Coma Questions

Back in May, I offered to answer any coma questions.

Because I know if I knew someone who had been in a coma and I had never been in a coma myself, I would be very nosey interested and ask lots of questions.

For your reading pleasure, here are some coma questions I’ve been asked. I remember very little so most of my answers are what PhilBillPaul or my mom has told me…

Could you see, or are your eyes even open, but were not able to respond?

My eyes were closed. PhilBillPaul was very concerned that they had restraints on me to keep me still. He knew that I am claustrophobic and hate to be pinned down.

I might be known to freak out if I get tangled in the sheets at night.

Did you experience pain, or did your body go into shock and make you numb?

At the scene of the accident I had a grand mal seizure and I stopped breathing on the helicopter en route to the hospital. PhilBillPaul says I never appeared to be in pain.

I thought maybe they would have been poking the soles of my feet or my limbs but PhilBillPaul says they didn’t (or he wasn’t paying attention which is more likely).

Or I watch too much TV.

Could you hear people talking to each other and to you?

I do not remember hearing anyone even though someone was always with me, talking to me and/or playing music.

I do know that they made a tape of my friend talking to me and played it in my room. She was the other passenger and she was taken by ambulance to the another hospital. My mom was worried that I might think she died since she wasn’t able to come to the hospital and talk to me because she was being treated for her own injuries.

I still have that tape locked away in a trunk.

Could you smell certain foods, etc.?

I have a nose like a bloodhound and maybe the coma heightened my sense of smell? Oh wait, I’m suppose to be answering questions, not asking them.

I can literally tell you where and what PhilBillPaul had for lunch by the smell of his clothes and skin. Most perfume and floral or musk scents are migraine triggers.

But I don’t remember smelling anything in particular at the hospital.

Were you told to squeeze someone’s hand, and were you able to do it, or did you want to and couldn’t?

I did not respond to anything or anyone while in the coma. I woke up in the night or very early morning and the hospital called PhilBillPaul and told him I was awake and trying to talk.

His biggest fear was that I would not remember him or that we were married because we had only been married for seven months.

Lucky him, I remembered.

Did you have a “near-death experience”?
Did you see anything like what is referred to as an afterlife?
Did you see Christ/God?

All variations of above question are what I refer to as “the white light” question. Again, probably too much TV on my part.

I didn’t see or hear anything. I don’t remember feeling like I was going to die. Nor do I remember fighting to stay alive.

There is just a big blank space in my life in that entire month of June. And a lot of memory loss both before and after the accident that friends and family tirelessly help me remember when I ask a million questions.

Did you feel emotions?

Only after I woke up.

I still remember the utter frustration of not being able to say the word my brain was thinking. Several months of speech therapy helped with this.

I have a notebook I wrote in for months after the crash that is still hard to believe is my handwriting. My mom saved an envelope I insisting on addressing to my dad for Father’s Day.

Those things are also locked away the trunk.

Do you remember the accident crash?

I’ve always made a conscious effort to call it “the crash” instead of accident. Because accident infers that it was unintentional or caused by chance or luck. The slogan M.A.D.D. used shortly after our crash, “Don’t Call Me Lucky” really stuck with me. It’s not that I’m not thankful that I survived. I am. I promise. I am grateful beyond words. But drinking and driving is intentional and hurts innocent people every single day. Okay, off my soapbox and back to the question.

I barely even remember going to the movie with PhilBillPaul that night. I have very foggy memories of being at a house and playing a computer game at the house we had driven to let two dogs out.

Do you have flashbacks?

When I am on a two-lane road at night, I sometimes have serious anxiety when an oncoming car approaches. I believe this is some sort of residual memory from that moment when those blinding headlights came out of nowhere and I threw my hands up and let out a blood-curdling scream. That is the memory that has been described to me by my friend and PhilBillPaul in the split second before the drunk driver hit us.

I have learned to breathe and focus on the car I’m driving and not fix my eyes on the oncoming headlights.

Alrighty then, how’s that for some fascinating Q & A? If you’ve felt shy up until now and wanted to ask something that I didn’t answer, jump right in and ask. Just use the comment box to leave a question or contact me via email!

Or if you’ve been in a coma and want to share your experience, please do. I’d love to hear because I really am nosey interested!

On Wednesday I will share something really, really good that came from the crash and the coma…

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Flexible Friday #12 Back to School

It’s Flexible Friday and I decided to provide you with flexible choices for your reading pleasure.

Because as I like to remind my friends…

I am the most flexible one in the group!

