I've started and stopped and edited this post about six times so far today. It has been...a day. A week. A month. I'm ready for things to chill out. Last night, I felt like I was going to implode with everything going on but today has been more calm - mostly because there are things I can control and things that I definitely cannot. I'm old enough to know that shitty things happen and I have no choice but to deal with it all. I also know that things that suck ass now sometimes work out for the best in the end. And sometimes things just suck ass. Here's what I've got going on (in no particular order)...

I had a post-op checkup with the oral surgeon today because, well, I still can't feel half of my chin. He believes it's temporary nerve damage but it could go on for as long as two months. I'm going back next Wednesday afternoon for him to check it again. He packed my sockets with clove eugenia (is that redundant?) which helped with some of the pain, but everything is still pretty sore - except, of course, my chin. I can't take the Percocet during the day because that could impair my parenting ability, so I'm only taking ibuprofen for the pain. And I have McCainian jowls - especially on the left side. It's pretty sweet.

I called to schedule the developmental evaluation that Belly's pediatrician recommended yesterday. There was a little confusion when I called, though, and I was bounced between a few people. I started getting the distinct impression that this evaluation was for behavioral concerns, not motor skills as I had been led to believe. After ultimately leaving a voicemail for someone that was supposed to be the person that could help me, I was overcome with a flash flood of worry. I got a call back a couple hours later and it is because of the walking not something else. Now I can go back to just worrying about it like I was before I started making calls.

My mom has had a lump on her collar bone for several weeks now and has done nothing about it. I felt it the other night and it was pretty solid, yet still kind of malleable. I made her call her doctor and schedule an appointment for this morning to get it looked at. Two of my siblings have had Hodgkins lymphoma so we tend to freak pretty hard core when lumps start showing up. I did my best to stay calm but it made me absolutely insane that I couldn't go with her this morning. Her doctor was worried. She sent Mom to get an ultrasound, after which Mom was to discuss next steps with the radiologist. Just in case, the doctor scheduled a CT scan for later this afternoon and a biopsy for tomorrow morning. Great. THAT sounded like no cause for alarm. So Mom had the ultrasound and the radiologist determined that the lump is just muscle mass. Basically, Mom is in desperate need of a massage. Thank effing God. I had already hatched the entire plan of how Mom was going to move in with us, I'd take care of her, etc. I hadn't quite figured out how I was going to run the B&B from Portland, though.

The Charmer. The sellers, whom I believe I've mentioned are completely insane, decided to go out of town for the weekend and think about things, informing our realtor that we'd hear back from them on Monday. What's the effing point in being like that?? It's not our fault the house didn't appraise. We should now be a united team trying to get this transaction done. We can always buy a different house. They're stuck with a house that appraises for less than they want to sell it. I just don't get them. The stress around this deal is two-fold: 1) I want this house and I will be seriously, seriously bummed if we don't get it (although, at this point, we've done everything within our power to make it happen); and 2) I need for the whole thing to not eff up my Costa Rican vacation plans. I need that damn vacation. And if the combination of both one and two were to happen, I might go postal on the seller. I'm so not kidding.

So my stress levels are awfully high today. But then I think about Cyan and it all seems petty and totally manageable. Erika emailed me this morning with a clearer picture of what's happening with  Cyan. The head of the PICU at the hospital where she is says, "Things are not going well. I can’t say much due to privacy issues but a huge miracle is needed and lots of prayers for her and her family." Cyan definitely needs a new heart and has been alive only because of life support. They do not and will not know the extent of the damage to her other organs and her brain until she has a new heart. I simply cannot fathom what her family is going through. This constant straddling of the line of life and death seems so drawn out and immeasurably torturous. My niece, D, is obviously quite upset as she watches one of her best friends hover in limbo. She told me that she cried at school today. Ugh. I wish there was something I could do for SOMEONE involved in this terrible thing. I hate feeling so helpless. 

This is not a pleasant post. No. No, it is not. Let me end it, though, with a beautiful poem that D wrote today entitled Continuous Infusion: Cyan.

You were born with a broken heart

but it won't be hard to fix

Butterfly wings will rip through the back of your arms

and a tree will sprout from between your lips

I'll send an envelope embossed with silver

And in return you can send me a swarm of bees

You were born with a broken heart

but it won't be hard to fix

I'll connect myself to you with a tube

And a series of memories linked like a chain

I'll send a continuous infusion straight from my heart

Blood transfusion full of love and music and a waiting glass house:

Everything you'll need to survive this