Reading, reading, reading

Who doesn’t like to see anyone, young or old, so engrossed in a book they’re oblivious to everything going on around them? Even when we’re all at Mom and Dad’s, which makes a for a very full house with lots of noise, you can always count on finding someone, somewhere in the house reading a book.

Thanksgiving 2012

The years and holidays can start to blur together over time, but I’m sure Thanksgiving 2012 will stand out in our minds because it was the year of The Crash. In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, there was a flurry of emails between me and the other siblings while we divvied up the dishes and duties that Mom and Dad usually take care of.

Kelly, Heather and I went down to Mom and Dad’s on Monday so we could get the house ready. We did all the cleaning and set the tables with Mom and Dad’s best dishes and silverware. Mom spent most of the time trying to get comfortable. She got up several times and hobbled into the kitchen and also tried out a different chair for the first time since she got home from the hospital. After lunch, I started a double batch of chocolate chip cookies, since Dad had almost finished off the batch that he had in the freezer. Yes, this is a funny detail about the day of the accident I hadn’t heard of yet. Apparently, Dad had baked chocolate chip cookies the night before the accident. The next evening at the hospital, he gave Heather a list of things to do back at the house. One of the things he mentioned was the chocolate chip cookies – he wanted her to make sure she put those in the freezer. :-D  Yep, that’s my Dad; never waste dessert! We finished up around 3:00 and spent the next hour or so chatting.

Mick offered to take on the turkey roasting duties and Heather made Mom’s traditional stuffing. All of us girls made more pies than we usually do. I made 2 pecan and my first ever pumpkin pie. Mick decided to grill one of the turkeys and we roasted the other one in the oven. There’s nothing like the smell of roasted turkey to make the house feel like Thanksgiving!

Meanwhile, the girls helped gather up all the pilgrim costume pieces we could find and we went over the play. Who would’ve thought when Kelly wrote that play out 10 years ago that we would still be doing it all these years later! 

We’ve had an unusually warm November, and Thanksgiving day was sunny and in the mid-60s. After we ate the meal, Mick, Glenn, Dad, Steve, Chuck and Ron took 10 of the kids over to neighbor Dave Higgins’ place to do some skeet shooting. Dad wasn’t going to go at first because he felt like he should be there for Mom, but we convinced him to go with the others. Since we stayed at the house, I sent our camera and camcorder with the girls and they ended up getting quite a good bit of footage of the adventure.

 

Later, we pitted the guys against the girls for a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit. Let’s see: I learned that Denver backed out of hosting the Winter Olympics in 1976, roller derby was invented in the 1920s and 30s, the first English play written for children was “Peter Pan” and the word “feedback” is the smallest English word you can form with the letters A, B, C, D, E, and F! Unfortunately, because it was getting late, we had to stop before the game was over, so we weren’t able to determine a winner, but let’s just say that after a shaky start, the ladies came roaring back!  ;-)

 

We finished up the evening with an impromptu mini piano concert by Chuck, who didn’t bring his guitar again because he “doesn’t have enough time to practice.” Harumph!

The day after Thanksgiving, I was looking through the pictures and video – most of which the girls got – and decided to make a movie. It ended up being more elaborate than I had in mind at first, but we’re happy with the finished product: it gives a good overview of what a wonderful day it was!

Grant, a/k/a “The Happy Wanderer”

 

All families have stories that are so entertaining and loved they are often retold, enjoyed and chuckled over, even though everyone has heard the story so many times. An interesting thing with time, though, is its ability to soften our memories and take the hard edges off of the details. One story we always enjoyed hearing my Grandma tell was about our funny, energetic Uncle Rob. When he was a toddler, the family lived in the hills of Brown County. It seems one day Uncle Rob turned up missing. Just behind the family’s log cabin was a deep ravine filled with trees. That is where Grandma found Uncle Rob, wandering around in his diaper. After that, for a while, she actually put a cow bell around his neck so she could keep track of him!

