A few days ago everyone remembered, in some way, the tragedy America suffered as a nation and family at the hands of terrorists. The day the twin towers fell, a plane crashed in a Pennsylvania field, and one into the Pentagon. So many victims, such a senseless end to innocent life, an irreparable hole torn into so many families' and friends' relationships. An event that changed many of our outlooks on political interaction with other countries, and the footprint we left forever after that day. As I ran this last Wednesday morning, September 11th, I found myself looking back at the last twelve years of my life, what I went through and what I learned.
I woke up that morning twelve years ago for no particular reason and went directly to the television and turned it on--not my usual routine. I was currently attending Pittsburg State University taking Masters classes in English, and teaching two classes as a teaching assistant. I was also living with my boyfriend then, Justin Carriker, and working at Sirloin Stockade when I wasn't working at the University. I was pretty booked back then, and pretty stressed. And when I saw the Twin Towers smoldering, and then as the second plane hit, I was completely shocked. In my young years I could not comprehend such violence and hate, and loss of life. It was my first experience with terrorism. It changed how many people looked at our current political situation and where we stood as a country. I have to admit that I was one of the people screaming for blood, for revenge for the innocents slayed for some reason that I could not comprehend.
Years down the road I have grown some--mentally and chronologically. I dropped out of my last semester of Masters courses for a number of reasons...financial and I found out I was pregnant. Not what I had planned for myself, an unwed student whose boyfriend was off and on because he was always on the lookout for the greener grass on the side of as many fences that he came in contact with. Needless to say, I was stressed. And something wasn't right with the pregnancy. At 26 weeks I went into preclampsia which by the time I got to Joplin Freeman was full blown eclampsia. I had HELP syndrome, could barely breathe because the blood capsule around the liver had swollen up 3 times its size. One nurse at LCMC told myself to "get a hold of myself I was just hyperventilating". When they took a blood sample (I should say several because they couldn't believe the readings) they got me an ambulance to Joplin. I gave birth to a son, Michael Damian Traxson, and lost him three days later. I was lost for a few years after that. It's not something one can dismiss easily, or handle well. At least, it was not something I handled well.
During this time my father had a heart attack/stroke issues. His decline scared me, I wanted him to experience a grandchild. I got pregnant a year later and had a beautiful daughter, Snowden Chalea. He adored her, and she loved her Grandpa so much. She still tells me she misses her Grandpa (who passed away in 2008), and she is glad that when she gets to heaven she will be able to see him again as well as the brother she never got the chance to meet. Although my parents weren't thrilled I risked my health to have another child they were so happy with my baby...a little spoiling never hurts anyone. Before I lost my wonderful father I am glad that he got to see me realize my worth again and I got Justin out of my life permanently. (He went after that green grass on the other side of the fence, and I had decided such a blatant action screamed for an end to a bad relationship.) I met a wonderful man, Gary Davis, whom a friend had introduced to me. Not usually good with blind set-ups, I was a sceptic, but we just "clicked". I found the guy that I knew God wanted for me, and I have been blessed each day to have found my soul mate...he would probably not want such gushy stuff written about him, but that is who I am, so deal with it, baby.
All was good--I got on at Walmart full time, worked my way up to department manager of Hardware/Furniture/ and parts of Domestic. Gary and I got married and he adopted Snowden, making her his official daughter. My little brother Jonathan married his long time love, Debbie Cox, and my other little brother and his long time girlfriend, Jennifer Novak began planning a wedding for the next year. So much was happening that when I started to feel really sick after Halloween 2011, I thought it was a flu that I just couldn't shake. By the week before Thanksgiving I had to simply give in and see the doctor. He came back with "Your kidneys have failed." I sobbed on the way to the hospital. My father had spent three years on dialysis before he passed away and I saw what treatment did to him each time he went. I was friggin 36 for Pete's sake!!! This was not in my grand scheme of life. I had to leave my job, file for disability, and try to get better. There was not "get better" for me on dialysis. I just couldn't seem to get it straight--always too much fluid would get pulled off, I went through 3 catheters in my jugular within three months, and three surgeries to create a fistula in my left arm. I worked on getting on the transplant list at Via Christi in Wichita, but at the last day for my interview they closed the program down at Via Christi, and I was lost. So angry and frustrated, my awesome cousin convinced me to start training for my first half marathon. I had been running when I felt good on non dialysis days, so I gritted my teeth and trained. I was tired of putting my life on hold. At the Prairie Fire Marathon in Wichita in 2012 I made it in just under three hours and I was so proud of myself. I started to feel like an old tiger that still had her teeth, despite all of her scars. I trained for another half marathon and listed on the transplant list at St. Johns in Tulsa.
Life happens constantly. My husband blew out his knee with an AK 47 (it accidentally discharged--misfire) and I was thrown into balancing dialysis and caregiver. I was stretched thin, and postponed my spring half marathon to the fall Prairie Fire half marathon. After a couple of months and a stubborn man blessed with healing and determination I got the call from St. Johns that they had the perfect kidney for me. It wasn't exactly the best timing for me, but I couldn't say no to a better life--you just go with God's flow! I spent 3 1/2 days in the hospital and 5 days in a motel so I could do daily lab work. And let me tell you, I felt amazing after waking up in ICU after the surgery!!! I wanted to get out and start training for my fall half marathon as soon as my incision was healed, but the docs held the reins pretty tightly. The day I was released to run again I went home and ran two miles. Ran/walk, because my left side is still pretty weak, due to the doctors completely cutting through my abdominal muscles so that they could connect my new kidney. My husband had pushed himself taking full care of our girl, and I am glad that I was feeling better because he needed my help to rehabilitate his back as well as the knee cap-less leg.
And that's where I am at now...a lifetime later it seems. And if you read this whole blog you probably feel that you just lost a lifetime as well. (Ha, ha! But, seriously.) I have seen terrible things throughout the twelve years since 9/11, both in the outside world, as well as my own inner sanctum. And I think that we have all came out of these past twelve years stronger than we were before them. It's what we Americans have always done--taken terrible events and used them as a ladder to take ourselves to a higher plane. It is only when we let the horrible drag us under in despair and loss of self that we let the event take control of our life and we lose the vital part that makes us great. God has made us with every possibility of greatness, how can we fail with God at our side?
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