What Will Next Week Hold?

Here I sit on a Saturday afternoon. I was supposed to be at work today but I asked for the day off after Thatcher had his finger bitten off by a dog on Wednesday then went to surgery yesterday. I wasn't sure how that was going to go or if he was going to be in pain or admitted or what to expect. Luckily for me my boss is amazing and quickly took me off the schedule, no questions asked. Let me tell you where I was at mentally last Saturday.

Last Saturday was my first day back working on the floor since COVID, meaning not in the NICU. I was working on the surgery floor. That's a different world. It's crazy busy, it's one hundred times more stressful, especially with everyone being tested for COVID and numbers being so high currently. I ran all day, discharging admitting, just ran non stop. All this while checking my phone to see if my children's COVID test results had come back. On Wednesday, of last week, we were told that a child on Zane's baseball team had tested positive, wasn't really having a lot of symptoms, but had tested positive and the team would be quarantining for two weeks. This pushed me fully over the edge. Wednesday night the dams broke. I cried for hours, not necessarily because of this potential exposure, but it was just the thing that pushed me over the edge. The world will never be the same and the one thing we were doing that maybe felt normal was of course the one thing putting us at the most risk.

Thursday they were tested, Friday we locked our family back down, the endless conversations around what to do about baseball and school continued day and night. My mind can't shut it off and the reality of the new world we live in hit hard and took a big tole last week. So by last Saturday, as I was running all day at my job, I was beyond exhausted and just was ready for a new week. Can we please just start a new week, this one will go better I'm sure. It has to go better. It just has to be better than the weighted, sad, stressful, crazy week of last week.

Monday the results came back negative. We threw out an ultimatum to the baseball teams that if they wanted their stellar Korenak boys back on the team everyone will have to commit to social distancing, not just us. They agreed since they are both amazing baseball players. I commited hard to Christmas in July as an attempt to force joy into this house come hell, high water, or a magical elf making a reappearance in the absolute dead of summer. We will have fun!!!! I will wrap random gifts, we will make and decorate sugar cookies, we'll listen to Christmas carols, we'll even break out a tiny Christmas tree if it can bring some sort of happiness to this very tiny piece of our world. The boys were reluctant yet I pushed onward. This week has to be better I kept saying. There has to be less tears, we have to have some fun, there has to be some good memories we can make right now.

 I quickly remembered that most of the Christmas traditions we do involve food specific to this holiday or time of year. It all revolves around food because we're Americans. It's not good. I don't make the rules. I ate the cookies and tried to ignore the weight I was gaining because we were finding happiness. We were making memories.

 I spent a hundred dollars I don't really have on gnome crafts that I could do for future Christmas decorations. This was purely for my joy, completely not needed, but I was determined to find the joy even if it meant I had to buy it.

 We made and ate a cheese ball because that's a Christmas celebration food. 

 Gary was up to his old tricks, playing games, hiding, and entertaining us all.

When I posted these pictures on social media it probably looks like I'm doing this for my children. That all this was an attempt at being a good, fun mother. Trying to find ways to make memories for my children. Things they will look back on and remember as a great time. That is somewhat true. What is more true and more honest is I was just as much doing all of this for myself. The week prior was almost too much to bear. It had broken me and I needed a something to pull me out of it. Something, if only a brief distraction, to help get my mind in a better place. I needed something to smile about. I needed something to remind me how wonderful this life really is, usually, maybe not currently in this terrible world, but for the most part this is a wonderful life (I should watch that movie next). So yes, I wanted them to have fun. I wanted them to get a fun little present. I thought they'd enjoy seeing Gary. It seemed like a cute idea, but mainly, honestly it was for me. 

Now as with literally everything these days the good times did not last long. Wednesday morning we were doing writing time outside and I sent Thatcher out to collect all the baseball in the yard. I was helping Zane spell various words pertaining to his leech essay (don't ask why we were writing about leeches) and I heard the neighbors dog bark. Thatcher immediately starting crying and I thought he was just scared. I didn't even look that way until Zane said, "oh my God mom he's bleeding." That was an understatement. He was covered in blood, so much so that I wasn't sure of where it was coming from. It was all over his face so I, of course, assumed a head injury of some kind. Once he got closer it became obvious that part of his finger was gone and he was screaming that the doggy bit him. 

