NEWS
Mark D has some news!
AND his baby is a year old! I need to get one of those...(a baby, not a birthday)
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Last Christmas was when I first noticed that ugly soulfog creeping in, but it showed up in the form of social anxiety and a bound-up back. Holiday blues coupled with the worst winter cold I've had in years--that's all.
Then the worst semester of school--ridiculously difficult and boring classes (to me)with an equally ridiculous and boring professor who never missed an opportunity to disdain Christianity. Not something to look forward to three days a week--
Emily graduating and leaving for 10 weeks, learning to embrace death as a part of life--and all the while, that low-grade soulfog dragging me down, sucking the energy out of me. I slogged on, determined. Just determined that depression wasn't going to keep me in the gray.
A trip to Nashville/Kentucky pushed it down for a week--we had fun and not one bickering moment in 1500 miles. Just me and my two girls in a Suburban traveling through Arkansas (aka Lucifer's Hollow)--I'll be doling that story out one tidbit at a time!
But there it was, waiting to hug me when I got home. I can't think, can't remember a damn thing, and I don't really care.
Life continues, and the floors need refinishing. So there I was, on my hands and knees, running a belt sander for 12 hours straight on 50-year-old varnish. Yes, I used a mask. Didn't help. In 24 hours, my body had called it quits, refusing to take in air without making me pay for it in panic. Every joint and muscle hated me. The first 10 days of August exist only has pain and panic for me. Insomnia, night sweats and chills so hard my knees and elbows would lock up and Miriam would wrap her arms around me until I stopped shaking. Both she and Abby told Phil I needed to see a doctor because my shut-down brain was not comprehending( the lack of oxygen to my brain had something to do with that) not understanding--until I thought I was having a heart attack in the middle of the night.
Ladies and gentlemen, wear your particle mask and use the proper equipment when sanding anything. You can be poisoned by breathing in toxic 50-yr-old varnish. That coupled with a hormone defiency (can you be in the red in hormone production? Apparently you can...) took me down, down, down. My body finally stopped like a tired puppy does on a long walk. No more. Just. No. More.
And did you know that the right balance of nutrients in you body will work miracles? I glady swallow 30 supplements a day --for now-- getting my depleted system back in working order.
It feels as if I've been away for 9 months (yes, I get the symbolism) and have just returned.
I've missed you.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Opportunities for grace
My house doensn't feel like my home any longer. For the last 17 years, it has been filled with little girl laughter--where are they now? All grown up and moving on. I've always said that it is my job to work myself out of a job, but now that Em is launching her own boat, of course I want to reel it back in. I'm not ready!
Where are my little girls? Abby is in HIGH SCHOOL, and Miriam is in MIDDLE SCHOOL with all of those---MIDDLE SCHOOLERS!
Child advocacy is the toughest job you'll ever love...ain't that the truth. I can't save them all and that's huge. Finding a place to hold the pain so it doesn't overwhelm me--well, that's a trick that I haven't mastered yet.
My Tiger kitty died accidentally at the end of May.
Remember Bug? She had a heart condition that couldn't be fixed, and I had to choose. A crippled life that assuaged my guilt, or freedom from a dying body? She left us in June.
I have been battling soulfog for a good while now.
(If you don't know what soulfog is, just think about it for a minute.) Stepping back and turning over the stones that make up my life allows me to see just where I am.
In a minute, I'll be ready to embrace life again with arms wide open--but right now, I'll stay right here, under His wings.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
The first time I heard about Columbus was in February. My casework supervisor mentioned a foster child who was in the hospital with neuroblastoma. He had been in isolation since November. I just wanted him to know that someone cared, someone was worried about him, someone thought about him while he was alone in the hospital.
His doctors knew he needed a bone marrow transplant, but he would need someone with him 24/7. Without a family to turn to, they were not willing to do the transplant.
Raelene has a daughter who spent an entire year in the same unit as Columbus battling the same disease. When she heard about his dilemma, she got busy. A pool of volunteers from all walks of life committed to sitting with Columbus while he recovered, so he received the transplant.
The first time I met Columbus, he was so, so sick. All he could do was cry and sleep. Everything hurt him, even holding him, which is what he wanted. Sometimes all I could do was hold his hand while he slept.
Being with him was like watching a dead man rise. Every time I visited, he was better, although still in pain and so upset during any procedures, especially redressing his main line/heart catheter. He wanted to sit on my lap to read, to watch tv--he just wanted to be touched without pain. We did get to play basketball and he loved me giving me "coffee." How did he know how much I like coffee?
The last time I held Columbus was the day before he went home. He wanted to be held up to the window so he could see anyone and everyone outside and wave to them. While I was holding him, he noticed my nose piercing for the first time. His eyes got big and he asked what it was. Before I could explain to him what is was, he said, "Is that your line?" He thought is was my med line just like his heart catheter. He looked around and found a flower sign made out of sticky foam. 
Plucking a petal, he put it over my "wound" saying, "There. That makes it better."
When we played basketball, he ran to get the ball and stopped suddenly. "I'm running! I'm running!" Pretty wobbly and not real fast, but this four-year-old was running for the first time in months and it made his day. He kissed me good-bye (a first) instead of being sad when I left--because he was so excited to be getting out of that room the next day.
Not long after Columbus went home with his foster family, he got sick again. I visited him on Sunday, but he wasn't there. His body was, but he was already running with the angels.
Monday, June 25
Dear Friends of Columbus,
The doctor called me at 5 p.m. and told me that Columbus died at 4:07 p.m. He was a special little boy loved by many people who were not related to him by blood but connected through the heart as we cherished him and loved him through our Heavenly Father. He changed my life in that I saw someone faced with great obstacles besides his cancer and he still had a smile, a laugh and a hug for me.
Thank you all for investing so much time and love into this sweet, dimpled four year old. I am comforted in knowing that he is in a much better place and not suffering anymore and I will see him again in Heaven.
Blessings,
Raelene
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