The Power of a Voice

This morning I did something I haven't done in twenty-four days:  I walked into Audrey's and Luke's rooms and loudly bellowed, "GOOOOOOOOD morning!  Time to wake up!" and then proceeded to sing them a round of "Rise and Shine and Give God the Glory, Glory."  It was serious deja vu to my time as student ministry camp chaperone.  (Why yes, in fact, the teenagers DID love me!  How did you guess?!)

When Audrey and Luke heard me they didn't even roll over and groan.  In fact, they bolted upright in bed and squealed with delight.  Now before you think my kids are just super morning freaks like their mama, let me explain.  They were ecstatic because this was the first time they'd heard my full, regular voice in over three weeks.  After the flu, I got a terrible bout of bronchitis and laryngitis and it stripped me of my voice.  I hadn't been able to speak to them in my full, regular voice for twenty-three days.  TWENTY-THREE DAYS. Let that sink in for a moment.

Parenting.  

Luke.  

With little to no voice.

For three weeks.  

They missed hearing me so badly.  I missed talking to them.  Ours is a house of words,  y'all. We may miss the mark on a lot of things, but we communicate the heck out of stuff with our kids.  We always have.  I remember the strange looks I would get when someone would pass me in the store and I would be talking to six month old Audrey like she was a forty year old friend.

So here I was, limited to nonverbal gestures and whispers for the first two weeks (which the doctor cautioned against doing because it actually strains the vocal chords more.)  I would write or type things out with David and Audrey, but obviously that didn't work with Luke. Clapping, snapping, and "psssttt" become commonplace attention grabbers the kids knew to listen for.  The last week brought about a deep, broken hoarseness that worked a lot better, but still wasn't me. What began as an annoying inconvenience turned frustrating and disheartening rather quickly.

Most days we managed.  I'd try to keep quiet and nod or signal "okay" when I could.  Other days, like the one when I lost sight of Luke in a store and started calling him as loud as I could with no sound coming out, were terrifying.  I found him about 60 seconds later, looking down and playing "don't step on the crack," blissfully unaware that he'd even wandered away.  He got a huge hug and the whisper-lecture of his life.  

When you're as quiet as I've had to be, you have an awful lot of time to think.  God has definitely taught me some lessons about my words and the importance of them these last few weeks.  I spent time reading scripture about the tongue and how hard it is to tame.  That very same day I also used what little voice energy I had to pass on a not-very-flattering comment about someone when I was chatting with a friend.  The moment I whispered it to her I thought "SERIOUSLY, Heather?  You have such limited vocal strength and you choose to spend it on that?!"  Mercy.  I certainly can't claim that the lessons God was teaching me always sank in right away.  

But over time, I DID actually absorb some things. Wonder of wonders.  I noticed that I nagged a lot less because I didn't want to waste my breath.  I didn't tell Luke to hurry as often as I usually do.  I would tell the kids to do something once and then actually give them a chance to comply without repeating myself. (Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.)  I tried to think about my answers to their questions carefully so I could give them concise, easy-to-understand responses.  I had them take turns praying on the way to school instead of me always doing it and asked Audrey to read the Bible stories at night when David was out of town, which was good for them.  I tried to be thoughtful and intentional in my questions about their days at school.  When I forced a whisper, I tried to use words of encouragement instead of criticism.  I always made strength to eek out "I love you", but found that "clean up your mess" sometimes wasn't worth it.  (Although I could usually manage to clap and point for that one.)

These last few weeks haven't been easy, but they've taught me a great deal.  I need to make my words count.  I need to listen more.  It took me losing my voice to understand the power it holds.  And as a parent it holds a tremendous amount.  I hope that lesson, along with my voice, sticks around for awhile.  

Valentine's Day 2017

I'm still here.  I still have no voice.  But I'm still here!  

On Monday I had Luke's preschool class party.  It was a pretty laid back and not at all fancy, but the kids enjoyed it.  We did three crafts and two games: a love bug bookmark, a tissue paper heart wreath, a birdseed heart, conversation hearts matching game, and heart hopscotch.  The kids were so sweet as they listened intently to my whispers and would often whisper back.  It reminded me of the early days of my laryngitis when Luke and Audrey would do the same. (As opposed to now when they really are so over it that they have taken to pretty much ignoring me completely.)  Another mom brought in cupcakes since it was her daughter's birthday and the class was sufficiently sugared up by carpool.  

Valentine's Day dawned Tuesday morning and I made heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast. I took some pictures of the kids in their Valentine's Day raglan shirts I'd made with my Cricut and then we drove AJ to school loaded down with her cards and her box.  Luke and I spent the morning running errands, which wasn't too exciting for him, but I tried to make the most of it with books and snacks.  When Audrey got home I let them dump out all of their cards and go through their goodies to pick a treat.  (Gone are the days of only cards, ya know.)  The weather was so nice that we went outside to play until it was time for dinner.  

