Just Feelin' a Little Old

Nothing like your husband having a heart attack and your son graduating from high school to bring on the melancholy. Brent is getting back on his feet and starting to do more and more. He went back to work for the full day today--a big step! I told him there is no shame in taking off early if he needs to come home to rest, but he ignored me. We saw a new doctor yesterday that we liked a lot better, and he recommended a vegetarian, or at least a low fat, diet. Since my already skinny husband has dropped ten pounds in the last week, we'll go for the low fat diet. He really can't afford to lose any more weight.

The good news is that he was able to attend Dalin's graduation last Saturday. The graduation ceremony was great except for the inspirational/motivational speaker who sounded like she had just been on the net and googled "motivational phrases." It could only have been worse if she had made several grammatical errors--OH WAIT! She did! Between the grammatical blunders and cliches, it was a pretty poor speech, made entertaining only by my brother Cash offering a running critical analysis in the seat behind me. The students who spoke did fine, and my son was incredibly handsome in his cap and gown. When he walked across the stage to receive his diploma, it struck me that he and I were at one of those major life crossroads. The difference is, though, that he is excited and looking forward to a new and wonderful future, and I'm sad and looking back at a child's life that has gone by too quickly. Sigh. So indulge me a moment while I sound like that motivational speaker and say, enjoy every minute. I so wish I had enjoyed Dalin's childhood the way I am enjoying Jensen's. I wish my eldest child had come with an instruction manual that said not to worry so much about reading and writing, tantrums and sleeping all night, but rather to smile at the little lisps and backwards letters and relish the rocking all night and the little taps on the shoulder that jolt you from your sleep. Oh well. I can only learn and be thankful for the last eighteen years.

In more Gunnell news, my talented daughter Cassie found out a couple of weeks ago that she made the high school's top choir, Choral Edition. She will be a junior next year, and she also auditioned and was selected for the Actors Ensemble. I'm not sure what that means, but there are only twelve actors selected, and she was thrilled to have made it. She also placed fifth in the district in pole vault. I finally got to see her vault at the district meet, and I had to hold my breath every time! All I could see was my bird-boned daughter flying through the air at the end of a pole and picture those arms bent at angles they shouldn't be. She was ok, though. Whew.

Shaina sped her way to second place at District in the 100 and 200 meter races, and she also placed third in the triple jump and sixth in the long jump. Brent has his runner!! Since Shaina had never competed in either jumping event, she was pretty excited about those ribbons. She also found out that she gets her braces off in six weeks, three months early. It has been a good month for Shaina!

All I know is that having these big kids accomplishing all these big things makes me feel old. But old is not always a bad thing, I guess, not when it means that I have spent that last several years with a houseful of such crazy wonderful people. What a blessing!

Tender Mercies

I wrote about the whole heart attack experience in the post after this one, so if you don't know the details of it, you may want to read that post first. Along with the trauma of the weekend, we experienced some sweet moments when we realized that the hand of God was in our lives. We had several of those "tender mercies" that Elder Bednar spoke of in a conference talk a while back. Here are a few:

--In a last-minute decision, I asked Jared and Maren to take Jensen with them to my mom's house after we went skiing. I can't imagine what she would have gone through had she been at home to see her dad suffering like he was and to see firemen and paramedics taking him away.

--I had planned on going to my mom's with Jared and Maren and having Brent bring the girls to mom's after school. I decided instead to stay home and wait for them so Brent could get ready for the father/son's outing that night. If I hadn't done that, Brent would have been home alone when he had his heart attack.

--Brent had only been home from skiing for about 45 minutes when he had the heart attack. Who knows what would have happened if we had still been on the lake.

--Dalin came home from school earlier than he usually does--a blessing for me because he was there to hold and support me and go with me to the hospital. He is an incredible young man.

--There was one paramedic, a woman, who kept trying to convince the others that Brent was indeed having a heart attack. She persisted, got him hooked up to an EKG in the ambulance, and finally convinced the others. I need to find out her name.

--The first cardiologist went off call and took off right after Brent started having the second attack symptoms. If he had stayed, who knows how long his pride would have let the attack go on while telling us all it was post-surgical pain.

--The second cardiologist, the one that we really liked, happened to be here from Seattle doing weekend call. He flies here whenever there are no cardiologists to cover weekends. Thank goodness he was here to take Brent back to surgery for the second procedure. Thanks, Dr. Angelo Ferraro.

--Brent's heart suffered no permanent damage from what the docs can tell so far.

I know there are others, but my brain isn't completely back to full function yet. I'll add others as soon as I remember them. Of course, don't hold your breath. . . .

A Scary Weekend

As most of you know, we had quite an eventful weekend at our house. Since many of you got details second or third hand, I'll fill in the blanks. If you don't want to read the whole thing, just skip on down to the last two paragraphs. I don't blame you, really. It's a long story. I just need to get it recorded before the details become fuzzy.

