Withdrawals

Unfortunately, it seems that every time we come home for any period of time, something goes wrong. I'm so tired of something going wrong! I just want him to feel good, and healthy for once. He has been weaning off all his medications pretty much since he was discharged. Finally, he was down to the last one right before we came home. It's an anti depressant that they give to these guys at night to help them with sleep and nerve pain. It kind of leaves their mind blank, so they can sleep at night, and calms the brain down which in turn calms down the nerves for the nerve pain too. He's been taking it pretty much this entire time. He had no problems weaning off anything else, so he sped this one up a little. He went from 75mg every night to 50mg, then 25mg, then nothing in about a week and a half. Then he started complaining of not being able to sleep at night. At first we thought it was the bed. We're in a full bed at my mom's house, and it's really soft, almost too soft. Then he started getting headaches and feeling really nauseous throughout the day. Then I thought it was because he wasn't drinking enough water and the combination of his blood pressure medicine which can dehydrate him if he doesn't drink enough. Then we googled, and decided he was withdrawing from the Pamelor (the last drug he weaned off). We're really hoping these symptoms only last a couple of weeks. He's already sleeping better, so at least that's improved. I hope the nausea is soon to follow. I hate seeing him like this. He feels nauseous pretty much all day. He feels terrible because he wants to be better in time for this baby to arrive, which could really be any day now. He's tired of feeling like this, anyway, he says. And he doesn't understand how heroin addicts do it, haha. At least I know we'll never be on that show Intervention. If it hasn't improved by next week, we'll have to make an appointment with his doctor when we go back up there to await the arrival of this baby. I just hope it's not something more serious. I just can't think of what else it could possibly be. This is the first time in four months he's been virtually drug free, so I think it's just going to take his body some time to adjust to that. I hope*

Otherwise, our Christmas was great. We spent it with a lot of family, and actually on Christmas day, we were exhausted from all the family gatherings. His big gift was a computer program he likes to use to produce music, and some nice headphones, and also a Keurig. He got me a DSLR Camera, and I've been playing with that a lot. I'm excited to take pictures all day long of our baby. Don't worry, I most certainly will not be starting a photography business. :) It is exciting when I get one good picture out of about 400 though.

It's getting to the point now where we can't believe there are only 10 days - DAYS! - left until this baby is scheduled to arrive. I wonder if he'll come then, sooner, or later. My guess is still for the 7th. Jason thought he'd be here before Christmas. I don't feel any signs of him going anywhere in the next 10 days though. We lay in bed at night and are so thankful that we're going to get another full night's sleep. We are so fortunate to be able to have this time to collect ourselves before he comes, to be able to rest and nap all day long if we feel like it. I just can't believe I'm counting down the days until I won't ever be able to sleep through the night again. Even when he grows older, I'm sure I won't sleep as soundly. I'll always have that motherly worry throughout the nights. I used to periodically wake up and make sure our dog was still breathing. And I do it to Jason also.

Now, our nephews are coming up from Atlanta tomorrow. This could affect our amount of sleep. They are 5 and 7. There will be a lot of legos to be built, and entertaining to be done. And then we get to sit back and remind ourselves that this will be us in a few years. Then we'll have the "What were we thinking?" moment. Oh, joy, I already can't wait!

We've been watching One Born Every Minute. I'm probably most nervous about being a patient. I've never been a patient. If I ever go back to work, I'm sure I'll have so much more empathy for these ladies. I still can't believe they can regulate whether or not you can adopt a dog based on whether or not you'll agree to take them to doggie daycare, but they'll let anyone have a child. And they let you leave with it! And you're supposed to figure out how to do it all by yourself! And children do it all the time! How scary. In our case, we are not ignorant enough. And so, we are not blissful. Ha. We watch too much TV, really. When we watch Supernanny, we talk about how we are going to be way better parents than them. When we watch Teen Mom, we feel way better about ourselves and our situation. When we watch Beyond Scared Straight, we get so nervous that our child will end up that way. When we watch One Born Every Minute, we both just can't believe that's going to be us so freaking soon.

I have all these visions of perfect parenting, and I second guess myself so much, I know it's going to be a huge struggle for me. I want to do everything right. I never want to argue in front of him, or loose my temper, or bribe him, or feed him bad food. The reality is, I know I'm impatient (although they say it's different when it's your own), I know I'm lazy about cooking, and I know sometimes I can't control the volume of my voice. Ha. I will probably still use Johnson's & Johnson's baby shampoo. I will probably give my child Apple Juice at some point. And I will probably not feed him all organic stuff. I do hope to breastfeed for as long as I can. But, I hear that's extremely hard in the beginning. It makes me cringe to think about the pain even now.

So, these next few days will be spent waiting for this still nameless baby to arrive. I hope everyone that still reads this had a wonderful holiday!

Convalescent Leave

The blogs are slowing down as our schedule seems to slow down too. Jason went on convalescent leave starting last Friday. Thirty days of free leave from the Army to "recover" for those of you who aren't military. We decided to take it now because of the holidays, and the baby. He'll also get ten days of free paternity leave when this baby does come. It's a little stressful though, to be home with our families, I'm not going to lie. Here I am, almost 30, and I feel like I'm home on Christmas break from college again. Mom gets mad when I don't tell her where I'm going...still. We have to divide our time between my moms and his dads, and that can be a pain to drive back and forth. We're on leave, but are still living out of bags. And accumulating more stuff.

Operation Second Chance sent me my much wanted (and expensive) breast pump. Not so exciting for most, but it was for me. That was really the only 'big' thing left on our registry. Other than the crib and the glider I want, but won't get until we get back to Colorado. After all the generosity that has come our way because of Jason and the impending baby, I'm sure we can afford to buy those two things ourselves.

I had a doctors appointment today in Bethesda. If it's not him, it's me. We stopped by OT to get some different sized finger shrinkers, and say hello to everyone. It was definitely pretty dead. Then we waited over an hour for my appointment that lasted about ten minutes. I was becoming more and more irritated - and hungry - by the minute. The weather didn't help, either. Baby is still head down, heart beating, and breathing. Fluid looked good, GBS-, but no internal exam. My next appointment isn't scheduled until the 5th, which is two days before my due date. I figured I don't need to know whether or not I'm dilated. Ignorance is bliss right? We'll probably just pack up and go back to Bethesda to stay if I haven't gone in to labor by then. They don't do internal exams like they used to apparently, because everyone is shocked that I don't know if I'm dilated, or how much he weighs.

I wanted to try to go to the Pentagon City Mall on the way home, just to see what it was like. So we pick the shortest route according to our iPhones, but there was so.much.traffic. It was noon! On a Wednesday! Finally, about 3 miles down the road, Jason got too hungry, so we found a maze of a parking garage, and went to the Cheesecake factory where we still had to wait 15 minutes to be seated. At lunch! On a Wednesday! More and more irritated. I decided I hate the city. Doesn't matter what state it's in, I hate cities. There is nothing about the city that appeals to me. Crowds everywhere, all the time. Impatient people crossing busy streets holding traffic up. They always say cities are more fast paced, but I can't see how that's possible if it takes you 3 hours to run one errand. So by the time our 2 1/2 hour lunch was done, we're pushing rush hour. We continue the way we were going, towards the mall. All the way through Georgetown, and down by Washington Harbor. I'm a terrible navigator, and so we missed our exit. It only took that for Jason to give up and just go home. So we got on 395 and went an average speed of 30mph all the way to the route 1 exit. It took us 3 hours to get home. Long day for one doctors appointment.

Since we've been home (last Friday), Sadie has gotten up on the counter and eaten cookies three different times. The first, was Friday before mom's Christmas party. Mom had all the food on the table, and pushed it back, but not far enough. She came upstairs to get ready, and then we were all upstairs. I waited to hear her follow, but she didn't, which is unusual because she always has to be within eyesight of someone. I called and she didn't come, started down the stairs and called again. Finally she came around the corner smacking her lips pretty hard. I looked at the table but couldn't find anything disturbed. There was a plate of cream puffs with a section missing. I couldn't tell if Mom had planned to put something else there, or if she really at all those cream puffs. Later on, Mom says "Where did all these cream puffs go?!" Strike 1.

Last night, I noticed some crumbs on the counter in front of a plate of cookies left over from the party. I asked dad if he ate those cookies since it looked like half the plate was gone (it was full before). He said "I had a few" and looked over at the plate "but not that many..." Strike 2.

Today, after we all got home, dad showed mom a basket and said "Well, this is the only one she left..." Apparently he didn't know she was leaving, so Sadie was once again downstairs by herself at some point. Mom had individually wrapped all the glorious Christmas cookies Jason and I worked so hard to decorate at Laurens' house last week. She was saving them for our nephews who are coming to visit. Sadie ate all but one. Apparently she took them to her crate, unwrapped the plastic, and ate at least four giant, heavily frosted, sugar cookies. Strike 3.

It's safe to say, she has a sweet tooth. She's also going to be a handful when we get her back. We don't generally leave food out on the counters like they do here, though. She did eat pizza off the top of the stove once, back in Colorado. I suppose these are the joys of being a dog owner. Our old dog ate a whole chicken off the counter back when I was growing up. She knocked over the Christmas tree, too.

