Bobbling Along the Bottom of the Beautiful Briny Sea

    There is a huge part of me that wishes my life was way less complicated but then I look back at all the adventures and laugh. I shake my head frequently wondering how in the heck I or those around me managed to survive. Today was an adventure all in its own right because of the few aspects of today that forced me to reflect on my life around this time last year. It all swirls around a loud obnoxious truck that I hate with every fiber in my being and a small tan camper with the main character thrown into the story, my dear husband. I will break the story up into two parts. First I need to discuss some history so you understand how this ties into the multicolored truck and a small tan camper.

Do not let the black and white filter fool you. It is to hide the multi-colored truck and the small camper.

    Close to this time last year, I was pregnant. I felt as if nearly on the verge of going into labor. It had been like my last two successful pregnancies where I felt amazing. One pregnancy prior was not full of lollipops and pony rides. I suffered with the misfortune of a miscarriage. You know, the death of child. The dreadful event that most are unable to talk about or if they do, people give a super insensitive response.  My miscarriage was related to an imbalance of my hormone levels. I joyfully deal with Graves Disease. A thyroid issue that the doctors diagnosed me with back in 2010 or maybe it was 2011 but regardless, the diagnoses was a game changer. I will never forget the two year battle of walking in and out of the hospital and/ or doctors offices where it always felt like the same song and dance. I was 22 in the beginning. I was young, much more youthful with a materialistic attitude and the added bonus of being skinny. My youth and looks must have somehow led the medical staff to dismiss all of my complaints and symptoms.
           I remember one particular visit to the hospital. It had been the third trip that month. All the same complaints of feeling like I had just finished running a race.Only I truly hate to run nor have any desire to burn off all my fat.  I was eating three times the amount of my husband and yet I lost 30 lbs in 6 weeks. It sounds fantastic but it was not. I was so hyped up I could hear my heart pounding in my head when I sat down. Yet the doctor suggested I go home. I needed to take Advil because no girl my age could possibly feel as awful as I did. As I walked out the door feeling frustrated, I overheard the doctor pull my husband off to the side and insinuate that I was only a drug seeker and my symptoms were not real.

         Weeks later I collapsed while walking down the hall of the hospital. My heart rate had been measured at around 180 and my blood pressure was 200 and something with the bottom number over a hundred. My heart was beating too incredibly fast. Numerous trips in and out of the doctor offices and test after test led me down a very amazing path. I say amazing because it ripped a very materialistic attitude right out from deep inside of me. I was forced to think about life and at times feared  whether I would be alive to watch my daughter grow up.
         The funny part about that time in my life is that I will never forget the day I was diagnosed. Now, please do not get me wrong. I love doctors and respect them. However I feel that some are so book smart and so career focused that they forget one major component of life. Compassion! They forget that people are in fact, people. With that being said, the doctor who diagnosed me was in fact one of those doctors. We had dealt with him on numerous occasions. He waltzed right up in our tiny white walled room fit for a crazy person. As if having the time of his life, he announced that one of the tests came back positive. It meant I had a thyroid disease. He went straight into how studies show 3 out of 5 people diagnosed with a chronic disease end up with their marriage ending in a divorce. Wow! Nothing like going straight for the jugular. In a whooping 5 minute time window the doctor not only diagnosed someone with a disease that uses a word eerily familiar to gravestones, death and the end of your life plus he managed to dish out an added bonus. He informed me that my husband will leave me. Super awesome sauce!!!! Now the story gets fun.

      My husband is so chill about anything and everything. It is difficult at times to read his emotions. He is Dutch and apparently his demeanor is a typical characteristic for the Dutch. I have learned over the years that he smiles with his eyes. Unlike me his smile never hides his whole face nor does it force his eyes to close. Whether it rains or snows he stays right on keeping on with that same super chill attitude. On this particular moment I saw that twinkle in his eye. I knew he had an ace up his sleeve but I was too shocked to care. He rustled ever so slightly in his chair while leaning forward with his hands rested on his knees. His head was very controlled as he raised slightly. He looked at the doctor and interrupted his routine speech he had probably given to a thousand other patients.

My husband cleared his throat and stated, " I have one question. Is there lemon laws?" 

The doctor was obviously rattled, confused and barely made clear speech. "um, excuse me? I am trying to explain to you your wife's condition and what you can expect." 

Rodney spoke again. "I know. I understand but are there lemon laws for wives? I am asking because my wife is obviously broken and we've been married only a short time. Are there any laws that state I can return her. You know, like with a brand new car?"

     That's my husband.He successfully succeeded in breaking the tension and easing my stress levels. He is a noob but he is my noob.

    Read Part 2 for the rest of the story about how my husbands need to improve my spirits led into a grand adventure during a vacation that included snow covered mountains followed by the sandy beaches where the wild mustangs roam.