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How many times have we all heard it – “Unfortunately, death is a part of life”.  But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.  My Mother said that the nights and Sunday’s were the hardest after my Dad died.  She said that during the day she could keep herself busy with housework, or shopping, or visiting with friends – but when dinner time rolled around it was just her – - – preparing “meals for one” and eating alone.  And then the evening would come – the sun goes down – she would sit in their big living room and turn on the TV and just be incredibly lonely.  So lonely that she stopped watching TV in the big living room and she started to go in her tiny office and turn on the little TV and sit at her desk and write emails, open mail, pay bills, talk on the phone, etc.  She said that helped a lot to pass the time, the tiny room didn’t seem so empty, the sound of the TV (which was much closer to her) kept things lively in the background.  She found herself spending almost all her time in her office whenever she was home.  I think if my Mother could’ve fit her bed in that room she would’ve so she didn’t have to go into “their bedroom” and get hit with all the memories.

She had the same feelings on Sunday’s.  Sunday was always a “family day” – even when they were young and all us kids were home.  Church, lawn-work, Sunday dinner – all as a family.  She hated Sunday’s the most.  She would get up, get ready for church, and then after church she would spend her day at Target – walking around – not looking for anything – not necessarily needing anything – but just to pass the time.  It became a way of life for her.

Things just became too lonely for her and that’s when she decided to move across the street from me and my family and be part of our chaos.   Sometimes the best way to “not be alone” – is to just not be alone.  It helped my Mom deal with the death of my Dad.  And it made me and my siblings feel better that she was not all alone in another state.   It’s a good thing she did move because it was 2 months later when she became very ill.  But that’s another story……..

I know, she says, no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations,…!  Unfortunately, that is not what I meant at all:  I look at my friend and I try to decide what to tell her.  I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes; I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a Mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable; I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking “what if that had been MY child?”; that every plane crash and every house fire will haunt her; that when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die; and however decisive she may be at the office, she will second guess herself constantly as a Mother.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think; no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a Mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub.  And that an urgent call of “MOM!!!” will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment’s hesitation.

I feel I should warn my friend that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by Motherhood.  She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby’s sweet smell.  She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home – just to make sure everything is alright.

I want my friend to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine.  That a five year old boy’s desire to go to the men’s room rather than the women’s at McDonald’s will become a major dilemma.  That right there in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.

Looking at my attractive friend I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy but she will never feel the same about herself.  That her life now so important will be of less value to her once she has a child.  That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years of her own life – not to accomplish her own dreams but to watch her child accomplish theirs.  I want her to know that a caesarian scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

I want my friend to know that her relationship with her husband will change but not in the way she thinks.  I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.  I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my friend could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.  I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children’s future.  I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.  I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time.  I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.

My friends quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes and I say, “You’ll never regret it!”  I reach across the table, squeeze my friend’s hand and offer a silent prayer for her and for me and for all the mere mortal women who stumbled their way into this most wonderful of callings – - being a Mother.

Sheldon had a long life, thankfully.  He died July 7, 2010.  Still breaks my heart every time I think about him.  I miss him so much.  But it was time to put him down for his final rest. There comes a time when the quality of life is not there for our loved pets – and I knew the time was then.

The house was so empty.  The whole family missed him so much.  It was soon after Sheldon’s passing that we knew we had to get another dog.  I told my husband that I was going to go with my son to buy one from the pound to “save a dogs life”.  Eddie and I got to the pound and right up front there were 3 puppies, laying in a circle with their heads on each others butts.  Eddie fell in love.  I told him “Let’s go and see what other dogs are available.”  We walked down the long narrow hallway looking from one side to the other side.  By the time we got back to the front there was a lady putting the dogs in individual small plastic cages.  I said “Oh, good someone adopted them!”  I was trying to show Eddie that was a good thing – but I could see the disappointment on his face.  The lady said “No, no-one has adopted them – they are going to The Last Chance Mission – they have been here for a coup;e weeks already.”  The Last Chance Mission, I thought to myself!  You mean “Slim Chance Mission”.  I quickly said, “No, no – I will take them.”  The lady said “Which one?”  Eddie quickly added “If I can’t have all three – I don’t want any.”  I saw the look on his face.  He continued with “Mom, we can’t let them die.”  I couldn’t believe the words as they were coming out of my mouth – “I will take all three.”   I never saw my son so happy.

