Spring Broke (and I need fixing)

Who wants to spend Spring Break sick in bed? Well, I didn’t WANT to, but that is basically what I got. I am mentally fighting to kick whatever this is, but my body is just a little behind my mental determination on the get up and get moving.

Seriously, Monday was spent in bed. And if memory serves me right, the majority of Tuesday was as well. The exception being the 2 hours I went to get my hair done. I could not take the gray skunk stripe down the part of my hair any longer. By the time we were finished I had enough energy to drive home and collapse in my favorite place. Bed.

Wednesday was a bear. I had scheduled 4, yep, 4 doctors/dentist appointments. I thought it was a brilliant strategy to knock them all out in one trip to Fort Worth. Yeah right! The first one was at 8:30 and the second/third were scheduled for 9:30/10:00. If you have ever been to a general practitioners office, you know the mistake I just made. My mom works for the doctor, so as a rule I don’t have to sit in the waiting area very long. Nice perk. Mom came out to greet me and shortly after I was called back. I will never turn down VIP treatment. My deepest apologies to the man who shot daggers at me as I walked back. He had checked in ahead of me and made a comment about the amount of people waiting at 8:30 in the morning. The down side is that getting back to the room quickly doesn’t necessarily translate into seeing the doctor quickly. About 9:15, I am pulling out my phone to call the dentist to tell them we will be late to my 9:30 appt but that Hunter will be on time for his 10:00 cleaning. Wait. What? Both are at 9:30? That’s not what I had written down. Yikes. But luck was on my side. Mom walked by as I am on the phone and she tells me to go to the dentist and come back for the 2 shots and blood work. Because that is something you want to look forward to for an hour while the hygienist from hell is scraping on your teeth and ramming floss into your gums over and over. But you gotta do what you gotta do. So off we went and luck be a lady. The dentisit took care of my cleaning and Hunter had the nice hygienist. The only thing Cruella d’ Hygienist did was place the spit bib around my neck. Sweet. Wait. What? I have a cracked filling? It needs to be fixed? Can’t a chick catch a break? I made sure to schedule that little trip to Disney World for the beginning of April to give myself time to mentally prepare. Or dread it. Moving on. Headed back to doctors office to drop my drawers and donate some blood. That went really well. And the last appointment was Hunter’s. He is still experiencing break outs. Much to the chagrin of his dermatologist. Another month of Acutane. I think his confidence about Hunter being totally clear is starting to wane, but he is keeping a pretty good game face. Wednesday is a half day for Mom so we scheduled a lunch with her at the Olive Garden. I made up for not having an appetite Monday and Tuesday. Soup and salad and soup and salad and salad! Home to bed.

Thursday was Girl Day. I was a trooper. It was worth it. I am a major competitive clearance shopper. I love to get things on deep discount. I am talking the $4.97 racks at JCP. The 70% and more racks at Dillard’s. I will admit to having one label fetish. Ralph Lauren. I love his stuff. It’s clean. It’s classic. It will never go out of style. My favorite pink dress, pictured earlier on this blog, is a 70% off Ralph Lauren. Other than that dress, all of my Ralph Lauren Polo collection is from Marshalls. From the clearance aisle. It must be red tagged or I won’t buy. I found the perfect long sleeve cable knit red Polo sweater. Or maybe Juju found it and handed it to me. Either way, it went home with me. Love it. It’ll look great with the city shorts and great sandals that I found at Ross. Thursday was a success. Home to bed.