That is the extent of the story as we know it, and it has always made us all chuckle at the thought of Uncle Rob taking off for the woods in his diaper, and later walking around with a cow bell around his neck. (And I have to wonder how long a 2-year-old would keep a cow bell around his neck? I have a 2-year-old, and I’m thinking he might enjoy that for about 2.3 seconds.) But I suppose if we somehow could have heard Grandma tell this story right after it happened, it would have had a few more frightening details: like how Grandma felt when she realized her two-year-old was missing, how long she searched for him and how frantic she must’ve felt the whole time, and what kind of shape he was in. If he was at the bottom of the ravine in only a diaper, was he scratched up? I can’t imagine a 2-year-old making it down to the bottom of a ravine without falling once or twice, maybe even rolling some. But time, with its buffering, softening effects, has turned it all into a quaint, charming family tale, complete with a happy ending.

So, why do I choose to share the story I’m about to share, when it’s been less than 24 hours after it all took place? Well, because there is a happy ending here also: Grant is quietly sleeping in his bed as I type, and I praise God for that (for the fact that’s he’s safe in his bed and that he’s asleep!) Also because, as scary as it was at the time, we are already sharing a few grateful chuckles about it all, even a few hours after the fact. And I just know this story will be repeated to Grant when he is older – he might even have a dim memory of it – and I want to get the facts straight while they’re still fresh in our memories.

So, I’m at work on Friday afternoon for a few short hours. Suddenly, I notice Alix is on Skype and is sending what I mistakenly think is some Skype messages for me. When I pull up the Skype window, I was greeted with this exchange between Courtney and Alix:

worley: I have an amazing story to tell you.

Alix Orr: ok

worley: Rachel is babysitting and a man in a white pickup pulled up to the door and knocked and we didn't answer cause duh we're the only ones home.

Alix Orr: right

worley: Soooo...we suddenly realized we couldn't locate Grant

Alix Orr: !!!!

worley: and Rachel thought maybe the man was going to tell us that he was in the next county (!)

Alix Orr: !

worley: So Rachel and I ran outside to look for him

Alix Orr: so the man in the white pickup had driven away by now?

worley: yes

worley: and Rachel saw him walking up the road WAY far away

Alix Orr: aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

worley: and since Rach wasn't wearing shoes and I was I met him further down the creek and asked him if anyone said something to him. He said yes

Alix Orr: *choke*

worley: I asked Grant what the man's car color was and he said "white" (btw Grant was shirtless)

Alix Orr: *chokes harder*

worley: and I asked him what the man said. He said "You should probably go home now buddy" and I asked him what kind of car it was and it was a pickup. So about five minutes later Sarah goes "Rachel, who's here?" Long story short it was a policeman.

At this point, their exchange ended.  Imagine my reaction: blood pressure and temperature rising as each sentence appeared on the screen. But in retrospect, this might have been a better way for me to find out about it than an excited, breathless phone call. I quickly ran through the facts in my head and started calming down when I realized: (1) I hadn’t gotten a phone call; (2) they obviously had Grant safe at the house at this point; and (3) it was already considered an “amazing” story and was shared via Skype with Alix.

When I got home, the girls filled me in on the details. Rachel was busy laying Trent down for a nap when the man in the white truck knocked on the door. By the time she got downstairs, he was getting back in his truck (she wouldn’t have opened the door, anyway). A few minutes later, they realized Grant was missing. Once they had him back, they asked him where he was going. He said he was going down to “watch the combine” (they were harvesting corn in the field opposite the next road down). Jack and Samson were with him and in spite of everything, I thought what a cute picture that would’ve had made: Grant walking down our gravel road, Samson and Jack on either side of him, to watch the combine. If only I could’ve just been a few feet behind him the whole time … Anyway a few minutes later, Sarah called out “Who’s here?” and Rachel looked out and saw the sheriff walking up the steps and said “Oh super! A policeman!!”  Apparently the man (saint? guardian angel?) in the white truck had called the sheriff’s office and told them about Grant. When the officer got to the house, he got out his radio and said something to the effect of “It’s OK, guys, we found the boy.” (!) Then he asked the girls a few questions (How old are you? Will your parents be gone much longer?), then he talked to Grant about not wandering off again and ended the conversation with a high five. This part of the story kind of makes me chuckle because, like most little boys, Grant is fascinated by policemen. A few weeks ago, he told me he really wanted to “give a policeman ‘five.’” I thought it was cute at the time, but never thought it would be played out like this!

