So today my Hubby left at 5:30 am. He'll be out of town for 3 days. Every year he goes to a Ranger Rendezvous. It's kind of like continuing education for Rangers. They have classes and discuss new standards that were put out by The National Organization for everything from water safety to building standards. His job is actually alot more complicated than people think. And once again, he's teaching a welding class. That's what he did before this job, he was a welder in a factory.
He and the Ranger from the other Boy Scout Camp this council owns head off together every year. Sometimes to a Rendezvous in Wisconsin, sometimes to one near Kansas City. I look forward to this time every year with equal parts anticipation and dread. Anticipation because it gives him a chance to get away, talk to other guys about the frustrations of his job and have them really understand. He comes back with new ideas and new enthusiasm. And the kids and I enjoy the time because we can eat things he doesn't like. And the man is one picky ass eater. The kids pitch in more willingly around the house when he's not home and I get our bed all to myself.
I dread it because something always seems to go wrong. Last year it was the dishwasher. I got up the second morning after he'd left and the kitchen was full of water. After several long distance calls and both Sean and I practically climbing into the dishwasher, we gave up and washed dishes by hand til he got home. Turns out the lime stuff he told me to put through it to clean it, ate a lot of the plastic coating and clogged the drain. Awesome. The year before that I had to take his truck into camp and unlock some doors for some people who were doing some work the next day. The truck got a flat. Luckily, I made it to the parking lot and parked it. Sean and I walked a mile home in the pitch dark. Can we say spooky?? Especially since Sean kept bringing up horror movies we'd seen. The year before that? I was actually hospitalized with pneumonia the week he was gone. Thankfully, my mom had already planned to come that week. Since neither of the kids had drivers licenses at the time, she was a lifesaver.
So this week, I'm waiting for the catastrophe. I'm ready universe, bring. it. on. Unless it comes in the form of 8 or more inches of snow. Then I'm pretty much screwed. I don't know how to plow snow. But at least the pantry's stocked. And there's plenty of firewood. We could wait it out. I think...
♥Spot
PS. In case of a Zombie Apocalypse (don't be laughing, it is an ever present danger) we are also probably screwed. While all of us can shoot, he really is the best shot. He's like a ninja sniper. It's definitely one of the reasons I stay married to him. Mad ninja sniper skillz.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Oh happy day!! You're a medical oddity...
So today is National Rare Disease Day. That's right. You're welcome. I bet you didn't even know. And who wants to pass up a celebration?? I learned this on the ITP website. For those of you who don't know...Lu has ITP. Which is idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura. Yeah, say that three times fast. I dare you. This is a rare disease, therefore, today is her day.
I remembered this last night~
Me: Hey. You have to be nice to Lu tomorrow.
Sean: Why?
Me: Because it's National Rare Disease Day and she has ITP.
Sean: And?
Me: And what? It's not enough that your sister has a rare disease and has to see a Hematologist every couple of weeks? It's not enough that she almost bled to death from getting a tattoo?
Sean: I think you might be exaggerating again.
Me: Maybe. But just a little. Anyway, she does have a rare disease and she does have to take icky medicine and spend alot of time at the doctor's office. And be careful about drinking and stuff. So you could at least not make fun of her for one day.
Sean: I'll think about it. No promises.
Me: Do you think I should make her a card?
Sean: That says what? "I'm sorry you have a rare disease. Guess my genes suck?"
Me: Um. No. I was thinking more along the lines of "Congratulations!" and when you open it up it says "You're a Freak!! Enjoy your day!"
*Insert hysterical giggling on our parts*
Sean: I think you should probably not bank on a career with Hallmark.
Me: Maybe I'll skip the card. Do you think I can convince her that cake I baked for desert tonight was actually for her for tomorrow??
Sean: Sure. Who doesn't love to learn that a half eaten cake was actually meant for them?
Me: Huh. Maybe I'll just make her bed for her. Or do her laundry.
Sean: You always do her laundry.
Me: Yeah. Well that settles it...she's getting a hug.
And yes I'm joking. But then what's new? ITP is serious. We have an appointment at Children's in St. Louis next Thursday for a second opinion. Her doctor here wants to take her spleen out. I think removing an organ at eighteen is a little drastic. Especially when the odds are only 50-60% that it will even help the problem. And then there's the chance that even if it does work initially, the problem will return in two years. And you're immuno-compromised forever.
Last year in January, I had the Lumbar Puncture from hell in Springfield and Lu came up to visit me at my parents house and drive me back home (after a week of laying flat on my back and finally a blood patch). One morning while we were there she showed me these funny red dots all over her legs. They looked like tiny red pinpricks. They were odd, but really they weren't bothering her so we pretty much ignored them. In February she decided she wanted a tattoo. I went with her to sign papers and hold her hand. As the tattoo artist was working he remarked that she was bleeding more than was normal. Indeed, the tattoo welled up with blood droplets and he had to keep cleaning it off. He suggested we talk to a doctor. A week later we realized that her tattoo wasn't healing right and she had the red dots on her wrists as well. She was really tired and covered in bruises. Now if it seems like I'm a bad mom and didn't really take this seriously...in my defense I was going through some medical problems myself and dealing with the final diagnosis. Also, Lu had probably been one of the most tired people I know for about the last two years. She'd seen the doctor several times and been told it was probably a virus.
But off to the Internet I went. Then off to the ER we went. I learned on the Internet that the red dots were actually petechiae and they were bad. They meant that her platelets were low and the blood vessels were actually breaking and leaking. The petechiae could turn into pupurae, which are larger and purple as the blood collects beneath the skin. As soon as we got to the ER and explained, the doctor drew blood and we waited for results. Lu, of course, went to sleep. I waited anxiously and berated myself for not taking things more seriously. The results came back. Her platelet count was 14,000. Normal is 150,000 to 300,000. Under 70,000 the risk of bleeding is so great that they won't perform surgeries. Under 10,000 requires a transfusion. Also, her hemoglobin was only 4. Normal is 12 - 16 for women. They didn't do much at the ER except give us an information sheet and set up an appointment with the Hematologist for the very next day. At least I had something to research. She'd had all the symptoms (she was pale, tired all the time, cold all the time, headachey, dizzy, and occasionally weak) for at least a year but unfortunately the doctors hadn't done the bloodwork that would have given us an answer. It still amazes me that it took so long to realize this is what was going on, but Lu had been sickly since 8th grade and I guess with so many problems, it's easy to overlook the most obvious and simple test.
The hematologist put her on massive doses of steroids, which is the usual line of first defense. The problem is, that for some unknown (hence the word idiopathic) reason her body destroys it's own platelets. The steroids reduce the bodies ability to make antibodies against itself. Unfortunately, they reduce the bodies ability to make antibodies at all. That and the side effects: hair loss, weight gain, moon-face, mood swings, ect. make steroids unpleasant to be on for long periods of time. As her platelet counts went up, they began to taper back the steroids. Unfortunately, she had a relapse and had to taken back up in dosage. She also has to take huge iron pills twice a day to keep her hemoglobin up.
Currently, she's off the steroids, but her platelets are again dropping. Last count was 130,000. With her doctor only offering the splenectomy as an option, we decided to get another opinion. There are other treatments. All of them have side effects, all of them have risks. Unfortunately, Lu is in those "childbearing" years so that has to be taken into consideration. They don't want to hurt her chances of conceiving or carrying babies full term or causing birth defects. Because of the chance of her platelets crashing, all of her pregnancies and recoveries will already be "high risk".