We made the trip home with three adorable puppies.  They were all brothers from the same litter.  Two of them are as black as the Ace of Spades on a deck of cards and the other was the exact coloring of Sheldon – sable.  They were named, Rex, Buzz and Woody (after Toy Story).  When we came home my husband was not home yet.  We had the dogs in the house.  My Mother was so excited!!  The other kids were laughing and playing with them.  Then……we all hear the garage door open.  My husband comes upstairs and into the kitchen – “Oh, good you found a dog.”  I said “Yes, yes, we did.”  He saw one of the black ones.  Then another black one came in but I think he thought it was the same one….then Woody came in the sable colored one – and he said “You bought TWO dogs?”  I said “Yes, yes, we did.”  Then all three were in the kitchen – and he looked at me and said “YOU BOUGHT THREE DOGS!!!????”  I said “Yes, yes, I did.”  He asked “Are there any more?”   Eddie said “Well, Ham is also their brother – but someone bought him a couple weeks ago.”  My husband said “Thank heavens for that!”

We have a houseful of dogs and I love it.  I would have 30 dogs if I could care for them properly.  But three is enough.  We love them.  They are so different than Shelly.  They might not be as smart, or as beautiful, but they are our dogs and we love them.  They like to be outside playing together in the yard – whereas Sheldon liked being indoors in the A/C.

I read an article on About.com – “How Owning A Dog or Cat can Reduce Stress.”  The key points they focused on are: Pets can improve your mood.  Pets can control your blood pressure.  Pets encourage you to get out and exercise.  Pets can help with social support.  Pets can ward off loneliness and provide unconditional love.  It was a cute article.  And I believe they are all true.  I love dogs.  If you’ve ever owned one you know the feeling they give you.  I know the day will come when Rex, Buzz and Woody will get older and we will have to put them “to sleep” like we did Sheldon.  But right now, the kids are having a ball with them!!!

When you’re a caregiver you have to be the eyes of the physician and the voice of the patient.  It’s nice to hear advice, hear other stories, relate to others and build relationships.  Wonderful.

It is so important to have your prescription medications organized and at your fingertips (or in the hands of your emergency contact person).  This is important to have before a hospital stay, during a hospital stay, and leaving a hospital stay.

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Then one day a new nurse practitioner came to see my Mom and she made a suggestion – “Flush the catheter at least once a week and change the foley every 2 weeks instead of very 30 days”.  We contacted her urologist and asked if we could try this to see if it works (since nothing else had).  We received an order and the process started.

I am pleased to say my Mother has not had another UTI with ecoli since.  We have been told that any time you have a “foreign body” in your body such as a catheter, it’s common to have some type of infection.  But not to the point of ecoli and definitely not the pain she usually had.   I am simply delighted and continue to pray that the frequent change of catheter and the flushing will continue to keep the UTI with ecoli at bay.

An emergency can change your life in an instant.  Are you prepared with your family’s Personal Health Record?  Emergencies don’t always happen during regular doctor office hours.  If you need help – or if you need to help someone – you need answers and you need them fast.  The ER staff at the hospital does not know you or your loved one.  They need to know your personal health record information in order to give you the correct care fast.  Be prepared.   Help the doctor’s and nurses help you.  Provide them with a printed PHR.

MIMI™ Medical will be the best $34.50 you’ve ever spent (and if you purchase right now – receive a 20% discount).   Something so affordable can literally save your life or the life of a loved one.