March 23, 2010 10-year Colonoscopy

Today I took my dad for his 10-year colonoscopy. I had to get up early. It has been a long time since my eyes have seen 5:30. I was so nervous about over-sleeping and making Dad miss that special appointment, that I dreamed I dropped him off at 7-11 and then went thrift store shopping and was an hour late picking him up for the hospital. He was waiting and waiting for me in the early morning darkness on the street outside of 7-11. I love going thrift store shopping-- but not at 5:30 in the morning-- and not when I am supposed to be taking Dad to the hospital for his colonoscopy. It was a nightmare that made 5:30 AM not seem so bad.

We left Mom convalescing in her bed with her walker near by and walked out the door into the early snowy morn. I took along a book and expected to finish it while I waited in the quiet, tidy lobby of the hospital. But Dad loves to talk. He talked to the cleaning lady who was the only person visible at 6:45 AM. He talked to the doctors and nurses who quickly and quietly padded by. He talked a lot to the lady at the registration desk when she finally made an appearance at 7:15. And he talked to the nurse as she guided us back to the prep room.

I stood outside the tiny curtained room as dad changed into his gown. His words paused briefly as he changed. I entered the room and felt my face flush at the sight of cheeks peeking out of the back of a gown.

Once on the gurney, Dad talked some more.

The doctor moseyed in after a call from the nurse and then Dad was peacefully sleeping as he rolled out to the procedure room.

I quickly pulled out a prepackaged muffin that was stashed in my purse and gobbled it down. I didn't want to offend Dad earlier by eating it in front of him after his 24 hour liquid diet and fast. I texted Mom and let her know what was going on. I pulled out my book and read ½ page—then after 18 minutes, Dad was back! Sleeping peacefully. But talking. I don't know how that was possible, but his eyes were closed and he was talking to me!

Then the bubbles started. Long strands of air bubbles came rumbling out of my dad. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop from laughing. My dad was never one to laugh about such things. It was just a natural part of life.

I remembered rumblings from a life time ago. My brothers and sisters and I would roll on the floor with laughter when we were kids and Mom would surprise us with a bazooka blast. She would die laughing too.

I remembered my own procedure last year when they put a scope down my throat into my stomach. I woke up belching and shocked at my inability to control myself. I told Dad that story as he was drifting off to sleep 19 minutes ago. He mused. Now he made a reference to his own air bubbles. I was surprised and impressed that he acknowledged them. We laughed.

Upon checkout Dad was warned not to use heavy equipment or drive a vehicle. I told him that would include his electric saw. He was disappointed.

I thought he would take it easy when we got home. I was wrong. He was back to his usual self—almost. He didn't use his power tools (that I saw).

It's an unusual and humbling experience taking care of your aging parents. I didn't expect to see it come so quickly. Two years and 3,000 miles ago, I wouldn't have been blessed enough to have been here to help. I'm grateful once again for the miracle that brought us here—even though it didn't seem much like a miracle then.

Love Is STILL In The Air

I witnessed the most incredible thing tonight.

I'm here in Utah taking care of my mom who underwent knee replacement surgery 10 days ago.

She is amazing. It's really difficult for her to be the patient. She has been waiting on her 9 children for a thousand years (it seems).

I'm lying on the bed next to her watching TV and she apologizes a hundred times for getting in my way as she turns this way and that way trying to get more comfortable. I unwind the tangled sheets from her legs and laugh and tell her it's easier for me to move around her.

She asks me in a dry cracked voice if I want some tea. I say that I do, and she tells me that she'll get it for me. I laugh imagining her balancing a tea cup on her walker, and tell her that I will get it. While I'm getting myself some tea, I get this brilliant idea to text her and ask her if she would like me to bring her some too. She texts me back and says, "that would be delightful, how about strawberry."

. . . the lessons of charity I have learned from my mother . . .

So earlier in the day, she hobbled--old person style-- to the living room with her walker; rolling the wheels and sliding the tennis balls along.

Dad was in and out of the room nursing is own ailment: shingles-- the news of which bringing Mom to tears just days before.

I was passing time sewing scripture bags at the dining room table.

Suze Orman was on TV deciding some one's financial fate: should a man spend $40,000 on a 10-year anniversary ring for his wife, or not?

Of course we were commenting. Dad asked if Mom would like a $40K ring. Mom scoffed and said Dad wouldn't get her a $100 ring.

