MS saved my family.

I guess I have always just been taught to look at the big picture. I know that life is only for a short period of time and I am so thankful for that knowledge, otherwise I think I'd be bitter. I think that my entire family would be bitter. But that's not the way it is at all. Yes, we are sad by the daily occurances that my dad has to go through, but it's that knowledge that keeps us all going.

Everyone in our family has changed. I have a younger brother and sister who have been directly affected by my dad having MS and it having gotten significantly worse over the last few years. My brother was a typical high school boy (he is 23 now) who made a couple dumb decisions and seemed to just be trying to find himself just like everyone else. I know I did the same thing in high school. But as he got a little older and we realized how much suffereing was going on with my dad, his demeanor changed. He became so much more compliant and willing to help out around the house and in taking care of my dad. Even now, he is the first to jump up and help my dad walk. When we are places, he escorts my dad to the restroom and is constantly on the lookout for him, which isn't something that a lot of young men are conscious of or willing to do for others. I 100% contribute my brother going on a mission and making something of himself to teh fact that my dad is such an inspirational guy and we just want to do things right for him. All 3 of us really try to cause teh least amount of problems as is humanly possible, because my dad doesn't need any more problems in his life.

I have definitely changed. Even moreso than I already was, I am 100% a daddy's girl. I am always wondering where he is and if someone is going to be there to help him in teh house when he gets home, and if someone is going to be there to watch the basketball game with him. Also, my relationship with my Savior has 100% changed. Tonight after my dad got home from work (which is crazy that he still insists on working, the majority of men with his limited mobility and pain would have quit years ago), he slowly went to his office and started preparing for a meeting his has to fulfill for our church. 30 minutes later, he was slowly out the door again and won't be home for hours I'm sure. It would be so much easier for him not to have church responsibilities, but he does everything asked of him, thankful for the opportunity. He attends his 7 AM Sunday meetings and never misses church, regardless of how much he is hurting. When I see my dad's devotion, I absolutely cannot make an excuse for myself, no matter how hard I try. My life has completely changed through watching him do these week after week.

My dad has also changed. He is quieter. He is more meek and humble. He is more serviceful, although it is more hard for him to be so. He has learned to let people help him and to be more submissive. He rarely complains or asks for attention and that is why I love him.

We will individually and collectively never be the same. MS saved my family.

I Think Sometimes People Deserve to Be Pissed Off

... especially those who suffer from physical problems. Ya know, there are a lot of really screwed up people out there. We have family members and people we know who are total idiots and make the worst life-choices ever, yet they are in perfect health!! Does that seem fair?? No, it does not. And while I know that there is a purpose to everything etc, somtimes it's okay to be mad. And today, and maybe tomorrow, and probably Sunday, I'm gonna be mad.

The Wheelchair Dilemma

It is a big deal. We don't typically talk about it, but it's going to need to be officially addressed really quick here. Yes, when we go to airports or like Sams Club, he has to get in a wheelchair. He hates it, but it's the only way. He physically cannot walk that far. At work, he has a special stall in the parking garage, and everywhere else, we drop him off by the doors and then park.

But sometimes, we need a dang wheelchair and he does not want one. To have a wheelchair everywhere we go is like, giving up for him. We've mentioned getting a lightweight one that folds up or something, but he's not having it at all. He's very headstrong and wants to be independent. He's not looking for special attention or sympathy from anyone. And while his walking certainly attracts both of those, the wheelchair is just too far. To be honest, we're all just holding out for a miracle. It's inevitable that in a year or so, that point will come, and when it does, we will all be devastated. But I guess we will cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, I pray he does not get seriously hurt. I cringe at the thought of the falls I know he takes, but for him to get really hurt would be absolutely terrible.

And You Know What...

I don't care if no one ever even reads this, or cares, I feel better already being able to write it down.

Happy 50th Mom!

My dad is the best husband ever, probably because my mom is the best wife ever. She takes care of him so wonderfully, and my dad knows that.

So yesterday was her 50th bday, yes she's getting old, and my dad was so cute and didn't go to work and went and randomly bought her a new car. It's one of those new Ford Edges, which is rather cool actually. He had gone and taken her car from her work and traded it in for the new one and when she came out it was sitting there and he was in it with roses. How cute, right?

Later last night we went to a really nice restaraunt with some of the family as well, and then, once again, we were brutally reminded of the constant stuggle my dad goes through. We were walking to our table in the crowded restaraunt when my brother let go of my dad and he, my dad, trying to get around the table, leaned against a wall... THAT MOVED. I won't even go into the fact that you probably shouldn't have a wall.. that looks like a wall.. that is on wheels. That's so dangerous.

