Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) by Hartley
A font of information to help anyone with SPD.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Sponges plain & lemon
When Dad landed in his room last night, he was hooked up to twenty-eleven hoses coming out of & going into places Dad didn't know existed. Thank God his nurse was down to earth & able to throw back whatever he threw at her. He told her I was torturing him, wouldn't let him drink water, refused to give him ice chips...She carried on with him & was funny along with him.
Oddly enough, when he was brought to his room post-op, he was offered ice chips. As hours passed, they brought him a small cup of water to given sparingly. Somewhere between sparingly & 3am, I unwittingly gave him drinks as his first nurse told me to & twice his tubing overflowed courtesy of his eldest daughter.
Throughout the night, he has been in pain with little to no rest as differing machines sounded off through the dark of night, telling his nurses when he pulled a tube loose by movement or wasn't breathing deeply enough.
Dad has gradually become more mobile-with or without the nurses' permission. He tried to talk the nurses into going ahead and letting him walk a little to which they all emphatically thwarted his attempts at freedom. He charmed his way into lemon sponge sabs to moisten his mouth a moment ago, making me laugh as he told his nurse completely straightfaced that anything had to be better than plain sponge sabs.
Meanwhile back in the jungle, the skies are grey & rain gently falls as Dad & I watch ESPN & he tells me again not to text and drive. In the in-between, we both get still and almost...catch that ever elusive three second nap.
God love us everyone. :)
Oddly enough, when he was brought to his room post-op, he was offered ice chips. As hours passed, they brought him a small cup of water to given sparingly. Somewhere between sparingly & 3am, I unwittingly gave him drinks as his first nurse told me to & twice his tubing overflowed courtesy of his eldest daughter.
Throughout the night, he has been in pain with little to no rest as differing machines sounded off through the dark of night, telling his nurses when he pulled a tube loose by movement or wasn't breathing deeply enough.
Dad has gradually become more mobile-with or without the nurses' permission. He tried to talk the nurses into going ahead and letting him walk a little to which they all emphatically thwarted his attempts at freedom. He charmed his way into lemon sponge sabs to moisten his mouth a moment ago, making me laugh as he told his nurse completely straightfaced that anything had to be better than plain sponge sabs.
Meanwhile back in the jungle, the skies are grey & rain gently falls as Dad & I watch ESPN & he tells me again not to text and drive. In the in-between, we both get still and almost...catch that ever elusive three second nap.
God love us everyone. :)
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
And for that
Mom & Dad called the hospital this morning before leaving home & were told that yes, the tool needed for his procedure was there. After an iv was started, we were informed that no...the tool wasn't there because it was in use @ St. Vincent Hospital in Little Rock & should be on it's way by noon.
He was in surgery almost three full hours. That little tiny voice inside told me it was a good three hours. His dr. felt that he'd done alot with the tool, cleaning out the gallbladder bed, removing lymph nodes near the area as well as a partial piece of the lining of the liver. He mentioned feeling good about it, but cautioned that although rare, this form of cancer is aggressive & that further actions would begin after his pathology report came in Thursday. We'd be meeting an oncologist, (throwing in the fact that this type cancer does NOT respond to chemo-stopping my heart almost dead in it's tracks) & she'd set up a plan for aggressive treatment.
Mom went home a few hours ago behind Dan & Mich, I'm sitting up in my comfy recliner with my feet in the not-so-comfy bed chair, covered in a couple blankets while I run the prayer loop I've been praying in in my head & heart since I found out. I'm sure all the angels & God Himself are exhausted from hearing my prayers pouring straight into heaven on this midnight flight.
Aggressive and cancer should be stricken from the English language, banished as the bad words they are for describing the horrible pain and suffering they depict. Anything that horrendous, spiteful & ugly shouldn't be a sentence regarding my Dad or anyone else I love or dislike. No one should have to live a life sentenced to pain, weakness & sickness.
I know I'm selfish. I know I don't share well with others when it comes to any minute possibility of losing someone I love that I'm not ready to. No way. UhUh. We didn't sign on for this. I would love to rail at the heavens, scream and thrash and kick on the floor, but am afraid if I were to start, I mightn't finish for a very long time. I refuse to give in to that.
Yet...
that same tiny voice slows my roll, jerks me out of any mode of fear I find myself in. It reminds me of the saying I posted on my FB earlier...
Faith & fear cannot occupy the same space. Goodbye fear.
