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The Chaos Mini-Series

Welcome to my chaotic life of FIVE small children and a traveling husband! This blog is actually a "work in progress" and serves as a loose outline for a humorous non-fiction book I strive to publish by the end of this calendar year. Each entry builds upon the one just prior to it so it is best to begin with Part I. This story begins just four short years ago when a tsunami of unfortunate, tragic and hectic events brutally pounded us one right after another. As my family and I endured and eventually overcame each wave of misfortune, we kept our heads (barely) above water and held high, eyes wide open and hearts on "stand by" as we witnessed new opportunities and blessings emerge from the CHAOS...

Monday, March 29, 2010

The Day I Became a Soldier...Part IV

How could I describe the feelings that swiftly swept through me like clouds on a windy day blowing through the sky? Things happened so quickly that I never had the luxury of time to analyse my situation or ponder my fate. I would feel sad for a split second and then, for example, have one of the movers ask me a question and that would yank me out of my inner chaos. The ironic thing is that I was forced to hold it together from the very beginning because we were in the midst of moving houses and having children so young, we didn’t want to complicate matters and pass along any stress to them. We tried our best to be brave and stoic for them and demonstrate emotional strength. We had to also lead by example for the hysterical nannies for if we were to panic we'd risk losing these helping hands that we needed so very much at this time. Nobody, not even our own family really knew the extent of inner suffering we swallowed as we considered all the possible scenarios and outcomes to such a delicate situation.

Right away it was all about pure action and adrenalin, all at once, at lightning speed. The logistics alone that went into the arrangements for our kids´ care, schooling, emotional well-being and safety in preparation for many weeks away was daunting. How to choose the best surgeon for this monumental challenge of performing a ten hour long brain surgery on a five month pregnant woman while successfully modifying all procedures and medications to ensure the fetus´ survival became Mission Impossible according to most expert opinions. We had a big load to carry and Major League decisions to make.

Thus, from that day forward, June 15, 2006, my husband and I put on our blinders and went into work mode. I became a soldier with a clear mission; take care of the children, the house, police my husband’s mental state, and do whatever necessary to stay alive for them all. Nevertheless, there was no time to wallow. I had to suck it up and take it like a real woman. And believe me, after going through such a frightening experience, it became my personal rites of passage that made me the woman I am today.

Logistically, obtaining the information we needed to make our decisions was a disaster to say the least. We were in limbo, our entire house packed up in a truck and on it’s way to our new home. We had no phone line neither in the old house nor the new residence. Our internet service was scheduled to be installed three days later. We didn’t even have local television programming and therefore had little contact with the outside world. Our newspaper was not even scheduled to arrive until days later. (Welcome to the Third World!) Our cell phones, our only form of communication with the outside world, were ringing off the hooks from all four corners of the globe.

People in the community were coming in droves to our new home to see me and I realize now, to say their good-byes. Some friends never stopped by and seemed to just avoid the entire situation. Some offered immediately to help take care of our children, do our food shopping, make us meals, pay the nannies, recommend doctors, hospitals, fence in the giant pool that we had not yet properly secured prior to move-in. (We figured we’d have time to take care of it once moved in. This was a priority as the children were very young, only one knew how to swim, and the nannies that would be caring for them didn't know how to swim either!)

Some friends chose to loan us their own domestic worker for a day or two to help lift and unpack heavy boxes. It was like being on the inside of a large factory watching the unending movement, activity and interactions between so many people all working together. Workers came and went, visitors stopped by (to pay their respects), some people came to inspect, bring food, information, news, gifts, blessings, motivational books, etc. This went one for five perpetual days, all day and all night. I was a stoic robot (now not just walking like one, but absent of feeling and emotion toward my own destiny.) I was so consumed by my busy life that I was unintentionally coerced into a state of denial and didn’t even notice that I was in death’s relentless grip...

To Be Continued...

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