After church yesterday, Mick was telling Kelly about it and when he got done, she asked Grant “Where were you going?”  His answer: “I was very, very close to far away.”

57 Seconds of Cuteness

Rachel shot this video a couple of weeks ago when she was trying to help Trent say "buggy". The only time he gets it right is when she flips the screen around so he can see himself. Surely just a fluke! Ha! Love it when toddlers start getting brave and trying new words. I call them verbal kamikazes!

D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths by Ingri d'Aulaire and Edgar Parin d'Aulaire

 

Sarah and Brooke have been using every spare minute in the past couple of days to read this classic. Right now, they’re on the most coveted spot in the house: the register between the speaker and the wall. Big comfy pillows + warm register beneath + sunlight overhead = reading heaven!

A Frightful Day, Part 2

You can read Part 1 here.

So, Mom would need a chest tube. Earlier, while we were waiting for the chest x-ray, Mom had emphatically stated that she did not want surgery. We were a little disappointed, but not too concerned. The doctors explained that it would be a simple procedure that would take about 20 minutes. Mom would not be completely unconscious, but heavily sedated. “I don’t want to have to do this,” admitted one of the younger ER doctors, “but I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing that pocket of air is in there and possibly getting bigger.” I was a little uneasy that he “didn’t want to have to do this.” Why? Was the chest tube that bad? It would mean a longer hospital stay for Mom than what we’d hoped for, but other than that, it seemed like it would be a good thing – or at least useful. Maybe “necessary” was a better way of looking at it.

Through all this Mom continued to be alert and breathlessly talkative – so much so that we told her several times that she didn’t need to talk. She was obviously in pain; frequently grimacing, shifting and saying “ouch” while she talked.

A Moment of Levity

This iPhone photo was taken right after Kelly unwittingly put contraband lip balm on Mom. She had been wanting something to drink because the air was very dry in the hospital, but she could not have anything to eat or drink because it was prior to the CT scan. A few minutes later, the ER nurse walked in with some supplies for Mom. She gave her a wash cloth that she could soak in water, those foam things on sticks (which you can see in the picture) which she could dip in water, and lastly, some "hospital-grade lip balm". Oh. OK. What's wrong with regular lip balm, we wondered, kind of nervously. I’m sure we were all thinking of the Burt’s Bees lip balm Kelly had just put back in her purse. Apparently, "non-hospital grade lip balm contains petroleum, which is flammable, so it cannot be used on patients who are on oxygen," explained the ER nurse matter-of-factly. Nobody said a word, but we were glancing around at each other kind of sheepishly.   Who knew?   :-)

The Chest Tube

A short time later, several doctors came in, including the Chief Trauma doctor, and explained the chest tube procedure. This doctor had himself broken several ribs in his lifetime. He had seen Mom’s x-rays and experienced the same type of injury. “I know you are in a lot of pain, but with my own experience and the experience of our patients, we know that the pain of broken ribs increases and peaks on Day 5.” This was not good news, but at this point, we were focused on getting Mom through the chest tube procedure.