Friday was another day in town filled with appointments. Juju and I took Dad to get some stitches out and check on his healing. The report was good and he goes back Wednesday for hopefully more stitches coming out. That man is a trooper and my super-hero for how well he endures the pain. My nephew, Z-man, was scheduled to have surgery on his nose. He had a little incident in Winter Guard where he caught a pole with his face, not his hands. In between these two appointments, I was scheduled to video tape a testimonial about my time with Camp CommUNITY and MCA for the 30th/60th Anniversary of these two organizations. O-M-G. I am mortified. It was like instead of having a low red blood cell count I had a low brain cell count. I couldn’t put 2 coherent sentences together if my life and the life of my family depended on it. I know the poor camera man was thinking “and you people let her facilitate programs at your camp… she’s a teacher? Poor students.” Mortified. I promise you that come time for the Awards Dinner where this is supposed to be previewed, my segments will still be lying on the cutting room floor. And I am OK with that. 20 minutes after trying to get a take, I was drenched from head to toe in sweat. Can being low on red blood cells make you stupid? If so, let’s go with that. My lack of grasping the English language and answering questions about something I have been involved in for 25 years is from low red blood cells. That’s my story and I am sticking to it. I left the interview and went straight to the hospital where Z-man was out of surgery and had only a few minutes before being sent home. We get an update on his status Monday. Home to bed.

Saturday/Sunday. My family is starting to get hungry. The food supply in the house is dwindling. I have given official orders to Hubby and Boy that if they feel starvation coming on, get in a vehicle and go to town. Sustenance is 5 miles down the road. I am in bed.

Going back to work is starting to be a real concern. Can I even sit upright for 8 hours? Trust me, there will not be any roaming the room. Teaching will occur behind the desk or behind the podium. And as soon as that final bell rings. Home to bed. Wait. What? Someone has to go buy groceries? Pizza night. Tony’s delivers.

FOOTNOTE: Hubby has taken AMAZING care of me. He waited on me hand and foot the entire week. He did laundry, he spring cleaned, and made it totally possible for Boy to go and do all the things he wanted. I am a difficult person to live with to begin with (pipe down Too Tall, no need to post all the Amens running through your head right now. I admit my faults) and if you throw being sick on top of everything, I am more high-maintenance than usual. Hubby rocked it. He deserves a million gold stars.

Worship Closet (by way of Florida)

OK, before you go thinking that Amy Lou has finally flipped out from the stress; let me clarify the title of this blog. The point I am going to share at the end of this little ditty is my brainstorm about how a “worship closet” could be the answer to my “I don’t wanna go to church”. “By way of Florida” is just to let you know that I have a lot of stuff I want to say BEFORE getting there. (And D, we just might be going through Georgia to get to Florida- inside joke about my lack of geography skills when discussing the route we would be taking to Florida on a summer youth trip. I teach history not geography. Get over it. If only Hubby would let me forget.) Hang on and hang in there, I got things to say.

*Dad’s surgery was a success. If I wasn’t so squeamish I would have taken pics of each stage, but I only managed to snap a shot of his bandaged head. Therefore you won’t be seeing him looking like an Ooompa Loompa painted all orange after they prepped him. Good news…the doctor said he got the entire tumor. Of course this was in-between talking about his ranch and hunting hogs and Mom quizzing him on his political views. I was totally cracking up. I don’t think the doctor ever saw that coming. Not so good news… Dad now has a hole in his head. Juju is insistent that the hole in his head has had zero negative effects since she is still solid in her standing as favorite daughter. Yeah, yeah, whatever. He also sliced off some nose and felt it would come back basal cell, which is the least invasive skin cancer. Mark that in the good news category. The upside to this little operation is that he got a mini-forehead lift. They had to pinch his scalp together so tight on his right side that he lost some wrinkles and now looks like he is giving the raised eyebrow when he looks at you. Or it could just be me. I’ve gotten that look a lot in my 40 years. Mostly back in the 80s and the early 2000s. (Black sheep syndrome; youth and post divorce). The scar will probably look like a Z which the doctor said stands for Zorro. The same doctor cut on Juju and she has the same Z on the back of her neck. It must be his signature scar. Although Juju calls it her Harry Potter scar because it favors the lightning bolt or something. I don’t know Potter.

