What a Difference a Day Makes

The most amazing man on the planet has returned home!!

I finally received the advanced notice telephone call indicating that my husband would be arriving in Frankfurt. Once I knew he was in Germany and safely on the ground, a tremendous weight lifted. I still had to wait nearly three hours before I could wrap my arms around him, but those three hours were calm and reassured. My husband was FINALLY home.

My mother was relieved. His mother was relieved. I was relieved and our children were relieved.

Life can now continue on its "normal" path. Ah, but what is normal? We still have no idea if we are moving in June/July or not. If we do move, we don't know where we'll go. Here I am trying to decide whether or not to plant flowers in the flower beds, or replant my potted plants into cheap plastic pots to give away to someone who'll be staying in Schweinfurt. Such tremendous decisions like that are what ails me now. That is such a blessing. I am no longer wondering what I'll do if my husband is killed or maimed. People who don't live with those kind of possibilities every day just can't understand what it's like to not have to think about it. Families of firefighters, police officers, vulcanologists, convenience store clerks, those people understand what it's like to worry incessantly. Unfortunately, I still worry. My dad is working in Baghdad. I try not to watch CNN too often. I can't help but wonder how close my dad is to the latest car bombing. Yes, Baghdad is a big place and the likelihood of my dad being hit is statistically nominal, but I just can't help that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

That brings me to my next topic: That sickening cramping in the pit of the belly. Three days before my husband came home, I had a horrible cramp in the lower right side of my abdomen. At first, I thought nothing of it. When the pain was sever enough to wake me from a deep sleep at 4:14 in the morning, I suspected appendicitis. So, naturally, I called my mother. Since she's in the states, it was still early evening for her. She said the pain that I was feeling is not the same kind of pain associated with appendicitis. She recommended two Tylenol 3 and go back to bed.

The pain didn't go away. It lasted all weekend long and into the beginning of the week. It wasn't because I was backed up. A laxative took care of that. My bowels were working and making all sorts of noises. That meant they were working. I was farting regularly so I wasn't swelling up like a hot air balloon. But the pain was not diminishing.

The LAST thing I wanted to deal with on the first night of my husband's return was abdominal pain.

It got so bad and had continued for five days, that I finally went to see a doctor. The initial exam was inconclusive because I had no fever. Hmmm...off to radiology. Unfortunately, that meant a different hospital. My sweet and wonderful husband spent his first day home in the emergency room waiting room with me. After several more hours, three sets of vital signs, a GIANT glass of sweet glow-in-the-dark radiation beverage and a CT scan, the cause of my severe abdominal pain is.....inconclusive. How's that for a diagnosis?

So, back home and decent dinner. Wouldn't you know, by this time, 144 hours later, no more pain. Naturally. Just another pop quiz. I'm still feeling discomfort, but nothing like the bend-over-and-want-to-die-cramping-white-hot-pain of the past several days.

It's just so typical of my life.