Saturday, January 31, 2015

2-timer

Congrats Aaron Rodgers on his 2nd NFL MVP.

Would prefer a Suber Bowl, but hey, can't win every year :)

Enjoy the commercials tomorrow everyone..

-Cheek

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Last night

      So I'm sitting home with Scarlett yesterday, typical Wednesday, Sarah comes home from school like normal around 3:30. Short time later she asks me if I want to play darts tonight. She saw a friend of hers on Facebook had asked if anyone was able to be a substitute for his dart team. She said that I should. I was a little iffy about doing it because it has been so long since I've done anything outside the house and more so outside the house, alone.
      Now, let me tell a little bit about myself pertaining to this story. I've never had an issue with doing things alone, whether it be going to a movie, going to any bar, clothes shopping or shopping in general. I could be happy sitting on the couch watching TV literally all day and enjoy my time. Not only didn't I have an issue with these things, I actually rather like to. That has surely changed, and not just in the spending time with Sarah and the kids way, but the way I needed to be with someone to be able to help me if I fell or choked, needed an inhaler or any other help that could be too difficult by myself. Also, I'm a dart nerd. Or I guess was a dart nerd. Started playing league darts and tournaments over 16 years ago. Was usually a highlight of my week hanging with friends and playing semicompetitive darts. Then with the bar the last two years I started only playing part time, and then of course I got sick. When we were closing up for a night at work, I grabbed a handful of darts and tried to see what I could do. Well I clearly didn't have my strength or muscle memory back and my first several darts missed the board, and the next few hit but we're pretty bad. That was sometime in June and hadn't touched darts since.
      Ok, back to last night. I was nervous! Actually nervous to go play darts, by myself, for the first time in what seems like forever. So I went. Sarah didn't literally push me out the door, but she really thought it would be good for me to get out of the house and have fun. The dart match was at champs and was happy to find the boards were not up the stairs. So we shot darts and had a lot of fun, we ended up losing the tie breaker and lost overall 6-7. I played ok, perhaps better than expected, I mean after my fisrt practice game I got tired and sat down lol. Wasn't too bad after that as I sat down as often as I could, (when normally I would never sit, I'd shoot darts and when it wasn't my turn I would be at the bar getting drinks) and tried to pace myself. It was a lot of fun. I met two guys I didn't know who played darts and then ran into several of the familiar ones including parts of my past team. Great seeing everyone and people were fun to be around again.
      Now today. I hurt, lol. Yeah I had a few drinks but nothing crazy or late, as I was home and in bed around 10:30. But my body hurts. I hurt every morning, but it was way worse this morning and my dart arm hurts like hell and feels like it's about 200 pounds. It was still worth it as it was nice to get out and be a little more normal for once. When I woke I felt to myself that I'd never do that again, but I am glad that I did, and would do it again, just not every week 😉
Anyway, thanks for letting me play JR., Tev, and Tork.
And good seeing the others.

Thanks for the good night out Sarah!


