Recently I had the opportunity to reflect on a very difficult health crisis and how it effected my family.

I was sorting paper work, getting rid of clutter and cherishing wonderful memories and keep sakes as I discovered them among the chaos.

One tattered piece of paper I opened as I was filing, was a writing exercise that my oldest daughter had written  several months after my recovery.

Looking back, I realize that I was unaware how deeply the incident had effected her.  Briana is usually very good at expressing her emotions, but I’m sure she was trying to “take care of mom”, and didn’t want to worry me with her anxiety.

The whole ordeal took a lot out of me.   Life was kinda foggy for me at the time.  I was doing all I could just to get back on my feet, and I wasn’t even recognizing my own symptoms of depression.

It makes me a little sad that I wasn’t there for her, but I’m so glad that she was able to express those feelings right there in her creative writing class almost a year later.

In 2005, at the end of March, my baby brother was born.

Just a bundle of velvet skin.

I was so anxious that something might happen to my mom, but everything was fine.

A few months later, I was alarmed and frightened to see my mother’s neck slowly blow up like a balloon.

Soon it looked like a red rock sticking out of her neck.

It was scary.

She went to the doctor, and they put her in the hospital.  When that happened, I felt really terrified.

Though I have been away from my mom before,

it was never because she was in the hospital.

We had to stay with friends.

It was very hard to go to sleep at night

knowing my mom was in the hospital with a fever as hot as a fire.

I felt helpless and worried.  My sister was so scared she couldn’t sleep at all.

While I was at play practice my mom was always on my mind.

I was just so concerned that my mom would get worse, and maybe even die.

I was praying she would be okay.

Everything just felt so weird.

My mom came home three days later, but it seemed like forever.

Our friends mom was so nice that she made us feel at home,

but is it just wasn’t our home.

It sure seemed like more than three days.

When mom finally came home,

I was as happy as my bouncing baby brother.

Mom still had to go to the doctor to get rid of the rock completely.

It took a while for her to heal, but now all that’s left is a scar.

Just a scar

– By Briana

Briana told me that she wrote that “poem”, as she called it, during after-school care and she talked with Ms. Sandra about that scary time.  She spoke of several women in the Volcano Village community that were very comforting when she needed it most.

Are you teaching your children and grand-children to reach out to their community for the support they need?

The only way to teach that is by example!

Ask for help, be helpful and become a community!

I’m so grateful to my local community for the caring gestures that kept her smiling and running with the other kids.  Childhood should be a playful time.

It really does take a village to raise a child.  I credit my village with preventing symptoms of depression in my young daughter, when I was too sick to do it myself!

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Many blessings,

Carrie Tucker, RCP

The Life Breath Coach

Heart Failure Solutions

PS –  Remember everyday:

• Relax and Release tension
• Exhale Slowly
• Be active in a way that adds Joy to your life

Plus pure water ~whole foods~sunshine~and laughter