I called the genetics office today to see if Daniel's results from the microarray are in. I was put on hold four times (and man, is the elevator music loud on their system) and finally the secretary talked to me.
"I can see that the results are in, but the counselor isn't available to talk to you right now. She'll have to get back with you."
"Will that be tonight or tomorrow? Because if it showed something, I REALLY want to know as soon as possible." Hell, it's only been thirteen years.
"Ok, she's in clinic for the rest of the day, but I'll send her a message and let her know that you're anxious for the results."
Since it's after six, she must be waiting to contact me. At least I'm off tomorrow and can start calling them myself bright and early. I don't want to wait until Monday, and I know how to be a nudge.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Change
I'm enjoying Elizabeth's post this morning, and the song she shared is playing as I write.
My last post was about changing some things in myself. I used to be much more open. Somewhere along the way I started editing myself. I don't want to offend people, and I want to fit in and be liked. So alot of times I leave out parts of my story that I think might sound too weird, New Agey or out of the mainstream. I don't usually get into politics. I'm vocal at home, and with people who I know won't challenge me. That's pretty chicken shit.
I admire the outspoken. I was listening to the radio on the way to work the other morning and the DJ's were talking about some celebrities who identified publicly with a political party, and how they're doing themselves a disservice. "That's why you'll never know who we're voting for," the DJ ended with. It made me think. It's good to play it safe if you want to maintain popularity on the radio or in life. But it's the people who speak up that get our attention and really force us to figure out where we stand. And it's how true allies and friendships are formed.
I'll start with one thing. I believe that we are eternal, and that we have some choice regarding the life we enter and the people whose lives we'll be involved with.
Before Daniel was conceived I was working on a book proposal. ARE Press published my book 'Walking the Spiritual Walk' in 1994, and I wanted to follow it up with one about conscious conception and preparation for parenthood. One of the chapters I researched was the idea of conception mandalas. I read about them, and then made my own.
I read these books while I prepared the sample chapters and tried to live what I was writing.
The proposal was being considered by a publisher, and I had people on board to add their support on the back cover. Then Daniel was born and there was no time to write. I figured I'd come back to it later.
My first book was largely about my marriage to Daniel's dad, and when that didn't work out, I really lost faith. I questioned many of the things I thought I'd figured out. I felt very much like a failure. It shook my foundation, for sure.
I found out that life isn't as simple as I once imagined it to be. It's not neat. It's messy. It hurts. But if we aren't honest about our mistakes, our flaws and our Truths, we are stuck.
Here's to the Martin Luther King Jr.'s of the world, and all those who aren't afraid to speak their truth.
My last post was about changing some things in myself. I used to be much more open. Somewhere along the way I started editing myself. I don't want to offend people, and I want to fit in and be liked. So alot of times I leave out parts of my story that I think might sound too weird, New Agey or out of the mainstream. I don't usually get into politics. I'm vocal at home, and with people who I know won't challenge me. That's pretty chicken shit.
I admire the outspoken. I was listening to the radio on the way to work the other morning and the DJ's were talking about some celebrities who identified publicly with a political party, and how they're doing themselves a disservice. "That's why you'll never know who we're voting for," the DJ ended with. It made me think. It's good to play it safe if you want to maintain popularity on the radio or in life. But it's the people who speak up that get our attention and really force us to figure out where we stand. And it's how true allies and friendships are formed.
I'll start with one thing. I believe that we are eternal, and that we have some choice regarding the life we enter and the people whose lives we'll be involved with.
Before Daniel was conceived I was working on a book proposal. ARE Press published my book 'Walking the Spiritual Walk' in 1994, and I wanted to follow it up with one about conscious conception and preparation for parenthood. One of the chapters I researched was the idea of conception mandalas. I read about them, and then made my own.
I read these books while I prepared the sample chapters and tried to live what I was writing.
The proposal was being considered by a publisher, and I had people on board to add their support on the back cover. Then Daniel was born and there was no time to write. I figured I'd come back to it later.
My first book was largely about my marriage to Daniel's dad, and when that didn't work out, I really lost faith. I questioned many of the things I thought I'd figured out. I felt very much like a failure. It shook my foundation, for sure.
I found out that life isn't as simple as I once imagined it to be. It's not neat. It's messy. It hurts. But if we aren't honest about our mistakes, our flaws and our Truths, we are stuck.
Here's to the Martin Luther King Jr.'s of the world, and all those who aren't afraid to speak their truth.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Blue Monday
I wasn't at work very long this morning when I got one of the calls I don't like. It was Rich on the phone telling me Daniel was in the middle of a big seizure. His care provider was also still there, and this is the first time she's seen him seize.
I told Rich where the Diastat was (they already knew, but in times like these it's good to have the emergency response mom on the phone giving directions). I was talking to him while Rita gave it, and listened while he described the shaking and unresponsiveness.
My principal was at my door needing someone to help with a parent whose kid has ringworm. I got off the phone and talked to her and let the parent know what to do. Then I called my most wonderful boss, a nurse who cared for her autistic sister for many years. She found a float nurse to replace me right away.
In between calling a parent whose kid just vomited, and giving a few routine meds, I touched base with Rich to make sure Daniel was alright. He was sleeping in Rita's arms.
