Friday, October 22, 2010

A Week



It's been a week today...actually, 13 minutes ago from the time I am starting to type these words. I'm so tremendously thankful that Jason's on the road to improvement.

God, I praise You not only in the good, but in the storms...and in those storms, You have such a beautiful way of producing such beauty still...You're amazing.

Oh yeah, while I took the update pictures, I realized I look like Elphaba in my green mask. Hmmmm...Halloween costume?







Sunday, October 17, 2010

Jason Hearts Puffy Socks




I had an interesting weekend to say the least. We went to the Valley High football game Friday night. After Valley was up 30 something to 0 at halftime, we went ahead and left for home. On the way home, I called in some yummy Waffle House. We stopped by Video Warehouse and rent three movies. Jason kept talking about wanting to go hunting in the morning because it was opening day of rifle season in Georgia. He said that he wanted to get some good sleep, but he needed to clean all his guns.

Jason’s always in a hurry. He eats fast because working for a surveying company, you learn to eat quickly and live out of a truck. When we get home, I complain because he begins to bring all his gun “things” into the living room.

Back at the ranch, Bill Maher, one of his favorites, was coming on. It was 11 p.m. I remember feeling yucky because I was eating Waffle House at such a late time, but then again, isn’t Waffle House so much better late into the night?

I remember telling Jason, “Oh yay! My boyfriend John Legend is on Bill Maher!” He was focused on his gun stuff though and didn’t really comment. All I remember next is my head buzzing and looking back on it, seemingly slow motion as I discovered what had just happened.

I couldn’t hear. I don’t know how long, but it seemed like a while. I figured out that Jason was yelling at me to call 9-1-1. At that point, thinking how I couldn’t hear, I figured he had accidentally shot me and that’s why I couldn’t hear. I was sitting about 5 feet away from him on the love seat while he was on the couch. Then I saw blood. At the time, a drop would seem like a gallon to me. I remember it being on the floor, but not even worrying about the carpet. Jason was screaming for me to grab something to stop the blood. Leave it to me….I grabbed a…

Dish towel.

I did. I grabbed a dish towel. He said, with some expletives, that the dish towel would not work. I grabbed a bath towel and leaned down to him to help. But then he said we needed to make a tourniquet and to get his belt. So, I located a belt and he wrapped it around his leg.

Oh yeah, during my running around, I was on the phone with 9-1-1 screaming that my husband had shot himself accidentally while cleaning his …glock. Yes, it was his glock. Okay, I don’t know a lot about guns, but I knew he wasn’t going hunting with a glock. But, it just so happened that while he was gathering all that gun stuff, he figured he should clean this one as well.

A glock sucks in my humble opinion as of 11:06 p.m. et Friday October 15, 2010. I learned that disassembling and cleaning it means that the trigger has to be pulled. What Jason didn’t realize was that the magazine that he was looking at IN his case wasn’t the only one; he had TWO for this gun. When he looked in the chamber, there was nothing there. What he didn’t know was that there was a magazine in the gun. His speedy gun cleaning had now turned into our worst nightmare.

A 9 mm hydro shock hollow point plus P (I have no idea if this net out of verbiage is correct…LOL) entered my husband’s inner thigh, out the other side and into our leather couch.

Everything else is bit of a blur to me. I did call my mom and apparently told her that Jason had shot himself. Not clarifying that it was an accident til later. I laugh now looking back on that. I called my neighbor after 9-1-1 because I knew I needed people around me. We have the best neighbors in the world.
One thing we learned is that the ambulance/EMT’s can’t come “to” the house until the police arrive. While I understand the policy, in our scenario, it sucked! We heard the ambulance about ten minutes before the police arrived and they parked a few houses down. Really?!

I called 9-1-1 back not knowing the policy and screamed that they were at the wrong house and surely they had figured that out by now. I told them who my dad was as well and asked if they could get in touch with him. I had no idea if he was on duty, but I couldn’t get service on my blackberry at this point.

I’ll break the next scary moments down in a few short sentences:
I rode in the front of the ambulance.
I watched Jason shaking on the stretcher like a horror movie victim which scared me though I had the fire chief and the EMT driving say that it was just his adrenaline compensating for blood loss, etc.
I tried numerous times to call people, but my blackberry was toast. It wouldn’t work until we were nearly at EAMC.

At the hospital, there were apparently 2 specialists waiting to examine Jason’s condition before leaving for the evening. Praise GOD ALMIGHTY that he missed the femoral artery (though we were pretty sure that was missed because the blood loss wasn’t massive). No bone was touched. Praise GOD! There could be nerve damage and the bullet made its way through the muscle. And, there is shrapnel as well, but after we saw what will become Jason’s good dr friend (I sure hope…bc good dr friend looks JUST like Jason Bateman…and yes, I was checking the dr out after Jason was in the “safe zone”.) Dr. Foster, he stated that he’s not concerned with the shrapnel. Oh, also (sorry I stink at telling stories), the Dr. said he wouldn’t have used staples, but that of course he couldn’t “undo” that now. Jason has crutches too-they suck. Jason and the crutches are not friends.

