5/31/2012- I really wanted to keep my blog in chronological order, but the urgency to tell why I am doing this blog is becoming way to strong to ignore. Today was the first day that Scott has been out of the house since his last visit to the operating room (surgery #17) on May 22nd, aside from the doctor appointment yesterday. If you are a dedicated, loving, respectful wife then you know, there is a fine line from being encouraging to nagging. If you ask him, he would say I nag. And maybe I do, but laying around all day and doing nothing but watch dvr'd episodes of Deadliest Catch, Swamp People and Pawn Stars is NOT motivating.

We needed to pick up a prescription from his doctor in Davidson and thought we could visit the race shop after. I had no intention of staying at the shop with him, so I conveniently planned it that I would have to leave to pick up Morgan. Something about "bench-racing" just doesn't grab my attention. But I knew that Scott really needed some extra testoreone in his diet, some knuckle dragging. Hey, that's what guys in racing do, right?

Its quite unique how each individual person in this family has their own version of what happend, their own pain that occured emotionally, mentally, physically and their own questions as to why. Why did this happen to us? I often ask myself, what did I do to deserve this? What did Scott do? What did Matt do? What did Morgan do? Why are we the ones who are suffering? And even more important are the stories of those who were there when it happened. I could ask similar questions of them, as someday, I will. Their experience is just as traumatic as ours. I was not there, Thank God.  My heart hurts for those who were there that day. I can not imagine the pain they felt that day. However, every single person that was there that day were angels, sent from God, to save my husband, my son, my family.

The following is an unedited version of what I wrote four days after Scott's accident. Please keep in mind it is probably not grammatcially correct. It is me trying to document the days as they happened:

Its September 14^th, I think, let me check my phone. Yes, Its September 14^th, 2011 11:17 pm.  It’s been four days since I received the call.  The call,that changed my family’s life forever.  I will never forget that call.  Morgan and I were going about our typical Saturday when “the boys” are gone.  Talked about the football game that Morgan had attended the night before, making plans for her to go to the soccer game on Saturday.  I even convinced her to put down the Black Ops and go get groceries. As with most Walmart’s, if you go early enough, you can avoid the unruly children and the parents who have no clue.  Our trip that day, actually went quite well. You have to understand that I do not shop without a list.  Everything I do has a mission…an outcome, a result.  I do not “wing it”.  Anything that is not on the schedule is an issue.  My issue.  I absolutely hate grocery shopping and will use any excuse under the sun to avoid it.  But, it started out as a good day and things were going our way.

Thinking back now, Walmart was peaceful that day.  I found everything on the list.  Morgan and I made it through in record time.  No waiting at the checkout, the bread didn’t get smashed, the eggs weren’t broken, no screaming children in the checkout. Everything seemed to be going our way.  , After putting away all of our ‘goodies’ (when the boys are gone we get what we want) Morgan went to the shower, blaring her music that I cant stand and having all of it it’s place, I started cleaning.  And I mean cleaning.  The washing machine was running at full tilt.  Every sheet, blanket, pillow case, every stitch of laundry was in the upstairs hallway waiting to be washed.

I was upstairs cleaning in my bathroom when my phone rang.  Naturally, I nearly broke my neck to get to the phone that was downstairs on the charger.  I didn’t recognize the number so I didn’t think much of it.  Then it rang again, almost immediately.  I answered.  On the other end was my son, Matthew, screaming, screaming, screaming.  Screaming and crying so uncontrollably, I could not understand one word.  I remember falling to the floor.  It seemed like 50 feet that I fell.  When I heard the tone in Matt’s voice, the urgency for me to be there, I collapsed.  Literally, collapsed.  I couldn’t stand on my own two feet, but yet I tried to remain strong.  Tried to give Matt direction, and use the Mom voice that would get him the focus and tell me what was wrong.  He couldn’t focus and neither could I..

