iBLONG

Hidden....

2018-07-26T22:52:00.000-06:00

     When I was fifteen-years-old I tried my first drink and abused prescription medicines. Trying to cover up the hate I had for myself, the shame I felt, the pain that I felt inside, I needed it all to go away. Somehow, I wanted the hell inside of my own head to quiet, to subside just enough for me to survive.
     Most people in my life, have never known my addictions or struggles with alcohol, I think. I hid behind many things such as, religion, humor, politeness, and genuine love of people. People who have known me for a long time, may be surprised, or even angry that I hid it so well.
     Recently, about eight years ago, my addictions and really started to surface, again hiding, but this time I was getting in trouble and needed help from close friends and church members. You can't hid fire trucks and police cars from your neighbors for long.
     Chris and I were having a difficult time in our marriage, Chris had become permanently blind, and my kids as much as I love them, were difficult (having came from Foster Care), needing much attention and care, and I was working multiple jobs to keep us afloat financially. Please, don't get me wrong here, I love my husband, would always care for him and my children; they were my number one reason for living (later, however, I would learn I need to live for myself first).
     Four years ago, Chris was rushed to the hospital, as most of you know with life threatening illnesses, which lasted until he passed on June 7, 2017. During these four years, I fought hard for my family, I worked my ass off, took good care of my husband and kids, and I was proud of myself for all that I could accomplish, and hide what was really going on behind closed doors. There were times when I wanted to give up on myself, and was admitted to the hospital for suicidal ideation and attempts, and several overdoses. None of which I am proud of or bragging by any means, I only want to portray the truth, I want others to know that there are others who have felt the same way, you aren't alone.
     Judgment is big in our society, families, and our neighborhoods. There have been times when I have been told by loved ones, I needed to stop being so selfish....please, please, put yourself in my shoes. Yes, I fear judgement for writing about my addictions, some people think that we always choose the drug or drink over them, yes, the first time was a choice, and the brain is changed in a way that it then seeks that drug or drink over everything else in life...even your family. Remember, I started at fifteen when I didn't have kids, husband or any real responsibilities. Yes, there are many that think a person can simply, "stop," but it isn't that easy, it takes finding the reason for the addiction and fixing why we used drugs in the first place (shame, guilt, hate, pain, abuse).
     For example, today, I was faced with a difficult task of cleaning up Chris' bedroom downstairs; this is where he lived until he died. I cried for a half an hour about a toothbrush. Chris has been dead a year now, but throwing his toothbrush away made it so hard and "official," so see, a non-addicted person would ration a healthy way to deal with this situation, but my addict mind automatically wants to drink the pain away. I had to make a decision to go to an ARP (church's AA) meeting, and be around other addicts.
     This fight will be something I will have to fight for the rest of my life, and yes, I am trying to recover one day at a time- one minute at a time.
     However, I am done hiding, this is me, working on myself to live, does that mean I will never mess up again? I hope not, but if I do, please, don't give up on me.
      My sister sent a quote that I appreciate very much...."Love the addict, hate the addiction."

The Hand that Reached Out.....

2018-03-09T22:05:00.000-07:00

     Five days, five days I will not get back in my life again, five days I will never remember. The last thing I remember was taking a fist full of drugs, hoping to never awake again. Nearly, I succeeded, the ER losing me to an overdose. Finally, I awoke in a strange bed, in yet, another psychiatric ward. How long had I been there, how long had I been asleep?
     When I was finally released back out into public, I went straight back to using drugs to cover up my pain of losing Chris. I was making horrible decisions left and right. It wasn't that I didn't want to stop drinking and using, I couldn't.
     For years, I had entered the 12-Step Addiction Recovery meetings, hoping for a miracle to change my addiction, to finally feel peace from needing substance to numb the pain and heartache. For years, I prayed for help. Step One was the step that seemed to stop me in my tracks...being honest, letting go of my control, giving my life over to my Heavenly Father, and trust in Him.
     Once again, I was high sitting in a 12-Step meeting, yearning for help, but unwilling to try anything different, I was not going to get anything different without change.
     At the end of the meeting, a stranger approached me, asked me if I needed help. "No, I was okay," I said. My new friend insisted that I meet with a friend of hers, a therapist at a rehab. I couldn't do a rehab, my kids just lost their dad, they needed me at home, even as unhealthy as I was, or so I thought in my addictive mind.
     My good friend and Bishop, who has supported me for so many years, convinced me to meet with the rehab, how he got me there, I still don't know.
     My hood covered my face as we entered the building, still drunk. I didn't want to hear what anyone had to say to me, most of all a "know it all, " rehab staff, they didn't know me, they didn't know my situation, I could handle myself...I had been doing just fine for years. I took care of a dying man, children, held down jobs, I could handle this.
     My attitude towards this meeting was very poor. I was willing to do an outpatient program, but not an inpatient stay as they wanted me to do. I fought for the outpatient long and hard, but as my Bishop looked at me and said, "if we take care of your children, will you go?" I trust my Bishop with my life, my kids. The counselors, staff, and everyone in this room was looking at me as if my life depended upon this stay; I could sense the urgency, my life was on the line.
     Within an hour, I was approved to enter into inpatient rehab at Renaissance Ranch. How did this happen? How did I get tricked into this?
     I entered Renaissance Ranch on September 1, 2017, but because of my alcohol limit I had to come off of the alcohol and pills on my own. I was to return to the Ranch on Monday the 4th. Over the next couple of days, my Bishops were checking on me to make sure I hadn't had any seizures during my withdrawls.
     My stay at the Ranch was from Sept. 1st, until December 5th of 2017. There are so many things I learned about myself and why I was an addict, that I cannot thank them enough for all the love and patience they gave to me, and never-never giving up on me. The unconditional love I encountered at this sacred place is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. This Ranch saved my life, and my kids' mom.
     I hope to continue to share some of my insights and journey through the 12- Steps of AA in this blog, and I hope I can inspire someone to reach out if they need help.
     This has been the hardest post for me so far, admitting to all of you that I went to rehab, that I was bad enough that I needed rehab. I am learning to forgive myself from my past mistakes, and move forward into the light.
     Thank you for listening and sharing this journey with me.

"Who are you?"

2018-03-05T22:51:00.000-07:00

"Who are you?"

Well, you are me, I am you. We are all the same. Your trials are yours and my trials are mine, but aren't we in this together?

It doesn't matter if you are rich, poor, dying, thriving, free, trapped, educated or not, we are all the same. You bleed, I bleed, we all bleed the same. You question your worth, I question mine. I struggle to find words at times, you speak with ease. I feel less than you, maybe you feel the same. Last night, I may have struggled with suicidal thoughts, you found the strength to pray.

Since I have been young, I have struggled with self-worth and confidence, maybe you have too? Connection is the key to freedom. Connection brings the darkness out into the light, where we don't have to hide anymore.

Darkness likes darkness, it likes people to isolate, "you are better off alone," it says. Wrong. We must fight the darkness in our own minds, and reach out to others and connect.

When you are in deep depression, addiction, or simply a mom lost in a sea of priorities other than taking care of yourself, you must reach out. You must seek the light.

For far too long, I hid, thinking I was all alone in this depression, these addictions, and a life of chaos-dealing with a dying husband, children, and jobs to make ends meet, that never seemed to meet our needs.

People, constantly were putting me on a higher level, saying, "I cannot believe how you do all you do!" Little did they know, I was slowly dying inside, yearning for a hand to pull me out, rescue me.

There were many nights in psych wards for me, there were many nights dealing with police, there were many nights I was running from who I was, searching for that kid who only dreamed of a quiet family around the table. Why couldn't I just reach out? Why did I feel like I needed to hide my struggles from everyone? One, there is a stigma in this culture that says Mormon woman aren't "naughty." Two, I didn't want to humiliate my family, so I hid who I was, my struggles, my addictions, my failures as a mother and wife.

