What NOT to Do if You Work For a Funeral Home.

I'm interrupting 'The Aftermath' Series to inject a little humor.  Remember the 'strange stranger' I mentioned in Part 1 of The Aftermath Series? Where should I start? Okay, I'll say it like this. If you ever work at a funeral home, here are some suggestions of what NOT to do or say to a grieving family member of the person you are being paid to care for and for whom you handle the sensitive arrangements of their loved one. Since the moment these things occurred I have laughed at their absurdity more than once...

Number One.

Do NOT under any circumstances send a friend request on Facebook to the deceased person's loved one, spouse, relative, etc. It's weird, in bad taste, strange and just plain wrong. I'm sorry, but WHY would I want to be Facebook friends with the representative of the Funeral Home that is taking care of the arrangements of my deceased husband's body? It's creepy as all get out. Just don't do it. Please.

Number Two.

Do NOT share how the dialyzing fluid in the peritoneal cavity splashed unexpectedly everywhere when you were preparing a deceased person's body upon hearing their loved one say they had been receiving dialysis treatments at home. I really didn't need that visual image expressed through your   inappropriate words in the middle of my stress when I was trying to pare down the services that I would prefer and just couldn't afford. I still have to tell myself to close my mouth when I think about it because it's usually left hanging open at the thought that conversation actually happened.

Number Three.

Do NOT say inappropriate things in front of someone's young children that could haunt their memory of the last time they see their father. Please. Don't walk up to me moments before we spend our last hour with my deceased husband when I'm nervous as all get out, trying to hold it together and keep my composure while being strong for my children and tell me you had trouble with my husband's body. Don't explain how you had to arrange for his arms to stay up on the table, we'll be able to see that for ourselves. Don't demonstrate with your own arms how his arms were flailing and flopping all about without the braces you rigged to hold them in place and then covered them with a pillowcase so we wouldn't see the metal. Don't say these things to anyone who is grieving about their loved one, let alone in front of their young and impressionable children. Really? Just, REALLY??? I mean, REALLY? SMH.

Number Four. 

Do NOT come inside the family viewing room ten minutes into the only hour they have left with their loved one and approach the spouse of the deceased person with a post it note when she is holding a child and talking to a family member in the little amount of time she has left with her husband. Do not give her this post it note and explain that the top figure is the full balance minus the amount received shown equaling the remaining balance due for the funeral home's services when you should know it's not the right time for that. So inappropriate. 

And Lastly, Number Five.

Do NOT run out behind the spouse's car from inside the funeral home with a mad urgency when she is about to leave to go to the Memorial service of her loved one at the church when you've already creeped her out multiple times. It's alarming. Especially when you come right up to her window out of nowhere and knock after she purposely closed the door in an effort to stop communication  and in attempt to gear up for her loved one's service. Do not ask her if she  wants you to run back inside and take the jewelry her husband was wearing off and bring it to her, when she already told you she would come later or another day to pick it up. Do you really think she wants to think about you running inside to rip the wedding ring and watch off of her husband's body and run back out to her with it at that very moment? Honestly?


TRUE. STORY. I kid you not. I have witnesses.

Monday's Blog: The Aftermath, Part 3: My Grieving Children - A closer look at how my kids processed their grief in the months following the loss of their Daddy.

So What Happened?

**Please know that this particular blog entry includes a lot of detail on Donnie's health history and details of the night he passed away. It was difficult to write and for those that know and loved Donnie, I expect it will be difficult to read. So please, if you feel that this will disturb you, feel free to not read this blog entry. It won't offend me in the least. I just felt I needed to write it out and so many people have had questions that this may finally answer, as well as to quell any rumors or misleading assumptions about his death. Thanks.**

It's been nearly 10 months now since I lost my husband. I've debated over writing about Donnie's death and initially I had planned to do so fairly soon afterwards but when I tried at the time, I found I just couldn't. It's been a long road for me to get to where I could sit down and write it out, moment by moment and it's still difficult, but I'm thankful that at least in this moment, I think I can.

