11/18/12- Reading my last blog made me look a bumbling idiot!! I have realized that I should not wait so long in between writing. There are a plethora of emotions that occur on a daily basis in this household. When I read what I have written, I realize that I am trying to pack a million things into one post to keep everyone up to date and that's impossible. One item I  put on my Christmas list was a voice recorder. I could be getting ready for work, or in the shower or folding laundry or mowing the lawn and think of something I really want to say. But at the end of the day, those thoughts and emotions crash into one blurry mess. My daily life is exhausting to say the least. Tired with a capital T, doesn't even touch the surface.

I made the decision to go back to work this summer. After spending several months at home as a caregiver, nurse, wife and mother, it really wasn't what I wanted. Although I am proud of myself for stepping up to the plate and providing care (extraordinary care, if I do say so myself) to Scott and tried to be the "PTA" mom that I thought my kids wanted, I was miserable. After all, the whole purpose of moving to North Carolina was to benefit everyone, not just Scott and his career. I seen moving to a larger city as a chance at bigger, better and more profitable opportunities for everyone in my family.

I am a self taught guru in business, mainly in the dental world. I don't mind tooting my horn on this one and I am pretty sure I have several dentists who will back me on this. I have taken my 20 years of experience and made myself an employee that dental offices cannot afford NOT to have. I know I can make it happen in any town.

In May, I went to over 20 dental offices. I dropped my resume off, gave my spiel and hoped someone would call, even if it was temporary or fill in. I was still working from home for the dental office I was originally hired at but knew that it was not the place for me. I am still to this day grateful for the chance they gave me and the opportunity to work from home while I took care of Scott, but I knew deep down they were not the right fit for me. Days went by and no calls. Weeks went by and nothing. My hopes lingered when months went by. I started to convince myself that maybe this was my destiny. To be at home, take care of Scott and the kids. I almost felt like maybe this was God's way of saying that Scott would never get better and I would have to be there to care for him.

When my phone finally rang and the person on the other end wanted to interview me, I was ecstatic. It all happened so quickly. The phone interview led to a personal interview that led to a working interview. All within a matter of days. They were almost willing to pay my asking wage and I was so desperate to have my life back it probably wouldn't have mattered what the offer was. Luckily for me, it was a satisfactory offer.   It's actually comical that the day the business manager from the other office called to tell me they had found someone to do my job in house, was the day I was hired at another office. I should say, within a matter of minutes.

 Ironic how life works sometimes. Ironic, indeed. But after the excitement of a new career opportunity, I realized that I had been fired. Fired? What? Are you serious? You called to fire me? I have never in all my years been fired from anything. Let alone some stupid job. I was devastated. How dare they fire me? I empowered that practice to rebuild itself from devastation and made them more profit in the 6 months that I was there than they had seen in years. Fired? Fired. So happy and yet so angry all within a matter of minutes. Seems to be the daily course of emotions these days.

I struggle everyday with the decision to go back to work. And it doesn't help that I get the feeling that my family doesn't support that decision. But honestly, who is benefiting from me not working? I surely was not happy being a housewife or anything near that. I cannot and will not do that. I don't know how. I don't know how to be successful at that. I had never done it until this year and apparantly failed misearably at it. I guess it's not my nature. It never has been and probably never will be. I only took 4 weeks of maternity leave when my children were born. I know that work and money aren't everything, but for me, it's all that I am good at. I have not succeeded in any other aspect of  my life other than my career.  I need my own personal success and having a clean house, all the laundry done, dinner on the table and chauffeuring kids is not who I am.

Like my Dad always said, "You work hard and you're house isn't dirty, it's lived in." And I am okay with that.

11/12/12-I can honestly say that today had been the best day I have had in, I don't know,  a very long time. Surgery number 20 took place today and we finally have some amazing results to report. After 428 days of pain and suffering, both mental and physical, we have turned the corner on this ordeal. We are now in the driver's seat. I haven't felt this positive about anything in my life since we made the decision to move to North Carolina to pursue Scott's dreams.

I feel like I am jumping the gun a little with telling everyone the results from today. But God Damn, I am too jacked up to not spread the word. I promise to fill in the holes as you read. Just keep listening!!

I used to love the season of Fall. We had so many amazing times camping, horse back riding, sitting by the open fires. Raising our kids with camping, hunting, fishing and learning Michigan's history. Even when it was raining or it was too cold outside we could always come up with something to occupy the time. Sometimes we would play games, like Yahtzee and Skipbo. And in highly competetive times, we played serious games of Aggravation. There was never a dull moment. I could write a book based off of those stories. I think that is one thing my family misses the most. We have missed out on the Fall seasons of camping. That was definitely not the original plan.