So while it's not necessarily "life threatening" on a daily basis, without proper monitoring of her blood work and some kind of treatment, it can get "life threatening" quickly. Lu doesn't like to think about it, much less talk about it. She's still having a hard time accepting that it's a lifelong issue. The hippie asks questions alot. He's taken her in for blood work. He now knows what to keep an eye out for and he makes sure she remembers her meds. Since she'll be living with him next year and not me, this eases my mind considerably. Definite points in his favor.
Fingers crossed for good counts next Thursday and a more acceptable treatment.
♥Spot
***There are also new posts up at The Gert & Hildi Chronicles and What Spot Saw. Don't miss a minute of my totally awesome life...check them out. =]
I remembered this last night~
Me: Hey. You have to be nice to Lu tomorrow.
Sean: Why?
Me: Because it's National Rare Disease Day and she has ITP.
Sean: And?
Me: And what? It's not enough that your sister has a rare disease and has to see a Hematologist every couple of weeks? It's not enough that she almost bled to death from getting a tattoo?
Sean: I think you might be exaggerating again.
Me: Maybe. But just a little. Anyway, she does have a rare disease and she does have to take icky medicine and spend alot of time at the doctor's office. And be careful about drinking and stuff. So you could at least not make fun of her for one day.
Sean: I'll think about it. No promises.
Me: Do you think I should make her a card?
Sean: That says what? "I'm sorry you have a rare disease. Guess my genes suck?"
Me: Um. No. I was thinking more along the lines of "Congratulations!" and when you open it up it says "You're a Freak!! Enjoy your day!"
*Insert hysterical giggling on our parts*
Sean: I think you should probably not bank on a career with Hallmark.
Me: Maybe I'll skip the card. Do you think I can convince her that cake I baked for desert tonight was actually for her for tomorrow??
Sean: Sure. Who doesn't love to learn that a half eaten cake was actually meant for them?
Me: Huh. Maybe I'll just make her bed for her. Or do her laundry.
Sean: You always do her laundry.
Me: Yeah. Well that settles it...she's getting a hug.
And yes I'm joking. But then what's new? ITP is serious. We have an appointment at Children's in St. Louis next Thursday for a second opinion. Her doctor here wants to take her spleen out. I think removing an organ at eighteen is a little drastic. Especially when the odds are only 50-60% that it will even help the problem. And then there's the chance that even if it does work initially, the problem will return in two years. And you're immuno-compromised forever.
Last year in January, I had the Lumbar Puncture from hell in Springfield and Lu came up to visit me at my parents house and drive me back home (after a week of laying flat on my back and finally a blood patch). One morning while we were there she showed me these funny red dots all over her legs. They looked like tiny red pinpricks. They were odd, but really they weren't bothering her so we pretty much ignored them. In February she decided she wanted a tattoo. I went with her to sign papers and hold her hand. As the tattoo artist was working he remarked that she was bleeding more than was normal. Indeed, the tattoo welled up with blood droplets and he had to keep cleaning it off. He suggested we talk to a doctor. A week later we realized that her tattoo wasn't healing right and she had the red dots on her wrists as well. She was really tired and covered in bruises. Now if it seems like I'm a bad mom and didn't really take this seriously...in my defense I was going through some medical problems myself and dealing with the final diagnosis. Also, Lu had probably been one of the most tired people I know for about the last two years. She'd seen the doctor several times and been told it was probably a virus.
But off to the Internet I went. Then off to the ER we went. I learned on the Internet that the red dots were actually petechiae and they were bad. They meant that her platelets were low and the blood vessels were actually breaking and leaking. The petechiae could turn into pupurae, which are larger and purple as the blood collects beneath the skin. As soon as we got to the ER and explained, the doctor drew blood and we waited for results. Lu, of course, went to sleep. I waited anxiously and berated myself for not taking things more seriously. The results came back. Her platelet count was 14,000. Normal is 150,000 to 300,000. Under 70,000 the risk of bleeding is so great that they won't perform surgeries. Under 10,000 requires a transfusion. Also, her hemoglobin was only 4. Normal is 12 - 16 for women. They didn't do much at the ER except give us an information sheet and set up an appointment with the Hematologist for the very next day. At least I had something to research. She'd had all the symptoms (she was pale, tired all the time, cold all the time, headachey, dizzy, and occasionally weak) for at least a year but unfortunately the doctors hadn't done the bloodwork that would have given us an answer. It still amazes me that it took so long to realize this is what was going on, but Lu had been sickly since 8th grade and I guess with so many problems, it's easy to overlook the most obvious and simple test.
The hematologist put her on massive doses of steroids, which is the usual line of first defense. The problem is, that for some unknown (hence the word idiopathic) reason her body destroys it's own platelets. The steroids reduce the bodies ability to make antibodies against itself. Unfortunately, they reduce the bodies ability to make antibodies at all. That and the side effects: hair loss, weight gain, moon-face, mood swings, ect. make steroids unpleasant to be on for long periods of time. As her platelet counts went up, they began to taper back the steroids. Unfortunately, she had a relapse and had to taken back up in dosage. She also has to take huge iron pills twice a day to keep her hemoglobin up.
Currently, she's off the steroids, but her platelets are again dropping. Last count was 130,000. With her doctor only offering the splenectomy as an option, we decided to get another opinion. There are other treatments. All of them have side effects, all of them have risks. Unfortunately, Lu is in those "childbearing" years so that has to be taken into consideration. They don't want to hurt her chances of conceiving or carrying babies full term or causing birth defects. Because of the chance of her platelets crashing, all of her pregnancies and recoveries will already be "high risk".
So while it's not necessarily "life threatening" on a daily basis, without proper monitoring of her blood work and some kind of treatment, it can get "life threatening" quickly. Lu doesn't like to think about it, much less talk about it. She's still having a hard time accepting that it's a lifelong issue. The hippie asks questions alot. He's taken her in for blood work. He now knows what to keep an eye out for and he makes sure she remembers her meds. Since she'll be living with him next year and not me, this eases my mind considerably. Definite points in his favor.
Fingers crossed for good counts next Thursday and a more acceptable treatment.
♥Spot
***There are also new posts up at The Gert & Hildi Chronicles and What Spot Saw. Don't miss a minute of my totally awesome life...check them out. =]
Saturday, February 27, 2010
And then she said...
So, I've been absent a few days and I'm so far behind in my blog reading/commenting. You guys should maybe stop being so prolific. I mean, if I skip a day even, I get behind. The other day I was even contemplating giving up an hour of sleep in order to catch up. And if you knew how much I love my sleep, you'd realize that this is crazy talk!! So stop blogging while I'm sleeping, it makes me feel lazy.
So I got the results of the gall bladder glowing x-ray. No, they didn't call me, I had to call them. The other nurse (the one who actually knows her shit) said the test came back normal. The doctor was out this week so no idea what the next move is. I told her I've been doing okay lately so I'll just let them know if anything gets worse. My bruise is till pretty. Although its not purple anymore, just browns, yellow and gray.
We got CJ on Wednesday and then took him back yesterday. We had an awesome visit and I will update you later with pictures. But today I'm exhausted. I stayed up way too late finishing the fabulous new Joe Hill book. And all the busy this week is catching up with me. So today I'm just going to give you some convos that I have rattling around in my head from these last few weeks. If they're as funny as they were to us at the time, you may want to set your drink down...