So many people wanted to know what happened that night. What was his cause of death? How did it happen? Some shared their opinions of why he passed and some assumed it was one health problem over another. I received a lot of private messages, texts and phone calls asking for details that I just wasn't quite ready to give. 

Honestly, I don't have the medical facts to back up my opinion, but as I was his help mate and companion and even eventually his caretaker, I have settled on what I believe to have happened and the reason that I believe caused his death. I know I've written a lot here, but I feel that I need to maybe not for you, but for me. It's cathartic to put it into words. And this way I can just refer someone to my blog if I'm not up to discussing it at some point, because the questions do keep coming. So here is my story and my opinion.

Donnie had a lot of medical issues that came up over the years. He was diagnosed with diabetes in late 2000, but lived well and learned to control it through a combination of diet, exercise and medication. In 2004, as the Doctors then put it, he 'spontaneously contracted' Necrotizing Fasciitis or NF (the flesh eating disease) in his left leg. You can read about that story by clicking here. 

Long story short, he survived NF but came close to death and the trauma/devastation of that disease left residual nerve damage in his leg as well as other complications that arose more prominently over time, including foot drop which led to his L big toe amputation in 2006, overcompensation for the L leg nerve damage which led to his R big toe amputation in 2007, restless leg syndrome, painful neuropathy in his L leg, susceptibility to any common bug/virus because of his low immune system after being on such strong antibiotics so often, hypothyroidism, high blood pressure, a severe candida infection/stomach issue that came back any time he was placed on antibiotics and eventually the last 3 years of his life he had to be placed on an antibiotic 'forever' for the candida. Without this antibiotic he would become so ill that he would vomit non-stop. Literally, non-stop, every 3-5 minutes or less. He also dealt with chronic sinus infections, headaches, nausea, IBS and more. This all became the norm for us, the things he dealt with every day.

Between the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays of 2010, Donnie became very sick, beyond his normal day to day issues. Over those weeks we were in and out of the Dr's office and the ER at least 1 or more times per week. He had an infection that was being treated by his PCP, ER Doctors (who didn't want to admit him) and antibiotics, but he continued to grow more and more ill. On Christmas day we went to the ER once again and this is when we received the report of his kidneys beginning to fail and along with that he also lost a great deal of his vision almost overnight. You can read more about this by clicking here.

By March of 2011, Donnie started dialysis treatments and gained some stability. We settled into a routine for dialysis and dealt with its occasional obstacles and his continual health problems relating to the kidney failure or his pre-existing health issues as well as some new issues that developed from kidney failure. One of the interesting perks of dialysis for Donnie is that it really stabilized his diabetes. The dialysis caused his sugars to nearly always be normal or sometimes a little low from shortly after he started dialyzing in early 2011 until the time of his death. So his diabetes was largely under control for the last 2 years of his life.

During the summer of 2012, the nurses at the dialysis clinic approached Donnie about starting perinatal dialysis which is a dialysis treatment that could be done from home and potentially give us more flexibility schedule-wise instead of losing 3 days a week to treating at the clinic. They felt he was a good, strong candidate and would do well dialyzing from home. Donnie and I talked about it and he felt he wanted to make this transition. I was more hesitant about it, because it would put more responsibility on me and I would become even more of a nurse. But I wanted him to be happy and I supported his decision and we moved forward by planning the surgery to set up the ability to dialyze this way and his training for the home dialysis. 

