Thursday, April 30, 2009

The pitty party's conclusion

In case you missed part one; here it is.

Mom and I arrived at the orthodontist's office a little early. We were greeted by an overly chipper woman who handed us some paperwork and directed us to the waiting room. Maybe she wasn't overly chipper and I was just in a bad mood at this point, whatever.

I filled out the same paperwork that I had completed five times in the last week at different offices, turned it back in and waited to be called back. This particular office was surprisingly swift and I only had to sit there for about ten minutes. I told my mom to just stay put this time. She had gone back with me at the oral surgeon, but I had known there would be a procedure and sometimes I don't always absorb what the doctor says in those situations. I was sure though, that this appointment wouldn't take long. I hadn't seen this doctor yet. He hadn't had a chance to survey my injuries so I thought he would pop something in to stabalize my jaw and then form a plan of how to proceed the next time I was in his office. After all, how could he do something with my teeth if the bones in my jaw still hadn't healed?

I was totally off the mark.

The woman who took me back and put me in my chair had no idea why I was there. She was clearly confused by my swollen & bandaged jaw, healing facial bruises and cast. So I had to tell her what was up. Telling the people in doctor's offices is really awful. I don't mind so much to tell others, but when I tell the women in the medical field they get this look of pity mingled with horror on their faces just before they tell me how awful they feel for me and offer words of encouragement. Don't get me wrong; I appreciate their kindness, but the pity that they have for me is sometimes too much. Especially since I've been trying hard not to go there in my own head.

She took a moment to process and then she looked at my teeth. She really didn't say a lot, but got up to get the orthodontist. He, of course, knew I was coming in, so he got right to work looking at the damage and my x-rays and forming a plan. He wanted to fix my teeth immediately. Meaning that not only was he going to stabilize my jaw that afternoon, but he was also going to put braces on my bottom teeth. That was a word I was not at all prepared to hear. I knew I was going to have to eventually have braces, but I never, ever thought that they would put them on before my bones had mended.

The first thing that popped into my head was how much pain I was going to be in. My mouth still hurt, despite all the Novocaine, from having the arch bars removed. I could not believe that he was going to put me through another procedure in the same day. I was torn between hatred and gratitude for this man. Gratitude because he was going to fix me. The one thing I wanted done most the night of the accident was to have my teeth back where they were and here I was two weeks later and they were still screwed up. So there was some relief there that I was finally going to get my biggest wish. But the hatred was fighting that feeling because I knew it was going to hurt, a lot.

Something you should know about me is that I have never had braces. My adult teeth came in perfectly other than a small over bite. This has been a source of pride for me ever since all my friends and even my brother were walking around with heads full of metal and all I had to worry about was brushing and flossing and taking regular visits to the dentist every six months. Having my teeth jumbled in this accident has been a serious blow to my ego, and then needing braces to fix the problem has been like pouring salt on the wound. Braces at twenty seven. Who would have ever thought?

I thought for a second laying in that chair that I might hyperventilate. Instead I started to cry. It took every ounce of energy I had left not to let myself be reduced to sobbing. Just a few small tears escaped the corner of my eyes before I made myself smile and say everything was fine. Internally I was fighting a war with myself. I hated everything about the situation I was in and all the" why me's" and "what if's" came flooding out of my psyche to the forefront of my consciousness.

They set to work. I had things shoved in my mouth to hold it open. It hurts to even smile right now with all the stitches still in there so at that point I was saying a silent thank you to the oral surgeon for all the Novocaine he'd injected into my gums. She had to clean my teeth and then the doctor came to glue on the braces. As a whole that process wasn't as awful as I'd anticipated. I'm sure the fact that my mouth was numb helped tremendously and after the whole thing was over the hygenist (dental assistant?) told me she'd never been that easy on anyone. They were not entirely oblivious to the pain that I might be in so they worked as swifly and lightly as they could. I was grateful for that. In the past I've met some dentists that are real bastards and just don't give a rat's ass if you were in pain. This man (nor the oral surgeon) worked off that train of thought. That definitley made the whole situation easier to manage.