David got home and we ate heart-shaped quesadillas with rice.  (Oh, if only every holiday was as easy as spending two seconds with a pizza or cookie cutter.)  We let the kids open little gifts from us afterward.  They each got some books and Hershey Kisses and Luke got a mini Lego set and Audrey got a "Charm U" starter bracelet pack.  They were ecstatic. Quite possibly more so than over their Christmas gifts.  Okay, maybe not, but they were really pumped.  Let that be a lesson to all of us:  keeping low to zero expectations = a lot of room to have them met!

So that was our day.  Nothing special, but I'm so thankful I got to spend it with my favorite valentines.  David and I are going out on a date this weekend, so I guess we'll count that as our celebration.  He's still afraid to kiss me right now and I can't say I blame him.  Hope you enjoyed your day with your loves!

Luke making a "Love Bug Bookmark" at his class party

Heart-shaped pancakes on Valentine's Day

Dressed up for the occasion

Audrey with her Valentine box

Luke hanging his heart bird feeder

Opening their little gifts from us

So excited to get a "Charm U" bracelet!

Flu Follow-Up

Well folks, we're wrapping up the second full week of illness in the Sinyard household.  And I hate to be Debbie Downer over here, but we are STILL not well yet.  I ended up going to the doctor last Wednesday and getting a higher dose of steroids for my bronchitis and laryngitis. He also put me on three days of antibiotics for what he believes is an upper respiratory infection.  

Because I just loooooved the office visit so much, I took Luke back with me that evening after David got home from work.  He'd been complaining of ear pain for a couple of days and I was worried it was infected.  Sure enough it was and we headed back to the pharmacy for yet another prescription.  I am very, very thankful for good insurance because these office visits and copays would be killing us otherwise.  I do think the pharmacist is starting to suspect something though.  Listen, Linda, I'm not selling this codeine cough syrup on the street. Unless of course you think I could trade it for something more powerful and effective. In which case, let me get some business cards printed up.  

Sigh.  I hate this.  I am so over it.  I haven't had more than five consecutive hours of sleep in two weeks.  I haven't been able to do more than whisper in a week.  And do you have any idea how hard it is not to talk when you're a mom?!  Sure I feel like I only say ten things over and over and over again, but that's still a lot of talking.  The kids keep telling me they miss my voice.  :(

Okay.  Gripe fest over.  Just PLEASE keep praying.  We desperately need healing!  (And when we finally do get back to 100%, if you come at me coughing and sneezing, I will cut you.)

The Great Flu of 2017

Oh my stars.  What a week.  It all began when Luke woke up flushed with fever last Sunday morning. We kept him hydrated and dosed with ibuprofen/acetaminophen, hoping for the best.  David was leaving for town the next day and I really didn't want a sick kiddo on my solo parenting hands all week.  

OH if only I'd known then just how ugly things would get.  It's probably a good thing I didn't or I might have stowed away in David's suitcase. 

That night, I woke up with fever, chills, and aches something fierce.  I moved to the couch downstairs and when David kissed me goodbye, I didn't even get up to walk him out, which I always make a point to do when he travels.  I managed to get the kids ready and got Audrey off to school then Luke and I came back home and settled in for a day of chilling.  Around midday, my fever was gone and I decided to make a doctor's appointment for Luke.  Since Audrey had just gotten over pneumonia about a week earlier I wanted to be sure he hadn't contracted it too (most cases aren't contagious, but some are and of course the virus that causes them can be.)

As soon as Audrey got off the bus we loaded up and headed over.  The doctor listened to Luke's lungs and checked his ears and throat.  He said everything was clear and it was probably just a virus.  (I told him I'd had a fever overnight, but that it was gone and I was feeling pretty okay at the moment.)  We left, stopped by Target to get a new thermometer, and went home for dinner.  Some time between pulling out of the Target parking lot and pulling into our driveway, my fever returned with a vengeance.  After I got the kids bathed and fed, I stuck them in front of the television, made them promise not to go anywhere near the front door if the doorbell rang, and got in the bath.  My joints ached so bad and I was shivering from chills.  David called to talk to the kids before they went to bed and when I shooed them down the hall to brush their own teeth, I started crying to him on the phone.  With a 103.7 temperature, I'd now caught a glimpse of what the week ahead was going to look like and it made me really sad.  

I spent a restless night tossing, turning, sweating, and shivering before giving up and getting in the shower.  I somehow managed to get the kids out of bed and fed them breakfast.  I let Luke stay in his pajamas while we drove Audrey to school.  I point that out because that has not happened once since she started elementary school.  We got home and I put my pajamas back on.  Luke was doing better, which I took as a good sign.  I laid on the couch and watched him play cars and legos.  