Within an hour of Daniel's seizure, I was back home. He's crying a little off and on and resting. He doesn't have a fever or any other signs of illness, so I'm pretty sure he may have lost some Topamax at some point (he likes to spit it out, and I'm not always super-diligent about checking his mouth after he takes it).
He's lying beside me now and seems pretty calm. I'll give some extra Topamax today and hope that this is the last of the Big Shakes for a long time.
I'm lucky I have an understanding boss, a great care provider and a husband who knows what to do. Still, I'm gonna eat a crispy English muffin with lots of jelly and wallow a little. It is Monday, after all.
I told Rich where the Diastat was (they already knew, but in times like these it's good to have the emergency response mom on the phone giving directions). I was talking to him while Rita gave it, and listened while he described the shaking and unresponsiveness.
My principal was at my door needing someone to help with a parent whose kid has ringworm. I got off the phone and talked to her and let the parent know what to do. Then I called my most wonderful boss, a nurse who cared for her autistic sister for many years. She found a float nurse to replace me right away.
In between calling a parent whose kid just vomited, and giving a few routine meds, I touched base with Rich to make sure Daniel was alright. He was sleeping in Rita's arms.
Within an hour of Daniel's seizure, I was back home. He's crying a little off and on and resting. He doesn't have a fever or any other signs of illness, so I'm pretty sure he may have lost some Topamax at some point (he likes to spit it out, and I'm not always super-diligent about checking his mouth after he takes it).
He's lying beside me now and seems pretty calm. I'll give some extra Topamax today and hope that this is the last of the Big Shakes for a long time.
I'm lucky I have an understanding boss, a great care provider and a husband who knows what to do. Still, I'm gonna eat a crispy English muffin with lots of jelly and wallow a little. It is Monday, after all.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Just a Quickie
I found an app yesterday for Daniel's new iPad, and this morning he's already used it appropriately! It's called Tap to Talk and it has albums with large, colorful pictures that you touch lightly (aka tap) and a voice says what the picture represents. This is big.
Daniel just touched "I need to go to the bathroom", so that's where he is now, and I'm off in a few to bring him back for more coffee talk.
This is great! Thanks again, Ken and Heather!
Daniel just touched "I need to go to the bathroom", so that's where he is now, and I'm off in a few to bring him back for more coffee talk.
This is great! Thanks again, Ken and Heather!
Monday, January 2, 2012
Dreams
The blog that inspired me to jump on the blogging bandwagon (later than most) is written by Lesley. Here is her latest post.
I have similar feelings, fears and longings rolling about in my mind. I want a simple, happy, peaceful life. For Daniel. For myself and the people closest to us who love us and keep us going. Like Lesley, I don't dream about vacations or having a hot body with a wardrobe fit to kill. It's not that I'm "above" those things, whatever that means. It's just that I have this teenage boy in my life who shifts my perspective and helps me clarify what I really, really want as our experience.
Lesley says this, "I sense that this was all written on her pretty little soul the very first day she came into this world. And my challenge will be to handle it. To deal with it, to make sense of it and to support her in every possible way. Am I am fearful? Yes. It makes me anxious, yes. But mostly it makes me sad. And more determined than ever to make every day a good day for Sarah, as best as it can be. I live in the moment, because her future isn't looking too hot."
She writes that Sarah is losing some of her skills, and without a diagnosis, Lesley isn't sure what the future holds in terms of prognosis.
Because of Daniel I have so many people in my life who deal with uncertainty, with more unknowns than most parents. True, none of us knows what twists and turns our lives will take. Not many people plan on cancer or life altering accidents. But this ride is different. If you aren't on it, I can't really fully explain the experience. It's something you have to live.
I do know that having a community of friends who "get it" makes all the difference. I thank you all. I'm ready to do it again in this New Year, this circa 2012. Here's to it!
I have similar feelings, fears and longings rolling about in my mind. I want a simple, happy, peaceful life. For Daniel. For myself and the people closest to us who love us and keep us going. Like Lesley, I don't dream about vacations or having a hot body with a wardrobe fit to kill. It's not that I'm "above" those things, whatever that means. It's just that I have this teenage boy in my life who shifts my perspective and helps me clarify what I really, really want as our experience.
Lesley says this, "I sense that this was all written on her pretty little soul the very first day she came into this world. And my challenge will be to handle it. To deal with it, to make sense of it and to support her in every possible way. Am I am fearful? Yes. It makes me anxious, yes. But mostly it makes me sad. And more determined than ever to make every day a good day for Sarah, as best as it can be. I live in the moment, because her future isn't looking too hot."
She writes that Sarah is losing some of her skills, and without a diagnosis, Lesley isn't sure what the future holds in terms of prognosis.
Because of Daniel I have so many people in my life who deal with uncertainty, with more unknowns than most parents. True, none of us knows what twists and turns our lives will take. Not many people plan on cancer or life altering accidents. But this ride is different. If you aren't on it, I can't really fully explain the experience. It's something you have to live.
I do know that having a community of friends who "get it" makes all the difference. I thank you all. I'm ready to do it again in this New Year, this circa 2012. Here's to it!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
The River of Stones
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
Is it 2012 yet?