-Cheek

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Outside of my Box

(This isn't intended to offend anyone)
Well, just one.
So I generally try and steer clear of controversy especially on my blog because people have the right to feel, and usually express, how they want. I enjoy all of my audience and I don't need to know beliefs from any of you loyal readers, the part-timers or any first-timers. But, this is bothering the shit out of me. This Michael F. Moore asshole is out of his mind. I'm not saying this because we share the same name, but our name shows up everywhere now more than ever. I typed in Mike "Cheek" Moore on google and up pops 8 images, 7 of this fat-tard and the 8th of me and Sarah holding the "coming soon" sign for Scarlett. Him, hiding behind words calling anyone a coward is bad enough, but when he calls out a deceased war veteran for being one is flat out an embarrassment. Never seen any of his movies and never will. He has his views and writes or produces books or movies about them, and last I saw he was worth $50 million. Good for you, jerk. I just read today that he continued on about Chris Kyle and other snipers (as well as others) for being cowards because his uncle was supposedly killed by one in WWII and that was what he was taught by his dad growing up. Your a grown, really grown adult, I'm sure you can think for yourself by now. Well, if this is true, shouldn't he understand an enlisted serviceman better and respect how they fight for our rights in this country..? Check this site out..  http://clashdaily.com/2015/01/fishy-investigated-michael-moores-uncle-killed-heres-found/#
I think it's great all of the support coming from our military people about each other and how they think that Moore is a complete waste, waste of time and space. http://www.westernjournalism.com/fellow-seal-sniper-friend-chris-kyle-obliterates-michael-moore-coward-tweet/#v7wWBQlK4ogEmuXv.97
Since I don't plan on changing my name, in order to preserve my (hopefully) good name, I'll either have to become more famous, win the lottery and then since I'd be rich and famous then I would have the right to make statements to the media I'll be relevant. NOT. So, I guess I will just refer to him by his middle name: Francis. Or maybe a better name is Benedict Arnold.
So Francis, you suck. Don't get shot.

-Cheek

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

(2nd attempt) Short story my Mom wrote...

Thank you Sarah for showing me how to load a Power Point to my blog. 
This was a (true) story my Mom wrote for Ryan. He helped a little, but was mainly to help him understand more of what was going on with me in the hospital. 



















Monday, January 19, 2015

Short story book from mom

Shit,
Sorry but I can't get this to work.
I'll keep working on it tomorrow.

-Cheek

DaddyWasSick

Friday, January 16, 2015

Sweet Home Carolina

     I used to believe that I was released from the hospital in Minnesota only because my family had moved south and the doctors felt safe with how I would be able to recover living there. Wasn't sure exactly where we were, but we were close to the ocean and believe it was in one of the Carolina's. I have an uncle that lives in North Carolina so maybe I had that in my head somewhere but I am not sure. I think that the idea of moving me to a warmer climate was in order to help with my lungs and breathing. Not to sound like a 'lunger' or Doc Holliday who were people way back when who in that time moved to the southwest for dryer air, but if you have been to the south east, it gets disgustingly humid in the summer.
     Anyway, we lived in a large, really nice and fancy house but it only had one bathroom. I was now starting to recover, but was still rather sick and basically immobile and unable to talk. I am pretty sure it was summer, or at least it was always nice and warm, with a refreshing breeze and suprising little humidity. None of us did much here, just a lot of relaxing, waiting for Scarlett to be born. (Not sure if she born by this point or not)
     I should back up a tad here and let you know that my family or at least this specific house included Sarah and Ryan, my parents, a nurse who was close to the family, my nephew and one of my life long friend's 12 year old daughter and some paid medical staff. Don't know why my friend's daughter was involved with this dream but she was nonetheless. No need to give names here, but this girl was obsessed with learning about being a nurse, all the ins and outs in the profession but at this point always wanted to change my diaper. Unfortunately I wore one more than I'd like to admit. It was so uncomfortable for me having her not only want to be doing this stuff, but that it was OK with the actual nurses and the rest of my family that she was allowed to. She basically never left my side and took care of me like her patient. I tried to be nice to this girl to not make her feel bad and have somebody else take care of me but I wasn't able to plus she was really persistent. She would talk to me like I was a baby which is pretty degrading. I would try and resist her help, but it only made things worse and I would get weaker and weaker and unable to do anything but let her help. I 'remember' one time when I wanted to go and use the one bathroom and this girl tried and tried to keep me from going so she could change me. I never understood why and I tried my best to talk - telling her that it was inappropriate and I could go to the bathroom myself or at least use the plastic portable urinal. I wasn't strong enough physically to get by her, so I held it as long as I could, struggled like hell, and finally caved and wet myself. It sucks having embarrassing dreams. (Brings back true memories of not able to control my fluids, but being more than awake and aware enough for nurses to come in and clean and change me, ugh)
      For whatever reason all of us in this house decided that we needed to have a party. A full blown house party. Nobody parties like a guy in a hospital bed, two retired grandparents, a pregnant wife, two teenagers and some on-duty nurses. Ha! But several people were invited, mainly including friends from back home. I don't recall a lot of the party itself,  just the morning after. Why? Well because one of our friends who came to the party was lost. Nobody could find him and he wouldn't answer his phone and nobody knew where he was. Jeez, is he alive, did he fall in the ocean? Nobody knew so we just hoped for the best and would call his family every day until we heard from him. Well a couple days passed and a few close friend party-goers still were hanging out at our place and we started to smell a bad odor. Looked around for what it was and couldn't find anything. Looked around all day and still couldn't find what or where it was coming from so we decided to go out on our boat (no idea:) and go for a ride and relax. They wheeled me down the dock in my bed and brought me to this big yacht sized boat and went for a ride. Until the smell got worse. Then we found what it was. Or what they were. Two of our friends were tucked away in cupboards in the boat and were several days dead. We didn't even realize we had two missing friends. They must have gotten on board to sleep and never woke up. We just kind of sat there, in shock, looking around trying to decide what to do. Well, I'm not sure who took charge, but we decided to cover it up and clean and clean and clean and clean. It took days before we were comfortable with the smell. I wasn't even sure who took care of the bodies and what happened to them. I didn't want to know. I would rather not say who these two dead people were but one of them actually did pass away a few years back and I'm not sure if the other guy reads these posts. We never got questioned and the group of us never talked about any of it, we went along as if nothing had happened. This memory spawned some other true (to me) stories that were actually worse.