Today is the seven year anniversary of the death of our high school friend, Nick Mason. He was killed in Iraq in 2004 by a suicide bomber. It rocked our small town, and everyone still goes to great lengths for his memory, which warms my heart. We didn't get to send off red balloons today because we were stuck in traffic for about 3 hours this afternoon if I haven't already mentioned that. It's hard to believe it's been seven years, though. I remember I was online, IMing - home on Christmas break from JMU - when a friend called and told me what had happened. The war was still so new, and I was still so naive to it, it was really hard to believe at the time. Now, it has all but defined our generation, and it has definitely changed my life forever. It's hard to think back to before the war. And while they are finally finished with Iraq, which is glorious, I wonder how much longer we will be in Afghanistan. At least every other day, the Medevac comes in with more wounded soldiers. I've been meaning to take a picture of it, just the 'bus' as they call it, to remind people that this is still happening. Peoples lives are still changing forever after that one phone call. Even though we're done with Iraq, remember soldiers are still dying, or becoming seriously injured in Afghanistan.

Nick and I did not get along in high school. But, we literally grew up together. Went to Sunday School together, my mom taught him in the fifth grade. After we graduated, we got much closer, thanks to AIM and the good ol days. We talked almost every day when he was deployed, before the days of Skype. I always wonder what our friendship would be like if he had come home. The same things so many families have wondered these past 9 or 10 years, and will continue to wonder until this nonsense stops.

I am thankful this Christmas that my husband sleeps soundly upstairs, as healthy as healthy can be considered in his situation. Almost all in one piece. Off all of his medications, and thriving. So excited to become a new daddy. A gift so many have given up.

Month 4

I remember sitting in the Navy Lodge, probably at like midnight, typing the "Month 1" post...wondering where we'd be now, and even further down the road. Some days it doesn't seem like we've come very far, other days it feels like we can taste the Colorado oxygen...or lack thereof.

Now, my hands and feet are swollen from walking around all day. Even the "fat, pregnant ring" I bought, is too tight. I'm just going to have to give up on rings for a while. I thought walking was supposed to help. It seems to make it worse for me. Especially in my hands. But my hands used to swell from walking a lot even when I wasn't pregnant. I'm just special I guess. But if that's the worst of the pregnancy symptoms I'm going to get, I guess I should be thankful. Everyone thinks I am crazy anyway, but I really haven't had any crazy mood swings. Unless I'm talking to my mother. The other night, she asked a billion questions all in a row...just complete a thought woman! And as per usual, I got irritated. And she says "Gosh, why are you so sensitive? Geez, those hormones are out of control." Come on. Really? Saying that to any daughter would probably irritate her, haha. The joys of a mother/daughter relationship. I do hope I get to have one, one day. I don't think my son is going to want to talk to me on the phone every night when he's 27.

The appointments still haven't slowed down. Maybe it seems worse because we're trying to get a lot of things done before he goes on convalescent leave. So yesterday, we added a few appointments to the week, and every day there's something new. Then his platoon sergeant or nurse case manager is calling or texting him all morning trying to get a hold of him to do some other administrative crap, even though they could look it up and see that he's got appointments in a building where we get no cell phone service.

So then I look back and remember when I was thinking we'd have all this free time on our hands. Ha. It's never going to end. Even once we leave, I'm sure we'll always be tied to this place some way or another. He'll probably have to come back every once in a while for prosthetic adjustments. And once we get to Colorado, there will be a new heap of problems. Inprocessing and Fort Carson trying to figure out how to deal with his situation. Ugh.

Today at OT, while his hand was in the heat machine thing, we talked about how different it will be once we're "back to normal." He was realizing that even for regular work, he'll possibly have to lug different legs, and socks to work. We'll have to get zippers in all his long pants so that he will be able to access his leg if he needs to add or remove socks mid day.

He could go to the X Games at the end of January, but I couldn't go with baby, and he doesn't seem to want to leave us behind. They're in Colorado, and I think he should go, to get away, and because you don't get a chance to do that very often, but we'll see.

We went to the Army/Navy game this past Saturday. It was a lot nicer than we thought. We came all prepared for the freezing cold, but our seats were in the Upper Level Suites where it's all heated, but the front is open to the field. The lunch was free, but sodas were $5 a piece, and beer was $9! We didn't really get to watch much of the game though. Right before half time, we were supposed to go to the back by the door and meet the President, and when we were told about it, it sounded like a hush hush thing that no one else knew about. Until everyone started seeing everyone else crowding around the door. Then it just got nuts. People were yelling to move back, and we got cut in front of a ton of times. Jason was wearing pants, so no one could tell he was wounded. We ended up in a corner behind people in uniform who seemed to be working the event, but wanted to meet him also. I know everyone wanted to, but it was supposed to be for the wounded warriors, and they were getting swooped by these people. My heart was racing because I was becoming so livid, not because we were about to meet the President. My rude comments started getting louder and louder. Finally after about 10 minutes of pushing and shoving, we realized he was on the field at the half time show. Ha.

When he did finally make his appearance, he walked right by us. We moved to another area, and he started back the other way. They kept telling us to come this way or go that way, and finally we ended up on the opposite side that we started on, being one of the last people to see him. He is very personable, and tall and skinny in person. He asked when I was due, boy or girl, and if we had any names. Jason asked if he had any suggestions, and he said he heard Barack was a good one. We took a picture with him, and that was that. I woke up multiple times that night mad at myself for not saying something about Jason's injury so he'd get the recognition he deserved, but I couldn't figure out how to work it in to the conversation at that moment. If we ever see him again, I'll be sure to tell him. Ha.

We went to see The Nutcracker at Warner Theatre on Sunday night. I've been wanting to do that for a while. The tickets were really expensive, but we treated ourselves since we got screwed on the Pentagon :) It was a great show, and Jason even enjoyed it.

So, here we are, four months later, still going. Now, waiting for this baby to make his appearance, and thankfully he's waited this long to do so. It doesn't feel like he's coming any time soon, but how would I know, I've never done this before. He is still head down, with hands and feet on my right side, butt in my ribs, and back on my left side. Hopefully he stays that way. And hopefully we can make it through Christmas, and it doesn't snow or ice or anything since we will be driving back and forth from Bethesda to King George at least once a week until he decides to show. The car seat is in the car, and the diaper bag is packed. We need to pack the hospital bag, and Jason is determined to put towels in the car in case I deliver en route. Ha. I don't think it will happen that fast. But I sneezed yesterday and it hurt the ligaments in my uterus, so I said "ow ow ow ow" and he thought I was going in to labor again. haha. When it finally does happen, I'm sure we'll look back on all this and laugh.

Hopefully, at month five, we'll have a baby here!

so done

Let me just say, this will most likely be another depressing, 'woe is me' post. Just FYI.

Back in October, right after we were discharged, we found the events office and learned about all the events they had to offer. We signed up that week to go to the Pentagon but we were on the waiting list. We got a call saying we could go, but we ended up not being allowed because he was still inprocessing to his attached unit here, and we had to go to a mandatory brief that same day. It wasn't as big of a deal then because we didn't think we'd be able to get off the waiting list anyway, and we were really busy with all the appointments and inprocessing after just being discharged. They only do the Pentagon tours every other month, so we were stoked when we saw it back on the list again for December. Perfect. Right before the baby gets here, and he really wanted to go. We were among the first on the list, and have been counting on this trip for at least two weeks. It's all we've been looking forward to this week, which has gone by like molasses. We've told his PT and OT that we won't be here on Friday because we're going on the tour, and were so careful not to schedule any other appointments for that day.

He gets a text this afternoon. (The tour is tomorrow) "Confirm your appointment for bone scan at 1430 tomorrow." WTF. Who scheduled this appointment?? Why didn't they call us first? I understand he's in the military and 'owned by the government' but give him a break. Where's the morale? It was his nurse case manager who was texting him. This man who we have to meet with every Monday morning to be sure Jason still isn't suicidal or homicidal and doesn't need any appointments. If he does, he's supposed to make them for him. Fat chance. We ended up making his last appointment ourselves because it took this guy two days to do it; and it was for a med refill, so not something we can just sit on. He has been trying to get an appointment for a bone scan so he can be approved for running. They told us they were booked through January. But there is a special guy who squeezes them in anyway. This special guy is out sick all week, so we were going to call next week to schedule the appointment for right before we go on leave. Somehow, someone made this appointment for tomorrow, instead. An appointment that will last all of 15 minutes I'm sure.

Now, I know I'm supposed to be all happy and excited that he's got this appointment even though they told us they were booked through January. But, I'm a negative person. And I can totally see us showing up tomorrow for this 15 minute appointment, and the mean lady at the desk will say "you're not showing up in the system." like she did last time. If this happens, I will probably lose my mind. So, we missed an awesome, once in a lifetime, full day tour of the Pentagon for this bullshit.

He texted his case manager back and told him about the scheduled trip, and he told him he had to go to this 'hard to schedule appointment, the pentagon can be rescheduled.' It must be the selfishness in me, but the bone scan can be done 5 days a week. They only do this tour 6 times a year. And so that means the next time they do it, the baby will be here, and I can't see myself taking a newborn on an all day tour. Yeah, let's breastfeed in the middle of the Pentagon. Awesome.

Why no phone call? Why do they think we just sit here ready to go to appointments all day long? Why do we have to drop everything else we have planned for these stupid appointments? Where is the mental wellbeing coming in to play here? I really wanted to go on this trip, maybe more than him, so maybe that's why I'm so upset about it. We've been to the White House twice, but they were both self guided tours, we have yet to be able to get on the official tour where you meet the president and all that. Why? Because of appointments.

He won't fight it though, which I guess I can't push him on, it's his career. And I guess that's why I'm not in the military. I, apparently, don't do well with authority. I wanted to go give this guy a piece of my mind, but he wouldn't let me. I just don't get how he can be so complacent about these things. I was like, utterly crushed that we couldn't go. I am going to be biting my tongue tomorrow morning as we walk by the bus with police escort just to go to the appointments that we already told them we won't be at. And then twiddle our thumbs until 1430.

