Good News

It's possible I may have
underestimated the importance
of having someone with me
when receiving good news.

I knew I'd need you
to break the fall when
I heard the words,
"It's cancer."
Sure as I was
of what would be said,
I still wanted
your hand in mine
and was grateful to feel
your grasp.

I was sure this day would be different
and you had many responsibilities.
You'd done enough.
I didn't want to interfere further.
So I told you to see about your duties,
mine was just a formality.

How foolish I was
in my confidence
of hearing about clean scans.
I learned too late
I needed someone
beside me
bearing witness with me
to the light in the doctor's eyes
when he was a messenger of pardon
rather than execution.

Who knew joy loves company
more than  misery does--
or needs it to take up the space
where doubt may try to seat itself?


According to the doctor I saw yesterday the final test confirms I have passed by first full year cancer-free.  We are greatly relieved!

Going Under the Knife

Wednesday is the big day.  I report to the hospital at OMG o'clock so they can remove my thyroid.  All prayers, good thoughts, best wishes, positive energy, or groovy mojo, that you want to send my way is greatly appreciated. 

I am feeling as relaxed as anyone can before under going something involving terms like "neck dissection."  Actually, I am feeling more relaxed than I expected to be I credit prayer, a LOT of yoga this last week and a half, and the love of family and friends who have been wonderfully supportive, so many of you among them.

I hope to be back online by Friday at the latest to let you all know I am doing well and that cancer will be MY victim.

Well, You Look Great

One of the early tip offs that something was going very wrong inside my body was rapid weight loss not attributable to the standard disciplines of diet and exercise.  It's been a noticeable drop in pounds, in fact, I now have several pairs of pants I can put on and take off without ever undoing the button or zipper.

Others have noticed as well.  I get comments on my weight.  When it's from someone who has no idea I am dealing with the c-word I just try to acknowledge the comment politely and move on.  When it's from someone who knows my thyroid went completely ape-shit and then we discovered cancer in it I find I have greater difficulty just thanking them when they compliment my shrinking size.  I've tried humorously saying, "Thanks but I don't recommend the weight loss plan."  When they persist with some totally asinine response like letting me know they are jealous of my weight loss.  I tell them flatly, "The palpitations, insomnia, night sweats, high blood pressure, general anxiety, and potential threat to my life left untreated are less than worth it."

I am well aware I was overweight before all this.  I am aware I am still overweight in spite of now being able to slide my pants off without undoing them.  I am under no delusions about being svelte.  Nonetheless, I have heard this compliment offered stubbornly as if to suggest I'm probably not really all that sick, offered as some sort of consolation (Look on the bright side, you're not such a tub of lard anymore!), offered in envy as if I have found some miracle diet, and offered in a state of confusion because someone just doesn't know what else to say (I can sort of tolerate that).  Again, if someone doesn't know what's going on with my health I can deal with it.  If someone does, it's really beginning to piss me off.  Of course, that means I might develop frown-lines and we can't have that as I've learned how I look trumps everything else.

To that end, I am taking my cues from Billy Crystal's Fernando character.  "It is always better to look good than to feel good...and, Dahling, you look MAHVELOUS!"  It helps me laugh rather than scream.

A CURE!!!*

So ya know how people find out ya have cancer and they are sure they have the cure?  We've got our first one.  Mr. Lime was waiting for me anxiously to arrive home so he could give me the simple alternative to surgery involving the words "neck dissection" (and isn't that a fun word for the day, kiddies?) and follow-up ingestion of radioactive isotopes rendering me untouchable for a week or more. (I wonder if that comes with a complimentary goat-hair dress and some groovy temporary tattoos replicating leprous lesions so I can go about alerting passerby than I am "Unclean...unclean!!! Stay away!  I'm unclean!")

Yes folks, with just a little cannabinoid oil I can be cancer free!  According to this reputable source, it's derived from.....(looks around suspiciously)...marijuana!  In case we're worried about the hallucinogenic effects we are to fear no more because the oil distills out all the nasty stuff and leaves us with the godly bits intended for our health and healing.

I kid you not.  This was the recommendation given to us.

Here then is the subsequent conversation at Chez Lime.

Mr. Lime: I'm telling ya, this is it...we have to move to Seattle now.  Forget the states where it's only medical marijuana that's allowed.

Isaac: We don't need to move I can hook ya up with all the pot you need.  I know about 50 kids at school who sell it.

Calypso:  Yeah, just down the block we can find four kids who sell it.

Me: Ok, you all are talking about moving to where pot is legal and everyone but me knows where to buy this stuff locally and yet I am the one regarded as the crazy hippie liberal.  I can see my job is done here....

One thing I know for sure is we had a good laugh.  And good laughs are good medicine.


*Cure may cause cravings for snack foods

May Day!

The day started with lovely sunshine and warm weather.  I was at school helping a class of second graders check out books when my phone vibrated in my pocket.  I had called my endocrinologist before classes hoping to get the results of my biopsy. She was calling me back.  I had to play phone tag and returned her call once the class and the substitute teacher filling in for a particularly inept coworker were both gone.

Over the last two months I have gone through many tests and procedures.  I've changed family doctors due to inexcusably poor communication and totally inaccurate information being given.  I've been on medication to deal with symptoms of the whacked out thyroid so I can function in daily life and they have helped greatly.  I have, however, noted changes in my body over this course of time.  I have found reputable sources of information and read up on my situation.  I have read reports of my own tests before doctors have been bothered to communicate with me.  In spite of the odds being in my favor and although I do not tend to consider myself a worrier I came to suspect what the results of the biopsy would be.  Nonetheless, nothing really prepares you to hear the words "confirmed malignancy."   Upon hearing them I called Mr. Lime at work and decided to go home.  One the way I had a bit of a cry.  I am deeply grateful to the friends who let me rant and cry as I made my way home and waited for Mr. Lime to arrive.

