All the things we should have said but we didn't

Friday, August 31, 2012
I'm writing a book.  A book based on my experiences.  Writing it takes me back to days gone by so this morning, I wrote another letter to someone I used to know.  I almost sent this one and then I thought better of it.  Maybe it's not fair to send it.  Maybe that time has come and gone.  Maybe if he wanted me to say such things, he'd have something to say to me, but those days are gone.  He can't or won't or just doesn’t have anything left to say.  Now there's nothing left between us except all the things we should have said but we didn't. I know we've both moved on and he knows I am in good hands now, but I so want to tell him that before I had my husband to take care of me, it was him who helped me get through the rough spots.  So, I wrote the following letter and like so many before this one - I didn't send it...

I just wrote a chapter on the day my grandmother died.  Writing it was rough.  I know you might be thinking, 'What does it have to do with me?'  What you don't know is that it has a lot to do with you.  I want to send you the chapter, but I won't do it to you because as hard as it was for me to write, I also I know it would be difficult for you to have to read.  Maybe one day you'll have a whole book to read - even if it never gets published (which I know is a long shot), I'll send it to you. 
I don't know if you know this or not (I don't think you do), but I was there when my grandmother died.  I was in the room.  I saw her take her last breath.  She didn't go quietly or peacefully or slowly.  It was as horrible of an experience as it could be.  I am scarred and damaged from it.  I am telling you this because you helped me through it.  That's what I wrote today.  The awful details of the experience and the beauty of how you helped me through it.  You were there whispering in my ear and giving me strength.  It was in 2001 when it happened and you were still there helping me through it (long after you were gone from my life).  I want to thank you for that, but how do I thank you for something you didn't know you were doing?  I guess I can just thank you for all you were there to give me.  I can thank you for giving me the tools that helped me at the times you weren't actually there.
There have been times when I have questioned what we had.  I've often asked myself if it could have been all I think it was when there is so much evidence to the contrary. We both screwed up so many times, but that's youth - that is life.  It's the things we do growing up that teach us how to be a better person.  So was it real?  It was for me and maybe that's enough.



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Baby Clothes

Thursday, August 30, 2012
I've been cleaning a load of things out of storage and listing it on eBay.  It's become my job now that I don't have my business anymore.  We have so much stuff, I could do listings every day for a year and never run out of things to sell.
Today, I took a box of baby clothes down to sell.  Ethan is four now and it's not looking likely there will be any more babies in our future.  I thought I was OK with that.  I thought I was ready to sell it, but I couldn't do it.  I just sat there picking up each item and crying.  I guess I'm not so ready after all.
The thing is that I'm no spring chicken.  Child bearing years my not be over just yet, but they sure are closer to being over than not.  I miscarried in January.  It was unplanned and very early on, but it felt like my last chance.  I know my husband doesn't really want another baby and I think when it comes to that sort of thing, a couple should be on the same page or it's not worth doing.  I didn't want to have to talk him into it (knowing full well after the miscarriage, if I tried hard enough, I could).  I wanted him to want it and then I waited for him to come around on his own.  He never did.  So, here I am crying over baby clothes and wishing I was 10 years younger.
We plan to adopt an older child some day.  We want to take a child out of the foster care system, but want to wait until our son is old enough to handle any behavioral problems we could be faced with.  I still want to do that, but I had hoped we'd have another as well.
With Ethan starting school soon, maybe I'm a bit to emotional to be listing the baby clothes.  Maybe I should switch to something else for now...


