So, the week started out fairly normal. Then got interesting. Real quick.
Grab a cup of Joe and get comfy for this one folks...
First there was the announcement from Sharla that she was moving off to the lake about 30 miles from here.
Not that 30 miles is a big deal. But it's farther than we (the family) had anticipated.
Why do I care, you ask?
Well, for one, I like to keep an eye on my baby sister, if you haven't noticed. I'll feel especially compelled to do so now that she's going to be "on her own". And the fact is, she hasn't been "on her own", well... ever.
Oh sure, it'll be great spending the summer at her house on the lake. We're all really looking forward to that.
So again, what's the big deal, you ask?
Well, it has been suggested that my 15 (16 in May) year old daughter babysit overnights for her this summer while she's working at the hospital. Truth is, she'd be babysitting the next day as well, as Sharla would need to sleep.
Again, what's the big deal, you ask? Have you met my neice and nephew?
And it's on the lake. And in a neighborhood where they don't know anyone. And it's overnight, and possibly the next day (when the kids will ultimately want to swim all day). And 30 miles from us. And probably 45 minutes away from any 911 response.
Huh.
Even given all of those variables, I ask myself- If I were to go away for a night, would I feel comfortable leaving Logan to babysit Dawson alone all night here in my own home and neighborhood?
The answer is a resounding "No".
And so, I am put in a very precarious position here.
Sharla needs help. We as a family, always lean on each other. We always help each other out.
If I make the call on this that I am leaning towards, I automatically become labeled as too over-protective, too worrysome, too paranoid, too unwilling to help my family.
I become the bad guy.
Great.
So, I get a stomach bug this week. Wicked psyched about that.
Thank GAWD it seems to have passed. Although my guts still aren't quite right.
Upside is, I lost 4 pounds.
Hopefully they won't find their way back.
My den/bedroom and entire downstairs looks like a warzone.
I keep reminding myself it is a temporary inconvenience, all for the greater good.
When this is all said and done, I will have a second bathroom.
At least the crew provided me with some entertainment while I was down this week.
We got Logan a car. Another car.
About a month ago, I had bought her a 98 Saturn. It was all I could afford. I was all excited. I don't know why.
I look at the car and think- "Even I wouldn't be caught dead driving that car"...
She was very gracious.
And yet, she's been depressed for a month.
She was trying to conceal it, to not hurt my feelings. But she was embarassed by her "new car". She didn't tell her friends she got a car. She didn't take it driving every night to practice for her licensing test.
And still, she said nothing to me. But I knew.
Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking- When I was her age, I had a piece of shit car, and I was thankful to have a set of wheels. Most 16 year olds don't even HAVE a car... etc, etc, etc...
And yes, I get all that. I agree.
But damnit, Logan has been through a lot in her life, she's responsible, mature, a good student, and a goddamn good kid. She deserves it.
And we found ourselves in a position to be able to give her something better.
And the look on her face (as you can tell from the pictures), made it worth every penny and every gray hair acquired from the stress of it all.
We are all very happy.
Well, except for her Dad. Who claims (and I quote)- You only did this for your own convenience and your need to be the hero.
Whatever, Dickhead. :)
Yesterday we went to an appointment for Troy to have an echocardiogram and to see his cardiologist.
Normally, I would not discuss this, as it has been a very private issue for Troy for the last couple years of his life. Now that he has gained a fiance and an extended family, it has become less private. And since there is actually good news to report, it becomes facebook news for my friends. :) With his permission, of course. :)
We were preparing ourself for the worst yesterday, because Troy hasn't been feeling well for a few months now.
You see, Troy sufferes from "viral cardiomyopathy". Translated, heart disease brought on by a virus. In August of 2009, Troy suffered a heart attack while very, very sick with a virus.
The last time he saw his cardiologist, his heart function was so poor that they were discussing putting him on the national heart transplant waiting list.
It is said that the heart will improve within the first six months after a heart attack, and after that, that's all you get. But Troy's heart function has actually improved since the last time he was seen. Which shocked all of us (even Dr J, the cardiologist). The last time Troy saw Dr. J was in February of 2010 (bad boy, he's supposed to go every 6 months), and his heart function is now up about a 10-15% increase from this time last year!
His fluid retention level is not any worse (that's one of their main concerns with him, fluid in/around his heart), and his blood pressure and cholesterol are both normal. His meds are doing their job.
Next we will be going to Boston for a cardiac MRI, and a biopsy. Can you believe that? They can actually biopsy the heart.. how weird!
Depending on the results of the MRI and biopsy, we will re-visit the idea of putting in a defibrillator.
And so, it seems that love does actually heal a broken heart. :)
(Although, Sharla said- "Once they take out a peice of his heart, he'll be just like us.") :)
So yesterday there was definitely cause for celebration! We went to dinner, had a nice evening at home with candles... and then I fell asleep on him.
Doh!
Phew... What a frickin week.