I just finished a long walk with Daniel around the neighborhood. I tried to breathe a little more deeply and let some of the chaos of the past couple of weeks go. It's been good, not so good, and at times a bit ugly.
First of all, thank God my parents have been here since Thanksgiving. I don't know how we'd have survived without them. We'd definitely be less well fed and the house would not be as organized. I love those two with my whole heart and every cell of my being! Not that I'm dramatic or anything!
Both of my kids had birthdays in the past week. Those were good days. Celebratory. Fun. I now have both a 16 and 13 year old living under my roof, and I'm about to hit 50. Let the good times roll!
On Christmas day we went over to pick up Rich's mom who lives alone since her husband of 64 years died this past August. She didn't answer the door, and the newspaper from the day before was still outside. Not good.
I yelled through the mail slot and heard her weakly say, "I'm coming," just as we got the stubborn key to turn in the lock. She was on the floor in her pajamas, and had been there for awhile.
Long story short, she was hurt, but not badly. We ended up calling rescue and having her admitted to the hospital where we found out she has a few issues that need immediate attention. Her rotator cuff is torn, and she's a little more confused than usual.
After a few days as an inpatient, she was transferred to a skilled nursing facility for physical rehab and nursing care. The main point that I must relate about all of this is that she is one tough, kind, positive lady. She's thankful, polite to all, and she does not complain. I could learn a lot from her. When I think of how well she's handled all of this, it really tears me up. I love that woman.
So, you can perhaps imagine that life has kicked it up a few notches lately. Daniel is great, he got over a cold in two days time and only a few nebulizer treatments. Melody took a little longer to get over hers, and I stayed healthy through it all. My mom and dad are strong like bulls, even though they have a lot of pain to deal with at almost 77 years of age.
We have a few more nights together, then we'll all be back to our old routines. For now, I'm focusing on ringing in 2012 with as much chutzpah as I can muster.
Here's to all of you out there struggling, yet having fun and making this crazy life work one way or another! If I don't post again until then, Happy New Year!
First of all, thank God my parents have been here since Thanksgiving. I don't know how we'd have survived without them. We'd definitely be less well fed and the house would not be as organized. I love those two with my whole heart and every cell of my being! Not that I'm dramatic or anything!
Both of my kids had birthdays in the past week. Those were good days. Celebratory. Fun. I now have both a 16 and 13 year old living under my roof, and I'm about to hit 50. Let the good times roll!
On Christmas day we went over to pick up Rich's mom who lives alone since her husband of 64 years died this past August. She didn't answer the door, and the newspaper from the day before was still outside. Not good.
I yelled through the mail slot and heard her weakly say, "I'm coming," just as we got the stubborn key to turn in the lock. She was on the floor in her pajamas, and had been there for awhile.
Long story short, she was hurt, but not badly. We ended up calling rescue and having her admitted to the hospital where we found out she has a few issues that need immediate attention. Her rotator cuff is torn, and she's a little more confused than usual.
After a few days as an inpatient, she was transferred to a skilled nursing facility for physical rehab and nursing care. The main point that I must relate about all of this is that she is one tough, kind, positive lady. She's thankful, polite to all, and she does not complain. I could learn a lot from her. When I think of how well she's handled all of this, it really tears me up. I love that woman.
So, you can perhaps imagine that life has kicked it up a few notches lately. Daniel is great, he got over a cold in two days time and only a few nebulizer treatments. Melody took a little longer to get over hers, and I stayed healthy through it all. My mom and dad are strong like bulls, even though they have a lot of pain to deal with at almost 77 years of age.
We have a few more nights together, then we'll all be back to our old routines. For now, I'm focusing on ringing in 2012 with as much chutzpah as I can muster.
Here's to all of you out there struggling, yet having fun and making this crazy life work one way or another! If I don't post again until then, Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sixteen!
My daughter turned 16 today. If I could choose to help her learn just one thing, the above would be a pretty good choice. Truth be told, she teaches me more than I'll ever teach her. She has been one of Daniel's constant companions and best friends. Love, love, love that girl. We took a day trip with my mom to Cassadaga, Florida.
My mom and my daughter.
I am quite possibly at my nerdiest in this picture. It's one of few taken with my daughter today, so I'll bury my ego and include it here!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Thirteen!
Daniel unwrapped the new iPad today, and his big sister helped with selecting the first few apps to get him started. Cool coloring app, and one specifically for autism that involves cause and effect. These were taken at the end of a long, very fun day spent in St. Augustine. He was tired, but attentive.
He (and I) are very lucky to have her to help us with the technical stuff. Here's to big sisters, Mission: iPossible and Daniel's thirteenth birthday!
He (and I) are very lucky to have her to help us with the technical stuff. Here's to big sisters, Mission: iPossible and Daniel's thirteenth birthday!
Sunday, December 18, 2011
What keeps you going?
What is it that keeps you going as you care for your child full-time? Part of my inner pep talk comes from a book I read when Daniel was a baby, Changed by a Child, by Barbara Gill. When I'm really tiring out and starting to wonder how I can keep up, I think of her words.
