"Got Yer Back!"

*NOTE: The following is a part of an on-going series of "Stroke Posts". For an introduction to "Stroke Posts" click HERE.

June: 2002
I had never before looked at a house and judged it's wheelchair accessibility.

But the day I was told by the Physical Therapist that Ben was going to have a "Day Pass" from In-patient Rehab I went straight back to our 1300 square foot townhouse and measured doorways, removed rugs, folded up bathroom floor mats, and added a handicap chair to the shower.

I had everything figured out before the Big Day....except the stairs.

Ben had been in the hospital (between the ICU, the 2nd floor East Wing, and Inpatient Rehab) for 3 months. When I wasn't working over-time, I was at the hospital until the middle of the night. I would then drive home (half asleep) and return early the next morning for a visit before work.

So the fact that my new husband was going to be able to leave the hospital for a few hours one beautiful Spring day (on my day off) gave me the motivation to figure out any obstacle.

The rules were clear: I had to get Ben home (no field trips), and let him rest in bed. We had to limit his activity still, so he didn't get too exhausted. Ben was already doing three-times more Physical Therapy sessions every day than the "typical" patient.

After pulling up to the garage door, I helped Ben into the house via wheelchair. Once we got in the house and to the stairs, he pulled himself up with the banister. His left side was still extremely limited, so he had to rely on pulling himself up with his right arm and leaning on me to support his left side.

I didn't realize until I was holding my 200-pound husband up (mid-stair) that I was not going to fit beside him on our tiny townhouse stairs. Worried I would slip and drop him if I got above him on the stairs, I stepped down a few and got behind him. For some reason, I thought that if he DID loose his strength and slip I was going to be able to catch him somehow.

I guess I thought I was Superwoman.

Sure enough, toward the top half of the stairway, Ben started to get shakey. "I just need to stop for a minute to rest," but he needed me to support him while he rested. "I think I'm going to fall!"

With my right hand on the banister (to support myself), and my left hand picking up and holding his foot on every step, I was out of hands. Thinking quickly as he started to teeter back and forth from fatigue, I held him up with the only thing I had left to offer: my head.

Ben's "Rear End" was at just the right height for me to push the top of my head firmly against his "cheeks" and give him just enough support to prevent a potentially BAD fall down the stairs.

(I wish I was making this up.)

Frozen on the stairs, we had to use every ounce of energy we had left to hold that position and NOT fall down in an exhausted heap from laughing so hard.

The physical ordeal of JUST coming into the house, climbing the stairs, and changing into some jammies was enough to send Ben into dreamland. He slept for most of that first trip home. I can say that coming down the stairs was much easier and eventhough we were only able to have a few hours away from that dreaded hospital, it was enough to give us hope that things were going to start getting better.

Or at least that (together) we would be able to handle whatever obstacles we would have to climb.

Stroke of Genius

"We write to taste life twice; Once in the moment and in retrospection."

~Anais Nin

It is according to Ben's request, questions from new friends and visitors, (and the fact that it's mentioned in the blog profile) that I write about Ben's stroke. I've been wanting to do this for a while (and even started working on it back in July). However, for some reason it has been much harder for me to blog about the stroke than my tumor and brain surgery. This has been weighing heavily on my mind.

"Why am I stumped? Why isn't it coming naturally? Why do I seem to have to force my writing on this subject?"

I couldn't figure it out until it hit me this morning, when I realized that the stroke has had a MUCH more lasting (ongoing) effect on our lives. My tumor was found, fixed with surgery, and is followed-up on regularly. I have to keep an eye on it, but for the most part I am able to move on without any lasting effect on my life or my marriage besides just some occasional issues and anxieties once in a while. I can look at pictures and say, "Wow...that was weird. I hope it leaves me alone now and never comes back again."

But it's a different story with the stroke. The stroke changed the course of our lives forever. The stroke is something we still deal with on a daily basis. It's a part of our conversations and regular thoughts. How can I blog SO many experiences, lessons, and explainations without writing an entire book about it?

And that's when I realized that I can't.

The best I can do is to "take little bites and chew well." Only then can I really express it in the way it should be expressed and with the effect I want it to have. I don't want to give the "Cliff Notes" version; I want you to understand it and experience it, and I want to record it so that WE won't forget the details either.

It would be disappointing if I did this any other way.

Which is why blogging about "Ben's Stroke" is going to be an on-going project. I'm going to write about particular events and experiences as they come to me. Some will be funny, some will be serious, and most will be out of sequence, but I hope that it will be interesting to read for everyone.

