It’s been an interesting year this year. . .[1] We started out our year with another mission trip to Africa. We returned to the same place in Zimbabwe – a small rural village in the center of the country that has been hit hard by AIDS, famine, and unemployment. It was great to return to the same place and see so many familiar faces, and it fueled our passion for Africa. Shortly after returning from Africa, Mark pulled his biggest attention-seeking stunt to date by getting hit by a car on the . . .
The Bottom Line
We had our final appointment with my fertility doctor on Friday to discuss the implications that we have now had a third miscarriage. I hate that I'm telling this news, but it's technical, complicated, and confusing, and I'd prefer to deliver the details this way, so forgive me. It's not that I don't want to talk about it - I'd just rather give you the facts this way because it's so hard to explain.Bottom line, the doctor did not give us a lot of hope. In his opinion, the doctor thinks that . . .
Animal Husbandry
My husband went grocery shopping by himself yesterday, for the first time in our eight year marriage. I don't know if that says something about the state our house is in - he must have been pretty desperate to to an actual errand without being prompted. I have been a little busy. So I was overjoyed to hear that I could cross that chore off my list. . . until I got home, and took a little inventory of what had been purchased. My husband's solo jaunt to the grocery store yielded the . . .
Another Loss
I am so devastated. Another miscarriage. . . .
The Thin Red Line
I was going through my usually routine before my period is due - counting the days until I will allow myself to take a pregnancy test. I've spent so much money on these bad boys over the past few months, it is not even funny. So imagine my surprise, when this time - there is a line! Very faint, almost imperceptible, but there, nonetheless. My heart skips a beat, and I have about two minutes of utter joy, until the fear sets in. What if I have another miscarriage? . . .
Hurry Up and Wait
About two months ago Mark was given clearance to start putting weight on his right leg, where the femur is healing from a very serious break. Since that time, he’s been going to physical therapy about three times a week to gain his strength back in both legs, and to start learning to walk independently again. He is still using crutches to walk, but he has gained quite a bit more mobility and is able to put about half his body weight on the right leg. He’s also driving again, and has gone back to . . .
He Can Walk!
Well, not exactly. Mark was given clearance on Thursday to start putting weight on his right leg, where the femur is healing from a very serious break. This was the news we were hoping for. But because his muscles have atrophied over the last two months, he is really only able to put a very small amount of pressure on the leg without having intense pain. Surprisingly, the pain is not from his break, but actually in his knee and ankle joints, and in the ball of his foot from not having been used. . . .
Home Sweet Home
It's been about three weeks since Mark was discharged from the hospital. Hard to believe! We’ve adjusted to life at home, and after some trial and error, have got a system down where Mark is pretty self-sufficient. He’s still not able to do laundry or cook for himself, but I guess we can’t expect too many miracles to come out of this. Hee-hee.About a week after he left the hospital, Mark had a follow-up with the surgeon who operated on his leg. He allowed Mark to take off the brace that was . . .
Life Group at the Hospital . . .
https://rageagainsttheminivan.com/2004/04/life-group-at-hospita.html
Prison Break
If all things go well, Mark should be on his way home by tomorrow afternoon. His therapy is progressing and we both feel confident (in a very relative, shakey, insecure way) that we can handle things on our own. Of course, there is a bit of anxiety, but overwhelmingly we feel relieved to be out of the hospital setting. I spent the day picking up medical equipment and rearranging our bedroom to squeeze in his hospital rent-a-bed. Remember those Craftmatic adjustable bed commercials? Yeah, it's . . .