She writes, "The physical acts we perform for our children easily become tiresome chores. Our son is seven and we still have to dress him; at fourteen we are helping with the shampoo, the bath, putting the special lotion on the very dry skin. He is well beyond age one and we are still feeding him and will be for years to come..."
"There are days when we think we cannot do another feeding or give one more bath. And then there are those moments when we give ourselves completely in response to our child's need...We know the intimacy of placing food in another person's mouth...We are not just putting on a shirt; we are consciously touching another person with love. When we surrender ourselves to these acts of physical caring, we experience love; we are healed and made strong."
When I hear him calling me on a Saturday morning and I'd really rather lie in bed awhile longer, that passage often comes to mind. Surrender. When I give up my ideas of how things "should" be, or might have been, or how much better or easier someone else has it, I can get into the zone. He needs me. He needs me every single day in very basic, life sustaining ways. I don't want to glorify his disability. Yet I also want to shine light on how beautiful our relationship is. It's a balance I'm aiming for.
I could easily let my thoughts overwhelm me if I dwell too long on just how dependent Daniel is on me. I am responsible for all of his physical routines such as eating and bathing as well as moving and lifting him. I support him financially. My job pays the bills, and the little I get from other sources wouldn't even cover a months worth of diapers and food.
It's not good to be without a back-up, but that's where I am right now. I have a little bit of state help in the form of a personal caregiver who enables me to get out the door in the morning for work before his school bus comes. If he's sick, I'm the one who has to stay home and miss work. The buck stops here every single time. That's ok, and yet it's not. I know I have to build a network and have supports in place. That's a topic for another post, though, and one I've touched on before.
Today I'm just grateful that I read that book when he was so small. It really affected the way I frame the experience Daniel and I are living. Is it stretching things to say that it's a privilege to be so enmeshed in caring for him? I don't think so.
So, back to my original question. It's one I really want answers to. What is it that keeps you going?
She writes, "The physical acts we perform for our children easily become tiresome chores. Our son is seven and we still have to dress him; at fourteen we are helping with the shampoo, the bath, putting the special lotion on the very dry skin. He is well beyond age one and we are still feeding him and will be for years to come..."
"There are days when we think we cannot do another feeding or give one more bath. And then there are those moments when we give ourselves completely in response to our child's need...We know the intimacy of placing food in another person's mouth...We are not just putting on a shirt; we are consciously touching another person with love. When we surrender ourselves to these acts of physical caring, we experience love; we are healed and made strong."
When I hear him calling me on a Saturday morning and I'd really rather lie in bed awhile longer, that passage often comes to mind. Surrender. When I give up my ideas of how things "should" be, or might have been, or how much better or easier someone else has it, I can get into the zone. He needs me. He needs me every single day in very basic, life sustaining ways. I don't want to glorify his disability. Yet I also want to shine light on how beautiful our relationship is. It's a balance I'm aiming for.
I could easily let my thoughts overwhelm me if I dwell too long on just how dependent Daniel is on me. I am responsible for all of his physical routines such as eating and bathing as well as moving and lifting him. I support him financially. My job pays the bills, and the little I get from other sources wouldn't even cover a months worth of diapers and food.
It's not good to be without a back-up, but that's where I am right now. I have a little bit of state help in the form of a personal caregiver who enables me to get out the door in the morning for work before his school bus comes. If he's sick, I'm the one who has to stay home and miss work. The buck stops here every single time. That's ok, and yet it's not. I know I have to build a network and have supports in place. That's a topic for another post, though, and one I've touched on before.
Today I'm just grateful that I read that book when he was so small. It really affected the way I frame the experience Daniel and I are living. Is it stretching things to say that it's a privilege to be so enmeshed in caring for him? I don't think so.
So, back to my original question. It's one I really want answers to. What is it that keeps you going?
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thank you, Mission: iPossible!
When I started this blog my first entry was about communication. We were beginning to try a new picture system in school last spring, and I posted some photos of Daniel attempting to use it.
The picture book turned out to be too complicated and cumbersome. Even I, with somewhat normal dexterity, had trouble finding the page and picture I was looking for. We bagged it.
Then we started private speech and language therapy. Daniel's therapist suggested an iPad. Hmmmm. The cost of one is pretty steep. I told Dan's dad to save any Christmas or birthday money he receives for him (Daniel will be thirteen on the 23rd) and that I would do the same. I figured we might be able to pool enough to buy him one for his birthday/Christmas present.
Then I stumbled upon a blog that was giving away iPads. It's over here: Mission: iPossible
I entered. There was a two week wait, after which a random generator picked two winners.
And...you guessed it! Daniel won! I'm very excited about the potential that the communication apps have for him. It's also really good to end the year on a positive note like this.
Thanks, Ken, Heather and Mission: iPossible! Stay tuned for stories and pictures of Mr. D and his new state of the art communication tool!
The picture book turned out to be too complicated and cumbersome. Even I, with somewhat normal dexterity, had trouble finding the page and picture I was looking for. We bagged it.
Then we started private speech and language therapy. Daniel's therapist suggested an iPad. Hmmmm. The cost of one is pretty steep. I told Dan's dad to save any Christmas or birthday money he receives for him (Daniel will be thirteen on the 23rd) and that I would do the same. I figured we might be able to pool enough to buy him one for his birthday/Christmas present.