Who knows, by the time all is said and done, I just MIGHT have the equivalent of a book on my hands!

*For a quick reference, all "Stroke Posts" will be under the label "Ben's Stroke" (found to the right of this page).*

"Big Wheels Keep On Turning..."

www.jupiterimages.com

I remember the first time Rollerblades ran an ad on TV.

I tried to find it on the internet, but it does not exist (as far as I can see), so I'll explain it to you and maybe you'll remember.

It started with an Amish family in a one horse buggy, quietly driving down a rolling (paved) country road. Cutting back and forth between the family and a lonely rollerblader soaring down the same road. They pass each other in different directions. From here, my memory is fuzzy: I think the rollerblader looks back and a little Amish girl waves to him from the back of the buggy.

Cute commercial.

There's a paved road that runs next to our house. It's a luxury to have a paved road (that is NOT the main highway) in a farming town! I've started rollerblading down this street in the mornings, since I'm SO burned out with everything else.

Seriously.

I've always been really into health and fitness, so I thought my New Year's Resolution to get back into shape would be a snap....just like it usually is. NOT SO, this time. I'm sick of doing anything that gets my heart working, and all I want to do is bake Chocolate Chip Cookies. I'm not really sure how to handle this....any ideas?

So anyway, this first morning I walked out to the end of the driveway and bent over to lace my blades. Hardly anyone uses this route, at least not very often, so I sat out in the middle of the road since that would be easier than trying to balance on one foot in the gravel.

I looked up and noticed a huge red semi-truck turing onto the road in the distance. Eventhough he was still a ways away, there's just something creepy about sitting in the middle of a road, in a spot that you know is about to be driven over by a semi (who you're not exactly sure can see you). Letting out a little "Uh-Oh," I jumped up and hobbled over to the side.

I was on the road for at least 30 minutes. During that time NOBODY else came by, so I spent the entire time blading down the middle of the road. I did, however, come face to face with the red semi again just before I got back to the driveway. This time, with a full load, we passed each other and waved.

Plus the gust of wind he created, although it almost knocked me off the road, DID give me quite the extra resistance workout for just a few seconds.

"The Taming Of The.....Pig?"

We were beginning to believe that Javelina were just a myth; an Urban Legend if you will.

After living in Arizona for 5 years (and almost a year on the farm), we came to the conclusion that we had a better chance of seeing a Jack-a-lope, a Snipe, or the Toothfairy.

We've been told stories about them, and seen their scary sculls in museums. We've even heard about farmers driving through packs of Javelina with semi-trucks (but not on purpose...funny story, though).

It has been Ben's heart's desire to see a Javelina, and it has turned into a down-right QUEST for others to help him realize that dream.

"You STILL haven't seen a Javelina? Are you kidding? Well, you've got to see one....I just can't believe it. You HAVE to see one."

Yesterday, the rumors were put to rest and now everyone in town can sleep in peace, knowing that Ben has finally seen a Javelina.

Ben came running into the house breathless, "C'mon, we have to go NOW!"

Thinking there was some kind of emergency, I ended a very important phone call with my friend, Ashley, and ran out the door with Hayden still in his house slippers.

In the car, while racing down the highway, Ben explained what was up:

Ben: Shanda is sitting on a box (in their backyard) with an angry Javelina inside.
Me: What?!
Ben: Shanda caught a Javelina in their backyard with a box.

Shanda just became our new hero.

Javelina are MEAN.
(That's all you need to know.)

Just think of the meanest animal with huge pointy teeth, a huge chip on their shoulder, and bad eye sight. They will attack anything (eventhough they can't see what it is) and won't stop.

They like to stay in packs.

They can get pretty big, too (around the size of a medium dog).

A lot of people like to hunt them here, and some will eat them. I still have mixed feelings about actually eating them since some say they are a wild pig, while others believe they are more a rodent. Maybe this is where they got the idea of the "Rodent's Of Unusual Size" (R.O.U.S.'s) for the movie, "The Princess Bride." All I know is that I am not interested in trying to eat something that might just be a huge rat.

So, "The Angry Javelina" (who ended up being a baby) was infact very upset at first. He hissed, screamed, jumped around the dog kennel (they eventually put him in), and kept slamming into the gate with his head. Squishing his nose through the openings, he broke a tooth off trying to bite through the metal.

However, after getting some water and then munching on a hot dog and some cucumbers, he became more calm. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe he figured out we weren't going to hurt him. Could we have actually made friends with a dreaded Javelina?