*After Dad’s surgery, Mom and I dropped him off at home and headed off to the Olive Garden for our favorite soups and salad. Before you get all judgmental about leaving Dad alone right after his surgery a) he was fine and the doctor said “no activity, just rest” and 2) he hates going out to eat. So Mom and I had a great lunch and some great conversation. I cherish our mom/daughter times. We had some chuckles about her sister, who is 91 and just moved in to an assisted living facility. Aunt Sena Bell is a social butterfly and has quickly made friends and been reacquainted with friends from the ol’ days. I can’t wait to go see her in her new pad. Mom also shared with me a blessing that she had received. It’s really cool when you hear about God doing His thing and it touches someone you know. I am not going to repeat the story here, it’s Mom’s to tell, but it was really awesome. I shared with Mom that my next blog was going to be titled “40 Sucks” and she very sweetly said, “Oh honey, don’t write something negative, be positive”. So you can thank her for the “Worship Closet” and the fact that you are not reading a list of all the ways I think 40 sucks! However, she didn’t get off quite as easy as you. I proceeded to explain to her why 40 sucks and in response she called my doctor’s office (which is where she works, convenient huh?) and made an apportionment for me on Wednesday. I already have 2 other doctor’s appointments that day so this makes it a trifecta. Here is what I envision going down Wednesday (after I tell the nice little dental hygienist to back the hell up with the floss because you are not going to make my gums bleed for days, ever again!) … I am going to tell my doc that I haven’t been able to shake the “winter blues” and I have absolutely no energy. I have insomnia, more than usual, and I can burst into tears at the drop of a well placed commercial for Nutrisystem. We are going to draw some blood, check the thyroid and such, and stick out my hip for a big ol’ B12 shot in the booty. I need a jump start with some energy and am betting the farm that this will work. If it doesn’t, brace yourself for a “40 Sucks” blog.

*Worship Closet. The big finale. What you have been waiting for. OK. At lunch Mom mentions again her concern about Hubby and I not having a church home and the connection to people that comes with it. I listened attentively, because that is what daughters do, but I didn’t jump in to defend my position. I totally understand her concern; I was raised in church. I know all the church-thingy’s that we are supposed to do. But I just can’t go there right now. After lunch with Mom, I had a meeting with some Camp CommUNITY friends and we began talking about relationships, which led to a conversation about faith. It was kinda like getting to Florida by way of Georgia and you don’t need the detour details. Sooooo, I shared with my friends that Hubby and I were no longer a part of a church family and that if I could find a church with an awesome worship service, I would love to go and then leave when the preaching started. It’s the songs, singing, praying through the music, which brings me the feeling of being close to God. It’s not a guy up front preaching AT me, berating me for my failures, etc… As I was considering our conversation on the drive home, the verse about prayer closets came to mind. Matthew 6:6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. So if this is what we should be doing in our prayer life, could I not do this in my worship; get up on Sunday morning, go into my “closet” and fire up my favorite worship play list on my iPod and worship. Taking that time each Sunday morning and earnestly seek Him through song and praise. I think I am on to something. I think I am going to try it. I will let you know how it goes.

Showers of Blessings and Mercy Drops

There shall be showers of blessing:
This is the promise of love;
There shall be seasons refreshing,
Sent from the Savior above.
Showers of blessing,
Showers of blessing we need:
Mercy-drops round us are falling,
But for the showers we plead.

Those verses come from a hymn that I can remember singing in church when I was a kid and I never understood what “mercy-drops” were. As an adult, I think “mercy-drops” are those little glimpses of light when the world seems dark around you.