The procedure itself took longer than we expected; it was probably about 45 minutes before we were able to go back and see her. This time, she was markedly different; very groggy and much more quiet. I was glad they had given her the strong drugs for the procedure, because she seemed to be in less pain, or at least not as aware of the pain. Soon after this, it was time to move her from the ER to a room on the fourth floor. It was in the evening now, and Dad, Kelly, Glenn and I were the only ones still there. Unfortunately, we arrived on the fourth floor during a shift change, and there was some confusion and hustling when we realized Mom’s room didn’t have a bed in it. We stayed out in the hallway for probably 15 or 20 minutes, but Mom hardly seemed aware of anything.

Once they got her settled into her room, the waves of nausea started. This nausea would continue to plague Mom off and on (mostly on) for the rest of her stay. There were several theories: the shock of the trauma, the strong pain meds, a concussion (Mom and Dad’s hunch, a few days after they got home). Whatever was causing the nausea, it was pretty relentless and made Mom feel really miserable. They tried several different remedies: various anti-nausea meds, cold wash cloth on back of neck, etc., but it took several days to get it under control.

Day 2

When we got to the hospital on Thursday night, Kelly & Glenn were there. We took Rachel, Claire, Grant & Trent with us (the others were at ballet). The kids were interested to see Grandma and didn’t seem to be upset to see the few scratches on her right cheek from the shattered glass or the large bruise on her right arm. Later, when we were leaving the hospital, though, Rachel told me she heard Grant quietly say “Poor Grandma.”

At one point that day, a transporter came to take her for an ultrasound. Ultrasound? No one had mentioned anything about this. Dad and Mom both stopped him and asked to talk to a nurse or doctor to find out more. No one seemed to know anything about it until they finally located an ER nurse who came up and explained. Apparently, there was a routine head-to-toe scan done shortly after Mom was admitted to ER. During this scan, a “large nodule” was spotted on her thyroid, near her ear. It could be several things, but they weren’t speculating. By the time this was all explained, there was another patient who was scheduled for the ultrasound machine, so they needed to reschedule Mom’s procedure for the next morning. This was a little unsettling, and Mom told us the next afternoon that she spent a sleepless night (partly due to pain and nausea) praying about this nodule and asking God to just remove it, to take it away.

Day 3

On Friday, I was scheduled to go in to work downtown. As I was driving up toward the hospital, which is just north of the exit I needed, I decided to stop in and see how Mom was doing. It was around noon. I stopped by the Au Bon Pain restaurant in the hospital and picked up some coffee and a couple of danishes for Dad. He later whispered to me that that was the first thing he’d eaten that day. When I got into the room, I could tell this was not a good day for Mom. Apparently, just before I got there, she was feeling really awful, both from the nausea and from not being able to move around or change positions. It got to the point where she just had to get up from the bed. So, the nurse and Dad helped her get into a chair right beside the bed. It was a slow, painstaking process and she could only bear to be sitting in the chair for about 10 minutes. But all this energy and shifting took its toll. Mom was back in her bed when I walked in, but she was very uncomfortable, shifting, occasionally shaking and grimacing. The blankets were off, her socks were off, and Dad had turned the thermostat down to 60 degrees, but she was still unbearably hot. I gave her ice chips and Dad and I talked quietly. A short time later, Dad took a call from a policeman friend of us about getting a copy of the police report. While he was talking, Mom turned her head towards me with eyes closed and whispered very slowly “Tell Dad to get my nurse, Emily, and tell her to beg the doctor to remove this tube.” It was unbearable – even worse than the broken ribs (I asked). So I found Emily and told her that my usually stoic Mom was obviously in a tremendous amount of pain. She calmly said she knew the chest tube was uncomfortable, but they needed to keep it in until they were sure it wasn’t necessary, otherwise, they’d need to just put it back in. But she said she would talk to the doctor about it. In the meantime, they brought Mom a new anti-nausea med to try. Uncle Kent called and Mom couldn't talk to him because she "didn't have enough air to talk", so Dad updated him.   After that, Uncle Rob called. At first Mom shook her head, but then she said she could say hi to him. She took the phone and talked to him for maybe 30 seconds before handing the phone back to Dad.