The surgery was scary. They had trouble afterwards with his blood pressure and when he woke he was still intubated and they kept him overnight to make sure he was okay when it should have just been an outpatient procedure. From that time forward, I found that he did not have as much strength, stamina or stability even in his daily tasks of living. He seemed weaker and activity wore him out even quicker than before. He walked a little less stable and had to have help even more often at home and at church getting around. He wasn't able to cook as often. I mention this, because he LOVED cooking. It was something he enjoyed doing and made him feel normal, independent, in control and helped take his mind off of his discomforts. Before kidney failure he enjoyed cooking nearly daily, after dialysis started in 2011, he cooked a few times a week if he felt well and after the surgery to put the port in for the home dialysis, he rarely cooked. 

We finally started the home dialysis in October. Everything was manual, meaning we (I) had to dialyze him every 4-6 hours. It was a lot of work, but we were promised that by the beginning of the year, we could do it by a machine and everything would be so much easier and better. I logged everything, I mean EVERYTHING in a book that the nurses would check every couple weeks. Every time he dialyzed, which was about 4-6 times a day, I would check his blood pressure, his temperature, his pulse rate, and I would log his intake of dialyzing fluids as well as the outtake, so I knew how much he weighed, what was normal, if he was dialyzing enough, and so on. I was on top of every aspect of his treatment at home. We wore gloves and masks and were very sterile in our environment each time he treated. Things seemed to be going well, the numbers in the book were right. His home dialysis was working.

But he just wasn't quite his normal self. His strength waned even more and his balance became even worse. We were about 3 weeks in to the dialyzing at home and I was walking with him everywhere he would go in the house either supporting him or helping him up from the bed or even just following him closely with my arms out in case he needed help. One Sunday after church, he fell in the bathroom. He'd forgotten he had taken off his shoes and couldn't see them on the floor and tripped over them. He fell into the washing machine and bruised up his arm and shoulder but he was okay, just frustrated and sore. A few days later, he fell in the living room and broke a table leg, scratching up his arm a little, but he was okay, again just frustrated and sore. 

A couple days after that, it was Sunday early morning and we were getting ready for church. He had a very difficult time getting out of bed and he just had no strength. I asked him did he need help and he said 'No, I've got it'. As I stood there watching him struggle to gain his balance and stand on his feet, I asked him if he was sure he didn't want my help and he said no, again. As he started moving to the hall doorway I watched him and was cringing inside because he was obviously having great difficulty walking. I asked him one more time if I could please help him and he said "NO." I told myself to let him be, let him have his dignity, leave him alone and I turned my back to walk away and get his clothes ready. The next thing I heard was a heavy thud and his cry. He had fallen in the doorway of the bathroom. His L foot (the leg with nerve damage and the foot with drop foot from the NF in 2004) had caught and caused him to fall into a split, HARD on his already damaged L leg. 

He couldn't get up on his own. He didn't know if it was broken. He was in a great deal of pain. But he STILL wanted to go to church. (I'm laughing right now because he was so, so stubborn. He lived to worship and hated when something happened to keep him from leading worship at church.) So I got the rolling office chair and brought it to him and helped him up off the floor and rolled him to the bed to rest for a few minutes before he finished getting ready. After that he could not get up again, even with my help. We decided to call an ambulance and we went to the hospital instead of church. 

At the hospital, they said it was 'just a bad contusion'. They did an xray, an MRI and consulted with another Doctor to rule out compartment syndrome and then when they found out he was a perinatal dialysis patient, they rushed us out the door telling us to follow up with our PCP in the next few days. I had to call our Pastor to meet us at home and with his support on Donnie's right and my support on Donnie's left it was the only way we were able to get him up our front steps and into the house onto the bed. I called his PCP the next day and they scheduled us for a week and a half later. His leg was swollen and bruised badly. It was as if the bruise was bleeding inside his leg and over the next few days, it spread over almost his entire leg, from his bottom to his mid/lower calf and then it spread almost all the way around the sides and top of his leg, leaving only a thin strip unbruised about an inch wide and 7-8 inches long where his skin graft was. So nearly his entire leg was covered in this horrible deep purple/black bruising.

