The Journey of Memory Loss

I was standing in the kitchen last night,
preparing veggies for burritos
we were having for dinner.
Something needed to be warmed up--
oh it was the tomato-basil tortillas--
and I pointed to IT--
the square, black box on the opposite counter--
"Put them in there", I pointed.
The name of the black box wasn't coming to my lips--
"a microwave"
"a microwave"
floated around my rolodex-brain
but I just couldn't grab ahold of it
and bring it to my mouth,
so I described and pointed for my son to follow
my directions.
He looked up at me,
and without a doubt,
tossed the tortillas in the microwave and hit
"Start".

I felt a pang in my body,
as I do often these days
when words run thru my brain
ricocheting around like a pinball machine.
The many tests I've gone thru have revealed nothing.
The Neurologist warned me that tests often fail
when it comes to memory-loss.
I do know what triggers my "blank moments"--
lack of sleep,
being over-tired,
pushing myself beyond the ten o'clock bedtime.
I tried to ignore the fact that
last weekend while I was at the Casual Bloggers Conference
I stayed up past 1am the first night
and 11:30pm the next--
getting less than 6 hours of sleep.
I thought I could sneak that time away
for me to visit and laugh with friends
and perhaps my brain wouldn't notice.
But it did.

Dani and the Golden child are staying with us
for the summer
while Mr. Idaho is way down in Texas doing
an internship with Conoco-Philips.
I got up with the baby night before last
six times
that's every two hours
because the baby isn't used to sleeping
at Granma's house.
I wondered if that would affect my health.
It does.
I hate that it does.

On Sunday night the phone rang.
It was my youngest brother, Keir
calling from Georgia.
"Ya sitting down?" he asked.
"What's going on? Where's Dad?" I replied.
"Well, I'm on my way to get him. We left Sally's car (Keir's gf) with Pops this morning
because he said he wanted to go to Walmart and get some sausage for breakfast.
We were headed out to the Lake with the kids, and planned on stopping back by to pick up Pops
on the way back for Abi's birthday party. So we told him how to get to the Walmart--it's just down the street from his place, and he never made it back.  We called the highway patrol in three counties, and all the hospitals.  We've been looking for him all day, since we got back from the Lake.  We just got a call a few minutes ago from a Police Department -- four hours away in Alabama.  Dad got lost and drove for four hours
and ran outta gas.  He left his cell phone at his house and spent his money at Walmart.  He was trying to sell cookies he'd bought at Walmart to a police man to get some gas money.  So they found Sally's registration in her car, and called her.  We're on our way to get Pops. And he is never driving again. Never."

