I have been in the ED for 3 weeks now and I have got to sew a fair share of lacerations...not even close to as many as I would like but I think it would be against policy to go around cutting people just so I could sew them back up. I also get to do what they call an Incision and Drainage which is pretty much a huge zit or an infection under the skin that cause an abscess...you might have seen the youtube videos going around labeled "Huge cyst extraction" or...well you could pretty much watch every video made of abscess' being excised after you search for that one (warning: if you have a weak stomach or do not like cool repulsive things...do not watch). I love the days when I get to do stuff like that. The best part is, though...that they always feel better after the cut is sewed, or the abscess has been drained. Sometimes their cut may look like their finger is going to fall off and two or three stitches later...it looks like a finger again. Sometimes theses people will get antibiotics so prevent a further infection and they are sent on their way. They will have a small scar to remember their day in the ER...but their lives will go on as if nothing ever happened.

It's been 11 months now. 11 months!! I can't help but to think about how the death of Kevin has left such an incredible wound that I wonder if it will ever be able to fully be repaired. My heart was shattered into a million pieces.  There has been days that I felt like it was being slowing put back together...piece by piece. And then there are the days when it all falls apart again. I can't predict when these days will come. Trust me...I've tried. Sometimes there are days that I have to brace myself for...only to feel nothing. And then...wham...like a nor'easter I am shoved to the ground in a white out of tears and anguish.

I wish it were as easy as a stitch and an antibiotic. My heart would be fixed and assured that it would stay that way.

But then again...the cuts on my heart are ones that I have earned. Everyday I am rebuilding and transforming into the new me. Everyday I am learning, growing, and becoming a person that I know Kevin would be so proud of. A quick fix would deny me of the very person that I am still becoming. It would deny me of a higher love that I know I am capable of giving.

Though it is hard to see through the fog now...I know one day...in the far future...that my cuts will only be scars. Those scars will carry the story of who I once was and the journey it took to be the person I am still becoming.

I decided it was time for a change. The old blog template was what I created a month after Kevin died because I didn't know what else to do. I had no motivation, creativity, or will to live. I started this blog for the sole purpose of informing my friends and family on the West that I was "ok" and still here. At times I refused to answer calls...and even when I did, I was either crying or severely depressed. The blog...for me...became much more than that. It was an outlet for my grief and a way to write down that yes...I sometimes I did have a good day and it was okay to tell the world that even in the depths of complete darkness...sometimes a flicker of light is all that is needed to restore hope of more good days to come.

Very early on (within days) I began researching the widowed community and found that unfortunately there is a large group of us who did not choose the life we now live...it was chosen for us. However, through the pain, suffering, and complete heartache...we have found a way through it all. We are all in this together, we are all here for each other no matter what.

A widow/widower is not just someone who is legally married to someone of the opposite sex. They are someone who suffers a profound loss of a person they loved unconditionally and vowed to spend the rest of their lives with. The people who carry the badge of widow/widower are not always married, they may not even had the opportunity to be engaged yet. They may be gay, strait, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, etc, etc, etc.  No matter what the circumstance, the outcome is still the same. We lost the love of our life.

Though I am a member of the widowed club...I am also a member of a group that has many, many more members. The group that has experienced a loss so great, their entire foundation of being was shaken to the core.  We are all around. We are the wife/husband staring into space at the stop light because the divorce papers were final today. We are the father of 6 who is weeping in Wal Mart because he just lost his job and does not know how he will provide for his family. We are the new mother of a beautiful baby that was just told she has stage IV breast cancer. We are the crabby old man in the grocery store that just lost his wife of 60 years. We are the rebellious 10 year old that lost her dad a year ago when he was serving in Iraq. We are the teenager who hides behind tattoos and earrings because his best friend died in a car accident and he cannot yet deal with his pain. We are the mother who refuses to hold your baby because she just buried hers.

More than anything I have realized that there are people all around who understand how painful it is for me to see a newlywed couple, a glowing pregnant mother, or a even flowers sent to someone by their adoring husband.  My eyes have been opened in a way that I wish had never happened, but always wished had been. I am so blessed to have the people in my life and the opportunity to experience each and every day...the good ones, and the bad ones...because not everyone gets that opportunity.

First...If you haven't read anything about my dragonfly's before you should read Aug. 23rd, Nov. 6th, Dec. 7th, and Feb 29th. 

Today....was a good day!! I have definitely been in need of one the last couple weeks, especially last week. I was beginning to wonder what a good day felt like and finally....it feels like this.

