Category: MINDSET
Protected: Hip Revision Chronicles Part 1. The Night My Titanium Hip Broke (warning graphic)
Protected: The Mandala Year
Mothers Day Without Mom
THIS POST WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN 2014.

Happy Mothers Day. Cards and gifts, flowers and celebration.
I miss my mom.
So it’s been kind of bittersweet. The joy of being a mother, coupled with the reality that I’m now one of the many who will not hear their mom’s voice on this day.
I have friends who are celebrating their first Mothers Day as a mom. I remember that feeling. I see the threads of love wrapping around them, creating a cocoon of safety and love for their child. As my mom did for me. As I did for my kids. Unconditional love.
No matter how old I get, when I’m down or feeling sick I want my mommy. I want to crawl into her lap so she can rock me. I want that feeling of love and security, of peace, that I always got when my mom wrapped her arms around me.
It used to be easy to capture that feeling. I could meet her, or go to her house, walk up to her and put my arms around her. There was never a hesitation, her arms wrapped me in love and acceptance without a word being spoken. I would take a deep breath of that special smell that was a combination of so many things, instantly recognizable.
It’s harder, but less complicated now to talk to my mom and get that hug. I have to dig deep into memories to recapture those feelings. But I don’t have to pick up a phone or get in the car. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and feel my mom’s love all through me. Because that is where my mom is now, a part of me, a part of my soul.
Twenty One Things I Learned After Shoulder Replacement Surgery
1. It really sucks to throw up after surgery. However, it is not so bad if you are still on pain meds.
2. When they tell you to bring a large shirt for after surgery they mean a LARGE shirt because that sucker has to go over a very large padded sling.
3. There is this thing called a “party ball” that is supposed to do a slow drip of pain meds directly into your system via a catheter inserted into your shoulder. It is supposed to last for 72 hours and slowly deflate. If it has not deflated after 48 hours it is not working. Therefore you missed the party.
4. Percocet is given with the warning that you must not combine with a Tylenol product. Percocet gives me a really bad headache. So bad that I couldn’t even think about my shoulder because my head hurt so much. When I called the nurse hotline I was told to take, you guessed it, Tylenol for the headache.
5. The nurse said day 3 and day 4 would be the worst because the “party ball” would be wearing off. Since the “party ball” never worked I spent time dreading a worst day that never occurred. The pain really wasn’t that bad and next time I’ll go on Tylenol much sooner.
6. It is very good to have a husband with a good sense of humor when it is time to get dressed or undressed when wearing a sling.
7. Do not EVEN consider putting on a sports bra.
8. It is physically impossible to put your hair in a pony tail when one of your arms cannot be raised above waist level. Getting your head down to the hand at waist level does not work.
9. Do not plan on going out in public if your husband has not had previous experience putting your hair in a pony tail.
10. Forget makeup. Forget blow drying your hair. For weeks.
11. If you put an onion or a potato on the blade of a chef knife and whack it, the vegetable will be cut in half.
12. Someone will have to cut your food for you at first. This is less embarrassing if you wear your sling in public as you are supposed to.
13. You are not supposed to lift ANYTHING . I DONT KNOW FOR HOW LONG BECAUSE THEY HAVE NOT LET ME IN ON THAT SECRET YET.
Do not try to go grocery shopping by yourself for several weeks. You may think you can lift those long packages of chicken breasts with one hand but you can’t.
14. You know those plastic bags in the produce department that you roll down and then tear apart? You can’t do that with one hand. So you roll all the way down to your waist and place the bag in your hand which is in a sling. Be ready fir some strange looks.
15. Do not take Percocet before your first physical therapy session if pain meds make you nauseated. You will spend the hour with a ice pack on your neck and worry more about throwing up in front of everyone than how much your shoulder hurts.
16. Having a shower large enough for two people is a good thing. Having a husband that will wash your hair for you while in the shower is a very good thing.
17. You are told to keep your elbow close to your side at all times if you do not have a sling on. If you have a sling on, your arm is already in this position. This means that you sweat. It is very very difficult to wash under your arms when one arm cannot be moved. Try it sometime.