I was beginning to wonder how he was going to fix my jaw. Were the braces also intended as a reinforcement for my broken bones? Nope, not at all.

After they got everything wired she sat me up and said we were going to go take some x-rays. Then we were going to put in the wire that was going to stabalize my jaw so it could heal. The orthodontist was hand crafting something. I couldn't decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but at the moment I didn't care because I wasn't laying down with other people's hands in my mouth.

When I got back to my chair they had let my mom come back which I was glad of. I'd known she'd been sitting out there the whole time in agony wondering what was going on. I might be twenty seven, but I'm still her baby. She gave me my medicine and we waited for my brace to be finished. Finally they were back with a wire much thicker than the one on my braces and with little pieces of metal saudered to it. The plan was to attach this thicker wire to my braces with thinner, more pliable wires, so that my teeth could move independently, but the bones in my jaw would still be imobile. I'm still not sure that it makes sense to me, but he's the orthodontist and I'm not.

This was clearly something that they didn't do often, if ever. How many people need to let their teeth move without causing further damage to their broken jaw? This was the orthodontist's brain child and he attmepted to relay the message to his assistant, but she was clearly nervous and unsure of what she was doing.

I laid back down and she attempted to follow his directions. I'm still wondering why he didn't just tie on the first wire so she could get the idea, but he didn't. It took her several tries to really grasp what she was doing and she was trying her hardests not to hurt me. I could tell she wanted to hurt him for throwing this in her lap and walking away. He did come back periodically to check her progress, but he really should have stayed with her for a bit. Tying on this one little wire took an hour. About half way through the Novocaine was totally gone and I was very close to going crazy. My internal battle was still raging in my head and it was on the verge of breaking out for everyone to see and hear.

Finally, God bless her, she perserveerd over her task and it was finished. I'm not sure which of us was more relieved. My positive attitude was completely gone. I had been in that chair for over three hours, and I needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. Which is exactly what Mom and I did after some discussion with the doctor and some more paperwork.

Once I got home I crashed. I was exhausted and I was in pain; the most pain I'd been in since I left the hospital.

Some good did come from the whole ordeal though. A lot of good actually. Within moments of having the braces on my teeth had changed, and they have been moving back into place more and more each day. You can tell a difference in their placement from sun up to sun down.

I also have been cleared to eat soft solids a soon as I'm comfortable chewing, which means my teeth have to move a little more because the displaced bottom teeth are currently blocking my top teeth and not letting my molars touch. That is a problem when you're trying to chew. But if they keep moving at this rate I'll be able to chew in no time. I did have a sweet potato for lunch today which is a huge step up from the "all liquids all the time" diet that I have been living off of.

These are all just baby steps to full recovery, but each step is worth celebrating.

You'll be glad to know that my pity party is over and my positive attitude has resurfaced. I'm sure that won't be the last bad day I have on this journey, but I'll take whatever kind of day I can get. I wake each day with the knowledge that being alive right now is a gift meant to be treasured.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Pitty party, table for one

Over the past two weeks it has been my philosophy that this is just something that happened to me. It wasn't a good thing, but I couldn't do anything to change the situation and being bitter about it wouldn't help me get well any faster. I've done my best to keep a positive attitude and I feel truly blessed that I came out of the accident alive along with everyone else involved. So much more could have happened and I feel like, in some ways, I've been given a second chance at living. Also, I couldn't let myself feel ungrateful for what I have been given when so many other people are suffering more than me. Sure, I sustained a lot of injuries and it could take a year or more for me to be my old self, but I have a huge network of people to support me through this process. I have so much to be thankful for.

For two weeks I've done my best to take it one day at a time and keep any negative thoughts at bay. To find whatever silver lining I could in my situation.

Until yesterday.