On October 21, 1995, I married my best friend. I married the love of my life. I promised to God and everyone there that I would love, honour and cherish him in sickness and in health, in richer or poorer, til death do us part. On October 21, 2011, I celebrated that day by getting him home to Charlotte and this is what I wrote:

I don’t think I will ever forget the day we returned to Charlotte.  I was under an enormous amount of stress, so worried about Scott and if they would take him to the right place, if they would know what pain meds he needed, if they would know how to raise his left leg when he needed it, if he would have enough pillows and blankets, if  he would get his antibiotics..the list is endless. Not only was I worried about him, but I was worried about Matt and I traveling back to Charlotte.  I had a rental car for the first time in my entire life. I had to drive to the Philadelphia airport and figure it out on my own.  After the third loop trying to find the Nationwide Rental lot, which was right in front of my face, I finally listened to Matthew.  It was to the point that he was yelling at me to turn left.. Once I took two seconds and worried about the two of us, I could focus. I was so scared. This moment was totally out of my comfort zone and totally out of my control.  I had never done this before, any of it.  I couldn’t help Scott in Charlotte if I couldn’t figure out the stupid rental car situation.  I would  miss my flight.

Scott was supposed to arrive in Charlotte at 12:30 on October 21^st.  Our wedding anniversary.  I guess that was my gift, to get out of New Jersey and back to Charlotte. Due to the lack of organization and communication from the "transport team" (which was a joke in itself), Matt and I had no chance to get a flight that would put us there by then.  There would be no one there to greet him, no one to make sure he was safe, no one to make sure he was even at the right facility.  Even after the enourmous effort from Ann, Ray's assistant, there was not one nonstop flight from Philadelphia to Charlotte in the time frame we needed.  That sent me into an anxiety attack that I had never experienced before.  I couldn’t be there to help him and no other loved one could get there in time either.

Matt and I had to travel from Philadelphia, PA to Norfolk, VA for a 40 minute layover and then to Charlotte. We had some how accumulated so much luggage that we had to check two of our bags and carry on what felt like forty five.  I had my purse, my laptop, Matt’s backpack (which was filled with DVD’s from the Jersey trip), and a small duffel bag.  As most of you know, those short commuter flights do not accommodate that excess and most people are not patient.  I mean really, pay the $25 and check the bag!  Actually, I know exactly why we had more to bring home than when we left, I had no clue how serious this was and only packed enough for 2 days. I spent 41 days there and thank you to certian people, I had attained more clothing.  I honestly thought that they would cast his legs and send him home.  I had no idea the living nightmare I would face.

I also remember clearly, coming back to our house from the airport.  Willy, Ray's nephew, was on standby to pick us up. The plane finally landed. I texted Willy to let him know that we were on the ground.  Naturally, I was extremely anxious to get off the plane and into the car.  It was at least a twenty minute drive from the airport and a thirty minute drive from our house to the hospital.  But I knew that my daughter , Morgan was waiting for us to get home.  So, I had to go home first and see her.  We had spent so many days apart.  I felt “out of loop”, like she wouldn’t remember me.  I had to see her.

I hate, hate, hate flying.  Traveling in general, especially on an airplane, in an airport, relying on someone to be there.  I could have crawled out of my skin. I was having tunnel vision, wanted to be home, wanted to get Scott.  Matt and I finally get off the plane, find our way through the airport to baggage claim and wait.  Most of the screens were not working due to construction.  I had no idea which baggabe claim to go to.  We waited. Matt was so patient, wanting to help out.  My bag came through and several others.  I think it was a connecting flight from Charlotte to another city. Waiting still, Matts bag never appeared.  Are you serious? Now, of all of times to lose baggage.  Poor Willy was circling Charlotte Internnational Airport waiting.  I texted him and told him that Matts bag never came out and to sit tight and I would text him when we found it. Thirty minutes passed, three airport employees and waiting in line at customer service finally gave us answers.  The bag was left in New Jersey and it would be delivered to our home.

 I apologize, my thoughts are all over place. I  have so much to say, so much to be thankful for..I don't know where to go with this, please be patient..............

11/11/12  I have struggled with writing or not writing. It came to a point that I had some serious emotions that I wasn't sure how to deal with or if I wanted them to be public. There are times that I am so angry, I could rip my own skin off. There are times when I am so hurt that I could go to sleep and never wake up. There have been some "revelations" in my life the past few months that have encouraged me to keep writing. The worst part about putting it on paper (and online)  is reliving certain days, events and feelings, that I am not sure I want to relive anymore. A part of me wants to forget about it, ignore it and move forward. But the intelligent, sensical side of me tells me to deal with it or I will never be able move forward.