As I sat there with Jason, I realized that he truly is the love of my life. Not that I didn’t know that before, but the situation puts things into perspective. I love this man so much that it can’t be measured. I know that’s normal for you to say if you’re in a happy marriage, but I really can’t fully express what he is to me. He’s the most intelligent man I know…most handsome…his sweet moments compensate for all the times he’s not Mr. Touchy Feely. He can do anything…I mean anything. From baking me THE most beautiful Hello Kitty cake to designing his own crown molding, answering strange questions (at least to me) on Jeopardy, to making his own camera remote to take pictures so he didn’t have to buy one…I mean C’MON! To me, feeling how much I love him leads me to the pure beautiful knowledge that God paired us to be here on earth together.

I will keep everyone updated on his injury. Thank you again for your prayers, kind words, visits, and love. It has meant a lot to us for sure. Oh, and Jason if you ever read this, you owe me for cleaning your leg guts from the couch arm, wall, and dvd player.

Love,
Your Wife

P.S.
You KNOW I got pictures. WARNING: they can be considered gross, so if you’re a pansy, stop reading/looking NOW! You were warned :) I kept the super gross one's out...you're welcome!


some of the mess on the living room floor :(




Entry & Exit wounds (not too good of a job on the staples IMO)



The patient resting talking to friends and family after we got home Saturday afternoon...


What the bullet did to our couch.........
A fully intact bullet and the one that went through Jason's leg and couch...
He become quite a fan of these snuggle muffin socks in the hospital:
Stupid bullet.
His hand injury......




Tuesday, June 22, 2010

True Story




This is the true story of my morning.

I got up at 7 a.m. (true story) so that I could get to my actual office AT work by 8 because I knew I was behind on a lot of follow up items.

Earlier in the early hours, I heard Jason get up and go watch t.v. I also observed that Trip was crying in his cage. This did not alarm me because
a.) he loves Jason more than his food which he literally eats within seconds
b.) he loves Jason more than smelling of Dixie (and my) butt
c.) SURELY Jason would pay attention to his beloved lab and
d.) my sleep was super good and I was having a really good dream about James McAvoy (okay not really, but wishful thinking may make this happen for me…sorry Jason)

Once I get up, I selflessly, like a good doggy mother, disregard my needs (great urge to urinate, brush my teeth, and clean the crust from my lazy eyes) and go take care of Dixie and Trip. I also subconsciously think that this is great practice for when I’m a mother to a human creation. I pat myself on the back lots of mornings for this selfless act of pure love. This is right before I curse at Trip for irritating me to no end.

I open his cage and TA DAAAAAAAAAAA…he suddenly ejects himself from the cage as if he were Pamela Anderson on Baywatch shaking her head in figure 8-type movements to rid of herself of ocean water. Except…it.wasn’t.ocean.water. IT was PEE! Pee, pee, pee, peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee all OVER the place. There’s PEE EVERYWHERE (see Bob Saget in Dumb and Dumberer for his version btw).

I quickly guide him to the front door to rid myself of this peeing piece of crap monster dog. How DARE I sacrifice my morning routine for you dog!

Have I mentioned I’m naked? Because I am. Well, I am. And somehow I forget this and open the front door to let him run free. He continues Pamela Anderson’ing from his cage to the front door and tracks the “stuff” on the carpet.

I realize I’m naked at some point. And I run to go throw clothes on quickly and efficiently. This action item consisted of me putting on a bathing suit cover-up, that isn’t very “covery”.

Pulling Trip’s cage out is a task in itself and he runs in once I open the front door and shakes again. Now, I’m ½ dressed and drenched in dog pee. Fun times.

Once the cage is in the back yard, I turn the hose pipe switch from sprinkler mode. Then, the cold water shoots out quickly into my eyeballs, nose, and mouth. This gets better I promise. I bend over to begin washing out the cage and realize that my cover-up is tucked into something…into an area…that’s all I’m saying. I’m just thankful my wonderful neighbor, Mr. Johnny, wasn’t outside. Or maybe he was and just knew not to scream, “CRYSTAL, YOUR BATHING SUIT COVER-UP IS TUCKED INTO YOUR CHEEKS!”

I gave Trip a shower and cursed him some more, then I showered (no, not with him). I’m clean now. And, I’ve completed most of my “to do” items. Does this mean I’m ready for motherhood? Wait, I’m naked again…
JUST KIDDING