Then I stumbled upon a blog that was giving away iPads. It's over here: Mission: iPossible
I entered. There was a two week wait, after which a random generator picked two winners.
And...you guessed it! Daniel won! I'm very excited about the potential that the communication apps have for him. It's also really good to end the year on a positive note like this.
Thanks, Ken, Heather and Mission: iPossible! Stay tuned for stories and pictures of Mr. D and his new state of the art communication tool!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Road Trip
We loaded up the van and went to Gainseville yesterday. Destination: The University of Florida and one of the country’s experts on Angelman Syndrome.
The trip started in the pouring rain. As I lifted Daniel into his grandpa’s van, I caught a whiff of something. Then it was back into the wheelchair, and back inside for what would prove to be a fortunate bathroom break.
Thirty minutes into the trip, I realized I left his bag with his Pediasure, diapers, wipes, cups and bandanas sitting in the garage. Oops. Do we turn around? Do we wing it? We chose to keep going.
Daniel is a fussy eater. He prefers Pediasure from a straw, but eats lunch at school everyday. I’m always amazed that they check “ate 100% of meal”. But apparently he does. So, when we pulled into KFC I had strong words for my boy.
“You MUST eat now, because I didn’t bring any Pediasure, and your stomach will hurt if you don’t eat something. It’s just like a regular school day. You HAVE to eat. No water until you eat, either.” That last part didn’t thrill him at all, and he reached and reached for the water cup. Drinking is one of his favorite activities.
Mean mama prevailed (I guess I'm not quite as ineffective as I think). He ate his lunch, drank a little water, and we were off again.
Parking was fun. We went to the wrong garage and the wrong building. When we realized it, we had to move fast (in the rain) through three parking areas and into the right clinic. This involved my 76 year old father helping me lift the wheelchair with Daniel in it up four stairs (not four flights, mind you, just four stairs. Still.) We made it to the check-in desk five minutes ahead of time.
Dr. Williams came in wearing a mask since he’s battling a cold. I thanked him for not sharing his germs with us, and he proceeded to go through the list of tests that Daniel’s had done in his almost 13 years on earth (this was after we saw the nurse, followed by the nurse practitioner).
The doc left the room to confer with his NP, then came back with his pronouncements. “This is not Angelman Syndrome. He doesn’t have the Angelman gestalt. His main characteristics seem to be severe growth retardation and autistic behaviors. It's definitely genetic. Have you had the microarray analysis done? No? I’ll write a script for one and it may show some chromosomal deletions or duplications.” He talked some more genetics talk, and then we headed to the lab.
We found some milk for him to sip while we waited. The technician looked for a vein and tightened the tourniquet on his arm. Daniel suddenly grinned big. Is he enjoying this whole debacle more than me? Then he passed gas. Loudly. Forcefully. I guess that’s what he thought of the whole business.
The trip started in the pouring rain. As I lifted Daniel into his grandpa’s van, I caught a whiff of something. Then it was back into the wheelchair, and back inside for what would prove to be a fortunate bathroom break.
Thirty minutes into the trip, I realized I left his bag with his Pediasure, diapers, wipes, cups and bandanas sitting in the garage. Oops. Do we turn around? Do we wing it? We chose to keep going.
Daniel is a fussy eater. He prefers Pediasure from a straw, but eats lunch at school everyday. I’m always amazed that they check “ate 100% of meal”. But apparently he does. So, when we pulled into KFC I had strong words for my boy.
“You MUST eat now, because I didn’t bring any Pediasure, and your stomach will hurt if you don’t eat something. It’s just like a regular school day. You HAVE to eat. No water until you eat, either.” That last part didn’t thrill him at all, and he reached and reached for the water cup. Drinking is one of his favorite activities.
Mean mama prevailed (I guess I'm not quite as ineffective as I think). He ate his lunch, drank a little water, and we were off again.
Parking was fun. We went to the wrong garage and the wrong building. When we realized it, we had to move fast (in the rain) through three parking areas and into the right clinic. This involved my 76 year old father helping me lift the wheelchair with Daniel in it up four stairs (not four flights, mind you, just four stairs. Still.) We made it to the check-in desk five minutes ahead of time.
Dr. Williams came in wearing a mask since he’s battling a cold. I thanked him for not sharing his germs with us, and he proceeded to go through the list of tests that Daniel’s had done in his almost 13 years on earth (this was after we saw the nurse, followed by the nurse practitioner).
The doc left the room to confer with his NP, then came back with his pronouncements. “This is not Angelman Syndrome. He doesn’t have the Angelman gestalt. His main characteristics seem to be severe growth retardation and autistic behaviors. It's definitely genetic. Have you had the microarray analysis done? No? I’ll write a script for one and it may show some chromosomal deletions or duplications.” He talked some more genetics talk, and then we headed to the lab.
We found some milk for him to sip while we waited. The technician looked for a vein and tightened the tourniquet on his arm. Daniel suddenly grinned big. Is he enjoying this whole debacle more than me? Then he passed gas. Loudly. Forcefully. I guess that’s what he thought of the whole business.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Communal Living
I've been researching the idea of disability communes, aka intentional communities, since a couple of posts ago. I sort of like the idea at noahsarkflorida.org (links aren't working right now, sorry), but it's designed for families whose kids have mild to moderate developmental disabilities. I would love to see something for those of us whose kids are in the severe range.
