Humpty Dumpty

I cracked up when my dear friend JoAnne who is a physical therapist saw this X-ray of my shoulder reconstruction and replied, "I'm glad they were able to put Humpty Dumpty back together again!"

I started physical therapy, but it is a slow process.  As you can see in the picture, there are still several broken bones in the ball and a few on the shaft sticking out to the right.  Currently I am only allowed to work on moving my elbow.  It is so foreign having a lame appendage!

How far a healthy arm an extend.

How far robo arm can extend.

LOVE this man!  Adam helping
with therapy - every day!

The cool part is being able to feel metal under the skin.  Every so often I ask the kids, "Do you want to feel your ROBOT mom?"





I have to admit, I was a little disappointed when I did not set off the metal detector at the airport.  Maybe it will happen when I get some metal in my head.  Oh dear... When in the world did my goal in life become setting off a metal detector with my head??   I need to stop now.

Christmas - A Gift

Christmas was a lovely time spent with family.  We drove all over the place, but we enjoyed waking up with Adam's dad and his incredible wife Gloria.








We ate a mountain of food at my parents' house with my brother and his wife Teri and my Aunt Carol, and we enjoyed a traditional shot or two of anisette liquor with Adam's mom, sister and her husband and daughter.  By 7:00 I was exhausted and crashed out on the bed.

This entire Christmas season, we have been in awe and humbled by the kindness that has been showered upon our family.  I can not even begin to describe how unworthy I feel from the generosity shown to our family.






We were shocked when Christmas presents started arriving for our children from anonymous friends. Did I blog that I wasn't buying presents this year?  I don't remember!  It is true - for the first time ever, we didn't sent out Christmas cards or buy gifts.  This year we were celebrating the gift of life, which is fine when you are 42, but not so much when you are 9.  Needless to say, our kids were thrilled with the stockings and gifts and love they received.




It was also beautiful to watch them find joy in giving gifts to others.  My dad took them to the Dollar Store prior to Christmas, and they had a blast carefully selecting gifts and spending their earned money (and I am sure some of Grandpa's money) to bring joy to others.

What do the KIDS think?

After nearly a month apart, I was missing our kids terribly!  When they finally arrived in California, I was ready to squish them with hugs and smother them with questions.  I wanted to know everything... How were they doing?  What were they thinking?  How were they feeling?  Were they worried?  My questions were endless.





Caleb, our happy go lucky child, maintained his positive spirit and had no interest in my peaceful interrogation.  He just wanted to play.  He made swords with tinker toys and candidly told me that the only thing that he was upset about was that he missed a playdate at his best friend's house in Puerto Madryn because he had to fly to Buenos Aires to see me in the hospital!  Wow.  Awesome - I think?!?!






SoJo, who is most cuddly and chatty, said that she cried every night before bed, and that she missed us, but she wasn't afraid.  She LOVED my short hair and wanted to cut hers in the same fashion.  Once I colored my hair, she loved it even more, and thought I looked totally cool.  She enjoys looking at my body and scars and stated, "Mom, with that scar, and that scar, and that scar and the one on your head, you look tough!"  Yeah!!  That's right.  You have a kick-ass mom SoJo!


Carmela was candid and clear that she wasn't worried because I wasn't worried.  She remembers seeing me in the hospital two days after the accident, and I was a hot mess.  She didn't like seeing the tubes with "cranberry juice" coming out of my head, but I was talking and acting "normally enough," so she thought everything would be fine.


She admits that the only time she lost it was went Grammy and Nonno said that they had to visit me in Buenos Aires because I might die.  That freaked her out, but when her analytical brain asked what was the precent chance that I would die, and they said 2%, her fears were relieved.  Then she was upset because she had to get back on the plane again and miss a school party.  She has also been an adamant supporter and lover of the new hair - her first question was, "Can I color my hair the same as yours?"

It became apparent that the kids and I were in the same state of mind throughout my hospital stays in Buenos Aires.  We were all living in La-La land that there was really not much wrong and everything would be fine.  What a blessing from God, and so far, I continue to get better every day.  I am back to assigning and checking homework for the kids, and I am loving it.  There is nothing better than listening to Caleb read me a dragon story!

Brightening up the World

The nasty dreadlock I begged and begged
Adam to cut out.

When I had my nasty hospital dreadlock still attached to my head, I told Lisa (Adam's sister) she had free reign on my hair the next time I saw her.  Whatever she wanted.  I just wanted that dreadlock gone.