I knew going in that it was not going to be a pleasant day. Dental work is never something to look forward to. I kept telling myself it would be over soon and with each little hurdle I reminded myself that was one down and just a few more to go until I could go back home and rest.

When I was in the hospital and I was being poked and prodded and prepped for so many different procedures it helped to tell myself that it wasn't going to be that bad compared to what I had already endured. They were working to make me better. I'd already reached the height of my injuries and any injury I had to endure further was for my own good.

That mantra doesn't work so well anymore. With each new day I feel better. My pain is slowly ebbing away as my body heals itself. I'm forgetting the horror that was two weeks ago and it isn't so much a comfort when I know more pain is coming. Yesterday it didn't work at all.

My mother took me to my appointments because Andy gets really grumpy in doctor's offices and it stresses me out which doesn't help me if I'm feeling distressed anyway. So we left him at home with promises to call and update him.

When we got to the oral surgeon the receptionist told us that we might want to go find something to do for a while because they were that far behind already. Not a good sign. Then she checked her chart and it turned out the wait wasn't going to be so bad after all, so Mom and I hunkered down and entertained ourselves with fashion magazines. Finally it was time and they took us back. I think the practice of making patients wait in the exam room should be outlawed as a torture device. I spent a lot of time in that chair listening to the bad office music and sweating like a whore in church.

Finally it was time for the Novocaine which was not exactly pleasant, but I took with a smile because I didn't want to know what it felt like without medication. Then we waited some more while the Novocaine had time to work it's magic. Taking the arch bars out wasn't so horrible. It's like having heavy duty dental floss in your teeth. The doctor took out two then spent what felt like an unusual amount of time poking his fingers around in my mouth. The more he poked, the more I worried. Then he finally said that he needed to go call the orthodontist I was seeing later in the afternoon. The break in my jaw had not healed as much as he'd hopped and they had to decide who was going to re-stabilize it. Distressed at the thought of having the arch bars put back in; we waited some more. After several excruciating moments the doctor came back and told us that the orthodontist would be able to fix it. That wasn't exactly comforting because that still meant having wires put in my mouth, but I was promised that they would be easier to deal with.

I still had three arch bars that needed to be removed, so he went about his business. When he made it to the right side and started to pull I felt a pain that I didn't even feel the day of the accident. I thought he was pulling my teeth out. He stopped and asked if I needed more Novocaine, but I thought that was the extent of the pain so I declined. Then he went back to work and within seconds I was in tears. He was having none of that, bless him, so he injected me with more medication and waited. It didn't stop the pain entirely, but it did help. After just another couple of minutes it was over, but I was on the verge of a meltdown. My mouth has never hurt that much. All the old injuries hurt and new ones had presented themselves and were throbbing with abandon.

I collected my tears and said thank you to the medical personnel. The doctor had a few parting words of wisdom before he sent us on our way.

It was off to the orthodontist; where all my walls came crashing down.

To be continued...

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

You'll have to wait until Wednesday

My appointments were worse than I had anticipated. I'm in a lot of pain and I'm exhausted.

I'll gather myself and my thoughts for you tomorrow.

Have a lovely evening.

Monday, April 27, 2009

An update

You would think that having nothing to do but take pain medication and lay on the couch would be a very boring existence.

Not so.

I've had so many visitors and doctor's appointments I haven't even had time to read the new magazine Andy got me early last week. Not that I'm complaining. At least I'm not complaining about the visitors. I have loved seeing everyone and it means so much that people came by. It has certainly helped brighten my spirits.

The doctor's appointments on the other hand, have been really tiresome.

Last week I had four in three days.

Last Monday I had my stitches out of my chin which made me look a lot less like Frankenstein, so I was grateful for that. But I got very nervous before hand and the combination of that with the pain medication and just all around feeling bad I almost fainted before he took the stitches out. I managed to hold it together, but I was ready to go back home for sure.