I'm wondering who else out there would be interested in a living arrangement that includes entire families who have a severely disabled minor or adult child. I'm envisioning something like a large area of land, maybe several acres, with separate cottages and possibly a common area for meals.
Does this ring anyone's bell, or do I need to get my head outa the clouds?
I'm wondering who else out there would be interested in a living arrangement that includes entire families who have a severely disabled minor or adult child. I'm envisioning something like a large area of land, maybe several acres, with separate cottages and possibly a common area for meals.
Does this ring anyone's bell, or do I need to get my head outa the clouds?
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Bombshell
Yesterday my mom took some pictures of Daniel sitting with me in the front yard. It's been awhile since the two of us have had a good one taken, so she snapped a stream of them. Not. One. Smile.
As you can see, it was pretty much a bust.
Later that evening, I took him to speech therapy. He has always had a penchant for pretty blondes. Even when he was a very small boy, he would blush and grin whenever he'd get close to certain people of the female persuasion. His SLP is a young, very attractive woman with long, blonde hair.
So, when she came into the room and talked sweetly to him, his face lit up. Suddenly, he couldn't stop smiling (forgive the mess his hair is, we had just come in from the rain).
In many ways, he's just a typical guy!
As you can see, it was pretty much a bust.
Later that evening, I took him to speech therapy. He has always had a penchant for pretty blondes. Even when he was a very small boy, he would blush and grin whenever he'd get close to certain people of the female persuasion. His SLP is a young, very attractive woman with long, blonde hair.
So, when she came into the room and talked sweetly to him, his face lit up. Suddenly, he couldn't stop smiling (forgive the mess his hair is, we had just come in from the rain).
In many ways, he's just a typical guy!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Life on Life's Terms
Thanksgiving week was eventful. My parents pulled into town last Sunday, and we laughed and sang the night away (dad's hooked on internet Karaoke, which I am becoming quite attached to myself).
The next day after work I came home to find that Rich's temperature climbed to almost 104. We rushed to the ER and five hours later came home with a diagnosis of early pneumonia and a prescription for heavy hitting antibiotics which we ended up paying a hefty price for since he's in the "donut hole" with his medicare coverage right now. Finally, six days later he's regaining strength.
Thanksgiving dinner was good. Not great, because my man wasn't able to partake of any food at all. His throat (original cancer site) is very sore and I'm worried. Just last week he was eating roast beef and mashed potatoes! Now we're back to square one nutrition wise. I'm hoping it's just a set-back related to the pneumonia and coughing.
Daniel and Melody are happy. Whenever grandma and grandpa are here life is as it should be. We all enjoy each other so much, and it makes the dark stuff seem a little lighter. My mom helped her pick out a gorgeous red dress for her upcoming piano recital, while I stayed home and rested. The weather is mild, and Daniel is spending lots of time going on walks and soaking up the sunshine.
I usually put the Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving, but I'm waiting this year. I'm too tired and just not up to speed with my usual holiday happiness level. I'll get there, I know (pray) I will. Just not yet.
The next day after work I came home to find that Rich's temperature climbed to almost 104. We rushed to the ER and five hours later came home with a diagnosis of early pneumonia and a prescription for heavy hitting antibiotics which we ended up paying a hefty price for since he's in the "donut hole" with his medicare coverage right now. Finally, six days later he's regaining strength.
Thanksgiving dinner was good. Not great, because my man wasn't able to partake of any food at all. His throat (original cancer site) is very sore and I'm worried. Just last week he was eating roast beef and mashed potatoes! Now we're back to square one nutrition wise. I'm hoping it's just a set-back related to the pneumonia and coughing.
Daniel and Melody are happy. Whenever grandma and grandpa are here life is as it should be. We all enjoy each other so much, and it makes the dark stuff seem a little lighter. My mom helped her pick out a gorgeous red dress for her upcoming piano recital, while I stayed home and rested. The weather is mild, and Daniel is spending lots of time going on walks and soaking up the sunshine.
I usually put the Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving, but I'm waiting this year. I'm too tired and just not up to speed with my usual holiday happiness level. I'll get there, I know (pray) I will. Just not yet.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Make me a commune
I love that show on TLC, Sister Wives. It's about a modern day traditional Mormon family where there's one husband and four wives. I guess they're not actually Mormons anymore, since their church doesn't recognize polygamy, but they're part of a church that considers itself Mormon....or something. I don't know or care about all of the theological disagreements. But I digress.
I love it because of the community. I feel so overwhelmed by my to-do lists sometimes that I think a few extra "sister wives" would rock. Although, a few brother husbands might be nice for the heavy lifting. The women on the show are pretty good at that sort of thing too, though, so either way I'd be good.
My daughter hates the show and thinks it's strange that I like the whole idea. Yesterday she told me that she's figured out why I am attracted to the concept. It's my fascination with the nun/community lifestyle. I've often talked about how I could easily see myself as a Sister (and I wasn't raised Catholic. I'm a free spirit when it comes to religion, so the authority thing would definitely be a problem for me. It's all about the connections with other women).