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Love is A Mix Tape

I just read a review for a book called 'Love is A Mix Tape' I may be showing my age here, but what a great title for book!  Ahh, the mix tape.  What do kids these days do to show their love for each other?? Do they make mix SD cards, memory sticks or playlists?  I wonder if CDs are a thing of the past when it comes to 'Mix Tapes'.  God, I feel old.
I wish that when I was young, I had the foresight to save my mix tapes that were given to me in my life time or better yet, saved a copy of the ones I made for others.  I wish I had a time capsule of music - A soundtrack of my life.  I'd love to see what songs would be featured.  To name a few, I know there would be songs by Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, REO Speedwagon, Richard Marx, Skid Row and Chicago.  Later volumes would include The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Led Zeppelin (the Thank You Song), Whitney Houston, Queen and Celine Dion (what an odd mix right?).  With the last 10 years featuring Cold Play, Snow Patrol, Kean and Adele (to name a few).  Now I definitely have shown my age!
One thing kids never realize is what an honor it is to be given a mix tape (CD or SD Card).  Someone took the time to pick a compilation of songs that told you just how they feel about you.  What a wonderful thoughtful thing to do.  As grown ups, we should still be making mix tapes to give to our significant others.  Just think of the reaction you'd get if you did!  My husband would laugh, but he'd like it.  For our anniversary not too long ago, I made him a CD of our greatest hits with a few added to let him know I still think of him when I hear love songs on the radio.
I think I'm going to find some time to make a list of songs that I would add to my time capsule or to the soundtrack of my life.  It would be a fun project that would probably bring back things I have long forgot about.  Music is on of these things that can send you back in time.  You could be driving down the road and a song comes on that you haven’t heard in years and you could be hurled back in time reliving some experience you didn’t think you could and without that song unexpectedly playing, you probably couldn’t.


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Tarka Dal

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

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Something about me - Creative Writing - Exercise 1.2



Today I'm supposed to write something about myself that most people don't know. I'm supposed to be open and honest...
I've been hearing sirens all morning - ambulances, fire engines and police.  Something big happened close by and it's been going on for hours.  Here's the thing about me most people don't know - I HAD TO call my husband to make sure he was OK.  It was a compulsion.  I had to call just to hear his voice and know he isn't caught up in what ever awful thing happened so close to my home, that I can't stop hearing the after effects.  He's fine, but ever since we hung up, I have been trying to keep myself from calling my son's nursery school just to make sure nothing happened there.  The thing is, other then my neurotic fears, I have no reason to call there.  So I have to just wait for it to be time to pick him up to make sure he is ok and the school hasn't blown up.
These are real thoughts that go through my mind.  I really do worry like that pretty much all the time.  I'm neurotic to the core and have to work to keep a lid on it and keep myself in check.  Even as I type this, I am trying to stop myself from calling the school because it's so hard to ignore all of the sirens in the background.  Maybe I should turn on the local news... OK, the news is on in the background now.
I say most people don't know this about me because I really do work hard at keeping people from knowing this about me.  I silently struggle with it and for the most part, almost never say any of it out loud.
Every moment my cats are out during the day, I am quietly worried that they may not come home.  I almost didn’t take this house because it’s a water front property and I was worried that they might fall in the water and drown.  I take a secret breath of relief when my husband comes home from work and I constantly worry about my little boy.  I have a special guard of the stove to keep him from being able to pull a pot down on himself, guards on the windows and when he was a baby, I had a devise that went under his mattress so if he stopped breathing an alarm would go off to alert me.  I HAVE to check on him before I go to bed.  If I didn't, I would never be able to sleep.
I'm also the sort of person that wouldn't be able to sleep if I couldn't remember if we locked up for the night.  I could be absolutely exhausted and already in bed, but if there is the slightest chance that the door may be unlocked, I would have to get out of bed and walk down 3 floors just to make sure.
We woke up one night to the fire alarm going off in the house.  It was a fluke.  There was nothing wrong.  Everything was fine.  It went off for 30 seconds and stopped, but I never got back to sleep.  I laid awake the rest of the night planning our escape route in case of a fire.  We sleep on the top floor of a three story house.  If there was ever a fire - we'd be in real trouble, but I still couldn't talk my husband into buying me the drop down fire ladder that I found the next day on eBay.
Every time my son and husband leave the house together without me, I worry it might be the very last time I see them and continue worry until they get home.  Ever since 9/11, I am afraid of flying and usually don't relax until we're half way through a flight because I tell myself if a terrorist was going to blow us up, they would have done it already.
When ever we have to take a long car ride, I secretly worry there will be an accident and don't like doing it since my son was born.  When the time came to get my son his first car seat, I researched for days on end buying the best and safest one on the market.  Money was no object when it came to keeping him safe and giving me peace of mind.
I have to say though, that I don't constantly worry, biting my nails with bated breath and furiously sweating.  I worry with quiet subtle anxiety that is just below the surface that I am aware of, but try not to acknowledge.  It doesn’t stop me from living my life or get in the way.  I still took this house even though it’s on the water, I don’t try to stop my family from going out without me, I still fly and still get in the car for long car rides.  It doesn’t run my life or ruin it for that matter, but it’s there.  Most of the time it’s there and I quietly fight it back and try to just get on with it because there just no other way around it.