I continued dialyzing him every day and calling the Dr's office every 2-3 days trying to get them to send someone to our home because he couldn't walk.... BECAUSE HE COULDN'T WALK. I literally had to lift him on and off the bed and place him in our office chair and roll him to the rest room and back to bed. He was too weak to do anything, I even had to help him take sponge baths because he didn't have the strength to lift his arms. The pain in his leg was excruciating for him, he could not bear weight on it at all. I didn't think I needed to take him back to the ER because they seemed so nonchalant about his injury and that he just needed some rest and to follow up with his PCP.

On the day of his appointment with his PCP, it was also the day before Thanksgiving and it had been a week and a half after his fall. I called his PCP once again (this was the 4th or 5th time) and told them there was NO WAY I could get him to their office, I stressed once again that he could NOT walk and I desperately needed someone to come to my house as soon as possible. Within an hour and a half they sent a home health nurse to our door. She came in and asked a lot of questions for about an hour. She checked his pulse, she took his blood pressure, she checked his temperature and she remarked at how great his levels were. She said since it's a holiday weekend Thanksgiving being the next day, we shouldn't expect to see anyone until Monday or after and then she left. This was about 2:30, 3:00 in the afternoon. 

I fixed the kids and Donnie a meal and then about 4:30, 5:00 I went to the store to pick up a few things for our Thanksgiving meal for the next day. I returned home, did another dialysis exchange for Donnie, made dinner, we ate, we watched some TV and then it was about 10:30. I called the kids into the bedroom and told them to hang out with us for a while. Kellan cuddled with Donnie for about 20 minutes while Donnie was sitting up in the bed and Emmi cuddled with me. Then we switched and Emmi cuddled with Donnie while Kellan cuddled with me for another 15-20 minutes. We shared a lot of sweet kisses and hugs and I love you's with the kids. Then I sent the kids to watch TV in the living room because I had a horrible headache all day and wanted to rest my head for a few minutes before taking Donnie to the restroom to wash up before bed, change the sheets, do his next dialysis treatment, prep the food for Thanksgiving and go to bed myself. 

A little while after the kids left the room, Donnie was still sitting up in the bed and after a couple minutes he half turned his head toward me and said very calmly and kind of thoughtfully, "I feel funny". I asked him what was wrong and he said he didn't know. I asked him if he was hungry, if he was thirsty, if he needed some medicine, if he wanted some ice, if he needed me to do anything, and each time he answered "No". I asked him if he was okay, if he was sure there wasn't anything I could do for him and he said "No, I'll be alright. No, I'm fine". I asked him if it was okay if I closed my eyes for a few minutes to try to get rid of my headache and he said sure, so I did. 

A couple of minutes later, he layed down beside me from his sitting position, facing me. I had my head buried under my pillow and was pressing my temples and my eyes, trying to get rid of my headache. When he layed down, I peeked from under the pillow and through my fingers at him to make sure he was okay. He looked relaxed. Then I ducked back under the pillow and continued to press my pressure points. 

Within the next minute or so, he was snoring. And I breathed a sigh of relief. Because if he was awake, I was always on alert. I knew at any moment I may have to jump up and get him something, or help him to the bathroom, or grab a vomit bucket or do whatever it was he needed. But when he slept, that was the only time I could truly relax. So I remember very vividly, sighing aloud and thinking to myself 'Oh thank you God, he's sleeping. Now I can relax a few minutes and maybe get rid of this headache before I have to get up and do our bedtime routine'. So I relaxed. I chilled. I pressed my pressure points. And I breathed another sigh of relief.

It was probably within about 10 or 15 minutes, when Donnie exhaled in a very long, low and deep way. I chuckled, because over the last couple of weeks he had been doing some really hilarious stuff in his sleep. He would have these very vivid dreams and he would talk, he would sing, he would hum, he would giggle... it was just so funny. I would often capture it on video, show it to him later when he woke up and we would have a good laugh. Then he exhaled again, the same way. I peeked at him through my fingers from under my pillow again and said, Donnie? He did it again and I thought, 'This is weird', put my hand out and rubbed his arm and said 'Donnie? Honey, wake up'. 

