Karwoski Life

So last week Matt and I visited Younker Rehab to meet with an outpatient physical therapist and a mobility/seating specialist to discuss options for a new set of wheels for Matt. We were excited for the possibility of ditching the old wheels for something slightly smaller, lighter perhaps, and better fitting to him…but once we started making our ways through the oh-so-familiar hallways I started to freak out a bit. My stomach was in knots, my palms were sweaty…I suddenly flashed back to long, long days in those hallways…enduring hours and hours of grueling therapy.   It must have been post-traumatic stress! While there were days of hope and days filled with promise, in general it was a very dark time for us. I still can’t believe all that we’ve been through…but anyway, we met with the specialists and it didn’t take long for my heebie jeebies to pass. Soon we were discussing Matt’s needs, and the VAST array of options – our minds spinning at how many things there were to consider....

My sister and I have always had a love/hate/love relationship. ‘Hope’s the Pope who smokes dope’, I would taunt. ‘Emily FAAAG’, she would cleverly reply. On more than one occasion she tried to convince me I was adopted, and I have oodles of scars on my arms from her razor sharp finger nails. Many a tantrum was thrown in our childhood home…stomping feet, slamming doors, narrowed eyes and curled lips.   There was the time I refused to unlock the front door to let her in and she refused to walk around to the unlocked back door. The time when I was driving her crazy making obnoxious sounds with the vacuum cleaner wand…until she kicked it and chipped my tooth. Of course she got in trouble, because I was miss perfect. Over the years we ripped each other’s posters, stole each other’s clothes, and annoyed each other’s friend to no end. Our parents gave up being referee and eventually told us to work things out on our own…perhaps not the fairest trade, since we could both be pretty mean w...

You take the good, you take the bad. You take them both and there you have, the Facts of Life. If you’re a child of the 80’s you’re singing the rest of those lyrics in your head right now…and if you’re anything like me, they’ll be stuck in there for a good, long while. Sorry for that. These lyrics have been stuck on repeat in my mind for the past several weeks…as it seems we are experiencing an unusual bumpy road lately. In a matter of four weeks, we have experienced the lowest lows and the highest highs…and some good stuff in between. I’m not sure how much detail I can or want to post on this blog…so we’ll see. I apologize in advance if I seem a little vague. Let’s just say this…it’s been rough. My world has been shaken, my heart has been broken and we’ve both shed more than just a few tears.  We’ve struggled to make the pieces fit together and try to come to some sort of understanding as to why things happen the way they do. We’ve struggled to reconcile such extreme emotions ...

So September rolled around again…that sneaky month I love and used to dread all at the same time. It signifies so much – the changing seasons, the coming fall (FULL of things we love), Matt’s birthday, and of course the anniversary of when everything changed for us. September 14 th . Each year, as I reflect on the date, I never know quite how I’m going to feel. Some years it’s easy, some years, not so much. But every year I definitely find myself pausing a bit and reflecting on things. This year, September 14 th came and nearly went without us even being aware. We had started September with so many good things.  We’d spent Labor Day weekend relaxing with my parents in Oklahoma – kicking off our first Football Saturday at their place (complete with chex mix and victories for both IA and ISU!). We’d had our goddaughter overnight – loving up on a very special toddler always fills our heart with joy.  We’d celebrated Matt’s birthday with family and looked forward to man...

A coworker and friend of mine died tragically in a car accident last evening. I heard about it first thing this morning from his leader as he sat in my office and calmly told me face to face about our loss. I sank into my chair in shock, the waves of tears completely overcoming me. I listened to the words he told me, but couldn’t grasp their meaning. Someone I saw or talked to nearly every day was gone…just like that. I was devastated. Overcome with grief. I managed to compose myself for short periods of time throughout the day, but eventually the reality of it all floods me again and I can’t catch my breath. It’s so shocking and sudden, my mind can’t make heads or tails of it. Just two days ago, I sat on a stool next to this man, having a drink with other coworkers. Shooting the breeze, telling stories, laughing and teasing one another. And that will be the last time. I just celebrated my 11th anniversary at this job – on this team – with many of the same people. This man was on...

Matt and I have been vacationing in MN most of our lives. We take it for granted, but I realize its something special that we both grew up spending time up north with our parents and grandparents. We have years and years of memories between the two of us...so many wonderful memories. We honeymooned at the small resort my grandparents once owned and we've joined Matt's parents up north at their favorite resort many times. I guess you could say MN is in our blood...one of our favorite vacation spots for sure.  Of course, since Matt's stroke a MN vacation presents many more challenges. The cabins are not accessible at all, the boat is downright scary to get on and off, and the ramp going up to the cabin is nearly vertical.  But Matt endured all the challenges with a smile on his face and glimmer of joy in his eye, even when he tumbled in the bathroom he laughed and hollered out to us 'I'm OK!'.  I smiled as I snuck a picture of Matt and his dad stringing fis...

My dear friend Jami will be pulling on her tough girl pants next week as she prepares for her husband’s heart surgery. She’s been on my mind a lot lately, and it got me thinking about toughness.   Mental toughness, physical toughness, emotional toughness. None of these have historically been my strong suit. I was not born a tough girl.   Of course, I was an adventurous child, who undoubtedly drove my parents wild with dangerous escapades. But the slightest injury and I was surely a ball of tears on my Dad’s lap.   Even today, I am still exhilarated by the fresh reward of escaping shenanigans without injury.   I peeshawed Gina and her watchful parents as they cautioned me against certain death as I insisted on clambering down the rocky Irish coastal cliff towards the ocean roaring below.   I was alive with the excitement of making my way so close to the wild waves crashing below me – only slightly unnerved by the increasingly forceful winds blowing against t...