Driving to pick up some food in Myrtle Beach after shopping all day~
Lu: I'm really thirsty!
Sean: Me too.
Me: I know right?! I'd kill for a fountain coke (my weakness) right about now.
Lu: Why do people say that? I'd kill for something. I mean, would you? Really?
Me: Um. Yeah. I think I would kill for a Coke right now. I mean, not someone I liked. But someone I didn't like. Like J** E***? I'd totally take him down for a fountain Coke right now.
Sean: You scare me.
Lu: I get you. I guess there's totally people I'd take out for a Coke right now.
The other morning, right after I got up and stumbled in to get a cup of coffee, as I passed through the living room on my way to the family room~
Sean: So I guess the faggots only killed black cats.
Me: (completely appalled at his use of the word "faggots" and also completely confused as to what he's talking about) What?!
Sean: (a little slower) The faggots only killed black cats.
Me: Why would faggots kill cats?
Sean: What faggots?
Me: Exactly?!!
Sean: Omigod! I said the VATICAN only kills black cats.
Me: Oh. Well that's not what it sounded like. But that does make more sense. How do you know?
Sean: I watched a program on history channel last night.
Me: Oh. Huh. (and I walked off).
After dinner the other night, as we're clearing up and talking about getting our vehicles fixed~
Lu: well Porky needs to look at my car. I really need that new blower motor because I don't think mine's working at all. I drove the whole way to work this morning and the car never heated up.
Me: Really? It was cold in there the whole time? Because it was making noise when I borrowed your car, but the heat seemed to be working.
Lu: Well the temperature thing never did get all the way to where it usually does.
Hubby: (with a slightly perplexed look that was mirrored by Sean and I) what temperature thing honey?
Lu: You know! The one that says "H" and "C" and has the little read needle. When my car is warm it's usually between the "H" and the "C", but today it barely got above the "C".
Hubby: (desperately trying not to laugh) Honey, that gauge measures the temperature of your engine, not the inside of your car. It was extremely cold this morning so your engine never warmed up all the way. That has nothing to do with your heater or blower motor.
By now, Sean and I are convulsing with laughter and Hubby loses it too.
Lu: STOP making fun of me!! It's not that funny!
But it really was. She was so mad she went to her room and slammed her door. All night long the rest of us could barely look at each other without laughing again. But because I'm a good mom, I did go talk her out of her sulk. But?? Buahahahaha.
Hope everyone is having a good weekend. I fully intend too!!
♥Spot
So I got the results of the gall bladder glowing x-ray. No, they didn't call me, I had to call them. The other nurse (the one who actually knows her shit) said the test came back normal. The doctor was out this week so no idea what the next move is. I told her I've been doing okay lately so I'll just let them know if anything gets worse. My bruise is till pretty. Although its not purple anymore, just browns, yellow and gray.
We got CJ on Wednesday and then took him back yesterday. We had an awesome visit and I will update you later with pictures. But today I'm exhausted. I stayed up way too late finishing the fabulous new Joe Hill book. And all the busy this week is catching up with me. So today I'm just going to give you some convos that I have rattling around in my head from these last few weeks. If they're as funny as they were to us at the time, you may want to set your drink down...
Driving to pick up some food in Myrtle Beach after shopping all day~
Lu: I'm really thirsty!
Sean: Me too.
Me: I know right?! I'd kill for a fountain coke (my weakness) right about now.
Lu: Why do people say that? I'd kill for something. I mean, would you? Really?
Me: Um. Yeah. I think I would kill for a Coke right now. I mean, not someone I liked. But someone I didn't like. Like J** E***? I'd totally take him down for a fountain Coke right now.
Sean: You scare me.
Lu: I get you. I guess there's totally people I'd take out for a Coke right now.
The other morning, right after I got up and stumbled in to get a cup of coffee, as I passed through the living room on my way to the family room~
Sean: So I guess the faggots only killed black cats.
Me: (completely appalled at his use of the word "faggots" and also completely confused as to what he's talking about) What?!
Sean: (a little slower) The faggots only killed black cats.
Me: Why would faggots kill cats?
Sean: What faggots?
Me: Exactly?!!
Sean: Omigod! I said the VATICAN only kills black cats.
Me: Oh. Well that's not what it sounded like. But that does make more sense. How do you know?
Sean: I watched a program on history channel last night.
Me: Oh. Huh. (and I walked off).
After dinner the other night, as we're clearing up and talking about getting our vehicles fixed~
Lu: well Porky needs to look at my car. I really need that new blower motor because I don't think mine's working at all. I drove the whole way to work this morning and the car never heated up.
Me: Really? It was cold in there the whole time? Because it was making noise when I borrowed your car, but the heat seemed to be working.
Lu: Well the temperature thing never did get all the way to where it usually does.
Hubby: (with a slightly perplexed look that was mirrored by Sean and I) what temperature thing honey?
Lu: You know! The one that says "H" and "C" and has the little read needle. When my car is warm it's usually between the "H" and the "C", but today it barely got above the "C".
Hubby: (desperately trying not to laugh) Honey, that gauge measures the temperature of your engine, not the inside of your car. It was extremely cold this morning so your engine never warmed up all the way. That has nothing to do with your heater or blower motor.
By now, Sean and I are convulsing with laughter and Hubby loses it too.
Lu: STOP making fun of me!! It's not that funny!
But it really was. She was so mad she went to her room and slammed her door. All night long the rest of us could barely look at each other without laughing again. But because I'm a good mom, I did go talk her out of her sulk. But?? Buahahahaha.
Hope everyone is having a good weekend. I fully intend too!!
♥Spot
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
So I'm pretty sure aliens stole my gallbladder...
The week before I went on vacation I had two tests done...a brain MRI for the headaches I was having. My doctor said it might be an aneurysm. Really? Who picks that as the first choice?? Give him a choice between a horse and a zebra and this doctor always picks the zebra. But he has been right a majority of the time so I go along.
The other test was a gallbladder ultrasound. I've been having some stomach trouble for a couple of months now and he's convinced it's my gallbladder. I don't care anymore, I just want it to stop. I really really like to cook and eat and I don't like feeling horrible after I do. He said if the ultrasound came back negative, he wanted to do a fluoroscopy. Mmmmk. So I had my tests and I went on vacation. And I forgot to call and get the results. I figured if it was anything serious, they'd call me. So last week, after getting back and settling in I called the Doctor's office. And it went like this~
Me~ Hi *nurse*, it's *me*, I had a brain MRI and a gallbladder ultrasound two weeks ago and I was just calling for the results because I haven't heard anything.
Nurse~ um. OK. when did you have those?
Me~ February 4th.
Nurse~ okay. Let me see here. Give me a minute. Can you hold?
Me~ sure. (I'm smart enough to use the 800 number when I call so it's free.) Lalalalalala. (insert some humming, some talking to Sean)
Nurse~ okay. I have them. I'm looking at the MRI. Did you have an appointment to discuss these results with him?
Me~ um. no. that's why I'm calling to get them. (Duh?)
Nurse~ oh. well. I'm going to have to call you back.
Me~ um. ok.
I hang up and pretty much begin freaking out. Why does she have to call me back. What's up with that MRI. Do I really have an aneurysm?? Have I been walking around with a ticking time bomb in my head for two weeks??! Why didn't they call me?!