At some point I unintentionally fell asleep and woke up panicked.  It wasn't that I was concerned about Luke getting into something he shouldn't...he was old enough that I didn't need to worry about that.  What really upset me was that I had no idea when the last time I'd taken his temperature was, when I'd last given him medicine, how much he'd had to drink so far that day, etc.  He wasn't fully recovered and I couldn't guarantee that I could do everything to get him there in my current state.  I fed him lunch, put him down for a rest in his room, and immediately called my mother-in-law.  As soon as she answered, I burst into tears and asked her if she could please come over.  She was at my house with groceries 90 minutes later.  A godsend indeed. 

I got Luke up from his rest and waited for Audrey and Pam to come in from the bus stop. When they did, Audrey felt warm and told me her head hurt.  I'd been sitting with the idea that this just might be the flu for a couple of hours and already been texting about it with Kara's sister, who is a physician's assistant.  Now that it had claimed its third victim, I was almost certain.  Why in the world had this not crossed my mind earlier?!  Everyone says you can tell the difference from a cold because it comes on so suddenly and hits you like a freight train.  Uh, yeah.  I felt quite run over.

Kara's sister phoned me in some Tamiflu like the saint she is.  (It's not advisable for kids to have it because it causes night terrors and serious nausea in them which can lead to further dehydration.)  I left the kids with Pam and drove up to the store, hoping I didn't run into anyone in my clammy, sweaty state.  I'd been warned that it could cost a pretty penny and really only worked to shorten the illness by a day or two.  Let me tell y'all something:  I would've paid $100 if it meant shaving 10 minutes off of what I'd been enduring.  Thankfully I didn't have to do that, as a generic version was available.  I came home and got back in bed. I stayed there until Pam left and then I gave orders while the kids basically put themselves to bed.  I didn't sleep much or well that night and somewhere around 1:30am, I got sick to my stomach.  The hits just kept on coming.  

The next day Pam came over and I barely saw her and the kids.  They were doing much better thank the Lord. (Audrey's case was so mild that she only ran about a 100 degree fever and had a headache.)  We ate dinner together (dinner being a scrambled egg for me) and then introduced Pam to her first episode of Fixer Upper.  She left and I tried to get the kids ready for bed while I battled severe nausea that brought back horrible memories of my first trimesters of pregnancies.  That is the major side effect of Tamiflu and likely the cause of the previous night's episode, but I wasn't ready to give up on it yet.  I curled up under the covers shivering while the kids talked to David on the phone before bed.  All of a sudden I sat up and barked at them to leave the room as I reached for the trash can by my bedside.  I felt terrible scaring them, but I knew it would be worse to watch mama hurl up her scrambled egg. 

I cleaned up and doled out their medicine before texting David something along the lines of "Going to bed.  Pray.  LU."  Lawdy I was so ready for relief.  

The next day (Thursday? June?!  Who knows...) I decided to stop the Tamiflu.  I couldn't handle vomiting in addition to the horrific fevers.  I worked on trying to rest and stay hydrated.  I think I finally went downstairs around mid-afternoon and we sat in the sunroom and then on the deck, trying to soak up a bit of the sunshine and warm temperatures.  I'd been attempting a load of laundry and dishes every day just to try and stay on top of it, but the rest of the house was bearing the brunt.  I actually took it as a good sign that I was noticing and caring.  Could the worst be over?!

That evening, I felt good enough to fix the kids grilled cheese sandwiches and get Pam on the road earlier than the past two days.  The kids still had to handle most of their own bedtime routine but we managed (oh my good gravy did their oral hygiene suffer this week but PRIORITIES, MAN).  Thankfully I didn't have any nausea that night, but I did succumb to my usual post-illness bronchitis.  It's something I have gotten every 18-24 months since college and I know it well.  

But no matter over some silly ol' bronchitis.  The next day was FRIDAY.  AKA Daddy's-Coming-Home-Day!  We'd nearly made it!  There was much rejoicing in the land!  

I'd toyed with the idea of sending them to school until I realized that would mean getting everyone up, ready, and out the door by 7:30 when we hadn't even been waking up before 8am all week (another thing that never happens in this house.)  I knew it would be better for their immune systems and everyone else's to play it safe for one more day.  

I called my general physician to ask him to phone me in an inhaler to help with my bronchitis.  It was something he'd prescribed before that provided a bit of relief.  After ten years as his patient, he turned me down and told me I'd need to drive the 40 minutes each way on a Friday afternoon with sick kids to come in for an office visit.  You might call this incident the straw that broke the camel's back.  I'd been making the inconvenient post-move trek over to him for years because I liked the guy, but no more.  I was polite, but I was very disappointed and I told him so.  In related news, if any of you locals have a GP you love, let me know.  In the meantime, I finally bit the bullet and signed up for David's company's health care plan online doctor service.  I video-chatted with a very nice doctor and told him my symptoms and what I knew I needed.  Ten minutes and $10 later, two prescriptions were waiting for me at the pharmacy.  Swoon.

