a crazy life, part 1
Monday, November 9, 2009 at 09:22PM Ba-boom!... Ba-boom!... Ba-boom!... My heart pounded as I ran down the hall to the garage to see who could possibly be lifting and dropping the garage doors like that, making that crashing noise. But when I got there, all three doors were closed and still. I could still hear it, Ba-boom!... Ba-boom!... Ba-boom!... I made my way back down the hallway and when I reached that part that opens to the bright, sunny living room, I felt like I had run into an invisible wall. I squeezed my eyes closed and dropped to my knees. The pain of the light was excruciating. As I tried to open my eyes and pull myself into wakefulness, I thought, No, please. Not today. I have too much to do today to have a migraine. And in that semi-wakened state, I realized that that crashing noise was my own heartbeat, violently forcing the blood through the vessels around my eyes and temple and brain. Ba-boom!... Ba-boom!... Ba-boom!...
I sat up slowly in my bed and let the pain settle. The increased sharpness of it told me that this originated in my sinuses, and for that I was grateful. That meant that with some Tylenol-laced pseudophed, a hot, steamy shower, and a little more sleep, I might conquer this foe before she became too strong for me. It was still dark, and the blue numbers on my clock told me that it was only 5:20. Good. Enough time to do battle.
I slipped back into bed with my wet head, and felt the warmth of his body. I just wanted to roll over next to him, and let the heat of him wrap itself all around me, but I knew with what was left of my foe, I needed to prop myself up to almost sitting and let my sinuses drain. It was part of the healing ritual. I glanced back at the clock, and then at yesterday's newspaper aglow on my night stand.
I smiled to myself as I remembered my hectic Thursday. Along with my regular mom-schedule of gym classes, dance classes and soccer practice and football practice, I spent the day setting up for our Spirit of Women {SOW} annual event, and the night {wo}manning a booth. SOW is part of a national marketing organization and is associated with a local hospital. Its mission is to improve the health of all women through fun, educational events. I serve on this advisory board with an amazing group of women... women of all ages and backgrounds and experiences. The event was a huge success, and in the end, a life was saved. An attendee had a massive heart-attack, but because she was surrounded by women who knew how to recognize the signs, she was in the ICU with her cardiologist within 26 minutes of first experiencing symptoms. I know that hers might not have been the only life saved that night. There were so many opportunities for women to learn about their health, and choices that they can make to better their quality of life. Life can be so much better when we are healthy. And as I drifted back to sleep, I thought, I should blog about that.
I reached over to touch him, but only felt the coolness of the sheets where he had slept. I looked left, and saw that he was gone, and just as I did, he kissed me on my right cheek and pulled the covers up over my shoulders and whispered in my ear, I'm sorry you have a headache. Go back to sleep. Love you. He turned and left our bedroom-letting me sleep late, because he's like that. And as I sunk down into my pillows, free from pain, I thought, I should blog about that.
Friday had been as crazy-busy as Thursday. After dropping the kids at school, I ran some home-made chicken tortilla soup {and all the fixins!} to a friend who had had surgery, and then headed straight to her dance school. She's dancing on a competitive dance team again, and part of that requires me to decorate her school for a haunted house fundraiser.
I left early from decorating to ride with a friend up into the mountains to hike the 5.6K trail that we would race the following weekend in the "Navy Seals Off-Road Challenge". No doubt it was here that my pain-provoking foe dropped her seeds of allergens on me. It was drizzling a bit, but it was beautiful up in the Smokys that day. I looked forward to doing this race with my husband and 14 year old son, and knew that I would blog on it some day.
We hurried home to get the kids from school and transport them to their respective activities. She would be at the haunted house for seven and a half hours that night, and my younger son was spending the night at his friend's. My freshman son had his first varsity football game, but we would miss it because we had a fundraiser for their school.
Around 8:30 that night, as we made our way through the silent auction {where one of my photo books sold for $165 - woo-hoo!}, my cell phone started buzzing with texts. He had recovered a fumble! I told my husband, He's so lucky! Where does he get that? There are players that play for four years and never have the opportunity to recover a fumble. He's put in in the last few minutes of the game, and the ball falls right in front of him. He's lucky, AND he works soooo hard. I thought, I should blog about that, but I already have. :)
...to be continued...
these days 