My God is wonderful, loving, a kind God determined to teach lessons even in the midst of pain, laughter in the midst of sorrow & love in the midst of fear. His time may not be mine, but His own. His healing might not be as I would heal, but His own way. The agony of watching someone hurt this badly that I love as I love my Dad breaks my heart, hurts my soul & infuriates me.
I don't have answers, but I have the belief that God will send angels to stand guard over Dad if I get still tonight or my eyes close in the chair beside me. I have the power of prayer, the strength of belief and a multitide of love coming from family and friends from across the nation as well as other countries and being sent by the multitude to heavenly mailboxes on high.
And for this and many other things, I am thankful.
Thankful that we've had the best Dad, provider, co-parenting team of anyone-I might be partial, but so might we all. I've had tears, laughter, love and family ties that some might not have had the chance to experience. With many of my close friends having lost a parent to cancer, diabetes, any ailment that has marked the passing of a great and shining light, our circle grows tighter around those that remain.
Thankful that our many family members and closest friends are beside us on bended knee, eyes closed, lips moving quietly or maybe ringing out loudly, hearts raised to Heaven as one, praying for Dad to be healed. There's a comfort in knowing we are prayed over as a family, wrapped in tenderness and love by people that we've known all our days from all walks of life and all corners of the world.
I am eternally grateful for the memories we have together from Chicago in Little Rock to Motley Crue in Shreveport to tea parties in our living room to pink pathers at the family business to double pump jump shots to traveling the western half of the states and so many more that dance fleetingly through my heart.
I'm thankful that we have been given the honor of knowing of the cancer before the holidays because the blessings were great this Christmas in our family. We shared laughter, love and stories...grilled burgers and gave thanks, albeit silently, for each of us there together as a collective whole, one family, many lives intertwined.
My God is wonderful, loving, a kind God determined to teach lessons even in the midst of pain, laughter in the midst of sorrow & love in the midst of fear. His time may not be mine, but His own. His healing might not be as I would heal, but His own way. The agony of watching someone hurt this badly that I love as I love my Dad breaks my heart, hurts my soul & takes my breath away.
I don't have answers, but I have the belief that God will send angels to stand guard over Dad if I get still tonight or my eyes close as I sit in the chair beside him. I have the power of prayer, the strength of belief and a multitide of love coming from on high.
For this, too, I am thankful.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Sheer Fortitude
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Christmas this year was poignant, softly, quietly the most beautiful Christmas i can recall. We had a house full of eight, then eleven, then seventeen. Amazing that such a small house turned into a home full of shining, beautiful love with new memories of stockings decorated at the kitchen table, five and one jumping on the trampoline, laughter spilling through the house in tandem and fantastic grilled burgers for Christmas Eve dinner.
Equally amazing was the perfectly timed adjustment in medication for Blue that made his entire holiday his shining moment...the entire day before the Eve of Christmas, Christmas Eve as well as Christmas day, the holiday began and ended perfectly with him declaring...I'm getting a hold on this holiday thing, Mom. :)
I celebrated this special Christmas with the most wonderful man on earth, my husband of three months and three weeks, our six healthy, beautiful children, my parents, my sister andr fiancee and thier beautiful almost year old beautiful baby girl as well as my husbands' parents, a fantastic pair of inlaws.
As I prayed throughout each moment for healing for my dad, I appreciated each small thing I was blessed with...our combined family, the sideways laughter, the excitement in thier voices as they asked from 7 am on Christmas Eve morning, can we open just one now? I gave thanks then as I do now, smiling, remembering that we are *not* alone, whether near or far, in heart. Miles calibrate distance, never taking into account the strength of love, the sheer fortitude of those that love truly and deeply.
We were blessed with two of the greatest friends on earth, both sacrificing a portion of thier Christmas Eve morning to take a myraid of family pictures for us. They braved elements of freezing temperatures and freezing snow around thier own Christmas preparations to indelibly etch in time pure love, unseen strength and raw courage tightly corded together by family.
Christmas Eve night, we went to "the house", my parents' home that will ever be Christmas Eve's home in both my sister's and my heart. We enjoyed perfectly grilled burgers, banana pudding and love overflowing. As presents were opened, laughter flew from corner to corner as orbs oversaw the proceedings, gently through the night. There were times when I could almost feel both Grans (D & G) watching over thier babies (my dad & mom), us, Uncle Bob nearby laughing with us, watching over his Wooligan, my mother.
Every day should be as radiant as was Christmas Eve this year. The quiet peace, the thankfulness that we, a family unit, made wonderful Christmas memories although not mentioned, yet not overlooked at any given moment.