As you might could guess, yep, the wall rolled right out from under his weight and we watched in slow motion as he took one of THE hardest falls I have yet to have ever seen. He landed square on his shoulder. Like, full body weight. The sound reverberated across the whole restaraunt, seriously. Men from every table nearby rushed to his aid. I know I've said before that when things like this happen, you really do see the best in people come out. People are SO kind. At that time, I think I still had my hands on my hears and my eyes closed. I just cannot bear to watch anymore.

They finally got him upright and into his seat and the surrounding tables went back to normal when I looked at him directly across from me and saw his eyes well up with tears until he quickly tried to make a joke a pretend like it didn't happen. We were all so shooken up and he was so embarrassed that I'm not sure anyone really even enjoyed the dinner. I know I had a rash (which happens when I am upset or stressed) until half-way through the main course.

Today my dad got up, we got him dressed, and he went to work without even the ability to raise his right arm because his shoulder is now hurt too, along with all of his other injuries from falls.

Happy Birthday Mom.

Why It's Hard to Bring Men Around the Fam

I have never been a person to get really embarrassed about things. I make a fool out of myself on a daily basis and I don't typically think twice about it.So when I am withe my dad and he stumbles or whatever, I don't think twice about it for myself, but my heart aches for my dad... and for anyone around who might feel awkward.

Last week we took my friend Matt with us on a family Jazz game night. We pulled up to the curb outside the ESA where a man in a wheelchair was actually going to meet us. (We just figured out that this service was available). I've known Matt for a couple years, and he knew my dad has health problems, but there was no way to prepare him for what came next.

As my dad got out of the car, there happened to be ice where he put his cane and it was like watching in slow motion as he went down. Impressively, Matt was close enough where he caught my dad under his armpits right before he hit the ground and tried to keep him from going all the way down. My brother and I rushed over and tried to help also, but it was a good 45 seconds before we got him back up and steady, all the while Matt was basically bear-hugging my dad chest to chest.

Matt is a nice guy and I am so thankful he was so quick, but I could tell he was quite... I don't even know the word to say. He wasn't embarrassed really. Maybe he was just not aware of how bad my dad's condition was. And what do I say? Thanks? THat's basically all I could do and pretend to shake it off, but somehow that incident lingered the whole night in the back of his, and mine, and I'm sure everyone else's mind.

Which is why it is hard to bring men around the family sometimes.

My Crazy Weekends :)

I really should have gone into nursing.. or physical therapy. At least then I'd know what I'm doing haha! Actually, I probably have more nursing experience than half of those kids who work in old folks homes already, and I'm proud of that.

I'm completely fine with saying that Saturdays are my days with my dad.. and I love it. My mom was busy today with some things with my grandma and my brother and sister were working, so it was even more just me and him. When I woke up today, I got his shoes on (he can't tie them, his hands don't really work) and went with him to get his hair cut up at Dollar Cuts up the street. He doesn't love having company even on small errands, but it's necessary. Then, I came home, fixed him lunch, and made him go lay down. He gets really tired. He doesn't like to lay down either, but you have to make him. He's supposed to sleep WAY more than he actually does. I ran some errands, and when I came back he was up so we watched some basketball. I stretched him out because he is very stiff and his body basically doesn't work and any blood flow is good. He really should be going to a physical therapist, but we haven't completely convinced him of that either. When he was finally ready for bed, my mom and I got him to his room, basically put on his pajamas (don't worry, we're not like some freaky family where I see him naked or anything, that's gross) and got him in bed. And that was basically my Saturday in a nutshell.

A lot of my Saturdays go much the same way. Yes, I hang out with my friends sometimes and still have fun, but I've found that over the years as circumstances with my dad have gotten worse, my priorities have changed and I want to be where I am needed, and a lot of the time that is at home. I want to spend time with my dad, and my family in general. I am constantly aware of where he is and if my mom is stressed out or what needs to be done. No, I am definitely not a perfect daughter, I have my moments, but I know that I am much less selfish and self-centered than I once was. It is only through true and unselfish love that one can become content and more whole as a person, well, at least I think so.

The Jazz Game Routine

As I've mentioned, we are a big sports family. We watch sports, we talk sports, and we have all played multiple sports at some time or another. Well, maybe not my mom ;) She's not the most athletically inclined, but she'll go to events for sure.

One of the things we've been doing for years is go to Jazz games. We have season tickets and it's something that we all love to do. When there was a lockout earlier this season, it was like the world had come tumbling down haha.

Anyways, we have two tickets to every game, and let me tell you, every year it gets harder and harder to manage with my dad. So, here's how it goes:

We arrive at the ESA (Energy Solutions Arena for you non-Utahns) and the driver, whoever is going with my dad that game, pulls right up to the front and lets him out on the curb. Then, we go to our parking lot kiddy corner of the stadium, park, and literally sprint back to where we dropped my dad off to help him get in. You have to walk with him. He has his cane, but it's a really slow-go and he needs someone to help steady him, especially when you add the front steps into the equation. When we finally get in the doors, through security, and make our way to our portal, then comes the worst part - the stairs to get down to our row once again.