How many of you could relate? How many of you can say, "I have felt the same way?" Connection is the key to overcoming depression, addiction, and gaining self-worth.

In this blog, I will be sharing my struggles of being a mom, wife-now widow, addict, and a Child of God. Come see how I have changed my life through self-love, connection, and forgiveness of myself.

This is scary for me to become vulnerable and honest, but if I can help one woman or man, feel free enough to speak out against their own struggles, and connect, it will all be worth it.

This journey has not been easy, but it has been worth it.

2018-03-02T12:18:00.000-07:00

His Last Picture On this Earth....

Pictures are worth a million words, or so they say. If I had to say a million words about this picture, I probably could. I could go on and on and on about the struggle that Chris, my husband of twenty-one years, had to endure the last seven years of our marriage. Or, I could talk about the good old days, the days before the pain started, and the tragedy we called, "life," ever was even a thought in our minds. Likewise, I could talk about what a stupid picture this is for a last photo for a person to have in their life, really, what kind of photo is this? Could we not have taken a family photo, a couple photo, or even just of his smile?

This picture was taken on my 41st birthday, yes, it was spent in the hospital, just like my 40th birthday was spent in the hospital, or even our 20th wedding anniversary, or Valentines Day, Thanksgiving a couple times, oh and the whole summer last year, and part of this year. There were many days spent in the hospital, so many to count-from 2010-2017 approximately. How many miles did we log on our little van or Sportage...even my beat-up, old, red Chevrolet? Too many to count.

This day was the day, Chris and I finally gave into the system and signed power of attorney to me over his medical needs, just in case. It was again, my 41st birthday...yea, for me, and yea, for Chris, it meant it was starting to slip less in his favor.

This day, Chris was in so much pain, so much pain, he was exhausted from just coming from, yet another, MRI on his spine. The pain was so unbearable to him, but he smiled, he sang to me, "Happy Birthday Brooklyn, happy Birthday to you." We exchanged, "I love yous," and I eventually departed because it was later in the evening, and he was so tired. I would hear from him in the morning.

You never think that the last photo of you will be of an example of your pain, a tell-tell of your life the past seven years, or not pleasant, if you will.

It is nearly four in the AM for me, and I sit and try to think of a reason or good analogy I can put with this picture, but no...simply it sucks. It sucks that this amazing man had to suffer, but he rarely complained. It sucks he couldn't take care of his family the past seven years like he wanted to, but we got to spend those years closer than ever to him. It sucks that we are without him, but he is now our personal guide in our lives, as he helps us more than we know from the great beyond.

I love my Chris, and I will look at this picture fondly, as a reminder of his sacrifice for our family, and just how much he loves us, loves us, not loved...he is still here, there, out-there, teaching others, helping others, seeing with two eyes, playing that grand piano. He is happy. We aren't, but he did his part for us, we have to do our part for him, now is our time to have a trial of faith.

We will always miss Chris, until we meet him again...and this time without bruises!

Jogging with my Cigarette

2017-03-02T00:13:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I do my best thinking on my drive into work, I assume it has to do with the silence, and large metal box I am in, yes, that's it! However, it could be the music roaring loudly in my car, give me some good Bon Jovi to listen to and I am in my groove!
As I was driving, I came across a younger woman, she was dressed in running clothes, you know those fancy, crazy colored (sometimes blinding), tight stretch pants, and a cute shirt to match. The woman had a ponytail upon her head, and looked like she had just ran a cool mile. The closer I got, the clearer the scene became to me, and boy was I confused!
This cute, slender, athletic looking woman, who appeared to be on a healthy run, was holding a cigarette in one hand. Two things came to my mind: One, people can appear one way, and be another, good or bad. Two, I made a quick judgement that this woman was something she wasn't just by the way she looked, even though her look was positive.
There is a big elephant in the room, in the state of Utah...it is called, "we can't let people see our flaws, or, sometimes called, "I am sorry my house is messy, it was clean yesterday" syndrome. Aren't we all trying to cover up who we really are, because we are worried about what others think?
So, as I thought about this woman, nicely dressed for a run, but holding a cigarette, which was obviously not healthy for her, I thought about my own jogging outfit (green and purple striped pants, super tight, and of course, a gold shimmering sequin shirt!) My "real" jogging outfit consists of some nice work clothes, church clothes, Levi's and hoodies, and occasionally some embarrassing bright red jogging pants and sweatshirt, but is what I wear on the outside really who I am? What about the perfect looking woman who sits in church, quiet, nicely dressed children sitting reverently next to her? What about the man in line at the grocery store, who is down on his luck, dirty, smelly? How about the woman at the gym, overweight, sweating like crazy, staring at the woman who is skinny, who barely has a glimmer of sweat on her?
We forget we are all human, we all have flaws, and we all make mistakes. A lot of people assume I have it all together, spiritual, hard-working, good mother, wife....not even close, but that's ok, I am learning to embrace my flaws, and even look at that as an opportunity to help and serve others.
Think about the perfect woman at church, with the perfect kids....how much screaming did she do to get those kids into those clothes? Did she cry the night before because she feels so much pressure to have that "perfect" family? Maybe, she even drinks at night, and hates herself for being a failure. This woman's jogging outfit doesn't fit, but what if that woman was willing to open up to others, and admit that she needs others? Maybe, there are other woman who feel that same pressure.
The man in the grocery store line who stinks, who is a honored veteran who suffers with PTSD. Did his "outfit" really show us who he really is? Did we judge him by his look to quickly? He is a child of God, as well. Everyone is a child of God no matter their outfit.
Next time I see a woman running, I am not going to judge her, because she may look all put together and fit, but what happens when she goes home? Does she run to escape an abusive relationship? Does she go home and starve herself? What about her self-talk, does she tell herself how horrible she is or how fat she is?
However, on the flip side of the coin, do I dress in nice church clothes to appear better than others? Do I want to appear perfect when I obviously am not? Am I afraid of being myself? Where is my cigarette while I jog? When people come to my messy house, am I more afraid of them judging me or am I worried they will find the raccoon living in my oldest's bedroom? Personally, I am worried of them judging me, judging my laziness, my cleaning skills, and my inability to control raccoons. Maybe, I need to remember I spent the morning cleaning, had two doctor appointments, went to work, played with my kids, made dinner....but I am worried of you judging me! Am I alone in this? Surely, I am not alone, maybe we could just be real, strip down those ugly running outfits and wear our real clothes!
This elephant in Utah that Mormons are perfect, or better than others is insane! Sometimes, in my experience, non-Mormons, drug addicts, rough and tough men, can be very raw and real. I love the people of different faiths, people who struggle with addictions and alcohol! I love my Mormon friends, and the faith they teach me!
We can break this syndrome of perfectionism and hiding our trials and flaws....we are all in this world together, wearing ugly stretchy pants! Please forgive me if I have offended anyone, I just see so much division in this world, and I love you.

Value of Pain

2017-02-27T00:38:00.002-07:00

When I think of pain, there shouldn't be any value in it, right? Who wants pain and angst in their life? My first thought when I know something horrible is going to happen, is, "I can't handle this, it is too hard; I want to run, hide, escape from this pain!" No value in pain!

Everyone of us knows times of heartache, sadness, or at the least, the feeling of being alone in this world. A friend of mine, has a daughter who just went through a heart and lung transplant, another lost her father and daughter within weeks of each other, those may be big heartaches, but we all have little heartaches, such as coming home from work to a messy house, running out of gas....they all suck! Yes, I said suck, sometimes life just sucks!

What is the value of our pain, or what do we get from all of our suffering? Some people say all of our trials are for our own good! What? Screw that theory! When I am holding my husband's hand, and see the muscles, or lack thereof, and try to remember the beautiful music that used to come from these hands, I can't help but think, "what is Chris supposed to learn from this pain? He doesn't deserve this, my kids don't deserve this. My kids won't even remember the beautiful spirit that poured from his soul, as he played the piano. This isn't fair! What is the value of Chris suffering, and the kids watching Chris become less and less involved in their lives? My kids suffered already! My kids were homeless, abused, starved prior to coming into our home...I thought, "no way, Heavenly Father knows these kids have been through enough, Chris has to get better!"