Lesson, don't go boating with my family.. kidding.

-Cheek

P.S. We don't have a boat.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Darkness within


A wife, 8 months pregnant with her first child dealing with gestational diabetes clinging to hope and doctors while asking every medical staff member what is going on.

A mom and dad sitting in the ICU wondering, waiting, worried beyond control, full of emotions trying to learn how thier child is doing and if he will live.

A brother and his wife also at his side impatiently waiting and listening to everything.

A 6 year old son confused and scared, not sure what to think about anything.

The son, already has a little awkwardness of feelings in school, learning from his parents he is going to retake the first grade for reasons he cannot comprehend now, and are out of his control, actually then starts to fall back in class. Then his daddy gets sick, he comes to visit him and his dad barely remembers. He visits his dad two other times in two months wondering why he sleeps all the time. When his dad wakes up the boy doesn't care about school, he just doesn't get why his can't hug him, or talk to him when all he wants to do is jump in his fathers arms and be held tight.

The brother, who tries to keep things at an even keel as can be between the family. He has spent his fair share in hospitals in his time dealing with cystic fibrosis. He later contracts diabetes as well. Things have been tough the last few years with this brother and his parents for reasons which became uncontrollable. Now in the hospital, watching over every step of the way with the brother and hoping not to make any unwanted waves during these time with the parents, will eventually soon backfire.

The mom and dad sit at their child's side giving love and encouragement and hope. All they want is to help and to be there, and with thier love, the struggle with helplessness and family tension boils. Emotions are ridiculous and bubbling. Thier child, sick and dying and unable to respond more than a few blinks of the eyes, sees his mom and hears his dad. But that is about it. The thoughts going through the family can not be explained.

The wife, strong as ever, doesn't let anything get in her way. She sleeps by her husbands side on the hospital rooms couch while every meal she has kept in a near by fridge gets tossed away, mistakenly, but repeatedly every day. She is taking insulin shots, and hoping more than ever she will give birth to her child on the expected day. She worries about her baby girl inside but doesn't know how to react. Scared both for her husband and for her baby. Is she hurting the baby by being by her husbands side so often all the while trying to coordinate the rest of her life including thier business, income, bills, family and friends but continuing to stay on top of every single aspect of her husbands medical care? Questions are too many, and too scary to understand. But she stays focused. She begins coming up with ground rules for family to visit for her own sanity.