Why do I let things make me this upset? If this bone scan is the correct one, then I should be happy that he's one step closer to being approved for running, getting the running leg, and getting out of here. But instead, I stewed all afternoon, and pouted, and was so mad I wanted to scream, but figured it would do no good. All the while, he just goes along with his day like it doesn't bother him, and that just makes me even more mad. I know if I ask him, he'll say "There's nothing I can do about it, sitting here being mad isn't going to help anything." And there's logic in that statement, but my brain doesn't work that way I guess.

So, I officially hate it here. I hate the people, and I hate the reasons that we're here. I hate that all they preach is morale and mental health, and get involved! And then they make it freaking impossible. We're signed up to go to the Army/Navy game Saturday, but I suppose I shouldn't get too excited about that until we're on the bus to go.

And all day tomorrow, I will walk around with a scowl on my face, insanely bitter that I'm not at the pentagon meeting super important people and all that fun stuff.

That doesn't help him any, and it certainly doesn't make for a very friendly wife. I hate that I do this, and react this way in these situations. I hate that everyone in the universe can tell when I'm beyond pissed. How do people put on those fake happy faces all the time and go about their business like grown ups? I'm still so, so childish, I think.

Then I try to remember why we're here, and how it was 4 months ago, and how distraught I was about much bigger things. I need to always keep that fresh in my memory. Because missing a tour at the Pentagon is not the end of the world. But today, it was for me.

another week gone

Our days have been pretty much the same this last week. It was our first full week of appointments since his hospitalization because of Veterans Day and Thanksgiving. It's like going back to school after Thanksgiving only to have to study for finals, and then have a month off for Christmas. Speaking of which, we're hoping to get his convalescent leave for the middle of December through the middle of January. After that, the baby should be here, and he'll get ten days of paternity leave. His therapists will likely clear him to do PT and OT on his own, so we won't have to go to appointments while on leave. We will have to work a little harder to stay motivated to work out, though :)

I think, for the most part, we have everything we need for baby! Jason and I went to Babies R Us the other day, and got a lot of the remaining things from our registry. I could've been in there for hours. He faded quickly, though. I tried to only get the basic things, but we'll see how much of the stuff I have, I actually use. This baby already has a dresser full of clothes which I tried to organize by size. I can't wait to get back to Colorado so he'll have his own space. Right now we have the pack n play with little changing thing on top in our room, a cradle my mom found in the living room, and all his clothes and changing table pad in the second bedroom. He's kind of all spread out, but oh well. I know I'll be too anal to not have him in our room in the beginning, especially with breastfeeding. Jason has been fighting me on having multiple changing areas...he just doesn't understand the point. I tried to explain it, but he still doesn't see my logic. He thinks he can just change him in our bed every time. ha. Until he pees all over the sheets at 0200. I'm sure how we have it set up now will change once he comes. That's how it always works. I'm not going to lie, having the pack n play across the room even freaks me out a little. I won't be able to see him breathing from all the way in the bed! Yes, I'm that nervous. Now I just feel like a sitting duck, wondering when I will go in to labor. We're going to have to bring the car seat and hospital bag home with us on leave just to have. And I will probably have to come back up here once a week for a check up which is a bummer, but I will survive it. I'm hoping he'll hold out until after Christmas. Jason seems to think he's going to come sooner.

We set a goal date for returning to Colorado of 31 March. That's just the date we've set for ourselves, of course he'll have to clear this base and all the doctors first. We need to get a bunch more legs, he has to have a bone density scan to clear him for running, he has to go to the gait lab to be sure he's walking okay, he needs to go to the wheelchair clinic to get a custom wheelchair that will probably take 6-8 weeks before it comes. That took some convincing; he didn't want to get one at all. I'm just afraid we will need it down the road in case anything happens and he can't use the crutches. Basically, I am trying to drain this place of all it has to offer before we leave and it becomes that much more of a hassle.

I almost feel bad though, for being this far in his recovery that we are able to think about returning home and getting on with our lives. There are people who have been here for 2 years. I don't know how they do it. A lot of these guys are doing their med board process here, though, and that can take at least a year in itself. We are waiting until we get back to Colorado to start the med board. That way we can be in our own home, and hopefully I can get a part time job eventually. Otherwise, I'd have to go back to Colorado alone (and with the baby), while he stayed here in the single soldier barracks and did his med board. A lot of guys are med boarding out of the Army though, so it might be a little different for their families too. He wants to stay in, and stay at Fort Carson for a few more years, so that's why we're trying so hard to go back. I just hope that once we are back, we will be happy. In life, there are always those times when you say "I just want to do.....whatever it is....and then I will be happy." But then that thing comes and goes, and you think of something else that would make you so happy. Right now, Colorado is our 'thing'.

This weekend we're going to the White House again, for a tour to see the Christmas decorations, nothing official unfortunately. Next week we do get an official tour of the Pentagon though, so that will be fun. We have a Christmas party to go to tomorrow night, and then another labor/delivery/breastfeeding/baby class all day Sunday.

It feels like I'm running out of things to write about. Hopefully the holidays will prove to be a little more eventful. Although, I can say, sometimes I don't mind the fact that things aren't too eventful around here these days!

Give Thanks

The swelling has begun. Ugh. I was so (selfishly) hoping I'd get away with an almost perfect pregnancy. Guess I shouldn't be jumping the gun here. I started noticing it last week, I think. In the mornings my hands swell, and any time I sit for too long my feet swell. They used to do that anyway, but with pregnancy, it's way worse. Then when I stand up, and my toes are still touching each other when I walk, ugh, I hate that feeling. So, the 6 hour car drive home from the beach this evening was fun. I was trying to stretch and put them up on the dash, but that's just not comfortable. Between Jason and I, we have three constantly swollen feet! ha. They're not swollen all the time, though, so I can be very grateful for that.

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family. We kind of got out of his appointments on Wednesday since he only had PT and OT, and ended up leaving Tuesday afternoon. We drove down to VaBeach to visit his brother and his family for the night and all day Wednesday. It was nice to spend time with just them. Usually when we see them, it's over the holidays or at a family function and it's hard to just have conversation between the four of us. We got some baby time in with their nine month old, and that was quite entertaining. It of course got me thinking of all the things I'll/we'll have to deal with very soon. It took me three months...maybe more...to pick out a diaper bag. How will I ever make my own decisions when it comes to raising a child. Goodness.

We left late Wednesday, and drove down to the Outer Banks where my mom has beach property. We spent our days planning the next meal, and hanging out with good company. It was relaxing. We did a little black Friday shopping but there aren't many big stores down there. It may have been a blessing in disguise. We also finished a puzzle, played Yahtzee, Scattegories, and Mad Gab.

Our dog was even allowed to go to the beach - my mom has never allowed pets at her beach houses, just because of the clean up and dog hair, and wet dogs and sand and all that. But since our neighbors would be at the beach with us, we had no choice but to bring her unless we wanted to spend Thanksgiving without my dad. I didn't think she'd be one to run straight to the water anyway, and she wasn't. She just laid in the sand next to us while we were sitting on the beach. This time of year, a lot of people have their pets down there, so she was having a hard time with the social scene. My parents are a godsend for all the help they've given us these last few months, especially with Sadie. But, my dad, who talks to her like she's a human, refuses to use her shock collar or continue with any of the training we had done. She's become very spoiled and less socialized just because of where they live, and it worries me. Apparently multiple times while they were on the beach, if another dog approached her, she would start growling and barking and pulling on the leash which my mom couldn't hold. I will do anything not to have to get rid of this dog after the baby comes, but I am so, so worried for when we return to Colorado. She's had a lot of changes these last few months, the beach was a new change too. New owners, new houses, new people. Then we'll go back to Colorado where all the sudden she won't be #1 any more, and there will be a baby to deal with. She has never, ever been aggressive, but she is an animal, and you can never predict what they will do. I think my dad has been a little more rough in playing with her, too, because we were playing on the beach and she started mouthing my legs, which she's never done before. In a playful way, and it was fine with me, but I can't imagine it'd be fine with a toddler...

Anyway, what's one of my blogs without a worry rant?!

Jason's finger looks much better, we've been wrapping it to start the shrinking process. The stitches will come out on Tuesday and then we can start more scar massage and OT. He figured out that he can't shuffle a deck of cards, and he tried to pick something up off the floor and couldn't because it was right between those fingers. But, he'll adapt, he has already adapted to a lot so far.

There are a few last things I still need to get for this nameless baby. We need to move a desk in this lovely apartment, and I need to wash all the clothes. We also need to figure out a name. And we have a lot of Christmas shopping to finish. I am not looking forward to shopping up in DC around this time of year.

We get to tour the Pentagon next Friday, the White House again this Saturday to look at the Christmas decorations, and the Army/Navy game is next Saturday. It's going to be a busy next couple of weekends, so we'll have to push the shopping to during the week. That will probably be best anyway because of the craziness that is this place.

The appointments still haven't seemed to slow down. We have yet to have an entire week when it's just PT and OT. Inevitably there's another one thrown in there somewhere. This week we have a 'scrimmage', Ortho, and Infectious Disease on top of his PT and OT. Plus he's been trying to get with the piano man - a guy who offers free lessons (and is highly reputable) but the timing is never right. We're going to try to do that this week.