She still kept her eyes closed and rarely talked, but within a short time, Mom seemed more calm and actually dozed for maybe twenty to thirty minutes while I Dad and I talked quietly at her side.

Turning a corner

As Mom started waking up, she groggily asked Dad to turn on the fireplace (they have a gas fireplace at home), then she stopped herself and smiled a little bit and asked him to turn up the furnace and cover her with a blanket. We put socks back on her feet. Gradually, she seemed more calm. The shaking stopped. She talked a little more. When we asked if her nausea was better, she thought for a minute and then said it did seem to be.

A church friend of hers stopped by with a gift (I think I had been there for about 2 hours at that point) and I thought "this is not going to go well." This friend was very talkative and had quite a "presence" about her. I just mean that you knew when she was in the room.  :-)  (If anyone has seen the movie "Despicable Me", she reminded me physically of the lady from the orphanage with the southern accent. ;-)  But it was interesting to watch Mom. It was like she was really rallying to try to talk to this lady. The woman probably stayed 45 minutes, talking about everything from healthcare to politics to the Scriptures. I thought Mom was pushing herself too hard; that she was just being polite. Towards the end of her visit, Mom told her that it was nice to have the distraction of the visit. I thought she should surely crash when this lady left, but she didn't. After she left, she continued to nibble on a Saltine and take ice chips and was more talkative with us. It was really amazing to watch. I think about all the people who know and love Mom and who have been praying for her generally and specifically and I know God is answering those prayers.

A little while later another friend from church came - a good friend of Mom's who we just met last month when we were at Mom and Dad's - at the same time, a representative from their church's Stephens Ministry came in, along with Florence and Patty. This really perked Mom up and she had a good visit with them.

Around this time, a nurse came in to see how Mom was doing. While she was in the room, she mentioned that the mysterious "nodule" was actually a hematoma, probably from the accident. Florence speculates that it was caused by the pressure of the seat belt during the accident.

I ended up leaving the hospital for about an hour and half to head over to my client's office (I was scheduled to work that day) to explain why I hadn't been in. While I was gone, the dreaded chest tube was finally removed and - wonder of wonders – the removal procedure wasn't even that uncomfortable!   The doctor had ordered the pain reliever Fentanol (sp?) for the procedure, but the nurse practitioner who performed the procedure assured Mom that would not be necessary. Mom said the procedure was quick and uneventful.   I'm so relieved she didn't need the pain meds because I didn't want to see that nausea issue crop back up.   Mom said she would rather have pain than nausea!   They scheduled another chest x-ray for 4 hours after the tube removal so that they could make sure the lung was still inflated and that no air had seeped back into the chest cavity. When we left that night, she said "I think I've turned a corner."  

Day 4

So, day 4 ended up being a whirlwind. Kelly, Heather, Jennifer & I had exchanged phone calls that morning about staggering our visits so we could help out Dad. We talked about making sure he had meals (he was so busy taking care of Mom that he was barely eating anything). During one of these calls, we found out that Mom would be able to be released that day if she meet her goals, one of which was walking down the hallway. Amazingly, she was able to meet these goals, and she said “it wasn’t as hard” as she thought it’d be! So, she was discharged that afternoon. Jennifer had already made arrangements to go to the hospital that day, so she helped them get Mom settled in at home. Chuck called to see how he could help and Dad asked if he could bring some ibuprofen. On his way to pick it up, he stopped by Olive Garden and got breadsticks, soup, salad, entree, etc. I’m sure it was more than what Dad had eaten during their entire stay in the hospital.