Wednesday was the Oral surgeon to do x-rays and look at how my teeth and jaw are healing. He said things were looking good and made an appointment for me to come tomorrow morning and have the arch bars taken out that are holding the bones together. Then he's sending me to the orthodontist. I'm hoping they are just going to look at my teeth and develop a plan of action rather than actually putting on braces or anything tomorrow. I don't know if I can handle two medical procedures in one day.

Friday first I went to the orthopedist for x-rays of my ankle. Everything still looks good there and he still thinks surgery won't be necessary. So that's a blessing. Until that appointment I hadn't really been able to see the brake in my ankle. It is so, so small and it really frustrates me that I'm going to have to start all over with my running because of it. It also really sucks that the weather is perfect for running right now and I'm stuck here on my couch with a big heavy cast weighing me down.

My second appointment on Friday was another visit to the Ear, Nose and Throat doctor to take the cast off my nose and make sure it was healing well. I was nervous about that one too. Not so much because I thought it would hurt, but because I had no idea what my nose would look like. I knew it had been really bad based on the descriptions my doctor had given me in the hospital. My surgery had been very long and extensive and the scrub nurse almost passed out from the severity of my injuries. So I was more than a little afraid of not looking like me. I almost passed out again, twice. They had to lay me back in the chair and get me a soda. But really it wasn't so bad. Taking the cast off was only slightly painful and my nose is only a little swollen. The good news is that if I don't develop breathing problems I don't have to have more surgery to finish repairing my nose. The bad news is that because of the extent of my injury my doctor thinks it more likely than not that I'll have to have the surgery. But he wants to give me ample time to make that decision rather than push me into anything more painful than necessary. I'm really grateful for that.

I feel a little better every day and some days do a little more than I should. It's hard to be so dependent on other people and I've been taking baby steps to become as independent as possible. Andy told me last night that he thinks he knows what it's like to be a single parent now. I didn't really know how to respond to that. I see his point, but that just makes things more frustrating for me. He has a lot on his plate and I try to give him a little "me time" whenever I get the opportunity.

I have managed to get my shower routine down to a precise science so I can do it without assistance. That is a big deal for me. The most difficult thing is putting on my "cast condom" so I don't get the cast wet. It's a heavy plastic bag attached to a ring and this stretchy rubber seal. It's really cool, but it's hard to get on. Once I finally did it myself I would have done a little dance; if I could put any weight on my right leg.

Something I have tried my best to hang on to through all this is my sense of humor. I try to make the most of the situation and have a little fun with whatever I can. Whenever I have visitors I make them draw something on my cast. My only rule is that you have to actually draw something and not just sign your name. Anything is game (so long as it isn't obscene) and so far everyone has done a great job. The most unique illustration so far is when my step dad drew a bug on the bottom of my cast and wrote "ouch!" out next to it.

I also decided that my crutches needed a little something. I had tied a really pretty silk scarf to one of them, but it just wasn't enough so I had Andy take me to the craft section at Walmart last night to pick up something to jazz them up. I had one idea in mind and then I saw the packs of fabric scraps they have and I was inspired. I spent the better part of this afternoon covering my crutches in modpodge and fabric squares. I'm really pleased with how they turned out.

From color coordinated fabric scraps...
To one-of-a-kind designer crutches(click the picture to get a better view)

I guess I haven't been updating enough. This post is a lot longer than I intended. I'll be sure to update tomorrow after all my appointments. Or maybe Wednesday depending on how good or bad my day goes. Have a great night!

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Where I'd rather be today

Well good morning!

I just had my 6 am feeding. That is to say I just woke up with my 6 am alarm to take my medicine. I have to take a round every three hours. Doing this medicine routine became very annoying very quickly, but now I've worked out a system and no one has to get up in the middle of the night to help me, so I've learned to deal with it.

But usually at six I have trouble going back to sleep. It's that time of day were it's almost acceptable to be up and being productive. But I'm not very productive these days, so I just sit on the couch until sleepiness rushes back over me. Sometimes I go ahead and let the bunnies out at this time too. That is easier said than done as their cages are on the ground and my balance isn't so great on one foot and crutches don't bend, but I manage. Mostly because they start going crazy if they are locked up much past 7 and if I go back to sleep it's likely we won't wake up again until 9 and by that time they've tried to burrow to China in an effort to get out of their prisons. But this isn't why I'm blogging this morning.