The nurse calls back~
Nurse~ Okay, I talked to the doctor and the results of both the brain MRI and the gallbladder ultrasound are normal.
Me~ (WTF?!! You had to talk to the doctor to tell me that?! I worried for 20 minutes that my head might explode because you couldn't tell me it was fine??!) Um. Ok.
Nurse~ So is there anything else?
Me~ Well he said if the gallbladder thing was normal he wanted to do some radioactive xray.
Nurse~ huh. Well I'll have to talk to him and call you back.
Me~ Of course you will. Ok.
I'm a little perturbed. Really? Is it that hard to get all your eggs in one basket before you call the patient? Aren't all my records on the computer anyway? And why didn't they send me the "your tests were all normal" letter in the first place?? She calls back~
Nurse~ Okay. I have to call the hospital to set this up, can you hold while I have them on the other line?
Me~ sure. (She clicks over. I stare at the walls.)
Nurse~ oh hey, do you still have your gallbladder?
Me~ (omigod. Did she just for real ask me that?? Seriously? She just gave me the results of my gallbladder ultrasound ten minutes ago. This whole test is for your gallbladder. WTF?) um. pretty sure that's why we're doing this test...
Nurse~ okay. (she clicks back over)
Me~ (to Sean) Dude!! She for real just asked if I still had my gallbladder!
Sean~ No way! She just gave you the results of your gallbladder test!
Me~ I know right??! This is not instilling confidence in me.
Nurse~ Okay, so we set it up for next Tuesday morning at 8am. I'm going to give you the list of instructions, so write it down.
Me~ okay. (I'm so not writing this down)
Nurse~ you can't have anything to eat or drink 6 hours before.
Me~ no snacks after 2am. got it.
Nurse~ bring a list of all your current meds.
Me~ uh huh.
Nurse~ you can't have any retained barium...
Me~ (the hell is that?? waiting for her to continue. Long silence...) Are you still there?
Nurse~ yes. I was waiting for you to say okay.
Me~ I don't even know what that is.
Nurse~ Like if you'd had a barium xray the day before or anything.
Me~ (wouldn't you have been the one to schedule that?? Is that even an issue??) Mmmm...okay. No barium for breakfast. Got it.
Nurse~ No Demerol, nubain, or morphine for five hours before. I don't think you're on any of that...
Me~ um no. Pretty sure those are mostly pain shots given at the hospital...
Then she makes me repeat the list back to her. Which I can do perfectly because it's sooo bizarre!! The whole conversation has been bizarre. I'm wondering if she's on medication.
So today was the fluoroscopy. I got there at 8am. They called me back and I hopped up on one of those flat metal xray tables. The tech started and IV and explained that they would be giving me an injection of radioactive isotopes. These would show up on the camera. First they'd highlight my liver, then drain into the gallbladder and small bowel. There were a series of pictures every five minutes for the first hour. Then they would start an IV of meds that would cause the gallbladder to contract and empty the isotopes completely into the small bowel. That would take continuous pictures for thirty minutes. I began to wonder what I got myself into.
She gave me the injection and I felt nothing. I watched the lights coalesce on the screen. She pointed out my liver. Then she pointed out the small bowel. The gallbladder was taking it's time getting to the party. After about twenty minutes she asked~
Tech~ Do you still have your gallbladder?
Me~ (omg. for real?? Did another person just ask me that??! Why the hell would I be here if I didn't?!) Um. Yeah. Unless the aliens stole it.
She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. But seriously, if one more person asks me that, somebody's getting decked. I just have to wonder if there are actually people who've scheduled this test and didn't have a gallbladder??! Finally my uncooperative gallbladder showed up to the party. But not as well as they wanted so I had to roll on my right side so hopefully the isotopes would drain into it. She left for fifteen minutes. I dozed off. She scared the shit out of me when she woke me up.
At last we got to the second part. She warned me that some people said the meds made their gallbladder hurt. Just to try to lay still. By this time, I couldn't move anyway. My hip joints and back don't take kindly to two hours on a metal table. It didn't hurt, but it did make me pretty nauseous. My gallbladder continued to glow. Now that it had the stuff, it seemed reluctant to give it up. Way to go gallbladder. You keep the glowing stuff all to yourself. Selfish bastard.
Finally we were done. Apparently my doctor's office will call me with the results. Yeah, right. I'll hold my breath. My body protested the journey off the table. I was stiff and sore, I'm sure I looked like a little old lady hobbling along. The tech took the IV port out and had some trouble with the bleeding. Apparently, my blood was thin today. She bandaged it and let me put my sweatshirt back on and leave. As I walked out, I could feel blood dribbling down my arm so I hightailed it to the nearest bathroom. Sure enough it was a mess. Quite possibly that sweatshirt is ruined forever. I got it stopped, got cleaned up and hit the grocery store before heading home. Guess we'll see what the results are. I'd like it to be something simple like the gallbladder. But remember my intense fear of surgery. ANY surgery. And how I never heal right?? Maybe, I can just stop eating. Then I'd lose weight. That's a win/win right? So, just to prove all this really happened...here's a photo of the amazing bruise the IV left on my arm. I'm sure tomorrow the colors will be even better. Lol.
And thank you to everyone for the amazing outpouring of support and friendship and love yesterday. You have no idea how much it means to me. I feel so blessed. I wasn't feeling so hot after the test today so Sean and I are going up to get CJ tomorrow. I can't wait.
♥Spot
The other test was a gallbladder ultrasound. I've been having some stomach trouble for a couple of months now and he's convinced it's my gallbladder. I don't care anymore, I just want it to stop. I really really like to cook and eat and I don't like feeling horrible after I do. He said if the ultrasound came back negative, he wanted to do a fluoroscopy. Mmmmk. So I had my tests and I went on vacation. And I forgot to call and get the results. I figured if it was anything serious, they'd call me. So last week, after getting back and settling in I called the Doctor's office. And it went like this~
Me~ Hi *nurse*, it's *me*, I had a brain MRI and a gallbladder ultrasound two weeks ago and I was just calling for the results because I haven't heard anything.
Nurse~ um. OK. when did you have those?
Me~ February 4th.
Nurse~ okay. Let me see here. Give me a minute. Can you hold?
Me~ sure. (I'm smart enough to use the 800 number when I call so it's free.) Lalalalalala. (insert some humming, some talking to Sean)
Nurse~ okay. I have them. I'm looking at the MRI. Did you have an appointment to discuss these results with him?
Me~ um. no. that's why I'm calling to get them. (Duh?)
Nurse~ oh. well. I'm going to have to call you back.
Me~ um. ok.
I hang up and pretty much begin freaking out. Why does she have to call me back. What's up with that MRI. Do I really have an aneurysm?? Have I been walking around with a ticking time bomb in my head for two weeks??! Why didn't they call me?!
The nurse calls back~
Nurse~ Okay, I talked to the doctor and the results of both the brain MRI and the gallbladder ultrasound are normal.
Me~ (WTF?!! You had to talk to the doctor to tell me that?! I worried for 20 minutes that my head might explode because you couldn't tell me it was fine??!) Um. Ok.
Nurse~ So is there anything else?
Me~ Well he said if the gallbladder thing was normal he wanted to do some radioactive xray.
Nurse~ huh. Well I'll have to talk to him and call you back.
