Christmas in Arizona

It was difficult living so far from our daughter and son-in-law. Tiffany and Bill lived in Sierra Vista, Arizona with their three girls, two of whom are adopted. We visited regularly the entire two years they lived there.  Whether we drove or flew, it was worth every penny, every mile, every time.  

Sierra Vista is situated in the southeastern corner of this magnificent state about fifteen miles north of the US-Mexico border. According to Google, it is 1,921.5 miles from where we currently reside in South Carolina.

That’s a long way to drive, plus or minus a half mile, so we planned only two full road trips during those two years.  It was more feasible to board a plane and fly since we visited about every three months.  

Two weeks before Christmas 2016, we didn’t hesitate booking our flight to Arizona.  This trip was exactly what the doctor ordered…literally.  My new doctor and rheumatologist mentioned how grandchildren have amazing healing qualities.  He thought it was a great idea to help take my mind off the gripping joint pain I’d experienced for so long.  Dr. G also prescribed prednisone to help me better enjoy my short trip.  He said I would feel like a million bucks, and he was telling the truth.  I felt as though conquering the world was possible, or at least the alternate universe I was growing so accustomed.  Finally pain free for the first time in six months, I was overwhelmed with sheer joy!

In June, six months prior, unrelenting pain invaded my entire body. I slowly morphed into a completely different person. My husband suggested I possibly had an adverse effect to a scorpion sting or a tarantula bite on the ten day road trip we had taken that summer. Unless that scorpion or tarantula visited me in the dark of night, I would’ve known it—trust me!  Tarantulas are so big in Arizona, you can see them crossing the road driving down a long, straight highway.  This is a small one on the glass panel next to their front door. (Eeek!)  Scorpions, on the other hand, are a little more discreet, so my husband and I checked my body thoroughly for anything that looked unusual.

In the beginning, my mysterious symptoms weren’t revealed to anyone except my husband and son.  Not knowing what was wrong, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it.  Not wanting to worry my mom and daddy, I faked the smile, talked the talk, and painfully, walked the walk.  For most people, the change in me was either unnoticed, or very subtle.  

It was those I interacted with on a daily basis that saw the change as more drastic.  Certainly, they all thought I was going off the deep end.  No one understood the metamorphosis taking place right before their eyes…including me!  We just knew something was terribly wrong.  

My sweet, bubbly personality changed overnight, but it took a couple of months to free-fall into my bizarre alternate world.  It was surreal. The mind-bending tricks the brain created in my suffocating world began feeling curiously normal.  My previous life became more detached.

Losing grip on reality, many nights were spent with my eyes wide open.  The stress and sleeplessness created a new ordeal that eventually took me to my lowest point.  This would soon be addressed in the hospital emergency room in a matter of months.  The human body can only endure so much.  This ER visit changed my life.  It was on this night, that silly battle cry, I’m good, I’m good, was hilariously proclaimed.  I can hardly wait to share that story. 

For now though, I felt incredible.  Enjoying exuberance and happiness for the first time in months felt bizarre, but God knew a short reprieve was desperately needed.  He granted an answer to my prayer via Dr. G, steroids, and grandchildren.  I thanked God for them all.

Everyone’s gifts were wrapped and shipped ahead of time.  Before steroids, the fine motor skills needed to wrap gifts would’ve made that simple task impossible.  Once we arrived in Arizona, my time would be focused on my precious family instead of shopping and wrapping presents.  We only had a few short days together.

Our Precious Avery…

Avery was three at the time.  I can see her in my mind’s eye running toward us at the airport with her little arms lifted up for us to swoop her into our arms for her famously tight hugs.  Her beautiful, wavy, blonde hair was pulled up, so it bobbed up and down as she was running toward us.  She was wearing her aqua colored, glittery, frou-frou, princess dress that is ridiculously adorable.  Once she was in our arms, she didn’t let go until it was time for Pop to place her on his shoulders to walk out of Tucson International Airport.  It is an extraordinary feeling being in her presence. There’s nothing else like it.  We love Avery dearly.

Sweet Emma…

Emma was almost ten at the time, but wasn’t with us that particular Christmas. She was living at a residential facility in another state for children dealing with issues stemming from severe abuse and neglect.  Before Tiffany and Bill attained custody of Emma, she was living in a hellish situation.  She needed extra help working through traumatic events surrounding her young body, mind, and spirit. Sending Emma away to live temporarily was the toughest decision any parent could ever make given these same circumstances, so reserve your judgement.  Tiffany and Bill made the right decision regarding her well-being.  Sometimes love just isn’t enough.  God knows she had plenty of that.  She still does, but Emma needs more than love.  I will save her story for another post.  Gerry and I love Emma dearly.