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The Crying Tree by Naseem Rakha

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


Synopsis:  Irene Stanley thought her world had come to an end when her teenage son, Shep, is murdered. Daniel Robbin, who had spent his teenage years in and out of trouble, gave himself up to the police and was given the state's harshest sentence: death by lethal injection. Now, nineteen years later, as the state penitentiary prepares to execute Robbin, Irene Stanley must reveal what she has been hiding from her family. That in order to survive the anger and grief she had at loosing her so, she not only had forgiven the man who killed him, but had come to be his friend. Her revelation stuns her family and cracks open the secrets that had been surrounding her son's death. Secrets that reveal how little she understood Shep, her husband, or herself. Dramatic, emotional, and ultimately uplifting, The Crying Tree is an unforgettable story of love and redemption, the unbreakable bonds of family, and the transformative power of forgiveness.

My Thoughts: I read this book for book club and I have to say it was a wonderfully emotional and beautifully written story. The only reason I would give it four starts instead of five (out of five) was because it had a section in the middle that I found to be a bit boring compared to the rest of the book.  I think it could have been cut down to be a shorter book and would have been so much better for it.  That said, it was an emotionally powerful and thought provocting book and I loved it.




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Pasta e Fagioli


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Creative Writing - Exercise 1.1

Monday, August 27, 2012
I bought a creative writing course book month ago thinking it would help me with my blog when I felt less than inspired on writing topics.  I just got around to starting it.  The first exercise was to write about one of the sounds you hear around you and what that sound means to you.  This is what I came up with...

My cat purring – When I try to think about what this sound means to me I think of the first time I really heard a cat purr...  
I was about 9 or 10 when I got my first kitten.  We were on a family vacation with my father and his family  (my step mother & step brother & sister) somewhere on the jersey shore.  At what I think was our bed & breakfast, we found a litter of kittens in the shrubs.  They were old enough to be fed food from a can, but still so small in size.  The owner of the business was giving the kittens up for adoption. After some begging, my father let me choose one.  My choice was an orange and white long haired one (white with big patches of orange and a white face with an orange head and one small orange spot next to his nose – which I thought matched the beauty mark I had next to mine).  I chose him because he reminded me of a stray in our neighborhood that I loved and had disappeared months before (I later found out he drowned in my swimming pool – a thought that still haunts me today).
My first night with my kitten, my father and step mother let him sleep in a box next to my bed.  They lined the box with blankets and my step mother put a clock in the box with him.  She said the ticking of the clock would remind him of his mother’s heartbeat and help him sleep.
He cried a lot through the night. I remembered what my step mother told me about the heartbeat so I took him out of the box, laid on my back and placed the kitten on my chest. I remember thinking that he was so tiny and fragil.  He curled up there and began to purr as I pet him with his tiny vibrations of happiness that made me feel so much love for this tiny life.  He was asleep in no time and I remember lying awake for hours that night as the kitten slept on my chest – afraid if I feel asleep, I would roll over and crush him.  I didn't get much sleep, but having my first pet made it so much worth it.