At home

Some good friends lent Mom a very comfortable recliner to use. We’re so glad they offered it, because it’s been the only bearable seat for her to use at home. It has now been a week and a half since she was released. The trauma surgeon’s prediction that Mom’s pain would increase up to Day 5 proved to be correct. She has continued to be in a tremendous amount of pain, and tried out many different pain meds (even going for several days with nothing more than Tylenol and Ibuprofen) while trying to find something that won’t make her feel worse than she did before she took it. The Percocet that she began taking yesterday seems promising. The nausea is gone, the chest tube is gone, and now Mom is acutely aware of the feeling of 7 broken ribs. At her first visit with her family doctor last Friday, he said she can expect some relief from the pain in 3 weeks. She’ll probably notice a little more improvement in 6-8 weeks. She wasn’t expecting a quick recovery, but was hoping he could give a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel.

Dad continues to be her ever-present caregiver. So far, she has had long, sleepless nights of pain, and he has spent the majority of those nights up with her. When I talked to her yesterday, she told me she can’t even change positions without his help. Dad admitted he’s never seen her this weak, even after her fall on Memorial Day.

At this point, now 8 days before Thanksgiving, we’re all kind of wondering what the holidays will look like this year. We have no idea what kind of shape Mom will be in by then, but we're not expecting they’ll be able to host, as they always have. Celebrating Thanksgiving somewhere else is such a strange thought – we’ve been celebrating that day at their house for about 25 years! (Before that, it was at my grandparents’.)  But these are unusual circumstances and we will all just need to be flexible and accommodating this year. I do have a list of food that I’m planning on making for Thanksgiving, just not sure where I’ll be taking it!

First Snow

We were treated with a beautiful display of big, wet flakes swirling around yesterday morning. So of course, we all watched – running from window to window, calling out for the others to come and see the snow from this window. “Will it pile up?” “Can we go sledding?” When they could tear themselves away from the windows long enough, then began the mad scramble for the winterwear. Boots, scarves, mittens flying everywhere. And of course, there was the obligatory hot chocolate afterwards, and the scattered, muddy, wet winterwear afterwards. And the snow was gone by lunchtime. And they’re ready for more (me, too)!

This Week in the News

Americans re-elect President Obama. Head of CIA resigns amidst scandal. Worley family buys a new toaster. That’s right, after 10 years of burnt toast, burnt English muffins and burnt bagels, our $14 two-slot toaster finally bit the dust. Two slots?? For a family of 10 who loves bread?! Impossible.

The next day, I offhandedly mentioned to Mick I would pick one up while I was at Wal-Mart. “No! Not another Wal-Mart toaster! I’ll order one from Amazon.” So, I took him up on that offer. It was a task I knew he would take on with relish, carefully scrutinizing every available make, model, spec and review.

And I should’ve known – should not have been surprised -- when 2 days later, a giant 1 1/2 by 2 1/2 foot box was delivered by UPS. I was upstairs when Courtney breathlessly burst into the bedroom with several of the younger ones hot on her heels. She was holding on to the gigantic box while trying to keep the bedroom door shut with her foot while they pushed on the door. She (and they) just knew it was some fabulous Christmas gift for someone. As soon as I saw it, I knew. 

“It’s a toaster.”

“A toaster?! No, it can’t be a toaster. The box is way too big!”

“It’s a toaster.”

She wasn’t convinced. I told her she could let the others in and we opened the box and found the biggest, shiniest, most button-y toaster I’d ever seen (cue heavenly choir singing and light shining down):

Digital display with progress bar, buttons for defrosting, reheating and keeping warm – yes, keeping toast warm -- and a very special button for bagels (why do bagels rate their own button, I wonder?). I didn’t know if we should put it in the cabinet or christen it. Which brought up a good question: would it fit in the cabinet? As sleek and lovely as it is, I didn’t really fancy something that mammoth sitting on the counter, staring at me all the time (is it just me or do those big buttons look like eyes). Amazingly, it actually just fit inside the cabinet in the same spot where our last, lowly toaster sat. We had to take everything off the shelf to get it to fit, but it did fit!