I wanted to tell you about something; something and someone.

After Andy and I got married and moved onto our mountain I had very few friends. Not because it was a new place. I was very familiar with the area because we had attended college here, but everyone I had known had moved on. I'm the only one that came back. For a while it was a very lonely existence. Until one day I stumbled upon an internet discussion board for newlyweds. There were all sorts of boards I could join, but I latched on to the one set up for North Carolinians. It was nice having someone to talk to, and even though no one lived close to me they were for the most part a day trip away and knew what I was talking about when I referenced my town. Over time they have proven to be a wonderful group of women. We aren't just strangers who talk online, we're a family. We bicker and have our differences; some days are all out war. But we share our day-to-day lives together and care as much for one another as a friend that we see face to face.

It's a wonderful group of women that will go above and beyond the "call of duty" to show love and support for one another. And that is just what is happening today.

One of our fellows is going through a very rough time.

Amber and her husband are expecting their first child and upon reaching their twentieth week were given a devastating diagnosis for their daughter Megan Grace. She has a very rare form of dwarfism that will not allow her to grow and develop and ulitmately she will pass away. They don't know how long they will have with her, but have elected to cary Megan Grace to term.

I can't even begin to imagine what kind of emotional roller coaster they are on right now. My heart breaks for this familiy that so desperately wanted a child. Sometimes life seems so unfair. Amber has shown so much grace and strength during this difficult time. I admire her so for her fortitude.

Upon hearing of this heartbreak my friends banded together. They have planned multiple fundraisers and support events in honor of Megan Grace and her parents.

This morning in Charlotte there is a walk/run to raise money for a scholarship in Megan Grace's name.

After the accident one of the first things that came to my mind was that I wasn't going to be there today. It's something I have struggled with and tried to convince myself and Andy that we could drive down and I could just sit on the sidelines and cheer everyone on. Andy shot me down immediately and I even had to admit it wasn't a possibility when I nearly passed out from an extra long morning spent in doctor's offices.

So all day today I'll be thinking of my wonderful friends, and of Amber and her family. And I'm asking you to say a little prayer for them all today to. Or if you don't pray send some good "vibes" or juju or whatever it is you do. Just wish them well.

If you want to know more and possibly do something yourself you can go here to the blog my friends have set up to deliver information.

I hope you all have a wonderful Sunday.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

I needed a new toothbrush anyway

Until yesterday my mouth has been too swollen to brush my teeth. Getting something in my mouth bigger than a straw is a challenge, much less moving something around and trying not to snag the stitches. So yesterday, after my visit to the oral surgeon, Andy went and picked up a children's toothbrush for me to use. The tiny head is small enough to maneuver around my top teeth. My jaw and bottom teeth are still too sore to try, so I just rinse it with a special solution.

At least it's festive. Andy also came back with a Dora the Explorer toothbrush because it was purple, my favorite color. I opted for the pink lady bugs to start.

Don't you love my halloween t-shirt? I laughed when Andy brought it into the bathroom tonight and promised him that from now on I'd go in the bedroom with him to help pick out my clothes before the shower.


Compared to what Stephanie Nielson and her husband Christian have been through these last eight months, my personal trauma is inconsequential.

Read her, love her, and pray for her as she goes in for more surgery.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

One week

This time last week I was sitting in one hospital waiting to be transferred to another.

At least that's what I think was going on about now.

So much happened in one day, but I actually have a really acute memory of everything that went on. I even remember names of first responders, EMTs, nurses, doctors and other various medical professionals who I saw that day.