I read a draft that I wrote on August 30th and never posted. That must have been a really bad day for me. This is what I wrote but never posted publicly:

I cannot believe that in ten days, it will be the one year anniversary of Scott's accident. I hate using the word 'anniversary' because it surely is not something that I want to celebrate in any way. I also cannot believe that it is not over. I never would have thought that 365 days later we would still be no further ahead. And I say that with negativity and my piss poor attitude. And I know, we have made leaps and bounds in the last three hundred and fifty some days, but I want to know when we will see the finish line. When will the flagman wave that checkered flag and say, 'You win!'? When is my family going to be back to the way we used to be? Actually, I know the answer to that. We will never be how we used to be. We will forever have to make adjustments to our normal and actually that is really okay with me, I think.

I kick myself in the ass because I have not held true to my own commitment to myself to write every day. I cannot express enough how writing this blog has been my personal therapy. There have been so many events, some big and some small, that have happened since my last post. I guess I just lost what was important to me. Even if not one person reads it. It doesn't matter. It's kind of like when you want to say something to someone on Facebook or Twitter: you type it, think about it, then hit the delete button. Well, I am not hitting the delete button anymore.

I am afraid of myself though. In the aspect, that when I am angry or hurt or frustrated, I cannot hide it. There is nothing fake about me. I cannot fake happiness for more than, let's say 30 seconds. Oh and there's that "red faced" thing that I get when I am pissed. It's a dead give-a-away when I am mad. I hate that!!

Everytime I try to get back any resemblance of normalcy in this family, it is taken away. I often ask myself why do I do what I do? I hate the fact that every decision I make seems to be the wrong one. But then I find myself asking, what if?

I went to church today for the first time since we moved to North Carolina and the first time in several years. Our daughter, Morgan has been attending this church for several months with one of her dear friends, Jordan. She has asked every Sunday for us to go and every Sunday I have said no. I realized today why I have been telling her no all this time. Let me get something straight first. I believe in being a Christian, I believe Jesus died for our sins and I believe that living the life of a Christian will lead to greater things.

I am used to the small community churches, where everyone knows everyone. You grab the hymnal and pretend to sing along with the elderly woman, usually the Preacher's wife, playing the piano. After you heard of salvation and damnation, all in the same surmon, you would come together for a potluck. I was almost forced as a child to go to church every Sunday. Not by my parents but by my grandmother, Norine. If you wanted to hang out with her later and do things like go shopping, be at the pool and eat a fantastic meal, that was the price you paid. Grandma Norine always made us dress up and be on our best behavior. If we were real good during the service, we were rewarded with what us kids called "Granny Green Gum". Essentially the Extra mint gum. She was a God-fearing woman who lost her life to cancer at an early age. Her death started my questioning of God's intentions. Someone so devoted to church, community and family. It just didn't seem fair.

I went today with good intentions. I was actually looking forward to some quality time with Morgan. It's been a trying week (month, year). I was amazed that pulling into the church was a major production. They have someone directing traffic to get into the parking lot!! I knew this was not the church I was accustomed to and frankly. I was a little nervous. Once we entered the building, Morgan asked if I wanted to get a coffee. "No" was my immediate response. I had never been to a church that had a concession. They had 3 big screen televisions with advertisements for upcoming events and we were not seated in old wooden church pews but comfortable padded chairs. Of course, Morgan wanted to be in the front row. There was a stage that clearly was set up for a band. On one of the screens was a countdown to the start of the service. One by one, the band members came out to the stage, one not wearing shoes. The anxiety was building just for the fact that I had no idea what was going to happen. The music started and there wasn't a little old lady at the piano. There were trumpets, guitars, drums, keyboards and singers!

The surmon was about politics. The pastor did an amazing job teaching the congregation that your political views and religious views should not determine one or the other. That you should not hate someone based on their political agenda. And that no matter who is in office, who our elected officials are, it doesn't matter because God would always be King. And God will direct those leaders' hearts to do what is best for this country.

As he was preaching, I could feel myself getting more and more anxious. I could feel the air blowing on me but I was starting to sweat. I felt nauseous and I couldn't stop the tears any longer. He had asked the congregation to get up and take communion and accept Jesus. I couldn't move and yet I wanted to get up and run out of there as fast as I could.

I agreed with everything he was saying, but I wanted to stand up and yell, "Why, God? Why my husband, why me, why us?"