So, all in all, our Thanksgiving was wonderful. I am grateful I got to spend it with my husband, although if I had it my way, I'd still rather him be in Afghanistan than us be in this situation. But, I'm being grateful here, so I'm glad for that. I'm glad that the rest of the guys that are still in Afghanistan are safe, too. I'm glad that we're able to be this close to family at a time like this, and that we are able to drive everywhere to see them. Jason drove the entire trip, by the way. I'm glad I've had such an easy pregnancy so far, and I hope I don't jinx it by saying that.

Slowly, I find myself forgetting what life was like back in August. This is normal now, and we feel 'at home' when we drive on to this base. I always try to remind myself of how angry and emotional I was back then, and my reasoning for it, so that I will stay grounded and not take this for granted. We talk about it often, about what those first couple of days were like for both of us. I, and everyone around us, are amazed at how far we've come in only three months. There isn't much more we could be thankful for at the moment.

Ok, 9.5 fingers!

So since I've last updated, we actually have 9.5 fingers!

My baby shower last week was fabulous, and I feel very blessed to have gotten all the wonderful things I (we) did. Almost everyone came, and it did feel wonderful to talk to old friends and see new babies I hadn't had the chance to meet yet.

That evening, I drove back up to Bethesda and after unloading a car full of baby shower gifts, I finally made it over to the hospital around 10pm. Oh, how I hate those hospital rooms. It felt weirdly nostalgic, going back up to the fourth floor, this time a different room, but still. And it's only been about 6 weeks since we were there. The room was much less cluttered, for sure. And Jason, much more mobile. He still had all his fingers at that point, and had that stupid 2x4 for a hand again.

I stayed until about 1am I think, too late as usual. I got up at 4:30 to be sure I was back in time for the doctor to come by. During his entire first inpatient stay, I never saw this illusive hand doctor because he always came so early. I would not miss this encounter. He didn't come until 9. Jason obviously wasn't first case for the OR. He explained that he looked at the MRI, and he offered 3 options. First, try to save the finger. Second, take it from the fracture site. Third, ray resection, or take the whole finger and the ligaments down in to the hand, moving the fingers closer together. He felt the best option would be number two, and since we spent the weekend under the impression he wouldn't even have that option, we were happy. Well, I was. I can't speak for Jason. I know he was/is disappointed in having to give up another body part and learn to adapt in a new way for different things again.

Poor thing had been NPO since midnight, and finally went down to surgery around 1:30 if I remember correctly. I was too afraid to leave and get all the way back to the room and then have them call me and say they were done. I really wanted to talk to the doctor afterwards to see what had happened.

My wonderful friends who took half my baby shower stuff back up north for me, met me and waited in the waiting room with me until he was done. The doctor finally came out and had pictures of his finger. They took it from the fracture site, which was about half way between the middle and distal knuckle and folded the remaining skin up over top. It looks a little funny, I'm not going to lie, but at least he still has some function in it. Since I knew he'd be back up from surgery in a little while, the girls and I went back to our room and they helped me unload all the rest of the baby shower stuff. They were wonderful enough to help me organize it all, also! I finally showered, and ventured back up to the room to see Jason. We ordered pizza, and called it a night.

We found out the next day he would likely go back to the OR on Wednesday for a wash out. This confused me because the doctor said his remaining bone looked very healthy, so he went ahead and closed it. It just didn't (and still doesn't) make sense to me that they would close a wound and then go back in and open it up again. I was slightly upset about this because we were really hoping to get out of the hospital by the weekend. If he had to go back to the OR, I could't see them letting him go by then. Of course, as is normal while inpatient, we got the runaround.

Wednesday comes around, and he's down in PreOp before 6am when I show up. They gave him the option of going back to the OR for another washout and then doing oral antibiotics for about a week at home, or not going to the OR, and getting a PICC Line and having IV antibiotics for about 6 weeks at home. He chose the first.

That evening, we hoped he'd be switched to oral antibiotics for possible discharge the next day. I guess I was rushing the process. Instead of that, they put him on the bacteria specific antibiotic and wrote the order for 3 days. WTF. I was mad. Earlier, the Ortho docs and the Infectious Disease docs told us 'yes he can be switched to oral meds, and yes possible discharge tomorrow.' You better believe I was mad. But it was late when she hung the first bag, and of course all the people you want to talk to go home by 4pm. The next morning, Thursday, Infectious Disease came in before I had a chance to get there, and told him they wanted him to stay on the IV antibiotics while he was inpatient. So we assumed that meant we'd be here through the weekend. I was hot. They happened to come in again later in the day. I tried to be polite, but I still said "So do you guys ever communicate with the other doctors on his case? Or do they just have to read your notes? Because it seems like we're getting a lot of back and forth here. It'd be nice if we could get a straight answer."

They didn't say much.

I think we ended Thursday still not knowing if we'd be home by the weekend. We were both in a really crappy mood. The weather was yucky that day too. It's amazing how fast things change. It was like going back to jail after having a small taste of freedom. We were confined to the hospitals protocols and all that bahooie. We were grumpy. This time Jason could walk, and do most everything by himself. The grass is always greener, I guess. I decided I'd go to Target and finally do some baby shopping after returning a few duplicates from the baby shower. I have been itching to buy stuff for this baby, but I didn't want to until after the shower.

Friday morning he said they came in and said they were going to try to discharge him first thing. Thank goodness. It still took until about 1130 to get out of there, but we did it. And we came back to building 62, packed our bags, and went upstairs to eat lunch. Then we got on a bus to Ocean City. Talk about wasting no time!

We signed up to go on a marriage retreat with the Army a few weeks ago. It's pretty religious based, but it's also a free trip. We had a good time, learned a few techniques for communicating and such, and relaxed a little. But we're still pretty tired from it all.

We got back this evening, and I didn't bother to fully unpack our bags. It's Thanksgiving this week. We're making the trek down to Nags Head to be with my family. We're going to stop in Va Beach on the way to visit his brother and family to break up the trip. Hopefully the traffic isn't a nightmare. I have a bad feeling about that, though.

Now we have lots of appointments to catch up on. A scan for his hip to be cleared for running, an x-ray of his nub to confirm HO, follow up with ortho and infectious disease, cancel appointments for the fluoroscopy he was supposed to have of that finger, wheelchair clinic, and my baby appointment. phew.

We did put the stroller/car seat and pack n' play together, though. That was exciting, and a little nerve wracking at the same time. Like, "Oh shit this is our junk now. We're having a baby soon. Real soon. A little human. Oh crap." Jason helped me cut all the tags off all the baby clothes. I was going to wash them all. That was a little over zealous of me. I just did one load for tonight, of blankets, towels, washcloths, and sheets. It was a full load. I'm trying this new thing, where even though I have this huge list of things I want to get accomplished, I have to be realistic of the timeline. If I had done the rest of the clothes, I'd still be awake right now doing laundry. And in reality, what's the rush right now? So, I forced myself to leave the rest of the stuff in piles on the bed. I'll try to tackle it tomorrow.

This baby still has no name. Suggestions?

Nine Fingers?

What a weekend. And it's not even over yet.

Probably the worst Veterans Day weekend my Veteran will ever have.

Disclaimer*

This will likely be a more negative/depressing blog. If you're not interested in reading that kind of material, stop now.

Where should we begin!?

We came home Thursday afternoon. He drove the whole way, and said it felt like a work out, but did a great job. He was complaining of pain in his finger only a little. That night, the pain increases to the point of nausea, and he ended up taking an Oxycontin which he hasn't taken in a really long time. He felt defeated because he had to take it, but I wasn't going to have him in that much pain all weekend.

The next morning he woke up still nauseous, and in even more pain in his finger. We showered, and for the first time, got this finger wet. The pins came out on Tuesday, and since they were out, he was allowed to get that wound wet, and they encouraged it. We drizzled soapy water over it from the wash cloth, but the whole time, he was almost in tears in pain. From the standing on one leg for the duration of the shower, to the finger throbbing, he was so done. We quickly finished in the shower, and started to do some wound care. The pin site was oozing pretty bad, but this wasn't uncommon for him. It did that when the pins were in. The pain was new. Also new, the redness, swelling, and heat coming from that finger. We dressed it, and decided to take his morning medications and wait an hour to see how it felt. And when he showers in the morning, his leg swells, and he can't fit in to his prosthetic. So it was a morning of defeats. He had to scoot down the stairs on his butt, and I could see the "I'm so done." all over his face.

We relaxed on the couch, put his leg up, took his medicine, tried to eat. After about 2 hours, he said he felt much better, and the only pain was the stinging. I told him to watch so close for any redness going up his hand or arm, and that if that happens, he better get his ass back home. He went up to visit his friend from high school, and spent most of the day and night up there. He said his finger still hurt pretty bad, but he was trying not to be a "b*tch" about it. When he got home, it was still red, but nothing moving. Very swollen too.

Saturday morning he woke up, and I could tell he wasn't in as much pain. He sounded surprised when I asked and he said "Actually, it's not that bad!" And then we looked at it and saw that it had started pussing, out the back end of the dressing. Gross. So, we called our nurse neighbor friend for a second opinion, and started the dressing change process. Now the wound was bigger. The tissue directly over the break looked bruised, and as he put pressure on the skin around the wound, it just oozed. We've been trying to heal this skin graft for the past 2 months. It was almost closed. Now it's bigger. Not a good sign. He said he could feel the bone shifting when he held his hand sideways, because of the break. Still very swollen and red, although not as hot. And no streaking. We call Joe from OT, even though we know he won't be able to tell us what to do, we just wanted to know if wound care was on call on the weekends. They're not. And the consensus is to go to the ER.

We decide it'd be best for him to go all the way back up to Bethesda since they have all his records and access to all his doctors there. I felt terrible. His dad agreed to take him, thank goodness. But, I wish I could've been there.

