It feels strange to realize that you are the cause of your own sleeplessness. I had a roommate in my hospital room, and my snoring woke him shortly after I was shown to my bed.  He turned on his TV to muffle the noise, as drowning it out would have been a futile effort. The TV broke through my sleep, and woke me up.  I’m certain that my roommate and I cycled in and out of dozing for most of the early morning.  Later, when the sequence of likely events had clicked, I apologized to him.  He was gracious enough to accept.

It’s worth noting, I think, that hospital food is still terrible.  Though, now that I have an inkling of what it’s like to juggle dietary restriction (both before medical incident and after), budget, hitting some sort of healthiness goal, and more budget, I can’t imagine throwing in mass production.  Feeding patients, employees, and visitors in a hospital is putting food in a lot of mouths.  So, while I grumble about my dining experience, my hat is off to those doing the job.  You jump through hoops that I couldn’t.

When Nikki walked in to my room, my spirit soared.  I had guessed she was on her way, because she’d stopped responding to text messages and emails.  Having that knowledge didn’t dampen how good it felt, even a little bit.  She did a magnificent job trying to hold back her fear and worry for me – she only teared up once or twice.  Wren came with, since they were heading up to Frankenmuth together.  She gave me a sisterly punch in the arm and told me how stupid I’d been for not going in earlier.  I grinned, told her “Thank you,” and stuck out my tongue.  They both went on their day, despite their worry for me, and that made me happy.  I know it’s not easy to put aside worry and enjoy the moment.  I was glad not to ruin it for them.

My Dad’s a superhero.  I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that here, but he is.  I don’t ask the man where he hides his cape.  It’s a respect thing.  It’s there, though.  He made the trip up from the T-W-P to watch the kids so that Nikki and Wren could go on their trip while I was having my heart tested.  And after I was cleared to go home (did I mention that my heart seems to be perfectly healthy?), he and Cian initiated Project Get-Nikki-Flowers-While-She’s-Out-Of-Town-So-She-Gets-A-Happy-Surprise-Upon-Her-Return-Home to great success.  While I may have been the mastermind behind project GNFWSOOTSSGAHSUHRH, it couldn’t have been done without the superhero.

I would be a jerk if I didn’t mention Dad’s oft-underestimated partner in superheroing, Mom.  She stayed home with Grandma so that Dad could come up and help out.  I’m certain that she has a super power, and I think it revolves around putting up with Dad, Joe, and me.  Ask Nikki, that’s no task for a normal human.

Gentle reader, I would be happy to end my tale here.  Me, safely home with no heart problems.  Nikki and Wren, bellies full of Truth Chicken.  Dad, Acelyn, and Cian, hearts full of play time.  Alas, it was not to be.

Imagine this – you are a very attractive mother of four, and you are finally getting the trip to Frankenmuth with your might-as-well-be-sister-in-law that you and she have been trying to plan for two years. You will be shopping, having chicken dinner (for lunch) at the Bavarian Inn, and also shopping. On the side, there might also be some shopping. You are very excited about this trip, as well you should be.

Enter your stubborn husband, who has been complaining of a tightness on the left side of his chest and a knot under his shoulder blade on that same side for a good week. He has also been ignoring your suggestions (varying in intensity from subtle to using his middle name) to call his doctor. When he does finally get around to it, she tells him to go into the emergency room. The afternoon before your trip.

You, being the amazing wife that you are, tell him to go in right now. When he says he should wait until after the family goes to drop Hunter off at his grandmother’s, you are flummoxed. You ask him if he’s sure, and assure him that you can handle it yourself. No, he insists, he’ll come with, and then head into the hospital after everyone returns and the kids are in bed.  You suspect, out loud, that he’s more concerned with missing Hunter’s grandmother’s cooking than he is with providing company and a helping hand. His expression lets you know that you are not wrong.

The drop-off, visit, and dinner go well.  Hunter’s grandmother expresses to your husband that he should go in immediately, without question, just in case it’s a heart attack.  He assures her that he will, just as soon as he gets back to Lansing and the kids are in bed.  He makes good on his word, kisses you goodbye, and drives himself to the emergency room.