The time came this week.  The first thing she did was clean up the haircut Adam gave me with paper scissors, and next came the bleach.  She got my hair white, and BAM, she brought some color and love into the world.  How can you not smile when you see this hair-do pass you on the street?  Well... my mom freaked, but really, it is a shot of joy.  

Aside from a run in with hydrogen peroxide in the seventh grade, this is the first time I have ever colored my hair.  Go BIG or Go Home!! Right?!?  

Love it, and Love you Sista!  Thanks for brightening up the world!

Now I know Carmela and SoJo are DYING to get matching styles with me, but Sista - we have to talk before that happens!!

Grammy, Nonno, and the Kids

Grammy and Nonno, my (Anne's) parents, arrived in Buenos Aires a few hours after I was hit by the car.  They were ready for a lovely three week vacation and looking forward to Iguazu Falls, whales on the Valdez Peninsula, penguins in Tombo, tea in Gaiman....  There was a long list of sites and sounds to enjoy.





Instead they spent their entire vacation taking care of Carmela, SoJo, and Caleb while Adam was managing the details and helping with my daily care.


Grammy and Nonno even flew the kids to Buenos Aires for five days, so they could see me.  It was awesome.

Poncho's birthday - Grammy and Nonno were invited to the party
at the ranch.  You couldn't ask for kinder friends. 

Stella - Sweetest of Friends

With the help of our incredible friends in Puerto Madryn, the kids (and my parents) were well taken care of and so loved.

And the Doctor Asked...Where Is Your Skull Piece???

Back in the States and off to the doctors!  Head and Shoulders!

On Wednesday I saw the orthopedic doctor who took one look and my shoulder x-ray, and gave me an interesting perspective on the damage.  He said there were more than 4 breaks, the ball of the bone was completely broken off and parts were shattered.  We could easily see the 4-6 inches of metal brackets used to hold the rest of the bone together and reattach the humorous to the ball.  Apparently, in the States the injury would have been a candidate for a shoulder replacement, but because I am so young (!!! He said that - so funny because I am feeling SO old), reconstruction is still an option.

Try not to laugh - do a Google image search... 

Next step, physical therapy.  He gave me a referral, and I asked how long it would take.  ONE YEAR.  I almost fell over.   What??  I told him I had been thinking about a month.  Nope.  Not even close.  I was like,  "Um... that is not going to work for me.  I am a bike commuter, and I need to be able to ride in July."  Good news was he said I would be able to ride my bike.  I just won't be able to lift my arm higher than my shoulder for about a year.  There is going to be some really long pit hair going on, but that is cool.  Apparently the hot new thing in CA is bleaching and coloring your arm pit hair.  NO JOKE.  Are you ready Seattle?!

Toni and Lisa - Adam's mom and sister.
Taking such good care of me.

Thursday morning Toni and Lisa took me to see the neurologist.  We had no idea what to expect.  Would I be in the OR next week?  Turns out the doctor is on the conservative side.  He said that the surgery was elective - apparently a lot of people live without portions of the skull, and the surgery involves risk... stroke, heart attack, blindness, paralysis, bleeding, infection, death...  By the time he was done with the risk, I was electing - No Thank You.  He also said that based on my meningitis, he would wait six months from the original surgery to do the replacement.

Then he asked where my skull piece was.  I looked at him funny, and he seriously asked, "Is it in your stomach?"  Then I looked at him crazy.  I know I have an insatiable appetite, but I did not eat my skull piece.  I don't think.  My memory is not so great, but I really don't think I ate my skull.  Was it dipped in chocolate?

Toni pulled out the stack of X-rays, and he started going through them.  When he found my head shots he noticed that the skull was fractured in multiple pieces.  There was more than one piece.  I then suggested that I thought they were probably in the trash - not in my stomach.  He showed us a few things on the x-ray (hematoma and big blood splotches on my brain), and then looked me in the eye and said, "That doctor saved your life.  You would have died without the surgery."

What?!?  One more reality check.  This ordeal has been a little more serious than I though.  I really want to go back to Buenos Aires and give my brain surgeon a hug.  Maybe HE ate my skull pieces.  Maybe they are in HIS stomach.

Mites and Moving

Mites infested our house in Puerto Madryn while we were in Buenos Aires, and when Adam arrived on Monday he was overwhelmed with the nasties.  Little bugs were crawling all over our bedrooms and clothes; my mom's body had been attacked, and Adam had to clean it all up and move out.