It has quickly become the main attraction at mealtime these past 2 days. Yesterday, Brooke requested stromboli and toast for lunch. “You want toast with your stromboli?” (Our version of Stromboli is basically a fancy ham and cheese sandwich). So different ones gathered around and watched while the toaster did its thing. Bread was gently lowered into the chamber, the metal burner units slowly surrounded the bread and the digital progress bar kept us constantly informed as to how much longer we had to wait for toast perfection. Finally, the contraption slowly raised up the toast – all we needed was a drum roll to complete the scene. Aaaaaaannd … It was toast. :-) But the important thing was: it wasn’t burnt!

This morning, we’re really going to put it the test:  bagels! We may have to break in again later for an update on that. Now back to your regularly-scheduled lives.

Read Aloud: “The Scarlet Pimpernel” by Baroness Emma Orczy

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Emmuska Orczy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A couple of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes have to do with his thoughts on children's literature:

"No book is really worth reading at age of ten which is not equally (and often far more) worth reading at the age of fifty", and

"...a children's story which is only enjoyed by children is a bad children's story."

I knew when I first read this book a few months ago that our girls would love it, and they did. In fact, they enjoyed this book so much that they had me read it aloud late into the night each time we got a chance to read it (which was definitely sporadic). We worked on it over the course of several weeks. We finally finished it last night at about 12:30 am - the last 3 chapters in about an hour and a half. An interesting aspect of this story is that, from the beginning, the two main characters are a married couple, although certainly not a happily-married couple ... at first. Orczy took great pains to make sure the reader saw how Marguerite's feelings toward her husband could undergo such a complete transformation in such a short period of time.

The girls wanted very much for this to have been a true story. Different ones at different times asked, "Was there really a Scarlet Pimpernel?" I told them that as far as I know, there was not, but there could have been Englishmen who did similar things during the French Revolution.

Now we're looking forward to seeing some screen adaptations of this, and we have several friends who recommend the Jane Seymour version done in the early '80s. I can easily picture her as Marguerite Blakeney. I think Sir Percy would be more difficult to cast.

As an aside, I love how good children's books challenge kids with rich, descriptive vocabulary. Even the older girls learned some new words in this one: "imperturbably" and "anathema" come to mind. I only wish I knew French so I could pronounce all the words properly. A friend from church helped us with some of the basics of French pronunciation. I'm sure when we watch the screen adaptations, my shortcomings in this area will be obvious. :-)

(No pictures of this book being read, since I was the one reading it! :-)

A Frightful Day – Part 1

October 31st is a notable day for many – Reformation Day and Halloween. After this year, October 31st with be one of those days that my family remembers with clarity what each of us was doing when we got The Call.

It was during lunchtime when I got The Call - Heather telling me she’d just heard from Dad. He and Mom were on the Southside when they were T-boned by a truck. He had called 911. The ambulance was there and they were taking Mom to the hospital – St. Francis South because that’s what she requested. She had just been there 2 hours ago for a routine appointment. Heather could hear Mom moaning in the background. That’s all she knew.  We talked briefly about whether or not we should go down.  She was halfway through her biggest order of the year for a function at their church for over 500 people. The order needed to be ready by the next evening. We were halfway through a regular school day, having just stopped for lunch. But the hospital was probably an hour drive for me. We decided that, for now, we’d just spread the news. I called Kelly and told her. We talked about whether to head down. I think we both felt guardedly optimistic. Optimistic might be too strong of a word. Hopeful? Dad was obviously OK, since he made the call to 911 and Heather. Mom was at least conscious and requesting a hospital. I think at that point, I knew I’d be making a trip down, but should we finish school first? It’s strange now to think that those were the thoughts I was having at that time. Processing news like this comes in degrees.

Several minutes went by. 5? 10? The phone rang again. Worse news. They had decided to take Mom to Methodist; she was having trouble breathing. Dad was very upset. Heather’s voice was breaking. We hung up and I grabbed my purse and lunch and headed for the door. Before I made it to the door, Kelly called to see if I’d heard anything. I gave her the bare details and told her I was on my way to pick her up.