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Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend by Matthew Green

Sunday, August 26, 2012


Synopsis:  Budo is Max's imaginary friend. But though only Max can see him, he is real. He and the other imaginary friends watch over their children until the day comes that the child stops imagining them. And then they're gone. Budo has lasted a lot longer than most imaginary friends - four years - because Max needs him more. His parents argue about sending him to a special school. But Max is perfectly happy if everything is just kept the way it is, and nothing out of the ordinary happens. Unfortunately, something out of the ordinary is going to happen - and then he'll need Budo more than ever...

My Thoughts: I bought this book based on both the unique story line and reviews I read and I can't say I am sorry that I did, but I also can't I say it completely gripped me. For me it was one of those reads that you enjoy on some level but it doesn't make you want to add the author to your list of must buys.
I just think as much as I wanted to, I didn't really buy into the imaginary friend thing as much as others seemed to have in the reviews I read.  It got great reviews and people loved it, but I can't say I connected emotionally the way others seemed to.  That being said, I never lost interest in it.  I read most of it in the Emergency Room the night I was admitted to the hospital.  It was a real life saver sitting there for all those hours by myself among the sick and wounded. It was a well written, sweet story that was a real easy read, but for me it just didn't have the impact I'd expect from a book with such good reviews.




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Grandma's Cauliflower Pasta (So good - even if you don't like Cauliflower)


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Garlic Crusted Shrimp

Saturday, August 25, 2012



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A take back...

I don't usually do such things, but I deleted yesterday's post.  It was way too 'woe is me' and I can't stand such raw emotions being aired for public view.  So, I did a take back.
In case your wondering what it said, it said something like 'Nobody likes me, everybody hates me - I think I'll go eat worms (if you don't recognise that quote - it's an American children's song).  The long and short of it is that my social life here in the UK has taken a hit as of late and I've been lonely and feeling terribly sorry for myself.
The other thing is that yesterday was a tough day for me.  It was the anniversary of the death of a friend.  It happened a lifetime ago and I always think I'm fine, but grief has a way of creeping up over and over again - no matter how long it's been.  That being said, it might be part of the reason I've been feeling so absolutely miserable.
It may be because I am home with my family today, but things feel brighter today.  I can't say I'm not bothered by how things are right now, but I need to focus on the positives.  I have a family that I adore and although I may not have a social life here, I do have amazing friendships back home that neither time or distance seem to effect.  I am lucky to have them and I'll try keeping that in mind moving forward.
In that spirit, I will post a portion of yesterdays post...
'The other day I actually did cry when my husband was leaving for work.  I cried and explained why I was so miserable... After he left, I went on Facebook to wish a friend a happy birthday and saw that my best friend (who is back in NJ) changed her cover photo to a photo of the two of us during my visit home.  It was as if she knew I needed to be reminded that I am loved.  It was such a simple thing, but it meant the world.'

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Just this one time...

Friday, August 17, 2012
To the love of my life,
I know I'm not supposed to write about you.  You have always supported this blog, but have always asked for me to keep our life separate.  Just so you know, sometimes that makes it difficult to find blogging topics, but I respect your desire for privacy.
I hope you don't mind me wrting about you and our life just this one time. The thing is that I have all these beautiful posts on here about people from my past and what they mean to me, but I never get to write about you and what you mean to me.  I know they are what led me to you, but it doesn’t seem right when you are the one who has given me so much worth writing about.  You have given me my happy ending.
I don't know why books always end at the beginning of a relationship.  Girl meets boy - they fall in love - overcome conflict - and live happily ever after.  You never get to see what happily ever after really is though.  Probably because people think it's boring - the every day stuff and maybe it is, but I try to see the beauty in it.  I try to take a good look around every now and then and take it all in.
Happily ever after is no small feat.  Everyday life is boring and people are never satisfied by what they have right in front of them.  They want more.  They want new - exciting.  What they fail to realize is that new and exciting one day becomes the everyday.  I never dream about new and exciting - ever.  I never long for anything more than what I have right in front of me.
I feel like I lived two or three lifetimes before I met you.  I waited so long for you.  I waited so long for my happy ending and I am so grateful for you.  I am so lucky to have you and your love for me.  I am so blessed to have you know me so completely and yet still love me the way that you do despite my flaws. 
You are the one who knows all my secrets (all of them).  You are the one that makes my heart skip a beat by just catching your scent as you walk past me.  You are the one I love to curl up with at night and wake up to each day.  I wish I could put into words how it makes me feel at those moments when you walk up behind me, wrap your arms around me and put your face against mine.  It's those moments that make me feel so complete and for that brief moment, everything that is wrong is made right.
I know it's not always easy.  I know I'm not always easy, but I want you to know I wouldn't change it for the world.  You are so beautiful and there is nothing sexier than watching you with our son.  When I do, it gives me such joy and fills me with such love for you that sometimes it's all I can do to keep from... :-)
I know I take for granted that you know these things so I thought I should write it down so you can re-visit these words any time you want because it will never change. You are the love of my life.  I am still so in love with you. I love our story.  I love each new chapter and I want you to know how grateful I am for my happily ever after.