The mite infestation came from the pigeons that live all over our corner compound.  The owner of the casitas told Adam he could move in the home next door while they fumigated, so Adam spent the day cleaning, preparing our things to go into storage during our return to the States and packing for the trip.  

It was a huge and dirty task, but finally he finished and fell asleep in the casita next door with the kids.  When they woke up the next morning, all of them had fresh and itchy mite bites.  The new house was also infested and when they stepped outside, the small bugs were being sprayed everywhere by the cleaners who were dislodging the piles of bird poop from the roofs and balconies.  It was a disaster.

At the hotel!

Without hesitation, Adam got the suitcases, put the kids in the car and drove to a hotel.  Done.

Fun with friends!  Stella and Benja!!

They did get to enjoy time with friends.  I miss them all so much. Too too much.

Wake-Up; Break-Down

Port/PICC removal - it was about 18 inches
long up in my vein into my chest.

Since I woke up in the hospital on November 18th, I was rarely worried, or scared, or angry.  I put my trust in God, and I have had peace that everything will work out for the best one way or another.

I knew my body was damaged, but I completely missed the severity of the damage.  I wondered why I was in the ICU with all the REALLY sick people.  I would see body bags go by the glass walls of my room and think, "Those are the people that belong in ICU, not me, but whatever..."

I believed that once I got out of the hospital, things would quickly go back to normal.  When that didn't happen, I assumed I just needed a little more time, naps, food, and all the antibiotics to end. Every day I felt a little better, and I was walking more and more - with the help of Adam and my brother holding my hand.

On Monday morning, Adam flew back to Puerto Madryn to put our things in storage, take care of our kids and prepare them for returning to the States.  Bob and I spent the morning in the hospital getting my last round of antibiotics, having my port/picc removed, paying bills, and finally getting the 17 staples taken out of my shoulder.

Those 17 staples were the beginning of my wake up call and break down.  I had been on strict orders to keep my arm motionless in a sling, but after the doctor took out the staples he wanted me to move my arm.  I tried and could only move my elbow a few inches, and I couldn't move my shoulder at all.  I was shocked.  The doctor then grabbed my arm and started moving it for me.  He didn't fair much better, and just increased the discomfort.

Last shot of the staples
before they were removed.

I always knew I would need a little physical therapy on my arm; LITTLE being the key word.  I was thinking a month would be sufficient.  I expected that I would quickly be able to move my arm with some tightness and soreness, but close to full range of motion.  I would just need to do some exercises to build up the muscle strength.  Instead I have an angular appendage hanging next to my body that thrives on making life difficult.  I have completely given up trying to shave my arm pits, and getting dressed by myself is comical.



Over the next 24 hours with my brother on our flights to the US,  I reflected, and I finally began to realized and accept the severity of my trauma.  As I snuggled into his shoulder, tears flowed down my cheeks.  I slowly began to understand why everyone wanted me to go back to the States and that my problems were too big for sitting on the beach in Madryn.  Maybe I was in the ICU for a reason.

Zipper Head

Witness the stitches coming out, and the very young neurosurgeon who did it!  The doctor was not happy to learn that I was flying back to the States on Monday.  He told me that I should not fly anywhere until I have the piece of my skull put back.  All of the neurosurgeons at the hospital said the same thing.  I think they just want to cut my head open and do it themselves.  

He did forget one stitch, but fortunately I am married to a doctor (OK maybe not the exact same kind of doctor, but those are minor details...), and he removed the last one at the dinner table with toe nail clippers.  Classy.  I did insist that there was a lot of sterilizing alcohol involved.

Enjoy the video!!

Fat and Bald and ... Whiny!

Nearly three weeks since the accident that I have no memory or recollection of, and every day I am working on being patient and letting my body heal.  One of the biggest surprises has been my relentless hunger.  I usually pride myself on eating a healthy diet, and right now, I am just loving Doritos, potato chips, chocolate chip cookies, soda...  I eat a meal every two hours and snack regularly.  I am consuming a huge amount of calories, and not doing any exercise, so by the end of all this I may be half-bald AND fat.  Awesome.  Bring it on.


I was released from the hospital on Tuesday. I'm now receiving home health care visits every eight hours for injected antibiotics.

