add unicorns and rainbows to my descriptions.  I also let them know that I did not have all the answers and that was okay.
• Also, I stuck to their routine. This made them feel safe and secure in the knowledge that things do stay the same even when Dad is in the hospital.

From early on, our kids got it.  Since they were included in a few discussions, they felt a sense of control over a largely uncontrollable situation. They were able to share their feelings both in and outside their home.  As their only active parent for some time, with Bill in the hospital and later when he came home and spent so many days resting, how we dealt with the day-to-day routine established a valuable foundation for our sons' understanding of how their world had changed.  Our sons quickly understood that their father and I still loved and supported them through and through.  We just have to do things a little different than before.

And boy were things different.  And I am certain that the anxiety levels of our children changed as quickly as the sun. Who was going to pick me up from school? When can we go to Micheal's and get supplies for a project?  If I join the basketball team how will I get to practices and who is going to watch my games?  Nothing can prepare you for the myriad of questions and fears that go through a child's head when their world is rocked by death or illness.  I am sure one of our sons will bring up later how they wished something was handled differently. Having this illness happen has been overwhelming, frightening and disruptive all at the same time.  While we tried to ease up on limits and boundaries by making changes that can accommodate all of us, I am very grateful that none of our sons lost it, acted out or blamed anyone else for the chain of events.

Sadly, that has not been the case for our sons and their friends. Children have a very active imagination.  Depending how much they have been exposed to, how they process and decipher information usually leads to children making up the parts they don't understand.  Although our sons were equipped with a workable knowledge of the facts, the people they came in contact with were not. Meaning, they knew what was going on but had no idea how to say the right thing.  In fact, many of them were downright horrible to our sons.

I am not making this up. From burying their heads in the ground, walking around the elephant in the room or swimming in the Denile River, parents in our neighbourhood used unique and inventive responses to their own children's questions.  Here's the thing, I can't write the script for you when you are in your home and you are explaining to your children what has happened to Bill.  But I can tell you this, how you did explain it to them had a direct effect on our children.  And I know this because when your child said to our son things like, "Once your father dies, you'll be poor and have no where to live." or "Your Dad is sick because he is fat." Or my personal favourite, "Your Dad is traveling."  {Huh?}, you just went from being a friend to being a jerk.

Really. Why are our sons being victimised?  Isn't the struggle to overcome this trauma enough for them to bear? The way in which you addressed and answered your children's questions about illness and the possibility of death has everything to do with how you perceived the mystery of illnesses and death to begin with. We have all heard the expression, "carry a lot of baggage".  Well, the topic of death and long-term illnesses are packed away in those bags.  Stowed away until you need to deal with them and the avoidance of death and illness only perpetrates the hushed conversations and superficial drama.  Missing the teachable moment to help a child learn about heady stuff like this in a safe and nurturing environment only sabotages the child's ability to learn to cope.


But after my exposure to so many different people over the last three years, I have found only one way to deal with the devastating behaviour - forgiveness. I see that this is the only way out of this complex and elusive mystery that has boggled my mind for so long.  To continue to live in bitterness will further chain me and my children to the person who actually wounded them.  Our sons know who said these things to them.  Their emotions of pity and low self-worth are reactions to their abusers.  Not to what was going on with themselves, their dad, their family. Obsessing over a quest for vengeance will never amount to anything. After this is done, here's what our sons' have learned - to have self-respect and a trust in God.  And in the end, that is all I can ask for.

In one year and out the other. . .

When I first started scrapbooking, I wanted to cover all of the holidays.  If there was a celebration in our home or with family and friends, I tried to take a photo or two and make sure that the kids books had a layout of it.  Some of the obvious holidays are Easter, 4th of July, Halloween and Christmas.  And then there is Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day and Mother's Day - - but what about New Year's Eve?

Most people, mainly adults attend a big party or celebration on New Year's Eve sans kids.  You wear fancy outfits, cute hats, drink a lot and make some noise.  If you manage to bring along a camera, you probably have many group shots with people you just met and some tricky, sidewards images.

