Here it goes...

Tomorrow I have a video interview (my first!) at 10am.

With a college admissions coordinator in Israel.
I hopefully will find out if I have been accepted into a summer college programme.

Before I go off on premature plans, or more information, I will say this.


I am scared.
Terrified.
Anxious.
Filled with trepidation.

I am also hopeful.
Hopeful I have friends near and far who can help me with logistics.
Hopeful I might get in.
Hopeful I might begin to find the "me" that was given to "we" when I married.
Hopeful this might be a good change for who I am and have been.
Hopeful this might let me start walking again. Looking forward.
Hopeful I may again remember passions, and desire for learning.
Hopeful I could survive (short term) without my cats, my only Companions left.

Hopeful I can adapt to the potential change, the new-ness, the shuffle of my routine.

Hopeful I might make new friends.
Hopeful I may even meet another (young) widow.

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers tomorrow morning, if you would.

I am hopeful if everything can come together, this might be what I truly need to find life, and begin to see where my own will go.

I have not been able to think about my future for 4 years. It is daunting, but I am growing to see it can empower me.

Down the Rabbit Hole I Go!

Never have time

So, we managed to get out on a real proper date last night.

Hospice got us some tickets to the Symphony for this weekend- a violin concerto. Part of the agreement on my part of going out (most especially for a period of at least 3 hours for this) was that Wash uses his new wheelchair for this outing. And not bitch about being in the chair. (It's been causing some issues this week, more on that later)

To top that off Saturday morning I get a call from one of my really good friends from High School who knew the Conductor to the symphony- and she has made a call or two for us so we got to meet the Conductor before the performance! It was quite the experience. We also had our seats "upgraded" to the wheelchair area of the hall; it felt like the music was coming right at my ears, so lovely.

We ended up grabbing a couple sandwiches on the way home, and got to make use of the Light Rail's wheelchair access. We were out for just about 5 hours. Honestly, I think outside of spending the day at the hospital we have not been out of the house that long in maybe a year or more! Also, best as I can recall outside of our dinner out at Applebees, this would have been our first "date" since around April 2011. It was nice. We held hands for a large portion of the night.

I have also learned that his chair needs at least one pocket if not two and a cup holder for him. I also need to give myself a breathing treatment before I take him out in it up any hills. I do feel like I got my own exercise in last night. But, I think the point of the chair worked- we were out for 5 hours without him feeling tired, without him needing a nap, or to slow down for anything, he was able to be out and participate in society- the very thing it was designed for.

We've got a bit of a busy week coming up too, so it's a lot of pressure, but I am able to really feel hopeful over this time. As scared as I am, I have people around to at least offer me emotional support right now. I have needed, and I do need that.

Now we just need to have a small fund-drive to get some spare monies so Wash can "steam" up his chair.

-He's been talking to the Chaplain and Social Worker and they told me that it would be better for Wash to have me put the chair away as much as possible until he either got used to being in it or until he could really customize it to something he feels comfortable with and like it is his "own". My brother is willing to help him physically do some of the work (like painting the chair and helping to get a nice cover for the seat etc) - we're all trying to make this process easier for Wash. It's not an admittance that it is "the end", it is just about making full use of the tools, people, and programs that will give him a happier time at the end of his life.

I've been personally trying hard to cope with this, or to challenge myself to really identify what parts bother me so I don't hold feelings of negativity towards "Hospice" in general.

I have overall been encouraged and renewed by having Hospice in for this past week. It will take time for sure before I feel more rested, but right now I feel like I have someone in my corner to take over that fight when I can't, or when I have to put Wash first. I feel like they are allowing me to really put Wash first. Yes, emotionally it does hurt, but holding onto the good that they do and bring into our lives helps that pain.

Thank you all, Dear Readers, for your own words of encouragement and sharing your Hospice stories. They do help.

Survival

So Wash was admitted into the hospital today and thankfully I got to take him home.

We were there for about 4 ish hours; he had his tests and though he did not have a grand mal, he had some seizure/unusual brain activity.

They kept him for observation for a little while after his tests. He had to be taken out in a wheelchair though, afterwards his right side was quite weak with bad neuropathy. He managed to walk to our front door by leaning on me.

He fell asleep when we got home for about 3 solid hours. Our kitten Leto did not leave his side. When we came home he just snuggled up right next to Wash and stayed there; he is still just a few feet away right now. He loves Wash so much, it is really touching.

So, I take from this Wash will have his anti-seizure meds changed - we see his Neurologist next week. His right side has since equalized out mostly, so he feels almost back to his baseline.

At some point, I will have to cry. It's a lot of emotions for me to go through and process and there has not been much in the way to get me relief.

Everything stays the same, and changes at the same time.

-On top of that, we found out today Wash's hospital was robbed; their toy donations stolen. http://www.azcentral.com/news/articles/2011/11/30/20111130phoenix-hospital-toy-donations-stolen-worth.html

We try to donate as many toys as we can afford every year; sometimes only 2, sometimes more. I am ok if I don't get anything, but for the kids in the hospital- once you have spent at least half a month of your direct life living at the hospital, you understand every chance at a good day means a lifetime down there. A Christmas where each kid feels special and loved, magnify it by a million for the people who have to live there. They've lost 90% of the toys.

Even if you are a new or casual reader of my blog here, you know I ask for help for Wash. Well, I'm asking for a little help now too; Dear Reader if you were thinking of doing something for Wash this year, I thank you and encourage it (more on that in a later post). However, if you were going to help me in a personal way, I ask this instead. I'm not a material person, I have gone without before and can do it again. Please donate a toy at our hospital. I might be lucky enough to have decades of Christmasses again, these kids don't. Like Wash, this might be their last.

I'm running on about 5.5 hours of sleep right now. I need a good rest; I have my own doctor visit tomorrow.

Bright side; we have lovely friends who come to help- they bring dinner.