Friends and other family members not sure of much of anything other than being transferred from NR to Regions start asking questions, looking for answers, and soon begin to start praying.

A boss from years ago and her son come to visit and soon realize that thier friend is worse than they thought and are even unable to visit because of the condition.

The brother tries to control a situation with news from the doctor.
The mom and dad try and do the same as well.
The wife is at her wits end and can't handle anymore. She is about to break, and feels helpless about her baby, not knowing if she will ever meet her daddy.
The brother steps in again to help the wife and tensions flare with the mom and dad.
Under stress and duress the mom, dad, and brother decide to respect the wishes of the wife and will take turns on visiting.

A month passes.  April 13, the baby is born. The daddy is still sleeping.
The son hasn't seen his daddy in weeks.

Three days later. The dad, which is me, wakes up. I don't know of anything of which I just wrote about at this point in my 'new' life. I didn't know what had happened during those first few days of ER's and uncertainty, let alone the next 6 weeks of my coma.

I have no idea of anything that has happened since March 17, and that is extremely foggy. I only remember it slightly beacause it was St. Patrick's Day and we had a little "celebration." Right around that time I remember what I thought may have been my last, gasping breath, and the most intense amount of shaking I can imagine along with pain. When I woke up it was like I was born for the 2nd time. I had no control over anything and all I could do was see. From what I understand it took me several days of  'waking up' before I could comprehend anything. Days after that I started learning a little bit here and there of what I started this post about, which was my family and the unknown stress, uncertainty, confusion and frustration within my family. My son, Ryan comes to see me and runs up to my bed but I can do little more than put my arms barely around him and smile through the medications and the pain and the fizzled body that had already taken form of me. My princess baby girl Scarlett, my true life saver, who I can also barely hold though has been at my side in my bed for naps every day. In ways hard to explain that newborn little girl saved Sarah's life and then Sarah saved mine.
My brother, his wife Michelle, my parents and obviously my wife were always there by my side. I didn't know until weeks later, but still in the hospital that they were not getting along. It was explained to me a little bit, but as much as anything I couldn't comprehend. Maybe I was too selfish, maybe I thought everyone was together and helped me fight, fight to survive.
Soon after I learned about the titantic sized love and prayers I was getting back home and around the community and all the followers I didn't even know being so supportive to me and my entire family. Through all of this, Sarah set up a Facebook page just on my progress as well as organizing other things. She also has a journal/diary of every day of the 2 month's stays between NR, Regions, UofM and Bethezda, as well as follow up appointments that still continue.

A LOT has happened since this time. Months of it I don't remember, and never will. It was an extremely difficult time for my family and I didn't even know it. Perhaps I was blinded some even before I got sick. If it was someone else instead of me and I was in that persons' seat I don't know how I would have reacted. It is difficult for me to judge or say right or wrong about any of what happened, as I see it as they all did what they felt was the best way to care for me. People deal with things differently and when it comes to family it is easily multiplied.

I made it. I don't know if I should have, but I did. Maybe time will mend, maybe wounds are too scarred for things that have happened within my small family, and maybe I could have helped prevent some of it. Maybe I'll never know. But I do know that I love all of my family, whether we are together or not.
The rest of you all I love from the bottom of my soul, wishing you the best in everything you do and to all of you - thank you, thank you, thank you.

Sometimes you just gotta write. Other need to talk. Whatever helps, do it. I write, it helps me, partially because I don't talk much, especially about feelings. I am getting better talking about this past year. So, I write until it hurts, then write until that hurt eases a pain.
I had no intention of writing this, not because I was holding anything back, but I never really thought about it in detail until I was falling asleep. It was right after Sarah mentioned something about right before Scarlettt was born. It hit a nerve so I had to grab my iPad and write away. Write I did.