Loading the dog kennel into the back of the farm truck, the boys decided to let him go behind the hay barns (on the other side of their farm). Expecting the Javelina to come tearing out of the kennel like a Tazmanian Devil, they opened the gate and braced themselves.

The "monster" slowly tip-toed out of the box and looked around. He walked around to everyone and sniffed their boots. It seemed as though they could reach down and pet the treacherous beast (but nobody did). After a few minutes, the Javelina trotted over to a pile of harvested corn and started to snack again.

Could it be that the Javelina just has a bad reputation? Could he be nothing more than a misunderstood creature who's just really hungry all the time and NOT the terrible beast everyone talks about?

I doubt it.

Good-bye, baby Javelina...Fare thee well!
(Look at his pointy little toes!)

Why Me?

"Sometimes, it's good just to ponder the mysteries of life quietly,"

I said to Hayden (while we were riding in the car), thinking that the 4-year old had no idea what that meant.

Miraculously, though, he did.

And he was quiet for a few seconds.

Hayden has begun the "WHY" phase. I always looked forward to that when I observed it with other people's kids.

I thought it was cute.

It was cute until my own little peach blossom began...with avengence...leaving me with an extreme desire to pull my hair out multiple times throughout the day.

"Mommy, I'm hungry. Can I have noodles?"
"What's a noodle?"
"Why is it good?"
"Does Santa like noodles?"
"When will it be done?"
"Why do you cook it?"
"What's a stove?"
"Why is it a stove?"
"Why do you cook noodles in water?"
"What's a pot?"

"Can I have a sandwich..."

Before I can answer one, he's waiting with the next.

While driving back from the grocery store today, I heard a voice coming from the back seat. I had been hearing it asking questions ALL DAY, but after a brief moment of silence I heard it again,

"Mommy? I ask a LOT of questions."

"Yes, you do...but it's okay. That's how you learn."

(At least, that's what I keep telling myself!)

6 Years of Sunshine!

Where were you on Groundhog's Day (February) 2001?

I was at the ice rink (of course). It was just another Friday morning coaching at the rink, except (little did I know) that I was about to meet my sweetheart.

I saw his sillouette standing by the "Skate Rental" watching me warm-up alone on the foggy sheet of ice. We were the only ones there at the time. Eventhough all I could see (at first) was an unfamiliar shadow, I had a strong feeling that he was going to be someone special in my life.

We were married a year later in January 2002.

Yesterday was our 6th wedding anniversary, but since we were in the middle of a long voyage back home after our Christmas break, yelling "Happy Anniversary" to each other while running to the boarding gate at the airport was just about the extent of our celebration.

Wait, I take that back.....
Thanks be to David for secretly telling the servers at "The Rainforest Cafe" in Seattle about our Anniversary so that they could suprise us with a bowl of whipped cream and two candles sticking out of the top.

I still think we deserved the big chocolate volcano dessert they give to "the birthday customers." Jipped!

However, listening to the Safari Servers sing and clap for us while everyone at the table snapped cell phone pictures by candlelight (under the hanging vines and swinging monkeys) was...well...Romantic? No. But definately a sweet memory.

Well, anyway....

Ben,
I love you.
Thanks for being my best friend.
Happy Anniversary.

"Don't Eat Yellow Snow!"

~Photos by Nancy

I've been told that snowboarding was invented on Mt. Baker in Washington State.

I'm not sure if this is true or not yet, but I LOVE snowboarding, so I had to see the place.

Unfortunately, I did not bring the board on this trip to Washington. Instead, the whole family enjoyed a day in the snow TOGETHER in "The Bowl" on Mt. Baker.

Of course, a day with the Brannon and Crogan Clans proved (once again) to be full of hillarious moments and treasured memories: I seemed to borrow the bulkiest snow suit in history which made me feel like the Michelin Man, but Haley ("the two-year-old nudest") stripped off all her clothes...again. Mom swore loud enough for the Russians to hear (our neighbor-sledders), while Dylan (who couldn't hold it anymore) peed on a tire, as we held up plastic disk sleds for a make-shift toilet stall.

"Instant Flush!"

Good Times, Good Times!

As I sat in the front seat of the van and stirred a dozen cups of hot cocoa and stale mini marshmallows with a fork, I looked around at the chaos and laughed...

This is what memories are made of!

Hayden wore his first pair of Carharts.

(*This is one of my new favorite pictures of H-Bomb.*)

"The cousins" with Auntie Sarah.

"The Nudest" had to watch from the van.