Walking downhill or down stairs is always more difficult than going up for him, and probably for most people who struggle  in any such way I'm sure. You have to literally hold him  and make sure he doesn't fall, which can be somewhat difficult at time since I am 115 lbs and he's almost 200. But, I think God helped me to be a strong person because he knew that one day I would serve as my dad's main source of balance on many occassions.

Also, This season we switched seats to get an end seat for my dad so that when people need to go past him, he can just swing his legs into the aisle instead of trying to stand up for each one. It's such a trial even to do that. It's worked out much better thus far.

Well, when the game is done, we basically do the routine backwards. When I finally get him out the doors, down the stairs, and to the corner, I then sprint to the car (as not to leave him standing in the cold too long by himself), get out of the parking lot (we know exactly where to park to get out of there as soon as possible), and come to pick him up where we left him.

I always wonder what people thing throughout this process, when we're holding up lines in the aisles, or I'm running down the street of Salt Lake at night all by myself, but, to be honest, people are usually very kind. it's amazing how understanding people really can be when they see him struggle. I love people when I'm with my dad.

And, I don't care what it takes, I will do whatever it takes to do something with my dad that I know he loves, like I know he loves athletic events. I will cherish these nights forever.

My Dad Is Not A Whiner

To say that my dad is a trooper would be a colossal understatement. He was so athletic and active during his younger years. He played just about every sport that there was to in high school. He even earned a baseball scholarship, but chose not go to and went on a mission instead. I definitely got my athleticism from my dad. We actually think and act more alike than anyone in the family as well.

Anyways, he played softball and golfed and participated in all sorts of athletics for well into my childhood. I remember going and watching him play slow-pitch softball, and for a dad, he was good. I loved those days. I always dreamt of playing with him in these old people games when I got old enough, but, by the time I reached 18 or so, his time had passed, because of MS. Now, he comes to watch myself, my brother, and our friends play, when he can. It is such a trial even getting him to the bleachers and it breaks my heart every summer.

My dad still works full-time as well. Doctors have been telling him to go on disability for years, as they say most in his condition would have long ago, but he refuses. He has come home with torn suit pants and scrapes more often than anyone should ever have to. It is so humiliating for him to fall in from of his peers at work. We always know when he has done so because he comes home so upset. He rarely tells us what happened, we just know.

This guy does more in a week than most do in a month with such a dabilitating disease. His legs drag when he tries to walk. It takes him 10x the amount of time to get somewhere as others, and he certainly hurts, but he keeps going,

That is what I call enduring to the end.

MS = Multiple Sclerosis

I feel almost dumb saying this, but I probably don't know as much about Multiple Sclerosis as I should, seeing as how what it does to my dad has changed my entire young adult years.

Here's what I know off the top of my head: It is a horrible disease that attacks your nervous system. It basically disables your limbs and causes your body parts to not work.

There are two different types of MS. One is where it relapses and then comes back. I've heard where in this type, once in a while, he/she will become suddenly temporarily paralyzed. Like, they wake up and are immobilized. That would be terrifying.

The other type, the kind my dad has, and has have for like 15 years is more of a progressive type. If you ask me, this is much worse. I would much rather be normal most of the time and sometimes be paralyzed than be disabled ALL of the time, but, maybe I'm just biased. The grass is always greener on the other side.

Anyways, with my dad, it started off pretty mildly. He was wobbily and not as quick on his feet, but he was still at all of my high school games and it didn't affect us too much.

Also, my dad's left side works a lot better than his right. He can barely hold a pen anymore, and his right leg is so much slower. He can't make a fist or even flip you off, as hasn't now for years. It's actually quite impressive how ambidextrious he has become. While his left side definitely sucks too, it works a little better and he usually eats etc. with that hand.

There are a bunch of other terrible side affects like blindness, (we had a spat of that about 2 years ago, but thankfully it went away), losing control of your pee organs (not quite sure what the technical term for that is), and general pain, but let's not kid ourselves here, the greatest side affect of this is that you just feel so sad about it.

Why Create this Blog?

I don't know really. I guess this is just a subject that I wish I could talk about more, or have feelings about, that I wish I could at least write down. And, seeing as how it takes 10x more time to write by hand, here I am.

I'm not the type of person who like to share their woes or put their problems out there on like Facebook, you know the type that does, but that's not me. I feel awkward about it and really am not looking for sympathy for myself or my family or for anyone for that matter.

I am not some depressed, bewildered person either. I am very happy. I am very blessed. I have everything (well, almost, I DO need a man) that anyone could ever want or need. So, don't get the idea that I am some mopey girl. I am fine. We are fine.