I can't apologize for what happened, and I can't say anyone was wrong or right. We all did what we had to and that's the way it is.

-Cheek


Tuesday, January 13, 2015

First couple of days in

Came across a notebook the other day from the first week of me being in the hospital. Basically was a diary of sorts about what was going on by Sarah and a couple other note takers on her notebook. Sarah probably didn't want me to read this yet, as she still doesn't like going over all the things that happened.
Forgive the garbled messages here, but I'm just reading what I see, not asking questions about it tonight..
It's not much, but was the first I read of it.

(page 1)

Ampho B, Amphoteracin: AntiFungal

Oxy 5mg - Pain

Tylenol - Pain or Fever

Hydrocortizone - steroid pre Ampho

Mucinex - loosen mucus

Ibuprofen - Pain

Miralax - for stool, NO

(page 2)

Schedule at work for our employee's on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and being closed on  Sunday's thru Wednesday's.
-Casey to pull time cards and tally hours.

(page 3)

Besides finished payroll notes, nothing more than paper scratches..

(page 4)

Wednesday, 3/19/14 at 11:30. Dr. Hamm + Nurse/Prac

Didn't sugar coat 1/ET positive

Totally sedate Mike - even para/comma
      waste no energy - focus lungs

Almost Totally Lung issue (kidney fussy)
                                                      \/
                                       if needed do dialysis
 
Feed thru belly

Basically a strong - healthy young man.  (young? lol)

Ampho B + lots of antibiotics to make sure nothing else.

Barbara, Res/Mer = "he will make it"

12:30 Nurse Elaine meds to drain fluids

1:45 Dr. Hamm to increase airflow, more meds to sedate

(page 5)

Thursday, 3/20/14

9:40 AM - white blood cell up from 17-19. Normal is 4-11

Kidney function down to 1.4 !

Fever spiking :-(   =  inflammation Ampho B

85% oxygen being given

Platelets are up (normal)

Blood pressure is holding
Oxygen level is holding

-Chest xray
-Blood culture for bacteria
-Arterial lie
*Baby steps in right direction
 lowered O2 and sedation meds


This is all that was in this notebook. The other one was for the next 6+ weeks.

Sarah talks to me about any of this whenever I have questions, but doesn't like to relive it too much because it can get her emotional, and as time passes, me too as well. Dang.


-Cheek

Monday, January 12, 2015

I'm no gamer

Seems to have been awhile since I wrote about a dream from my hospital stay. So here is another one!

I was having reoccurring dreams about how I would end up in different parts of the world, usually bigger cities, but sometimes I would be found on large boats or lost in some hotel not sure where I was. I was there because I always joined some 'huge' video game tournament. Every time I joined or entered one of these tournaments I just KNEW I was going to win. Not sure why I thought this, for one because I haven't really played a video game since the original Nintendo in the early 90's. I never got into gaming or on-line play or whatever it is these kids do these days, but for whatever reason I just thought I could win and could win some big money. For two, not only did I never win in these dream competitions, I never got close, and usually would get kicked out of the tournament part way through and not asked back.
So, I would skip out of the hospital somehow and even a bigger question is how I got to these places, but I was either too sick to play any games, or I was too drunk to play, or both. Sometimes I even traveled to this cities throughout the world by somehow teleporting myself through the video game itself. Many of these games were the fighting/combat competitions (which I have another similiar story about some day) so I would need to get there and start training, I guess I needed to train/exercise to get in 'game' shape. This was ridiculous because I really couldn't move much anyway at the time but I would have to show what I could do in person to be able to enter. Sometimes I think they either felt bad for me and let me join, or they just wanted to laugh at me since I would never win. These places I would go were not exactly high dollar facilities, some of them were even in shady hotels or somebody's home and the other participants were seldom American and were usually young adult age or even late teenagers and were always men. Regardless, I would wake up the next day, usually totally 'dazed and confused' and someone would be there to pick me up, sometimes Sarah and always a family member, usually my parents. They would say something like, "Mike, you did it again, but we are here to take you back to the hospital." And I would try and put up a wimpy argument about how this was the one that I could win or some other BS story. Not to mention all the entry fees I continued to pay for. I remember telling my brother one time that if I could stay I would buy him dinner, at McDonalds, in Taiwan lol. Who knows. So I would go back, and then when I got the chance I would get out again and this would repeat itself over and over for a long time until I eventually stopped dreaming these video game, traveling dreams.