 I knew it was bad, really bad.  But I wasn’t sure what happened, who was hurt, who crashed, who was in a fight, they were 600 miles away in New Jersey.  A million theories ran through my head in a matter of seconds.  Morgan heard me yelling at Matt to calm down and tell me what was wrong and she came running downstairs.  I yelled at him to put someone on the phone that I could understand, I was screaming for Erin.  I needed to know what was wrong and I knew she would have the composure to tell me.  I will never forget her words, “ Angie, I am so sorry but Scott is hurt, Scott is hurt really bad.”  Time stood still.  I couldn’t breathe.  Morgan is repeatedly asking me what is wrong, I couldn’t answer her.  I was distraught to the point where I thought I would pass out.  I am in North Carolina and what felt like thousands of miles away and I couldn’t get to him, couldn’t get to my son, couldn’t help.  I yelled at Erin, “what am I gonna do , how am I gonna get there!!!”  In her responsible voice, she said, “Angie, sit tight I will figure it out, We will get you here, just hold on!!”  I told her okay and hung up, nearly throwing up the lunch Morgan and I shared just a few hours prior.  I tried to hold it together, I tried to stay calm, I tried to think of what I could do to get there.  I had no idea.

Scott left that fateful morning around 5 am, I think.  Not really sure, because when he would leave for racing, I enjoyed sleeping in knowing that he would text or call me all day with updates and that sometime in the night he would be home, next to me where he always was.

5/30/2012- That first summer of knowing him and his circle, I spent every moment I could being at every party he was at. It didn't matter who my date was, I just knew I had to be there. I actually feel a little guilty that I used certain people in my life to get where I had to be and be with the one who I knew would take care of me forever.

I mentioned earlier that I don't remember much of my past, but I find most of my day is now spent remembering those moments that changed my life in one way or another. I am now overwhelmed with random thoughts and memories and I am trying to piece them together. It's tough trying to write about almost 40 years of events, memories, moments and thoughts and still keep focus on my objective for this whole thing.

One significant moment happened that summer that we first met. I was at Jeff's house, no particular reason, that I recall and I really don't remember who I was even with. At this point though, I was friends with most of the guys and they seemed to always invite me to their parties. I'm sure some of their intentions were not upstanding, but they never bothered me. They all knew who I was there for. It was just a matter of time. (And every single one of them would help me today, at any given moment, if I needed them)

A knock on the door, and there he was.  It was like in the movies, when the superhero comes to save the day. That's what he looked like. In one motion, the door opened, his helmet came off and he glided through the front door. I can feel myself sigh right now with adoration just thinking about it. He mentioned that he just dropped his ex off at the airport. She was on her way to start her new life in Florida. Sara, was Scott's ex, but they dated for nearly five years. They had serious history and I knew he loved her. You could tell that although he was happy for her and her new life, he was disappointed that he had to let her go. I knew then how passionate he was for those he loved and that he would do anything for them, even if it meant letting them go. That made me fall even harder for him.

Like a vulture, I seen his time of need as a time to make my move. And I did. We had so many great times that summer and early fall. I can't tell you all the details, you'll have to buy the book!!

I went off to college that fall to study Pre-Law. I had my entire future figured out at seventeen.  It was only to Albion College, but it was far enough away, that I wasn't involved enough in everything that happened. Scott worked out of town alot and was at the race shop in the evenings and the racetrack on the weekends. I couldn't be there every waking moment. I had school, I had to study,  I had to work, I had responsibilities. Something had to give and it did. I couldn't take the pressure of everything. I knew I was missing out on certain things, mainly Scott and what he was doing. I couldn't balance college and life. So I quit. It really makes me nauseous, resentful and angry to say that. I quit. I quit. I quit. I quit. Quit? Really? Looking back on that, boy that was stupid. How could I have been so smart to be accepted into a private college to study Pre-Law and be so stupid to quit? There is no logical, reasonable or sensible explanation.

 Other than love. That's my answer.

5/29/2012- I told myself when I started this whole blog thing, that I would stick with it every day. It's been three days since my last post and I realize why I told myself that in the beginning. It felt so good to write something everyday. Even if no one else on this planet read it. It felt better writing it, saying it out loud to myself. I actually have felt guilty that I cheated myself the last three days of my personal time. There are not many moments throughout my day that I get that chance. And from now on, I will make that promise to myself. It's my therapy and cheap counseling as my lovely Aunt Jo would say.