18. Sleeping in a recliner is recommended. It keeps your head elevated. Being in a recliner discourages rolling over while wearing a sling and messing up your shoulder and experiencing excruciating pain. Being in a recliner by yourself can make you lonely and sad.
19. Having a husband that loves you enough to sleep with his head at the foot of the bed so that he can touch you while you are in the recliner is awesome. Having a husband that will get up several times in the middle of the night to pull the recliner lever so you can get up and go to the bathroom is priceless.
20. Think through every action before you start it. (See number 13). Making pies and then realizing it takes two hands to put them in and out of the oven was not one of my better moments.
21. If your husband does not cook, it is good to have friends that come stay with you and cook for you. Thank you Kira and Rita Sharkey for cooking and cleaning, driving me to PT in the snow and listening to me whine.
Three and a half weeks after surgery I can say that while not fun, this has not been as bad as I thought. Next surgery on the right shoulders is in three and a half weeks and the left will not be up to full speed by then.
Pray that Steve and I can keep our sense of humor.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM
AspensIt’s been a year. A year without your voice, a year without your laugh.
Those last months when your body was still with us but your mind was flitting between here and somewhere else were hard. The trip I made to Little Rock to see you was bittersweet. I’ll never forget the smile on your face when you saw me walk into your room. You instantly recognized me, which was such a relief. Then you started talking and I couldn’t follow. The next day you didn’t remember I had been there. In a way that was a relief, because I knew it was not causing you pain that I wasn’t there to see you every day. I still felt guilty, but not as much.
There were no more phone calls. You couldn’t figure out how to use the phone. If Michael or Tracey put the phone to your ear, all you were doing was parroting words. You couldn’t hear or understand me. That was so sad, but it prepared me for this year.
You may not physically be on this earth, but you are still with me.
Every time, and I mean every time, I walk through the house watching the sunset I think of you. I remember your joy in the vibrant colors and huge scope of our Colorado sunsets. I remember you sitting on the couch in the sun room, watching the birds, nodding off to sleep in the sun.
I drove to Cripple Creek a few weeks ago. I remembered you looking out the window, riveted by the colors of the aspens in the fall. I laughed about your gambling “addiction” and how adamant you were that you needed to try out the casinos in Cripple Creek. I regret not taking you more often.
I sit in the living room and remember us painting it together. I was on the ladder, you were doing the lower part of the walls. I never told you about going behind you to get the parts that you missed. Remember all the houses we have painted together?
I’m not as directionally challenged as you were. Frankly I don’t think it’s possible to be worse than you were and still operate in society. But when I get turned around and a little lost, you are there with me giggling. And the first thing I think is “you are just like your mother”.
I’ll always take that as a compliment.
I had friends over last night. They were sitting on your side of the counter while I cooked. We poured some wine for them and the memories flooded me yet again. I could see you sitting there, wine glass in hand, keeping me company while I cooked. I remember the laughter, the jokes, and the giggles. How fortunate I am to have had such a wacky mom.
So more people have heard about you Mom. More of your stories have been told. They don’t mean much to the people that hear them, I know that. But the telling is important to me. To Keely, Kat, David. It’s the way that we continue to include you in our lives.
I think I talk to you more now than I did that last year you were alive. On those long drives in the car going to Colorado Springs I tell you about what is going on in my life. I know you already know, but it helps to tell you. And of course I can carry on your part of the conversation because I know you so well. I can hear your voice “Well, Michelle….”
When I am alone in the house that is when I feel you close. I put on “your” music, Enya or Yanni, and as it floods through the air you are there. I cry. I miss my Mom. I want to hold your hand, hug you one more time.
I had the gift of time with you for many months while you stayed with us in Colorado. What a very precious gift that was. Keely got to spend a lot of time with her beloved Grandma.
You knew that I loved you. I knew that you loved me. In the end, that was really all that mattered.
So Mom, this is your birthday. It is one year and a few days since you left us. So listen to me as I sing Happy Birthday to you, and know that I love you very much.

