Two Hospitals and a Hurricane

You guys, we have SO much to cover. I'm overwhelmed just thinking about it, but if I don't write now I feel like I'm just asking to have something else huge to write about tomorrow.

First up and chronologically last-up, Houston- my home town, and current home to my parents, brother, and two sets of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and all my childhood memories has been hit by a hurricane and catastrophic flooding event. A thousand year flood. In the words of my actuary-trained brother, "my tables didn't even have a percentage for that." It is devastating. People are dying because they are trapped in the attics they escaped to as the waters rose. Having lived through several major floods, including one that found us paddling down Kingwood Drive, over stop signs and alongside traffic lights, in my dad's old canoe, this exceeds them all. Entire highways are underwater, airports are shut down, the water already exceeds 20 feet in some areas and the heavy pouring rain is expected to continue through Thursday.

My parent's new home is fairly high up, but it's on a lake and that lake is slowly crawling towards their back door. This is the last picture they sent; it's already up over all the steps we take down to the lake from their pool area. It's up another foot since then. They will be fine- the boat and boathouse will likely be gone, and there will be a lot of property damage and a lot of cleanup, but physically they should be safe. There are people who have already lost that assurance and it breaks my heart. Water is so damaging. Please keep Houston and its surrounding areas in your thoughts, and if you want to help, here is an excellent list of places to do so. (I'd also add the Texas Diaper Bank to that list; an excellent charity at all times, they are particularly needed here as relief organizations typically do not stock diapers and they are expensive and so necessary.) (My brother went to a friend's house last night across town and got trapped there, so thoughts for his safe return to my parent's house are also appreciated because while he TOTALLY shouldn't have traveled last night (sorry bro), I also know it's killing him to not be able to help my parents right now, just like it's killing my sister and I to not have him there making them prepare for things instead of "just keeping an eye on the situation" zomg.)

Second up, and chronologically first, I flew to Minneapolis on Tuesday to see my grandpa in the hospital. It was a perfect window for me. School had started, James's swim school was closed for the week, and all my other aunts and uncles who had flown up on Friday when the heart attack happened needed to go home before their next scheduled trip up. My mom could have handled it alone, but I didn't want to her to have to, and I just wanted to touch my grandpa and hug my grandma.

So I did.

He's at the University of Minnesota Medical Center, which if you must be in an cardiac ICU far from home, is an excellent place to be. The care is incredible and you can walk between the hotel, hospital, and lots of restaurants. And it's Minneapolis, so even though it's August, you can actually walk around outside without melting.

Seeing my grandpa heavily sedated in the ICU was both significantly harder and also more reassuring than I anticipated. His nurse was very encouraging. This is a long path and there's nothing stopping him from taking each slow step of it. His brain function remained amazingly good and his heart was healing. There's just a lot of improvements and adjustments and body systems that need to come back online along the way to recovery. And we knew they still considered him on a likely path to recovery. But still. It's hard to see him going on 6 days without being responsive.

holding hands; the 62-year-long wedding ring groove tugged my heart

And even harder, seeing my grandma soldier on in this bewildering new world without her mate as an active participant beside her. She was so strong in the room. So cheerful and strong and steady. We walked in that Wednesday morning and she took his hand and told him, among other things, "You're doing such a good job and making such great progress. You're such a strong man and I love you." She'd tell him about her day and who was visiting and checking in on him by phone. Every time we made her leave the room for a walk or food she'd tell the nurse to "take good care of my boyfriend," and when she left at night, she sang him "You Are My Sunshine." It was brutal and beautiful to witness. But out of the room you could see the strain and the worry and the overwhelming nature of it all. It was hard not to just keep hugging her.

Interestingly for me was also the realization that I was there for my mom in addition to just being there for myself. That I wasn't just her daughter and my grandpa's granddaughter, there to be reassured and hugged and made to feel better. I was also a 34-year-old adult who could see the fear in my mom's eyes every time she turned away from my grandmother to check my grandpa's labs or talk to his doctor, an adult who could also give- companionship, an ear, a latte, something.

I didn't do much- I wasn't there long and others came earlier and stayed longer, but I'm so glad I was there at all. It was also great to see my younger cousin who lives there now and see her cheerfully driving us around, chatting with my grandpa like he was seconds away from responding, and kindly answering my grandma's questions for the dozenth time. Family. Sometimes the reason for seeing then isn't good, but it's always good to see them anyway.

The kids continued to settle in to school and seem to love their teachers. On Wednesday night James sent me a text that read, "white bread with dinner and cookies for dessert- things are getting crazy!" As always, he makes things so easy for me- he handles the kids on his own far better than I would if he ever actually left me overnight with them.