Me~ Of course you will. Ok.
I'm a little perturbed. Really? Is it that hard to get all your eggs in one basket before you call the patient? Aren't all my records on the computer anyway? And why didn't they send me the "your tests were all normal" letter in the first place?? She calls back~
Nurse~ Okay. I have to call the hospital to set this up, can you hold while I have them on the other line?
Me~ sure. (She clicks over. I stare at the walls.)
Nurse~ oh hey, do you still have your gallbladder?
Me~ (omigod. Did she just for real ask me that?? Seriously? She just gave me the results of my gallbladder ultrasound ten minutes ago. This whole test is for your gallbladder. WTF?) um. pretty sure that's why we're doing this test...
Nurse~ okay. (she clicks back over)
Me~ (to Sean) Dude!! She for real just asked if I still had my gallbladder!
Sean~ No way! She just gave you the results of your gallbladder test!
Me~ I know right??! This is not instilling confidence in me.
Nurse~ Okay, so we set it up for next Tuesday morning at 8am. I'm going to give you the list of instructions, so write it down.
Me~ okay. (I'm so not writing this down)
Nurse~ you can't have anything to eat or drink 6 hours before.
Me~ no snacks after 2am. got it.
Nurse~ bring a list of all your current meds.
Me~ uh huh.
Nurse~ you can't have any retained barium...
Me~ (the hell is that?? waiting for her to continue. Long silence...) Are you still there?
Nurse~ yes. I was waiting for you to say okay.
Me~ I don't even know what that is.
Nurse~ Like if you'd had a barium xray the day before or anything.
Me~ (wouldn't you have been the one to schedule that?? Is that even an issue??) Mmmm...okay. No barium for breakfast. Got it.
Nurse~ No Demerol, nubain, or morphine for five hours before. I don't think you're on any of that...
Me~ um no. Pretty sure those are mostly pain shots given at the hospital...
Then she makes me repeat the list back to her. Which I can do perfectly because it's sooo bizarre!! The whole conversation has been bizarre. I'm wondering if she's on medication.
So today was the fluoroscopy. I got there at 8am. They called me back and I hopped up on one of those flat metal xray tables. The tech started and IV and explained that they would be giving me an injection of radioactive isotopes. These would show up on the camera. First they'd highlight my liver, then drain into the gallbladder and small bowel. There were a series of pictures every five minutes for the first hour. Then they would start an IV of meds that would cause the gallbladder to contract and empty the isotopes completely into the small bowel. That would take continuous pictures for thirty minutes. I began to wonder what I got myself into.
She gave me the injection and I felt nothing. I watched the lights coalesce on the screen. She pointed out my liver. Then she pointed out the small bowel. The gallbladder was taking it's time getting to the party. After about twenty minutes she asked~
Tech~ Do you still have your gallbladder?
Me~ (omg. for real?? Did another person just ask me that??! Why the hell would I be here if I didn't?!) Um. Yeah. Unless the aliens stole it.
She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. But seriously, if one more person asks me that, somebody's getting decked. I just have to wonder if there are actually people who've scheduled this test and didn't have a gallbladder??! Finally my uncooperative gallbladder showed up to the party. But not as well as they wanted so I had to roll on my right side so hopefully the isotopes would drain into it. She left for fifteen minutes. I dozed off. She scared the shit out of me when she woke me up.
At last we got to the second part. She warned me that some people said the meds made their gallbladder hurt. Just to try to lay still. By this time, I couldn't move anyway. My hip joints and back don't take kindly to two hours on a metal table. It didn't hurt, but it did make me pretty nauseous. My gallbladder continued to glow. Now that it had the stuff, it seemed reluctant to give it up. Way to go gallbladder. You keep the glowing stuff all to yourself. Selfish bastard.
Finally we were done. Apparently my doctor's office will call me with the results. Yeah, right. I'll hold my breath. My body protested the journey off the table. I was stiff and sore, I'm sure I looked like a little old lady hobbling along. The tech took the IV port out and had some trouble with the bleeding. Apparently, my blood was thin today. She bandaged it and let me put my sweatshirt back on and leave. As I walked out, I could feel blood dribbling down my arm so I hightailed it to the nearest bathroom. Sure enough it was a mess. Quite possibly that sweatshirt is ruined forever. I got it stopped, got cleaned up and hit the grocery store before heading home. Guess we'll see what the results are. I'd like it to be something simple like the gallbladder. But remember my intense fear of surgery. ANY surgery. And how I never heal right?? Maybe, I can just stop eating. Then I'd lose weight. That's a win/win right? So, just to prove all this really happened...here's a photo of the amazing bruise the IV left on my arm. I'm sure tomorrow the colors will be even better. Lol.
And thank you to everyone for the amazing outpouring of support and friendship and love yesterday. You have no idea how much it means to me. I feel so blessed. I wasn't feeling so hot after the test today so Sean and I are going up to get CJ tomorrow. I can't wait.
♥Spot
Monday, February 22, 2010
Remember that one day we got snowed in? Oh yeah...it was today.
So I'm snowed in today. Yeah. For real. I was pretty sure things were headed that way yesterday when the snow just would not quit. I'm not sure all total how much we got...maybe 8 inches? And we already had some. They cancelled school for today at 8 o'clock last night. I texted my foster son and told him there was no way his car was making it home from town so he could stay with friends. My husband said on the news this morning they showed their "sky cam" pictures and the town was pretty much not moving. But out here...nobodys moving. That's the beauty or curse (whichever you prefer) of living off the beaten path. I mean...way off. After you turn off the highway...you drive eight miles down a little two lane blacktop. Then two miles up a hill and around some curves on a narrow gravel road. Then another 1/4 mile gravel driveway to my house. My husband plows the drive, so it gets done relatively quickly, although it's bad to drift. The other gravel road? Last road in the county to be plowed because it's the county line. Sometimes it's plowed before 3 in the afternoon. Sometimes not. And the blacktop. Well it's kind of a crap shoot too. So today? No one's going anywhere.
This is the deck in back. The railing...all fresh snow.
This is the front yard. Poor pine trees. It's really a heavy wet snow.
More front yard. Want to swing?
The dog's roof to her pen collapsed under the weight of the snow. Luckily, she was in her house. Hubby and genius boy went out to rescue her and make a new roof. Lu's cat wanted to go outside when I opened the door to take pictures, until he realized the snow was deeper than he was. Yes, Sean and I did laugh at him.
Ordinarily? This would be my dream day. I love being snowed in. Really. I keep my freezer and pantry stocked well (you know, in case of the zombie apocalypse) so we don't need food. We have a fireplace, in the event we lose power. I got videos from town yesterday. And Lu was already off work today. So it would be a good day to be snowed in. Except that I had somewhere to go today. Lu and I were going to pick up CJ and bring him home for a few days. We were so excited. We haven't seen him in a couple of weeks. But even if we could get out to the highway...the highway takes a southerly turn and they got hit worse than we did, oddly enough. And this highway is notoriously bad for being icy. They never seem to get it cleared well. Even if I wanted to risk mine (I would) and Lu's (I would not) lives to get there, I most assuredly would not risk his to bring him home. Lu is disappointed because it's her only day off this week and she wanted to spend it with her brother. It gets harder and harder to coordinate every one's schedule so that I can bring him home when everyone can spend time with him. The only saving grace is that I hadn't notified his school yet that I was coming to get him, so he doesn't know and won't be disappointed. He'll still be happily surprised if I show up tomorrow instead. But I'm in tears.
