September 19, 2010, my best friend of many, many years got married.  My sister and I had the honor of standing up in her wedding as bridesmaids.

It was a beautiful September day.  That morning, Leslie picked me up to head over to Kristen's parents house to have our hair done.  I texted Leslie just as she left her house and asked if she'd stop and pick me up a pop and some gum.  She said she would.

We spent the morning with Kristen and some other friends, having our hair done, snacking on fresh fruit, and making small talk. 

The ceremony was beautiful.  It was at the Henry Ford Estate in the rose garden.  Picture perfect.  After the ceremony, Leslie and I drove home to pick up our husbands, and then we headed to Old Chicago for some drinks and appetizers, just the four of us.  On our way out, we snapped a quick picture, then headed to the reception.

The reception was a lot of fun.   We had a couple of drinks and socialized.  At around 10 PM, I hitched a ride with Leslie and her husband.  He drove and I sat behind the passenger seat, taking bobby pins out of her hair.  As they dropped me off at my house, I remember yelling to her to use lots of conditioner in her hair... and I went home.

Strangely, I left my cell phone in Leslie's purse that night.  In a way, I am so thankful that I did, because it was the reason she e-mailed me the morning of September 20 to let me know she left it between her side door at her house, and to let me know she wasn't feeling too great that day. 

That day was so perfect and those memories will likely always remain fresh on my mind.  I remember when I got the news that Leslie was in critical condition, I called Kristen sobbing, and telling her how thankful I was for being in her wedding with Leslie, because we got to spend the ENTIRE day together. 

Tuesday is the day.  Do you celebrate it?  Celebrate that although something huge, life-changing and tragic happened, but she survived?  Do you mourn it?  The last few moments before we knew what was going to happen.  Do we act like it's just any other day and not make any big deal out of it?  What DO you do? 

I can say with zero doubt in my mind that that day was the worst day of my life.  Ever.  I had very low, rock bottom, depressed days for many weeks after, but the INITIAL finding out what was going on was the WORST.  There's no way I can shrug it off like any other day.

Leslie didn't mind being alone for the first part, but as the day is drawing near, she is changing her mind.  I am off that day, so I'm thinking after we take Ethan to school, we will head out to the Henry Ford Estate where the wedding we were both in the day before she collapsed was held.  We will go there, reminisce, take pictures, and just thank God for what we have.  Then we will likely do lunch somewhere downtown Dearborn.

Love you, Les!

It's my weekend to work.  Which means Saturday and Sunday, 12.5 hours each day.  It means lots of patients, call lights, doctors and families.  It means emergencies, teaching, discharging, and admissions.  It means orders, tests, IV starts, and blood sugars.  It means people who are truly there because they need health care, and it means people who are truly there to get a good buzz off the best narcotic.  But nonetheless, I love my job.

I don't ever forget WHY I do what I do, and I always, at least once, call my husband and my mom.  Just to catch up, see how their day is going.  Ask how my kids are and what they are going to do that day.  Just to try to stay in the loop while I am involved in other's "loops".

Today I made an extra call.  I called my sister.  Want to know what we talked about?  Meerkats.  And how cute and squishy their heads are.  And how they stretch real long to look all all around.  We giggled at the randomness of our conversation (that really only lasted maybe 10 minutes total), rehashed the upcoming events of this week, and then said our goodbyes.

I hung up the phone as the call lights sounded behind me, doctors shouted out "WHO IS THE NURSE FOR 603? and the phone kept ringing, likely a transporter wanting to know if 604 bed 1 was ready to go to her chest x-ray, I sat back and smiled. 

I can still talk to her.  I can still laugh with her.  I can still see, touch, and BE with her.

Love you, Les. 

I've had a nagging thought on my mind lately.  It's been discussed before, so it's not a new revelation or anything, but lately it's bothering me more than usual.

A couple months before my sister collapsed, she was complaining of sharp pains when she'd take a deep breath.  She said it was worse when she was laying down and it was painful enough that she didn't want to take deep breaths.

I encouraged her to go to the doctor, because the nurse in me was thinking it could possibly be a pulmonary embolism (clot in her lung).  Of course, how often do normally healthy 29 year olds get a PE?  Probably not often, but my motto is always better safe than sorry.  She made an appointment, and saw the physicians assistant.  After explaining her symptoms, the PA sent her for a chest x-ray.  I think she was assuming broken ribs.  When the x-ray came back normal but Leslie was still having pain, the PA told her to "take Motrin."  I remember Leslie telling me this, and I remember thinking "Huh?"  Wouldn't you want to get to the bottom of why she is having severe pain?

What if it WAS a pulmonary embolism, just sitting there waiting to make it's move.  Literally.  We will never know. 

I wish I had something profound to blog about, but I just don't right now!  My brain is pretty empty, and I am okay with that :) 

I was totally dreading Ethan starting school up again, because we had gotten on a really lazy summer schedule, but I have found just one week in to school that I love being back to our routine.  Both kids love it, in fact.  It's going really, really well, and Ethan is loving second grade.