The last few days, my eyes, my heart & my soul have been lifting my dad and mom in prayer, asking for healing, asking for no pain, asking for everything to be perfect for him tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning, we gather at the hospital as many people across our family and friendship lines gather in heart and soul to pray unceasing for his doctor to find no more cancer and that if he does, it will be taken care of quickly...painlessly, praising and glorfying His name.
As time draws nigh, I pray for the healing, peace, laughter and love that have brought us this far to take us into a new year together, family in our hearts, friends by our sides, healthy, happy and one.
Christmas this year was poignant, softly, quietly the most beautiful Christmas i can recall. We had a house full of eight, then eleven, then seventeen. Amazing that such a small house turned into a home full of shining, beautiful love with new memories of stockings decorated at the kitchen table, five and one jumping on the trampoline, laughter spilling through the house in tandem and fantastic grilled burgers for Christmas Eve dinner.
Equally amazing was the perfectly timed adjustment in medication for Blue that made his entire holiday his shining moment...the entire day before the Eve of Christmas, Christmas Eve as well as Christmas day, the holiday began and ended perfectly with him declaring...I'm getting a hold on this holiday thing, Mom. :)
I celebrated this special Christmas with the most wonderful man on earth, my husband of three months and three weeks, our six healthy, beautiful children, my parents, my sister andr fiancee and thier beautiful almost year old beautiful baby girl as well as my husbands' parents, a fantastic pair of inlaws.
As I prayed throughout each moment for healing for my dad, I appreciated each small thing I was blessed with...our combined family, the sideways laughter, the excitement in thier voices as they asked from 7 am on Christmas Eve morning, can we open just one now? I gave thanks then as I do now, smiling, remembering that we are *not* alone, whether near or far, in heart. Miles calibrate distance, never taking into account the strength of love, the sheer fortitude of those that love truly and deeply.
We were blessed with two of the greatest friends on earth, both sacrificing a portion of thier Christmas Eve morning to take a myraid of family pictures for us. They braved elements of freezing temperatures and freezing snow around thier own Christmas preparations to indelibly etch in time pure love, unseen strength and raw courage tightly corded together by family.
Christmas Eve night, we went to "the house", my parents' home that will ever be Christmas Eve's home in both my sister's and my heart. We enjoyed perfectly grilled burgers, banana pudding and love overflowing. As presents were opened, laughter flew from corner to corner as orbs oversaw the proceedings, gently through the night. There were times when I could almost feel both Grans (D & G) watching over thier babies (my dad & mom), us, Uncle Bob nearby laughing with us, watching over his Wooligan, my mother.
Every day should be as radiant as was Christmas Eve this year. The quiet peace, the thankfulness that we, a family unit, made wonderful Christmas memories although not mentioned, yet not overlooked at any given moment.
The last few days, my eyes, my heart & my soul have been lifting my dad and mom in prayer, asking for healing, asking for no pain, asking for everything to be perfect for him tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning, we gather at the hospital as many people across our family and friendship lines gather in heart and soul to pray unceasing for his doctor to find no more cancer and that if he does, it will be taken care of quickly...painlessly, praising and glorfying His name.
As time draws nigh, I pray for the healing, peace, laughter and love that have brought us this far to take us into a new year together, family in our hearts, friends by our sides, healthy, happy and one.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
These are the days
The morning began at a dead run, warming water in the mircowave as I do often for my tea & it lit up like the Fourth of July, sparking and the whole nine yards. After narrowly averting the kitchen exploding, I gatheried all our eggs in one basket, organizing & loading up a partial list of presents into the Sopwith Sonata. We flew over hills and dells to exchange my Vallee kids in Nashville w/ thier Mom. On the way there, Blue & I sang Have a Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives & have I mentioned how incredible his gift of mimicry is? You'd have thought Mt. Ives was in the car with us. :) We sang Please Santa Don't Be Late by the Chipmunks at the top of our lungs punctuating it with much laughter and love.
After picking the kids up, we had a long, quiet, discussion about thier Papaw...my most wonderful Dad. G asked me if his cancer was really serious & I explained to the boys what the procedure was and W was quick to reassure me that they told thier Papa and that Papaw's name was on thier prayer list @ church...my eyes immediately welled up with tears as I told them I know you guys don't see me down ever, but it may be a rough few days for me. G said I understand and it's okay to feel that way. I'm in awe of what a good job his Mom and Dad have done raising him. (them)
On arrival home almost 6 hours after departure, the kids unloaded & hit the trampoline @ breakneck speed. As I watched them, it dawned on me that water was pouring out of the ground...praying it was oil geyser to no avail, i called the most wonderful husband on earth & described it to him. He explained to me how to turn the water off until he got home and promised he would give it a look when he got home. (have I mentioned how much I love that man?)
