Restoring Faith

I don't know about you but after the heart-breaking news out of Connecticut I have needed reminders of the good things that good people do in the world.

A couple of the folks whose blogs I read have shared stories that I just found today at a time when I needed to read them.  I offer them for your edification as well.

Michelle at The Surly Writer offers a smile because she can.

Kat at Seeking Sanity demonstrates how her kids understand the true spirit of the season.


Again, may we consider what we can do to be the change we wish to see in the world, to bring light where there is darkness, to comfort those who mourn, to restore faith....and then go do it.

I've Lost Count of Emergencies but I'm Determined to Give Da Count

Calypso has had a very rough 2 weeks.  She's been very ill.  We still don't know what's going on.  I have lost confidence in and respect for our local doctor after the way the most recent episode and requests related to it have been handled.  Calypso continued to deteriorate.  I very much want to avoid having her admitted to the local hospital yet again for a variety of reasons but it seemed we were headed that way.  With the help of an old friend a couple hours away I found a specialist.  Thanks to the same friend, who also happens to be a nurse I was able to bring Calypso to his family's house so that if an ER trip and resulting admission became necessary we were in striking distance of the hospital where the specialist practices.

Today was pretty bad and I thought for sure we'd be heading to the hospital.  Thank God for my friends.  They were able to get fluids and some medication into my poor girl and for the first time in days she is sleeping.  The nurse half of the couple has also graciously agreed to come along to the specialist's appointment to be an extra set of ears for me.  I need that because quite honestly, I am worn down and this is too important an appointment for me to miss something because I am not at the top of my game.  Calypso may yet wind up being hospitalized but at least if it's after the appointment we will be doing so not in a state of panic but because it's part of an overall plan.

I am profoundly grateful for the advocacy, comfort, know-how, encouragement, and love of these friends and counting it all.

I'm also deeply grateful for any prayers given or good thoughts held for gaining an accurate diagnosis and effective treatment so we can, once and for all, get our girl back on her feet.

Chapter 47 in the Ongoing Medical Drama That is My Life

In the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday I was awakened by a phone call that began with the words, "Mrs. Lime, this is Diana's friend.  She is having a really bad asthma attack and just used her inhaler which made things worse.  She thinks she is having an allergic reaction to the drug.  What should I do?"  Calls about flat tires on the New Jersey turnpike at midnight didn't cause my adrenal glands to fire nearly so powerfully and efficiently as that particular call did.  In a nanosecond I was fully awake.  I spoke to Diana very briefly and heard her labored breathing and that she could barely get enough air to gasp out a yes or no in response to my questions.  "Get her to the hospital immediately.  Take her phone.  Call me." 

May I just say Diana has some remarkably level headed friends who really impressed me with their care for her and their clear thinking.  Diana fought being moved so her friend called in some guy pals who literally picked her up and deposited her in the car.  They all went to the ER with her and stayed until she was released.  They called me with periodic updates and proactively made sure I had alternate phone numbers because they were afraid Diana's phone battery was going to conk out.  The girl who called me had the forethought to gather insurance information.  When Diana was released they took her back to the dorms and made sure she wasn't alone.  God bless each one of these kids because they were the most faithful of friends when Diana was in dire need and they did what I couldn't do for her since she is away at school.  So a few days early and I am doing Da Count now because these kids are about as count-worthy as they come in my book.

As you can imagine I got very little sleep last night and now that the crisis is over and the adrenaline has faded after a day at work I'm about ready to crash.  I got through the night and the day.  I give sincere thanks for Diana's well being and her excellent friends.  I plan to go to sleep as soon as I hit "publish."  All I ask is for some laughs in names for the serial soap opera/medical drama I seem to be in for the last 6 months.  I dunno...how does The Guiding Lime or House (of Lime) MD sound? 

Perceptions of Tragedy

Strangely enough, I was recovering from the first car accident I had. (For those of you wondering, I was a passenger that time.) All three kids had been sent to school. It was Diana's first year in Intermediate school, Calypso was in third grade, Isaac had just begun morning kindergarten. After they were gone I settled into the claw foot tub so I could soak my neck. In order to do so I laid on the bottom of the tub with my legs dangling out the end so the water could cover my neck. This meant my ears were underwater too so I couldn't hear the phone ringing. Half an hour later I emerged and heard it ringing. As I dried off, I figured whoever it was would call back if it were important enough. By the time I was done it was ringing again. I assumed it was Diana worried about her forgotten lunch. I intended to take it to school as soon as I got dressed so I still didn't answer the phone.

Just as I finished dressing the phone rang again. I finally picked it up. Mr. Lime asked me if I had the TV or radio on. I said no. He told me I needed to turn one on then he hung up to return to his own class of students. I went downstairs and turned on the TV to see the horrific events unfolding before me. Moments later I saw the first tower fall, watched the planes going into the sides of each tower, saw the second tower crumble. I gasped wondering about the friends I knew who worked in the towers and other buildings nearby. It would be the next day before we knew those friends had escaped to safety. We live in Pennsylvania but close enough to the city to be a commuter community. I was frozen in place when I heard reports of the unaccounted for plane which was thought to be somewhere over Pennsylvania. Many people don't realize it but this area of our state actually has a couple of what would be considered strategic targets. It was unnerving. I knew NYC transplants to the area would be pulling their kids out of school in huge numbers.

I got in the car with Diana's lunch and agonized all the way there as to whether to have her remain in school or to bring her and and the other two home immediately. I stood in the office rather dazed as I watched city parents rush the desk and demand their children. When I made it to the counter the secretary asked me if I was picking up my child. I said I wasn't sure but that she forgot her lunch. I prayed silently trying to decide. The secretary said they had not told the children anything and had put the school on a media blackout. I took a deep breath and opted for as much normalcy as possible, leaving the lunch with the secretary. I cried all the way home.

Isaac was in morning kindergarten and had to be picked up shortly. Until then I was glued to news reports. After bringing him home and giving him lunch, I sent him to play with Legos knowing that would distract him a long time so I could go back to the news. I kept the volume very low and pulled one of the doors of the cabinet out to block his view if he should wander back in the room. Sometime later my concentration was shattered by his panicked shrieks. Given the mood of the day it rattled my nerves more than a little.

I turned around to find Isaac wailing. I mustered up every shred of calm I had to ask him what had happened. He was unglued. Finally he calmed down enough to tell me a bead was stuck in his nose. I breathed a bit easier to know it was something I could solve, or so I thought. Unfortunately, no amount of blowing his nose made the bead budge. I couldn't reach it with tweezers either. I calmly told him I thought we'd better go to the doctor. He began to cry again before wailing, "Will the doctor have to cut off my nose?!" I wrapped him close in a hug and assured him no such thing would occur. We dashed to the doctor's office, which was busy on a normal day but today seemed like a madhouse. We were taken to an exam room where we waited and waited. Isaac settled in and then sneezed a somewhat "juicy" sneeze. Dangling just on the edge of his nostril was the bead. I fished it out with a tissue, found a nurse to show the bead, and we hightailed it out of there before we could be charged.

We went home and read stories and played together until it was time to get his sisters. On September 11, 2001 I envied my 5 year old son whose greatest perceived tragedy was a bead up the nose. I also feared greatly for him wondering in what kind of world he'd be growing up.