Rowan’s Big Adventure

Decemberdesk_001_1Well my birthday was last Monday and it was a mellow but
mostly happy affair. Chris took the four
of us out to The Olive Garden, ‘cause you know…when you’re there you’re
family. We traipsed all over Prescott
though, trying to find a computer desk – my gift to be from Chris. We had no luck on Monday; so we ventured once
more out to the big city on Wednesday. This time we managed to procure said desk, and hurried home to spend the
next 3 hours assembling it while juggling a toddler and no fewer than twelve
different types of screws, nails and hinges. Decemberdesk_004_sized_down_1

Can you believe that a man who is currently acing all of his
blueprinting exams, and has a history in construction, can still get frustrated
to point of swearing while assembling something as supposedly simple as a store
bought desk. Well believe it. So, by the second hour, we were also juggling
White Russians. Eventually Chris told me
to go to bed, and that he’d finish it up while I slept. I awoke super early Thursday to the sight of
a lovely computer armoire sitting prettily in my kitchen. Like a full-bladdered kid on Christmas
morning I began dancing around the kitchen…visions of un-hunched backs
flitting through my head. I could
imagine how wonderfully uncluttered things would become in my life.

After making coffee, I began the arduous task of
disassembling my computer and all of its various components, each item getting
a thorough scrub down with a damp cloth. Another couple of hours later all was in its rightful place. This was the moment of reckoning. I turned on the hard drive. Lights flickered as the machine buzzed to
life. The monitor lit up welcoming me
back to my cyber life. With all
proceeding according to plan, I clicked upon the EarthLink icon. No dial tone. I clicked again.  No dial
tone. I moved wires from slot A to slot
B and tried again. Scratching my head I
sat down for a sip of coffee. That’s
when I saw it. I had, during the
computer transition, plugged the phone directly into the wall jack. This way if the Hospital needed to contact
us, a call could come in unhindered. Thinking that I was too smart for my own good I quickly remedied the
situation and dialed-up to the internet.

Yes, because we live in an exceptionally rural area, we have
the distinct pleasure of dial-up. Gone
is the luxury of talking on the phone while making travel plans, or tracking
down that super cute flash animation cartoon I just HAVE to share with my
mother, friend, or other. In fact, we
have even subscribed to Call-Wave. (I’m
sure you’ve seen the pesky pop-up banners from them.) This service works as both caller ID and
voice mail when we are on the telephone or internet. Additionally, we have the luxury of
disconnecting to have the call rerouted directly to us should we wish to take
it. Quite a handy service to have.

So as usual when I connected to the internet, the Call-Wave box popped up. And to my horror I could
see that seven – no eight calls had come in from Children’s Hospital on
Wednesday while we were out. I felt sick
and panicky. Wednesday I had not been
able to find my cell phone before we left. I purchased a prepaid for the sole purpose of the hospital contacting
us, and was not used to keeping track of it despite trying to get in the habit
of carrying it around with me. But, I
figured on Wednesday morning, they told us we have about six months…I can
risk it just this once.

Flash back to Thursday. I see all these calls from Children’s and begin to FREAK OUT! Did we leave the computer on-line? We did leave in a hurry. How could I have done this? Where’s my phone? Oh my god!!!! I ran into the bedroom and began blubbering incomprehensibly at Chris. Phone…hospital…seven calls…where is
it…I’M SO SORRY. Chris shot out of bed
like a bullet and we began tearing the entire house apart. We looked under living room chairs and beside
the fridge. We lifted the floor mats in
the van. We freaked out further. After all, for the call to come in this
quickly, it would have to be a perfect match. Understandably(?), the whole time I alternated between mumbling in some
pathetic manner and shrieking like a banshee about how incredibly sorry I was. After what seemed like a lifetime, we
eventually found the phone. It had
fallen behind the bed and was dangling by – get this – the power cord.

So, still panicking heavily, I ran to the computer to find
the number from which the calls had been made. I dialed up. Call-Wave popped
up. I moused over Children’s Hospital to
get the number. What? Huh? This was a (206) number. But
that’s the Seattle area code.   

You know that moment of clarity when everything stops and
you actually feel enveloped in a white light? Well, if you don’t your lucky. I
think it may have something to do with a chemical reaction within the body –
when you’re pumped full of adrenaline and have absolutely nothing left to do
with it.

This had not been, I suddenly realized, THE CALL. It was, in fact, Dr. Becker. The woman who held me in high enough regard
that she thought I’d be a good example and helpful guide for parents new to
this whole Chronic Kidney Disease thing. She had apparently been on a break between 3:00 and 4:00 the afternoon prior. And while sitting at her desk reviewing
charts or performing some other doctorly duty, would occasionally reach over and hit the
redial button to see if we were available for a chat.

Let’s just pause here. I know that I certainly did. I
thought about a few things. Firstly, I
thought about how relieved I was that this was not a true personal tragedy…that
I had simply been given a warning by the universe. Then I thought about how I now planned to get
a car phone charger for my cell phone so that I never even needed to take it
into the house. But more importantly, I
thought about this poor family in Washington who was just beginning on this
path. I pondered my role in helping to
calm them and let them know that everything was going to be OK, in some totally
life altering and unfathomable way. I
apologized to Chris for causing him such worry and vowed to try to only let my
more unimportant thoughts be pushed out of my overcrowded and stressed to the
hilt brain.

Then I picked up the phone and called Dr. Becker to find out
how I could help.

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9 thoughts on “Rowan’s Big Adventure

  1. Hoooo boy. What a relief and what a nightmare at the same time. And a “wake up call” about stress too. I am so glad it worked out. Breathing, breathing, breathing for you 🙂

  2. Wow, what a nightmare. I’m glad it all worked out. Happy belated birthday and congrats on the new desk! The first set up looked nice, but not very comfortable at all. 🙂

  3. Eeek. It was an uncomfortable eyesore that I moved from house to house for years.

    I’m so glad to transition those pieces of furniture on to more appropriate functions.

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