It has been a while since I have blogged. I just haven’t had anything funny, snarky or worthy to post. In fact it has felt like a black cloud hanging around my head and to be honest, it hasn’t come from anything that affects me directly. First of all, I have a high school friend whose 19 year old son collapsed at his college gym while jogging. After spending 2 weeks in ICU, he has been moved to an acute care facility where he is slowly making progress. Can you imagine? A healthy 19 year old collapses and so many lives are changed forever in that instant. Today I spent the morning at a funeral for my co-worker/friend’s father who passed away from Lymphoma. He was 64. My Daddy is 70 and has been in remission from Lymphoma for 5 years. I can NOT imagine having to go through what my friend is experiencing right now. I am Daddy’s little girl. The black sheep. The one that keeps things interesting. But still his little girl. I am taking him next week to have some carcinoma removed from his head. He battles skin cancer on his head, face, and arms on a pretty regular basis. I don’t think they promoted sunscreen when he was out picking cotton, plowing soybean fields, or riding motorcycles in his youth. I love my Daddy and I want him here with me forever. (and I want my Mom forever too!)

I realized as I was trying to shake off the dark cloud, I have many blessings in my life. I should focus on those when there seems to be a lack of light. My family. I am so lucky that I have a family that is close and loves each other through thick and thin. I am blessed that my Mom still spoils us by serving Sunday Dinner at her house each week. I cherish those days and do not like to miss. It seems lately that we have been having the best conversations around that table. The grandkids are getting older and they have started joining in sharing insights about the world we live in. When I leave that table, I think “Good Times. Good Times.” I have an instant shopping partner with my sister and usually a movie and dinner date as well. That may not be a blessing to my wallet, but we always have a great time. Then there is the blessing of second chances. Hubby. Hubby spoils me rotten. He loves me, faults and all. He listens to me when I have had a bad day. He laughs with me. He cooks for me. And for himself when I am out with my shopping partner. He’s not afraid to have sandwiches for dinner. Twice a week. Blessings of family. They are priceless.

My friends. People have many different types of friends. I am no exception. Friends that I see on a regular basis. Friends that I work with. Childhood friends that I can pick up with where we left off when I run into them at Homecoming or at Walmart. Couple friends that we make dates with when we need a night on the town and adult conversation. And for me, I have a FF. Forever Friend. She’s 3 hours away, but if I ever needed her, she would be here in 2 hours 45 minutes. No questions asked. You might have an FF too. In fact, I hope you do. FF’s are the friends that know you. The core of you. They know the facts that you don’t want in your obituary and will make sure they don’t give you a Sally Field football helmet hairdo at your funeral (Steel Magnolia reference in case you are lost). I reached out to my FF this week begging her to tell me something great. I felt like each day this week I was getting darker and darker with the trials and tribulations of people around me. I needed to be lifted up. In true FF fashion, she immediately replied with a song. This is what she sent…

Take my hand and walk with me a while
Cause it seems your smile has left you
And don't give in, when you fall apart
And your broken heart has failed youI'll set a light up
On a hilltop
To show you my love
For this world to see
You can borrow mine
When your hope is gone
Borrow mine
When you can't go on
'Cause the world will not defeat you
When we're side by side
When your faith is hard to find
You can borrow mine
Take my love when all that you can see
Is the raging sea all around us
And don't give up 'cause I'm not letting go
And the God we know will not fail us
We'll lay it all down
As we call out
Sweet Savior help our unbelief
You can borrow mine
When your hope is gone
Borrow mine
When you can't go on
'Cause the world will not defeat you
When we're side by side
When your faith is hard to find
You can borrow mine
When you are weak
Unable to speak
You are not alone
The God who has saved us
Will never forsake us
He's coming to take us
Take us to our home
You can borrow mine
When your hope is gone
Borrow mine
When you can't go on
'Cause the world will not defeat you
When we're side by side
When your faith is hard to find
When your faith is hard to find
You can borrow mine
Take my hand
Take my love
Don't give in
Don't give up

I haven’t always been the best of friend to people in my life and I know that I have hurt people and wished a million times that I had a do-over. But I would like to think that if you needed a friend, I would be there for you.

Thanks to my Sister for sharing her date night with her youngest son and meeting me and Boy for dinner last night. Thanks to my FF for rescuing me with a song. These were my “mercy-drops” this week.