August 11th
Breathless
     Have you ever had the breath knocked out of you? Thats a phrase I have heard throughout my life but never fully understood, until this week. I now know how it feels to be breathless. I believe that most of the time you get the breath knocked out of you as a result of a fall. I am now wondering if you become breathless as a result of the acceleration of the fall or from the actual impact of your landing or "the crash". I feel as though I am presently falling and my breath is nowhere to be found, so as of now I will go with the previous theory that the rapid change in level is the cause of the actual loss of ability to breath. Either way, I need to breath.

     It was an eventful Wednesday in my life as it was the first day of the new school year. Earlier that morning Luke had started 8th grade and Macy 2nd. I had spent my day with a lot of mixed emotions. I was sad thinking of having less time with the kids and sad thinking about how quickly they are growing up, yet I was excited for the freshness of a new year. I love new beginnings and I also function much better with routines and schedules. I know, I'm boring and predictable. That's just me. Anyway, the day went well. The kids both were happy with their teachers and classes and such, all was well. Jeff had to work that evening so I decided to take the kids out to dinner for a treat. Macy chose Chick Fil A as she had a coupon for a free ice dream cone from there. On our way there Macy realized she had forgotten her coupon and I got a message from Mom inviting us to join them for dinner at Bellacinios. Quick change of plans. We had a nice dinner with Dad, Mom, and Momaw. All was well. All was normal...except Dad again wasn't feeling good. 

     Dad hadn't been feeling good for sometime now. He was having pain in his stomach and back for weeks if not months. He would complain, then assure us that he was fine. He called it air, indigestion, soreness from a hard days work. He called it everything, but ignored it as best he could and wanted us all to do that same. That day was different. Dad was contemplating going to the ER. Wait, what? My Dad don't go to the ER. My Dad just don't get sick. By the time we finished eating Dad assured us all that he was feeling just fine and was ready to head home. We all left for home. All was well.

     I got the kids home and started the nighttime routine, that I was trying to set into motion since this was the first night after school. I got a text from Mom saying that she was in the ER with Dad. She explained that they had gone to the store to get water and said that when she came out Dad was violently throwing up by the car and having unbearable pain. I felt comforted knowing that he was at the hospital finally. I felt a tiny bit of worry thinking that the worst prognosis could be a heart blockage. A heart attack would be terrible I thought, heart surgery would be a real bump in the road. I prayed that his heart would be fine. And it was, I guess. 

     I continued to text with Mom throughout the evening getting updates as to what they were checking and doing. I got some pics of him hooked up to the EKG machine looking all embarrassed. I guess they thought heart too, just as I did. Around 11 or 12 I got word from Mom that they were admitting him to watch his heart through the night and do some more testing tomorrow. I was relieved that they were taking this seriously. I rested some through the night.

     Thursday morning was rough getting the kiddos up. Macy was not feeling it. I had them all set up with breakfast and clothes and I took a quick minute to call mom and check on Dad. That's when my breathing stopped. That's when I fell. I've been falling ever since. Moms voice was different. It wasn't tired, or frustrated with being away from home. It wasn't a wondering voice,  worried about what the day would bring. It was a voice of defeat, a breathless voice. "They did a ct scan last night, your Dad has 7X8 cm  mass between his stomach and his pancreas and multiple small masses around the pancreas".  I had no words. I still have no words. I have no words because I have no breath. I now know the feeling of having the breath knocked out of you. It's out of me. I am breathless.