Oh what a night.

After watching Man vs. Wild with Will Ferrell last night,

 Mr. Nielson tucked me into bed.

It was nice to laugh.

It was nice to have my pain under control, too. 

I know just when I need my pain meds and when I stay on top of it

I am so much happier. 

My happiness turned to disgust when I caught a whiff of something else.

It was Jimmy!

He smelled horrible.

The worse part was that he was asleep in front of our floor box fan

(whom we call "the mayor") which blew directly to our bed.

 I'd estimate about every 3 minutes I would hear this

 pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst sound.

  It was unmistakably a dog toot.

  Immediately after that dreaded sound, the fan would

 carry the stench directly to our bed

where I would gasp and then almost pass out.

Mr. Nielson had long since fallen asleep and was not affected.

The smell lasted far too long and was preventing me from falling asleep.

When I couldn't take it any longer I nudged Mr. Nielson

 and asked (begged) him to please take Jimmy outside.

Since I was strapped to about 40 different apparatuses for my hands

and a mask over my face, getting out of bed for me really is not really an option.

Mr. Nielson mumbled and pulled himself out of bed to let Jimmy out. 

This is where the story gets really good.

And by good, I don't mean good, I mean really bad.

After finally coaxing Jimmy out of the room, he stepped on a stinky diaper

 that Jimmy had dug out of the garbage and tore all over the kitchen rug.

(Who put a stinky diaper in the inside kitchen anyway???

I can get to the bottom of that tomorrow.)

Mr. Nielson was not happy about having poop on his feet 

so in his madness he kicked Jimmy outside slamming the back door behind him.

After he cleaned up his feet, he came back to bed.

 I could tell he was in a pretty bad mood, and understandably so.   

I pretended I was asleep. 

For the next 45 minutes, while Jimmy was being punished outside, 

he barked and barked as loud as he could. 

I was dying. I looked over at Christian who was again peaceful sleeping

and woke him up. I had to. 

"Christian?" I calmly said,  "Jimmy is barking really loud."

After about twenty minutes of persuading Mr. Nielson to bring Jimmy back

inside and in a frustrating rage he pushed the covers off

and huffed out of our cozy bed.  I knew he wasn't mad at me, just the situation.

He got up only to discover a little blob of

 poop on the rug that he hadn't seen the first time he cleaned the diaper mess.

"What the-...no no, no!" I heard him say.

With Jimmy barking outside at 1:30 in the morning, poop (still) on the rug,

 he went into the bathroom for cleaning supplies then

like a movie, tripped on the bathroom stool. 

Mr. Nielson picked up the stool and threw it into the laundry room. 

"OUCH!"

I proceeded to hear Mr. Nielson spray, scrub, 

and then vacuum all while Jimmy barked outside

and I pretended I was asleep.

 I love my Mr. Nielson!

Becoming Stephanie

My appointment at the Burn Clinic today was actually quite eventful. The good news just kept coming. Dr. Carla said everything was "pretty good" and Walter, (who looks just like Lance Armstrong) and my PT, said he was very impressed by my burns. I mean, not that my burns are impressive but you know, well, you know what I mean. The coloring looks good and pink. Ann, my therapist said she could see a significant difference in my countenance, and I was happy. Mr. Nielson took a day off and went fishing with my brothers. I was so happy to release him from his duties caring for all of us for some fun in nature. I missed him at my side though-especially since today was a "happy consult". My mom came with me instead. We talked about angels, family, children's names, hope, and other things Mom's and daughters talk about including how I hurt when I wake up in the morning. Cindy (my mom) asked me when I was going to post a picture of me here on my blog. I said never. NO WAY.

 But I will.

So here are my eyes.

 

I get to create a new "me" whatever that entails. It hasn't been easy having to reinvent myself. I have (and still do) mourn for Stephanie. Where did she go? Now I look in the mirror and see someone else, but it's still me. It's...well...weird. I have to learn to be me again. I have to accept and hope. And I should stop saying "should" and replace that with "get". I GET to have a second chance at life. I get to enjoy my children even if my fingers don't work. I get to change the way I look at life and how I can somehow help someone else in need. And best of all, I get to have my husband. He is still him and I am still me and we still can have and create the same love we had before.

 I may be a little different Stephanie, but it's still me. What an honor.

Peonies

Katie came to my door early this afternoon carrying a beautiful bouquet of peonies from her backyard,  It was instant happiness. She told me she was on her way for an afternoon of basking in the sun and swimming with her kids.  I was jealous.  My doctors told me to stay away from the sun for almost 2 years. That's crap! That's all I will say about that. This morning, like every morning I lay in bed waiting for the pain to subside enough to get my bones moving. (God bless pain meds).  As I wait, I anticipate the sun to grace her beauty and warm through my window. This morning the sun poked her head over the mountain at approximately 8:34. (I asked Mr. Nielson the time) Welcome, sun, welcome day.

{Here is Mr. Nielson upon his arrival from the hospital. He certainly is enjoying the sun. photo: Chup}

My personal yoga instructor, Laura arrived this morning for our daily session. My body is finding her way back. Scar tissue has really invaded most of the 83% of my body that was burned. Twisting and moving hurt so good. After the session, Mr. Nielson whipped on his Wranglers and made me toast with an egg. He called it his cowboy-style egg. He still is my personal cowboy. A visit from my Aunt Karen, my mom's oldest sister cheered me up considerably. We talked about a plan to go to visit her on Whidbey Island in Washington. I am secretly hoping that a waterfront home will magically come up for sale next door and I will somehow talk Mr. Nielson into buying it for me with all that magical money we will have after finding it buried in a pirate chest in the sand. And then I will plant my own peonies in the backyard.