I don't know exactly what to take from this weird (as normal) dream that I was having in my time mainly at Bethezda. But, I do believe that it has something to relate to me wanting to get out although I was in no shape or condition to do so and that my family was always there for me when I got up. And like other dreams or false memories from before, the other people were probably in some relation to the medical staffs at the hospitals I stayed at because the faces were not familiar at all. Even the regular nurses were not familiar and it took about up to the last few days before I could remember any of my doctors name. So, who really knows, but they were strange dreams, very life-like and rather depressing.
Or maybe I'm just upset about fantasy football this year lol. jk

-Cheek

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Carnival Cruise

Well we had a successful cruise! Yes, it was a vacation, and yes it was a hectic time and wasn't exactly cheap BUT this really is what we needed. School starts for Sarah soon again (tomorrow) and us as a family we all are ready to get back, and begin our routine. Scarlett turns 9 months this week and we are still settling in on our home. With this trip, we scheduled it back in June when I was still pretty messed up and spent a lot of time in a wheelchair. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea because I had no idea if I would be able to enjoy myself let alone feel my feet or walk on my own as well as how much medicine I would be taking and bringing. I used my cane quite often and needed it probably more often.

This trip was a celebration. It was a celebration of Sarah and my survival of a tumultuous year, and the ringing in of a new year. With Thanksgiving, Christmas, Chicago train trip with the kids, New Years, all while moving homes, we found time to fulfill our pre-planned vacation to take a Carribean Cruise. While we are now home and I, personally am tired and sore, it was an amazing trip and something we will always remember.

Some people may not understand how or why we could take this vacation with so many other things going on in our life, including us not having paying jobs at this point. Well, like I mentioned, this was planned and paid for in advance while we still had the bar, before several things falling out of place with our business. We always had to take time off of work if we wanted to travel anywhere, and we didn't have to this time. Our Chicago trip was our own Christmas gift for the 4 of us as we didn't do much for gifts under the tree this year. Ryan understood and Scarlett pooped, so they were content with the other Christmases they went to. Santa still came! We have plans in the near future to help out with our bills, including jobs and several projects that we hope to finish this year.

I just wanted to share this quick because of any who thought - how the heck can they be taking all these vacations!?! Now we know :)

Take care, God bless and thank you!

-Cheek


P.S. AND GO PACK GO!!!

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Lately on my brain

No dreams or weird stories to write here today. But something has been on my mind for awhile, basically since This one is tough for me to write about but it has been on my mind quite a bit lately so I needed to get it off my chest. The doctors tell me I have PTSD, or at least that I had it, and would have it, and didn't really know for how long. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has several definitions and causes behind it. I don't like to think of me having this as I really always felt it was for those brave men and women in the military, or for those who witnessed or experienced something else (worse than mine) that was terrifying. As I woke up, I didn't really think I 'witnessed' anything, and with my experience I didn't know much about and am still learning things about it. It was maybe two weeks before I even saw a picture of myself or looked in a mirror, which was interesting to say the least.  The doctors gave me tons of medications, and lots of them were to prevent me from remembering what was happening at the time because they said it would have probably driven me bonkers. Drugs to knock me out, drugs to keep me out, drugs for this and that which I have listed before. So, I guess my dreams and false memories and other experiences have been my body's way of coping. Is this better? I am not sure, I suppose so, they are the doctors and know best. I am not trying to downplay what happened to me but I guess I wish there was another term for my situation. I'm not trying to sound selfish or anything like I need a new medical name coined for my experience, it's just that I feel uncomfortable when I am told I have PTSD.