If you like choices, be sure to read all the way to the end. If not, skim and move on.

For those of you who really don’t care about my basement renovation, flood, fire, when the locusts are coming or why I take Xanax, I totally understand.

So I provide you with this little funny instead…

Even though Georgia started school in August, I realize for many parts of the country, this was the first week of school. Kind of old-fashioned. After Labor Day. The way I remember it…

Close to Home Back to School cartoon

Close To Home© John McPherson

Anybody think their kid has been traded like this?

I’m pretty sure Scary Baby was on the trading table this year. She thinks a neighbor teacher traded her. No hard feelings…I really can’t blame her…in case she ever reads the blog. ;)

If you are one of the very few gluttons who still want to read about the fire and subsequent medicated moment, you have a choice and can click either or both of the links below:

Flood, Fire & Locusts, Part Three

Flood, Fire & Locusts, Part Four

These will not show up as regular posts so this is the private and kind of secret entrance to read “the rest of the story.”

Have a wonderful weekend!

The End

THE END.

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Flood, Fire & Locusts, Part Two

Get a soda, a snack, dessert, a pillow for a short nap…you may find you need all those items to get through Part Two.

I did.

It was time consuming to get the pictures together but the flood and fire story just isn’t complete without them.

Or maybe this just serves as the unfinished scrapbook pages for our family album that I never got around to and the kids can print this post. Oh good, I’m feeling productive now.

We had several basement water companies come out and give estimates on systems that would require them to break the concrete floor around the foundation of the house and install pipes to funnel the water outside.

This stressed PhilBillPaul as his logical mind insisted that letting the water come into the house and then draining it back out was not an acceptable solution.

I try hard not to participate in these home project decisions. I’m not qualified. Mostly because it doesn’t matter what I say, PhilBillPaul always does the opposite.

I moved on and pretended the water would never come back if it never rained hard in Georgia again. Because sometimes living in the Land of Denial is the safest place to live.

We re-painted the pink and purple basement that flooded twice and turned it into a workshop space for my homebased business.

We always enlist the manual labor force who live at our house.

basementRLpaint

FYI – six and seven year-old children can paint the lower walls.

As long as you’re not too picky about the quality of their work.

Luckily, I’m not. Because I hate to paint.

The workshop area was very functional and I used it two days a month and then it reverted back to a play room for the kids.

basementcrop

Then it rained really hard again in Georgia on two more separate occasions. Which meant two more “episodes” with wet carpet, shop vac water removal and carpet cleaning. I stayed upstairs.

We had a few dry years. Very exciting times.

But in 2006, a huge storm blew through and I smelled the wet carpet and mold from upstairs. I was not happy. I took matters into my own hands. I think I had been very patient for approximately 12 years with a basement flood occurring every 3 years or so.

A wonderful “good ‘ole boy” from a basement water company came and did an inspection and invited me outside to show me why the basement kept flooding. He said he could sell me a basement drainage system for several thousand dollars but he’d rather show me the real cause which had nothing to do with our foundation.

Excellent. I love an honest business man. So he pointed up to the chimney and said he could guarantee that the flashing around the chimney had never been installed properly and the water was running straight down the house and seeping into the basement.

Improper gutter installation and drainage were the culprits all these years and now we could add rotted siding to our list of home repairs.

But at least it felt like we were making progress! Let’s get this fixed. I hired people for the high ladder work because even though Mr. Handy loves to fix everything himself, he is afraid of heights which worked to my advantage. While others are envious of PhilBillPaul’s handyman skills, I actually would prefer to hire someone for many household jobs It causes a little ton of marital strife.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, we decided to go crazy and update the basement one last time to create an inviting environment for our teenagers. We want to be the house that we welcome their friends to and they will hang out here because we’re fun parents like that.

Okay, that ‘s not true–we just want to keep an eye on everyone and know what they’re doing and make unannounced visits to the basement at random times.

So we researched and planned a new look for the basement with our number one priority to get that disgusting carpet out of our house and replace it with some other kind of flooring.

If you don’t already know this, options in floor covering with concrete are limited. And I couldn’t help but think, “What if it floods again?” I refused to put carpet anywhere in my house ever.

As the work began, PhilBillPaul uncovered a moldy wall in the guest bedroom that had been hidden by a piece of furniture.

I FREAKED OUT.

I ranted. I screamed. I cried. I just knew it. Our house was full of mold. It’s why I have migraines. It’s why anybody ever got a cold. It’s why I can’t sleep. The mold was going to send me to The Black Hole before I even knew I was going there.

