Monday thoughts, and they're not all happy

Well, people keep telling me I need to document my experiences or that when this is all done that I need to write a book. I don't know. So much has happened that I don't know if I remember it all. I'm sure I don't. All I can tell you is that life has been tough.

Let's see if I can recount it all.

On Thanksgiving Day 2018, I got a call that my mom fell while transferring the turkey broth to the fridge. She hit her head and had at least two subdural hematomas. John and I went down to see her in the ER and to be with my dad who had been with her all day. They finally got her a room, so he went on home and we stayed for a short time. My mom seemed fine. She was answering questions and passing all of the neurological screenings. So, I tucked her feet in, left her cell phone charging on the bedside table and said goodbye. Little did I know that would be the last time I was able to converse with her being fully alert. They transferred her to the ICU that Saturday I guess. From there she would be back and forth from the ICU to step down and back to the ICU until finally having surgery and then slipping into a coma, transfer to hospice and then died on Dec. 6, 2018.

I don't know what happened besides losing my mother that day. But, I think something shifted in the spiritual realm. I haven't quite put my finger on it yet or fully understand, but I think my mom was a huge prayer warrior for her children, me. I think that this prayer coverage was stripped away when she died.

Following her death, I and my daughter went down to help my dad, only we ended up giving him the worst flu I've ever had in my life. It took a good month before I felt back to somewhat normal again, and I began crawling through life trying to regain normalcy and gain momentum on earning some money and raising my kids.

Then May happened, and my husband suddenly with no warning has a hemorrhagic stroke that would continue to alter our family and our lives. During his recovery, which is ongoing though he's regained most of who he was, thank God, my family felt the brunt of it and my youngest developed all sorts of stressful emotional issues.

We finally got my husband driving again and back to a normal routine when he had what they think may have been a seizure since seizure activity showed up on the eeg.

The first hit took out my mom
the second hit tried to take out my husband and my daughter
the third hit stripped us of confidence and hope

All of this has led up to today. Oh, and oh yeah, in the midst of it my dad developed double pneumonia and MRSA, so this has involved several trips down to help him be transferred from hospital to rehab to hospital to rehab again all gowning up in the hospital and leaving me exhausted.

I am now again my husband's chauffer.

Some people have volunteered to help drive, but they really have no idea what they are offering. And, it's not the driving that bothers me so much as the fact that no one seems to realize I am the one who is run under the steamroller through it all. No one really gets what this feels like. And, I don't know what I need or how to handle it all.

You'd think that at least I could get a chauffer hat and gloves out of the deal, maybe a button that say I'm the support crew, or I drove my husband to the hospital to save his life but all I got was a t-shirt.