I flew home Thursday morning, in time to do some work and then start my new job teaching barre for TCU. It was a good class- a little chaotic as I didn't know where all the equipment was or that my class was only 50 minutes instead of 60 so I rolled into the yoga teacher's class after mine (oops!), but fun and sweaty and exciting to be in a new place.

My mom flew home that night to a hurricane watch and has been in the house ever since. My grandpa wasn't conscious while we were there, but joyfully and SO THANKFULLY, he started coming out of the sedation Friday and they were able to pull the breathing tube last night! It's hard- he doesn't know what happened and he's in pain from the broken ribs, the tube, the actual heart attack, a random broken finger they didn't realize he had until he could tell them... but it's such a big step forward and SUCH a relief for my grandma who has sat by him every day for 10 days now.

In other adventures, Claire had her first soccer game on Saturday. She's on a new team and she loves it and we're almost excited to lose our Saturdays to a new round of soccer games. The Bear really likes aggressive team sports.

Landon, who cheerfully will tell you he does not, spent the entire hour entertaining our toddler contingent. He's like a tween toddler wrangler and he loves it.

Cora also spent some time making sure her daddy was focused on her.

We had a PTA party last night where we brought the house down by playing the paper bag game and a new giant pig version of Pass the Pigs! I told our babysitter 8:30 and it turned into 10 because we're CRAZY. Then, just to keep the crazy going, and because we felt left out of all the hospital and hurricane drama, Cora took a header off her scooter at top speed this morning, straight into a curb.

She was wearing her helmet (ALWAYS) but still got a slice taken out of her eyebrow, so after we wiped away the chainsaw massacre amount of blood, I whisked her off to the Children's Hospital Emergency Room, both of us singing Moana songs all the way.

She was adorable and charming and chatty in triage... she then strangely but adorably refused to sit in the bed in the hospital room (a portend of TERRIBLE THINGS TO COME), but otherwise handled the experience with her usual confidence and aplomb.

Until it was time to lie down in the bed. She had no idea stitches were coming. She had no idea what stitches even were. She just needed to lie down in the damn bed so a doctor could "clean her boo boo" and "look at it." Except FUCK. NO. said Cora Linnae who promptly proceeded to lose her mind.

The screaming went on for days. She clocked a nurse in the face. A straight jacket blanket and TWO additional medical personnel were called in (one, and then another after she got loose and had more flailing, now with a fishhook stuck in her eyebrow). It was insane. She screamed until she dry heaved and then she screamed more. The pediatric plastic surgery trained wound tech said he wanted to do 5 stitches but could only safely do 3 due to her "objections." Objections that continued for THIRTY MORE MINUTES after they were done. I have never, ever in all my 10 years of parenting seen a fit like that. She kicked over chairs, threw my purse across the room, and crouched into a corner hissing and spitting. I talked to her as you would a feral animal and eventually, twenty interminable minutes later, got her to sit in my lap, then change, and then leave the room.

As we walked past the nurses, all wide-eyed at their station, Cora turned and matter-of-factly said, "I just did not want to lie down."

She was fully recovered over a bowl of mac and cheese at her favorite restaurant.

I was fully recovered after ordering something "large and with alcohol in it."

Holy hell you guys. She still doesn't even know she got stitches.

We ended the day with GOT, wine, and a snoring Winston we had to put out of the room so we could properly cheer on and be grossed out by the incest afoot. Winston sits on his throne and judges you for watching.

So my grandpa continues to slowly improve. We're not out of the woods and he'll be in the ICU at least a week longer, but I got to talk to him- TALK TO HIM!- today on the phone when he asked my uncle to call me because he was worried about Cora. He's tired and scratchy and couldn't talk for long, but it was so good to hear his voice! Almost totally worth the stitches screaming banshee situation. But please do continue to keep him and my family in your thoughts. A family that is now in danger of flooding and is also going to have a harder time getting up to MSP to be with him and my grandma.

(And it's now midnight and brother found out he's under a mandatory evacuation order at his friend's house, so he's supposed to be ready for the National Guard to come by at 8 a.m. to ferry him to another location that is still not his house or my parent's house. This is such a mess. Oh Houston. I need to stop checking twitter updates and go to bed so I can keep pointlessly checking tomorrow.)

I hope all my Houston and gulf shore readers are safe tonight! This is such a scary and awful situation; the Lag Liv family hearts are with you.

(Monday morning 6 a.m. update: my brother remains under mandatory evacuation order without a way to actually evacuate. The Brazos river, already up 20 feet and expecting to rise another 30 (!) is next to his friend's house, and the situation is dangerous. My mom texted this morning that the water rose up to their pool last night, swallowing it, and continuing towards their house. They're sealing doors and windows and moving thing upstairs. It is still just pouring rain and all of Houston is drowning in it.)