Friday morning my brother Cash and son Spencer, my brother Jared, wife Maren, and two boys got here to our house at around 9:00 a.m. to go skiing with Brent, Jensen, and me. It was the first absolutely gorgeous and warm day we've had, so we had a blast on the lake until 1:30 p.m. Brent skiied hard and drove the boat, and he also took the little kids out on the taco tube and rescued them all when the tube flipped. It was a fantastic way to start the summer. When we got home, Brent and my brothers were taking care of the boat, and Brent says it was then that he started feeling weakness in his arms, but he attributed it to some serious waterskiing. Everyone left then except me and Brent (Jared took Jensen), and Brent went upstairs to shower. At about 2:40 p.m., I heard him calling for me, so I went upstairs. His voice wasn't urgent, so I wasn't hurrying, but I did go right up.

I went in the bedroom and found him hunched over the bed with his forehead and arms resting on the edge of the bed. He was writhing around and complaining of severe pain in his middle back and numbness and tingling in both arms. I touched him and found that he was drenched in sweat. I was trying to get him to tell me what was going on, and at first he said he thought he had pulled a muscle in his back, but I don't think that's what he really thought. About a minute later, he was saying that something was really wrong and that he was in trouble. He also said that he was going to be sick. I tried to get him to lie down, but he complained that it was worse lying down, and he was in too much pain by then to move anyway. By then he was short of breath and lightheaded, and I was scared because I was pretty sure about what was happening. I tried to get him to let me call 911, but he just wanted me to try to drive him to the ER. I knew there was no way I could a) get him down the stairs alone, or b) get him to the hospital fast enough, so I went ahead and called 911. I have never called 911 before, but by then it's like you're living in an alternate universe and you just do what you have to do even though you're not sure it's you doing it.

The fire truck arrived five minutes later, during which time I had called Jared to tell him what was going on. The firemen were getting a history from me and trying to make Brent comfortable, but there was nothing that was helping. He was throwing up by then (I had gotten him a bowl before I called 911. There is no throwing up in the new house!), and a little incoherent. He kept asking for nitroglycerin and the firemen kept telling him they didn't have any. The paramedics arrived a couple minutes later, and based on the fact that he had been outside all morning, they kept trying to convince us that he was just dehydrated and hyperventilating. No matter how many times Brent told them he was really in trouble and no matter how many times I told them he had a family history of heart problems, they would not even consider heart attack. They told me to meet them at the podunk Caldwell hospital where they would rehydrate him and send him on his merry way.

They loaded him in the ambulance and I went to the car. About ten minutes later, they were still in the driveway and I was getting out of the car to see what was up when Dalin drove up from school. I can only imagine his panic when he came home to find an ambulance in the driveway and me in the street looking awful. I blathered on about what happened, and he ran to the back of the ambulance. We stood there, him basically keeping me up while I sobbed. The paramedic finally came out and told us they had determined Brent had had a "cardiac episode," so they were taking him to the podunk + cardiac hospital in Nampa. They took off, and Dalin and I grabbed some stuff and headed to the hospital.

By the time I got there, my mom and Jared were already there, and I was told Brent was in the "cath lab" having a procedure. We waited for a little over an hour for the doctor to come out and tell us that Brent's right coronary artery had been completely blocked, no blood flow at all, so he had inserted a stent into the vessel to clear it out. He said Brent was lucky to be alive, but that because he had gotten to the hospital quickly, his heart probably wouldn't suffer too much permanent damage. Dalin and I went back to his room in ICU where within 5 minutes he started complaining of the same type of pain and other symptoms. None of the staff seemed to be too concerned as they slowly moved around the room, but Brent got more and more distressed and was in a lot of pain. The doc kept telling me it was "post-surgical pain and discomfort," promising me he was just fine, and telling the nurse to give him more IV pain meds. Dalin and I went back out to the waiting area because they said Brent needed to rest and calm down. We hadn't heard anything more for an hour when a nurse finally came in the waiting room asking for me to sign some papers because Brent's latest EKG showed that he needed to be taken back into the cath lab to see what was going on. The techs rolled his bed by the waiting room to take him to the lab, and that was the first time the girls got to see him. They were both understandably very upset seeing him like that, and the next hour and a half were torture.

Finally, a different cardiologist came in to the waiting room to talk with us. He said that the stent the first doc had put in was too small and that blood clots had formed around and in it, completely blocking it again--another heart attack. He had cleared out the stent and expanded it during another angiogram, so Brent was out of pain and headed back to his room. I stayed at the hospital with him Friday night (and Saturday), and my mom took the kids to her house. Saturday brought a complication (a pseudoaneurysm) with the catheter site in his groin, causing him a lot of pain, so he was on massive pain meds and out of it most of the day. Sunday was much better. Brent was still uncomfortable and tired easily, but he got out of bed for the first time and was able to visit with people who came to check on him. Monday morning the doc said he could go home, so we got out as soon as we could, straight from ICU. YEAH!