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Pictures from my trip home last month

Thursday, August 16, 2012


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Tommy

Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Tommy,
If you're reading this - it would be nice if you'd get in touch.  It's been long enough.  I miss you - Ya big Jerk! You better be careful - sooner or later enough time will pass that I'll stop forgiving you for disappearing on me (doubtful, but you never know).
Love, Er

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My mixed emotions on Fifty Shades of Grey


Let me start by saying I started the book months ago and never finished it so I can't provide an accurate review.  When I bought the book.  I didn't know it was erotic fiction.  It was recommended by a friend (the hype didn't make it to the UK yet) and the synopsis I read, made it look like love story.  It had 5 star ratings and was on the NY Times best seller list.  I pre-ordered it and when it came I looked more closely at the reviews and was surprised to say the least.  As a rule, I don't read such books. To me it's kind of like soft porn -what's the point?? It's usually quite cheesy and the good stuff is cut out! That being said, I have to admit that at first I was engrossed in the book.  I myself was even a little bit in love with Mr. Grey and would be lying if I said I wasn't 'effected' by the erotic nature of the book. Like a lot of husbands, my husband was taken upstairs every night I picked it up (Not that he isn't often taken upstairs, but not quite as often as when I was reading the book).
Here's the thing though - the book is very badly written.  The author is in great need of a thesaurus and the editor should be ashamed of themselves for not insisting on changing the repetitiveness of the book.  At first I tried my best to look past it wanting so badly to continue with the book, but in the end I just couldn't do it and just stopped reading it.  I am an avid reader and because of the poor writing, the novelty of the very hot subject matter soon ran out.  I gave up about 150 pages in.  I have to read it for book club in a couple of months so if I change my mind, I'll let it be known, but I doubt this view will change.
Here's where I have mixed emotions - OK the book is badly written, but woman EVERYWHERE are reading it. Considering the subject matter - that is awesome!  Woman young and old all over the world are reading this book! Husbands all over the world are happier because their wives are getting hot and bothered by reading erotic fiction! That is a beautiful thing.  In my opinion, most woman are not sexual enough.  They get caught up in life and motherhood and let that get in the way or they are just too inhibited to allow themselves to enjoy sex.  But this book didn't become taboo - woman aren't afraid to admit they have read it (all three books no less) and are reading it out in the open everywhere you look! Fantastic!
And because of this book, couples that let their sex lives fall by the wayside, are now coming together and enjoying having more sex - How fabulous!  All too often, people allow their relationships to become stagnant.  They say they they love each other, but forget what it's like to really be in love.  My only hope is that the couples that are reaping the benefits of the books in the bedroom are finding ways to re-kindle their sex lives as well as their love for each other. That they are growing as a couple instead of woman everywhere fantasizing about a fictional character (apposed to focusing on the man they have right in front of them).  My hope is that couples are reminded of what brought them together in the first place and rekindling their love for each other as well as their sex lives.