I was more than emotional.  It was after 11pm in Georgia. Dad had to be worn-out and worried.
I told Keir to call me when they got Dad.
I said a prayer as soon as we hung up.
Monday, my Dad called.
"Hello Princess."--that's what he's called me since I was a child.
"Hey Daddy, how are you?"
His typical ages-old response of "If I was any better, I couldn't stand it" was not there.
"I got lost. Keir came and got me though. I'm okay.  I don't have a car anymore."
"Yes, I know. Was that scary for you? Were you worried?"
"No. I'm fine. The policeman was nice. Keir says he's gonna get me a car soon."
"Daddy, I was worried about you. I'm glad to hear you're okay. I don't think you need a car. If you need something, Keir will help, k?"
"Okay, Girl. Bye."
~~~
I called Keir. He filled me in on the details from the night before:
When he got to the Alabama Police Station, Dad was sleeping.
He'd messed himself. But was very happy to see Keir.
The officers told Keir that they'd had EMT's check Dad out
when they realized he was lost and had dementia.
They recommended Dad never drive again.
Keir is looking at putting Dad into an assisted-care facility.
Finally.
That's what I've been pulling for all along,
but Keir didn't think it was necessary.
Until he had to drive eight hours round-trip
to retrieve him.
How grateful I am that my little brother is there
for our dad.

So what affect is this on Me?
Besides that I'm worried about my Dad,
I know his journey is one I have a ticket on too--
 when I can't remember a word
or a name
or a place
a day
I know it's just the beginning
of a long, increasingly, dark
sunset.
And that freaks me out a little.
But, it's 8:19am on a Thursday
and it's a beautiful Colorado morning
the yahoos are up--
the Caboose is making herself a smoothie
with strawberries and spinach,
Boofus is talking to Baby G
whose ready for sometime with Granma.
No time to fret in this house.
Not today.

Gotta make hay while the sun shines...
I'm off to spend the first day of summer
with my yahoos...
and I'm not quitting until the sun goes down.

*p.s. don't forget to Enter the Giveaway

http://momza.blogspot.com/2010/05/artist-nathan-sharp-giveaway.html

Every Woman Has the Birth She Needs

See these shoes? These Nikes with their bright orange swoosh?  They started walking the halls of Exempla Lutheran Hospital at 8:10AM on Tuesday morning.  They walked from the car to the Labor & Delivery Floor, then they walked up and down the halls of said hospital, rode on the hospital elevator to the top floor and walked down all the flights of stairs to the bottom and did that again and again. These Nike's rock almost as much as their owner.


 
See this girl, this is my girl. And Mr. Idaho's girl. I have first dibs though. Neener neener.   Meet the owner of the Nike's with the bright orange swoosh.  This is before the nurse ruptured her membranes to bring on labor for a baby that was 10 days overdue.
She even did her hair and makeup--because, as she put it, "I knew Mom would be taking pictures for her blog."  I haveta admit, I did the same thing, only I forgot to be in any pictures. I looked fabli-ous, though, really. 
When the Admitting Nurse asked Dani, on a pain scale of 1-10, when would you like to receive pain medication, Dani replied, "ten".

  
After her membranes had been ruptured for 2 hours, the Midwife said they would have to start talking about pitocin. Dani said "No thanks. I just need more time."  So she walked, and she squatted, and she sat on the birth ball, and she walked some more. And then she took a warm bath that helped kick her into labor.

She is 7 cm dilated and still on her feet.  But things were getting more intense, so we put her back into the jacuzzi...where she stayed until she was 9 cm dilated. Then she had to get out. And THAT was miserable.  She was comfortable, and coping wonderfully, but this hospital doesn't do water births, so she had to get out. We got her onto the bed, where she kneeled on the edge to help the baby come down easier than on her back. Which, btw, she hated being on her back.  By midnight, she was exhausted.  We all were.

Now this is where my Mother heart is raw and tender. My prayers were constantly for her to have strength to finish this on her own terms. At one point, she said, "I can't do this. I can't do this."  The baby was taking a long time coming down, even after she was fully dilated. Dani continued her breathing rhythm, with Mr. Idaho applying counter-pressure on her hips, and Diana and me at her side, breathing with her, all of us in chorus, praising her efforts and strength.
"You can do this! you ARE doing this! you're amazing Dani!

We're right here. We're so proud of you. Almost done, almost done."

Rubbing her shoulders and arms, applying cool compresses on her neck, and warm compresses on her perineum for her comfort.

All of our actions/thoughts were for her comfort and support.

When she had been pushing about 30-45 minutes, she was in an upright position, leaning back on the bed--she was so tired, and again said,

"I can't do this."

Diana and I were at her feet, rubbing her legs constantly, and I said, "Dani, listen to me, I want you to say: "I CAN DO THIS. Now, say it with me, I can do this. I can do this"--she joined me, and that became her mantra thru several more waves of contractions as she brought the baby down.  Even with tears, she continued,"I can do this, I can do this..." and we all in chorus echoed her words back to her, "You can do this, You can do this!"
Mr. Idaho's eyes were teary, as he became one with his wife. He praised her, loved on her, held her, and was at her side and in her ear whispering every good and kind thing in his heart. When she cried, he cried. Her anguish was his. Her relief was his relief.  She leaned on him and he welcomed every bit of it. The bond that was forged in those hours will carry them thru many other trials, I do believe. He continually expressed his love for her and reassured her that she was 'doing great' and in the process of giving her strength, I do believe he increased his own.
I was in awe of my daughter, clearly, this was a large baby, and we knew that going into labor---we suspected between 8-9 pounds.  Which is alot for Dani's 5'5" frame. We gave her honey stix for energy and the midwife gave her oxygen for renewed energy--which totally helped!

When the baby's head finally crowned, Diana, who had been a quiet supporter, spoke up, "Dani, I can see the baby's head-- you're almost done!"

Dani said, "They've been saying that for hours!"

Diana, knowing her sister so well, said, "They lied. I'm not lying. You're almost done!"

And with just a few more strong, focused pushes,

 

Garrett Theodore Bradley came into this world.

Ten Pounds, 8 ounces.

Twenty-one and a quarter inches long!

 See this girl. She's not a girl anymore. She is an Amazing, Strong Mother.

There's a Midwife Mantra that says, "Every woman has the birth she needs."
I love witnessing women give birth--it is such an empowering experience...
 it was humbling and emotional and I am left in complete awe of my daughter's strength and determination.   Dani needed to have this baby on her own terms, and she did indeed have the birth she needed.  I have never been to a birth where the baby weighed over 10 and half pounds!  I don't even know anyone who has...Dani earns the Prize. A gold star. She wins!
What a grand day!  
The baby, the Golden Child, is the picture of Perfection--a clone of his beaming father and the pillar of pride for his beautiful Mother.  Of course, I have plans on loving the dickens outta him for all of eternity!
I'm still processing this birth, so I may have left off other details and may come back and add more as I feel, and some of this may be jittery and disconnected.  But here it is.  My real life in my House.

post dated add-ons:  From the time the midwife ruptured membranes 'til the onset of real labor: 6 hours.  From the time of onset of labor 'til the birth 9 1/2 hours.  

5 Weeks and Counting Down!

Spoke to Dani last night
we talked all things
Baby.
The nursery is ready to go
she says.
The crib linens are on
the bassinet is ready
to lay a little head down
into it's wonderful softness.

She is feeling the weight of
Golden Boy's head on her
pelvic floor--
do you remember that?
I let her know that's normal.
He's settling in for the
journey of birth.

I can't wait to see his little face.
I see so many new little faces
coming into this world
I oooh and ahhh over them,
and then I hand them back
to their mommies and daddies.
This one,
this little Golden Boy
I can keep.
I'll be there when he comes into
this wonderful world
and I'll hold him and smell him in
and smooch those soft cheeks
I won't have to give him back--
"Cept when he poops.
Then I'll hand him back.

Oh, this is going to be
Good.