Well, being pretty hard-headed and stubborn it has taken me many years, yes years, to find the value of our pain!

The worry of my kids being disabled by this life somehow, is real, but the value of this life is starting to shine forth. My kids, at times, have sat in a hospital for days and hours, for years now, the value...compassion for people in all walks of life, seeing others in the worst times in their lives and reaching out their hands in love. Having received food from our church, which is a huge blessing, our kids have experienced the value of, "extras" that the church may not provide, such as, a loved one bringing Doritos, or even Spagettios, as a treat....the value is enjoying things in life, not just expecting it to be there. A value that I am excited to witness, are my kids reaching their potential in life. As my kids deal with medical issues daily, some of them for seven years now, I can see how amazing they are turning out to be. Riley, won an award in a Science Fair for showing how blood works. Kenley, just this last week was in the District Science Fair for proving how different brains work. All of my kids can test blood, and give shots to their dad, and for fun we all discuss how the body works! Maybe, just maybe they needed to experience these trials to become something great and change someone's life.

One of the biggest values I have gained is depending upon something greater than ourselves, learning the love of friends and neighbors, and having that faith and prayers fulfilled through others, the hand of Christ. As my family, struggles, we have learned to trust in the Lord, lean on Him when we just can't stand anymore. I pray, that my kids have that faith, and as they get older and witness and suffer in their own pain they will fall back on the knowledge, or value, that they are loved by so many, and most of all that as they suffer, God hasn't left them, but held them as they cry.

If the suffering and pain that Chris and I endured is for the greater good of our children, I know Chris and I would do it again, as many of you would, as well. Our value of pain is great.

Now, I don't pretend to have this issue down pat, mind you, I am an addict and I find anyway to escape from this pain, but step one in the LDS 12 Step is honesty, and I am trying to admit that I cannot do this alone. Have I mastered step one? Um....I have been working on this step for six years! However, I have never talked openly about my family's turmoil (the big stuff) or my struggle about how imperfectly I am handling this situation! I am learning, as I talk to others who have read my blog, that they feel good about what they read, and if my mistakes and mess ups help you in any way, that my friend is another value for me and you!

What is the value for your trial and heartache in life?

Growing Strong Roots

2017-02-22T22:51:00.000-07:00

As I was driving to work this afternoon, I noticed something disturbing. On this particular road there were lots of older trees lining the road, but these beautiful, old trees were being trimmed down to the base, or the core of the tree, only a few limbs left, this tree looked beaten, defeated, if you will.

As a young child, I traversed this road on bike, as a new teenage driver, I drove on this road (yes, probably too fast), and now as an adult I frequent this road many times a day. Today, however, I noticed the trees, and I was feeling much like these trees today....very broken.

When we are born, we start to take root in life, such as, our core values, family relationships, even our beliefs about ourselves. Continually growing, our branches start to grow in length and strength. Our branches may represent our trials, our experiences, our loved ones, education, goals, really anything that is you!

For me, some of my weak branches represent the many hats I wear....wife, mom, employee, friend, neighbor, caregiver. The stronger branches, are my experiences, trials, blessings, faith in God and a Savior. My roots are my beliefs in myself, my belief in a loving Heavenly Father, a Savior that sacrificed his life, so that I may repent for my many sins, and some of my roots are simply what I have been taught (good or bad).

So, as I looked at these trees, I felt bad that they grew and grew, only to be cut to pieces by others. One tree, was chopped down to make room for power lines, another because it was hindering progress in a subdivision being built, and lastly, one was simply blocking a view. For me, a sad sight was set before me; as I looked at these strong rooted trees being brought to their "knees," I thought, "what a waste of a life!" However, as I looked further, something clicked in me....it didn't matter how many limbs have been cut from these trees, they were still standing, beaten and tired from wear, but still standing!

Last night, Chris and I were awake most of the evening. Chris was unable to sleep due to blood running from his nose, down his throat. Chris had blood all over himself, and I finally got him to sleep. Six o'clock a.m. came only moments later, time for my other branch, or hat, being mom. The kids were off to school, so back to caretaker hat. Things with Chris are so demanding, any wrong move on my part impacts him, and today what should I do? Chris is bleeding, but I am told to control it, Chris now won't wake up, but my other hat, employee, is starting soon! Which branch do I choose to chop?

During my life, some of my branches have been snapped off by others, some have been patched, and lifted up by loved ones. Some of my branches are decaying from addiction and negative self-talk. Sometimes, I think our tree can be full, other times stripped down to the core, exposed to pain, but other times our tree is blooming with blessings!

For me, today is tough, it is tough to watch my sweet husband battle this trial in life. Our families roots can, and will be strong, grounded in a knowledge of eternal families, a knowledge of life after death, and our love for each other. Last, but not least....my children are three of my strongest roots, and with them I cannot fall!

Normal?

2017-02-18T22:44:00.001-07:00

In our family we have become so desensitized to things, things that some families may be completely disgusted over. My kids and I can keep leading life as usual, as Chris struggles, literally next to us.
As I was cleaning my kitchen floor, I heard a familiar sound, a too familiar sound. As I looked into the family room to check on my ill husband, I was a bit saddened by what I saw. My kids, watching TV, Chris struggling to breath, moaning, and trying to throw up, without making too much noise in front of the kids. My kids didn't flinch, I wasn't too concerned, I knew it was pass in a minute. When did we become so comfortable with Chris' battle?
Chris has become a permanent feature in our family room, and we sort of live around him. Chris yearns to be "normal" again, but we have come to accept he is just getting too bad for "normal."
Sitting in my bathroom, as an escape from our life, as a place of peace, I fall into a deep sense of despair....wondering, " how can I do this? What can I do to help my family?" The thoughts in my head are so loud, can't they just stop for a minute?
If I could share a personal experience....I guess this is all personal, ha, but this is really special to me. One night, as my husband was in the ICU near death with heart failure, I had come home one night and I couldn't get my mind to calm down! "What am I gonna do if he dies? God is punishing you! You deserve this hell your going through. You are so weak! You can't make it through this! You are so stupid!" I did not know what to do. My dear, sweet friend and Bishop, gave me a Priesthood blessing, I immediately felt calmer. He then advised me to read my scriptures until I felt better. I fell asleep reading my scriptures and woke up reading them. Being stubborn, I abandoned this counsel.....I don't need Him or his scriptures!
A year later, and after a lot of pain and challenges, I am gripping to come back. Without going into to much detail, I have lost so much being an addict....I can't loose anymore.
As Chris lays with his head on my lap as I write about our truths....I realize our normal is dealing with a terminally ill father and best friend, and maybe, just maybe my kids are learning so much about life, and if they become better people because of our struggles, it will have been worth it!
This is a scary thing writing about our "normal," I pray that as I write these experiences it may help someone else struggling.
What is normal anyway? It's way overrated! Oops, I need to go help Chris...he is at it again!

We Can't Do It Alone

2017-02-16T23:48:00.001-07:00

We all have this desire to connect to people, to feel loved and accepted, no matter who we are or what we do. However, we have this fear of being vulnerable and honest about how we really feel, "what will they think of me?" We can't let people see us fail, or be human for heaven's sake!

During my life, I have refused to let people in, in fear of rejection or ridicule. Since 2010, my life has spun out of control, I have lost myself while taking care of my ailing husband, and my crazy kiddos.

People come up to me, "you are so amazing, you take care of Chris, work, and take care of your beautiful kids! I could never do what you do!" Instantly, I feel like I am living a lie. What would they think if they really knew how much I was struggling? When people ask, "what can we do for you?" I immediately say, "We are fine, we are good." However, I am sinking, I can't buy groceries, my house is a mess, my power is being shut-off, Chris had just fallen and needed to take him to the doctor....but needed to be at a kids IEP meeting! So, instead of reaching out, saying ,"yes, I need a helping hand," I pretend to not need anyone, I can't seem selfish or weak!

