Monday, June 21, 2010

Just a bunch of thoughts and a tummy ache.

(Packing up and heading home)

I left the burn unit where I lived in room 11 for the most part of my 1 month stay.
I have a hate/love relationship with it there.
But when I walk the halls (searching for any amount of exercise)I feel loved.
I feel so accepted. I actually was scared to come back home into the "real world" where people stare at me and wonder.
I have looked bad, and then worse during this big ordeal,
and never once did I feel it in the hospital. And if I did, it never lasted.
Plus there are no mirrors in the burn unit. (so I never knew what I looked like)
Nothing like I do now.
My sweet children are not sure what to make of my new chin and horrific scaring.
This morning I had a rendezvous bout with a upset stomach. I am not kidding. I have had some pretty crappy stomach aches and I have had 3 natural childbirths and even those couldn't compare with today's episode. And I never got relief.
For a complete 30 minutes.
I begged Mr. Nielson to kill me. (but not really, mom)
My kids stood in the background frightened.
I am sure my in-laws think I am a drama mama.
I cried and Mr. Nielson picked me up and off we went for the car to the hospital.
I saw myself in the burn unit hooked up to all the machines including a feeding tube and then I threw up- everywhere. I stood in the 1 million degree heat outside with little fire ants biting my toes and heaved over and over again on my in-laws front lawn.
It was sweet.
I felt better. But not completely.
I napped for 3 hours. I am a mess.
And then the thoughts started to flood my mind.
I missed my house in Utah.
Reports from home say all the flowers I planted in my front lawn are up and beautiful.
I miss the mountains.
I miss my sisters and parents.
I miss everyone there...even the grumpy neighbors and their new wheelchair access in the front.
I thought about my parents moving to St. Louis. I have got to get better and home before they leave. All I want to do is climb in between them in bed and let my Dad's fan blow on us while he passes out a taffy or two from his nightstand and Mom rubs my back.
This year will be the last one for me in my twenties.
My 29th birthday is approaching.
Am I ready for 30?
And finally, tonight when I kissed my boys in bed,
Ollie asked me where I got the Olives today.
I couldn't understand what he was talking about. Olives? What? I didn't eat any olives today.
I thought long and hard and saw his confusion mixed with drowsiness,
and finally his little eyes closed.
"Ollie" I said "Where did you see me eating olives?"
"It was in your throw-up"
I startled him as I laughed out loud.
"Honey, those were blueberries" I told him
"Oh" he said, and just like that went off to dreamland.
This is what is keeping me sane.