I spent that entire summer chasing Scott around like a child. It didn't matter to me where he was, who he was with or what he was doing. I just wanted to be in his presence and maybe someday he would notice me. He finally invited me to hang out at the race shop and go the races that weekend. That's when the racing bug started with me. I knew if I wanted to be with him, I had to go the races. I didn't have the slightest clue about any of it. I didn't understand the desire of being at a racetrack where it was loud, dirty and the bathrooms were atrocious.  Not to mention, the overpriced food. Of which, I am positive, never passed a health inspection. I surely didn't understand the passion that so many people had for the sport. It seemed to me like a lot of time, money, blood, sweat and tears for very little money. No place for a any man, let alone a young lady.

I knew that I had to suck it up, look cute and go along. And I did, 20 years strong now. He always said he wanted me to go with him. But what I couldn't figure out is why? Why would I go to a place that was loud, dirty and disgusting to have you ignore me the entire night because you were busy racing? Only talk to me when you needed me to go to the concession stand for your food, or get you a papertowel or get you a water, or get the lineups for the heat races? It took me a long time to get over that and now I understand my place on the "racing team". It wasn't for us to hang out together and spend quality time, it was just important to him that I be there supporting him and what he did. I get that now.

Thank God, my first few years of this I had support. Scott's step-mom, Cindy, quickly became my best friend, sister and confidant. We felt the same pain.  She had been doing this for several years before I met her. Crazy lady!! Women in racing make some huge sacrifices to support their husbands, I don't think most people understand what goes into this, even at the level of racing we were doing. This was recreation, supposed to fun. But if I had a dollar for every hour spent in the garage, at the track or talking about racing, I would live in one hell of a house, drive an amazing vehicle, have more than one vacation home and someone else would be typing this for me!!

There was one day in particular, that I will never forget. The day I knew he was the one and he felt the same way about me. My dad loves to tell this story even today, 20 some years later. We had "hooked up" several times, on and off, nothing serious. No commitments made. Scott had been working out of town for a while and I hadn't seen him in what felt like forever. I was working at a machine shop, second shift, which sucked. But it was a paycheck and I drove a pretty bad ass Trans Am. It was late, like three in the morning. I was watching tv in my room at my parents house, eating Doritos.  Then came a knock on the door. All I could hear was my dad saying, "Who the fuck are you?" Oh God, I never ran so fast from my room to the front door in all my life. When I got there, my father, in his whitie tighties, was talking to Scott. I am pretty sure Scott was a little intoxicated at the time, but he'll never admit it. That was the first time my dad met the man of my dreamsand his future son-in-law. Scott professed his love for me and my dad let me go outside to hear what he had to say. Mind you, I had Dorito breath the whole time!! He didn't seem to care and neither did I.

The rest is history!!

5/25/2012- It is such a relief to have my husband home again after another hospital stay. Yes, it's hard work for me. But that doesn't matter. At least he is here where I can take care of him. There is nothing scarier than having a loved one in the hospital and under the "care" of people who don't know your history, don't know what you've been through and frankly, most of them don't care. Some would say, "Stay with him 24/7" but unless you have been through a medical ordeal, don't ever say that to someone. There is nothing more aggravating, frustrating and mind-numbing than to sit in a hospital room day in and day out. It's a helpless feeling that I wouldn't wish on my worst emeny. Every moment that I am not with him, is a nauseating, guilt-ridden experience.  But I knew that I needed to take a break, go home to keep my sanity and to take care of him, my family and my house.

I officially met my husband, Scott, the summer after I graduated from high school. Of course, I knew who he was but we had never met.  I remember several times throughout high school listening to other girls who had partied with him and his friends. There was a day that I distinctly remember. My best friend, Barb showed up late for school one morning. She was wearing the same clothes she had on the night before. I went to her locker and asked where she had been. She said she was out all night partying with Scott, Mike, Jeff and I can't remember who else.  All I could think about was being jealous of her and wanting the same experience. She always partied with the cool kids. The kids I wanted to hang out with. He was definetley out of my league.  Not to mention, I always had a boyfriend.