Over the last seven years since Chris has become blind, and developed his many illnesses....I have chosen to cope with other things to fill that void of happiness, to numb my sadness and depression. I have pretended to be "fine" for so long that my addictions and depression have taken over my life. Talking about this and opening up about this is scary and hard for me, but I am on a journey of sobriety and healing. Please don't judge me! I have worked the 12-steps for six years, but it hasn't stuck. Maybe, being open and admitting I can't do this alone will make a difference, I need help from loved ones and my Savior.

Trials in life are never easy, at times you just feel like giving up. Why is this happening to me and my family? How could God do this to my husband?

My nerves are high, as I worry about what admitting this will do to my friendships, or family relationships, but the risk to me is worth it....I am going to die if I don't try.

Tonight, as I sat in my meeting, the spirit was so strong...I have to keep going, I have to put one foot in front of the other, everyday. Maybe, having the Lord on my side, I will be able to reach my goals...no, I know having Him on my side, I can conquer anything if I have faith and trust in Him and humanity.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2017-02-15T00:43:00.001-07:00

This handsome boy is my Valentine. Cody is my sweet, brave, funny baby boy, but don't tell him I said that! Cody is always protecting me, thinking of me, hugging, smiling, and always yelling...."hi mom, I love you!"

Yesterday, Cody said the sweetest thing to me while we were all chatting at the dinner table. Riley asked everyone what time in history we would like to visit. We all stated different time periods in history, me 1800's, Riley Jurrasic, Kenley 1840, and Cody sat thinking for a moment then said, "I want to go back in time so I could come out of your tummy mom." Oh, my heart melted, but I knew the thing I had to do....I explained to Cody just how important his birth mom was to him and Heavenly Father needed it to be this way, but I was glad he came to me when he did. Yes, I missed those sweet baby years in his life, but I got him when he was a sweet 4- year-old.

Oh how Cody can talk you to pure craziness, but his love and innocence is so strong. This morning at 6:30, Cody handed me a Valentine. Now, Cody showed just how much of a man he is...."here mom, I got you this so we can watch a movie and eat them!" He handed me a small bag of chips...."we, I said," I think they are mostly for his little tummy!

When Cody was first introduced to us, as I have written before, he was pictured to us as a monster! This boy was diagnosed as Failure to Thrive, unable to learn, no communication, potty problems, but with a lot of love and patience this boy is still the size of a second grader at the age of 10, but boy does he have spirit! He can read, great at math, and athletic in that small body! Oh I love this boy of mine. I may not have had a date with Chris, or even received a Valentine from my dear husband....but Cody looks out for me. Heavenly Father has blessed me with amazing children!

Here is Cody when he first came to our home, he was then Sawyer.

Anxiety

2017-02-13T23:41:00.000-07:00

All of us feel anxiety, be it large or small. Anxiety for me is a huge part of my life, an unwanted part, mind you. My anxiety has gotten extremely worse in the past few months. It starts in the form of a knot in my stomach, my mind races, my heart is beating out of my chest, and boy oh boy, the sweats. The worst part of anxiety for me can be the worry, anger, and hatred towards myself.

Anxiety is worrying about the future, depression is worrying about the past....and by golly I have both. My day is a constant struggle of depression...dealing with my past life, and anxiety, which is worrying about what is to come or my ability to keep handling my current situation. What will happen today? Will Chris be alive much longer? Are my children going to be okay dealing with all this at such a young age, and for so long?

People are constantly telling me how strong and brave I am, but if they only knew what a failure I am at times. Sometimes I question God, sometimes I get angry, and how can I forget what a horrible parent I am at times....

What I wouldn't do to get rid of this pit in my stomach, to feel worthy, to be enough.

Chris continues to be lethargic and rarely aware of us. He struggles to keep anything down, and can barely grip a fork. This not knowing what's next is so hard.....

Watching Him Deteriorate

2017-02-11T22:44:00.003-07:00

     He was a older man, one eye, bald....um, he was not for me, or so I thought. Our first date was very normal, movie and dinner, and a short ride afterward. He says he knew I was the one for him, but I was not convinced, yet. Our second date, was kind of weird at first, but then we went to him home to get something to eat, but it is what came after that made me fall in love with him. He started to play, "I feel my Savior's Love," and man, I knew I loved this crazy guy. It was the beginning of it all.....
     When Chris and I were married about a year, we decided to move to Cedar City, Utah. It was the best move we ever made. We were married for about eight years before Riley came along so we had a good amount of time together, just us, which may have seemed hard at the time since we wanted a child so much, but I am so grateful for that time with just Chris and I. Chris and I traveled, we camped, we did basically whatever we wanted. Chris for a few years was in a country music band, and they were very good. In fact, if you know Tim Gates' music, that is who Chris played keyboards for, and it was so fun traveling and being a "roadie." Then, eventually, we decided we needed to get serious and focus on adoption and going to the Temple to be sealed together. The adoption process was hard, but very rewarding and Chris and I were never closer...going to the Temple often and loving life. Finally, the miracle of Riley happened and we were finally a family!
     In October of 2003, I was home being a mommy, and Chris came home from work one day distraught and upset...he said, "Brook, I can't see!" We immediately called a doctor and got him into the eye doctor...blood vessels had erupted in his one good eye (Chris has a fake right eye) and he couldn't see through all the blood. Chris was given a blessing by our sweet Bishop Haider. Chris had eye surgery and with lots of prayers Chris eventually he regained his sight, we were so worried Chris would never look at our sweet baby ever again...but he did.
     We moved back up to Lehi in 2005, Chris had a better job offer, and I wanted to nearer family with my new baby. Life was good, Chris was working at a great job making good money, we had a new home, we were trying for more children, even working with the foster care system with great kids...life was right where it should have been.
     We must have gotten too comfortable because in 2010 Chris became permanently blind, losing his job, I had four kids at home, boy the Lord must have had a lot of faith in us.
     The year 2014 was one of the worst to date, Chris was diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia, which means his body was unable to make any blood. Roughly, Chris needed a transfusion about one to two days, in Salt Lake at LDS Hospital...30 minutes away from our home. During that time, Chris had heart failure, chemo-twice, and a third of his lung removed. We did this routine for about two years!
     We found a test drug that was supposed to help Chris grow blood cells, and it did work for approximately one year; until 2016. In the summer of 2016 Chris started to have a hard time breathing, so I took him back up to LDS Hospital...he was in ICU about 4 times. On top of no blood, he now had developed a lung disease, and was near kidney failure. He didn't leave the hospital from June to August 26 (one day before Riley's birthday). Chris missed my 40th birthday and our 20th wedding anniversary. Chris being gone for so long was very difficult on the kids and I, me more physically because of the driving late back and forth to the hospital daily.
     Chris was home for a month, I believe, and then we had to rush him to the hospital again. This time, the doctors told us that Chris had a mass in his pelvic area and they were going to removing "boy parts," Chris was very upset, he had become unable to use the restroom on his own, couldn't walk well and was falling down. Fortunately, if that is a right word, they didn't remove anything, but this mass was wrapped around his spine. Many times during his recovery, they had to go back into his back and remove more of this mass, he is still recovering from this mass...he was on IV antibiotics for nearly two months, and now on oral, thank goodness, that was tough.
     Chris is a shell of himself now, he isn't that loud, laughing, singing, joking, crazy guy. The blood cancer doctors has told us that there is nothing else they can do, they won't give him blood on the account that his body just eats the blood and platelets, and the blood he gets, because he has had SO many blood products it hurts his heart....heart attacks, too much iron. We are managing his symptoms, and keeping him comfortable (if you can call it that). Chris is in a wheelchair full time when we can get him downstairs and outside, it is difficult getting the chair in and out of the car, I tell myself, "if I was older, man I couldn't do this!"
     It is so hard watching my husband lie on the couch and can't move, and when he does, he is very unbalanced. Chris is throwing up hourly. Chris has lost a lot of weight. Recently, not having much of an appetite. Just the other day, I was helping him into the other room and he fell flat on his back and hit his back on the hard part of the couch, and again flat on the floor barely missing the TV stand. Chris will completely pass out on me, and the other day he wouldn't come out of it at all. Chris falls and it is so hard for me to get him up. Chris stays at home when I am at work and I worry about him so much...if Chris falls he can bleed out and if my kids come home and see him I don't know what I would do.
     If someone would have told me that my life with Chris would be so difficult, I still would have picked being with my Chris. Chris is a child of God, he has been through so much in his life and I hate to see him struggle so much. He has deteriorated so much this past few months and I worry so much about him passing on, but he is stubborn, but that is ok! What will I do without my Chris? I don't know. I don't want to find out. I love you Chris.