So many of our friends and family came to visit us at the hospital, and many others have called and sent cards. Brent's parents have kept in close contact and offered support from afar. We have really appreciated everyone's love and support and the prayers that were offered for us. I have some amazing friends here in the valley, and I depend on them for emotional, and sometimes physical, support. My dearest friend, Laurie, was at my house to tell the girls when they got home on Friday what had happened and to take them to the hospital. She was at the hospital with me much of the weekend for support, even making an 11:30 p.m. run to my house for my blanket and pillow and such. Thank you to my oldest and best friends Jen, Liz, Julie, and Corla for all of their love, help, and keeping me sane, and thanks to new friends Linda, Christy, and Nancy for the many things they have done to help us. My brothers and wives are amazing, and they love and treat Brent like he was blood-related to them. I adore them. And of course, my mom saves me. There are events and crises in everyone's life that are made easier only with the love and shoulder of a mom. When I got to the hospital on Friday and she was there waiting for me, I sobbed like a little child in her arms. Thank you, mom. I love you, and we couldn't have gotten through this without you.

Brent's prognosis is good. He should be back to regular activity in about six weeks. We are so lucky. The doctors say that his heart attack was largely due to genetics, and they didn't really give us much information on preventing another (we are looking for a new doctor, by the way). The whole weekend and since, I have thought back on the last almost 22 years and marveled that such a man has stuck with me. Brent is an amazing husband and father, and we will be hardpressed to ever take him for granted. I look forward to eternity.

What a Good Sport

My husband is such a good sport. I am lucky to be married to a man who would indulge me to the point that he would dress like this and take me to a masquerade ball. Colin Firth has nothin' on this guy: I got tickets for a ball sponsored by the Caldwell Center for the Arts, and I asked Brent if he would take me. He hemmed and hawed and never really gave a definitive answer, mainly because he was planning on waterskiing that day and didn't want to cut it short to get dressed in Renaissance clothes and mingle with a bunch of artsy people he didn't know. I must have thrown a big enough fit, though, because he relented and rented a costume, and since the boat broke down early in the boating trip (fate, maybe?), he decided he would escort me to the ball. (I couldn't convince him to wear a mask, though. But I didn't push too hard. One has to pick one's battles.)

We arrived and found that most of the people there had gone all out, so we weren't the only ones dressed up. There were four rooms with fine art displays--paintings, pottery, thrown glass, photography, beadwork--and the halls were lined with paintings. Most of them were pretty good, although I have to say that I wouldn't pay $3,400 for a huge painting of a chrysallis (a cocoon that large is really very scary). We did have to avert our eyes a few times, however, since one of the artists (we met her--an older lady who reminds me of the "dorm mom" on the sitcom The Facts of Life) seems to "specialize" in nudes, at least nude rear-ends. The event organizers had arranged for a couple of chamber orchestras to be playing most of the time, there were a couple of classical ballet performances, a couple of classical vocal performances, and a Renaissance ballroom dance lesson. I felt very Pride and Prejudice-like, and Brent participated in everything. He is so great!

All of this might have been even more enjoyable if we could have sat and sipped a soda or ice water or something, but alas, there was nothing to drink but alcoholic beverages, so my wonderful husband went to Albertsons in his get-up and bought some bottles of water for us and our friends Jared and Christy Nye (pictured above). He claims to have gotten a lot of compliments on his waistcot. I don't imagine the cashiers at Albertsons in Caldwell see too many guys with lace hanging out of their golden sleeves. . . . .Overall, it was a terrific date and nice change from dinner and/or a movie.

And speaking of good-looking Gunnell men, here is Dalin in his tux for prom. I don't have a picture of him with his date because I gave birth to a male child. Explanation: he didn't want to look dumb taking pictures with the camera I sent with him. After all, the other guys weren't taking pictures--geez! Evidently the girls took lots of pictures, so as soon as I can get my digital hands on some of them, I'll get them posted.

And as a postscript for those who are interested, Cassie's choir got a superior rating at festival last week, earning the third highest score from the judges. She auditioned for the advanced upperclass choirs last week. Shaina took first in the 100m and second in the 200m and 400m this week, which is pretty great considering it's the first time she has ever run the 400 and she beat her teammate's fastest time by 5 seconds. She suffered a pretty severe muscle strain in the 200, though, so she is resting it this week. Her coach is panicked and is praying she will be able to compete in the district meet this week.

I'll Be Back

My blogging friends and family, don't give up on me. I actually composed a post two weeks ago about a great date Brent and I had, but I haven't had a second to upload pictures, and now I'm heavy into Musettes concert weekend. I love you all, and I'll get back to regular updates as soon as this concert is over, I think. . . .