Incoherent Scribblings

Over the past two weeks I have learned more about diabetes, blood pressure, and painkillers than I have ever known or really wanted to know. I have learned about wheel chairs, gate belts, and glucometers.

I have learned that taking care of someone that is recovering from an accident is mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting. I now have a deep-seeded respect not only for people in the health care field, but all individuals who act as caregivers for parents, grandparents, or children.

I have learned that the two scariest words in the English language are “brain injury.” I have learned to be thankful that he is alive. I have learned that my mother is a strong woman but when she is at the breaking point I have to be even stronger.

I have seen the aftermath of a motorcycle accident and let me tell you… It isn’t pretty.

Would a helmet have helped?

That is the question I have been asking myself since my step-dad was in a motorcycle accident on Monday.

Unlike seatbelts, motorcycle helmets are not required by law in Iowa. It is a freedom thing and one that I understand, and in principle, agree with. After all, I am a consenting adult capable of making my own decisions. Seatbelt or motorcycle helmet, I don’t believe the government has the right to tell me that I must protect myself.

Obviously, no helmet would have helped to prevent the cracked ribs.

Would a helmet have protected him from the minute skull fracture? Maybe. The fracture was in such a place that it would have largely depended on where the bottom of the helmet was.

Would a helmet have kept him from getting the laceration on the back of his head? Undoubtedly.

Is my step-dad lucky to be alive? Absolutely.

March has always been kind of a crazy month for me. I don’t know why, but a lot of life-changing moments have happened to me in the month of March. For example, I lost my virginity in March and I got married in March. (And no, it was not the same March! )

This year’s March Madness actually started at the end of February with communications from two places where I had applied for jobs inquiring whether or not I would still be interested in interviewing with them. As I was, I spent many hours in the first few days of March exchanging emails and telephone calls arranging interviews. Besides, what better way to pass the time during a blizzard than to spend it off the road and inside?

Anyway, in the midst of all the interview arrangements, I learned that my dad was going to have surgery on his shoulder to repair a torn rotator cuff. As I mentioned before, I have a weird and flexible schedule so I offered to accompany Dad to the doctor appointments in The City during the week leading up to his surgery. And because I am The Good Daughter, I also shuttled him between out-patient surgery and physical therapy since he was not allowed to drive for a week following his surgery.

My first job interview was on the 14th of March and was only about 30 miles away from Small Town Iowa. Unhappily it was not for a library job, but was something that I ran across in our local newspaper and was encouraged to apply for by my mom. I wasn’t that enthused about the position or the pay, but figured it would be something that I could do while I waited for my library job to come along.

The second interview was for a library job and took place this past week. I only returned from this three day interview marathon last evening, so I don’t know anything definitive yet and won’t until around April 15, (the wheels of academia turn slowly) but I think it went quite well.

Like the last time I had an on-campus interview, I was lucky enough to get in touch with some friends while I was on the road and they took me out for a night on the town after all the stress of the interview was finished.

Oh yes, I’d say that March came in like a lion for me… let’s just hope it goes out like a lamb!

Regular readers may remember that back in October, I got a new car. This was the car I wanted and one that fits my personality and lifestyle: Namely “a little blue coupe.” I love my little car and it serves its purpose of getting me from Point A to Point B.

However, because I am living amongst my family and because I have a weird and flexible schedule, it falls upon me from time to time to transport my niece and nephew.

My niece is not much of a problem to transport. She is big enough that in our state she is technically legal in just a seat belt in the rear seat. When I drop her off at school I have to stop in the car pool lane and let her out. When I pick her up she has to crawl into the back under the seat belt and shut the door behind her, but we have been doing it enough this year that she has her entrances and exits mastered.

My nephew is not so easy to move on the other hand. At just over a year old, he still has to be in a baby seat. My mom’s car has one, but mine does not. Because of this, I do not have to pick him up very often and when I do, I just use my mom’s car. Unfortunately, he has recently outgrown the car seat that Mom has, so he really must be moved in my sister’s vehicle.

And so, today when I had to pick my niece up from school and my nephew up from daycare I borrowed my sister’s car… which just so happens to be a (mini)van!

Now, I must say right now for those of you out there that already have or for whatever reason like (mini)vans, more power to you, but I personally do not care for them. This is well-known to my mother… who teased me about driving a van and being like a soccer mom when she found out I was going to drive The Van.

Nevertheless, I felt sort of special to be driving The Van: My sister has had it less than a month. It is one of those fancy ones that have doors on both sides and are remote controlled. Before I went to get the kids I practiced opening the doors because I wanted to avoid a blonde moment and didn’t want to slow down the car pool lane.

I got the baby from daycare, but couldn’t figure out how to use the remote control to open the doors with the baby (ha! The little bugger weighs about 25lbs!) in my arms. Though I struggled, I finally managed to get the door open the old-fashioned way and wrestle him into his little seat. Then we were off to pick up “Sissy.”

In the carpool lane I was prepared: I got to the head of the line and Sissy came to greet us, but when I punched the little button to automatically open her door, it didn’t work. (Who knew it needed to be in “Park” for the remote doors to work?!) Forgetting that The Van has remote locks, I reached over and unlocked the door so Sissy could get in.

She jumped in The Van and as she sat in her little booster seat and buckled herself in, my little niece said, “Renée, you know you don’t have “Buddy” buckled in his seat right, don’t you?”

Today’s story actually started a couple of weeks ago when I found out that we would be going to my cousin’s on Saturday, December 23.

My cousin’s oldest daughter’s birthday is on that day, so along with Christmas, she was going to have a birthday party this year. A person with a birthday so close to Christmas is likely to cause confusion for any family, but in my family it causes extra headaches because not only is my aunt divorced from my cousin’s father, my cousin is no longer with her oldest daughter’s father. As a result, there are always two extra families involved with this particular birthday.

Most of the time my cousin separates the birthday party from the Christmas party for her daughter, but for whatever reason that was not the case this year. It was therefore decided that my family wouldn’t do the Christmas part of the party until after the other two families left the birthday party since neither my aunt nor my cousin are on the best of terms with their respective exes.

This was all well and good, but for some reason unbeknownst to me, it was then decided that we would only unwrap presents to and from my cousin’s family and the presents to and from my aunt, uncle, and youngest cousin would wait until Sunday when they were coming to my mom’s house. Silly and confusing I know, but no one asked my opinion!

So then on Sunday, my aunt, uncle, youngest cousin, sister, niece, and nephew arrived at Mom’s house to unwrap presents. Mom and I thought that my sister was going to bring all the presents for everyone but my dad’s family to Mom’s house, but somewhere along the way our wires got crossed and my sister was under the impression that Mom, Stepdad, and I were coming to her house Christmas morning and exchanging our presents there.

Granted, my sister only lives two blocks down from Mom so we could have gone down and got the presents, but then Mom decided it sounded like a good idea to go to Sis’s on Christmas morning because she wanted to see what Santa brought the grandkids anyway. So once again we decided to only unwrap part of the presents.

The present confusion finally got sorted out last evening with Mom, Stepdad, and I planning to go down to my sister’s this morning to have a little Christmas with the kids and with me staying at my sister’s house until Dad, Stepmom, and Stepsister came for lunch and more presents.

I went to bed last night not with visions of sugar plums in my head, but thoughts of my tasty cream of broccoli soup since I had been “volunteered” to make it for lunch.

I was even awake this morning when the phone rang: It was my sister informing me that Christmas at her house had been canceled… Due to the fact that my niece had gotten sick in the night.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope yours was less confusing than mine!