We really thought they'd just put him on antibiotics and send him home with a follow up on Monday. That didn't happen.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting at my house waiting for my Dad to bring my dog back home...there was a miscommunication, or lack thereof, and he didn't know I wanted to leave with her at 11 to go visit a friend and get her groomed. He never takes his cell phone. Anywhere. And I know as soon as I leave to go look for them, he'll come home, so I just wait. He gets home with minutes to spare of the time I needed to leave to get her to her appointment on time. I get half way down my stupid windy road that I hate driving on anyway, and realize I forgot the rabies certificate. Have to turn around and get it. Now we're going to be way late. Finally get there, make another wrong turn, which makes us even later. It is not our day, I decide. Take her to the groomer where they say it can be anywhere from 3-5 hours. Good Lord I don't know what they do to those dogs for that long. I went to hang out with my friend while she was there. Finally at the 4 hour mark, I call to see how much longer it will be. I get "Oh, you're Sadie's mom? Hold on a minute." Never a good sign. I'm thinking, great, they gave my dog to the wrong person or something like that. Another woman comes on the phone "Well, Sadie is all finished, but she cut her foot. We had the vet take a look at it and she said she could throw a stitch in there if you wanted, but it doesn't seem to be bothering her at all." So this is how parents feel when the daycare calls and says their child has hurt themselves. No, it's no charge. Sure, we'll do it and she'll be ready in about 15 minutes they tell me. We get there in the 15 minutes she told us it would be - "Oh, well we got really busy and the doctor is going to see her right after she finishes up with the other patient." Ok. 30 minutes go by, still no Sadie. Now I'm thinking, if they come out and tell me she had an allergic reaction and they'll have to keep her overnight, or she kicked them while they were doing the procedure and they cut her more, I'm going to flip my lid. An hour later, some chic says "Well we got really slammed with appointments and the doctor is finishing up a urinalysis and then she'll see Sadie. We can't really move anyone to the front of the line for treatment." I'm thinking - uh yes you can, you were the ones who cut her foot, you can see her first. But of course I just smile and nod instead. Finally the doctor comes out, says 'maybe I'll glue it instead' Ok fine just do it and let's go, and 4 seconds later she was done. We waited an hour and a half for 4 seconds of gluing.

So my friends dog, Riley and Sadie finally get to meet and play for a while, although by this time I think Sadie is totally overstimulated and exhausted.

Jason calls and says "Bad news." Great.

The short story to all this is:

His finger is, in fact, infected.

(He sent me a picture around 3pm of a red streak starting up his arm - he was the first to notice it, and informed the Doctor about it I assume - by 9pm, he still hadn't received IV antibiotics)

They were now worried about bone infection.

They tried to give him a temporary nerve block so they could open the wound more, the wound we've tried so hard to heal, and see how much was infected. He said it didn't really work.

They gave him IV Dilaudid and he was high for a couple hours he said, but that wore off too.

He left his book bag in his dads truck at home with all his medications and socks and shrinkers for his leg. I was so mad at him for that, I'm not even going to lie. What was he thinking?!

He got x-rays, and apparently his Ortho Doc was consulted.

He got an MRI but doesn't know the results of that yet, although with this streak of luck, I can guess what they're going to be.

He was admitted back to the fourth floor where he spent his first month and a half here.

Surgery on Monday.

Basically, we're looking at losing a finger. And not just the tip, the entire finger. Where they take the finger and all the ligaments in the hand and fuse the hand smaller so there's no space for the remaining fingers to drift. Sweet. Now he'll have a peg leg and a pterodactyl hand. As if people don't stare enough. As if he doesn't already feel like a circus act, let's tack this on.

I guess the doctor told him that before he goes in to surgery, he will have him sign a consent that basically says if they need to take the finger, they will be allowed to. I'm having a hard time with this. I just think it's the easy way out for the doctor. "Eh, it's not looking so hot. Eff it, let's just cut the thing off - hey student would you like to do this one?" I can so picture that. It's how the medical world works unfortunately. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a raging bitch when I show up there tonight, and I don't even care. But I don't think I'm going to let him add that to the consent.

What I'm so mad about, is that this was never considered until now. When I asked the doctors about an MRI wayyyyy back when he was still inpatient, they all just said "Oh, I'll have to look. I'm sure he had one somewhere, it's just not showing up in our system."

He never got an MRI in Bethesda. Until yesterday.

I'm no genius, but if someone is coming in with multi trauma - wouldn't they want a generalized, overall picture of what is going on inside, to be sure they're not missing anything? If he had had the MRI done in the beginning, would they have even noticed his middle finger bone being infected? If he'd had it done, they would've had something to compare this one to at least. And not only the bone infection, he should've had one done simply because he stepped on a freaking land mine. If that's not close enough to an explosion to warrant an MRI, then I don't know what is. I might have to consult my legal friends on this one. If he has to lose his finger for something that could've been prevented? Oh yeah.

Bone infection does not happen over the course of 4 days. They told him that it's probably been infected this entire time, and when the pins came out, it finally moved out of the bone and in to the skin where it started showing itself.

Again, I find myself wondering "How much more can I take?" I was ok with the leg, I had to be. I didn't get a choice in that one. Now, with this finger business, we have a choice as to how his treatment goes, and I obviously want them to do everything they can to save that finger, minus letting the infection spread so he ends up loosing his hand. The missing leg is almost less weird than a three finger hand to me right now. But, if it happens, I'm sure I will get used to it, just like we've gotten used to everything else.

I hate that he has to wake up and look at that leg every morning, because I know he's thinking how much it sucks. And now we're going to lose more movement in this hand since they have it immobilized in a huge stupid cast again. "Hey, let's see how much progress you can make, and then lets make you start all over again because you have to have another part of your body removed!" Sounds like a fun game someone's playing with our life.

And now, here's the selfish rant.

This weekend was supposed to be about me. He acknowledged that, which made me feel a little better, but it doesn't make the situation any better. We were supposed to have some professional pictures taken this morning which obviously didn't happen. My baby shower is this afternoon. I know, out of general concern, people will want to know how Jason is, and ask about him. Do I tell them the entire story that will take forever or do I just tell them he's fine? Chances are, some of my guests will have read this before coming, so maybe the word will get out, and I won't have to explain anything a million times. But the only part I can think about is the fact that we have 4 big boxes of stuff we mailed home from Colorado to go back up to Bethesda, plus everything from the baby shower. And now I get to drive it up and unload it all by myself.

That's not fair, you're probably saying. Yes, I know. He didn't do this on purpose. He didn't do any of this on purpose. I understand that. But these are the thoughts going through my head in my current state. So just deal with it.

Here we were hoping he'd be mostly healed, and almost ready to go back to Colorado as soon as the baby was born. Now I'm wondering if he'll still be recovering from another surgery and be able to help me at all. People also do this all the time. Have babies all by themselves. I should know, I worked in a military hospital and saw women come in every single day and deliver their babies while their husbands were deployed. At least he'll be here when I deliver. Why can't I be grateful for that?!

When will we catch a break? Win the lottery? Have something really good happen to us? This baby will be a blessing, I'm not discounting him. I know there are many people who cannot have children, and we are blessed in this sense. But, sitting here, 8 months pregnant, thinking about my husbands finger getting lobbed off, and thinking about the string of events we've gone through these past 3 months, only makes me wonder what could go wrong with the birth of our baby boy. I pray to God, nothing, but I just can't make myself believe that after all this.

Today is three months since he was injured. Didn't think this is where we'd be, that's for sure.

It's always been a flaw of mine that people can tell I'm pissed or genuinely don't want to be somewhere. I've never been able to fake emotions. It's going to be hard to put on a happy face today at this baby shower that everyone has made time for out of their busy schedules to come to. And all I will be able to think about is how my husband might loose another body part while I'm sitting there opening presents for a baby who still has no name because, quite honestly, it's the last thing on my list of priorities right now.

Case Study

There have been a couple specific things these past couple days that I've made a mental note to be sure to include in my blog. Let's see if I can remember all of them!

Yesterday, we went to the mall. Again. We have probably not been to a mall this frequently...ever. But, we know how to get there, and there are always multiple food choices. Ha.

(Side note: Ahhhhh the sound of machine guns and people dying on this wonderful video game.)

So, I may or may not have bribed him to go to the mall to get his new video game - Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3. It didn't take much convincing. And, shockingly, even though people were up at the mall standing in line at midnight to get this game, they still had them in stock. Then it was my turn. I've been so distressed about my engagement ring being a lost cause lately. No idea why it's bothering me so much. I haven't worn it since April anyway. But my wedding band is getting pretty small these days, so I've been wanting a little something to replace it while I'm fat. Hence my bribe to the mall. I got a little sapphire with diamonds on the side in white gold. It's different, which is what I wanted, so it was a success.

We went to Chick-fil-a of course, and the sad part is, the guy recognized us. We were probably there 3 days earlier and this guy was like "Dude, what happened to your fingers?" Jason still had his pins in. And they're behind the counter so they can't see his leg. So when he says "Uh, I stepped on a land mine" they are usually a little caught off guard. This time Bryan, The Milkshake Expert (it said that on his name tag) said "Looks like your fingers are healing a little huh bro" That's when we knew we might go to that Chick-fil-a too often. We're going to have to start rotating our locations.

While we were in the jewelry store, a man stopped and shook Jason's hand. Shook it like he meant it too. Dead lock in the eyes. He was so sincere, it was refreshing. Not just a "thanks for your service", it was more like "No really, you don't understand, we really appreciate what you do." It was nice.