And that's about the time I realized something might be wrong. That's as far as I'll go in detail here. But basically, after another moment of trying to wake him and checking his pulse on his BP cuff, I realized he had stopped breathing. And a few hours later is when I knew he was really gone.

So that's it. It happened so fast. Yes, he had so many health issues. Yes, he had diabetes. Yes, he was in renal failure and on dialysis. But his diabetes was largely under control. His dialysis was going well. His blood pressure, pulse, temperature and fluids I monitored multiple times daily and none of it was out of wack. The home health nurse had been there not even 10 hours before and all his levels were great. 

His death certificate reads 'cardiac arrest' as the cause of death. His heart was checked with EKG's regularly (about 2-3x a year) by the clinic, just 2 months before when he had the surgery that enabled him to do the home dialysis, and the Sunday prior when we went to the ER after his fall they checked it there as well and every time he had it checked, they all said "Your heart is great!" which was always a reassurance to us because it was one of the few areas nothing was wrong.

No autopsy was done due to Donnie's extensive health history. So we don't 'actually' know what took place. It could hypothetically be attributed to anything. Any one of his more serious health problems you could probably make a case out of and go with that, or say it was a combo of all of the above. But in my opinion, this is what I think happened. I think that Donnie had a blood clot travel from his severely bruised and blood filled injured leg to his heart in that small space of time after the kids left the room from our cuddling session. I believe that's why he "felt funny" and couldn't describe the problem to me. I know I'm not a doctor and I have nothing to prove that, but it's what I believe because all his stats were consistently good to great throughout the dialysis log I kept and confirmed by the home health nurse that very afternoon. It happened so quickly, in a matter of minutes and I honestly can think of nothing else that would suddenly cause his death even in the midst of all his other health issues. Nothing else makes sense to me. So that's what I believe; it was a blood clot.

For the longest time, all I could remember was the moment of his death, his last breaths that I didn't know were his last breaths. It haunted me. Oh how it haunted me. But now that I'm mostly past that, what I remember most is his face. His sweet peaceful face. There was no pain on his face. No anxiety or distress. No discomfort or displeasure. His expression when I looked at him was one of sweet sleep and peacefulness. He looked as if he layed down to take a nap and fell asleep, which is exactly what he did. And that is the moment that I choose to keep with me, to carry with me. I believe he didn't suffer pain when he passed, because if he had, he would have told me in those moments I was questioning him. I believe that although it may have been distressing for me to lose him, for him it was peaceful in those moments, and for that I am so very, very thankful. 

Tomorrow's Blog: The Aftermath, Part 1: The Surreal Whirlwind - An inside glimpse into our journey of the days following Donnie's death.

Ages

Ages have passed since my last words here. 

Milestones? 

There are a few.  It's been one year since Donnie started dialysis and in some ways he's better, and in others, he's just not. Kellan has started taking meds for ADD. Emmi is outgrowing her clothes almost as quickly as I buy them. And I cannot find a job to fit around my varying schedules of the kids' school hours, Donnie's dialysis hours and our church hours. It seems my inflexibility is quite understandably not very attractive to any potential employer in this region.

Plans? 

I'm thinking of going back to school and finishing out my degree. I'd probably have to go online to work around our schedule and obligations and I'm not quite sure what I would major in... maybe journalism? I'm also toying with the idea of seriously blogging to the point that perhaps it could generate an income, or attempting to freelance write, but so far I've felt a little too inferior and unknowledgeable to take any of these ideas on. But it's time to stomp out fear and move forward, somehow, some way.

Issues? 

