Seriously.  I am [DONE] – If I could, legitimately quit right now – I WOULD.  This last week or so has been the most awful Series of Unfortunate Events.  I really feel like my life is a guest appearance on that show and we keep things so entertaining that they just keep asking us back, time and time again.  Each time upping the ante a little more.  …but whhhhhy?!

Let’s see.. the beginning of summer we finally got the right belt for our mower, realized there was something else that needed replaced – got that.  My Step-Dad came out and helped Forrest fix it.  He was able to get half our yard mowed and then.. it stopped working and we haven’t been able to fix it yet.  So we live in a jungle.  It’s wonderful.

Whatever, we were making the best of our Jungle life.  Not too big of a deal, annoying.. a little on the trashy side.  But we were making it work for now.  The wood on our deck has slowly started to give out and we’ve had neither the funds or the time to fix it so we’ve been cautious and attempt to cover the holes (except the kids don’t see the importance of that and would rather use whatever we find to cover holes as material to build whatever their hearts desire..)  Still, fine.  Right before leaving for vacation – that I still haven’t had a chance to recap on – Shayne decided to be a trickster and ripped out kitchen faucet off the sink.  Forrest was able to put it back on and it still works but now, we get a water show every time we turn on the sink and it’s began leaking below the sink.  I noticed the other day that it’s causing a weak spot in front of the sink now, so that’s neat.

Ahh, then the fun begins.  A couple weeks ago, my front driver side tire found not one – but TWO – nails.  Right next to each other.  Tire went flat, flat.  Forrest was able to get it plugged but it wasn’t holding air very well.  We were waiting on payday (next week) so I can take it in to get it patched, hopefully.

All week I was waiting on it to crap out and was fully prepared to put the spare on to get by.  I was staying positive and doggy paddling through life.  I’ve been battling the worst bout of depression the last couple years and every time I begin to make some head way, something carries me back down.  I’ve been struggling with college, each term something happens and I fall behind.  My GPA took a hard hit and I was put on suspension for financial aid, thankfully I was able to appeal it and continue receiving it for this term.  In the process I was dropped from a class so I had to move things around in order to stay full time and remain on track.  I knew the beginning was going to be rough getting the kids back in the swing of school and adjusting to a new routine but I was doing pretty good keeping up with everything.. then Murphy struck again!

With the mower, deck, and tire issue I was doing fairly well keeping my spirits up and treading through life.  I had scheduled some self-care that I knew I desperately needed.  The 100 mile yard sale was happening and I was finally going to be able to see what it was all about.  My momma had asked me to help her at the laundromat so I was going to get some kid-free time away, to myself, to do something productive and crazy as it sounds – I was looking forward to it!  I was going to be making a trip to KC to see three of my favorite people in the whole world.. I was going to get through this crap.

Friday the 13th – Full Moon.

To any logical person, this would mean just freaking stay home and play it safe.  To my husband.. it meant let’s see what kind of shenanigans we can get into.

It all started with three little hooligans getting up at 0500 to have some chocolate milk and watch cartoons.  I shut that shit down real quick and put them back in bed.  A couple hours later we arose again (late) to get ready for school.  All was well.  That evening, Forrest went to help a buddy and ride four wheelers.  I vaguely remember him coming in before midnight and telling him to leave me alone before he woke Grady up who was in our bed sleeping.  Next thing I know, I hear him moaning in pain in the living room.  I jump out of bed and nearly run into his buddy who was coming to wake me up.  He said, “Forrest is hurt, it’s bad, I am so sorry.”  I knew it wasn’t good.

I go out to the living room and find him on the couch, in tears from the pain.  There was only a little bit of blood on the back of his head.  I remember walking back and forth to my room several times.  I guess in hopes that the next time I walked into the living room the situation would be different but, it wasn’t.  We were able to get him in the van and made it to the hospital.  The whole way wondering what the hell happened and fearing the absolute worst.  I wasn’t even sure if I was taking him to the right hospital.  Would they treat him correctly?  Was I making a mistake taking him here, rather than somewhere else?  Turns out, those were all very rational fears..

In the ER, there seemed to be very little concern.  It was almost like they were treating a simple sprained ankle.  I don’t remember a single stethoscope being used.  It was like they didn’t believe what happened because he wasn’t gushing blood.. They took him for CT and X-Rays, I was never told exactly what they were scanning, so I (wrongly) assumed they were running CT on his head/neck/spin, chest, knee and hip and X-Ray on his chest, knee and hip.  I assumed they knew what they were doing and we were in good hands, despite the horrid bedside manner received by the doctor.  However, that came to no surprise as the ER Doctor happened to be Forrest’s VA Doctor so we were no stranger to his horrid bedside.  A couple hours later we were told his hip and knee were fine and he had fractured his clavicle on the left side.  I asked about a concussion?  Nope.