{Mom's ring lost it's diamond many, many years ago. It has never been replaced}

Between snips of thread, I yell out, "Dad--you need to get your wife a new ring!"

Dad moseys out of the room as Mom and I continue to chatter about this $40K ring. Dad comes around into the kitchen to ask me about the rings with three diamonds. Oh! I tell him how much

I love those Past Present and Future rings.

Dad gets a far away look in his eye as he repeats, "Past, Present, Future."

The sewing machine is really humming now.

I look up and Dad is kneeling beside Mom.

He asks her if she would like a new ring and pulls out a box.

I jump up and run over there in awe and disbelief.

Dad pulls out this BE U Tiful 3 diamond, platinum, Past, Present, and Future ring!

He had been mighty illusive this morning when I asked him why he needed to go to Salt Lake. Being self absorbed, like I am, I assumed it was to buy my kids something for their birthdays.

It was amazingly, brilliantly baffling. I have never seem him so romantic before!

The timing couldn't have been more coincidental, yet it was as though time and space had aligned for this very moment!

.

It was a beautiful moment. One that I will treasure being a part of always.

Congratulations Mom and Dad on your Love enduring the Past, Present, and Future!

Important Accomplishments

As I sit thinking about my day, I find myself disappointed. I wonder where the day went and why I seem to have accomplished nothing.

The house is a wreck.

The dryer is dead again, so no Monday laundry got done.

I only got some of the bills paid

I forgot to drop off the Karate payment. Again.

Oh, and those phone calls I was really going to make today did not happen.

A lot of sweets made it into my mouth.

I didn't do a lick of exercise.

Wow.

I seem like a real failure today.

So what really could have taken up so much time?

My mind sifts back through the events of the day. . .

I took my teenage daughter to the doctor's office today. She was feeling especially vulnerable to motherly affection. I took advantage. I picked up some Chinese food and a couple of chick flicks along with her prescriptions.

At home, we bypassed the sink full of dishes and stepped over a pile of toys on the way to watch our movie.

We made ourselves sundaes and pigged out as we cried through the rest of our movie.

Later I remembered {ahead of time} that Connor was assigned the treat for Family Home Evening so I made a special trip to the grocery just for the {frivolous} ingredients.

We giggled as we made dirt pudding with gummy worms.

Hunter came home and begged me to play Life with him. Dang that game is long!

Mr. Moore came home humming his latest download. He wanted to share it with me, and we found ourselves dancing in the bedroom. {Who are these people} The kids soon joined us and we spun them around until they were dizzy.

Dinner was PB and Js.

FHE was fun time spent together, then we watched Castle with toys and messes strewn everywhere.

When I look back, I realize that I did work hard today. I worked on my most important job--my job as a mother.

Nothing is more important that that!

A Moore Typical Morning

Emily has been having migraines. Yesterday she was vomiting into a bucket as she rested in my bed. Then she ate in my bed when the migraine passed. I went to bed that night so tired that all I did was turn over my pillow and flop down anyway.

She is getting ready to become a woman. I became a woman two weeks before I turned 12. She will be 12 in three. It is emotional warfare in our house right now.

This morning, I complement Hunter on his very first phone message written for me in 8 year-old handwriting. Emily shoves her cereal away and starts crying and says she's not going to eat any more. She yells that I never tell her that she did a good job writing a message for me.

Emotional Warfare.

Hannah is hacking and feverish beside me on the couch. I forgo the rule of no eating cereal in the living room. She'll miss school today. She is hallucinating and is having trouble distinguishing between dreams and reality.

Alex went out to see the premier of Alice in Wonderland at midnight and got only 4 hours of sleep on a school night. It takes a bulldozer to get him off the couch and into the shower.

The boys get carried away and distracted from getting ready for school, and I find them playing Legos in their underwear for the third time, 10 minutes before the tardy bell.

James is searching high and low for his ipod which I just saw in his hand five minutes before. At least he has his keys. He attached a huge new garage door opener to them. He won't have a chance of misplacing those any time soon.

I wait for the chaos to end before I drag myself away from the morning news shows.

When the kids get home from school, they will do doubt find me in the exact same place as I take a breather from cleaning and sanitizing the entire house, laundry, running errands, and cleaning someone else's house. They may wonder if I did anything at all today.

Somehow they don't seem to notice the fresh, clean house as they crash through the door trailing backpacks, papers, boots, gloves, and shoes behind them. They will empty the entire contents of the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator onto the counters.

It's a typical day in the Moore house and I love every single minute of it.