roller coaster ride

Nov 2

Here I go breaking my original blogging rule and getting all personal again.

Just stop at the fab daily inspirational above if you'd rather escape from your own drama and read about ghost chairs and fashionable fabrics.

No hard feelings.

But based on comments and emails I know some of you do care about more than my latest design crush so I figured these posts are therapeutic for more than just me.

Plus as lame as it sounds, sometimes it's nice to know that behind even the most well selected and tailored curtains lies a real person with a real life.

It's so easy to get swept away by facebook status updates from the tropics and blog posts about another fabulous trash to treasure found at Goodwill in between latte's and Pilates.

We start to think our own lives are dull and boring and we don't have as much money, or as prestigious a job, or as many new outfits for our children or selves, or Travel & Leisure worthy vacations as people we read about.

And it's constant.

On the flip side, I'm not into reading about all your dirty laundry every minute because I have a pile of my own hidden (thankfully) behind a closed laundry room door.

So I guess all I'm trying to say is, we all have unglamorous or hurtful moments and I think it's important to accept those as well. In fact, right now I'm sitting in my den with dirty hair eating pasta straight out of the food processor because that's where the sauce was and I didn't feel like dirtying up another dish.

Yep, that's right.

How's that for sharing?

Anyway, there was a little more to our hospital stay back in September than I led you to believe.

Mostly because I felt our share of prayers for that days was best left directed at BabyGirl.

You see, Wells wasn't the only patient in our little family that day.

Matthew and I were led to recovery to hold our sweet girl as she was coming in and out of consciousness from her anesthesia and were able to hold her tiny hands as she was wheeled to her room on the pediatric surgical unit. It was so important that we witnessed this moment together.

But by this time, Matthew had to rush through the interior maze that makes up MUSC to arrive at his own pressing doctors appointment at the Storm Eye Institute. He'd been battling some sort of corneal eye-infection for several weeks and was admitted as an emergency patient. It was really just shear luck that we were already scheduled to be at MUSC. Not only was his eye red and irritated but his vision was being compromised. They gave him a blanket diagnosis of Uveitis with a strong possibility that it was caused by the herpes virus. Like the cold sore folks, not the STD. He was placed on a strict dose of hourly steroid drops to his eye and an oral anti-biotic of the valtrex nature. I desperately wanted to give a FULL EXPLANATION to our pharmacist seeing as we live in a small town. Like a really small town. I didn't want any rumors going around that my husband found himself with an STD in his eyeball. Lord knows. Anyway, the bad news is that we'd have been better off with an STD in his eye. After seeing several opthamologists, undergoing several weeks of treatment, and several trips back to Charleston we are now left with several diagnostic theories. None of which are good. Basically, Matthew's eye responded to the drugs and his symptoms subsided, but, the Uveitis was still waging a war in his cornea. What's worse, they found scar tissue from a previous battle Matthew can't even remember having. It's not like an oozing, painful red eye is something you forgot you had before.

Strange.

At this point, all fingers are pointing at an autoimmune disorder.

Luckily we've ruled out West Nile Virus and AIDS based on the fact that he's still alive. So that leaves anything from Crohn's Disease to Lupus to Lymphoma as the culprit behind his flare up.

Hmmm.

Needless to say the last two and a half weeks have been stressful as we've waited for this morning's doctor's appointment and vial of blood to be taken and analyzed.

Lord, hear our prayer.

We'd just like a diagnosis.

Nothing is wrong, false alarm would be most appreciated.

Oh yeah, and can you PLEASE make December uneventful.

No really.

We'll let you know what we find out.

I'll leave you with the lyrics to a Darryl Worley song that I play over and over and over again in my head these days.

If our life were a sit-com this would be our theme song.

Got a call last night from an old friend’s wife
Said I hate to bother you
Johnny Ray fell off the wagon*
He’s been gone all afternoon
I know my buddy so I drove to Skully’s
And found him at the bar
I say hey man, what’s going on
He said I don’t know where to start

Sarah’s old car’s about to fall apart
And the washer quit last week
We had to put momma in the nursing home
And the baby’s cutting teeth
I didn’t get much work this week
And I got bills to pay
I said I know this ain’t what you wanna hear
But it’s what I’m gonna say

(Chorus)
Sounds like life to me it ain’t no fantasy
It’s just a common case of everyday reality
Man I know it’s tough but you gotta suck it up
To hear you talk you’re caught up in some tragedy
It sounds like life to me

Well his face turned red and he shook his head
He said you don’t understand
Three kids and a wife depend on me
And I’m just one man
To top it off I just found out
That Sarah’s 2 months late**
I said hey bartender set us up a round
We need to celebrate

(Chorus)
Sounds like life to me plain old destiny
Yeah the only thing for certain is uncertainty
You gotta hold on tight just enjoy the ride
Get used to all this unpredictability
Sounds like life

Man I know its tough but you gotta suck it up
To hear you talk you’re caught up in some tragedy
Sounds like life to me
Sounds like life