Allison has become my shadow.  Ethan was never really shy, but Allison panics when someone she doesn't know approaches her.  Like take today, for instance.  We were waiting outside the doors Ethan comes out of after class.  There were two other ladies standing around, but apparently Allison didn't feel threatened by them.  But then!  Oh, but then!  A MAN comes!  And my sweet, quiet little angle who has one of her arms wrapped around my leg looks up at me and says, "Oh, WOOK, Mama!  A man!  Carry you, Mama, Carry you!" (Carry you is her way of actually saying carry ME)  Yes, it was loud.  And yes, the poor man probably wondered what the heck he did wrong.  But he scared her!

I taught Ethan how to play REAL hopscotch today and we had a blast.  Did you know hopscotch is a really good form of cardio?  Especially when your son makes the numbers go past 30.  I was huffing and puffing and toppling over and stubbing my toe right and left.  And I also learned how thankful I am to have two legs, because playing hopscotch today made it very clear that one leg should not have to bear the weight of the rest of me.  My knees were trembling!  We had lots of laughs, though.  Daddy even joined in!

On a more serious note, this year has been the worst, and we are nearing the one year anniversary of my sister's incident.  Since that horrible time, more bad things have happened:

• My Uncle Jim was killed in a car accident
• I was diagnosed with early congestive heart failure
• My grandma was hospitalized and has since had to move out of her apartment and into a nursing home
• My Uncle Archie has bleeding on the brain and is having some cognitive struggles right now
• As with any family crisis, our marriage has taken a hit as we both deal with stress differently

I'm sure there is more, but it just feels like a really rough year.  I remember back in the early days of my sisters incident realizing when people say they can feel the weight of the stress on them.  I get that.  You literally CAN feel it.  And it hurts, and it's heavy, and it's hard to carry around but you literally have NO choice.

September 20 is going to be a HARD day for me.  But I am also using September 20 as the day I move forward.  Making more changes.  Rejuvenating my marriage, breaking out of this funk, make plans, set goals, cut back so I can give more.  You have choices in life.  Leslie's incident has left me living in fear and anger.  Fear that something could happen again to her or to someone else I love, and anger that it even happened at all.  Anger that our lives were changed without our consent.  I have lived with those emotions now for nearly a year, and while I won't say it's wrong to feel that way, it's not helping me.  I need positive changes.  I need to let go of the fear and just LIVE.  I need to let go of the anger and just ACCEPT.

We will get there.  Just like Leslie, baby steps.

Ethan started 2nd grade this week!  It is very bittersweet for me.  I love watching him grow and learn new things (he loves to learn!) but at the same time, it feels like just yesterday he was a tiny baby.  Where does the time go?

He was excited for his first day.  I was able to take him to school, but I had to work and I couldn't pick him up, so I was a little sad about that.  When I called to talk to him after the day was done, he seemed very tired.  His voice was monotone and he was just giving me one word answers to my questions.  This worried me, because I thought he'd have a lot more to say.  When I got home that night, we talked some more and it turns out that his teacher took away his erasers because they were in the shape of a car and it was too "toy-like".  I totally understand this, but it made him sad and I'm sure he was a little embarrassed, considering he was so excited to use his new school supplies. 

Also, as I was reading through the information his teacher sent home, I realized this year was going to be quite different from last year.  He's officially NOT a "baby" anymore, and things are going to be more challenging.  Less play time, more work.  His work will actually be graded now (no more stickers and smiley faces!) and he has to do weekly book reports.  Just reading it made me feel overwhelmed so I can only imagine how he felt hearing all this within a couple hours then being sent home.  That, and the fact that his two best friends are not in his class, he was just feeling stressed.  We talked about it a lot last night, though, and by bedtime, he seemed a lot more at ease.  Jay and I are very involved in his school life, so we will be right there with him throughout everything.  We take school very seriously, and we hope he does, too.

Today was his second day of school.  It was a full day and when I picked him up and asked how his day was, he said "It was great!"  He was happy and had lots to say.  I know this year is going to be great.  He has been blessed with wonderful teachers from preschool until now, so we know we are very, very lucky.

That is his nervous face.  And that is Allison's binky face (and yes, I realize the binky has got. to. go.  That'll be for another day, though!)

So while at work, I was still having the crazy palpitations, so one of the nurses suggested I go to the telemetry floor and have them run a strip on me.  Sounds like a great idea!  I caught the Ventricular Bigeneny within just a few minutes and I'll take it with me to my next cardiologist appointment which isn't until NOVEMBER!  ACK!  Oh well, though, at least I have an appointment and I am a little more sure that I won't be dying anytime soon from this :)

Ethan's first day of second grade was today but that deserves a post of it's own, so with that said, I'll leave you with pictures of my beautiful, jacked up heart rhythm.  (Altogether now:  Awwwww!)

What the heck, heart.  Get your act together and stop messing around!  You have a big job here, don't mess it up!