On that note, Jason got his final two pins out of his middle finger yesterday. They'd been in for 12 weeks. The process was much less painful than the last two pins he had out, thank goodness. But, just because the pins came out doesn't mean his finger is healed, because it isn't. The doctor basically said "I just can't leave pins in you forever, so if it hasn't healed by now, there is a good chance it won't heal on its own." Grreat. In three weeks we go back, and he will put it under the fluoroscope (live x-ray) and move it. Sounds like a great idea huh. From what I understand, he wants to see if it will have healed any more on its own, and if it's moving as one piece or two separate, still broken, pieces. If it's the latter, a bone graft will be in his future. Ugh. And since I've wisend up to this whole grafting process, I asked about the take. "Well, there's always a chance it won't take as well." Sweet. So then what? "Amputation if it's painful and bothering him."

Needless to say, he's frustrated. He's upset that we're spending all this time healing the skin graft and then they may just have to cut right through it to bone graft, and if that doesn't work, they're just going to cut it off anyway! I'd be frustrated too. Although, at this point, I'm just trying to go with it. There's nothing we can do besides see how it plays out. And drink lots of milk. Of course, we're really hoping, and borderline praying, that it will start to form a bone callus on it's own over the course of these next three weeks so we won't even have to consider any of that other stuff.

At this point, he's flying with his recovery. Unlike a lot of the other guys. The only thing we're waiting for now, is for his leg to get to a more permanent size so he can get the permanent sockets, and to figure out what to do with this finger. Then we'll be on our way back to Colorado.

We thoroughly enjoy going to PT and OT in the morning. We usually are laughing the whole time. Except in PT when he's about to die from working out. There's an enlisted guy, who is pretty ripped, and Jason loves working out with him. He's a PT tech - if there are such titles - he usually kicks his ass every single morning. Then we go to OT with 'mean ass Joe' as Jason has affectionately named him. I usually have to keep him on task. Ha. I'm sure he'll be so excited when I leave. In fact, he was talking about transitioning Jason to more outpatient OT because he really doesn't need much guidance in it. Unlike some other guys who he can't even get to practice standing up. Joe's favorite 'therapy' is usually "Hey Searles, rearrange the weight bench for me. It will be good therapy." But really he's just trying to get him to do his work. But today was my favorite remark from Joe. We were looking at the x-rays taken of Jason's fingers yesterday. Joe was totally off on his landmarks of his fingers. I simply corrected him. "Don't you ever get tired of being right?!" he says to me. HA. Jason could've crawled in to a hole. He said, "Thanks a lot, Joe. Now you've done it." Our day at OT is pretty much a little bit of range of motion on his fingers, and the rest cracking jokes. It's a nice break.

The other day, MATC was really crowded because there were about 3 Physical Therapy students assigned to each guy in there. All with their notebooks in hand. I so remember those days. Not physical therapy per se, but same concept. When you carry the worksheet of questions in to the patients room because your professor wants to know the dumbest shit about them. They were actually from Shenandoah University, and a couple went to undergrad at JMU so I can't hate on them that much. But I was just thinking about their little case studies they'd have to write. "Patient JS, right trans tibial amputation, occasional phantom pains which pt states improves after a few minutes of walking with prosthetic...." Weird. We're like zoo animals. Or science experiments.

I don't know if I mentioned that Jason is in his second socket now. This is a good thing. His first one was way too big after all the shrinking. Total, he was in it for about a month. Now, it's sitting on the table. What will he make out of it?! Who knows. How many more will we collect?

We went to the Navy vs Troy game in Annapolis over the weekend. There was a Warrior Events group there who were overly accommodating. He drank his first beer(s) - which were all free. I only wish I could've indulged. He got to meet the superintendent of the Naval Academy and we 'watched' the game from up in some special area that had more free food and beer. It was pretty chilly, and Navy was stomping Troy, so we spent a lot of the game in the tent next to the heater, ha. Next weekend we're going on the marriage retreat to Ocean City, MD. We're trying to take advantage of all the activities offered while we're here, and we don't have a newborn. We are dying to take the Pentagon and White House tour, but obviously those fill up fast.

We're excited to go home for the weekend. Have a baby shower, and see lots of good friends. We are blessed to be this close to family and friends at a time like this. But we are so ready to go back to living our own life. It's a little scary going back with only one income. I really hope I can get back in to work part time.

Enough with the worrying.

Onward!

long winded

Phew.

This one may be long. Baby boy is rolling around doing summersaults I think...enjoying his lunch.

Mom and I went to Colorado this past weekend. It was probably one of the most productive weekends I have ever had! It felt so good. It's amazing how good being productive can feel. Especially when you've been in our situation, and almost everything is out of your control. It was nice to pretend to live in our home again, if only for the weekend. And let me say, I probably wouldn't have done half the things I did if my mom wasn't there. If there's on thing that I love about her the most, it's her ability to get things done. This is probably the same thing that annoys me the most. But this weekend, I was so thankful for it.

She cleaned out the fridge for me, like actually scrubbed it - which I don't think has been done since we moved in. We threw out a lot of food unfortunately. We swept, vacuumed, and mopped. She doused the giant ant hill in the back yard with gasoline trying to kill them...we'll see if they're back when we get back. I renewed Jason's registration. And I drove that *ahem* wonderful Jeep all weekend. We had to jump start it at first...I'm pretty good at that now too. I was even smart enough to back it in to the garage knowing that we won't be back there for a while, and we'll definitely have to jump it again. We took the flag and hose in, and put the outside furniture in to the garage. It does get rather windy out there. I hung the fall door decoration, and finally took down the July 4th one - ha. I bought more face stuff - which isn't sold everywhere, and since I know where they sell it in Colorado, I went ahead and got that. I picked up two birthday packages that got returned. I sent them two days before he was injured. They've been sitting at that post office for about 3 weeks apparently. It was a little disappointing opening up the packages I sent intending for him to open. I had forgotten what I sent. Lots of snacks. Great, more food to go bad. Yo-yo's, glow in the dark swords, parachute men, bouncy balls, a Happy Birthday banner, etc. So we had to redistribute all that stuff, and figure out what to do with it.

Mom says I was nesting. I Clorox wiped the blinds, the fridge handle, the doors, and the banister. Those things get SO dirty. There were dirty finger prints all up and down the doors for some reason. Ew. We changed the air filters. Something we've only done once since we've lived in that house. Oops. Apparently you're supposed to do that fairly frequently. They were pretty gross.

We rearranged the office, that was to be the nursery, so that when we finally do get back to Colorado, we won't have as much to do in there. We redistributed all the sheets that took up an entire dresser (I think we might have too many) because that will be his dresser/changing table. We moved the filing cabinets and all nursing books to the guest room for the time being. The books will be sent back to VA with my loving parents to collect dust in the basement. Eventually I will burn them. The desk needs to be taken apart and either sent home, or to the garage. I will hang my diplomas in our room on my side of the bed or in the hall way. We are getting his Purple Heart certificate framed for him for Christmas and that will hang either on his side of the bed or in the hall way as well. I hate hanging pictures. I can never do it right. And it just takes too much calculation. It's one of the special jobs I always save for my dad. Ha.

I had to get the security system fixed because one of the sensors wasn't connected. Mom was there when the guy came - they were supposed to charge us $111 just for the service call because apparently we don't have maintenance on the contract. I don't know what mom said, but I wouldn't put it past her to give a sob story. Either way, he didn't charge us, thank goodness. It was an easy fix apparently. So now the security system we've been paying for actually turns on when we're not there :)

I got my hair cut and colored. And after that expense, I decided I will only be allowed to color my hair every other time. But I probably won't get it cut or colored again while we're here, so by the time we get back to Colorado, it's going to be pretty gnarly. It's just such a pain finding a new hairdresser!

By the way, UPSing 4 boxes is not cheap. Just saying. We got Dad four rolls of quarters. He collects them. And we live near Denver, which means it's more likely that the quarters in Colorado have the little 'D' on them instead of the 'P' that he sees more commonly on the east coast. At least he's easy to please!

I went in to work and took care of a few things. I cleaned out my locker :( I figured I wouldn't hog it since I don't know how long I will be gone. Learned that not much has changed at work, so it doesn't make me miss it as much, but I do miss it. And the pay check of course. I'm at least keeping everything updated so that when I do go back, it won't be such a hassle. I do plan on going back. I'd love to go back part time. I just can't see myself working full time with a baby! I think I'll want to get out of the house eventually though, so I feel like part time is a good compromise - if they'll let me do it.

Anyway, it was a very successful weekend. I miss Colorado, I can't believe I'm actually saying that. When we got there, I hated it. It snowed in September and we only had summer clothes. We couldn't find any water to camp by besides a reservoir and you couldn't just drive in to the woods next to the river to find a place like we did at home. But, the snowboarding was awesome, and so were the summers. It is far from my beaches, and everyone knows how I love the beach, but it really is beautiful there, and so much less high strung. People aren't in a rush to get anywhere, and there is never any traffic. If there is, it's because of an accident or just bottlenecking - and even then it's only about 10 minutes of a delay. There's only one highway. The state is square, so you know if the mountains are on your left, you're going North. Easy as that. Not here. I can't even picture where I am on the map. The landscaping sucks, I'm not going to lie. No one likes paying a retarded water bill just because you have to water your grass twice a day to keep it green. I especially hate that our back yard is all dirt, and filled with red ants and burrs. It's not very dog friendly. Apparently she loves roaming around in the woods, and dad lets her. We don't have woods in Colorado. Just a fenced in dirt back yard with burrs. We're terrible dog parents. But, the dog parks in CO are to die for. There is only one in Fredericksburg, and apparently you can only go there if you are a resident. Sadie will be so excited to go back to Bear Creek, that's for sure! If we could move Colorado Springs to the East coast, it would be perfect :)

We were convinced we'd miss our connecting flight home, but thankfully we got in early, and didn't.