Isolation vs Freedom

2017-02-09T23:51:00.003-07:00

Tonight I forced myself to a 12-Step meeting that is put on by my church, in an effort to help me deal with the things happening in my life right now. Admitting to you all that I need this meeting may shock or surprise you, but I have learned a lot in the past three weeks about myself that I am done pretending to "have it all together," and step out from the darkness of isolation and into the light of freedom from depression.
As I spoke in my meeting I felt compelled to share my new insight. Many years now I have hidden in isolation from people, ashamed of who I am. As the years have gone by, I would sit in my bathroom overwhelmed with my life, unsure of what to do.
My friends would ask, "what can I do?" "How are you?"
"Oh, there is nothing, I am great."
Lies, I was dying inside. People were always saying how proud they were of me, and I would feel worse that I was failing and they didn't know the truth. So, I isolated more, isolated from friends, family, church, God; I didn't deserve their love. Little did I realize the more I isolated from everything, I was only getting worse.
As Chris has progressively gotten worse with his health.....isolation has been my best friend, so I thought. As I have hit a rock bottom, I am trying to claw myself out of the dark into the light. Why did I not see that the further I was from the spirit of my Heavenly Father, the darker I got? Hence, this is why I have decided to stop hiding and be "real," yes, I am not holding it all together like I show, no Chris is not doing well, and I definitely need my Heavenly Father and Savior in my court.
I want to return to the Temple, I want to know my worth, I want to be able to ask for help, and accept it, I want to help others who also feel isolated...and help them into the light.
This is going to be a hard road, and it is hard being vulnerable, and admitting I can't do this alone without my Heavenly Father. In admitting these things....I hope to someday feel worthy to pray, worthy of His love, and have him lift me as Chris struggles and be able to care for him the best I can.
Thank you for allowing me to open up and heal.

Cold Feet

2017-02-07T00:08:00.000-07:00

This photo reminds of good times when Chris was well and not sick.

Things have been building up in my head, too much just sitting in there, stewing. Three years or so since I have written anything on the blog, too worried to let things out of my head, fear of being too vulnerable and getting hurt. Here I am, cold feet and all. I am determined to write on this blog religiously, ready to heal my mind through the written word.

Life hasn't been easy for me, like many others in this world, and I am hoping to help you, me, and others by writing about real life, real issues in the world. My husband and kids are my world, my meaning in this life, but finding me, myself is a journey I am going to take and I would like you to come along, maybe learn something about yourself along the way.

Please excuse my rusty writing, I hope it gets better as I become more open about my life.

Thanks for reading.....

Long time Iv never seen

2017-01-28T20:38:00.001-07:00

Hey-O hi! I'm not brook she's my mom I'm riley (the popular one she ALLWAYS writes about😂😝🤗😎) but um I wanted 2 write about how I was just reading some of her posts and how different r writing is like how r spelling is so different with obrivz my mom hates it when I use obrivz haha lol k so like we both ramble on n on non non non non non non non an so on haha lol and we both like to make ppl laugh so if she disides 2 post this an ppl read but nobody laughs imma cry😿 so ya but like we r totes dif 👈😂 but we're complete alllike an when she reads this she's gonna think im cra cra 😂 srry I think this is hilarious that if she posts this it's gonna have proper grammar n spelling then this n her ocd'S probes gonna fly off the charts when she reads this😯😂 but when she does read this I hope she doesn't think I'm tryna b meanda her cuz I luv her so ye an if u made it this far don't think this is the end cuz there's 2 more pages left 2 read... Lol jk IMJKLOLHA srry if u couldn't understand any of this but it wasn't that important anyways soo ye uh cya maybe but bye!👋

Exposed and Vulnerable

2013-06-12T06:19:00.000-06:00

The hours have passed by quickly; too quickly. The moon was rising as I started my night, and now the sun brings in the new day as my night is closing...no sleep in sight. My mind raced all night; one minute about the kids, the next about Chris, the house being clean, the lawn being mowed (is it too early to mow), the bills being paid...and it hits me, "Chris is not making his own blood." Tonight, as I sat in our "not too comfy," brown, hand-me-down, leather chair, trying to fall asleep...I realized just how serious the situation we are in, really is, and I started to cry, alone in this beat up, brown chair. Why am I always having these sad moments, alone?

Last fall, I was sitting in a woman's growth class over at UVU, and someone stated, "we are most connected to people when we are finally vulnerable and exposed." Being exposed and vulnerable is not my strong suit.....it is more like my stretchy, not-so-supportive, old swimsuit, not strong at all. Independent, strong-willed, stubborn, quiet, now, that is my strong suit....avoiding "hard" conversations, that is a talent I have perfected over time.

Sometimes, I wonder, do people really want to know how I feel? Feelings of sadness, loneliness, anger, frustration, happiness; these are feelings humans feel, no one is exempt, unless of course, you are medically unable. Are we willing to admit to our peers that we feel these feelings, sometimes yes, but others I think we shy away from exposing ourselves in fear of rejection and ridicule...but don't we all feel these feelings at some point in our life or another? Can we learn from each other? Can we have better relationships with our family and friends?

During this trial in my life, of Chris' illnesses, I have been very strong (on the outside), stubborn, unwilling to accept that our life is any different than it was eight months ago, unwilling to let people in to my real feelings and let them see me vulnerable. There have been times in the past six months that I have sat in the halls of the many hospitals, crying, wishing I had someone by my side, holding my hand...did I ask? No. Should I have asked? Yes. Was I unwilling to admit that I needed people? Yes.

Several months ago, after many months of hospital rooms, driving many miles, late hours watching my husband sleep, our Bishop came to me, and did not ask if I needed help, he stated..."this trial is not only for you. We need to learn to serve;" I was uncertain of what to say, I couldn't say, "no." So, for a month, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we received meals from wonderful ward members who loving cooked for my family; and to tell you the truth, it was a relief to have my family fed.

When I sit down to write, I think, "should I say that?" Well, I am trying to work on being vulnerable and honest with my feelings; I never know who else is feeling the same way, and maybe being open can bridge gaps in relationships and start new ones; learning from one another.

My motto in life is, "walk in other's shoes first." Never will I look at someone and assume their life is perfect. Never will I look at a person who seems to have it together and think, "they don't feel bad about themselves." We all have feelings, we all have doubts, we all have trials, we all have that voice inside our head that challenges us everyday...for good or bad. When we start to look at people as "people," we can finally be "real."

Now, this post is odd, and I know it sounds a bit preachy, but tonight I have been thinking a lot about sharing how I really feel, and if it is okay, and if it is okay that I am sad or angry about my situation...and I have to think, "yes, I can't be the only person that feels this way, there has to be someone else."

When I see so many people on the Internet that are so positive and inspirational...and I think, "wow, why can't I feel that way all the time, they must really be a good person, where am I going wrong?" No, I have to believe that my being honest and raw about my emotions is real, even if it is sad or anger, and it is difficult to hear.