This is the split second in time where I had to mentally tell myself to switch hats. I have to stop being a terrified mother and become a nurse who has dealt with much worse. I've become good at this switch, but have to say this was the most tested I've ever been, as there was blood everywhere and two other terrified children to contend with. The big boys have never had to make that mind switch, from family member to medical worker, but this would become their first attempt at it. Rowan, my sweet empathetic Rowan, quickly had to be told he had to keep it together. He could not scream and cry out of fear, which we all wanted to do, he had to help and he had to be strong. I am beyond proud to say that he did this magnificently. I wasn't sure he was going to be able to. I thought I might just have to make him leave the room. But no, he packed bags, found blankets, and chargers and got all our things ready to go to the hospital.

Zane, my already traumatized, throw up at anything, Zane became my medical assistant. He called Zach and told him the neighbor's dog bit off Thatcher's finger. Not identifying which finger or how much, just bit it off and we had to go to the hospital. As Zach raced home Zane I and dealt with the wound. After years of injuries and trips to the ER I have a very intense, fully stocked, first aid basket in my bathroom. We got T inside, trailed by blood, and cleaned/dressed the wound in hopes of stopping the bleeding enough to drive him to the ER. Zane was dry heaving the whole time as I gave him detailed instructions of what to do next. Following instructions isn't his strong suit so I'm confident Jesus, Mary, and all the angels were their helping him locate various supplies I needed. He poured hydrogen peroxide on the wound, he cut the gauze, he got tape. He was a rock star.

Zach came home and off we went to the ER. I work at the hospital so I know that the visitor policy currently is one parent per patient, but that didn't occur to me until we were exiting for the hospital. This was the only time I cried, when I realized I had to do this alone. Whatever this turned out to be, it was just going to be me. In hind sight I generally do ER visits alone anyway, but this time it felt more traumatic as it wasn't a choice and I truly didn't know what we were going to see under that bandage or what it would require to get it fixed. I thought a hospital admission and/or surgery were not off the table at that point and I was there alone.

T did great in the ER with very few tears as people came in with wide eyes at the sight of his finger missing a large piece off the end. He was brave and in shock. He wore his little tiny snake mask the for the entire four hours, without complaint. He answered questions, stayed calm, and in the end we came home with plans for surgery next week. By the end of the day surgery was scheduled for Friday and he'd have to have a COVID swab Thursday. All of this to be faced and done alone, just T and I. I know that Zach's experience, randomly being at work while his son was in surgery had to be just as hard, maybe harder, but being there alone with my sad little boy through this all has been gut wrenching as well.

 

 By the end of the day Wednesday T was back to his old self, driving his tractor around the backyard like nothing had happened.

Yesterday he went to surgery early in the morning. They said everything went well even though when I saw his finger last night it still looked pretty awful. They had tried to save the nail bed to see if it could continue to grow even without the nail track which usually tells it where to go. There is a potential that he has to have it removed in the future. T was the only pediatric patient at this particular surgery center so ended up leaving with seven cars by the time we were all done. It was a very strange experience as the waiting room sat empty. I can't imagine the people waiting for their loved ones to come out from major procedures. I was out there for maybe forty minutes, I was fine, this was a small event in the span of my parenting, but I know so many others who are going through the unimaginable are there with no one. 

 He got new short sleeve pajamas since his hand won't fit through his long sleeved ones. Of course he couldn't just wear short sleeve shirts. That would never do. This is T with the Spiderman and card the neighbors gave him. They feel horrible and have been incredibly kind about the whole thing. They are putting in a taller, new fence next week, which they absolutely didn't have to do. It was just a freak, sad accident. Yes we have at least four of this exact Spiderman at our house if you're wondering.

 T woke up asking to see his brothers and did not stop crying about it until they returned home. I thought sending them with Mom for the day was a good idea, turns out it was the worst idea. He desperately needs his brothers around.

 Zane and Rowan don't always love or like each other but they can all agree that they adore sweet baby T.

Somehow this unbelievably hard event wasn't the biggest stress in my life this week. Hanging over all of this was the decision of what to do with my children when school starts. It's an impossible decision with no right answers and no good choices. I found myself up all night Wednesday night stressing about that decision way more than the reality that my son is missing part of his human body that I worked so hard to create. The decisions around his finger were simple. You go to the ER you do whatever hard things they tell you to. The facts are clear, no one is arguing about the science behind a finger amputation and repair. You do the next right thing which is very clearly laid out to you by experts. Get the tests, go to the surgery, take the medicine keep it wrapped, wait and see how it heals. All unbelievably hard, but I can do hard things. I've done much much harder things than a finger amputation. 