I remember feeling how messed up my bottom teeth were. I've never had braces and instant panic set in. My right ankle hurt, but I just assumed I had aggravated an old injury because the pain wasn't unbearable. It really only hurt when people touched it, and they touched it a lot. I think people assumed it was the only thing safe to touch. Turns out it was broken by the force of the floor board being pushed in.

My nose never hurt though they told me pretty much immediately that it was clearly broken. They didn't have to do an x-ray to tell me that. They also said I had a bad gash on my chin. They didn't tell me just how bad though; I'm not sure they knew. The skin was pulled away from my chin from the force of the impact. It did some sort of nerve damage and haven't been able to feel half of my chin and bottom lip since that afternoon. The doctor's aren't sure of the extent of the damage, but as I slowly feel things every day I think it's just badly bruised. At least I hope so.

More pains started to present themselves as my adrenaline wore off. My seat belt put several welts on my torso before it broke in two. My right side around my ribs was particularly painful so they did extensive x-rays. Nothing showed up, but for a couple of days they were afraid I'd injured my liver because my blood levels were off. Somehow, miraculously, I didn't have any internal organ damage, or a concussion despite the giant knot on my forehead.

I remember everyone being so kind. And I kept thanking them for being there. My inner southern belle came out and I responded to every new person with "nice to meet you" and to each question with a mam or sir tacked on at the end. Everyone kept telling me how sweet I was and I remember telling one nurse that really I wasn't. I told her I was usually pretty surly and that just the other day Andy had told me to call the cable company to complain about something because I was meaner than him.

I went into surgery early Wednesday morning and woke up the next day in ICU. Except I didn't know I was in ICU. All I knew was that my arms were tied down and I was intubated. I went in and out during this. I know I was PISSED off that I couldn't move my arms or talk. I finally communicated to my family that I wanted to write my thoughts to them. I found the paper later that I'd scrawled on and there were some things on there not at all congruent with my southern belle persona.

Finally they took my tube out and I was able to breathe. The next couple of days were filled with visits from family and friends, and of course the multiple doctors who had been assigned to me. No less than three specialists.

I spent two nights in ICU and one in a regular room before being released on Friday to go home. My mother was my driver and she was a nervous wreck. I think she would have rather paid a stranger to make that drive than have to do it herself and feel like she might damage me more.

Yet, somehow, amongst all this, the thing that haunts me most is the vision of the white car in my lane. As I heal and become more aware of everything that has gone on, that's the one thing that keeps me awake. I close my eyes to drift off to sleep and I see it, then I start awake gasping for breath the same way I did when I regained consciousness in my car. That was the only time I ever thought I was dying. Not being able to breathe was the single most scary thing that happened that day.

Then my lungs filled and I heard the sirens and voices around me. I opened my eyes and saw my hood crunched up in front of me and my steering wheel folded back from the force of my body. And I cried out for my car. I surveyed my injuries second, but my car was my first concern.

I still can't think about it's mangled appearance without crying.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Picking up the pieces

I've spent the better part of two days trying to figure out exactly what to tell you about my accident.

I could tell you about the pain, but I don't want to seem whiny and on the whole I'm so grateful that it isn't worse any pain I'm experiencing sort of pales in comparison.

I could tell you about the accident itself, but I don't really remember much. I saw a large white vehicle coming at me and the next thing I knew I was in my car, unable to breathe, trying to grasp what had just happened.

The whole thing has made me evaluate my life and how I live it. I know that's kind of a cliche statement, but until you face something that could have so swiftly taken everything from you it isn't something you understand. I'm not even sure I still understand it all.

I'm still processing.

Processing my injuries and how much time it will take to heal.

Processing that my car is gone. That's been hard to grasp. I've told you how much it meant to me, and though I know it's so much more trivial than what could have been, it's my reality right now. I loved it and for ten years it was a part of who I was.

Right now the thing that keeps me going most is knowing, definitely, that it is all going to be alright. There are so many people facing worse things and with so much more grace than me.

Eventually we'll settle back into the normal. It will be a new normal, but it will be a schedule and constancy is always comforting.