Please, don't get me wrong, I have many days of inspiration and gratefulness, and I know I am blessed beyond measure...but I believe my openness can start "real," conversations, and we can strengthen our relationships with each other that will last forever; being vulnerable isn't that bad, after all. I guess I need to buy a stronger swimsuit.

Did this make any sense?

ICU

2013-06-02T01:21:00.001-06:00

A love story begins very simple and uncomplicated; filled with excitement, hope,and lot of anticipation of the future. As with every love story, a book with empty pages is given...to fill with the rest of this amazing story. Each love story goes through good times and bad, heartache and joy, tragedy and triumph, but the story keeps going, growing with each passing year....becoming a best seller.

Chris and I's love story is simple, but not uncomplicated, by any means...and our story may have more heartache and tragedy than we anticipated or wanted as a young couple, but it is our novel to write. Like most couples, we never know when the plot will turn sour or find treasure among the pages; but like any story, there has to be a war and a victory, a hero and villain, and hopefully, a happy ending.

My prince lay sleeping, writhing in pain, unable to communicate verbally, and my heart was aching at the scene before me. Instead of a forest full of talking critters and small little men, the setting of this story takes place in a cold hospital room in the thoracic ICU at the Medical Center in Murray, Utah....and this backdrop for our story was costing around $8000 dollars a day! We spare no expense for a good story.

The surgery to remove Chris' lung took roughly around eight hours; eight hours of complete worry and fatigue, there was no magazine that could keep my interest, television...forget it, my mind was on my best friend being cut open in the room down the hall, having a major organ removed.

Nine o'clock pm, and I was finally called into the ICU to see my husband; he was stable and doing okay. As I held my husband's hand, Chris mumbled, "my hand, my hand hurts." I hated to see him in so much pain and discomfort. The ICU nurses took over immediately trying to make Chris as comfortable as possible, checking vitals, making sure pain medication was working, and helping Chris with his nausea as he woke up from anesthesia. Chris had approximately eight IVs, all working to keep Chris stable...blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen, all beeping at once.

During the surgery, Chris bleed out severely, and needed several blood transfusions...taking out a lung is bloody work, especially if it is diseased and dead. Poor Chris had blood smeared on his face, under his fingernails, and on his clothes....I tediously worked to clean him up, I know he wouldn't want to look this messy, so I took care of him, I know he would do the same thing for me.

Chris was in the ICU for nearly a week, while he slowly became stronger as he walked the halls of the ICU with tubes and IVs hanging from him, he was a fighter, and I was in awe of his bravery. How can I complain about such small things when this man has been through so much?

Chris was in pain, unable to care for himself, required constant attention with simple tasks, but his spirits were high, even making the nurses and staff laugh. I would walk through the halls of the ICU and nurses would say..."your husband is a crack-up!" The first time Chris went for a walk after his surgery (which was obviously a painful ordeal), he sat in an armchair slowly moving his legs back and forth proclaiming, "I am walking horizontally!" a quote from the movie Pitch Perfect; it was so funny, the physical therapist couldn't stop smiling....that is my husband, anything for a laugh.

Even as he prepared to leave the ICU, Chris was still left with an epidural for his pain, another chest tube, many IV fluids hanging from his pole, and constant blood transfusions. Chris may have been leaving the ICU, but we still had a long road ahead of us...we would be in Murray nearly another month, still recovering from his right lung removal, the chest tube would not stop draining blood and inflammation.

When could our family be together under one roof again? When could I stop driving and falling asleep at the wheel? When could my kids stop worrying if daddy was coming home? When could Chris be free from his prison?

Seventeen years ago, this coming June, I walked down the isle towards my prince, anticipation in my heart of a family, excitement for the adventure we would write in the blank pages of our book...but you know, our story is not over yet, it is just beginning; just you wait for the exciting part...these stories are gonna be nothing compared to what is next!

Stay tuned for the next chapter in our love story....

Christmas Eve "Snoopy" Houses 2012

2013-06-01T21:47:00.000-06:00

No words needed....Christmas Eve my kids were sick, so we didn't go to anyone's house. We made Snoopy Gingerbread Houses. Look at the faces....I am crazy about taking pictures and I am glad, I can't imagine not having these memories.

The only person without their tongue sticking out is Asalee...everyone else has Chris' goofy tongue stick out thingy problem, and yes, that is the official name.

Family Christmas Party 2012

2013-05-30T22:30:00.000-06:00

Chris' family has a Christmas party every year, and the whole family gets together and visits, decorates gingerbread houses, and the kids play....and eat too much! It is a great bonding event with family we do not get to see all the time!

Here are some pictures of my kids at grandma and grandpa's house; this was the first year for Asalee, she really enjoyed meeting all her new cousins, Aunts and Uncles....I think it was even a first for Cody with some of the family, it was really great.

The kids ran around all day, playing with their cousins. Cody, Asalee, and Riley played with their cousin Allison and Madison doing each other's hair all day; they really love all their cousins! It is fun to get together and visit with family we do not get to see very often.

We got to meet our new nephew Kyler, who was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis; he is sure a cute little guy. Courtney and Greg sure have their hands full, and wish them the best; and can't wait to see them again soon. Brandsen and Riley are pretty close in age, and it has been fun to watch them grow into little adults.

It is great to visit with some of my sister and brother-in-laws. We love all of Chris' family, and wish them well; even the ones we didn't get to see.

We can't wait to see them again!

Ready for Chemo....or not.

2013-05-29T22:31:00.002-06:00

There are three stages in the process of trying to correct Chris' Aplastic Anemia; first suppress his immune system and try a chemotherapy called ATG (horse base), second wait three months and hope the first dose worked, if not try again (rabbit base this time), and third bone marrow transplant if the first two efforts do not work. We do not want to get to bone marrow transplant, we want the ATG to work...if we go to bone marrow transplant the odds go to 40% in our favor. No bone marrow transplant!

It was the first of April, we packed Chris' bags and headed up to LDS for the seven day intensive chemotherapy. The doctors and staff took all precautions, testing everything, making sure all the i's were dotted and t's crossed...heart tests, CT scans, x-rays, blood tests, you name it, they did it...they did not want anything wrong to happen during the ATG.

Two days in, and the chemotherapy had not started, we were getting nervous....why hadn't we started?

BAM! Chris needed another lung biopsy! The doctors felt it was too dangerous to start the chemotherapy with a looming mysterious lung problem; the x-rays were making them nervous. The doctors did not want to start the chemotherapy and have it attack Chris' lung and completely destroy it and destroy him...okay, we agreed, we needed to be careful. The blood problem had to wait, we needed to find out once and for all what was going on with Chris' lungs.

The biopsy scared me to death, here I was sending my husband, yet again, into surgery. I waited for him, hoping they would find out what was wrong with his lungs, finally, so we could proceed with his ATG therapy.

These surgeries were taking a toll on Chris' body, and he was extremely weak and dazed. As I sat in Chris' room waiting for the biopsy to be finished, he finally reappeared. The surgeon very quickly stated, "I could not get through his lung, it will need to be removed," and the surgeon left, just like that. What kind of news was that? You do not just drop that kind of news and LEAVE!

My world was turned upside down in a matter of seconds...his lung needed to be removed? Where did that come from? Chris had blood problems, not lung cancer! Or did he? They did not know.

I sat crying, waiting for Chris to wake up, nervous to give him the news that his lung was going to be removed and we were being moved to Intermountain Medical Center in Murray for the surgery...tomorrow!

As I told Chris, his eyes welled up, I could see how scared he was in his already fragile body...how could he go through more surgeries, let alone, a lung removal? Chris and I held hands and cried, feeling alone in this big world, wanting this nightmare to end. When? When is it going to end?

Chemotherapy...not yet, lung removal...next step. Where in the world were we going to end up next?

LDS has a positive note wall...family can write love notes to their loved ones as they walk the halls (which is all they can do). Here is my note to Chris....