Some of you reading my blog are probably lost right about now. CJ is my nineteen year old son with autism. Not the kind of autism you see on TV. Not Aspbergers. More severe. He is nonverbal. He understands what we say and we back it up with some sign language but he can't talk back. He uses some signs (mostly when we insist upon it) and somehow gets his message across most of the time. He is amazing. He has the best most infectious smile of anyone I know. And big expressive eyes. He's friendlier than most autistic children and people fall in love with him easily. He loves to be cuddled, he gives kisses, and his sister is his favorite person in the entire world. He likes spongebob and jump ropes. He can Rollerblade with amazing agility and grace. He bikes so slow that the bike wobbles from side to side and I am amazed that it remains upright. His favorite food is frozen burritos. He can eat a whole bag in a day, if you let him. He loves candy and can sniff it out no matter where I hide it. He hates crowds and loud noises. When he's frustrated he bites the back of his hands. They are permanently scarred. Sometimes in frustration and anger he lashes out. You must be vigilant for the "head butt". My nose has been broken, my cheekbone and jaw fractured. Concussions also suck. He hates the time out chair. He loves playing in the snow.
He's been attending a residential school since he was nine. Do not judge me for this. I remember thinking once, when I was at a conference, that no way would I ever let CJ move from home. No one could take better care of him than his family. Didn't that mother love her child at all? But what I came to realize was that sometimes loving your child means doing what's best for them no matter how it breaks your heart. The difficult and continually painful decision to let him attend a residential school stemmed from the fact that our school district did not have the resources to provide him with the services he needed. Nor could we off the level of routine at home that he requires to make him feel safe. His increasing level of frustration put his sister and brother in danger as well as himself. The school he attends is amazing. While they accept children of all disabilities, in the last several years their focus has been autism. He receives cutting edge therapy from the SIU school of medicine. His teachers, aides, and homeworkers have all been trained and continue to be trained in helping people with autism. He lives in a group home setting with other boys his age. He gets to go on field trips and do activities on a regular basis. They have a set routine so he knows what to expect. There have been a few problems through the years, but they've been dealt with swiftly and mostly to our satisfaction.
We bring CJ home for visits as much as we are able. He goes everywhere with me when he's home. Grocery shopping, out to eat, ect. We get stared at alot. It's odd to see a nineteen year old holding his mother's hand or dropping it so that he can pirouette for no apparent reason. But we are used to the stares and pay them no mind. I use sign language in public to alert people that there is more going on than meets the eye. We plan alot of family activities when he's home so that he has a chance to be with us all. And when the visit's over and I take him home, I cry. It's like leaving a part of me behind. When we first took him to the school, I slept with one of his sweat jackets for weeks. Now I content myself with a pillow. I can't explain to you how gut wrenching it is to leave him behind. Mostly, he seems okay with it and doesn't seem to mind, but there are occasional times (mostly few and far between now) that he will keep hold of my hand or his sisters jacket and we barely make it to the car before bursting into tears. So don't doubt my love for my child.
CJ has taught me so much. He's taught me that love really can be unconditional. Because his is. He taught me about appreciating people of all abilities. He's taught me to be completely secure within myself. Not to worry what other people think. And that the most important thing is to be able to look at myself in the mirror each night and be able to say "I did my best today". Because in the end, that's what matters. That I do my best. And take responsibility for it. He taught me not to judge others. He taught me that laughing is better than crying. That I can't control what the universe throws at me, I can only control how I react. He taught me that my husband's love for our children is just as strong as mine. That we may express it differently, deal with it differently, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He taught us to be partners. He taught us not to blame each other for things beyond our control. He taught us that life is rarely fair, but that we could persevere through the bad times. He taught us that pain makes the good times that much sweeter and more dear. Without the rain, you wouldn't know to appreciate the sun. He taught us to live for the moments that take our breath away. And that life is a never ending journey of learning and discovery and growth. He taught me to not be ashamed to ask for help when I need it and to never turn down another's plea for help. And he's taught my children these lessons too. I firmly believe that the higher powers put people like CJ in our lives not as a punishment but so that we may learn from him.
CJ and Lu
CJ jumping on the trampoline with Sean and Lu
Me & CJ at his prom last year. Sean, Lu & I were all there.
This has been a heavy post. Thank you to everyone who's kept reading til the end. I've been crying steadily the entire time. Lu stopped in to see what I was doing and started crying too. So in the interest of not leaving anyone in tears...I'm going to include an anecdote that makes us laugh. It illustrates how humor has always gotten me through...
One day when CJ was about six, I took him shopping while the younger two were at preschool. We'd run several errands and it was nearing time to pick them up from school. I don't remember why CJ wasn't at school that day but he was definitely getting tired of the shopping. He'd recently started opening the door and escaping the house if my attention was distracted. I cannot tell you the fear that struck in my heart. So my last stop was to Shopko where I was picking up some hook & eye latches to place on the door, well above his reach. I promised him a bag of skittles if we could just get through this last stop. I quickly found what I needed, got in line and placed them on the conveyor belt, along with a bag of skittles. CJ kept reaching for the skittles and was growing more and more frustrated that I wouldn't let him have them. The lady in front of me was taking her sweet time paying and the store was crowded. I pleaded with CJ to be patient and give me a few more minutes. But I could tell we were rapidly approaching meltdown.
Finally, he could take no more. In an effort to convey to me his supreme frustration, he picked up the package of hook & eye latches and hurled them. They sailed over my cashier's head and landed on a register three lanes away. Everyone stared at me open-mouthed. I briefly considered explaining, which was my usual mode of operation, but I was almost as tired and frustrated as my child, so instead I sighed wearily and said "Do you suppose someone could pass those back, because I really need them." And that was it. They got passed back. The cashier quickly rang us up and finished the transaction. People continued to stare and I could almost hear the thoughts of "why didn't she yell at that kid. what a horrible mother! why can't she make him behave?". But I honestly didn't care. Because the only one I was responsible to was myself and CJ. I handled it the best I could at that exact moment. I don't owe anyone an explanation. And yeah, I still gave him the skittles.
I promise to be funny tomorrow...
♥Spot
The dog's roof to her pen collapsed under the weight of the snow. Luckily, she was in her house. Hubby and genius boy went out to rescue her and make a new roof. Lu's cat wanted to go outside when I opened the door to take pictures, until he realized the snow was deeper than he was. Yes, Sean and I did laugh at him.
Ordinarily? This would be my dream day. I love being snowed in. Really. I keep my freezer and pantry stocked well (you know, in case of the zombie apocalypse) so we don't need food. We have a fireplace, in the event we lose power. I got videos from town yesterday. And Lu was already off work today. So it would be a good day to be snowed in. Except that I had somewhere to go today. Lu and I were going to pick up CJ and bring him home for a few days. We were so excited. We haven't seen him in a couple of weeks. But even if we could get out to the highway...the highway takes a southerly turn and they got hit worse than we did, oddly enough. And this highway is notoriously bad for being icy. They never seem to get it cleared well. Even if I wanted to risk mine (I would) and Lu's (I would not) lives to get there, I most assuredly would not risk his to bring him home. Lu is disappointed because it's her only day off this week and she wanted to spend it with her brother. It gets harder and harder to coordinate every one's schedule so that I can bring him home when everyone can spend time with him. The only saving grace is that I hadn't notified his school yet that I was coming to get him, so he doesn't know and won't be disappointed. He'll still be happily surprised if I show up tomorrow instead. But I'm in tears.
