Pity Party for 1, Please!

So I haven't been blogging much lately. I apologize. I have been too busy sitting in the ECM ICU :( In fact, though it is 12:45 a.m. - yes, in the middle of the night - this is actually where I am blogging from. Thank goodness for my new laptop! Why would I be sitting in the ECM ICU??? Especially since visiting hours are over at 10pm?? Well, let me tell you...

Last Sunday evening my Mom, Landon, & I were sitting on the couch enjoying a great little movie on the TV while my husband, Josh, was outside putting up the Christmas lights. My Mom looked over at me and said, "I am going to go use the restroom." Okay, go right ahead. Well within 3 minutes of her walking into the hallway I heard from her bedroom, "LISA! Help! I fell!!" *This has happened before, but normally I hear her fall, so I yelled for my husband to come help me. As I rushed to the hallway to help her the sight was unreal, like that of a horror film. My Mom standing in the doorway of her bedroom, blood everywhere (and I am not exaggerating...I mean EVERYWHERE - carpet, door, walls, hardwood floors in the hall - everywhere!!) I panicked. I knew that I didn't hear her fall, but with so much blood I had no clue what was going on. Josh came to help. We got her into the restroom, sat her on the toilet, I ran outside to throw up (please remember, I am pregnant so any little thing gets to me!) and from there we had no choice but to call 911... (and Stanley Steamer to clean what mess Josh couldn't get up - bless his heart! He's the best! There's no way I could have done it) I also called my brother to come help me.

Once the ambulance got there, they put her on a stretcher and headed toward the hospital, and it seems like that has literally been my life for almost a week now. Every day is a new day, with some of them filled with progress, but most of them filled with problems. My Mom has had to have 14 units of blood transfused so far. She ended up having a serious case of diverticulitis spread throughout her colon, so once the doctors decided that it would not heal itself (as if can in some cases) they had to go in for surgery. Since then it has been a rat race.

*In case you were wondering, my Mom never did fall. We figure that she lost control of her bowels (which is where the blood came from), saw all of the blood and just thought that she fell.

They did end up doing surgery on her. It was very successful. The doctor had to take out a lot of her colon, so she must now wear a colostomy bag on the outside of her stomach - no fun, but we can manage, that is if I can keep her in her hospital bed long enough to get better!!

My Mom does not do well with some medications, specifically codeine's and other sedatives. She has a problem with hallucinating and becoming mean, ripping out IV's, and trying to leave. So, I knew at times she could get a little squirley...and I was right...and yes I did tell the nurses and doctors this! Before surgery even happened she managed to "go nuts" one night after visiting hours and pull out her pic line - which is a large, central IV with 3 ports running off of it. It's great because they can give her all of her meds, draw blood, transfuse blood, or anything else without having to stick her again, but she successfully yanked it out, making this entire process more difficult. ICU called me in the middle of the night so that I could give them permission to sedate her, and to restrain her if necessary. She also has been talking out of her head, thinking that she is in a gift shop, and some times she is in the Sears Department store shopping. She insists that she has no money because she has lost her purse, so I must pay for it all, but promises she will pay me back. She's been buying up everything lately! At times she will be become irate, thinking that the nurses are out to get her. In fact that is why I am here right now. The nurse called because though they had given her all of the sedation medication that the doctor is allowing, she still was trying to get out of bed because, "THEY ARE TRYING TO KILL ME!!!" Or at least that is what she told me when I walked in. It makes me really sad, not necessarily because she is having a reaction because bless her heart, she cant help it! But mainly because I feel so alone, and I hate to see her acting this way, cursing (which she rarely does) and being so mean to the innocent nurses when they are just trying to help her. One thing is for sure, I could NOT do their job! Yes I have a brother, a sister, and a wonderful Aunt who do all that they can, but since Mom gave me Power of Attorney, I am "in charge" so I am the one that gets that phone call, who has to make that decision, and like in all families, I just can't make everyone happy! I usually prefer the role of peacemaker, not controversy creator!

And by golly, I am tired! Normally my house is 90% clean at all times. Right now I would probably be exaggerating if I said it was 15% clean. Sad. I am also tired I eating fast food. I want a nice, home cooked meal (which my wonderful friends and church family are graciously taking care of - thank you!) I am tired of running, running, running. I am ready to enjoy the upcoming Christmas holiday and tradition with Josh & Landon. We don't even have a tree up yet! Pitiful! I am tired of being so exhausted that I just want to sleep or rest instead of get in the floor and play trucks with my sweet boy. I am almost 14 weeks pregnant and I am fed up. I fear for this pregnancy. I must admit that I have googled on a daily basis what stress can do to a pregnancy. I have meltdowns every day. Josh, Landon, & I went to Chic-Fil-A the other morning to grab a biscuit for breakfast and I cried the entire way there and back. Why? Because I just kept thinking that Josh is going to get tired of this; tired of being Mommy to Landon - doing bath time, bedtime, feeding him, dealing with tantrums. Tired of never knowing whats for dinner - and always eating pizza. Tired of not spending time with me - because all I want to do it sleep or cry. Tired of having to be strong because I am a big mess.

I know this entire blog has already been a pity party for 1, but I can't help but think to myself, "I am 26 years old. It's my turn to raise my family, and enjoy this pregnancy, as it will probably be my last." I feel so selfish. I hate asking for help, and very rarely ever do...and probably still wont accept it. I don't know why. Pride? The fact that I consider myself a strong person and by letting people help me that makes me feel weak? I don't know.

What I do know is that I will be sleeping in a very, very uncomfortable chair tonight, listening to my Mom snore and talk to herself in her sleep. I doubt I will be doing much sleeping, but it's the thought that counts, right? Plus, it's hard to sleep with machines beeping, phones ringing, lights on, etc.