The things parents are being asked to decide now seem not just hard but impossible. So after I got my son home from his surgery I spent the afternoon going between reassuring him that yes his brother's were returning and writing emails, calling friends, doing research on various online learning softwares, and filling out applications asking me things like "why do I think my child will be successful doing virtual learning?" Oh, I don't think they'll be successful. I think it will be a full debacle and we'll all kill each other, lose our minds, they will fall behind and have to be held back, or all of the above. But I don't know that sending them is safe for them or for their teachers. I also think my kids would absolutely do better with someone else teaching them and with their peers around them. I want them to have some sorts of arts education which is only available with in person school. It is just an absolutely impossible decision. I cannot do the impossible which is what is being asked of parents everywhere right now.

So now it's Saturday again. I feel once again broken and exhausted from the week I just survived. I absolutely shutter to think what the next week holds in store for us. I use to think in terms of months or even years. What will this year bring? No, now it's days and hours, maybe weeks. What will this next week hold? Who knows? Impossible decisions will be made and whatever they are they will be wrong and hard.  Other people will second guess them and I will second guess them and I will most likely change my mind in a day. My job may once again become uncertain as pediatric ICU beds will once again be needed for adult ICU patients. My patience with my children will be pushed to the limit once again as we have the same arguments and disagreements for the five hundredth time over the past four months. We'll get up and do all the hard things again, and again, and then somewhere in the middle a huge wrench will be thrown at us that we never saw coming. I just keep saying "to stay alive, that would be enough." And that seems harder everyday. Here's hoping I can check in next Saturday.

July 4th Fun 2020

There is literally no better way to start off a fourth of July weekend than getting up, putting on our Hamilton shirts, eating a Hamilton themed breakfast, then watching Hamilton the movie. We had A.Ham and eggs and Hamilcakes, which Zach knocked out of the park. The movie did not disappoint and I've watched it three times since it came out on the third, I'm not sorry. The kids loved it, even little T who I'm pretty sure had no idea what he was in for, is still requesting to watch it daily. He was slightly confused as to why they were singing the wrong words to Dear Theodosia, which I've sung to him as Dear Baby Thatcher for years now.

 A.Ham and eggs with a revolver shaped pancake, so on brand.

 The boys had been making decorations for our Hamilton party all week.

 We all put on our Hamilton shirts for the big event. That's a thing we do in quarantine which is strange. We still get dressed up for things as though anyone is going to see us. No, not dressed up like make up and real pants, but like Hamilton shirts to watch a movie together. You have to find joy some how people and the Hamilton film has brought us a lot of joy this week.

 Then it was off to the lake for a classic fourth of July celebration. It is amazing how well this tradition has held up over the past thirty of forty years. This exact scenario, minus some time in Okeene at Grandma's house, while the cousins legit were dying to be at the lake, was how I spent all the 4th of July's growing up. So we've improved on it a little bit, because it's just all lake time, with some forced breaks to try to avoid actual heat strokes. I have decided the myth about not being able to swim for thirty minutes after eating was really just my Grandmother's ploy to keep us inside, force fluids down our throats, and try to get our core body temperature down to acceptable levels. She was a genius, I've never said any different.


So decades later there we were, all the cousins, swimming, jumping off the dock, eating their weight in potato chips, arguing about putting on sunscreen, staying up late. The whole thing, but in such a different world. I have no memories of fighting sunscreen or really putting sunscreen on as a child, but now that I'm firmly in the Mom/Dad/Aunt/Uncle crew it's the bane of my existence. That and trying to get my children to drink water, which I also have no memory of fighting with adults about. I remember constantly being yelled at to wear a life jacket, which we all survived our days at the lake, so that worked, but no memories of all these other battles. Did I every drink water when I was there? As I recall I laid on a floaty, talked to my cousins, road in the paddle boat, or had diving competitions all day long, until it was dinner time.

Doing canon balls with your brother's is the best.

 These three little peanuts are just the cutest thing in the world. Sidenote: These life jackets are legitimately lifesavers. Say, for instance your older cousin pushes you off the dock when you're 19 months old, this will save your life. Yes, Thatcher can be terrifyingly aggressive. Why?? Also the toddlers can splash and kick themselves around without me having to be in there holding them the entire time. It's a game changer and a life saver. Lord I hope T can still wear his next year because how in the world will I eve be able to get him swimming lessons in this crazy world right now?

 These two are the best of friends.

 The water was so clear last weekend, you could see the kids feet when they were standing up. It was pretty low, but nice and warm.

 Zane working on his swan dive.

 Classic end of the dock cousin picture.

 There is nothing Zach likes to do more than catch some bass.