Still dealing with Emmi's eczema and although we've found some things that really work well for her, the last few months I've been trying to step back and give her a little more responsibility in learning how to take care of herself since she will likely have to deal with this for possibly her lifetime. The result has not been so great, her skin is bordering out of control and my attempts to reassert taking care of her body in the proper way have been quite laughable. Just picture me pinning her down to put meds and lotions on her or me chasing her down the hall with vaseline all over my hands instead of on her dry, ashy, patchy, inflamed skin. Sigh... We saw her doctor this week and they added another 3 medications to the 3 she's already taking (not including her lotions) and I just don't know how I feel about that. I detest loading my child on meds that she may not really need when there is something natural that can work for her. But when her skin becomes this bad, I feel desperate enough to give in to meds for a temporary fix. Even though it is only temporary.

Kellan has been doing great on his ADD meds as far as school goes but it puts him in an ill temper (ai yai yai!) and he doesn't eat enough and sometimes has problems falling asleep. Which of course they want to give him a med to make him eat more and a med to help him fall asleep.  I don't know if I will use them though. I'm one who doesn't really believe in using meds unless they're absolutely necessary.

Don't get me wrong, I am not against modern medicine. But have you ever listened to those drug commercials on TV? They make a solution to-whatever-your-ailment-is sound so amazingly wonderful and then list all the side effects in a rushed/hushed voice. Side effects scare me, my friends. I believe my poor sweet mommy was a victim of said side effects. One medicine caused cholesterol build up. Cholesterol build up caused heart attacks. Meds for heart issues caused diabetes. More meds caused pulmonary fibrosis. Pulmonary fibrosis caused death. So me no likey meds if there is another healthier alternative available.

And my poor sweet hubby. I can't even tell you how many meds he's on these days. So many, for so, so many reasons... it's not just the kidney failure he deals with or the diabetes, or the hypothyroidism. There's restless legs and high blood pressure and sinus and tummy and-and-and-and-and... should I keep going? Let's leave a little mystery, shall we?

So there we are and here I go. Time to wake up my sleeping husband so I can put him to bed. :/  Goodnight my non-readers, figments of my imagination! Tomorrow another dialysis day awaits and my mind is already gearing up for it: What shall I read tomorrow? What deals will Kroger have on their meat? Will Walgreens have the kids meds ready? Will Donnie's clinic ever call in his thyroid medicine refill? Can I pass the kitchen table without staring at the Easter candy? Stay tuned for the intriguing answers!

Life As We Know It

Just before Thanksgiving last year, my family of 4 was out celebrating my daughter's 6th birthday with dinner, bowling and cupcakes at a local bakery. My husband commented to me several times that evening that he wasn't feeling good. We didn't realize at the time, but he was beginning to have symptoms that were leading him into septic shock from an infection we had no idea was anything serious until it was too late.

A little over a week later he was in the hospital facing kidney failure. It just seemed to come out of nowhere, because his regular bloodwork with his PCP showed no signs of kidney issues whatsoever. Over the next several months we made many trips to varying doctors, weekly ER visits which turned into hospital stays, and then follow ups with specialists all of which included a lot of life-changing, sobering news.

Kidney failure. You don't know how devastating those words were to me. You see, Polycystic Kidney Disease is a prevalent destroyer of my family's kidneys. My mom, my aunt and my oldest brother have had kidney transplants due to PKD. My uncle, my younger brother and 2 of my cousins have passed away from the disease and its complications. So to find out that my husband was in renal failure when he has never had kidney problems before completely rocked my world.

Along with the kidney failure, the sepsis also caused his vision to basically be permanently damaged with virtually no hope of correction by glasses or other methods. The doctor actually told him he could use binoculars to help with watching TV, but then if he does that too much he would damage his peripheral vision which he still has. He has to magnify most everything to be able to read and he has to sit right in front of the TV to see, which is where we tell our kids NOT to sit or they'll go blind. What an ironic turnabout!

