Bounced checks and packed suitcases

              After several months of sitting on the floor and “enjoying the open space” in our livingroom, a couple from the church felt sorry for us and gave us two couches from their garage.  Let it go on record right now that they were two of the most comfortable couches we have had in the history of our life together.  Unfortunately, they didn’t match each other or anything else, but I loved them because they were comfortable.

                I spent that summer playing with the kids, trying to keep up with housework, and fighting with Michael.   I was still so very frustrated by my limitations and I took a lot of my frustration out on Michael.  Somehow I had missed out on the picture perfect family where I could assume the June Cleaver role.  I loved being in school but I missed teaching.  I was anxious for school to start again so I could go back to challenging myself mentally.  It had been almost 2 years since my stroke and I still felt inadequate in so many areas of my life.  When I bounced a check to the IRS, Michael took the checkbook away from me which broke my heart.  I was progressing in the area of reading, but simple computations continued to be a problem.  Thinking that I had Multiple Sclerosis added an additional helpless factor as I felt I would only continue to decline.

                My frustrations led to continuous conflicts with Michael.  I would fly off at the handle for the smallest reasons—usually because I was excessively tired and unable to process the fact that some rest would do wonders at restoring my spirit.  Instead, I insisted on persisting when I could hardly hold my head up.  As this became my habit, my perspective on life became more stubbornly negative.  Michael would come home after a day of work and I would argue with him constantly.  Several times a month, I would get so upset that I would actually pack a suitcase and leave, going to a local motel a couple times or just driving around until I had the sense to go home. 

                One time, Michael and I were in the midst of a huge blowout during which I walked out and sat on the front porch.  I waited for him to come out and beg me to come to bed.  After sitting on the porch for over an hour, I finally went into our bedroom, only to find him sleeping peacefully in bed.  I don’t think he even knew I had pushed him off the bed until his head hit the floor. 

                When I think of this time in my life, I am so thankful for a husband that loved me so much that he would not give up on me.   I know I was not easy to live with.  A friend’s husband defended me by saying, “Lori is just playing with the crappy hand she has been dealt.”

                By the middle of the summer, I had made my exits more efficient by just always keeping a packed suitcase available in the closet.  When August rolled around, we were lucky enough to be able to find a sitter for the kids as Mrs. Taylor couldn’t watch them anymore.  A lady from our church took the job and instead of just babysitting for Scott and Sarah, she integrated them into her family—providing them with life experiences and unconditional love that encouraged them to be independent, wonderful children. 

                I decided to prepare for going back to school by unpacking my suitcase.

The Pending Adventure

            I was a bit nervous about going back to school, but I was excited about my 3-wk science course.  Then we got the school bill for almost $400 for the one class.  I called the school to make sure that was correct.

            “Yes, that is correct,” the faceless voice on the phone said, “It is more expensive because you will be taking a field trip.”

            “Oh, ok!  That sounds like fun.”  I hung up without asking any other questions. 

            Recovering from a stroke was difficult.  I didn’t realize at the time how impaired my mind was.  I forgot how to pick up on communication clues.  When Roseann had asked me if I had worn my jacket during the entire meeting with the school counselor, I didn’t say (as most normal people would), yes, why do you ask?  I did realize that the double vision occurrences might be a bit “inconvenient.”  I was also still experiencing some disorientation and inappropriate laughing, but those two symptoms happened rarely, so I thought maybe I would be okay.  Regardless, I knew I just had to learn to deal with these things as they happened.

            When the faceless voice told me we would be going on a “field trip” in our science class, I was excited but not cognizant enough to ask ‘where.’  I thought of the field trips I had taken as a child in school—the potato chip factory, the water filtration plant, the war memorial in the park, etc.  I figured we would be visiting nature centers, streams, and other “outdoor” places we could study.

            My first night of class, I was surprised by the very small number of people.  I looked at the catalog again and saw that the size was limited to 12.  Weird, I thought, college classes are usually larger, not smaller.

            “Good evening, pork eaters,” greeted the instructor.  I looked around for cues on how to react.  Everyone laughed, so I laughed, too.

            Our instructor proceeded to review what class number we were in and then take attendance.  Then he passed out the syllabus.  I noticed there were only five days listed for the campus.

            “We will be spending a total of 12 days on our field trip, including one weekend.  You will be choosing a topic of research.  We will leave on Monday at 6 a.m., head up to Canada, Canoe for a total of 10 days, 2 days for travel.  You will work on your research project as you canoe.  You need to choose a topic relevant to that region.   We will spend the first three days preparing for our trip and the last two days of class will be spent in presenting your findings on your topic.  We will be drawing numbers to see who will be in canoe groups, everyone will have a short training session once we reach the outfitters in Quetico, I hope everyone can swim.”

            I looked around at the other 11 participants.  Nobody else seemed surprised.  They must of picked up on the communication cues ahead of time and asked, “A field trip, eh?  Where will that be to?”  I acted as if I knew all about it.  I was learning to be a good pretender.

            I got home from my first class.  Michael was waiting anxiously, “How did it go?”

            “You will never believe this,” I answered flopping on the couch, “we are going to Quetico, Canada for 10 days of canoeing!!”

            I almost dropped the class.  I wasn’t even sure I could hold a canoe paddle and how was I going to portage equipment when I was so weak?  Plus, 10 days with people I didn’t know and who didn’t know why I was so crazy?  I just couldn’t imagine it.  But Michael encouraged me to do it.  He made arrangements for the kids and pushed me to “stretch” myself.  I agreed.  If nothing else, I was sure I would learn a lot! 

            I began to assemble the items on the list that I needed to take.  We would be leaving in a couple of days.  Michael helped me pile up the clothes, shoes, insect repellent, and first aid items required in between the shifts of making bottles, changing diapers, and playing with the kids.  Here I was, a new mother,  less than a year from being out of the hospital, only able to comprehend what I could read for about 3 months, and I was going to be spending my days canoeing with 11 people I didn’t know  and my evenings doing a research project.  Field trip?  I laughed when I thought of how the faceless voice had taken me in.

  This reeked of a major adventure to me!