Who cares about the what ifs? .... Well, I guess I do....

Jason's gonna kill me. He is such a private guy.  He doesn't share a whole lot and he has nothing to do with the internet.  But he married me.  The woman who has no filter or pause between her brain and mouth.

First off, let me start this by saying I am NOT, in any way, shape, or form, looking for any amount of sympathy with this post.  I guess I turned here because when I'm scared shitless, I turn to my husband and since it's my husband that has me scared, I turned to here.... (and my mom and stepmom), but that's it....

You've got to know a little bit about Jason. He can push through damn near anything.  It doesn't matter if he is sick.... fever.... puking his intestines out of his nostrils.... He'll still show up to work.

He'll take dayquil and say he's fine.... Even when I know he's not.

I feel like these past four years of me being so used to him saying, "I'm fine," or "I'll be fine," has almost made me immune to when something isn't right.... he'll say, "my eye is twitching."  My response is usually just, "oh. okay."  I don't usually ask any other questions, or ask him if he's okay, or how long it has been doing it, because I used to do all that.... and it drove him nuts.  He wanted to just let it go.  He would always tell me that he wasn't telling me something so that I could fix it, rather just making a statement, or stating a fact.

I got used to hearing his comments, but not really conversing with him about them.   Until recently....

Jason has come a long, long way during our 4 years of marriage.  In the very beginning, he seemed like a great communicator, and that's probably because it was the very beginning and we were just getting to know each other, so pretty much everything he said to me was new, and I felt like, "oh wow! You explained that great!" buuuuuut, we also were engaged after 16 days and married after 2 months, so the likelihood that we really knew each other really well.... is... well, highly unlikely.  BUT, there is not a single moment or thing that I regret with Jason.  I guess the we both just KNEW that we were both equally committed and serious about making it work.... How the rest worked out? I have absolutely no idea.  It just did.  We just aren't the type to give up.

Anyway, I don't want to get too off track here.  Bottom line is, about a week ago, he mentioned something about his face feeling weird.  I chalked it up to it being one of those weird twitch things that he gets sometimes when he's stressed, and didn't say much else about it.  He mentioned it a few other times. He asked me if one side felt different than the other, or if it looked different to me.  It didn't. It didn't feel different, nor did it look any different to me.  And now, in the complete silence of the early evening, sitting on my bed, waiting for him to come home, I'm wondering if there was something I missed.  Did one side really FEEL different than the other and I somehow missed it?

He called me yesterday morning while he was at work.  He asks, "Can you call and get me an appointment for the dr for today?"  
"For what time?" I asked.
"Whatever they have. I'll make it," he said.
I knew it was really bothering him now.

I called and got him an appointment for 2 pm yesterday afternoon.
Jason went in, by himself, as I was home with all the kids.
He came home in his work clothes just like every other day and went about his business, doing the dishes and settling down.  The (extra) kids got picked up and I finally had a moment to think clearly, but I still didn't.
I was sitting at the computer, looking at the amortization schedule calendar, figuring out how much less interest we'd be paying if we continued to make additional monthly payments on our house as we have been.... I'm sitting here, deep in thought.... "Well if we go with this streamline loan offer, and take the interest rate down one percent.... then that saves us x amount of money each month..... now if we pay.... " blah blah blah, you get the point. It was so stupid! Who cares about all of these freakin "what if" situations when my husband has a funny feeling in his face and he's just standing there quietly doing the dishes and I don't even know what the hell is going on?!

Well, I'll tell you who cares about the "what if" situations.... It's me.  I do.....
I care about all of the what if situations, because since we sat down and talked, it's all I can think about..... The doctor gave him a referral to a neurologist, because he was completely honest with Jason.  "My last patient who had what you're explaining, waited too long. He had a tumor that was growing behind his ear and ended up severing the nerve in his face." and blah blah blah is all I heard after he said the word tumor.