In some ways the vision loss has been just as devastating to him as the kidney failure. Without his normal vision, he can't see well enough to read music charts to learn or teach new music to our Praise Team. I have to help read menus to him when we go out to eat. I have to read and respond to his text messages for him, fix his insulin and other medications, etc. The kids or I sometimes have to guide him when we're walking outside because he can't see what is in his path. It has been a major blow to his ego & pride to become somewhat helpless in these areas and especially frustrating that he can't improve his vision quality.

So life as we know it has definitely changed. It has been a roller coaster of emotions with some ups and a lot of downs. After about a month of receiving dialysis which began mid-March, we finally started falling into a routine. We have the system down now. I keep a 'dialysis bag' on standby and just update it's contents the night before treatment according to the next day's plan.

The 'dialysis bag' is a beach bag I use to hold a myriad of comfort items, some for him, some for me and some for the kiddos. The staples are these: a blanket for him because it gets chilly while he dialyzes, ear-buds for his personal TV, meds for his snack, a hoodie for me to cuddle under while I sit in the waiting room, my kindle (thanks for hooking a girl up Marky Mark!), a magazine I keep meaning to read but can't tear myself away from my kindle long enough to read it, the family calendar, a notebook, water/juice boxes/snacks, the kids DSi's and so on.

Sitting and waiting during his treatments has been surprisingly enjoyable. It pauses the constant motion in my week for 4 hours. It allows me to escape in a book or a game, organize my to do list, take cat naps and the most fun and unexpected treat is getting familiar with the variety of interesting people that come and go from their treatments. From the names (Zeke, Ezra, Solomon) to the personalities that you would think would come straight out of one of Tyler Perry's sitcoms or movies, there has been no shortage of entertainment. The kids and I also will sometimes run errands, go to the bookstore, see a movie, or play at Chick-Fil-A's indoor playground during his treatments to give them a bit of a break because of course they get a little more stir crazy than I do, although I have been known to be a little crazy myself.

The kids have handled this amazingly well. It makes me sad sometimes when I think of how much time they have had to wait in Doctor offices. It's not fair that its normal for them to play their DSi's in their pajamas sitting on the floor in the ER room at 3:00 in the morning while their daddy evacuates the contents of his stomach through his mouth for the 2,429th time. (Sorry if you're squeamish, I tried to say it in a nice way!) And I always have to take a moment to swallow back my emotions before answering their gut-wrenching questions like Emmi's "Will my husband get sick like daddy?" or Kellan's "Is daddy going to die?".

I realize some of this sounds so dismal and depressing and honestly at times, it has been. But although in moments we have been discouraged or even distraught, we have continued to encourage one another because we believe we serve a Savior who heals and restores. Whether that will be through Doctors' hands and a kidney transplant or a miraculous turnaround doesn't matter.

We believe all we have been through from the Necrotizing Fasciitis in 2004 to the current kidney failure and other complications has been allowed for a divine purpose. Whether its to reach someone through this blog, through relationships we have established with people at the dialysis center, or for reasons yet unknown, we are thankful that God has chosen us because it means He trusts us. As fallible and human as we are, we are careful to be thankful. God has promised us so much in this life and we know we have only begun and that our latter WILL be greater!

Okay the preacher is stepping down because it's time to go fix dinner. Okay, it's really past time, but I can't help myself when I start writing; it just overtakes me! I just know how overwhelmed I was when we first started going through this process of dealing with dialysis and facing limitations. I did everything I could to scrounge up as much information possible to help my family, to adjust to my role as a caretaker and so on and maybe, just maybe this will help someone a wee little bit in some tiny small way, as well as update those we do know on how things have developed in our small world.

And as a disclaimer of sorts to anyone who may know us, I don't mean to say that my husband is now helpless. He is still as strong willed and independent as ever in many ways, however physically life has changed and it is what it is and I am just being honest about that. Voila. He has some really good days and sometimes he has some really bad days and we are living life to its fullest for whatever each day holds!