Or if you are like me and Mr. Blue Barn, you stay home and party with the kids.  When the boys were small, there wasn't much to do. We would have a lovely dinner, drink sparkling cider and make some noise.  We got more creative as they grew older by sending hand-written invitations, a noise maker and some candy to start off the celebration. Sometimes the kids barely made it to midnight and I think a few times, we had early dinners and then rang in the New Year at 9:00pm watching the East Coast Feed on the telly.

But there was always one thing I always remembered to do right before midnight and that was to sneak into our kids rooms and take a picture of them sleeping.  Later, I would use these photos to create a scrapbook page.  In order to personalise the tradition, I would add a wish or two for each child either in the layout or on a personal letter attached to the back.  It was a way of capturing a glimpse of  them in that last moment before the new year starts - a memory that can be so quickly forgotten once the new year gets under way.

Here are some examples of my midnight photo sessions:

and of course we have a few of us during the merrymaking:

Whether you are celebrating at home or in the middle of Times Square - grab you camera - take some great shots toasting in the New Year - your kids will enjoy that you captured the memory of this once a year celebration!

Never Too Young. . . or too old

Kids of all ages love to be read to.  Reading to younger kids prepares them for school and gives them opportunities to listen and understand what is being said to them.  Reading to older children helps them understand grammar and correct sentence structure.  Kids and parents can use reading time to bond and solidify a one-on-one communication structure giving your kids the attention they crave.

In this upcoming year, I am going to continue my commitment to our sons and read to them each day.  Taking 20 minutes to read a book or magazine article out loud will peak their curiosity, fire their imagination and inspire their creativity.  I can't think of a better way to spend time with my family.

How it happened. . .

I receive a lot of e-mails and Facebook posts asking what has happened in my husband's life that keeps him in and out of hospitals.  Since the last two months of this three year ordeal are beginning to look promising, I thought it would be a good idea to devote the last week of this year and answer your questions.  I hope that during this process, I can not only gain some concluding insight to his ongoing recovery, but also let many of you know what has happened, how we handled it and why we finally have reached a jumping off place to take a giant step forward.

Three years ago in October, my husband entered the hospital for elective surgery on his intestine to reduce the amount of active diverticulosus.  A simple enough procedure: the removal of the infected intestine and the reconnection would happen in one surgery.  Although the surgery seemed to be a success, in a matter of hours, Bill reached a septic state, lost control of his breathing and slipped into a coma.

What happens when you watch someone that you love lie in a vegetative state, attached to many tubes and reach heights of 105.5 F temperatures?  I know there are many choices that can be made.  I know that I could have made so many of them differently. I know that many would collapse and hand off this burden to another.

But I am not that person.  I knew from the day I saw my husband lying on a bed completely still, bloated and feverish that I had one mission and only one: to keep him alive.

Well, as you know,  I am not a doctor. And there is nothing in my education or experience that prepared me for this task.  Well, there is one thing: I will not be a widow.  My mom was a widow.  Was is the operative word here.  After she struggled for years with my father's cancer and subsequent death, a year later, she also died.  Both of them were taken from me before my 12th birthday.  Yea. That's not happening to our kids.

So there I stood, in the hospital, looking at my dying husband, and my belief in one person brought forth all the strength I needed to get through this ordeal. The truth is, this part was hard.  But it wasn't about pleading and begging and praying to no end, I made a commitment and no matter how difficult the struggle, Bill was going to live and we will grow old together. Any other person may have looked at this moment as a crisis of faith.  Not me. I seemed to have an overwhelming moment of peace and calmness which allowed me to think clearly.  I made important decisions.  I educated myself and forced the doctors to become more accountable for their actions.  I commanded daily reports and I justified my torment by making them work harder.

For the 40+ days Bill was in a coma, he was listed on the "M & M" report.  It stands for Morbidity and Mortality.  This is an in-house report for hospitals to use to analise errors and have peer reviews.  The goal of this report is learn from their mistakes, modify their behaviour and to prevent repetition of errors leading to complications.  The people who gather to discuss the M & M report are non-punitive and they try to focus on improved patient care.  The report is not posted in the elevator and no doctor would ever tell you that your family member is on the report.  It makes the patient sound more like a case to rectify instead of a patient to heal.

Herein lies one of several obstacles that I hurdled through during my mission to keep my husband alive. My husband will not become a statistic in your evaluation process which contributes to the standardisation of your hospital's practices. Yea. You heard me. No data will be collected and reported.  Forget about your health and safety topics and heal this patient. Let's have some good old-fashioned medical practices starting with a little tender loving care.