I just finished reading the book Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand which had a lot to do with post WWII trauma's with POW's. Maybe this wasn't the best time for me to read the book. But I wanted to before I see the movie. I enjoy history and knew a fair share about this war but it was a good book to read and learned some things as well. I was sick in a hospital with pneumonia. I had blastomycosis. I lived and nearly died (completely) from it. I said this is tough to talk about because I don't feel like my experience is comparable as to those individuals who struggle with this for what I consider 'better' reasons than my own. Sometimes things will trigger something that I normally can't explain why that is. Whether a sound at the hospital that reminds me of sleeping in and out of memory or something on TV that makes me uncomfortable because I usually can't figure out why. Doctors have continued to ask me if I want to speak to others about what I have gone through, but for one I think I am dealing pretty well with things, and for two I don't want them to prescribe me to anything else as I'm getting annoyed with taking my drugs, needed or not.

Depression. Perhaps I am somewhat in denial, but I don't consider myself depressed, or really that I was or have been. They say that PTSD and depression can go side by side, so I have been prescribed different anti-depressants recently but I think they messed with me more than they should have. My symptoms were more physical than mental and I even gained weight, which was easier over the holidays, but nothing made me feel any better. I stopped taking them.

Ok, I feel a little better now that I have talked a little about this.
Thanks for listening!

-Cheek




Thursday, January 1, 2015

Guest Blogger: The Truth About 2014

2014: Started out great. I was 6 months into a fairly easy pregnancy with our baby girl. In February we celebrated our 1 year anniversary at the bar. We had great employees and wonderful customers. Without both, we couldn't have been as successful as we were.

Then in the beginning of March, Mike got sick. He fought for his life for nearly 6 weeks on life support. He is so strong! During that time, I spent every single day with him at the hospital. I needed to be there to make decisions about his health as things were getting worse so quickly. I was so scared I would lose my husband. I had no idea if Ryan would ever see his daddy again or if Scarlett would ever get to meet him.

While spending so much time with Mike at the hospital(s), I couldn't be at the bar. Our employees stepped up and did absolutely everything they could to run and protect our bar. I just couldn't be there enough, we closed for several days a week.

Then.......this miracle, this god send walked into our lives. He said: "I want to help!" His attorney drew up a legal contract and it was reviewed by our attorney and signed by all parties. What a relief! This angel was going to take care of our bar until Mike and I could get back to it. Scarlett was born and Mike was starting to get better. We see the light at the end of the tunnel. Our bar was under complete control of this god send. At first it seemed great, then we start noticing several discrepancies in his actions. We got several complaints from customers and vendors on how poorly and downright abusive he was toward them. We were so confused and hurt. Mike got home and we had an amazing benefit with so many wonderful supporters. A few weeks later, we went to the bar. We noticed many many things missing and our regulars would no longer step foot in our bar. We were also notified that our business bank account had been drained. When that discovery was made, this angel up and quit (in violation of our contract.) "His personal divorce was just too much." We were left a business that was broken and destroyed. We did what we could to try and repair it, but with Mike not being able to work and no money left, we decided to close instead of put ourselves in more debt.

We ended up moving into Mike's parents basement. I had started school in August and Mike couldn't drive. We needed the help from his parents. We are grateful that we had a place for our family of four to go, but it was so difficult. It just wasn't working anymore. We had to get out.
We moved out 8 days before Christmas. We have our own place and are now able to start the recovery and repair of our family.

This has by far been the most difficult and painful year of my life. We have had a few blessings in 2014 and that's what keeps us going when we want to so badly give up. We have lots of hurdles and fears to get through in the future but, 2015 couldn't come at a better time! Here's to a great year full of change, adventure and family.

-Mrs. Cheek Moore