My brother flew in last week from Utah, which was a total surprise and turned me into a sobbing basket case when he walking in my ICU room.  He and Adam have been taking care of me, and the two of them are awesome and terrible at the same time.  Every time I say something looks good in the grocery store, it ends up in the basket.  Today I begged them not to buy the giant nougaty almond candy bar because they are addictive and just too delicious, but it came home with us, and now it takes all of my strength to stay out of the box.  I fail more often than not.  I'm not really complaining.

I continue to work on my lack of patience.  Apparently it takes a long time for your body to heal after getting smashed by a car.  Every day I feel a little better and have a little more energy, but I have such a long way to go, that it feels like this process is going to take FOREVER.  There are so many weird things wrong - like not being able to feel the left side of my head.

I am also really annoyed that I am not getting my way.  Adam has taken over all decision making regardless of my protests.  He, in agreement with all of our family, decided that I need to return to the USA for my next brain surgery, and he booked me a ticket for MONDAY.  My brother agrees with him, of course, and he changed his ticket, so that he can personally chaperone my unreliable ass back to my parents' house in Southern California.  Personally I was looking forward to spending Christmas in the Argentina summer, and I really don't understand why I need an American titanium skull bone so badly to mess up those plans.

Before we left the States, I was asking if we were coming back to visit at any time.  My unequivocal response was, "No way! The only way we are coming back is if there is a problem."  Who decided a missing skull bone was a problem?  Adam is convinced that if he lets me go back to Puerto Madryn now, I will just spend the next month sitting on the beach drinking mate with my friends... um... What is wrong with that?  It is the middle of summer.  The beach is relaxing.  My friends are awesome and would totally help me if something happened.  AHHHHH!!!!

I could keep complaining about how I don't get my way, and continue to sound like a small child, but I feel a little like an ass since Adam has been absolutely amazing throughout this whole process.  He has done everything from gently bathing my decrepit body to managing the mountain of hospital paperwork and payments to overseeing the home nurses who keep trying to push the antibiotics into my port too fast.  He pays attention to detail and has taken responsibility for managing the process.  There is no way I could even begin to do this without him.  I still have trouble finding my way back from the grocery store 1.5 blocks away - seriously.  My brain is not quite what it used to be!  Maybe I just need a shot of tequila to get it back on track.

I also have to give a huge thank you to those of you who continue to pray for me.  My faith brings me peace daily, and I truly could not do this without the help of God.  Please don't stop!!!

Thank you to those of you who have helped get the ball rolling with Kaiser in CA.  Jamie, Sharon, and Lisa have spent hours and hours on the phone, working on my records, getting me a new California Kaiser number, and trying to book appointments in a severely broken medical system.  Somehow they are managing to do things my primary care physician in Seattle is unable to help with.  It is quite impressive, and I am forever indebted.

I was hit by JESUS!

SoJo dressed up as a Troll for her part in the school Act.

On Thursday Adam and I were able to learn more information about the accident from a lawyer friend of a friend who obtained the police report.  I have no recollection of the accident, and my last memories that morning are running around La Plaza de Mayo on my way to the river front.

According to the police report, there were two witnesses and both stated that I was safely and correctly crossing the street on a green walk signal.  That is a relief!! Whoot!!! A 20 year old Ford Fiesta was stopped at the red light, when the driver decided to accelerate on the red, and subsequently, I was hit.  The driver was a Peruvian named Jesus!!  I was hit by Jesus!!!  

Good news is that Adam and I both forgive the guy.  It was before 7 in the morning, and Jesus was sober.  He only owns his car, and doesn't have any other possessions of value.  He is paid up on his insurance, so potentially that could help cover some of the costs, but the lawyer said that would take about 3 years because there have to be two trials first - a criminal trial and then a civil trial.  Neither of us are holding our breath on that one.  

The best part of this whole situation for which I am SO thankful, is that this happened to me rather than one of our kids.  That thought alone is fabulous.  I admit that I have some PTSD around streets now, and I am probably going to be a little wack-a-doodle every time I cross a street, especially with my kids, but that is a small price to pay to keep them alive and healthy.

Making Me Slobbery Seattle

What's up Seattle?  Y'all trying to make me messy?  Your package of love was hand delivered to our apartment Thursday afternoon and within a few minutes of opening it, I was a blubbering fool, and my brother was handing me paper towels to try and keep the floor dry from my tears.

I don't even know what to say.  Y'all are incredible.  I love you too much, and I am humbled by your complete and beautiful kindness.