Just Another Day

2013-05-26T12:31:00.001-06:00

Today is a Sunday, and I should be home getting my family ready for church, but I am not, I am sitting in the hospital with Chris. Chris needs red blood cells today. Red blood cell days are my least favorite days...it means a long day, two hours per pint of blood, with a minimum of two pints.

Today, it took us about 35 minutes to drive to LDS Hospital, but it can take up to an hour or more, depending on traffic.

We pull into the smelly, dark parking garage and find a spot close to the elevator because it is hard for Chris to walk too far. We ride the cramped, dirty elevator down to the street level, where I grasp Chris' hand and help navigate him up and down curbs, stairs, and finally we make it into our "second home."

Chris and I wait in the waiting room, surrounding by many other people in the same situation; spouses waiting for loved ones, loved ones waiting for blood, scary receptionist who may snap (yes, I am horrified), doctors coming back and forth from clinic to inpatient, and my favorite...the nurses we call family.

Finally, they call Chris back to get his CBC, which is an every visit thing...they need to see how much blood he will need for the day, and if he needs fluid or other IV medicine to maintain his levels. Potassium and Magnesium take four hours to infuse...fortunately I can do his IV magnesium at home through his "pick-line," in his right arm.

We wait an hour, sometimes two for the results of the CBC...and when I say wait, we literally wait in the waiting room, doing nothing but breathing, staring at the walls or each other and an occasional phone check.

Today, being Sunday, it only took about 45 minutes to get the results...a good day. The results are, Chris needs red blood, it is low.

We are then, moved back into the stalls, the ones with the thin, beige curtains I have mentioned before. We then wait for the blood bank to deliver his blood products, which can take anywhere from half an hour to four hours! Today, we only waited about a half hour...again, it is Sunday.

Chris' vitals are continually checked throughout the transfusion process. Sometimes, blood pressure can sky-rocket, and other times allergic reactions can occur requiring a little medicine. Chris usually pulls through his transfusions well...he has had so many I have lost count.

So, after a long day at the hospital, Chris and I trudge back to the car which is sitting in the smelly garage across the street from the hospital...and drive another hour home, exhausted from our adventure at the clinic in East 8. We return home to our family, and pretend everything is normal...cleaning, homework, dinner, playing with kids, watching some TV when the kids are finally asleep, and praying the next day is better than today.

Today, I am struggling to keep my eyes open...tired from my day of chores yesterday. I managed to till the garden, plant a few plants, weed, put the pool up, wrestle with Cody, play some catch with the kids, and some crafts with the girls; a full week of fun squished into one day. Now, I did not do housework yesterday, which I feel horrible about, but I guess I will get to it....maybe tomorrow.

Here are some pictures of Chris getting his blood, and his impersonation of "Bane" from Batman...notice the curtain I have written about in other posts. I am the one sitting behind the camera in the hard-as-rock chair!

This is the street view in front of LDS Hospital, a pretty view...notice the parking garage to the right.

Daddy is Home

2013-05-24T12:02:00.000-06:00

The definition of neutropenic is that a body has no neutrophils in their system. Neutorphils are the germ fighters in the blood. Since Chris does not produce his own blood, he has no neutrophils in his system; which makes it very easy for Chris to get infections, and with his blood issues, he cannot get sick, or it could be fatal. Diarrhea can wipe out his entire immune system or mean a deadly bacteria, a cold can take him down, forget the flu! We as a family, had to be careful, we have a very sick daddy.

When Chris was finally able to return home for one night, we took all kinds of precautions; masks, cleansers, and we made sure the kids stayed off Chris.

Movie night at the Long house consists of a movie, popcorn, a small treat...and usually a kid-type meal prior to the movie. We were so excited for Chris to be home, it had been a long seventeen days since he was first admitted to the hospital. I believe we watched the movie Brave, which was very good.

My reason for posting these pictures are simply because they are not normal family pictures...look at my children sitting next to their father, unable to touch, hug, and snuggle with him. As we all hid behind our masks, I silently was filled with joy and grief at the scene laid before me.

Chris is my best friend, and has been since I met him in 1996. Chris and I have been through so much together...and our marriage has never been perfect. We have taken each other's hands and took each step together, no matter how big of step it may be. We have been through infertility, blindness, AVIG treatments at home for his autoimmune disease, foster care, surgery after surgery which finally led to legal blindness, role changes, me going back to school to support my family, my brain issues, and now Chris' lung removal and Aplastic Anemia. Please, don't get me wrong, I am very honored to have gone through these trials, and allowed to "know me." I look at my husband and I am filled with love and admiration...he is so strong, filled with fight; I feel guilty, at times, for being so weak.

My hope and prayer is that my husband will be by my side, watching our daughters get married, seeing our son become a man, and spoiling our grandchildren.

This night, I held onto my family...we had each other for one night, and I wasn't going to waste this moment worrying about the future; there would be plenty of time in the future for that.

Lung Biopsy

2013-05-23T21:23:00.002-06:00

After a week in American Fork Hospital, the doctors and staff came to a conclusion about Chris...they did not know what was wrong with him. Our next step, would be Utah Valley Regional Hospital for a lung biopsy.

Dr. Jolley sat us down, looked at us with very comforting eyes, made us laugh with his jokes for a few minutes, then gave us the bad news, "we have exhausted our efforts, and we need to move you to Provo for a lung biopsy. Your bone marrow biopsy confirms that there is something wrong, and you are not producing any new blood, but we do not know what is causing the bone marrow to fail. Our only next option is to look at your lungs because your breathing is so labored and your chest x-rays and CT scans shows a type of pneumonia, possibly. Possibly, your lungs could be causing your bone marrow to be out of whack. We will move Chris in the next few minutes by ambulance. Mrs. Long, you can follow the ambulance in your car, and bring Chris' stuff."

In order for any type of surgery one must have at least 150,000 platelets, Chris had 14,000. In order for Chris to have such an invasive surgery they felt Utah Valley would be better equipped for such a procedure, in case he bled out during surgery. What if Chris bled out during surgery? I was terrified.

As the ambulance crew wheeled Chris away, I was left holding his bag of undies, a bag of my snacks Denise gave me, a bedpan, and the rest of Chris' dinner that I would bring for him to finish later; and it hit me hard, like a ton of bricks. Here I was standing in an empty hospital room holding all my belongs and the tears just started to pour down my cheeks. The poor nurses that we had grown to know through the past week tried to comfort me and offered to help me to my car, and I let them.

When in my car, I couldn't drive, I couldn't think, I couldn't do this....I called my friend Kathy, and she calmed me down, comforting me through the phone. This was too big for me anymore, I needed help. Finally, I got my self composed enough to drive to Provo. Driving through the tears.

Scared to death, I walked through the halls feeling like a fish out of water, trying to find the right floor...all the way to the top, the cancer floor. Why were we going to the cancer floor? My arms full of plastic bags, full of clothes, I sat down in Chris' room and waited, and waited. I heard Chris cough down the hall....they sent me to the wrong room! Finally, I found my husband, and we were not separated anymore...I look back and I think that is probably what scared me the most, not knowing where Chris was going, and how could I help him so far away.

The nurses immediately started to pump Chris full of platelets in preparation for the biopsy...they wanted them to be at least 50,000. The lower the platelets you have, the thinner your blood is, and the less ability you have to clot, and a greater risk of infection with no white blood cells. It was a long night...the chairs at Utah Valley really suck, but who is complaining, right?

Before the biopsy, we were giving the stats, complications, risks, what would happen after surgery...all that jazz. Chris would have a chest tube placed for about a week after to clear inflammation and fluid buildup. However, because Chris was a bleeding risk, he would not have an epidural like most people, he would only have IV pain meds, I felt so bad for my dear husband. Hadn't Chris been through enough with all the tests and blood? Little did we know, this nightmare would continue into May and beyond.