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How To Talk To a Widower By Jonathan Tropper

Synopsis:  When Doug Parker married Hailey - beautiful, smart and ten years older - he left his carefree Manhattan life behind to live with her and her teenage son, Russ, in the suburbs. Three years later, Hailey has been dead for a year, and Doug, a widower at 29, just wants to drown himself in self-pity and Jack Daniels. But his family has other ideas... Russ is furious with Doug for not adopting him after Hailey died, and has fallen in with a bad crowd. Claire, Doug's irrepressible and pregnant twin sister, has just left her husband and moved in, uninvited, determined to turn his life around. Then there's Debbie, their younger sister, engaged to Doug's ex-best friend and maniacally determined to pull of the perfect wedding at any cost. Soon, Doug finds himself trying to forge a relationship with Russ, reconnecting with his own eccentric nuclear family, and reluctantly dipping his toes into the shark-infested waters of the second-time-around dating scene. It isn't long before his new life is spinning hopelessly out of control...
My Thoughts: Johnathan Tropper is by far my favortie author and I think this is my favorite book of his that I have read (I've read them all except for Plan B).  Johnathan Tropper has a gift of writting that brings you on an emotional roller-coaster.  While reading this book, I found myself reading through my tears and then on the very same page, laughing out loud. This book was beautifully written and he is pitch perfect in his ability to convey the most intricate emotions of his characters which just leap off the page. It is insightful, poignant and wonderfuly funny.  I just loved it!




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Thank you for the get well wishes

I just want to thank everyone who sent me get well wishes.  It was lovely and really helped to lift my spirits.
I'm feeling alot better.  The pain is gone now, but I picked up a nasty cold/cough in the hospital that is kicking my ass at the moment.  I feel really run down, but would rather this cold than the pain I had last week.
I have an Endoscopy scheduled in about 4 weeks (a procedure that allows doctors to examine the stomach by putting a scope down the throat and into the stomach).  I'm not at all looking forward to it, but hope it provides some answers on what's happening.




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Quick & Easy Spinach, White Bean & Pasta Soup

Monday, August 13, 2012


 
This recipe has moved to my new food blog.  Click here to be redirected.