Not surpirsingly, my husband did acquire numerous infections while he lay in a coma starting with the failed breathing, high temperatures and sepsis, he also had pneumonia.  He also suffered and not in this order: kidney failure, Clostridium difficile, Acinetobacter, Staphylococcus aureus and Necrotizing fascitis. At one point, we were all required to wear hazmat gear and masks. Needless to say, I didn't wear one.  If Bill woke up during those days of yellow gowns, he wasn't going to see me in one of them.

Fast forward to November and after 4 days without a fever,  Bill awakes from his coma. Luckily, this was also the first time that our sons came to visit him in ICU. I can only think of how handy God was at this time - to awaken him from his 40 day coma - and give comfort to his children who love and honour him. Joyous as it sounds, it was the beginning of the dark, hard and lonely days of recovery ahead of us that changed every fiber in our being.

After a total of 65 days in the hospital, Bill went home.  And even that day was a struggle, he had a slight fever and his doctors had already left for their Thanksgiving festivities. One of the on-call doctors wanted to keep him until the fever broke.  I started screaming AMA - against medical advice - until thankfully,  the naphrologist arrived and signed him out. 

From the day that Bill came home, his life completely changed.  Wearing a colostomy bag, taking antibiotics, having blood drawn, medications for fever, pain and high blood pressure, my husband continued to be a patient. He was moved into the living room and round the clock at-home care started the minute he got home.  In a matter of weeks, he was able to get around, be a part of household activities and talk with friends.  But not every day was simple and routine.  For the most part, it was a struggle and a hardship to keep up with anything.  Just when you thought the horrible was over, a setback would occur.  And in the course of three years, Bill has suffered plenty of setbacks.

I don't want to take up more paragraphs describing each one, but here's the list: on-going monitoring and care of the infections he acquired in the hospital, the process of repairing and rebuilding his immune system, 3 hernias, removal of colostomy bag, reattachment of the colon and hernia repair, methods to improve lung capacity, diagnosis and treatment of sleep apnea, metabolic acidosis which almost took his life with a blood glucose level of 700 mg/dL, hypogonadism and hormone replacement therapy, 4 endodontic therapies, more hernias with a surgery to repair a total of 15 incisional hernias followed by the infection and abscess within the drain hole from the hernia surgery which is still healing after one year.

Yes, it has been one year since Bill has been home from a hospital or had any invasive medical procedures. And he is still not fully recovered from the surgery he had on Christmas 2009.  It has been over three years since the first day of his coma and over 8 surgeries and countless medical procedures.   It has only been since October of this year that he has had more and more time with his family and less time dealing with his illness, his recovery and the day to day stress his body had suffered trying to stay alive.  This past year has been one of so many ifs and whats - I don't know that there will ever be an answer to satisfy the whys.  I know that Bill was saved for a reason and as his wife, I will be by his side when he finds out.

So, this is my story. Thanks for joining me on this journey towards moving onward and forward. We all have a story to share about an experience that has affected us and no one story is more important than the other.  Lately, I am meeting more and more people who take a moment to share with me their stories and I understand more as to why and how it shapes their lives. Through your stories, I am inspired. And restored.  I hope this provides a few answers - if not, ask me more questions and I will try to answer them the best I can.  And thank you for being here.

A Prayer For Sunday

For the First Time in Three Years

We have Bill home with us at Christmas and he helps William 

with the last ornament for the tree on Christmas Eve.

May all the joy of Christmas be yours.  

Happy Christmas from at the Blue Barn.

Wrap it Up!

Since my college days as a sales associate at Bloomingdale's, wrapping presents has always been very important to me.  Whenever a customer needed a gift wrapped, I was off and running.  Mastering the skill of wrapping gifts became an art for me and it is one of the most requested services offered at the Blue Barn. I just love a pretty package. Whether stacked under the tree or presented at a gathering to a friend, set the tone for a memorable gift exchange with creatively wrapped gifts.

One of the more popular craft nights at the Blue Barn is "Tag Night".  You don't have to be an experienced crafter to create beautiful tags for your holiday gifts.  Many of them can be created using clip art and computer printed greetings.  You can step it up a notch and embellish with a pile of goodies and ribbon.  Once you are done, you have a big stash of tags to make holiday presents stand out.