After a while, he sends you this text message:

“In a bed, had EKG already.”

To which you respond:

“wow that was quick. and?”

There’s no response for a while, so you send another:

“hello”

He ends up sending you this picture via email, with a caption:

“Almost drained a bag already.  You should go to bed.”

It’s midnight, but worry is making it easy to stay up. You reply.

“i want to know at least something”

“I hope that Wren is driving tomorrow. :(” He’s thinking that if you don’t get any sleep, you shouldn’t be driving.

“yeah I will go to bed after show if no news”

“Ok nurse says no news, but happy with saline going in.”

He was dehydrated, you bet. Twenty or so minutes go by. “anything?”

“Everything came back negative. Want to keep me overnight for a stress test in the morning. :-(”

“Okay, suppose to be leaving around ten tomorrow for the ‘muth”

“I know. I’m going to write an email to Dad about everything that’s gone on, and hopefully i don’t screw up everyone’s plans.”

Really?  That’s what he’s worried about? “*squeezes eyes together* Okay, so I have to try and sleep without you here.  This sucks.” You wait ten minutes for a response, and then send: “Well, I guess i am heading to bed.  With everything coming up fine I bet they are just trying to nickel and dime you now.  *wink*  I love you.”

“Love you too baby. Thinkin’ of you hard.”

So, we’re house hunting. Last week, due to sitcom levels of miscommunication, we looked at seven houses in one evening, with three of the kids along. The irony was thick and hearty, as this was exactly the situation that we were attempting to avoid, thanks to home buying experiences in my past.

I kept it together, tried to corral the kids (new house every 20 minutes, an infinite number of nooks and crannies to explore, so many shiny things to touch, how could they not go crazy?), and rode the roller coaster. There are a few things that I learned along the way that I’d like to share with all of you.

• Pastels are not always the best choice for every single surface in a home. Yes, that includes the outside.
• Moth ball smell is an immediate house hunting turn off.
• Your favorite houses will either have a mold-infested (and probably haunted) basement or be built on a cliff. Neither of these is good for raising small children.
• The several month long drought will pick that day to end, including the requisite downpours. This is not as bad as it sounds.
• When it comes to emergency drive-through dinner, McDonald’s will always be loved by the kids and hated by your stomach.

Now that we’ve got a better idea of what we want, what we don’t, and a cross section of what’s out there, it’s time to get pre-approved. Wish me luck.

The Nikki has a blog! She’s waxing verbose about the different aspects of her life (mother, wife, student, friend, etc.) in an attempt to break free of the shackles of academic style writing (among other things). Check out all of the hats she wears here!

Medical appointments abounded last week, I tell you what. Nikki threw her back out, we both got eye exams and ordered new glasses, and I drank a radioactive milkshake and then got my eating tubes x-rayed (these are different than the internet tubes). The after effects of barium are far more strange and uncomfortable than the chalkiness of the drink. I didn’t know that they had live X-ray machines that display live to a TV! It was pretty sweet.

I find myself, as I’m sure many are, worrying about money. As things go, we’ve got a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, so we’re better off than most of the world. We’ve got entertainment, transportation (as long as nothing breaks), and I’m employed.

I’ve started the next sentence two or three times, and I’m just not comfortable airing details. We’re riding the line close enough to worry every month, but not enough to lack an internet connection or have to sell our possessions. Others have it so much harder, but my family is what hits me in my gut.

Buying a house for a family of our size is cheaper monthly, in many cases by quite a bit, than renting. This is currently blowing my mind, and is bringing out a lot of personal demons regarding abandoning my dreams, permanence, and entropy vs. upkeep.

I’ve used my CPAP machine through the night three times in the past week. There is hope!

You may have noticed the lack of posting recently, or you may have seen an error or two on the page in the last couple of days.  Once again, the site has been moved from server to server. I’ve noticed a snappier response, and hope that you do as well.

More content is on the way, my steadfast readers. I have much to babble about.