It all started with the first patient I got to see. It was a hand laceration, simple, no crazy curvy lines or bones sticking out. And I got to suture it!! No big deal for people who have been doing this forever, but a very big deal for me...because it was my first time. My 3rd day on emergency medicine and I absolutely love it. I may not love it by the end of 5 weeks...but for now I love it. It is fast paced, it is ALL interesting to me...and my preceptors are all very awesome to work with.

Now back to the day.  So I was on a post-suture high with a goofy perma smile and I just wanted another laceration to come through the door so I could say "Oh don't worry doc, I got this." After my high wore off a little I got a sharp pain of sadness that hit me out of nowhere. The reason? I can't tell Kevin. I couldn't send him a quick text and tell him how incredible it was.

And then I saw it...my first dragonfly of the day. It was on a nurses scrubs just staring strait at me as tears were welling up and almost ready to fall. The smile came back. The high was back. I knew he was there, I knew he saw, and I knew he was telling me how proud of me he was.

So the day went on, I had a few other interesting patients, but no more lacerations. As I was sitting in the charting room talking with my preceptor a nurse walked in and had a dragonfly necklace on...I just stared and finally I said..."I really like your dragonfly necklace," and showed her the one I was wearing (see post from Dec. 7th). She then showed me the dragonfly tattoo on her side. My preceptor looked a little funny and told me how she loved dragonfly's and proceeded to show me her dragonfly tattoo on her shoulder...I'm really not joking. The tattoo also said:

"Je vois que vous, et votre belle âme" which is French for  "I see you, and your beautiful soul."

I almost lost it, it literally took every ounce of strength to hold my tears in. If I hadn't been in the middle of the emergency department with doctors, nurses, and patients surrounding us...it would have been like the middle of one of the Oprah episodes when she just tells some homeless person that she's going to give them a million dollars. But I kept it in. The preceptor could tell something was up so I told her that dragonfly's have a very special meaning to me and I would have to tell her at a different time so I didn't flood the room out with my tears at that point.

As the day went on one of my patients had an orthopedic issue that was going to need physical therapy. The physical therapist had evaluated the patient and suggested...Dragonfly Therapy. No, again, I'm not kidding. Dragonfly therapy is a physical therapy facility in Bangor, ME. My preceptor was in the room when this happened and she also commented on how bizarre it was that all these dragonfly's just suddenly popped up today.

The rest of the day was great. I had this feeling of peace that I knew he was there...just like he has been the whole time. After I left I went to the grocery store to pick some stuff up for dinner and I had another dragonfly encounter.  My out of date GPS had taken me to 3 grocery stores that were no longer grocery stores and finally I looked on my iPhone. It took me to the only grocery store that I didn't want to go to (due to bad produce and sketchy meats) and since it had been a long day and I was hungry I went in anyway.  As I passed the bakery I just happened to look down at the cakes. And what did I see? Yup, a picture of a dragonfly on a cake.

I know to some who don't believe in signs...especially from the dead...you could chalk all these up to coincidence....but my dragonfly's do not come everyday...they come on very bad days, very good days, and very important days. This was a very good, and important day for me and he knew he had to shower me with gifts somehow. I do have a couple pictures but due to my vagabond, living partially out of my car situation...my iPhone adapter is currently misplaced. Once I locate it, I will post a few pictures.

I miss you and love you more everyday babe.

"When you're going through hell, keep going" - Winston Churchill.

Words that I constantly have to remind myself of.  I know this won't last forever, I know that time is what it takes. Time has definitely helped the last 10 months, but just because there has been more "time" does not mean there is less pain.  The pain is less intense than it was 10 months ago...but there are still times when the wave of grief crashes over my body and washes me away again. Those are the times when the pain is still as intense as it was 10 months ago. The  more time that goes on the less time the waves last...but they still come...and there is no way to escape...just to keep going.

I went on an incredible hike in Acadia National Park yesterday and I am definitely feeling it on my out of conditioned body today.  About half way through I came to an intersection where I could keep going on the the strenuous rocky/steep path or I could take the easy carriage road that would cut the rest of my hike by 3 miles and be an easy walk back to the car.  I thought it was a great stopping point for lunch so I sat and pondered and pretty much had my mind made up. I was tired, my legs were sore and I let myself tell myself that I was too out of shape for the rest of this hike and I already saw some pretty beautiful sites so I was letting myself quit and take the easy way back.

Just as I was packing up my lunch I saw a couple pushing a baby stroller on the path I was about to take back and that prompted my old athlete self to kick my new out of shape self in the ass. There was no way I was going to take the "baby stroller" way out.

So I got up and continued on the trail that led to this:

And This:

And This:

Even though for most of the way I had to maneuver and climb my way through this:

But I made it.

I kept going.

Just like I always will...no matter what hell brings my way.