Disclaimer to Aaron and Linnea!!!  Adam will deliver your lovely bag of Halloween candy to Carmela, SoJo, and Caleb when he sees them on Monday, BUT I did see the bag first, and....  don't be too mad at me.... some of it looked so good, I had to eat it.  That Milky Way was just calling my name!!  Don't worry, there is plenty left for the kids!  Thank you!!

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good – I am overwhelmed and unbelievable grateful for the kindness, support, generosity, and love sent from friends and through the YouCaring site to help our family.  The messages of love and strength brought tears to my eyes and filled me with so much gratitude.  Y'all have reached out in so many ways, from assisting with medical advice, our children, navigating insurance companies, supporting my parents in Puerto Madryn, praying...  I can not thank you enough.  What an amazing gift.  It has also been hugely helpful financially. My first round of bills was over 40K, and we had to pay out of pocket.  It is a huge hit – so thank you friends for covering half of it!!!  Wow! 

Another good - I am so thankful for my faith.  I gave this whole situation over to the Lord.  The outcome is up to Him.  Please, please continue to pray for us.  I have many more hurdles to master. 

The Bad – After getting released from the hospital on Saturday the 25^th, I ended up feeling ill, feverish, and within a short time, I was vomiting every two hours.  I don’t know where all the vomit came from.  I ate a small pile of lentils and rice and proceeded to throw-up that same pile for 12 hours.  This also meant going right back to the hospital.  The hospitals have saved my life, but they also come with many discomforts that I was unaware of prior to this experience.  

For example:

Brain surgery stitches

1  1.    Doing all your bathroom business IN BED in a plastic tray.  That is just weird, it sucks, someone wipes your butt, it is awful.

2  2.  Strange things happen at strange times…  the floors get buffed at 1:30 in the morning with the loudest machine imaginable.

3  3.  Doctors and nurses have parties in the ICU with little kids at 4:30 in the morning right outside your room.

4  4. Cold baths can happen at anytime - especially in the middle of the night.  You are jolted awake with a bucket of cold water being dumped and rubbed all over you.  Then it is time to change the bedding which got soaked throughout the process. 

5  5. Medications are administered, your temperature is taken, blood pressure squeezed out of you – once or twice every night despite your best efforts to sleep.  This is probably a good thing, but it sucks. 

    6.  Oh the pain in the ass.  Literally.  After a week stuck in bed, my butt hurts so badly.  Now I understand what bed sores are.  Shockingly painful.  It is like sharp nerve jolts to your ass. 

7  7.  I can’t leave out the constipation.  I can't move much and I eat and eat, my gosh, my belly has grown and gotten hard as a brick.

Shoulder surgery staples

8  8. The pain – that is something new to get used to.  Living in a lot of pain.  My shoulder is a wreck of pain from the surgery.  My brain feels constantly plugged – like I need to pop my ears, but I can’t.  Bed butt sores.  Shoulder blade muscle tightness…  And then there is the constant battery of body tests - blood samples several times a day, electrode hook ups, blood pressure to the extreme, and mountains of hair being ripped out of my arm from tapings.

9  9. And last but not least, I am scratchy.  I haven’t had a proper shower or bath since all of this started and I am a wreck of dead skin, dandruff, scabs, and itches.  Sometimes I just lay in bed and scratch and scratch and scratch.  It feels so good, but it never goes away.  Raza raza raza…

The Ugly -  I am embracing the ugly.  It means I am alive.  After 1/3 of my head was shaved for the brain surgery, the rest of my hair was left in a rat’s nest.  By the time I woke up, I was sporting the first dreadlock of my life.  It was giant.  I couldn’t wait to be rid of it – despite Carmela and Sofia telling me it was cool, and that I looked like their yoga silks teacher.  During my few hours out of the hospital I begged Adam to cut my hair off.  My dad and Aunt Carol accepted the challenge of finding scissors in the city and within 30 minutes they were successful, and Adam chopped off a carcass in one solid piece from my head.  It was amazing.  There are lots of ugly things I still deal with.  My left eye is smaller and lower than my right.  My left temple is bulging with brain pressure. My right arm is covered in track marks, bruises and now has a semi-permanent port.  My left shoulder is swollen and immovable.  It has to remain in a sling 24/7 for the next 4-6 weeks.  Enjoy a small sampling of  the ugly pictures!