Some of you reading my blog are probably lost right about now. CJ is my nineteen year old son with autism. Not the kind of autism you see on TV. Not Aspbergers. More severe. He is nonverbal. He understands what we say and we back it up with some sign language but he can't talk back. He uses some signs (mostly when we insist upon it) and somehow gets his message across most of the time. He is amazing. He has the best most infectious smile of anyone I know. And big expressive eyes. He's friendlier than most autistic children and people fall in love with him easily. He loves to be cuddled, he gives kisses, and his sister is his favorite person in the entire world. He likes spongebob and jump ropes. He can Rollerblade with amazing agility and grace. He bikes so slow that the bike wobbles from side to side and I am amazed that it remains upright. His favorite food is frozen burritos. He can eat a whole bag in a day, if you let him. He loves candy and can sniff it out no matter where I hide it. He hates crowds and loud noises. When he's frustrated he bites the back of his hands. They are permanently scarred. Sometimes in frustration and anger he lashes out. You must be vigilant for the "head butt". My nose has been broken, my cheekbone and jaw fractured. Concussions also suck. He hates the time out chair. He loves playing in the snow.
He's been attending a residential school since he was nine. Do not judge me for this. I remember thinking once, when I was at a conference, that no way would I ever let CJ move from home. No one could take better care of him than his family. Didn't that mother love her child at all? But what I came to realize was that sometimes loving your child means doing what's best for them no matter how it breaks your heart. The difficult and continually painful decision to let him attend a residential school stemmed from the fact that our school district did not have the resources to provide him with the services he needed. Nor could we off the level of routine at home that he requires to make him feel safe. His increasing level of frustration put his sister and brother in danger as well as himself. The school he attends is amazing. While they accept children of all disabilities, in the last several years their focus has been autism. He receives cutting edge therapy from the SIU school of medicine. His teachers, aides, and homeworkers have all been trained and continue to be trained in helping people with autism. He lives in a group home setting with other boys his age. He gets to go on field trips and do activities on a regular basis. They have a set routine so he knows what to expect. There have been a few problems through the years, but they've been dealt with swiftly and mostly to our satisfaction.
We bring CJ home for visits as much as we are able. He goes everywhere with me when he's home. Grocery shopping, out to eat, ect. We get stared at alot. It's odd to see a nineteen year old holding his mother's hand or dropping it so that he can pirouette for no apparent reason. But we are used to the stares and pay them no mind. I use sign language in public to alert people that there is more going on than meets the eye. We plan alot of family activities when he's home so that he has a chance to be with us all. And when the visit's over and I take him home, I cry. It's like leaving a part of me behind. When we first took him to the school, I slept with one of his sweat jackets for weeks. Now I content myself with a pillow. I can't explain to you how gut wrenching it is to leave him behind. Mostly, he seems okay with it and doesn't seem to mind, but there are occasional times (mostly few and far between now) that he will keep hold of my hand or his sisters jacket and we barely make it to the car before bursting into tears. So don't doubt my love for my child.
CJ has taught me so much. He's taught me that love really can be unconditional. Because his is. He taught me about appreciating people of all abilities. He's taught me to be completely secure within myself. Not to worry what other people think. And that the most important thing is to be able to look at myself in the mirror each night and be able to say "I did my best today". Because in the end, that's what matters. That I do my best. And take responsibility for it. He taught me not to judge others. He taught me that laughing is better than crying. That I can't control what the universe throws at me, I can only control how I react. He taught me that my husband's love for our children is just as strong as mine. That we may express it differently, deal with it differently, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He taught us to be partners. He taught us not to blame each other for things beyond our control. He taught us that life is rarely fair, but that we could persevere through the bad times. He taught us that pain makes the good times that much sweeter and more dear. Without the rain, you wouldn't know to appreciate the sun. He taught us to live for the moments that take our breath away. And that life is a never ending journey of learning and discovery and growth. He taught me to not be ashamed to ask for help when I need it and to never turn down another's plea for help. And he's taught my children these lessons too. I firmly believe that the higher powers put people like CJ in our lives not as a punishment but so that we may learn from him.
This has been a heavy post. Thank you to everyone who's kept reading til the end. I've been crying steadily the entire time. Lu stopped in to see what I was doing and started crying too. So in the interest of not leaving anyone in tears...I'm going to include an anecdote that makes us laugh. It illustrates how humor has always gotten me through...
One day when CJ was about six, I took him shopping while the younger two were at preschool. We'd run several errands and it was nearing time to pick them up from school. I don't remember why CJ wasn't at school that day but he was definitely getting tired of the shopping. He'd recently started opening the door and escaping the house if my attention was distracted. I cannot tell you the fear that struck in my heart. So my last stop was to Shopko where I was picking up some hook & eye latches to place on the door, well above his reach. I promised him a bag of skittles if we could just get through this last stop. I quickly found what I needed, got in line and placed them on the conveyor belt, along with a bag of skittles. CJ kept reaching for the skittles and was growing more and more frustrated that I wouldn't let him have them. The lady in front of me was taking her sweet time paying and the store was crowded. I pleaded with CJ to be patient and give me a few more minutes. But I could tell we were rapidly approaching meltdown.
Finally, he could take no more. In an effort to convey to me his supreme frustration, he picked up the package of hook & eye latches and hurled them. They sailed over my cashier's head and landed on a register three lanes away. Everyone stared at me open-mouthed. I briefly considered explaining, which was my usual mode of operation, but I was almost as tired and frustrated as my child, so instead I sighed wearily and said "Do you suppose someone could pass those back, because I really need them." And that was it. They got passed back. The cashier quickly rang us up and finished the transaction. People continued to stare and I could almost hear the thoughts of "why didn't she yell at that kid. what a horrible mother! why can't she make him behave?". But I honestly didn't care. Because the only one I was responsible to was myself and CJ. I handled it the best I could at that exact moment. I don't owe anyone an explanation. And yeah, I still gave him the skittles.
I promise to be funny tomorrow...
♥Spot
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Of engagements, racism, and freezing my butt off...
So I'm sitting here waiting for Lu to get home from her future in-laws house. They live about an hour and a half north of us in Iowa. She went up for a the wedding of one of the hippie's best friends. And then stayed the night. I texted her this morning to tell her we were getting a buttload of snow today so they should probably hit the road. Her back here and the Hippie another 3 hours northwest to his home. And yes, did anyone notice that I said "future in-laws"? I'm not going to give a whole update on the loves of Lulu here, but they returned from their overnight trip on Thursday morning to announce that they were "engaged to be engaged". Meaning that she has a ring (a claddaugh of course) and she's wearing it in the "engaged" position but there will be another ring coming and a more formal announcement. Currently they've even set a tentative wedding date for August 27, 2012. They will both have graduated college by then although Lu will still have to take her boards that December to practice in a medical facility. Yes, I'm happy. The Hippie was not my first choice but he has definitely stepped up to the plate. And Lu is ecstactic. That's enough for me. And the fact that they're giving us two years to save up for the wedding. Lol.
But now back to the trip...
