Hope Peeked in.....

Hope peeked in...
but then darkness
snatched it away.
The week
started out hard.
Getting disability
is so nerve-wracking.
And then we have this endless list of things to do that seems so daunting because,
‘When do we have time?’
It’s nothing anyone can help us with,
really.
Call lawyer about Carenow malpractice
Sign up for fall classes (Hannah)
Apply for fafsa (for Hannah)
Get the boys
back to school
in their day
Gas up Dads car,
Make appointment
with our primary doctor
for David.
Unpack everything
from the hospital
Clean house
Pay bills
Send Critical Care Form to Doctor so he can fill out his part in case we have electrical outage
Take puppy
and kitty
to vet
Take kids to dentist
before insurance stops
Take over bills
Cross my fingers
that I don’t have a flat because
I don’t have a spare.
We had to use the spare
to change a flat
and we need new tires
on my car.
However....
First priority being,
Take care of David.
This list is definitely not
in the order of importance, nor is it even complete,
by far, but I thought I would make a list
AND
update you
at the same time.
Now I have reference
to a list
when I sit down
and organize it.
The day started good,
in spite of the heavy
‘I’m not organized!’
hanging over my head.
David seems to be
gaining strength
and I told him,
‘Wow!  Look at you!
You are doing so good!
Hope in
maximum capacity!’ 
And we smiled
and high fived.
Now time to
organize
some of the other
chaos
as he is becoming
more and more independent.
Until yesterday...
He had a
pulmonary aspiration.
You know when you swallow wrong and try to say,’it went down the wrong pipe’ with a gravelly voice?
Well with ARDS it literally DOES go down the wrong pipe. He couldn’t breathe,
He clapped his hands for help; we were all in the kitchen. Most of us thought he was getting the dog’s attention because the little rascal was barking in another room.
Thank God one of us checked.
The smallest one of us. Jono.
Then we panicked
and frenzy overtook us all.
His gag reflux was overstimulated, at times he couldn’t breathe, and then barely to cough but not being able to.
He finally calmed down after about twenty minutes.
Just another residual functional capacity that we ‘discovered’
after which hope was once again snatched
from our grip.
Oh darkness, where is your light? 
It’s peaking through
this morning.
I’m a little skittish. Determined to not allow it to freeze me
from moving forward.
You know how you feel when there are
so many things to do
and you sit down;
frozen;
overstimulated;
forgetting entirely
‘just do one thing’
don’t think about
the million other things.
Just one thing at a time.
I AM
going to see
the bottom of my desk today
AND
unpack everything else that we accumulated
at the hospital.
And make my bed.
And brush my teeth.
And make myself pretty.
And breathe.
And hold on to hope
with white knuckles.
ARDS is no joke. Pneumonia cannot hold a candle to it. It is life long.
But my hope is that he comes to a place where none of us panic over every little thing.
Pulmonary aspiration can cause pneumonia and or death.
That’s where it gets tricky.
Adulting is not for sissies.
I have been slack in pictures.
(Add it to the list...)
But I will try to be better. You will see pictures
and be happy
and think
‘why is she worrying so much???’ Haha.
It’s just the nature of
our reality
at the moment.
But hope is once again moving around me. Determined to see
all the good.
And just
put my foot down
that WE WILL BE ABLE TO LEAP OVER THIS HURDLE with grace.
Who said he couldn’t
run a marathon????
I beg to differ, Doc. 
We ARE
running a marathon.
Our tennis shoes are on. You guys are
standing on the sidelines yelling cheer and courage; giving us drinks of water and wiping our brow.
Finish line...
no where in sight,
but I WILL
my thoughts
to see it
in my dreams.
XO
Shelli