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Where to even begin? Take a seat, COVID, it’s not your turn.
When March rolled around, I had no idea the mayhem that laid in store. I was excited for Birthday Month, well, as excited as someone in their late 30s can be about birthday month. With our trucking business fully staffed and running smoother, this was going to be the first birthday my hubby was going to be home to celebrate with me in years.
And, it was on a Friday, so the possibilities looked pretty darn good!
There were reports of a crazy virus that was rampaging across Europe but, other than a Utah Jazz player coming down with it, we didn’t give it much thought here in our small corner of the globe.
The first week of March, my big dude and his brothers went to Vegas for their yearly basketball tournament watching man trip. The second they were on the road, I started tearing into our master bedroom. For 10 years I’ve slept in a baby poop brown bedroom and it finally felt like the right time to tackle the project. Our master is ridiculously big, so the project was a little daunting not only in regard to the amount of work but also the cash needed.
I finally saved up some money, bought a stack of wood, and emptied the room.
Three days into the project, my youngest daughter’s 2-week long stomach bug started ramping up. Five days in, we were sent to the ER of our state children’s hospital. She was admitted and the world stopped turning.
My spunky 10 year old’s kidneys had shut down and nobody could tell me why.
The guys rushed back from Vegas early. The bedroom project was left abandoned. And then the virus came.
The first case of COVID-19 in our county was a student at our local high school. School was dismissed and my two oldest kids were sent home to quarantine for 14 days. A couple of days later, the entire state education system shut down and all students were sent home. All instruction and lessons were put online.
In the meantime, I was trying to keep a 10-year-old happy in a locked-down hospital. On March 17th, she underwent a kidney biopsy. On March 18th, our 9th day of the hospital stay, we woke up to a 5.7 magnitude earthquake shaking the room.
An hour later I received the news that my dear friend had passed away from the rare form of cancer she had been battling.
4 hours after my heart fell apart, we were sent home.
COVID had become a worldwide pandemic and the hospital was preparing for battle. The biopsy results showed improvement in her kidneys and doctors felt she would be safer from the virus at home.
I was taught when to administer meds and how to take her blood pressure, then we were driving up the canyon as fast as we could.
Full biopsy results came a week later.
On March 26th, my baby girl was diagnosed with Membranoproliferative Glomerulonephritis or MPGN. From what we’ve been told so far MPGN is an autoimmune disease affecting the glomeruli or filters of the kidneys. Until our daughter undergoes more testing, we won’t know what type of MPGN or what caused it. For now, she is on a pretty nasty cocktail of steroids, immunosuppressants, and blood pressure meds and is sheltering at home.
Her body isn’t strong enough to fight sickness or infection at this time so no visitors and no going out. For a very extroverted social butterfly, the social isolation has been the hardest part for her.
Last week, I finished up the board and batten accent wall and painted the bedroom.
Our mattress is finally out of the family room and though the room is far from done, there is a little more sense of normalcy in the midst of all this chaos. To say my anxiety is through the roof would be an understatement. Having the luxury of a functioning bedroom feels immensely necessary at the moment, even if it’s far from done.
The rest of the project is just going to have to wait and that’s ok.
In the midst of all the darkness, it feels hard to see any bright spots but I’d be remiss to not acknowledge them. Because they are there… and full of light.
I won’t lie and say all is well because it’s not. I am beyond stir crazy and my emotions are on the verge of boiling over at any given minute. On top of that, I feel like I’ve been going through mourning. Mourning the life we once had, the life she should have had. I am tired, angry, sad, overwhelmed, and grieving.
But, despite everything, I also have faith that one day this will all feel old hat. That there is still a wonderful, rich life waiting for my baby girl.
On Monday, I shared some thoughts on my Instagram after a particularly trying experience. I ran across a quote by R.M. Drake that hit me square in the face. It reads, “Do not lose hope, please believe there are a thousand beautiful things waiting for you. Sunshine comes to all who feel rain.”
Good things truly are in store. Amazingly beautiful things. Even in times of COVID pandemics, earthquakes, and kidney disease.
Just no alien invasions or volcanic eruptions for the time being, if you please.