I requested some pain medicine for him and it was like I just asked if they had any meth to sell.  Woahh, sorry to blow your mind but he’s very obviously in pain, has a head wound, bump on his chest, can’t move his right leg.. I mean, I don’t know.. Maybe I should call NASA on this one.  Anyways, they gave him a script for some whimpy ass pain medicine, put him in a sling and sent us on our way.  Not before the doc tell us to follow up at the Parsons VA (where Forrest is usually seen by said doctor) on Monday, although he wouldn’t be there and we’d have to see the other doctor there.

HA. No thanks.  I’m no doctor, but I knew he was full of shit and we needed a second opinion.  Honestly, I probably should have taken him straight from there to Wichita.  I just knew I wouldn’t be able to safely make it there that night.  We went home, I got him in bed with ice packs, did what I could for his pain and we (THANKFULLY) were able to get some rest.  Saturday I got up and the kids and I went to Walmart to get his pain meds.  I was able to get ahold of my brother and made a plan for him to come out and help with the kids so I could figure out what to do next.  The ER called and left two voicemails (our cell service is horrid at the house so I don’t always get my calls and rather voicemails some time after.)  I returned their call, thinking maybe they did find something with his hip after all.  Nope!  They called to tell us the “Final Report on his clavicle came back and it actually is NOT broken, so as long if he isn’t in any pain – he can take the sling off.”  I asked if they happened to see anything on his hip, questioned the report and was told AGAIN by his doctor that he was fine and would be sore because “he apparently wrecked his four wheeler pretty good.” WUT.

Baffled. I did the best I could to keep him comfortable, knowing Monday we would need to go to Wichita to be seen at the VA hospital.  I talked him into letting me give him a bath in hopes it was help a little.. Sunday we watched the Chiefs game..

He told me his right leg was numb and tingly, I felt it and it was noticeably colder than his left.  He refused to go back to Wilson Medical, not that I blamed him, and I needed to get my brother here before we could do much of anything.  Monday morning I picked my brother up.  I went outside to call and report his ER visit to the VA and see about getting him in to see a different doctor.  They advised he would have to come into the ER there instead because there weren’t any same day appointments available.  I began getting things around for us to leave..


yup, flat tire on the BACK diver side.  Fine, okay. We will just take the truck.. except, did I mention his check engine light is one and it sounds like it’s about to blow? or that his brakes are going out – as in you have to brake to the floor just to get it to slow down?  OR that the wire is showing on the inner part of his front two tires?!

I call my mom, — Can I just say, THANK GOD FOR MOTHERS? Check with my step-dad, and have my brother ride with me in the ticking time bomb truck to get my moms car.  Get Forrest loaded up and head to Wichita.  We had a completely different experience there.  Not only were his nurses on top of things, very thorough and quick to get him checked in but the doctor we saw was as well.  So often we hear (and have personally dealt with) shit bedside or poor quality care with the VA.  Monday was a whole different ball game and I couldn’t be more thankful!  Actually, we’ve only been to the VA ER twice and both times have been a positive experience.  The doctor came in, checked all his vitals, listened to his back, chest and neck, checked the pulse in his foot, listened to the entire spill of what Forrest could remember and checked each area of pain.  They requested the records from WMC, and ran a complete work up of their own.  They were extremely thorough and helpful all around.  We may have spent the whole day there but we actually received quality care and left in better shape than we came.

Turns out.. he’s broken.  Oh so broken.  He didn’t just break the clavicle.. he shattered that shit. “…seven, eight, nine… uhh, yeah your clavicle is pretty dusted.”  His hip was in fact broke, three times actually, inside the socket which would make since with the knee pain.  He hit the “bumper nerve” in his knee just right which could cause loss of movement or drooping in his foot/ankle in which case we will be right back in the ER – thankfully, he’s slowing gaining back movement so I’m hopeful we won’t have that worry for much longer.  He also has a concussion.  Noggin’, left clavicle, right hip = wheelchair bound for 6 weeks.

Ahh, so I thought was it. How cute..

They told us he shouldn’t need surgery.  Tuesday Parsons VA called requesting to make him a follow up appointment NEXT WEEK for his ER visit on Friday.  Negative, pal.  We done went and had a second opinion.  Ortho went over the scans with us on Wednesday and discussed the healing process and his limitations for the next 6 weeks.  Thursday, I went through the day on auto pilot as I had every other day this week.  Taking care of the kids, attending school activities, breakfast, lunch, dinner, practices, baths, household chores, caring for the husband.. neglecting myself.  Forrest’s buddy came over to check on him.  Thank goodness because as our Series of Unfortunate Events would continue – the passenger front truck tire – FLAT.


I’ve been told before I’m like super human, super mom.. super.  Yea, well I am currently super fucking done.


Lt Dan – Forrest Gimp.. Supervised while his buddy changed my back tire to the spare.  Now, I’m cruising around in a swag wagon waiting for a blow out.  All good times over here.  Anyone wanna join our party? Rather ya didn’t.. Unless your the TV crew I’ve been waiting on.  WHERE YA AT?  You’re missing all the good shit.



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