I am eternally grateful for everyone who has reached out. All the kind words and prayers sent up for me. I can never say thank you enough, and I hope in the future to be able to pay you all back in kind. Though under different circumstances because I could never wish this on anyone.

I'll keep you updated on my recovery of course and once I can remember everything I'll share some more details of the accident and days that followed. It's all kind of a blur right now.

Here is what's left of my car. It looks really rough, but I can say with a little pride that I think it won. The other car was about twice the size of mine, but of course it was newer and as such did not contain as much steel. I have images of it, but it isn't my property so I don't feel comfortable posting it for the world. You can clearly see where my car made it's impression and there is a lot more left of my front end. I know that's a silly thing to be proud of, but it helps me to know that even in the end my car was there for me.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Finally home from the hospital

I don't know who knows and who doesn't, but Tuesday I was involved in a serious car accident.

An elderly gentleman blacked out and hit me head on.

There is a lot more to the story and I plan on filling the blog world in. Just give me some time to get settled into my house again and try to get some semblance of a routine back in place.

Thank you to those who have expressed your concern and for all of your prayers. Andy and I are so grateful for everything.

Much love to you all.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009


This is what happens when you realize about five minutes before leaving for church that your chosen outfit goes best with a pair of your peep-toed shoes and you forgot to paint your ugly, unmanicured toes the night before.

I did, however, manage to achieve the desired results.


Are you wearing purple today?

Monday, April 13, 2009

Wear purple tomorrow...

In honor of Madeline Alice Sphor.

Also, say a little prayer for Maddie's parents, Mike and Heather. Tomorrow is going to be hard.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Finding joy in sadness

Happy Easter everyone.

I'm writing to you today with a sad heart.

This past Tuesday, April 7th, a very special little girl passed away.

Mike and Heather Spohr had to say goodbye to their daughter Maddie.

You can read her story on Heather's blog.

It is never easy to say goodbye to someone you love; especially someone so young and with so much life left to live. My heart aches for the Spohrs as they deal with their grief and struggle to understand why this has happened.

This morning in church the minister talked about facing the inevitability of death in everyone's life. Death through loss, and how to face the reality of that loss and use it to help you better live your life.

My prayer is that Mike and Heather can face this loss and use the time they had with their sweet little girl to live the rest of their days in honor of her. In honor of her bright eyes and vibrant smile. In honor of all the love that they shared together as a family.

For Mike and Heather it will be a long road and they can use all the love and support people can give. If you want to contribute in some way to this family visit the For Maddie page to find out how.

The internet community never ceases to amaze me. Generosity is not dead and on this Easter day that fills my heart with joy.

Monday, April 6, 2009

The incredible shrinking man

It's almost eleven at night and Andy just started making homemade waffles because he decided he was hungry.

You know those commercials with the cartoon woman who gives up soda for water and her cartoon husband just switches to diet soda, and then she only drops like ten pounds and he shrinks by half?

Yeah, I'm married to that man. He's not a cartoon. He actually exists.

Andy will probably lose five pounds this week and I'll gain ten just by close proximity to these waffles.

At least I'm not having to make them, right? Silver lining.

**My stomach just growled. I'm going to bed.**

Friday, April 3, 2009

Birthday present

Traditional birthday daffodil's from
my Mamaw's garden
Silly faces in the car
Crooked self portrait

I have consumed a lot of chocolate today in the form of cake and pie (because I'm so special I get both).

It's been a fabulous birthday. Lot's of cards, phone calls, text messages and facebook messages. Thank you all.

My twenty seventh year is upon me.

I'm going to go to sleep now and dream about more chocolate.

Birthdays past

19th birthday? We look so young.
21st birthday
With my friend Stephanie.
We had a party at my parent's house.
Jenn and Shannon "sunbathing"
at my 21st birthday
22nd birthday
They made me stand up and had the
restaurant sing to me
25th birthday
Lunch with Mom and Mamaw
26th birthday
Andy made me a carrot cake