Some family came to visit, Trudy brought my kids to visit, and our dear Bishop Needles and Brother Webster came and gave Chris and I a blessing (Chris put his loving, weak hands on my head from his hospital bed), beautiful blessings of comfort. Our Bishopric has amazing, strong, spiritual men in it, and I wouldn't know where I would be today with out these men; my family and I owe them the world.

The surgery didn't take too long, Chris' parents and my friend Kathy came and sat with me; it was a Sunday, I remember taking the Sacrament in the waiting room; praying and hoping Chris would be alright.

As they were bringing Chris up to his room from the biopsy on his stretcher, I was allowed to walk beside him. Here was my sweet husband, coming out of surgery, vomiting, crying, tubes coming out of him...I was scared for him, but my motherly instincts kicked in and I helped him the best I knew how...with all my love.

We would be in Utah Valley for another ten days, waiting for the biopsy results and for Chris to heal from the chest tube. Chris was weak, could barely walk, and still needed blood...but he was getting stronger.

I sat by Chris' side waiting for him to recover, I wanted my family to be together again. Riley even came and spent one of the days with him watching cartoons...it was good for both of them. One evening, I went home early and got the kids and brought them back to the hospital for dinner in the cafeteria...and we ate with daddy.

Finally, the day would come when they would let Chris go home, after 17 days in the hospital...we as a family would sleep under one roof, at last. The only bad thing was, it would only be for one night...the test results showed pneumonia, but they had found Chris to also have a type of leukemia called Aplastic Anemia. Aplastic Anemia is a condition where your bone marrow stops working, stops producing red blood, platelets, and white blood cells...pancytopenia; if let untreated, it would be fatal immediately.

LDS Hospital contacted us and made an appointment for Chris to enter into their clinic...the BMT (bone marrow transplant) unit. Apparently, life was not going to slow down....it had other plans.

January 26, 2013

2013-05-22T23:28:00.002-06:00

January twenty-sixth is a day I will not soon forget; the day my life changed.

Chris and I had planned a special day for the kids, a monster truck rally. Since Chris has become legally blind, funds have not been "great." However, I saved and found some good prices for a monster truck rally at the Maverick center in West Valley. Our kids have sacrificed along with Chris and I, giving up a lot, going without, and Chris and I wanted to do something for our kids, finally.

A week before our special outing, Chris started to feel kind of sick, we thought maybe a kidney infection. A week before the rally I had also found out I needed to have brain surgery. Wow, what a week that was, but nothing was going to stop us from having some fun and seeing some trucks smash some cars!

Chris continued to feel ill, I took him into the doctor and had him checked...the diagnosis was possible diabetes complications or kidney infection. Chris continued to go downhill...he was throwing up twenty-four hours a day, not eating, fatigued, falling down, unable to stand or walk, and he had a hard time breathing; I was scared and called my doctor again. My doctor said, "take him to the emergency room now." Of course, Chris talked me out of it, and stated he would be fine...men.

January twenty-sixth, monster truck rally day had finally come, the kids and I were so excited! Chris woke up very fatigued, throwing up, labored breathing, no appetite, which was usual, for the past week. Finally, I put my foot down and said, "I am calling Vangie and Mark and having them take the kids to the rally, and I am taking you to the ER!" Again, from Chris, "no, the kids are so excited to go, take them. If I still feel yucky after the rally, you can take me to the hospital then." Against everything in my body, I said, "fine, but you call me if you need anything!"

During the rally, I tried to call Chris, no answer.

After the rally, no answer from Chris.

Finally, the phone rang, and it was Chris. Hurrah, I was worried he was in big trouble and passed out in the locked house. Well, it wasn't much better, he stated that he had been laying on the floor since we left and throwing up, and he couldn't move or walk, and he did not sound very alert; he had heard me call, but couldn't get to the phone. Freaked out, that is exactly what I did...."are you okay? What can I do? Can you open the doors for Mark?" Our doors were locked, Chris was passing out on the floor, I immediately started to drive very fast...almost hitting a truck. Vangie called Mark to have him go get Chris and take him to the ER, but Mark was not home....Ah! You know, that moment we all dread, being away from home when something horrible happens.

It took me about thirty-minutes to get home, a very long thirty-minutes. Vangie took my kids, and I ran in the house to behold my husband on the floor, very out-of-it, and very pale. After much probing and arguing, I finally got Chris down the stairs and into the car, barely. I have no doubt that my Heavenly Father blessed me that day with getting Chris down those stairs and into my van....I should not have been able to get him down the stairs, as we would later find out why, and just how bad it was.

I drove to the hospital as fast as I possibly could, ran into the ER to get a wheel chair, and wheeled my husband into the ER with all the strength, exhausted...he looked bad, really bad. Chris was vomiting, passing out, unable to talk, pale as a piece of paper.

Twenty minutes later, Chris was laying on a bed in the ER, he was safe, I felt much better...my husband would be okay. Unfortunately, nobody could start an IV on Chris, nobody could find a vein to get him the fluids he badly needed. Eventually, they put a line in his shoulder. I was so scared, what was going on? How could his diabetes be this bad? Why was my husband so pale and unresponsive?

"We found out why you look so poorly," a nurse stated, "okay," I thought, "then tell us." A doctor followed the nurse in..."we don't know how you and your wife got you in here, or why you are still talking to us, you have no blood in your body!" I almost fell out of my chair! How could this happen?

Words were flying everywhere, "cancer, bleeding, leukemia, prostate, colon, transfusions, admission to hospital." What? Wait a minute, I thought this was just a diabetes complication? Chris was looked over and tested for any signs of bleeding internally....it was a good thing he was incoherent, some of those tests were not very fun and invasive.

As Chris was being wheeled away for x-rays on his chest, I was shocked, started to cry...I didn't know what to do, who do I call, do I call anyone? I felt so alone surrounded by all the hospital staff as I feared for my husband's life. A kind nurse came over to me, "don't worry, it will be okay...don't worry about the money," she must have seen the look in my eyes, "how am I going to pay for this?" Chris does not have insurance...we have tried mind you, but was he was denied.

As I followed Chris to his room in the American Fork hospital, my heart hoped for this to be something "fixable."

After multiple blood transfusions, bone marrow biopsy, x-rays, visits with many doctors and administrators; we still did not know what was wrong with Chris after a whole week. Was my husband going to be alright?

So, as the story started this twenty-sixth day of January, it was full of fun with my kids, monster trucks, cotton candy...and ended with blood, sitting in a hard chair watching my unconscious husband, yearning for this nightmare to be over.

As I think back to this day, I am filled with guilt, I should have taken Chris into the ER when I had my first inclination. How could I have left my husband? My poor husband was in extreme distress, as I screamed and yelled for a stinky monster truck to crush a car.....as I sat with my amazing children. However, I look back at that day and think that was my last day with no cancer, no fear of my husband dying, no chemotherapy, no lung removal, no biopsies, no hospital beds or ICU...a feeling of safety replaced with uncertainty; I guess I will look back at that day and love that day with my kids, but hate that day....because the ending of that day is still happening and it has not stopped. I yearn and pray for these days to end, so I can feel safe again...I wish that day would end.

Superheros!

2013-05-21T00:09:00.000-06:00

These kids are my superheros; superheros that make my day bright with laughter.

Ruby and Cody are good friends, and I love Ruby like my niece...and we can't forget Seth and Wilson!

These two kiddos can run up and down the halls of my home for hours-on-end pretending to save you from bad guys and "wobbers."

Look at those cute smiles, don't they say it all? Nothing in this world is stopping them from having fun. These pictures make me smile and look forward to another day of pretending to fight the "bad guys."

I love you dearly Cody and Ruby! Thanks Mrs. Wood for allowing my family, to know you and your beautiful family! My kids couldn't ask for better friends to grow up with.

Life would be so dull without these kids' smiles and imaginations!

Off to fight the "bad guys!" I better put on my super suit, but I think I need to take it out a bit, I may have grown just a little.