Jason and I returned to our normal routine. I totally did not want to get up the next morning and go with him to PT, but I thought, it's only fair.

He got casted again today, for a new socket. I think we calculated that tomorrow will be exactly one month since he's started walking. His leg is shrinking pretty fast, and apparently it will for the next 4 months. So who knows how many more of these we will have to go through. I worry that as his leg shrinks, the bone becomes more prominent. I don't want too much rubbing to happen or worse, having to go back to surgery to reshape the bone.

His progress really is amazing.

There is this other guy, we'll call him Red Beard, because that's the name Jason gave him before he learned his real name. He has a full grown beard, and the exact same injury as Jason minus the fingers, left leg and arm. At least that's all that's noticeable. So basically he just has the below the knee amputation. Anyway, Jason immediately assumed he was Special Forces because of the beard. And he put him on this pedestal. Because apparently, special forces guys are like Gods in the Army. The longer we've been here though, and have been watching people work out, including him, we've realized they are so not special. We actually learned he is in the Navy, and was EOD, but working with the Army Special Forces I think. So all the while Jason is thinking this guy is hardcore and he's striving to be better than him in PT, and he's no such thing. And the more we watch and listen and talk to him, the more we realize how not motivated he is. Or how much more motivated Jason is. Either one. Today he wasn't wearing his leg, just because he didn't feel like it. He uses crutches still and has a pretty good limp still too. Jason decided using the crutches and cane make you limp more because they're there. I mean, who am I though, criticizing like this. But I just think it's interesting, and extremely admirable that this whole time, he was looking up to this guy, and now we both realize how much more motivated my one and only is.

It hasn't even been three months. He's up and walking, without a cane or crutches, and not only that, but lunging, squatting, doing agility drills, and walking around all day on his leg like nothing is wrong. All the doctors are impressed. Let's hope that gets us out of here ASAP. I can't wait to get back to our life in our own house.

Speaking of that though, we were talking about it the other day. How weird will it be when we do finally go back. It's like we're in this little bubble here. In college kind of, at least the living situation. We live in a dorm, and get up and walk to his appointments every day, come back and eat at the dining hall, and then play Yahtzee or take a nap. Either college or a retirement community, take your pick. Ha.

I went to the maternity store, and he came out with a book, me with nothing. So cute. He really wanted this book called Don't Just Stand There. About what to do when I'm in labor, etc. I'm excited that he's trying to get in to this whole pregnancy thing. We're taking an infant care class tomorrow. I'm kind of excited about that. Something different for the week.

I've heard through the grapevine that some people think this blog is negative or depressing. I have to know that by putting my feelings out there for the world to see, that someone will have that opinion. And I'm trying to have the opinion that I just don't care what other people think. I'm not writing it for people to feel bad for me, I'm writing it so that we will have something to look back on, and share with our children about the path our life took so soon in our relationship. Jason doesn't read it anyway, he says "I'm going through it, why read about it?!" Which is understandable. One day he might read it, or not, either way, it doesn't matter.

That said, I think I've written enough for one post. I hope it's been more pleasurable reading this time around ;)

Jason's Perspective

Below is Jason's recollection of what happened when he stepped on that land mine. He never lost consciousness. He says it was just like any other day - he thought they would go out and safely find another land mine like they had been doing for the past weeks.

13August2011

Agrhandab River Valley near Kandahar, Afghanistan

I woke up at 0530 to get ready for the patrol that was at 0630. So at 0630, seven guys including myself of first squad and four Afghan Army guys left the gate with our two shitty cheap metal detectors. We got to our objective at about 0700 which was a trail surrounded by two walls and a canal in the center of the trail. If you wanted to picture it, it looks like a big dirt wall with a trail that goes by it, then there's a canal that goes by it for irrigation. On the other side of the canal, there's a trail with another wall on the end of it. So it's like two lanes of traffic separated by a median. So once we got on the trail we decided that it was time to start clearing the trail for any land mines that the Taliban so thoughtfully placed in order to hurt us. Once we started clearing, we started using our little techniques that work out well like once you get a high ping on the metal detector you start probing. Probing means getting on all fours with a fixed blade knife firmly with a gentle grip, stabbing the ground at a 45 degree angle, searching for anything solid other than dirt and rock. So we then got SGT Chaisson, my Alpha team leader, up front in the column with PVT Higgins. They approach a suspected hot spot for mines and decide to probe the area. At which point I stopped, since I was the third back in the column. I decide to probe also, in a small circle surrounding me. I don't find anything. I stand up, waiting for the column to resume moving forward. We start to move forward, and as we move, I look back in order to see if the rest of the squad is moving with us. I pivot on my right foot. I hear a loud pop, but not loud enough to make your ears ring or make everything sound muffled. At the same time I was flying through the air. I didn't understand what was happening. I hit the ground, landing on my left shoulder and my helmet was wedged between a wall and tree trunk. My eyes were open the whole time and I remember seeing a thick cloud of dust. I didn't see anybody moving. I didn't understand what had happened. I started to realize a land mine had gone off, but I didn't think I was the one that stepped on it. I thought I was just next to someone when it had gone off. Then I started trying to move, and I started to feel a really intense burning all over my body. It had a very distinct smell, and I will never forget it. I tried to roll over on to my back, and once I did that I saw SGT Chaisson crawling towards me. I sat up to see what was going on, and that's when I saw my right leg for the first time. All I could see was an obvious slack in my pants, couldn't see my boot, and a little bit of blood. I looked at my left hand and saw blood running down the back of it. And I noticed I couldn't really open my left eye. That's when it really started to hurt, because I finally understood what was happening. And then I started screaming. A lot. At first I was screaming very hysterically "I don't want to die!" then I started screaming "I need my wife!" or "I need my mom!" I was wondering "what will I do now? I have a baby coming." I was a blubbering heap of crying. At that point, Doc Beyersdorf also crawled to me as well as PVT Higgins. SGT Chaisson put a tourniquet on my right remaining leg. And that's when I saw LT Kunkel standing over me, I said "It's alright sir, everything will be fine." I also told PVT Higgins, "It's not your fault, you're doing a really good job, keep it up and find the rest of these mines." Then the morphine came. The pain dulled out, but not totally, I could still feel it. Every other minute or so I'd find myself screaming and then calming down again. Chaisson, Higgins, and I don't know who else lifted me over a wall and put me in a clearing of the surrounding orchard. I heard the helicopter coming. They loaded me in to the helicopter and I remember the helicopter blowing dirt and leaves in to my face. It seemed like it lifted off but my legs were still hanging still half way out. The flight medics pulled me in. When I was laying in the helicopter, I looked straight up, and saw a guy with a flight helmet and black tinted visor looking at me, and then I faded out.

The next time I woke up I was in a hospital bed in Kandahar City with a two star general and what seemed like fifty other field grade ranking officers pinning a purple heart on to my hospital gown. They all shook my hand and said I did a great job, and that my guys did a great job, and they would look forward to seeing me again when I'm better. I was in Kandahar for probably about a day and then I flew to Bagram Air Force Base which is in Afghanistan still. I don't remember being there at all. Then I flew to Landsthul, Germany. That was the first time I was really coherent. They were giving me clothes and all the Red Cross volunteers were trying to force gift certificates down my throat. I was only there for about a day I think. Then they stuck me on a Stratotanker which is a giant refueling airplane. So they crammed 16 of us in to this small cargo compartment. When we were flying it felt like it was 112 degrees, and I was in tons of pain. They would only give me 2mg of Morphine which for a 200lb man, does nothing. Finally landed in America at Andrews Air Force Base. Where I was loaded on to an 8 passenger ambulance and was taken to the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda. One of the first to go directly there instead of to Walter Reed. When I was unloaded from the ambulance I looked around and saw my dad and my brother, they saw me and touched the bed, and I saw my brother who was in a 'semi cry'. They were probably expecting a bloody mess. I only saw them for a couple of minutes and then I was wheeled off to my room to get x-rays and labs.

This would be the beginning of a very long road to recovery.

homemade cupcakes are better

This weekend we didn't do too much. We went to the National Museum of American History and only made it through about half of it before we were both tired and no longer interested. He walked the whole time, without his cane. He said his left leg was more tired than his right, probably from the compensating. But, we took the metro in to DC and back, so that was an adventure in itself. I was uncharacteristically calm that day which I decided was how I would always have to be if we ever took kids on the metro or to a big city with all the hustle and bustle. It's much more relaxing when you're not in a rush and don't have a time frame to go by. Or maybe I should just always be like that.

Yesterday my parents came up. That usually always stresses me out. Nothing like a mother to push all your buttons at the same time, and immediately after arriving. I think only mothers are capable of that. I love her dearly, though. Jason often has to remind me "She's just trying to help..." We went to downtown Bethesda and found a Barnes & Noble. A childbirth book was recommended to me by a friend, and I was on a mission. We spent the whole time in the kids section and Jason bought a Halloween book for baby boy. I think it looks a little scary, but mom says it's OK because it won the Caldecott medal so it must be good. Ha. I got my nephew a couple books and a lego game thing - he's turning 8. I really doubt eight year olds enjoy getting books for their birthdays, but they have so. many. toys. This was a three story B&N...I could've been in there for a long time. Then we walked down the street and found a satellite location of Georgetown Cupcake which was featured on the TLC show DC Cupcake. We paid $15 for 6 cupcakes and saved them for dessert. We found a trendy restaurant that didn't look too terribly formal or expensive, and tried it for dinner. Not impressive. Just OK. And then came back "home" to eat our cupcakes. My dad stayed behind because he hates shopping and didn't want to come with us. We were not impressed with the cupcakes either. But, I guess we had our famous experience.

