Going home

     Well, in my mind, the bad doctor had finally won! Bastard. He was right - I was a big baby and I couldn't stop crying. I was so mad that I was indeed what he had said,  A BIG BABY! I just kept crying and crying - but not out loud. I stifled it for the most part, mostly crying in the bathroom or when I was alone in my room. I didn't cry much on the drive home, instead I simply lay down and fell asleep!

     When we arrived home, both of my sisters were home from school and they were nicer to me than I thought they would be! After obligatory hellos and "How are you?", we basically just went about our business. It was a Friday and I had a weekend to pull myself together before school on Monday. I remember that my Uncle Joe and my cousin Tommy stopped by that night. I was so embarrassed! Tommy is three years younger than me (or is it 4?) and he was the youngest of my Aunt Sarah and Uncle Joe's children. As typical in most families, my mother was a little closer to her two sisters, than her brothers. So naturally, my sisters and I were closer to my Aunt Sarah's children. I feel I have a fine relationship with most of the cousins on my mother's side of the family (there are 11), but I've always felt closest to Aunt Sarah's children. Her oldest is my cousin Joey. He is also the oldest of all the cousins. I view him as the "patriarch" and I love him. He is so funny and doesn't even mean to be. He served in Vietnam and I can only imagine what he lived through. A couple of years ago, at a family function, he spoke a little of his experiences as a medic and I was enraptured. It was the first time I had ever heard him talk about it and in that moment I was humbled that he and so many other young men's lives had been dangled so dangerously on the brink for our country and how awful an experience that must have been. Although I am writing this blog because I too feel I have a story, it takes just a teeny moment to remember that my story pales in comparison to Joey's and many others. When I was even younger, Joey would take me for rides on his motorcycle and I just thought he was the "coolest". He was sort of like my "Fonzie"!! Their next child is Diane. Diane has been married to David for an eternity and he is a really nice guy. Ah...Diane. If Joey is the "patriarch", then Diane is the "matriarch"! Funny, because she has no children! Which in my humble opinion is a shame. I believe that she would have been a phenomonal mother. She is almost as funny as Joey and doesn't realize it either. Diane is just one of those people who I would trust to help me whenever possible. I don't get to spend as much time with her as I would like, but I do adore her. Whenever I do get to spend some time with her, I always walk away thinking, "I've got to call her and get together". Unfortunately, time seems to escape me and before I know it, another holiday is upon us and that is when I see her next. Then there was Marie. She married several years ago and presumably spends a great deal of time with her husband’s family because I haven't seen her in quite some time. She was alot of fun while I was growing up. Then lastly, there is Tommy. Tommy was born to my Aunt Sarah "later" in life and is like 17 years younger than Joey. He was closest in age to me, so we spent a lot of time together in our youth. He was the CUTEST little kid. Precious, in fact. You know when you see a really cute little boy and you think, "OMG - he is adorable!"?? Well, that was Tommy and because I didn't have a brother (the one thing I have always wanted most in life) he, in my mind, was my brother. My Aunt Sarah and Uncle Joe lived on the same street as my Nonnie and Poppie, so you couldn't visit one without visiting the other. So naturally, even if we went "up the hill" to visit the grandparents, the only saving grace was that I was able to play with my "brother". Tommy is married to Jill, whom I adore as well. She is by far the kindest, most gracious person you will ever meet and if you ever need anything, you just know that she is a phone call away. This is truly a woman who would give you the shirt off of her back if you needed it. She is a woman whom I truly look up to. I honestly don't know of a talent that she doesn't possess, but mostly I feel she is the finest mother and finest wife that exists. She is just a good, good person.

     So now that I went off-track on the family -- let's get back to my story! I'll probably do this often, sorry.

     Where was I? Oh yes, Uncle Joe and Tommy stopped by that night and I was embarrassed. But you know what?? It wasn't bad at all. Uncle Joe looked at me as he always did, he spoke to me as he always did, and he kissed and hugged me like he always did. Tommy asked, "Does that hurt?" and I said, "No. It's just heavy". He said, "Oh". That was it!! Phew!! I wondered if school would go so smoothly?

Fat chance.

     It now Sunday and I was going to school the next day. Over the weekend, I learned how to sponge bath (no showers, full body cast remember?) and what I was going to do about my hair! My sister Ursula, sweet as she is, decided she would help me. So, picture this......she would help me hop on a kitchen chair, I would lay down on the kitchen counter with my head (or should I say the back of the cast?) slightly hanging into the sink. She would cover up the headrest on the back of the cast with a plastic baggie and she would wash my hair for me! She did this almost every day for me. Looking back, she probably just didn't want to be embarrassed with her sister walking around with greasy hair! But regardless, she did do it and I was grateful. Sometimes, I would get her to help me when I was sponge bathing to try to put her hands into the opening of the cast at the shoulders with a washcloth and I would feel so much cleaner! And to think, I had to wear this cast for 2 1/2 months. It's no wonder I didn't smell horrible.

     In case you are not aware, kids are mean. If you are one of the people reading this who is a parent, trust me when I tell you, NEVER say, "Not MY child!". Yes, probably even your child has been mean and cruel to another child. There will be a story later on about that statement. The first week of school was rough. Very rough. I was in middle school (junior high, back then) and it was so embarrassing. Either people ignored me and didn't say anything at all and didn't even look at me or they stared and would make nasty, mean comments. I don't want to dwell on this long because it is a really bad memory, but I do remember that during the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th week after, when things had started to "normalize", out of the blue I walked into English, and a boy shouted out, "Here comes the linebacker!" and everyone started laughing. It was so humiliating and horrible. I tear up thinking about it all these years later. It was truly awful. I almost couldn't wait for the surgery because then I wouldn't have to go to school and I could be back at the hospital where I felt I fit in. I was counting the days and they were not passing fast enough.