Laughter heals

Even though my journey has been full of everything that is meant to break a person, it has done everything but that.  I strongly believe that the way we see the world is what makes us or breaks us.  We can choose to cry for ourselves and wonder why bad things happen or we can take these struggles and grow.  This morning, the sun is shining, my girls are playing a board game together in the dining room while I make breakfast, Kirk is healing, we have music playing as we all bob our heads.  8 weeks ago today, our world was shaken when Kirk was shot in the line of duty.  There was uncertainty and fear for what the days ahead would hold. But here we are this beautiful morning and we are better than okay.

The day that Kirk came home, I was scared.  The idea of a rehab facility was out of the question for us.  I took an emergency leave from work and decided without a doubt, that I would take care of him.  A wheelchair, wound care, medications, acute blood loss, therapies and all.  I was scared but knew I could do it.  Kirk is the strongest person I've ever known so I knew we would could do it together.  Pushing him out of the SICU that day, was just the beginning.  Kirk was somber and quiet as he tackled the first transfer into the van and ride home.  His friends and I made the drive home and they helped me get him up the new ramp that his co-workers built over the front steps and into our new "normal".  Born from these scary firsts and unknowns, we have had experiences and adventures that have brought both tears and laughs.  

The first few weeks that he was home, I feared so many things especially him falling or something going wrong. I would check on him after showering, dressing or doing anything that took 10 minutes or longer.  He wouldn't tell me if he needed something especially if it would wake me up, so I had no choice but to hover.  And hover I did!  He won't admit it, but I'm pretty sure he finds joy in watching me panic or worry so in his own ways, provokes that.  But little did he know, I could keep up with that game!  I've had to threaten to take his walker away in order to reduce my worry (although I never actually did).  But the texts that followed with his parents in regards to me threatening to take away his mode of transportation, have made my face hurt from laughing so hard.  

Early into this journey, it was very difficult for Kirk to sleep in bed between the discomfort and positioning of his hand and leg so sleeping in the lazy boy was easiest.  But there was a night he wanted to try to get into bed.  As I said, he didn't like to wake me when he needed something but I am a light sleeper, so usually did any way.  That night he tried to sleep in bed, he tried to roll over...of course waking me.  I was half asleep and reached out for him when I felt his movement, but couldn't find him.  I yelled "KIRK, WHERE ARE YOU?' and he responded, "I'm right here, stop yelling at me".  I keep in close contact with his mom and texted her the next morning that I had lost him in the middle of the night.  She asked me, "where was he? In the bathroom?".  My response: "No, he had rolled over and just couldn't reach him".  

In the beginning, it was a feat just to get out the door on time for therapy or appointments.  Things that were once simple and thoughtless had become quite rigorous and time consuming.  There was the morning when we got out to the van to leave with 30 minutes to make it to therapy after all the careful planning...and I managed to lock my keys inside the van.  My only set of keys.  So there we were, him calling AAA and me calling therapy to let them know we wouldn't make it to the first appointment.  Not quite so funny in the moment, but we found humor in later.  We made it work and he was able to do physical therapy a little later in the day.  

A couple days ago, we had gale force winds.  No big deal, right?!  Well, we met Kirk's parents for dinner and when leaving the restaurant, I parked his wheelchair in front of my van so I could unlock the doors and open the side doors for the girls.  (I don't have a fancy key fob like most) This took me all of 3.6 seconds. When I looked back up, Kirk had vanished.  I ran to the front of the van to see if he had scooted himself to his side like he sometimes does, but he wasn't there either.  It hit me.  He must have gotten caught in a gust of wind and I panicked!  I turned around quickly and seen he was halfway across the parking lot.  He never yelled out or even raised an eyebrow.  There he was, in his wheelchair calm and collected as he waited for me to rescue him.  I'm sure it was quite the sight for his dad who was standing not too far away!  

Kirk has a long ways to go with recovery, but even through his tough days or many unknowns, we laugh and smile through the daily bloopers and countless ungraceful moments.  That is what life is all about.  We can't control the curveballs, but we can choose how we handle them.  So far, we are hitting home runs OUR way.  

