I haven't posted anything here since "The Call". I have been writing other things and was busy with the end of school, etc., etc... But, mainly, I have gotten bored with my own drama. Dan became really sick in May and was hospitalized for nearly three weeks. She got a stomach virus that rolled into a full-blown lung infection complete with coughing up what appeared to be bits of tissue. (Yes, you've heard the phrase, "coughing up a lung"... Well, apparently, it's true. Not just a figure of speech.)
She was released from the hospital without truly being well and was hospitalized approximately two weeks later for decrease in lung function. However, she was discharged yesterday, on her Grammy's birthday, and is feeling so much better. My parents are going up tomorrow to visit for the weekend and Dave, Sarah, Micah and I will follow up with a visit next week.
I know everyone wants to know how she is doing and probably checks Caring Bridge, which I have also woefully neglected, but right now I am just weary. Weary of talking about it. Weary of living it. Weary of feeling it. Not every day. Not all the time. But, often. Often I just don't want to talk about how Dan is doing. She needs lungs. She struggles to breathe. And, it hurts my heart to watch her.
At the same time, I refuse to live a sad, sorry life. Screw that. Our last visit, we packed up the oxygen tanks, rented a pontoon boat and cruised Lake Purdy in Birmingham. Our next visit we plan to go to the Birmingham Zoo. But, how is she doing? Well, she can't walk up the driveway at her dad's house because he has a huge hill. We push her in a wheelchair for walks longer than a few hundred yards and she uses the little motorized shopping cart at Target. When she is really winded, she has to work so hard just to shower that sometimes she is sweating so bad after the exertion that she could really turn around and shower again. And, she misses her friends. She doesn't really have the opportunity to get out and meet friends her own age because it is a little hard to be a beautiful, blond bombshell sporting an oxygen canula and with an oxygen tank in tow. (Don't get me wrong, though... She totally rocks the look.) And, she smiles and tells me every day that she is 'fine'... Always fine.
So, I'm humbled. I stand in the shadow of her greatness and try to be worthy of being her mom. I walk around emotionally torn in half all the time. A part of my heart lives in Birmingham with her while I try desperately not to neglect Sarah, Micah and Dave by becoming mired in fear about Dan. I have moments of such faith and trust in God, I shock myself.
Still, I miss her. If CF hadn't ravaged her lungs like it did, she would be attending our local community college, working a little job somewhere, and enjoying time with friends. She would have a boyfriend (if she wanted one). Her life would look very different.
I have moments of righteous indignation when I am so angry about the injustice of it all. But, then I remember I can't afford to be angry. I don't want to waste time being angry. I don't want to waste time being sad or feeling sorry. Life is too short. So, I take a deep breath. I breathe thinking of Dan... Sending loving intent in that breath to her new lungs that are still walking around in the world... And, I go back to feeling grateful that I have a wonderful, beautiful nearly 19-year-old daughter who is strong and competent. I have a spunky, witty nearly 16-year-old daughter managing to go forward and live life with fervor even though she has CF too. I have an incredibly smart, loquacious nearly 3-year-old who makes us all smile and laugh with joy in the moment. And, I have a supportive, attentive husband with whom to share it all. My family and friends are the best.
Thus, I am grateful in this moment, but overall I just get tired of the play-by-play. We are doing O.K. I'm sorry for not posting more regularly. But, when I'm scared, I'd just rather not say so. When I'm sad, I'd just rather let it pass. I'd rather embrace the joy of life and bask in the sunlight of the spirit as it graces our lives. Thank you so much for caring. Thanks for asking. Thanks for praying. And, thanks for your love.