OF COURSE, he was not saying that my husband HAS a tumor, but brought up the chance that he just might.... and the fact that he just might, is absolutely NOTHING I want to hear about.... I mean, of course I want to know, because I will be that damn annoying patient's family, standing there with a notebook and a pen, asking questions and writing down the answers.... I'll be the annoying wife, standing at Jason's side, ensuring he's getting all of his proper medications, measuring his intake and output, changing his sheets and everything else annoying that you could possibly imagine.  I don't care at what age, as long as I am able, I will be that wife that won't leave his side no matter how painful it will be for me.... I KNOW it sounds like I'm putting a death sentence on my husband. GOD, that's not what I'm doing.... I have this tendency to often imagine how horrible things CAN be and how great we DO have things, and that is what drives me to appreciate people far more than I do at times.... I get all weepy at the thought of my mom passing away one day, and it makes me want to pack up my car, and go stay at her house for days at a time (but I don't, because anything over an hour with Lewie would drive ANYONE insane).... It makes me want to plan spa days with her.... manicures and pedicures.... it makes me want to do things that will make her smile.... Things that make me really appreciate and enjoy her company.... I do this often with my husband and kids.... I get caught up in these moments.... and I get lost in them.... Last night was one of those moments for me.... Everyone went to bed.... everyone except myself.... and Lewie... Lewie asked me multiple times, "momma can you come in your bed so we can get warm and snuggle next to daddy?"

"Give me another minute, buddy," I said, as I held up one finger over my laptop.  "One more minute, buddy. I'm almost done."

I could feel the crinkle between my eyebrows as I'd searched for neurologists.  How the hell do you search for a good neurologist?

I haven't the slightest clue, but I called the one our doctor referred and another one my mother has seen before for all of her brain scans.  My mom's neurologist retired over a year ago. bleh.
The other one had a voice mailbox for his receptionist.  So I left all of our information and asked for a call back.  I wanted to at least get him in.  I want him to have all of the tests done and if we don't like this guy's opinions, we can take those results and tests and go somewhere else for another opinion and this way, it would buy me time to research some more neurologists.... so that's what I did.
I called and made him an appointment.  I called him and asked if there was any way he would be able to make a mid-morning appointment for tomorrow and he seemed hesitant.  There are VERY few things or times I have ever veto'd anything in our marriage, actually only one other time I veto'd something and wasn't willing to budge, and this was going to be the 2nd time if he decided to disagree.... I was all ready to debate.... but his response sort of surprised me.

"Is your work day really busy tomorrow?" I asked.
"What's that question for?" He asked back.
"Do you think you'd be able to make an 11:15 am doctor's appointment?"
"For what?"
"The neurologist. If you can't go tomorrow, then you can't get in until the 19th."
He said, "I don't know. Let me think about it."

So I called the receptionist back and told her to book us for the 19th because he didn't know if he could make it tomorrow and their office was getting ready to close.

Two minutes later, Jason calls me back and said, "Go ahead and book it for tomorrow."
So I called back and waited on hold for 8 minutes to get him the appointment for tomorrow morning.

So, although I'm hoping they tell him something like, "oh you pulled a muscle grunting too hard," or something lame like that... That's what I'm hoping for.... What I'm hoping for is that I will never have to face the scariest journey of ever having to mentally prepare for losing Jason.... I haven't EVER put my heart into anyone else the way I have with my children and Jason.... I absolutely ADORE my husband more than I could ever even attempt to put into words....

So, if you will, I ask that you please keep Jason in your thoughts and prayers.

Also keep all of the doctors in your prayers too.... because they have to deal with me.... the crazy, ADD wife who carries a notebook and pen with her, everywhere she goes, as to not forget her thoughts, questions and answers....

I'll be back again soon! <3 p="">

i can't title this post, cuz there isn't a good title for it.

I'm full of details. My husband doesn't like details (when I'm telling stories, anyway).  But I feel like I can't go on without telling you all about the details and small steps in between.  Like I can't just go, "oh hey, we're trying to eat healthy. I have a runny nose. We almost died on december 30th. My dog farted. Okay, have a good day!"   Well, I could in the midst of one of my A.D.D moments, but most likely, I'd have to tell you the WHOOOOOOOOOOOLE story that went along with all of those little teasers....