Start with these:

With just a few simple shapes, an embellishment or two, 

punches, sentiment and Stickles glitter, you have a tag!

Another service at the Blue Barn is holiday cards.  From the novice crafter to the experienced, let your holiday card be witty or classically elegant, modern or traditional.  The design should be something you imagine would be an asset to the recipient's homes, something that might magnify a mantel - not detract from it.  As always, I am ready to consult on your holiday card but you are not limited to a hand crafted greeting.  Boxed holiday cards with a special note is not only one of the simplest gifts to give, it's also one of the best. There are so many great stationer's that carry impressive engraved, letterpress-printed and flat cards.  Add a photograph for extra personalisation. My pet quirk, the envelope.  I will search high and low for the right one. . . can you tell from this year's batch?

A nod to Mr. Pink with our pink envelopes.

In our house, under the tree is filling up with special gifts and treats.  Our kids are a little older and will need an extra bit of fun come Christmas morning.  Most of our presents are delivered by Santa in the wee hours of the morning, but this year, a few gifts have been left by some popular celebs {wink, wink}.

 

Can you guess what's inside?  The gift giver is the clue!!

Hope these playful nods to a traditional Christmas inspire you to make your own delightful creations and remember to add a bit of frolic to your holiday!

'Tis the Season - Christmas Books to Read

The tree is up, you've started a fire and the kids want some hot chocolate. Around this time of year we also get out our stash of holiday books; their beautiful (or, sometimes, comical) illustrations and unfailingly heart-warming stories add some welcome cheer as the days grow shorter and darker and colder. Here are a few of our family favourites:

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever
by Barbara Robinson

One of the funniest books ever written about Christmastime.  When I read this book as a child, I secretly wanted to be Imogene Herdman - man, did she have sass!  This is also a great book to act out - copies of the script can be found on the internet.

Christmas in Wales
edited by Dewi Roberts

A great resource for families who celebrate the holidays as they do on the British Isles.  Full of poems, stories and traditions, this book helps me out each Christmas.

Stories Behind the Great Traditions of Christmas

by Ace Collins

Found this book during a school book fair and was really impressed with the wealth of resources it provided.  At the time, I set about and read one tradition per night hoping to answer the myriad of questions the kids had.  In the end, we wound up adopting a bunch of new traditions and solidifying the ones we loved.

 Harvey Slumfenburger's Christmas present
by John Burningham

As we wait for the arrival of Santa Claus, this is a humbling story of the little Santa who could. Neither rain nor snow nor sleet nor hail nor transportation mishaps of any type will stop him from delivering that last gift. It’s part of Burningham’s genius to end his long saga of misadventures with just the right question about Harvey’s present: “What do you think it was?”

The Nutcracker 

by E.T.A. Hoffman

One of several copies of this classic ballet that we own - - this is the long, extended version which tells the original story from beginning to end. This book needs to be read over several weeks, since it's original form illustrates a vivid eye-opening tale of a girl whisked away to the land of toys.  No time to read? Go see the ballet!

The Legend of Saint Nicholas by Demi

Started reading this book when our sons were older and we read it on St. Nicholas' Eve before we left our shoes out for small presents. By the time we started reading this, there were a few contradictions in our sons' social set about the existence of St. Nick, our sons were able to learn the greatest strength of the tale in this book's straightforward, affectionate depiction of a person who, by his deep love for the young and the needy, embodies the spirit of Christmas.

What a treat it is, after a couple of long days of shopping, wrapping and exams, to sit and listen to my boisterous boys read Christmas books with such pleasure and feeling, and making sure to show every affectionately detailed picture and illustration. This nice experience inspired today's post–which I hope will inspire you to tell me about your favorite Christmas books.

A Prayer for Sunday

A Prayer for Sunday

Saturday Pictures From at the Blue Barn

New baby bunnies... 

we are thinking of naming them Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar

The eve of Saint Nicholas' Day

Measuring a tree . . . on Saint Nicholas' Day 

Baked goodies for the Naval Officers and Instructors

 Something simple for the dessert table at the Sea Cadet Potluck.

A Prayer For Sunday