So, back to glorious Friday:  no school.  Again.  I did decide, however, to break out and drive through Chick-fil-A for lunch.  Luke hadn't been out since his Monday afternoon's doctor appointment and I hadn't since my quick trip to the pharmacy on Tuesday.  I like my at-home time, but days upon days is too much even for me. I ordered lunch and ice cream for all and we went home and ate it outside on the deck.  It felt so good! So freeing and hopeful! We just might make it yet!  

David got home right after the kids' rest time and I teared up as I hugged him.  I half jokingly told him I wasn't sure we were ever going to make it to that moment.  The kids were ecstatic to see him and we spent the afternoon catching up and taking it easy.  We cooked frozen pizza and watched Fixer Upper like we were our ol' regular Friday night selves.  

And then...

David started running a fever.  And the rejoicing in the land quickly turned to weeping and gnashing of teeth.  

We went to bed completely deflated.  At some point I got up and went down to the basement guest room because my coughing was so bad it was keeping David awake...and that's saying something.  I tried cozying up and watching some television, dozing in and out of coughing fits and 30 Rock episodes.

I woke up with a fever the next morning, making day number seven for me.  I also had no voice left thanks to the toll the coughing had taken on my throat.  Thankfully, however, David was fever-free.  He still felt bad, but together we were able to tackle parenting the cabin-fevered children.  Cabin-fevered children are physically healthier but way more annoying than flu-fevered children.  Boy, they were seriously tired of the house and each other. 

At one point they were fighting and before I whispered a word, I stepped back and looked at our situation.  We were all a complete mess.  An exhausted, frustrated, sick, frazzled mess.  I couldn't help it - I started laughing hysterically.  David instinctively knew what was going through my head and joined in.  Soon I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face.  The kids didn't know what on earth to think of the situation.  Mommy and Daddy had completely lost it.  We finally caught our breath and explained that sometimes you just have to laugh to avoid crying...or cry through your laughter.  We sat down for lunch feeling much better after that release.  

David maintained his fever-free state and held steady the rest of the afternoon.  He had started my remaining Tamiflu the night before, so I don't know if that was it or if God just decided to have mercy on us.  I do know we had a lot of people praying for us, that's for sure.

That evening I was craving a scenery change and some Cracker Barrel comfort food, so we called in an order and all drove over to pick it up.  The kids were giddy as we took in the world around us.  Trees!  Cars!  The sky!  Gas stations!  Traffic lights!  It was so wonderful to be out of the house. We picked up our food and drove home blaring some music.  Not only was the trip out and the food just what the doctor ordered, but I'd also been fever-free since that morning.  I was starting to think I just might make it.   

It was another sleepless, cough-riddle night for me, but I woke up fever-free and that made all the difference.  And I do mean ALL the difference.  It is amazing what you can do when your body temperature is normal!  By 10am I had gone to the grocery store, paid bills, washed sheets, and picked up the house.  Look out - mama is back!

Fast forward to today.  I am better, but still not getting much sleep.  Between the coughing fits and the steroids the doctor put me on for bronchitis, nights are very rough.  BUT, I am definitely a thousand miles from where I was at this point last week!  The kids went back to school yesterday and, though tired, seem to be doing okay.  David went back to work yesterday, but came home early because he was so worn out.  I imagine it's going to take he and I at least another week to get back to 100%.  This means no exercising for me, which is frustrating and discouraging.  I have worked so hard to build up good habits (and muscle!) and had no desire to take two weeks off, but I realize that a wise woman knows when her body needs the rest.  Hopefully I'll be back to begrudgingly hitting the gym in no time.  

So that was The Great Flu of 2017.  Wow, what a week.  I have never been that sick for that many consecutive days in my life.  I'm so thankful for my mother-in-law's help and everyone's prayers for us.  I know we couldn't have made it without either.  

To close, I want to offer this little piece of advice:  Get a flu shot.  

Now I confess that I have always been the one to say "the immunization is never for the same strand that comes around anyway" or "but what if it makes me sick now?"  NEVER EVER EVER AGAIN.  As Kara's sister told me "The flu is always no big deal to people who have never had it."   I know it's not a guarantee, but it's something.  Even if it doesn't fully protect me, if there is a .01% chance that it will lessen the blow of the full virus, I'm getting one. 

I ask that you please keep praying for us, especially for sleep!  And here's hoping that the rest of this winter is much, much kinder to our immune systems.