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My stay in the hospital

Friday, August 10, 2012
One thing you should never have to do is take yourself to the Emergency Room.  I had to do that the other night.  I've been having abdominal pain for 3 days right under my chest.  Every time I moved it felt like someone punched me in the stomach.  It would take my breath away and make me cough.  It got bad enough for me to decide I need to go to the ER.  The thing is that we don't have any family here to babysit when things like this happen and there are very few people I'm close enough to even consider asking to help out.  I txts two people, but both are moms and couldn't get away to come over.  I didn't want to disrupt my son's routine so I waited until I put him to bed and called a taxi to take me so my husband could stay home with our son.
Like I said, you shouldn't have to take yourself to the ER.  You should have someone there to hold your hand.  I spent the ride to the hospital trying to hold back the tears because I was feeling so very sorry for myself and so very alone.  Because I refused pain meds when I got to see the evaluating nurse 2 hours after I arrived (because pain meds make me sick and the last thing I wanted was to start throwing up in the ER waiting area), I guess they thought I wasn't sick enough to see a doctor in a reasonable amount of time.  I watched people come and go as I suffered by myself for 2 more hours.
When I finally got to see a doctor, he was young, attractive and very nice.  He was attentive and thorough - too thorough as one such exam was the sort no woman or man wants to have especially when you have nobody to give you a hug when it's over to help sooth your humiliation! He even took my blood himself without asking a nurse to do it and walked me to radiology to get my x-ray.  I don't know if the extra care was because I was alone or because he was like that with all his patients, but I was grateful for his wonderful bedside manner. 
Later, after going over my results, he came in to the waiting area (instead of sending a nurse) and held my hand when he told me he was sending me to the surgical assessment unit to be admitted for the night and it was important I didn't eat or drink in case they needed to operate.  Unfortunately, his kindness didn't make me feel any less alone or afraid after he was gone and I waited for a nurse to take me up.
It was the middle of the night.  I was exhausted and in pain and all I wanted to do was go home.  The last thing I wanted was to have to stay the night in a cold dark ward that was filled with hacking, moaning and snoring patients.  The smell of urine, antiseptic and so many other unpleasant things that I couldn't place was enough to make anyone feel unwell. The blanket was thin and the pillows were hard and I have to admit that I cried as soon as the nurse closed the curtain to leave me there alone.
I laid there for hours unable to sleep.  A doctor came in a couple of hours later and then at 3:30 in the morning, they took me for more x-rays.   When I got back to my bed, I stuffed tissues in my ears to try to block out the sounds of the other patients around me and tried to sleep (desperately trying not to think about my son waking up in the morning  without me there to give him his morning cuddle time for the first time in his life). 
After a couple of hours I was woken up by nurses having a chat in the hallway.  I always find it amazing how much they just don't care about the patents trying to sleep around them.  They were overly loud and their chatting and laughter made me want to throw something at them. A nurse came in, took my vitals and said she'd be back with an IV and some pain meds.  She never came back.  Instead there was more banter, chatting and laughter among them as they did as little as possible until the morning staff came to relieve them.  The morning staff did the same until the doctors came to do their rounds and then they looked ever so busy until they were gone.
After spending the morning with still no food, water or IV, I was feeling pretty sick.  I was taken to radiology for an ultrasound and then left in the waitingroom in a wheelchair for what felt like hours for someone to take me back to the ward.
Thats when I saw the best site ever - my husband walking down the hall holding the hand of my skipping little boy next to him. My husband pointed me out to him and my son came running to hug me.  I was so happy to see them and after that I stopped hating the nurses (but still didn't like them much) and didn't mind waiting for what was to come next because I had my family with me and that's all I really needed.
That afternoon (with still no food, water, pain meds or IV), once the doctors were able to go over my test results, I was discharged for outpatient tests.  I still don'y know what's wrong, but I am so happy to be home.  The pain is manageble after getting a good nights sleep.  I'll rest today and I see my doctor this evening.  I trust my doctor and I'm hoping he'll have some ideas on getting to the bottom of what's going on.

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A wing and a prayer

Friday, August 3, 2012
I've been back from NJ for a few weeks now.  I always get quiet when I get back because it's hard for me to come back and I just need to keep to myself until I adjust back into such a change in lifestyle.  It gets lonely for me here.  I don't have a big social life and at times can go weeks without seeing anyone other than the people who live in this house.  Granted, it's better than it was since book club, but it's still quite lonely and coming back always gets me down.
My husband and I have been talking about trying again to make the move back to the US, but it's on a wing and a prayer.  An international move costs such an exorbitant amount of money and I just don't see how it can ever happen.  Our plan is to save as much as we possibly can until the spring and see where we are then.  We're hoping we'll have enough to make the move, but I'm not holding my breath - just hoping for the best.
Ethan starts school in Sept.  Since we plan to move, we were going to keep Ethan home this year as they don't start school in NJ until 5 years old, but he won't have it.  He really has his heart set on big boy school.  I'm so torn up about it.  School will be all day (8:50 - 3:00) 5 days a week.  I think it's too much too young (he only just turned 4).  When we decided not to have him start until next year, I was so relived, but this week he really put up a fight about it and I can't break his heart.  All of his friends at nursery school are talking about going to big school and he doesn't want to miss out.  I've been crying for a week.  I want him with me.  He's only 4 and in such a rush to grow up.  I'm so heartbroken.  He keeps telling me, 'But Mommy, I HAVE to go.  Big boys school is for big boys.  I'm a big boy so I HAVE to go!'  I guess I can't argue with that.
Oh, did I mention I have to find a way to buy a car and learn to drive in this country all by Sept 11th?  No pressure right?  Crap...

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