Lost and Found

I am sitting in a new room on 3W - the bone marrow unit at dad's hospital. We had had an emotional few days. Yesterday, Dad's numbers soared high enough for him to be released from the hospital. Today, after a fainting spell, he was readmitted to the hospital for an indefinite amount of time. We are all pretty exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions cancer carries.

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This morning, I woke Austin up early to get ready for school.

"Mom, I am so tired. Let's just sleep." He said without even opening his eyes.

I am used to Austin's morning drama, as he already acts like a teenager in the mornings - pulling his covers over his head and begging for more sleep.

"Austin, today is St. Patrick's Day." I replied. "Maybe you will have a special treat at school." I hoped that my term "special treat" would somehow lure the little one into the light of day.

He paused for a second. "Mom," he replied. "There is no St. Patrick in my class... and even if he did come today... and even if he did bring cupcakes for his birthday, I would rather just stay home with you."

"Well, okay!" I said, as we both rolled back over and went back to sleep.

Two hours later (!!!), Austin woke up and was ready for his history lesson.

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I didn't mind sleeping in this morning myself as we both had a late night getting dad situated into his "transitional apartment." As I type this now, Mom is back at the apartment packing up her belongings once again for hospital life. Dad has been pushed away to the ends of the hospital for CT scans and x-rays. Please keep praying.

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This past weekend, we were able to spend some time in G'ville visiting James. We had a wonderful weekend and I wanted to share some pictures of life before the craziness this week.







As I put Austin to bed the last night in G'ville, he begged me to lay down and sing to him. I sang a few standard bedtime songs and got ready to leave.

"Momma," Austin pleaded. "You haven't sung the lost and found song yet."

"Lost and found song???" I replied. "Austin, I have no idea what in the world you are talking about."

"Mom, you know. The lost and found song. It is one of your favorites."

I thought hard and sudden realization came to me.

"Oh, of course, buddy. You are right. I haven't sung the lost and found song yet."

Amazing Grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
but now am found
was blind but now I see...

Someday soon, I pray that we will all see clearly through the midst of today's trials. Right now we only see dimly... someday we shall see face to face!

Happy Birthday, Uncle Adam!

A few days ago, the "Bugg" children and grandchildren gathered to celebrate my brother, Adam's, 29th birthday!





Adam,

I am honored to be your "big" sister. I love spending time with you, Sharon, and Avery. I am so glad to be back in Florida. You remind me so much of Dad through your humor and decision making. You always seem to be able to look at a situation with wisdom rather than emotion - bringing a sense of reality to the world's drama. You handle yourself with dignity even in the midst of difficult situations. Thank you for being so loyal as a son to mom and dad during these days of dad's hospitalization. As their only son, I know that they are looking to you in new ways to help care for dad that are difficult. You have risen to the challenge and you have wisdom beyond your 29 years.

I know that it was not always (if ever) easy to have two older sisters. Jenny and I were occasionally mean (i.e. giving you the number for the weather station rather than for mom and dad while we were babysitting you). However, I think that you repaid me well the time you lit fireworks in the bathroom while I was babysitting! In the midst of being dressed up in our play clothes and forced to act in our childhood plays, you grew up to be a man, and you stand with strength in the midst of great trial.

Even as a young boy, you were able to connect with other children in a rare and special way. We always wanted you to help when we had nursery duty at church. Younger children loved your playfulness and laugh. Your nephews are testimony to your unique ability to still connect with children. Austin and Andrew both love you (and your Wii). You are an amazing father, and I am so excited to watch as Avery grows into a young woman.

I love having a brother who understands my random quotes from "Friends" and shares so many mutual memories. I will never forget holding fireplace pokers in our laps in Colorado in case we were burglarized... or the time you sat on the floor of the car during a long drive (I am so sorry about that)!!!

I once wrote a nice blog post about our sister, Jenny. You called her to ask her if "she was dying" - due to the tribute I posted. I just think that occasionally it is nice to write down the things that we are never quite able to put into words. And I am honored to be your "big" sister. I love you. Happy Birthday!


Megan is ready to start eating food! In this photo, she is staring down Austin's chocolate cupcake!

Painting with Messy Hair

We have spent our "sick days" walking around in pajamas.

Painting pictures for Grandpa's hospital room



And not worrying one bit about things like combing our hair!



We hope that you are having a wonderful weekend as well:)



*** Austin's "work room" in these pictures is my mom's laundry room. Yes, she painted the walls! It is inspiring and beautiful. I am hoping that it will encourage Austin to keep painting!

And the stack of books in the background is my mess! Books that have yet to find a new home after our Texas move!

Not Forever!

It was a typical morning in the third grade. I was busy planning my Friday Show and Tell and learning my multiplication tables. I sat next to a friend named Angela, and on this particular third grade morning, I noticed that Angela kept looking at her arms.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I leaned across the row to her desk.

“I am making sure that I don’t have Fifth Disease.” She responded very seriously.

“Fifth Disease??? What is fifth disease?” I whispered while our teacher continued the fours tables.

“It is a very serious disease. You get a rash all over your arms and they will kick you out of school… forever.” Angela dramatically replied.

I remember this day in third grade so vividly because all of my friends and I spent our entire outside playground time studying ever single red bump on our arms. Could we have fifth disease – the dreaded disease that would cause us to get kicked out of school… forever?

I am pleased to report that none of us were diagnosed that day and life in third grade continued as normal.

Fast forward approximately 25 years.

Two days ago I noticed that Austin’s cheeks were a little flushed. By last night, his face looked inflamed and a bright red rash was starting to spread down his arms. I immediately began “googling” the words “rash on toddlers cheeks.”