WE MUST GET THE MOLD OUT OF OUR HOUSE.

So the Basement Renovation of the summer of 2006 began…

Bsmt Renovation 1

Thankfully, the manual labor force was older and stronger so I became the General Contractor and supervised the work crew. Because I am an excellent supervisor.

Unfortunately, Mr. Handy discovered that the mold extended all the way across the entire concrete block wall and was not contained in a small area in the guest room.

Bsmt Renovation 2

Did I mention that PhilBillPaul HATES to do drywall work? Oh yeah, this was going to be a long, hot summer…

As you can see it’s hard to summarize 15 years of flood and subsequent fire into a short post.

Friday I promise I’ll finish the fire story and show you what our basement looks like now. And finally answer why I took Xanax two weeks ago on Thursday.

For goodness sake, it has taken me way too long to get to the point but I hope you understand why…

To be continued…

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Flood, Fire & Locusts, Part One

They’re coming. The Locusts.

They should be here any time and I’ve told PhilBillPaul we should start running now and maybe we can get a head start.

For any of you reading my blog and thinking everything in my life is hunkey dorey and I have “my personal thing” together, let me remind you of this or this or this or this.

Just want to keep the perspective. Especially for any new readers out there.

The only thing is – my tribulations and woes seem to make everyone laugh and I’m thankful for that, really I am. If I couldn’t laugh, I think I would have really checked out of life a long time ago!

You know that Apartment Guide I found in my car that the darling twin daughters have taken over and think is their car? They might be on to something.

Apartment living really does have its perks. As in, “Hello, maintenance? Can you come over to #123 and fix my…”

Home ownership is not all what it is cracked up to be.

We’ve had our share of house mishaps that sometimes make me want to find an apartment. I’ve had my share of marital strife that has also made me want to find a crappy little apartment.

I know many of you have been patiently waiting for the Xanax story and I like to keep my promises.

Here is the beginning of the story of just ONE part of our house that continues to depress, stress and has actually almost killed us.

Our Basement

It started out as an exciting thing to have. Living in basement-free Florida for six years but growing up in the Midwest made PhilBillPaul and I long for a basement which gives you more storage and the potential for more living space.

Our basement started out as many people’s basements do…unfinished.

basement1

Mr. Handy a.k.a. PhilBillPaul and his father finished our basement the summer the girls turned one. I had determined I would need a safe place for them to be if I needed to do anything um, like go to the bathroom, while I was at home taking care of them all day. Some of you may have experienced using the bathroom with the door open and three toddlers being with you at your feet. It’s one of those “this cannot be my life” moments.

I knew I would have to tackle this if I took them all out in public. And I did.

We all crammed into the handicapped stall and believe me, if there was ever a time in my life that I qualified for rights to the handicapped stall it was from 1991-1994 and you saw me at the mall with my darling toddlers.

But I dreamed of a safe place I could put them so that I could use the bathroom or take a shower with a little bit of privacy and without having to do it at 5:00 a.m. before they all started waking up.

The finished basement of 1992 was a thing of beauty.

basementpinkpurple

Note the plugs are high on the wall safe from toddler fingers and the temptation to stick metal objects in them. I am all about safety.

Tell me you’re not digging those purple and pink walls with a splash of teal? Hard to believe but I actually found matching toy boxes after we painted!

Many fond memories were made in the basement where those cute little twins were able to sweetly play with baby dolls and bugles…

basementWizzybaby

She has always been tender-hearted and loving.

basementRLbugle

This one has always been musical even though we have stifled her development by never enrolling her in any music lessons.

basementRLtoybox

She is also a climber which started early and led to much trouble. This is clear evidence as to why we’ve always called her our circus baby.

Every once in a while Wizzy would get the upper hand on that bully twin, Roger Leroy.

basementgirls

Excellent takedown Wizzy!

basementnapping

Basement play was absolutely exhausting.

Or mom and The Grunter just forgot about us and we finally fell asleep…lonely and neglected.

You decide.

All in all, our basement was a lovely, much-used gathering place for our kids, their friends, many birthday parties and loads of fun.

Until it flooded.

Once you experience the smell of wet carpet pad, ruined furniture and mold, you start thinking about apartments.

Please also know that I realize that a little water damage in my basement is so trivial in comparison to what the hurricane and flood victims must suffer through.

I really do try to keep my insignificant basement flood in perspective.

Even when it happened FOUR times over five years.

I’ll tell you how we finally fixed the water problem and about the fire on Wednesday…

To be continued…

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