Awesome Abby…

Abby and Pop

Abby is Emma’s older sister.  She was eleven at the time of our Christmas trip. Being the oldest, Abby is the motherly type.  She always intercedes on behalf of the underdog, and often steps in to keep her sisters out of trouble.  Before being removed by child protective services, and placed in the care of Tiffany and Bill, Abby assumed the role of the adult.  She felt the intense need to care for her defenseless sister.  No child should ever carry such an enormous burden.  

When Tiffany and Bill so selflessly stepped in on their behalf, Abby wasn’t sure how to be a child.  Her seriousness, and motherly trait is endearing, but at the same time, it is also very sad.  The older Abby and Emma get, the more fierce their sibling rivalry becomes.  I’m afraid that’s just normal. Gerry and I also love Abby dearly.

Christmas Before Christmas…

What child doesn’t ask to open a gift before Christmas truly arrives?  Try opening all of your gifts. That would never happen—or would it?  I often say, “You’ll never know unless you ask.”  

Since our visit was planned a week or so before Christmas, Abby and Avery did ask to open all of their gifts shipped ahead of time, and already under their Christmas tree.  When we said, “Absolutely, open ‘em all,” they both thought we were the best GiGi and Pop ever.  I’m sure Tiffany and Bill rolled their eyes as they smiled, knowing we had valid reasoning behind it.

 

 

We definitely wanted to see Avery ride her new bicycle before departing in a couple of days.  It was already assembled and hidden in a bedroom by her daddy and Pop.  The empty box was wrapped for her to open.  We almost heard her three year old mind rationalizing that a bicycle could not possibly fit in that box.  She looked at the picture and innocently asked, “GiGi, where is it?”  We didn’t make her wait.  Her daddy rolled it out of the bedroom and her eyes lit up like the Christmas tree.  We played outside until it was nearly dark.

 

 

Although we missed Emma being home, spending a few days with everyone placed me in a wonderful state of mind.  I hadn’t experienced that degree of clarity in many months. My doctor was correct.  Grandchildren do have healing qualities.  

The following day, we enjoyed another day trip to Tombstone, Arizona for lunch at Big Nose Kate’s Saloon. Tombstone is only about twenty miles from Sierra Vista. I was able to sweet talk a couple of very serious cowboys into a photo op. Avery calls them, “Good Guys,” but she was in no mood to join me. I think she just wanted Pop to hold her.  I was okay going solo for this photo. She watched with her head laying on Pop’s shoulder as her mommy took our picture.

Our return flight came all too quickly.

When someone asks, “How was your flight,” I always like to respond, “It was uneventful,” but this particular flight, experienced some turbulence, which is nothing unusual.  Most flights do.  Unbeknownst to me, it was the ascension to higher altitudes in order to avoid a storm that placed my lurking illness into super-overdrive, if there is such a word.  Just like rheumatoid arthritis, this illness is in a class all by itself.  So now, two separate, yet equally concerning issues existed.  I didn’t experience the awful feeling it produced until we de-boarded the airplane. 

Once we safely landed in Columbia, South Carolina, a weird feeling of uneasiness consumed me.  My face was hot, my chest had a tingling sensation, and my heart was pounding in my ears. The pressure in my head and chest was intense, but it mostly subsided once I settled in at home.  I experienced this feeling a few times in the past few months, but this time, it seemed to be somewhat escalated. A few deep breaths seemed to help—a little.

Perplexed, I stupidly remained silent about the whole ordeal.  I figured my husband was getting tired of me complaining constantly.  I was beginning to wonder if he even believed me, which is an example of the mind-bending tricks my brain was playing.  We’d been married almost thirty years at that time.  He knew me well.  Of course, he believed me.

The following week, it was time to tell my mom and daddy.  Ironically, I walked in their house while he was taking mom’s blood pressure.  (He endearingly takes great care of her.)  After telling them of the unfortunate circumstances, my daddy fervently prayed for me, and sat me down to take my blood pressure.  We sat at the kitchen table where mom was already sitting.  He’s a wise man…my daddy…my hero!  

My BP was higher than normal, but not in a danger zone per se.  Thinking it was stress related and much due to lack of sleep, he still advised me to follow up with my doctor, but I was stubborn.  I’m not sure which I inherited that trait.  My reasoning was since the pain levels were improving, my blood pressure would auto correct.  Apparently, I didn’t understand the seriousness of it all.  Everything was under control…or so I thought.  This issue gradually worsened and was addressed in that emergency room visit when springtime arrived.

Because of daddy, I’m good, I’m good!  At least now, I knew what high blood pressure felt like.  It was horrible, but continued to live my life as normally as possible.  I was getting good at this thing…carrying on, and smiling along the way.  

Sleep was still an issue because now, my body did an about-face to fight a different battle.  I thought the nights were long before…

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart: and lean not unto thine own understanding.  In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.  Proverbs 3:5-6 KJV (always)