The first words on the screen took my breath away. “Fifth Disease!”

I immediately became an insecure eight-year-old once again. “Oh no! He is going to be very sick and kicked out of school… forever!”

After a trip to our pediatrician this morning, I am sad to report that Austin does indeed have Fifth disease, but am happy to report that he is completely fine.



In a few days (possibly weeks) the rash should completely disappear, Austin has no other symptoms and isn’t even itchy. And in my humble opinion, he is rather enjoying the extra attention and popsicles mommy is allowing.



We still might be a little contagious, so we will stay around the house for now… but I promise… not forever!

Team USA

Several days ago, Austin woke up and said,

"Mom, you know how my cousin is going to be a professional t-ball player when he grows up?"

"Yes, sweetheart." I replied with a big grin.

"Well, I have decided that when I grow up, I want to be a professional hockey player... for Team USA!"

So, a few days ago, we met several friends at the ice-skating rink for some practice.


Austin, Averi, and Andrew


Aunt Sharon completing a spin


Sweet Averi enjoying the ice


Go, Andrew, Go!


Watch out, Canada, Austin is coming... (and hopefully he won't be holding his mommy's hand when you meet!)


Austin and Mommy


BTW: Thanks to Aunt Jenny - who had her hands fulls while we all skated!

Grandpa's Five Star Hotel

I just posted an update on my dad's blog and wanted to go ahead and include it here as well.

I was able to visit Dad last night for a few minutes after his bone marrow transplant. He was doing very well (considering all that his body had been through that day)! I took my three-year-old son, Austin, to the hospital for the first time tonight. Since children are not allowed near Dad's room, Austin stayed in the family lounge with Grandma while I visited Grandpa.

As we walked into the family lounge, Austin immediately noticed a game of checkers on the table and a huge t.v. on the wall. Can we watch t.v.? Austin asked Grandma as soon as she walked in the room. "Of course," Grandma said. After my short visit with my Dad, I went to pick up Austin in the family lounge and noticed his tongue was a surprising shade of green.

"Grandma and I found a green ice pop in the freezer!" Austin told me elated.

On the way down to the main lobby, I allowed Austin to push all of the elevator buttons. As we walked out into the parking garage, Austin looked up at me, "Mom, this is an awesome hotel that Grandpa is staying in!"

So, dad, although you might not think so at times, the combination of checkers, t.v., green ice pops and elevator buttons has Austin rating your "hotel" with five stars!

We love you!

Here are some pictures of Dad in his five star hotel.


Adam, Dad, and Emily on Dad's "rest day"


Mom's "suite" for the next three weeks


Dad holding his special gift from Sharon (Adam's wife)

Speed Boats - Part 2

Continued...

As we looked at the speed boats from afar, Austin had trouble containing his excitement. "Look at those boats, dad!" He exclaimed with pure joy. As James filled out the paperwork, Austin ran over to the life vests. "Mom, hurry, I need a life jacket!" He yelled.



With life vests safely buckled, Austin walked up to the speed boat instructor. "Do these boats go fast or slow?" He asked with all seriousness. "Um..." I could tell that the instructor was hesitating. "Both." (Safe answer, instructor man. Safe answer.)



Austin, however, was not done with his questioning. "Are these boats loud or soft?" And before the instructor man could give another safe answer to my son, "Mr. Start the engines of the speed boats" decided to show off a little and rev the engines for the small speed boat my son would be riding.

(Not a good response, "Mr. Start the engines of the speed boat man." Not a good response at all.)

After hearing the roar of the engine, Austin decided that speed boat riding was no longer for him. He burst into tears and ran up the boat ramp back towards my arms. "I Don't Want To Ride Those Boats Anymore!" He stated firmly. "I don't want to ride!"

"It's okay, Austin." James and I both tried to explain. "You don't have to go fast. Daddy is a safe driver. If you don't like it you can come right back."

Austin just stood there crying. "I don't want to go!"

I looked at James. "I know that he is going to love it if he will just go." I sadly replied. "He is going to have so much fun. How do we convince him that it's okay?"

We finally convinced Austin to just sit in the boat - then, just take a picture in the boat, then, just feel what it is like to go slow in the boat.



Before he knew it, James floated away from the boat dock and out into the lake. Austin looked up with huge tear filled eyes. "Daddy, this isn't bad at all!" He exclaimed.

As they finished their tour of the lake and came back to the dock, I saw Austin grinning from ear to ear. "Mom, I saw the D*sney Castle, and we went by a hotel, and we went out and saw other boats, and we went over a wake, and we went bump, bump, bump, and it was so much fun."



As we took off our life vests, Austin looked at me, "Mom, can we do that again sometime?"

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I feel like I have been introduced to the speed boats this year. I have been presented with some life issues and my first response is to ask God. "Okay, Lord, is this ride going to be fast (scary) or slow and calm?"

And I know his response. "Both."

I find out news and I want to know all the answers. I want to be assured of my safety before making any decisions about joining in on this ride. Suddenly in the background, I hear the roar of the engine, and I suddenly realize that the ride is going to be loud. Scary at times. Wild. Not even necessarily safe.

"I don't want to ride anymore!" I cry - and I try to run back to the safety of what life used to look like.

And I know his response. "You are going to understand after you finish the ride. You are going to see beautiful sights, but you have to step on in order to ride. You have to trust me. I know what is best for you. I want you to enjoy this journey of life - I want you to live life to the full. At times it will be rough and at other times smooth. But you will come back to the dock - someday - with understanding.

At this moment, right now, I am just stepping into the boat. Trusting the driver.