Roads

We are home now with two healthy little girls.  I could talk about how nothing in the world could have prepared for seeing my child come to after anesthesia.  I could talk about all the second guessing I’ve done, but it’s old news.  Deladis will be fine.  Her procedures went well, and now we are just going to watch her grow.

Coming home from a few days away always makes me feel an overwhelming sense of relief.  This time it made me think of all the roads we travel.  How all of us are trying to find home.  That place where things are comfortable.  John and I have found our home.  This little piece of a mountain holler is home for this season.  I hope it’s a long one.  The mountains will be home until we leave this earth.

To get to our little off-grid hideout, you have to be adventurous.  Not afraid to harm your vehicle on our unforgiving road.  The first thing you do is drop into the creek.

The entry

No, the bridge does not belong to us.  Yes, the creek is the road.  You are on the right path.  Keep following the creek.  The great thing about living off-grid is you literally can’t find our address on a computer, and so many maps.  We don’t exist to companies like AT&T or UPS.  It’s funny.  We’d have to pay the local cable company around $1,ooo to allow us to have cable television.  We aren’t going to do that.  But, back to the road.  You need to be serious to pay us a visit. If you have one of those “oh, crap” handles in your automobile, grab it now.

No Trespassing

Very soon you will come out of the creek and onto our little gravel road.  There is a little incline here, and in case you didn’t call to announce your visit, we have clearly posted for you three times that there will be no trespassing on this property.  Unless you are on very familiar terms with George, John, or myself (the latter of whom still would appreciate a call), you should have made prior arrangements for your visit.  Oh, unless you work for the natural gas company.  We do have protection here in the form of the dog in the photo, and my personal weapon of choice – a 12 inch cast iron skillet.  Yes, I mean business.

Up Hill

The road has been eaten out by the winter weather a bit and gets rough from here.  Stay on course and you will be fine.  We have had friends from the big city end up in the field sitting fearful that a mountain man with a shot gun would come out and give them a lesson about property, but that was after dark.

Again

Again, you will enter the creek and will remain there until you come to our cabin.  This is a rough spot and unless you hit it just right, you will drag.  But, we all drag sometimes, so you don’t have to be embarrassed by it.  We chose this road, you didn’t.

Our Cabin - An Antique

Then, you come to our cabin.  I’ll invite you in and smile.  Not many people risk vehicle damage to pay us a visit.  I’ll welcome you with coffee or spring water and a peanut butter cookie or a full supper on a good day.

You can workout with me hiking the cemetary hill.  We’ll workout in short pants for the first time in months.  We can enjoy the warm breeze as it plays in the hairs left on our legs from jeans weather.  🙂

Out of the Muck – Almost

1st flowers on the creek

Monday is Deladis’s procedures.  The Lord willing I’ll be back to writing and mothering two healthy little girls by Tuesday.  All who do that sort of thing, send prayer and good thoughts the way of my little one.  We’ll greatly appreciate it.  Until then, these flowers will be my words.

Wrasslin’ with the Devil

Wrasslin' with the Devil - 2008

My husband titled a painting Wrasslin’ with the Devil (www.haywoodart.com) last year. It depicted a snake handling preacher with snake in hands looking oddly fearful and brave at the same time. I feel like I’m that preacher. Ro is going to have a procedure done to check her urinary tract and bladder and some problems she has been having. It’s gotten bad enough that she doesn’t drink enough to keep herself hydrated as she doesn’t want to go to the bathroom. This was enough to land her in the hospital for four days after she caught a stomach virus that everyone had had and recovered quickly from. The problem is that I am having to trust a doctor to treat her properly. She will be under anesthesia, and more than likely I won’t be in the room.

The devil in this situation is many things – me dealing with past, me dealing with fear, me second guessing. Ro’s birth was an unnecessary c-section that happened because I was too trusting that another woman doctor would treat me ethically. Since, it has been hard for me to trust a doctor even with minor things. So, in turn I second guess whether Ro needs the procedure or not. I think what if some of the behaviors are habits now, left over from a problem now healed, not indicative of a larger problem. I wonder if the procedure is necessary. I wonder all this despite the fact that the symptoms are still around and no better. It is the scar that is in my face everyday that is the problem, and I’m trying to protect my child from being affected by that scar any further.

The thought of a child as young as her being put under anesthesia frightens me. I hate the thought of her feeling that loss of control before you slip under. I’m thankful for it too because she won’t remember anything after – the procedure itself – which is the point. I’m still thinking I might request that I be in the room while it is done. It is in the hospital though, so I’m not sure that will fly.

Ro had her first antibiotics ever just last month. I’m adamant about taking pharmaceuticals only when clearly necessary. Then, I’m told by one doctor that he thinks the type of antibiotic used was overkill. She has had to see three different doctors. So, then, I think, overkill, who can I trust not pull an overkill on my baby. I want to say, “You’re not in the practice of playing let’s see how much of what I know I can actually use, but in the practice of assisting the human body in healing itself.” Why is that so hard?

We live off-grid and unfortunately (though improving) the access to quality healthcare is slim. To see most types of specialists one would have to travel at least three hours. I do believe we have a fairly local urologist with good intentions for my child in my head. Now, it’s time to make my heart believe it and make the best decision for my baby.

The vomiting happened again last night and I soon realized where the bravery in the preacher’s eyes came from.  He felt called to handle snakes.  I am called to protect and nurture my child.  In order for him to handle the poisonous snake he had to let go and let God.  In this instance, I have to look beyond my past experiences, and let go and let God.