Some of my best friends who also have kids with disabilities have talked in the past about a commune type of living arrangement where we all help each other out. I could so go for that. I feel isolated so much of the time. I really long for some additional companionship and help. It doesn't bode well for me that I'm also an introvert who sucks at maintaining friendships that require me to venture out of the house. I'm in a catch-22.
Seriously, though, I am feeling extra introspective lately about the future. Myself and my kids have "big ones" coming up in the way of birthdays. I'll be 50 in a few months, Daniel 13 and Melody 16 in December. I am starting to find it hard to sustain the energy for everything that needs to be accomplished in a day. Full-time work, nursing Rich back to health, therapies for Daniel, piano for Melody, shopping, laundry, cleaning....
I don't have an answer right now. Just vague images and longing for a large house split into apartments like the original home the TLC family had (they had to leave Utah when their show put them in the limelight and the authorities started making threats. Now they're in Vegas living in separate houses).
Since there's a fat chance of that ever materializing, if you have other suggestions, I'm all ears. And I'm serious. Mostly.
I love it because of the community. I feel so overwhelmed by my to-do lists sometimes that I think a few extra "sister wives" would rock. Although, a few brother husbands might be nice for the heavy lifting. The women on the show are pretty good at that sort of thing too, though, so either way I'd be good.
My daughter hates the show and thinks it's strange that I like the whole idea. Yesterday she told me that she's figured out why I am attracted to the concept. It's my fascination with the nun/community lifestyle. I've often talked about how I could easily see myself as a Sister (and I wasn't raised Catholic. I'm a free spirit when it comes to religion, so the authority thing would definitely be a problem for me. It's all about the connections with other women).
Some of my best friends who also have kids with disabilities have talked in the past about a commune type of living arrangement where we all help each other out. I could so go for that. I feel isolated so much of the time. I really long for some additional companionship and help. It doesn't bode well for me that I'm also an introvert who sucks at maintaining friendships that require me to venture out of the house. I'm in a catch-22.
Seriously, though, I am feeling extra introspective lately about the future. Myself and my kids have "big ones" coming up in the way of birthdays. I'll be 50 in a few months, Daniel 13 and Melody 16 in December. I am starting to find it hard to sustain the energy for everything that needs to be accomplished in a day. Full-time work, nursing Rich back to health, therapies for Daniel, piano for Melody, shopping, laundry, cleaning....
I don't have an answer right now. Just vague images and longing for a large house split into apartments like the original home the TLC family had (they had to leave Utah when their show put them in the limelight and the authorities started making threats. Now they're in Vegas living in separate houses).
Since there's a fat chance of that ever materializing, if you have other suggestions, I'm all ears. And I'm serious. Mostly.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
My Solace
I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles. ~ Anne Frank
I agree. Today was a beautiful, sunny, invigorating fall day. I spent it with Melody and Daniel at the zoo.
After months of chemo, radiation, CT scans and surgeries, Rich got good news last week. He still has to have a PET scan in December, but for now it looks like the treatment is doing it's job. The cancer in his throat is gone, and the lymph nodes in his neck that were affected are shrinking (and will continue to do so according to the oncologist). I am thankful.
So today I took some of that "take care of yourself" advice that I've ignored since July, and spent it with two of my favorite people on earth. My kids. Rich still isn't strong enough for a big outing like this, and truthfully, he'd rather watch football. So, as we have for so many years thus far, the three of us ventured out and had a really beautiful day together.
Time for me to hit the pillow now. I should sleep well tonight!
I agree. Today was a beautiful, sunny, invigorating fall day. I spent it with Melody and Daniel at the zoo.
After months of chemo, radiation, CT scans and surgeries, Rich got good news last week. He still has to have a PET scan in December, but for now it looks like the treatment is doing it's job. The cancer in his throat is gone, and the lymph nodes in his neck that were affected are shrinking (and will continue to do so according to the oncologist). I am thankful.
So today I took some of that "take care of yourself" advice that I've ignored since July, and spent it with two of my favorite people on earth. My kids. Rich still isn't strong enough for a big outing like this, and truthfully, he'd rather watch football. So, as we have for so many years thus far, the three of us ventured out and had a really beautiful day together.
Time for me to hit the pillow now. I should sleep well tonight!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Friends
Over ten years ago I read a book that opened my eyes to something I hadn't thought about when considering Daniel's needs. I'll get to that in a moment, but first let me tell you a little about the book and it's author.
'Does She Know She's There', was written by the mother of a girl with a severe disability related to cerebral palsy. There are plenty of personal memoirs out there regarding kids with special needs (and I have a bookshelf full), but this one stands out.
Nicola Schaefer was ahead of her time. She gave birth to her daughter Catherine in 1961, about six months before I was born. In those days parents were strongly encouraged to institutionalize their kids with disabilities, and she got that speech along with the advice to go home and have another child right away. I loved her response to that doctor, a deadpanned, "What are my chances of having another dud?"
She kept Catherine at home and raised her alongside the two boys that came later. There were no services available to help her in day to day care back then. Nicola was inventive and optimistic and effected change by connecting with other parents and becoming a disability activist in 1970's Canada.