On the way to Kelly’s, I called Mick and told him. He couldn’t believe it. Then he told me to try not to drive too fast. I was glad he said that, because I had to think about that several times to keep from driving dangerously just to get there more quickly.

It was difficult to keep my mind from racing. Methodist is a trauma hospital and a farther drive than St. Francis. Had they made it to St. Francis and the doctors decided they couldn’t do anything? Did the EMTs make the decision en route? Were there internal injuries that made this a more critical situation than we had thought? The drive to the Orrs is just about 20 minutes. The drive to the hospital from their house – maybe 45 minutes. Plenty of time to think … and worry … and pray. Kelly and I had an unusually quiet drive – she talked to our pastor and sent some text messages. We talked to Minda, who was feeling helpless out in Virginia. We tried to speculate about Mom’s injuries – it was so hard to wait for news about how she was doing. I almost called Heather back, but knew she would’ve called if there was new information. The strangest thing during all this was that song “Make ‘Em Laugh” was running through my head. We had been watching clips from “Singin’ in the Rain” when Heather called.

We had no idea what we’d find when we got to the hospital. Dad standing out in the hall with a chaplain’s arm around his shoulders? Mom intubated and unconscious or worse? I was trying to “take every thought captive”, but not doing a very good job of it. At a time like that, it is especially comforting to know that the Spirit cries out to God for us, and also that He knows our every need.

When we got to the hospital, there were a couple of moments that we would’ve been laughing at under different circumstances. We pulled into the ER parking lot, only to be met with a sign stating we needed to park in the garage. Since we were in our very tall van, I knew a parking garage was probably out of the question – and besides, we had no idea where the parking garage was. We spotted a public lot across the street.  $6, but who cares during a time like that?! Wonder how much money that lot makes from people in the same boat we were in. <grrrrr> So, were standing out in the cold, trying to pay the machine so we can get in the hospital and find out how our Mom is doing. Kelly swiped her card and we waited.  Nothing.  She swiped it again … and again … and again.  Nothing. No error messages or anything. We read the directions on the meter. She swiped it again … and again, etc. Finally, I dug out my card and it worked.

Once inside, we were able to get a quick escort to where Mom was in ER. When we were finally about 10 feet from her curtained-off area, we had to stop and wait for a nurse to move a patient on a gurney. Probably took maybe half a minute, but it seemed like an eternity! When we finally stepped in to her area, I was immediately relieved at the scene: Mom laying quietly in bed with a collar on. Dad sitting quietly beside her holding her hand. A nurse standing at a computer taking down her information.  She immediately apologized.  “For getting hit by a truck?” I said. She talked about the accident very breathlessly and complained about how uncomfortable the collar was. We talked about the what-ifs and how it could have been worse and she talked about not being “anxious about anything.” (Phil 4:6) Glenn got there and she apologized to him.  He said, “I forgive you…this time.” :-)  An associate pastor and good friend from their church showed up and prayed.

They took Mom out for a CT scan and we headed out to the waiting room. Jennifer and Steve got there. Then Heather and later Ron. Also, an elder from church and lastly Patty – more a sister to Mom than a cousin. More phone calls were made with updates and we waited. Finally, the pastor used his clergy credentials to go back and find out what was going on. The news was that Mom had a broken rib and a partially collapsed lung. It was possible she could be released that day. Relieved, we went back to see her as soon as we could. While we were in her “room” an ER doctor came in with some disappointing news. It seems there was a pocket of air outside her lungs in her chest cavity. Most likely, one of the ribs punctured the lung when it broke. The air sometimes dissipates, but sometimes can grow larger, which is not good. He “didn’t want to have to do it,” but they would need to insert a chest tube to drain the air. It would probably need to stay in for a couple of days, so Mom would need to stay there.

To be continued…

Trent – Summer 2012