Krystal Festerly
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Krystal Festerly

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"We are like the little branch that quivers during a storm, doubting our strength and forgetting we are the tree - deeply rooted to withstand all of life's upheavals."

~Dodinsky

InspirationKrystaldzFebruary 3, 2014Comment
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The 52 ProjectKrystaldzFebruary 3, 2014

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Life is Better Together

This was taken a few weeks ago, probably around 2 am sitting in the hospital parking lot. It was the first time I really cried over what is happening. There are days where the world around me feels so far away like there's a veil between me and everyone else, disconnected from all of the smiling faces. The sound of my shoes clacking down the now-familiar hallways, nurses laughing, families crying, birth, death, all housed in one place, it's almost too much. Staring out of his hospital window as birds flew by, the world beyond these sick walls moving along like it always does, reminding me just how tragically beautiful this life really is. Yet sometimes I long for the time before all of this, before the hospital, and the seizures, and the prognosis. Sometimes I want to give this gift back, this knowledge of the fragility of life-- no thank you, return to sender. Sometimes I want to go back to that blissful naivete that allowed me to go from day to day worried about nothing and everything and nonsense. It's almost cruel to be taught such a significant and life-changing lesson this way. ~ Day 31: Sitting by his bedside with my head resting on the railing as he quietly slept, my eyes closed, lost and lonely. Then suddenly the warmest hand reached up and cradled my cheek, it was his hand-- bruised and sore, poked and prodded, thin and calloused, it instantly flooded me with a tangible comfort, soothing my frayed edges, reminding me of the love that we share. How I wish his hand could stay there forever. #WhenIGetoThinking #NehemiahsAVMJourney
Sitting by his bedside, another day that didn’t go as planned. I got a call once his embolization was done, they perforated a vessel in the AVM, my ears started ringing— he got it under control quickly, but shortly after they called a stroke code on him. When I got back to the hospital he had a seizure. I walked in his room, he couldn’t move his arm, and the right side of his face was droopy, he could barely mutter, “I caaan’t...can’t move,” then he cried like I have never seen before. It took everything in me not to buckle, not to break down along with him. Instead, I whispered in his ear that it would be ok, that he would come back, that I would help him, that he just needed to fight— desperately needing to believe the words. ~ “God sees you, I’m here and I love you, you have to come home to the girls ok?” I whispered. ~ Hours went by, the MRI came back showing no signs of a stroke. They think maybe it was the bleed during the embolization that caused the weakness and facial drooping, plus the seizure. ~ His can only speak a word or so at a time now, mostly I just smile at him and he smiles back, and that’s enough for now. #NehemiahsAVMJourney
Yesterday was one of those quiet simple days that I’ll never forget. He walked without a walker and stayed awake for the entire day for the first time in 25 days, it was absolutely remarkable. ~ He hasn’t been using his right arm even though he’s right-handed since the two bleeds. He has about a 40% loss/deficit on that side. To build up strength I had him write 2 important things that happened in his daily reminder notebook, it was extremely hard and very frustrating for him— it took a long time and some cheering and encouragement along the way, but he did it! We watched a movie together, we laughed together, we cried together, we talked, we reminisced, we sat in silence, each of us wondering what the future holds. I bathed him and helped him eat dinner before it was time to go home, put the girls to bed and get some work done. There are no adequate words to explain how pulled I feel when I leave him, or when I leave the girls, I’m bound to them all as if they are an extension of myself. I ran back to his room twice to kiss him before finally leaving, something I would have never done before all of this, for fear that I would look silly in others eyes, or just because I thought there would always be a tomorrow. Knowing what I know now I would run back a thousand times if it meant more time. ~ Tomorrow he’s scheduled to have another embolization to coil three more potential bleeds they found on his AVM. ~ Yesterday is in the past, let it go, Tomorrow isn’t promised, so let it go, hold on to Today, because Today is all you have. #WhenIGetoThinking #NehemiahsAVMJourney
Crispy edges, that’s an accurate description of my garden right now, Summer has settled in while I’ve been living at the hospital by his side. Crispy edges, also, an accurate description of how I feel, burnt out, fried, still standing in the sun. I got up early this morning and went outside to water, I stood there staring at all of the things that have died, the fruit that has rotted on the tree, the tomatoes that were scorched by the sun, poblanos that have since turned yellow with stripes of red. As I stood there heart racing, hot tears stainig my cheeks, I imagined myself ripping every single one of these bruised and battered plants out of the ground. I could see myself clear as day laying waste to the garden I so carefully planted all those months ago, it would be easy and maybe make me feel better. Instead I prayed again for strength and watered my neglected plants, removing the dead leaves and picked the over-ripened fruit. ~ It's been 24 days without him here, Twenty-four. You melt into each other over the years I suppose, unknowingly, distracted by life and all of the little things that you allow to get under your skin. He’s my compass, my battery, a recharge when the world becomes too much, my protector, my laughter, my listening ear, my warm spot-- even the words I write, it was him who would carefully read and edit them. ~ Falling asleep without him here, the loneliness is palpable, I am the over-ripened fruit. #WhenIGetoThinking #NehemiahsAVMJourney
Krystal Donovan Photography
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