I wrote her a letter when I finished the book, and got a phone call in return. She's a funny, smart Brit and she inspires me to this day. Currently, her fifty year old daughter lives in a home that she's shared with friends for twenty-five years. There's always a full-time caregiver living with her, often a friend or relative. So much for institutions, this lady showed us all how it's done!
The sentiment in the book that continues to grab my attention the most is the need to create a network of friends for our kids. That's an issue I hadn't thought much (ok anything) about at the time. It resonated with me, even though Daniel was very young. If I don't work at the introductions, his typically developing peers aren't going to know him.
Recently I read another book by another mother, Sharon Dzialo, and it made me think of Nicola and Catherine. Sharon's son was injured in a near drowning accident the year that Daniel was born. Her book, 'Ceramic to Clay', details a lot about the efforts she and her husband Phil make in providing therapies to benefit Adam. She also wrote about her desire for Adam to have a friend (she expresses it beautifully through his voice in the chapter Adam's Ode).
I've been lax in the years since reading 'Does She Know She's There'. I took Daniel to an inclusive Sunday school class with kids his age, and I worked with other moms at his elementary school to be sure his class was included in activities in a similar way. Over time, though, I've gotten lazy.
Sharon's words brought to mind Nicola's and I feel the need to start acting on them. How do I go about it? When Daniel was about 4 years old I asked a neighbor if her son would like to come over to play with Daniel a couple of times a week. (I was trying to follow my mentor's advice.) I was rebuffed and I guess my skin is a little on the thin side, because I never really got over it. It kinda chapped my ass, as they say, but it's time to move on.
At thirteen, the boys in Daniel's peer group can't drive yet. I'm thinking of starting by seeking out guys a good ten years older than him so that he can attend things like football and baseball games. Sort of an older brother scenario. So yes, I'm considering the Big Brothers program. I'm a little hesitant to call them, because I don't know if they've ever served someone with a disability as severe as Daniel's before.
I just don't know a lot of twenty-somethings. Naturally I want to find someone with maturity and an open heart. All I know is that now is the time to begin. I think I'll ask a few of my friends to keep me on my toes by asking how it's going every so often. Accountability always helps when it comes to keeping me moving.
Here's to friends!
'Does She Know She's There', was written by the mother of a girl with a severe disability related to cerebral palsy. There are plenty of personal memoirs out there regarding kids with special needs (and I have a bookshelf full), but this one stands out.
Nicola Schaefer was ahead of her time. She gave birth to her daughter Catherine in 1961, about six months before I was born. In those days parents were strongly encouraged to institutionalize their kids with disabilities, and she got that speech along with the advice to go home and have another child right away. I loved her response to that doctor, a deadpanned, "What are my chances of having another dud?"
She kept Catherine at home and raised her alongside the two boys that came later. There were no services available to help her in day to day care back then. Nicola was inventive and optimistic and effected change by connecting with other parents and becoming a disability activist in 1970's Canada.
I wrote her a letter when I finished the book, and got a phone call in return. She's a funny, smart Brit and she inspires me to this day. Currently, her fifty year old daughter lives in a home that she's shared with friends for twenty-five years. There's always a full-time caregiver living with her, often a friend or relative. So much for institutions, this lady showed us all how it's done!
The sentiment in the book that continues to grab my attention the most is the need to create a network of friends for our kids. That's an issue I hadn't thought much (ok anything) about at the time. It resonated with me, even though Daniel was very young. If I don't work at the introductions, his typically developing peers aren't going to know him.
Recently I read another book by another mother, Sharon Dzialo, and it made me think of Nicola and Catherine. Sharon's son was injured in a near drowning accident the year that Daniel was born. Her book, 'Ceramic to Clay', details a lot about the efforts she and her husband Phil make in providing therapies to benefit Adam. She also wrote about her desire for Adam to have a friend (she expresses it beautifully through his voice in the chapter Adam's Ode).
I've been lax in the years since reading 'Does She Know She's There'. I took Daniel to an inclusive Sunday school class with kids his age, and I worked with other moms at his elementary school to be sure his class was included in activities in a similar way. Over time, though, I've gotten lazy.
Sharon's words brought to mind Nicola's and I feel the need to start acting on them. How do I go about it? When Daniel was about 4 years old I asked a neighbor if her son would like to come over to play with Daniel a couple of times a week. (I was trying to follow my mentor's advice.) I was rebuffed and I guess my skin is a little on the thin side, because I never really got over it. It kinda chapped my ass, as they say, but it's time to move on.
At thirteen, the boys in Daniel's peer group can't drive yet. I'm thinking of starting by seeking out guys a good ten years older than him so that he can attend things like football and baseball games. Sort of an older brother scenario. So yes, I'm considering the Big Brothers program. I'm a little hesitant to call them, because I don't know if they've ever served someone with a disability as severe as Daniel's before.
I just don't know a lot of twenty-somethings. Naturally I want to find someone with maturity and an open heart. All I know is that now is the time to begin. I think I'll ask a few of my friends to keep me on my toes by asking how it's going every so often. Accountability always helps when it comes to keeping me moving.
Here's to friends!
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