When I signed into my blog this morning, there was a notification in big black letters saying that my last entry was created on May 6, 2010. There is a reason for the 3 month gap in my blogging. Twelve days after my last blog was created, my father suffered a massive stroke. My mama left for work at 6:00am on Tuesday, May 18, 2010. My daddy fell out of bed at approximately 6:30am that very same day. After hitting his head on the bedside table and struggling to reach the telephone and the clock radio, he lied on the floor for 12 hours, until mother came home from work and found him semi-conscious. She called me and my brother, Jonathan, and we were flying the friendly skies on Delta Airlines within 2 hours of her call. We met her at the Mobile airport at 11:00pm. It was surreal. It was scary. We were hopeful, but not delusional. The situation was NOT GOOD. His stroke "killed" 60%-70% of the left side of his Cerebellum, leaving him paralyzed on his right side and unable to swallow.
This began our "New Normal". Daddy stayed in the Neuro ICU for several days, until he was ready to go to Rehab to try to reclaim the use of the right side of his body, including his right vision and hearing. They also planned to work on his swallow mechanisms. He began Rehab Treatment on May 28th, 2010.
After 4 weeks of vigorous exercises and lots of love and attention, daddy was "ready" to go home. We left the Rehab Hospital, and mother drove daddy and me home on June 25, 2010. He went to a new bedroom that had a hospital bed, and we worked 'round the clock setting up protocols and instructions for the home healthcare workers and his friends who had graciously volunteered to help him when mother could not be there. Then, on June 27, 2010, daddy's heart began to fail. He was transported back to the hospital where he stayed until July 2, 2010. On that afternoon, we brought him home once again. We all repeated the scurrying to get everything in order for him, and I was buying his prescriptions at 9:00 that night. He was tired, and we were terrified. The very next night, July 3, we knew that something was happening again...he was moaning and struggling to breathe. His home healthcare nurse advised us to call the ambulance that Sunday, July 4. After a couple of days in the hospital this time, it was evident that there isn't much more that can be done for daddy. We signed DNR orders, turned off his internal defibrillator, and called Hospice. He went home by ambulance on July 7, 2010. He wants to be in his home with his family. He doesn't want any life sustaining medications, and he is ready to join his parents and his Saviour in Heaven.
Now, I am here writing my first blog since May 6, 2010. At that time, my girls were beginning their last month as 5th and 6th grade students. Today, they are preparing to begin their 6th and 7th grade years. Time does fly, and no, it is not always because one is having fun. However, our summer has been eye-opening for everyone in my family and many who are involved with our situation. It has taught me patience. It has taught me that there is no such thing as too many "I love you's", and that I should cherish every opportunity that I have to be with my family.
I have set up a caring bridge page for my father, and I invite readers to visit it. A more in depth story is there. www.caringbridge.org/visit/petekyser
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Below is the entry that I posted on CB yesterday:
The beginning of August always brings changes to our household. Family vacations are over, and we hit the ground running to collect uniforms, shoes, and school supplies. We make the obligatory trip to the pediatrician, the eye doctor, the orthodontist, and the hair dresser. We clean, we organize, and we retrain our bodies to go to bed at a decent hour. These things happen every August in millions of households containing school-aged children all over our country. It also happens in the homes and lives of millions of teachers, school administrators, pastors, and professors. For the past 31 Augusts, my mother's life has consisted of these events. On August 1, 2009, she was enamored by the children on her list. She lost sleep thinking about all of the wonderful things that they were going to learn together, and she and daddy went out to eat for their last "summer date" of the year. It was 11 days before their 42nd wedding anniversary, and if anyone asked her, she would have said that she loved her life...her husband, her family, her friends, her job...and that she was born to teach first and second graders. We have asked her to retire for several years, and she will not hear of it. She is a wife, a mother, a friend, an EDUCATOR.
On August 1, 2010, she seemed tired. When she talked about the impending week, she struggled between her longing to be there and her deep need to be with daddy. She knows that she has 110% support of her administration and faculty, and she knows that the parents of her students will understand when she is not at school or has to take an abbreviated day. She also knows that daddy won't be able to come meet her for lunch, or bring her cell phone to her, or take her out for a Mexican dinner on Friday nights. She is torn. She is broken. She is tired. Her 43rd wedding anniversary is in 11 days.
The irony in all of this is that regardless of her situation, she will be one of the best teachers her 1st and 2nd graders will ever have. She will hug them, and love them, and pray for them. She WILL TEACH THEM everything they are meant to learn from her, and more. She will do this from the strength that she finds from the Lord and the love and support that she shares with daddy. She may be broken, but her faith will help her put herself back together, and her students will NEVER see the brokenness. They will ONLY see the love and the light that she shines when she walks into their room.
I have run ragged since we arrived home from our family vacation. I have lain awake at night wondering how I am going to get everything done for the girls before Thursday's orientation. I have questioned decisions that we have made as parents. I have braced myself for Libba's Middle School Softball Try-Outs. I have gone to bed every night beside a perfectly healthy husband. I haven't had to meet with hospice nurses, hire sitters, spend nights in a separate bedroom with my Aunt sleeping in the guest room. I also haven't been able to call my daddy and talk to him about the latest Broadway show that is coming to Atlanta or ask him a question about the "check engine" light that came on in the van. I cry when the sky is clear because it is a beautiful day for flying. I hang the phone up too quickly if I call his house and his voice picks up on the answering service. I want to fly home, but I don't. I am torn. I am broken. I am tired. I just hope that I have half the faith that my mama does. "My help comes from the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth."
