Hello Dahlings!

Master Blender Lisa has been Blending Her ONE with His FIVE for 18 years.  With THREE Ex Spouses, THREE Step Parents and SIX kids we are living the Blended, Not Stirred dream.  Is that even a thing?


March 1, 2010 - Post in honor of 1 year anniversary.

I immediately call Raylan, to update him. He tells me he's on his way. Everything points to this being a slam dunk. She'll have her surgery, spend a night in the hospital and then home. This whole crazy thing will be over before we know it. Yet, my gut instincts keep gently tapping me on the shoulder. You know things are about to get a lot worse. I keep pushing those feelings down, can't let them create hysteria when there was no physical signs suggesting something other than it's just a bump in the road.

Little did I know that my feelings would become reality in the time it takes to pour a cup of coffee. Little Hart went from talking and laughing one minute to delirous and completely out of it the next. Her blood pressure had taken a nose dive to a dangerously low level. Life threatening level!

Raylan arrives. I tell him, she was doing great when I called you and now she's incoherent. I go through the whole scenario. Raylan walks over and gently kisses her forehead, "I Love You! Can you hear me?" A barely audible Little Hart, "I love you Daddy" The nurse comes in acting calm and matter of fact. Little Hart's blood pressure will not come back up. They have no choice. They have to start her on medication to stabilize her BP. Which means that LIttle Hart will be moved to the ICU for 24/7 monitoring and her own dedicated nurse.

Immediately, the negotioation in my mind starts, ICU? No!No! Please God don't let that happen again!** People die there! I guess a apart of me thought I thought if she didn't go to the ICU, it couldn't be serious and nothing bad would happen. As I write those words now, I know just how silly they seem, but at the time they seemed so reasonable, possible.

Greta and I are sitting in the two chairs next to the examine table that Little Hart's lying on and Raylan is pacing back and forth. Nervous. Other than that his exterior is cool as a cucumber. Step-Dad Sal arrives. Now it's the four of us waiting in this tiny ER room for a doctor, nurses, anyone to come in with a plan to fix this whole thing.

The inevitable small talk, but the tension is thick. Our relationships have all been strained by Little Hart's troubled relationships with the two of them. I don't remember the last time I spent longer than three minutes around Greta before today and it's been distant and tense. The few times I've seen Sal I've avoided having any contact with him.

For close to a year, every time Little Hart had come back from their home, it hadn't been good. We had tried to empower her to express her feelings in a positive way rather than from anger. Raylan had talked numerous times to Greta, but to no avail. Their relationships had been worse than ever before today and yet life had thrown us all together in a tiny space waiting for hope. Regardless of what had transpired in the past, it was clear, we all loved Little Hart. As the minutes ticked by our swords slowly fell to the ground and we found ourselves on one side, the same side. Loving, supporting, praying for Little Hart as she faced unknown future.

Finally, the team of doctor's come in. We can't do surgery with her blood pressure this low. Have ordered an MRI to get a better idea of what's going on. When her blood pressure is stable we'll do the surgery. Probably tomorrow.

The nurses come to take Little Hart for an MRI. Greta and I go with her. Little Hart still not talking, not sure she knows where she is and that we're here with her. We both talk nervously. We over hear a nurses say, "we need to be prepared if she CRASHES! NEED TO HAVE EASY ACCESS TO REVIVE HER!" Greta looks at me, mouths "If she crashes? Revive her?' We stand starring at each other in shock, complete disbelief. Tears well up in our eyes and a single tear slowly rolls down the cheek.  A slow motion scene from Grey's Anatomy, only this isn't a TV program we can turn off. It was the start of a nightmare you can't wake up from.
                                                                                                                                                                                                 TO BE CONTINUED...
**Fifteen years ago, my 27 year old brother went into the ICU and died thirty days later.