 We bought fireworks to be set off on the dock, however the county that we were in was under a burn ban. After talking to people all day about whether or not we thought the sheriff would actually come out to the lake and issue a $550 fine, we decided this was a very teachable moment. You have to do the right thing, even when no one is watching. You have to follow all the rules even if you think you can get away with breaking them because no one is around. The rules are there to keep yourself and other people safe. So we went into Okeene to watch the firework show at the football field, just like we did as a child. Well we sat on the far side away from the mass of people sitting by the football field and it was perfect. We could see where they were being set off from and we could see the small brush fire that was started and the put out by the Okeene fire department, which was on the scene.

 This was Thatcher's first year getting to stay up for fireworks. Yes, it was one hundred degrees outside and yes he was in his Spiderman pajamas. He wouldn't have it any other way. He loved them and told me repeatedly that he was not scared of them at all.

 Sunday morning we woke up and had fishing time on the dock, which is my favorite time of the day at the lake. This was the part of the lake experience that I missed as a child. Since we lived close enough we had to go home to go to sleep. So we missed the sleepy mornings, sitting on the dock, fishing, and enjoying the weather before it was blazing hot. We also missed the thunder storms at night, which is also one of the best parts of the lake experience.

Me and sweet Alice

 My children go way to hard when they are at the lake. This means that by Sunday they are exhausted. This is Rowan at like 10am Sunday, asleep at the kitchen table. No one can manage to do much of anything. They swam for a little bit, but quickly were out of energy. If only they could learn to pace themselves, but we haven't mastered that.

So we had a wonderful time with the whole family at lake per tradition. However, all of this was probably against our better judgment during this particular time in the world. Everyone is trying to be careful, but everyone is having to do at least some things out in society. No one wants to be the person that infects the whole family. No body wants to be the family on the news, "fifteen members of the same family test positive for COVID after fourth of July party." But we did it anyway and had a blast. There is always that constant fear just under the surface now. The constant questioning if what you're doing is worth the risk, but also we have no idea when or how this ends so you can't not see your family forever. It remains a different world and the decisions are not getting easier to make.



Halfway Through 2020

When we drive home from Missouri over Christmas break each year Zach and I always talk about what we think the next year will hold for us. I remember having this conversation on the drive home in December 2017. We tried to think of what could possibly happen and we couldn't come up with a thing. Fast forward two months and our child was in heart failure. We spent the rest of the year in fear and dread as we faced that journey. December 2018, I remember being terrified to start a new year, just absolutely dreading what unforeseen horrors might await us in 2019, assuming that it would be worst than the previous year. 2019 turned out to be a great year. There were no terrible unforeseen events, there was no reason for dread. Last year, on our way home I felt that sense of dread creep up again. I know, most people see a new year as a new possibility, a clean slate. I should try that outlook, but that's just not how it feels to me.

So in December, as we drove home, we once again racked our brain. What things could happen this year? We went over the financial stuff, the medical stuff, jobs, schools, sports, all of it, and on paper it seemed like 2020 should be great. It was a new decade. We were closing in on ten years of parenting. We were both settled in our jobs, things were going well.  Never in a million years could we have imagined what was in store for us as a family, a country, and a world in this new year and new decade. It's just unbelievable to think back on.

I started the year off getting sicker than I might have ever been in February, this after all my children had the flu, sometimes multiple times, in December and January. We had already missed birthdays and school events with illnesses so it felt like our quarantine really started in January. I was sick through all of February and the first part of March, missing Alice and Abbey's birthday celebrations, while barely sneaking in Rowan's while I wasn't feeling great. I recently have started working on my year in review book for our fourteenth wedding anniversary and looking back on the pictures from last year and the beginning of this year genuinely feels like a lifetime ago, in another world. We were out at events, gathered in groups, faces fully out in the open, not in abject fear, wondering what the next day, week, or month might bring.

 As we rounded into March our calendars began to fill up with end of the year activities and baseball games/practices. Just as we started to brace ourselves for what is usually the busiest, craziest time of our year the world came to a screeching halt.

This was our weekly in for the last week of March. This calendar is usually filled up with practices, games, work, and school activities.

This was jarring. It was terrifying and it took weeks to find our new rhythm. It took weeks of fighting the urge to go to a store, to see go see family, go to the gym, go to church, or leave the house for any reason. I was restless and stressed, as was everyone else in world. But during this time there was a great sense of unity. Everyone was on the same page. We were all in this together, even though it really felt like there was no clear leadership on the state or national level. Businesses, schools, entertainment industry, and sports teams took the lead, shutting down all the places where people could gather. Everything shut down, everyone was at home, everyone was trying to teach their children, everyone was missing their family. All our feeds were full of the quarantine photos, part of this big shared, group experience and sacrifice for the better good.