I went straight to the kitchen to start the sausage, got out the flour (in the big ziplock baggy) for the gravy & disaster struck. It seems that the water pipe and refridgerator were co-conspiring against me as the flour was now wet & runny dough. No gravy tonight in my kitchen, no gravy tonight in thier tums...
MOG
There are days that chewing through the restraints isn't to be valued or trusted. Maybe today was rough because I'm tender about Dad having cancer. Maybe it was tender because holidays are hard on Blue & sentimental moreso than any other time of the year. Maybe...SuperMom(StepMomster) needs a few seconds to recharge.
All in all, the outpouring of love, prayer & faith the last few days is cause enough to give pure, true thanks & appreciate the beauty & simplicity of God's grace unwavering and His love true...
After picking the kids up, we had a long, quiet, discussion about thier Papaw...my most wonderful Dad. G asked me if his cancer was really serious & I explained to the boys what the procedure was and W was quick to reassure me that they told thier Papa and that Papaw's name was on thier prayer list @ church...my eyes immediately welled up with tears as I told them I know you guys don't see me down ever, but it may be a rough few days for me. G said I understand and it's okay to feel that way. I'm in awe of what a good job his Mom and Dad have done raising him. (them)
On arrival home almost 6 hours after departure, the kids unloaded & hit the trampoline @ breakneck speed. As I watched them, it dawned on me that water was pouring out of the ground...praying it was oil geyser to no avail, i called the most wonderful husband on earth & described it to him. He explained to me how to turn the water off until he got home and promised he would give it a look when he got home. (have I mentioned how much I love that man?)
I went straight to the kitchen to start the sausage, got out the flour (in the big ziplock baggy) for the gravy & disaster struck. It seems that the water pipe and refridgerator were co-conspiring against me as the flour was now wet & runny dough. No gravy tonight in my kitchen, no gravy tonight in thier tums...
MOG
There are days that chewing through the restraints isn't to be valued or trusted. Maybe today was rough because I'm tender about Dad having cancer. Maybe it was tender because holidays are hard on Blue & sentimental moreso than any other time of the year. Maybe...SuperMom(StepMomster) needs a few seconds to recharge.
All in all, the outpouring of love, prayer & faith the last few days is cause enough to give pure, true thanks & appreciate the beauty & simplicity of God's grace unwavering and His love true...
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The call
Meet us in the carport. We need to talk.
I was there a few minutes later, my sister a few seconds after.
Dad had gallbladder surgery Monday a week ago. The resulting biopsy showed his gallbladder to "a minute amount" of cancer.
Faith. Love. Pray. Positive. To everything a season.
I was there a few minutes later, my sister a few seconds after.
Dad had gallbladder surgery Monday a week ago. The resulting biopsy showed his gallbladder to "a minute amount" of cancer.
Faith. Love. Pray. Positive. To everything a season.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Collapse of the Momster
Rare are the times that a Mom gets sick, especially a Mom with a child with Autism or any other special need. I slept from 10am-3pm yesterday, came up for air when my girlfriend dropped the boys off from school, staying awake long enough for Blue to be picked up by hus dad & crashed again, waking @ 7pm to see Tbear off to his Dad's & then...sleep...coughing, coughing, coughing & more sleep...
Day two of perfecting operation reclining Momster, chicken noodle soup, cough meds, my Razorback Snugglie & a Sean Connery movie fest.
The phone rang a a few seconds ago for me to hear an angelic soft voice on the other end singing:
Good moring, Moma beautiful, how was your night? Hope you are feeling better!!! I have a sore throat a little bit and I miss you, but Dad says you need some rest because you are bad sick so you rest & feel better & I'll come by & kiss you before we go to town. Love you Mom! Bye!
Nothing in any world could compare to the love given freely from any of my boy children...hard fought & sweetly won. :)
Day two of perfecting operation reclining Momster, chicken noodle soup, cough meds, my Razorback Snugglie & a Sean Connery movie fest.
The phone rang a a few seconds ago for me to hear an angelic soft voice on the other end singing:
Good moring, Moma beautiful, how was your night? Hope you are feeling better!!! I have a sore throat a little bit and I miss you, but Dad says you need some rest because you are bad sick so you rest & feel better & I'll come by & kiss you before we go to town. Love you Mom! Bye!
Nothing in any world could compare to the love given freely from any of my boy children...hard fought & sweetly won. :)
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