Unwavering Strength

April 17th, 2019.  Kirk's birthday.  Those close to me know that birthday's are a big deal to me.  It's the day we celebrate the birth of those we love and all the reasons we are thankful for that special day that brought them to us.  Through all of my heartaches over the last 10 years, finding a man who is so solid, strong and wonderful is always something to celebrate.  I wake up every single day in awe of the person he is and thankful that he is such an important part of my life.  So I looked forward to his birthday.  I had already ordered a cake for him from a bakery near my brother and he planned to drive it to me early that afternoon.  I had worked the night before but set my alarm to only sleep for a few hours so I could get up and spend the day with him before he had to go to work that evening.  Even the girls were excited to get out of school to have cake with him.  Everything went as planned.  I'm pretty sure I wished him happy birthday at least 10 times that day.  But as I snapped pictures of him blowing out his candles and the girls faces with joy as they watched, I had a pit in the bottom of my stomach.  Something just didn't feel right.

I brushed it off and kissed him good-bye as he left for work.  We texted here and there as we always do before I lay down.  Around 9:40 that night, I texted him that Nola was having trouble falling asleep and he texted back saying to let her work through it.  At approximately 11:08, I woke to my phone vibrating relentlessly.  The first thing I seen on the screen were Facebook messages asking me if Kirk was working and if he was okay. I felt that pit turn into a boulder.  Then the hospital number starting ringing...I knew.  I knew something was majorly wrong. I managed to answer although I could barely breathe.  The doctor told me that they had Kirk in the ER and that he had been in a trauma.  She proceeded to tell me he had been shot twice.  The sheer panic set in.  I managed to ask her if he was okay and where he was shot at. She told me he was going to be okay and had been shot in the upper leg and hand.  A small bit of relief as I knew we could work with those injuries.  I remember another doctor getting on the phone who knew us personally and she explained that he was alert and angry but that he was going to be okay. Shortly after they hung up with me and I was still standing in the same spot hyperventilating and dry heaving, my phone rang again.  This time, the sergeant was on the phone and he told me not to drive and that an officer was on his way to pick me up and bring me to the hospital.  It was then that I realized I needed to get dressed and call someone to come over to be with the girls. My cousin is who had messaged me asking if Kirk was okay when she heard an officer had been shot so I knew she would probably answer.  She was able to get to our house before the officer and took over things with the girls so I could leave immediately.  The officer drove me to the hospital as fast as he could even though it felt like an eternity. I remember pulling into the ambulance bay and knowing I just had a short distance left to travel before I could see him and touch him.  I ran.  I ran the rest of the way. There he was.  Laying in the trauma room, calm and pale.  The first thing he said to me was, "I'm 100%" as I gasped and felt relief flood my soul.  This man who is always so strong and calm, still saying he was okay even as the trauma doctor explained that his femur was shattered and they needed another CT of his hand to see what damage was done there.  The pain, surgeries and days to follow are a blur.

There are things that stand out more than others.  His parents and brother rushing to the hospital and embracing me with so much support and love.  Driving Kirk's car home from the hospital after an officer brought it over and hearing the most profound song playing (Get Up by Shinedown) and I cried big ugly tears for the first time through this.  And the most vivid memory; the sight of seeing Kirk stand up from his bed with the help of physical therapists on day 4 and mastering the modified walker as if it was all he ever knew.  It was at that moment that I knew he would overcome this as strong as he has alway has.  His calm and steady demeanor never wavered.

We are at almost 2 months post injuries and I am even more amazed by him than I was before.  The unimaginable super man!  He still has a long ways to go in his road to recovery and healing, but has come so far already.  As hard as this all has been, I can say that this has brought us closer.  He makes me laugh and smile every single day. So many stories but for another blog.  I want to end this by saying how amazing the support has been from every angle.  From all of his family, friends, co-workers as well as mine.  They always say that the men in blue are a tight family and I can say first hand, it most definitely is.  I am so proud of this man that I am so lucky to call my own.