I really don't remember very many days of my childhood. There are very few moments that stick to my memory.  I will never forget the day when we had lost a fellow classmate.  I remember walking through the halls of our high school and there was hardly a soul.  Earlier, they had made an announcement that the buses were ready for those who wanted to attend the memorial. A memorial for a young man, only 17, who was killed in a car accident. The shock amongst the entire high school was evident. The loss that everyone felt was crystal clear. I knew who Matt Maxson was, but had never met him. Just like Scott, I knew who he was. I learned later on in our relationship that Matt was Scott's best friend and cousin.  And this was not Scott's first tragedy.

These few moments in time started my intrigue with Scott. He was truly the All-American guy. Tall, blonde, blue-eyed and a body that did not quit. Once I met him, I knew right away, I couldn't live without him. He was so interesting. Everything about him was addicting. He loved kids, loved horses, loved racing, loved his family. He was passionate about women, passionate about his friends, passionate about life. The first face to face encounter with him, all I could see was his sparkling, bright blue eyes. He could look right through me with his eyes. I've been lost in those blue eyes several times in the past 20 years.

5/24/2012-My second day as a "blogger". Unsure of where to start. How often do bloggers blog? How long should a blog be? Should I start from the beginning? Should I start from today? My intention is to vent. My intention is to open the door for other women (and men) who have experienced or are experiencing what I go through everyday. I feel that no one I know can associate with what I go through everyday. 

My initial intention was to reach out to other racing wives who are dealing with their husbands injuries that occured while racing. Yesterday was a bad day, I needed someone who could say, "I know what you're going through." I Googled and Binged every possible combination to find a website that did that. I could not find one. I felt alone. And then I realized that I needed a bigger support group, I needed to broaden my horizons and look outside of MY box and maybe other wives are looking for the same thing.

There is so much that makes up a racing family. There are sponsors, car owners, drivers, crews, fans, husbands, wives, children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, house work, school, sports, bills...responsibilites.  Balancing all of these people and all of these responsibilites can be a difficult task. Even for the most OCD, Type A personalities.

Our journey together started about 20 years ago. Then slapped us in the face 8 months ago.  My husband is spending his 71st day in a hospital. Alone, bored, irritated, anxious. The 17th surgical procedure seems to be a step in the right direction. Everyone seems optimistic that this time its gonna work and maybe within 6 weeks he can take his first steps. I mean, how many times does it take before it can be done with? Apparantly, more than 17.

The most popular saying is "It's only temporary" and my all time favorite: "Everything is gonna be okay." If I had a nickel for every time I heard those two sayings, I could own Google and Bing. And frankly, I wanna slap anyone who says that to me these days. I believed it at first, but don't anymore. If only there was a definitive date when this nightmare would be over, I could handle that. It would give us something to look forward to, strive towards. I scratch each day off of the calendar. But there is no goal that I'm scratching off for, because we have no idea when it will be over.

I really wanted to write a book and still might. But for now I am using this blog as my therapy. I have 257 days of thoughts, nightmares, intuitions and feelings that need to be told. And if nothing else, I hope it helps someone else.

My life as a Racing Wife: New to blogging, but not new to racing. I have cr...

My life as a Racing Wife: New to blogging, but not new to racing.  I have cr...: New to blogging, but not new to racing.  I have created this blog for a forum for "racing wives".  It doesnt matter what type of car you rac...

5/23/2012-New to blogging, but not new to racing.  I have created this blog for a forum for "racing wives".  It doesnt matter what type of car you race, where you race or what you race on. I need a place where I can get Estrogen and be with women who experience the same things I do.  And Ladies, this is not a man bashing site, just a place to speak your peace. To say what you feel and know that someone feels your pain!! Without the smell of WD-40 or the grease that NEVER comes out in the wash even if you use Simple Green or the orange stuff. 

I have an amazing story to tell you all and I am doing this to get support from others who have been through the same or similar. And tonight, like many other nights in the past 8 months, I am at home with no one to talk to as my husband spends yet another night in the hospital trying to fix what happened on 9-10-11.