Back to the daily grind today. I did not want to get out of bed this morning. I randomly wake up and cannot fall back asleep these days. This morning it was at 0430. I browsed Facebook and played Words with Friends. It felt like I had just fallen asleep and Jason's alarm went off. I always have to wake him up to turn it off. I never used to have to do this. But thankfully it was a relatively short day. Just meeting with his nurse case manager, PT, then OT. Tomorrow he has the same, plus wound care, minus the case manager. But he also signed up for an Army Marksmanship Unit training which is all day tomorrow and Wednesday. That should be interesting. He loves Top Shot, and apparently he always scores perfect at the ranges they do. I've never seen him in action. I would love to go shooting with him just for fun at a range though. I think they do those kind of trips here, but we haven't been able to go yet.

Baby is big. Well, not big enough, but much more noticeable. Last week we went to the doctor, and all is still well. Fluid looks good. She didn't measure my cervix again because she said they stop that after 28 weeks since baby is viable. So that was a little scary. But he was head down, and heartbeat was in the 140s. Now when I feel something hard up on the top of my uterus, I know it's his butt. I love watching him make my belly lopsided at night when I'm laying in bed. It's still crazy that there's a human growing in there. I don't know if it hasn't hit me yet or what, but I cannot commit to a name. Connor? Austin? Carter? Owen? Colin? Declan? Cooper? Just too many choices.

His nurse case manager was talking to him about convalescent leave today. Thirty days of 'freedom'. But not really, because he'll still have to go to appointments and such, they'll just arrange for him to go wherever he takes his con leave. Personally, I think this is silly. Why are you going to make someone take leave and then oh by the way you still have to go to all these appointments. That's not much of a vacation. He's like "Oh yeah, so you can go back to Colorado and all, since you have a house out there." Yeah, but all his friends are deployed, he's not sure if he'll be able to drive his car since it's a manual, and I'm going to be pretty pregnant by then, not sure if I can fly. So we go out to Colorado and go to appointments and sit at home? That's the same thing we do here. Or do we go "home" to KG/Bowling Green and have to divide our time between parents houses? That gets old. Or do we just stay here? So many choices. I asked if he could take it after the baby comes - but they said it's supposed to be a healing time for him, to rest after all his treatments. Understandable. We're thinking maybe he'll take it from middle of December to middle of January and then he'll have his paternity leave tacked on there as well. No clue what we'll do, though.

So many things still to do - apply for VA grant for his car, TSGLI, seating clinic for custom wheelchair that takes forever, etc. On the bright side, we're down to one finger bandage - the ring finger graft looks beautiful. It's just a matter of getting the range of motion back in that finger. He seems to think it will never happen. I think it will. One day. He did push ups today for the first time. He did about 10, and then wanted me to time him for two minutes to see if he could do 42. He then did about 15 and decided he was done. "Well, I wouldn't pass a PT test right now." Duh. No one expects you too! But that's a good goal, honey :)

He got a box today with some of the personal belongings we requested. Finally. The rest of his stuff is still in Kandahar because the Army hasn't signed their DHL contract yet or whatever. I emailed his RearD CO about getting at least his wallet back because it has is license and debit card and all. They ended up sending us his computer with the charger, digital camera, old cell phone and charger, iPod and charger, and wallet. Whoever packed that box went above and beyond, and he's very excited to have his music back. I have to say, over the two years he's been with this company I have not been impressed with his leadership, but the RearD and all the administrative people we've dealt with throughout this process have been absolutely fabulous. I only hope it stays that way as he transitions back to wherever he's going.

This song has probably been out for a while, but I caught the lyrics today. Now I'm buying it on iTunes.

"She got the call today

One out of the gray

And when the smoke cleared

It took her breath away

She said she didn't believe

It could happen to me

I guess, we're all one phone call away

From our knees

We're gonna get there soon..."

emotional

I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a bed sore on my ass after today. I've been in bed most of the day. Having a pity party. Moping. Whatever you'd like to call it.

Jason and I have not been ourselves lately, and it's starting to take its toll on both of us. This is hard. Everyone said it would be, we knew it would be, we've said ourselves that it would be. So why is it such a shocker that it's happening to us? I guess I thought that if we could make it through the first couple of months, while he was inpatient, then we could make it through anything. It seems to be quite the opposite. Which now, looking back, is rather obvious. Of course I would be more patient and loving in the beginning, of course I would want to be there for everything and help him with everything in his most incredible time of need. And then you get burnt out. Duh. They preach this crap in nursing school. Apparently I think I'm invisible.

Then, I had an escape. The Navy Lodge. It was a miserable escape, but it was away from the hospital. He didn't get an escape, and he's still trucking along. Now, we're together. Like married couples are supposed to be. We wake up together, and go to appointments together (but not mine because there is never enough time for him to be able to go to both), eat every meal together, and go to bed together, and wake up and do it all over again. Together. Therein lies the problem. At least that's what we both suspect.

We are reading Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. I think I'm from Mars sometimes though. It's a helpful book. But only when you read it and are reminded of how different the opposite sex things and feels. You then, quickly forget. Like when you're in the car driving off the beltway and getting all turned around because you came off a different exit than you went on - and when your husband used to always drive everywhere, and hates the way you drive, and mumbles directions so you can't hear or understand what he's saying ("go this way." thanks, because i know what way THIS way is!) - it just turns in to a blown out of proportion argument. Didn't there used to be a game show about newlyweds and communication? We probably wouldn't win that show. Just saying. But, it's just scary, to be here, in this situation with so many unknowns, a baby on the way, and then to be feeling like your marriage may not survive. Or are we just being too sensitive? Another one of both of our issues. Or do we have entirely too much time to think about it?

It's hard to go out and do things on my own. I literally have anxiety about leaving him alone. This is not good. He is not a child. I don't know if its a little underlying nervousness that he could have not come home at all, and so I'm scared to leave him at all now. I worry. I worry about his meds, making sure he takes them, making sure he gets to all of his appointments on time. Making sure his leg feels ok, he's not in pain, he eats enough protein and not too much salt. I don't want him to feel alone, or like I abandoned him because I can drive and he can't. Maybe the baby will take some of the focus off him, and I'm sure he will enjoy every minute of that.

But what about us? Where do we go from here? It seems like we have this argument or discussion over and over again. When does it get solved?

For the past 3 weeks we have been on a hunt for a freaking compression sock. You would think in this giant medical facility everywhere would have them. This is not the case. One clinic sends us to another clinic who says "oh this clinic will definitely have them." That clinic calls the main distribution center (where we've already been) and as he's on the phone I tell him to ask for extra large because we've already been down there and they didn't have any. Yes, I understand if the main distribution place doesn't have them, why would anywhere else. But, how often do you give out XL compression socks? Someone has got to have them stocked somewhere. So he doesn't ask the question I ask him to ask, and I get so livid. Like 0-60 in 2 seconds. I just turn around and leave.

Earlier in the day, Jason overslept which is unlike him, but we are weaning off the narcotics and he woke up multiple times in the middle of the night in pain. He finally let me give him a short acting pill around 3am so he could sleep. We want the pills to go away, but we can't let the pain interrupt sleep. I don't know if that threw him off a little or what, but either way he woke up with about 20 minutes to spare. I was awake, and was planning to wake him up, but must have also fallen back asleep. So, I didn't have time to shower and get over there with him. I decided not to go to his first two appointments. They tell us NMA's we're supposed to go to every appointment with them, but it's just becoming too much, and too smothering. All I do at PT and OT is sit there with him and play legos or walk laps. I'm not saying I'll never go back, but I don't think I need to go with him every morning. Anyway, I meet him over there at 11 for his hand appointment - hoping to get the final 2 pins out of his finger. No such luck, bone is healing, but slowly, want to wait until the skin graft heals more before pulling on the finger to get the pins out. Fine by us. Still hoping they won't have to do a bone graft, but only time will tell. Wound care has been doing wonders for his fingers, and they look amazing in just the two short weeks we've been seeing them. He went from dead tissue and exposed tendon to beautiful healing granulation tissue. Exciting. Then we went to the counter where we spoke to the man who called about the compression sock - that's when I left. So, today I only made it about an hour with him before I got too pissed and irritated. I even prayed for patience today. It didn't work. I just went outside and sat. And when he didn't follow me, I went back to the room where none of our keys work and had to get let in by someone. I've been here ever since. Moping.

I want to be pregnant and emotional. I want to be pissed without having to have a reason. I want to have a scowl on my face all day long just because I can. I'm tired of people asking if I'm okay because I "look tired". Sorry, I didn't pack my make up when I left Colorado over 2 months ago. And even if I did, you sure as hell wouldn't catch me putting it on every morning. And, thanks for reminding me that I look like shit on a daily basis.

I want us to go back to 2009, when we were still dating, or engaged, and our biggest problem was getting the Army to move all my crap to Colorado even though we weren't married. When we laughed all the time, and actually liked being around each other instead of walking on eggshells every waking moment. When we had something to talk about, and we had our own place, and our own friends. We had our own life. Now we don't.

i wish i wish i wish i want i want i want - it's all I ever seem to do anymore, and I should have learned to appreciate the small things by now. What in the world is wrong with me?!