January 1st.  My husband asks me to watch a movie with him.  Actually, it's a documentary called, "Forks Over Knives," and it pretty much just came out of no where... like bird poop on your head.... or those awful diarrhea cramps that have you hunched over your steering wheel, barely able to hold your head high enough over the speedometer, praying to God you make it home in time..... Anyway, it was like seconds before the movie started, I'm shoveling See's Candy Toffeettes (I don't even know how to spell them. I just eat them) in my face.... and then next thing you know, I'm standing in the kitchen with a 13 gallon trash bag with both refrigerator doors open, holding it open at my feet, all pumped to throw shit away.... Long story short, it was motivating enough to get me to agree with my husband that I will too, indeed, join him on his attempt at this whole food, plant based diet.  Today is the 8th, and so far, I'm still pretty solid.... except for the first few days, I thought I was going to physically turn inside out because I wanted sweets SOOOO bad.  I am certain I am a sugar-a-holic. Yes, those are real addicts. I am one. I am also a chocoholic. And a sweetsaholic. And a husbandaholic (only for my own husband though).... and brownies..... ooooohhhhhh, you don't even know my obsession with brownies and chocolate chip cookies.  The other day, I texted Jason (the hubby), about 3 (or 43940884837 million times) and calmly expressed my concern for my health and the possibility of turning inside out due to my lack of sweets.  I was desperate. Like desperate, desperate.  I had eaten leftover veggie pasta for lunch.... and then I was still hungry, so I made some oatmeal and I was still hungry, so I ate grapenuts.... and then after eating all that crap, I thought, I should have just eaten brownies.  At least I wouldn't have felt like I ate 12 lbs of food and was still hungry.  Okay, so that passed, and I have to say that besides my nose running (because it's cold in the house, which is another story), I actually feel really great.  I'll let you know how I feel in a few days.

I have a runny nose. Yes, I do, because it's cold. And when I say cold, I mean California cold.  This morning was 38 degrees when I loaded up all the kids to take Taylor to school.  To me, that is cold.  Our house is about 58 degrees when I wake up in the morning.  To me, that is cold.  When I run the heat, in the winter, I usually set the thermostat at about 67 or 68 degrees.  "Then why don't you turn your heater/furnace on," you're asking, right?  Well that's another story.

December 30th.  We were all just sitting around on a normal night.  Jason was on Vacation.  We had had a few glasses of wine and were just relaxing. Jason was watching football, I was browsing the internet and the kids were just laying low (believe it or not).  We had the heater on, and the fireplace going (gas logs, in case you're wondering).... All of a sudden, an alarm starts going off in our house.  It didn't sound like your regular smoke alarm, I mean, not that I've ever set it off or anything, but it just sounded different.  For whatever reason, my instincts told me it was the CO detectors.  I just opened up the sliders and windows and doors immediately and ventured to the hallway.  It was, indeed, the CO detector.  (we have two)  Jason was taking it down to try to shut it off.  He says, "It's fine. It's probably just the battery,"  Except, it wouldn't shut off.  AAAAAAAnd then, the second detector starts alarming.   As he is messing with the first one, I took the second one down, and read the instructions. It was telling us to move to fresh air.  I didn't wait another minute. I just got the kids (and asia and her big bone that she got for Christmas that makes her farts smell like she's rotting from the inside out) and we went outside.  I told Jason that we needed to call the fire department like it said to.  He didn't seem to think it was necessary, but I've never had any experience with Carbon Monoxide, and I certainly didn't want to experiment with it this night.  So I looked up the fire department's number, gave em a jingle and they came on over.... a whole bunch of them.  They needed to call for back up for the truck with a carbon monoxide tester.  (which seems like they should all stock them, or maybe that's just me). Seems pretty expensive to send another truck over just for that.  Anyway, 2nd truck shows up.  I now have like 12 firemen in my house.  "Any dizziness? headaches?" I'm feeling fuzzy and my typical ashley response, "from the wine? or the carbon monoxide?"  The head guy, captain? chief? I don't know which, calibrates his machine and doesn't read any traces of carbon monoxide.  He closes all the windows and doors and turns the furnace/heater back on and heads to Lewie's room.  In about a minute, the numbers spiked to 45 ppm.  "Turn it off. Numbers spiked quick."  We had to reopen all the doors and windows again.  They turned off the gas to the unit, told us to call the gas company and not use the unit anymore.  On their way out, the last fireman turned to us, and said, "I'm so glad you guys called us. A lot of people don't have these detectors and had you not called, we would have been responding to a much worse situation, with you all deceased."  Moral of the story.... GET CARBON MONOXIDE DETECTORS IN YOUR HOME, or you could just think you're really buzzed off some good wine, but in fact be slowly dying a carbon monoxide death.  Okay, not really, but you could just not wake up. =(  I seriously joked about it that night, but then cried in the shower the next day when I woke up and realized that just.like.that, our entire family of four, plus Asia, could have been killed, and what an AWFUL thing someone would have to walk in to.... It would just flip someone's world upside down. UGH!  Okay, so go get your carbon monoxide detectors.  If you can't afford it, email me privately and I'll buy and send you one. seriously.

okay.... now that I feel like we're getting a little more comfy again, I think I can start my normal ranting about complete nonsense posts. =)  I'm glad you're here.... and even more so, I'm glad I'm here.  It feels good to be back....