 There were no choices in this matter.  This time was unbelievably hard and stressful. It was confusing and scary and the unknown ahead was just a lot to deal with. Every member of the family was working through a huge amount of emotions and feelings. However, during this time I held out some hope that America would come through and do it's thing. The thing where we pull together, do the right thing, listen to brilliant scientists, find a plan, be the leaders of the free world, and then save the day. We just needed to weather the storm for a little bit then all would be back to normal again soon.

We are now three months into this pandemic and currently I feel like we are just in a tail spin with no end in sight, no leadership, no plan, the numbers are getting astronomically worse each week, and we as a country are now arguing about just basic science. The thing that could actually help decrease the spread of the this virus (people wearing masks in public) has now, somehow, become a political statement. People would literally rather potentially kill people than be seen as agreeing with their political opponents. I thought the first six weeks or so were really bad, almost impossible to bear, but this new phase, where anything goes and we just pretend it isn't happening is much much worse.

I end most days feeling like I'm living in the twilight zone or like I'm taking crazy pills. We're being told the things we see are not really happening. We're being told that the science that is just obvious facts of life, that I live and work with everyday, isn't true. These messages aren't just coming from random far out websites or conspiracy theorists, these messages are coming from the highest offices in government. They are coming from the people making the policies and allocating the funding for the services that we so desperately need in the time of national crisis. As a healthcare professional I'm having to have these debates with patient's families and it is simultaneously both absolutely maddening and terrifying.

In the beginning I assumed by June and July things would have calmed down and the plans for the fall would be everyone goes back to school, even if that schooling had to look a little bit different. I was ready to buy some masks and donate a bunch of Clorox wipes, but they'd be going back to school for sure. I just had to make it through the summer. Now we're halfway through this year and I have ended every night, for the past week, in a borderline panic attack about what to do in August. Our school district has come out with a very comprehensive plan that includes three different options for schooling in the fall. All on campus, all at home, or a mixture of both. The decision is now ours to make and I literally have no idea what we should do. I go round and round in my head until I fall into a very restless sleep, full of nightmares of various kinds, mostly involving being getting sick and dying or being locked in our house with these children forever.

I am exhausted. Parenting is not going well. I have no patience with my children and they have no patience with me. They miss their friends, they miss their teachers, they miss doing fun things outside of our house. They miss their normal lives and all the time they've spent with their brothers have lead to downright hate each other. None of us have a creative bone left in our bodies. There are no fun themed nights anymore, no weeks learning about some random thing they are interested in. There is no enthusiasm on anyone's part, least of all me, as I face down the possibility of having to actually teach them new subjects. 

I cannot over state how much I DO NOT want to be in charge of their education. It does not go well. With that being said that is a real life possibility now, which leads me down all the rabbit holes of how does this effect them long term. Will Rowan be held back because I can't get his reading and spelling where it needs to be? Will Zane bomb the state tests next year after having costs through his schooling for a year. Will we end up killing each other? Will Zane's super extroverted soul be broken and crushed to pieces if I tell him he's not going to go to school with his friends next year? That last one might be my biggest concern, as silly as that is. 

So we've survived the first half of the year 2020 and that is no small thing. Literally tens of thousands of people have not. We've weathered six months of storms. And by storms I mean six months of fights, fits, emotional breakdowns, boredom filled rage, tears of uncertainty, disappointment, loss, fear, and mourning all that once was. I'm happy to report that at the halfway point of the craziest year on record my husband and I love each other more. We're not tired of each other or wanting to kill each other. We're struggling with the humans we've created, but we solidly still love each other. I'm learning to stay firmly in the present, firmly in this exact moment. I'm learning how to put lots of boundaries on my social media usage and participation as all of social media feels like a hellscape right now. I'm learning how to walk the fine line between trying to stay somewhat informed (which for the first few weeks of this I couldn't do at all) and not letting so much in that it breaks my brain. This is a work in progress, but it's an important skill for 2020.

Lastly, I just keep coming back to the word grace, which for sure is my word for this year, and again could've never guess that going into the year. I am continually reminding myself to just give everyone so much grace. Myself, my children, my family, my coworkers, my patience, their families, leaders, and private citizens. Everyone needs some grace and rest right now. I would be lying if I said I wasn't terrified about the second half of 2020. I am down right petrified of what comes next. But I'm taking it one moment at a time. God willing we'll make it through the next six months and have brighter days ahead.