The day after we got there we walked down the beach about a mile to the Cherry Grove Fishing Pier. And out onto said Pier. It was freezing!! The sun was bright but the wind chill was in the high 20's. And the wind was so strong it nearly pushed us over. And we had to keep turning around to avoid the sand blowing in our faces. And yet, we still had fun. Although it took 20 minutes in a warm shower for me to feel my fingers again...
It looks warm, doesn't it??!
My new friend, Bob.
The endless ocean
My folks and Lu. Why yes, that is my mother's impression of an Eskimo at the beach!
Sean alone braves the wind at the rail.
The long trek back. Lu kept walking right past the condo. We laughed at her.
My children are always amazed at how different my folks are from myself. Sometimes the differences are subtle, sometimes more pronounced. My parents have always been racist. I once even had to announce that we didn't speak like that at our dinner table and since it was my house I'd like for my wishes to be respected. But when we're on their turf, all bets are off. I understand that they were raised in a different era, ect. But still. Lately my mother has taken it to a whole new level. After one tirade~
Lu: How is it possible to hate an entire race of people?
Sean: Don't be silly Lu, grandma hates way more than just one race.
Me: It's true. She's an equal opportunity hater. I don't think she likes anyone anymore.
And my father was talking about where they might travel to next and was discussing climate in the southwest and then all the people there.~
Me: Well I don't really know where you can go Dad. I mean everywhere you go there's going to be at least one group of people Mom doesn't like. I seriously doubt any white supremacist groups are offering vacation packages, but it sounds like that might be your best bet.
At this point in time, it's easier to diffuse the situation with humor and have open discussions with my children later. And be thankful that my children are appalled by the behavior. Sometimes, I really think I'm doing this parenting thing right...
more ridiculousness and photos tomorrow,
♥Spot
But now back to the trip...
The day after we got there we walked down the beach about a mile to the Cherry Grove Fishing Pier. And out onto said Pier. It was freezing!! The sun was bright but the wind chill was in the high 20's. And the wind was so strong it nearly pushed us over. And we had to keep turning around to avoid the sand blowing in our faces. And yet, we still had fun. Although it took 20 minutes in a warm shower for me to feel my fingers again...
My children are always amazed at how different my folks are from myself. Sometimes the differences are subtle, sometimes more pronounced. My parents have always been racist. I once even had to announce that we didn't speak like that at our dinner table and since it was my house I'd like for my wishes to be respected. But when we're on their turf, all bets are off. I understand that they were raised in a different era, ect. But still. Lately my mother has taken it to a whole new level. After one tirade~
Lu: How is it possible to hate an entire race of people?
Sean: Don't be silly Lu, grandma hates way more than just one race.
Me: It's true. She's an equal opportunity hater. I don't think she likes anyone anymore.
And my father was talking about where they might travel to next and was discussing climate in the southwest and then all the people there.~
Me: Well I don't really know where you can go Dad. I mean everywhere you go there's going to be at least one group of people Mom doesn't like. I seriously doubt any white supremacist groups are offering vacation packages, but it sounds like that might be your best bet.
At this point in time, it's easier to diffuse the situation with humor and have open discussions with my children later. And be thankful that my children are appalled by the behavior. Sometimes, I really think I'm doing this parenting thing right...
more ridiculousness and photos tomorrow,
♥Spot
Friday, February 19, 2010
Why Lu rocks and a desperate plea for money...
We interrupt the regularly scheduled programming....more on my trip tomorrow, pinky promise, with photos. But I promised Lu that today I would do some begging for her. And since it's for a good cause I won't even feel the least bit bad.
Lu has been contacted by the Muscular Dystrophy Association about their annual fundraiser. She will be removed from work and "locked up for MDA" on February 25th, frantically calling friends and family to raise her goal- $1500. Someone anonymously gave them her name and when they called, she graciously agreed to participate. Any and all disabilities are important in our home and anything we can do to raise awareness and money is important. We do not have anyone in our family or extended family who have suffered with Muscular Dystrophy, but one of Sean's childhood friends, Jordan, had MD and passed away last year. She was a beautiful little girl with the heart of a fighter and the soul of a poet.
Both Lu and Sean are counselors during the summer at a camp for people with disabilities. Lu is their supreme autism handler. Of course, after living with CJ, she's got that down! And all of her Campers adore her. Two years ago they had a new twelve year old boy come to camp for the first time. He was autistic and very close on the spectrum to her brother CJ. They had many of the same characteristics. His parents were very nervous about leaving him at camp, in someone else's care. He was assigned to Lu and she spoke to his parents every day on the phone to reassure them. He returned eagerly last year.
Lu and her camper
Sean is often given the less manageable campers because of his size, strength and infinite patience. He deals with wheelchairs, spasticity, and frustration. He is amazing with these campers. And they also adore him. He too, works well with autistic children.
Sean and a camper
It's no wonder the girls he works with at camp fall for him, huh? Both of them have been this way from a young age. When Lu was in 3rd grade and Sean in 2nd, I got a call from the school principal because they'd ganged up on a kid who was bullying a deaf child at recess. Guess who didn't get punished? However, they did get a lesson in the art of verbal warfare. Why use fists when you can skewer them with your words?
So on to Lu's latest endeavor. She can collect money before the actual "lock up" as well. And so I'm including this link:
https://www.joinmda.org/2010quincy/fearlessdivagirl
Unfortunately, you can only donate by credit/debit card. But even if everyone who reads this donates $1 it will help. Thank you in advance. And the video is kinda cute and clever. =}
♥Spot
Lu has been contacted by the Muscular Dystrophy Association about their annual fundraiser. She will be removed from work and "locked up for MDA" on February 25th, frantically calling friends and family to raise her goal- $1500. Someone anonymously gave them her name and when they called, she graciously agreed to participate. Any and all disabilities are important in our home and anything we can do to raise awareness and money is important. We do not have anyone in our family or extended family who have suffered with Muscular Dystrophy, but one of Sean's childhood friends, Jordan, had MD and passed away last year. She was a beautiful little girl with the heart of a fighter and the soul of a poet.
Both Lu and Sean are counselors during the summer at a camp for people with disabilities. Lu is their supreme autism handler. Of course, after living with CJ, she's got that down! And all of her Campers adore her. Two years ago they had a new twelve year old boy come to camp for the first time. He was autistic and very close on the spectrum to her brother CJ. They had many of the same characteristics. His parents were very nervous about leaving him at camp, in someone else's care. He was assigned to Lu and she spoke to his parents every day on the phone to reassure them. He returned eagerly last year.
Sean is often given the less manageable campers because of his size, strength and infinite patience. He deals with wheelchairs, spasticity, and frustration. He is amazing with these campers. And they also adore him. He too, works well with autistic children.
It's no wonder the girls he works with at camp fall for him, huh? Both of them have been this way from a young age. When Lu was in 3rd grade and Sean in 2nd, I got a call from the school principal because they'd ganged up on a kid who was bullying a deaf child at recess. Guess who didn't get punished? However, they did get a lesson in the art of verbal warfare. Why use fists when you can skewer them with your words?
So on to Lu's latest endeavor. She can collect money before the actual "lock up" as well. And so I'm including this link:
https://www.joinmda.org/2010quincy/fearlessdivagirl
Unfortunately, you can only donate by credit/debit card. But even if everyone who reads this donates $1 it will help. Thank you in advance. And the video is kinda cute and clever. =}
♥Spot
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