He let me rant a bit more, made me some lunch, and we sat down to watch "What About Bob?" together because I needed a laugh.  After the movie we went to the doctor to get the details.  The good news is I am told I have the most treatable form of thyroid cancer and the form which has the best long-term outlook.  For that I am very grateful.  Next step is surgery and if I understand correctly, that's when I will find out how much this thing has or has not progressed.

Because I need to maintain a sense of humor in order to not go nuts and because laughter is the best medicine (and eating an apple a day has not kept the doctor away) I decided to milk this thing for the day and get a few things done I haven't been able to do thus far. 

I needed an extra gooey hot fudge and peanut butter sundae....because I have cancer.

I need my son to pick up his shoes.....because I have cancer.

I need my daughter to clean her room....because I have cancer.

I'm going back to work tomorrow and tell the incompetent coworker he needs to get off his lazy ass and do his own damn job.....because I have cancer.

I need some new pants because mine are falling off me....because I have cancer.

I need a new bookshelf to hold my to-read pile of books...because I have cancer.

I need the holes in the basement wall to be repaired...because I have cancer.

I need the grocery store to run a special sale just for my order....because I have cancer.

I need the electric company to waive this month's bill....because I have cancer.

I need May to be full of perfect weather....because I have cancer.

I need Hugh Jackson to go ziplining with me...because I have cancer.

Ok, your turn.  Suggest some ridiculous or outrageous demands I ought to make.  I need to laugh....because I have cancer.

Frustrated

Three different doctors have said three different things about my thyroid situation.  One I have completely lost faith in.  The other two are brand new to me.  The only thing that is agreed upon is the need for a biopsy, which gives me at least until those results are in before I have to make up my mind about which opinion I am going with.

Oh, and I've finally met both my librarians.  One is lovely.  The other does not deserve the title in any way, shape, or form.  I find working with that one completely infuriating.  Today was spent in the company of incompetence.

Tonight I am just eating whoopie pies sent to me by someone who loves me and wanted to encourage me.  They came at a time when they were most appreciated.  I am very grateful for kind friends and homemade confections.

Self Medicating

So that 16 lbs I lost in the last two months was not due to my new yoga regimen or attributable as a side effect of a short term medication I was on for an infection. Nope, it's hyperthyroidism which amps up the metabolism like crazy. I've been constantly hungry and eating but still loosing weight, which if you take the night sweats, tachycardia, headaches, and shortness of breath away wouldn't be such a bad thing in my book. I dragged myself through work today since my heart has settled down thanks to the cardiologist I saw Friday. It was less than fun but I survived the utter chaos that comes from having to reschedule all the classes I missed due to my absence last week. The less than useful nurse at my doctor's office who seriously mishandled the way she communicated my mammogram results last spring is once again demonstrating her great competence in that she can't seem to get her act together in getting me scheduled for the next set of tests to determine WHY my thyroid has gone insane and thus determine a course of action for treating the problem so resolution of this problem is delayed for a few more days. Oh joy, oh bliss. I had to pick up some food for dinner and breakfast and I saw something else out of the corner of my eye. Although I am the nutrition nut in the house and rarely buy this kind of crap it looked good and I figured I'll never have metabolism like this again (since treating hyperthyroidism tends to lead to hypothyroidism and a major slowing of metabolism and excessive weight gain...can hardly wait for that) so what the hell.

I really hope I can somehow handle a yoga class soon (it's a big challenge with the shortness of breath) so I can deal with this complete frustration in a healthier way.

This Does Not Make My Top 10 List for Fun Ways to Avoid Going to Work

This morning I was on my way to work when I pulled the car over, called my principal and let her know I would not be in to work because I was not feeling at all well.  I went home.  Mr. Lime returned from his place of employ and then we went to my doctor's because my heart was galloping along like a Triple Crown winner and driving was exhausting.  It was disconcerting to say the least.  My doctor indicated that I was not to pass Go or collect $200 but instead I was to hustle myself off to the cardiologist's office.  As if I didn't think my pulse was already quickened sufficiently that little extra kick of adrenalin nudged it ever higher such that if my ticker were a thoroughbred a few bucks placed on my little pony would have yielded nicely in lieu of the Monopoly salary.

While sitting in the cardiologist's office gasping for breath and feeling my heart trying to pound out of my chest I gazed around and realized the mean age of my fellow patients was close to double my own.  I whispered to Mr. Lime that it was making me feel damned old.  His word of comfort was, "But honey, YOU are the hottie in the room."  Great!  So compared to octogenarians I am hot.  Wheeee!  In truth it made me laugh and I did need that.

What came next, as I continued to ponder my own mortality I could have done without.  A little old lady made her way toward me and invited me to read a little pamphlet she had explaining how I could be sure I was going to heaven when I died.  She offered said pamphlet with the words, "We don't know how much time we have left."  Thanks, sister.  I'm blessed. (insert audible eye roll)

I.kid.you.not.

Seriously, I'm creative but even I can't make this shit up.  I was glad Mr. Lime was there to witness it and share the absurdity.  He's also the calmer counterpart to my more easily riled personality so he (along with my berzerk heart rate) had a restraining influence on me.

In the end it turns out my heart is just dandy (couldn't be finer, in fact) but it was using rapid fire Morse code to let me know my thyroid is going ape shit. I was given some meds to bring my heart to a normal rate until I can get to an endocrinologist to figure out the wacky thyroid.  It is suspected that the stuff I take to prevent migraines may have masked the symptoms of hyperthyroidism for a while.

So how was your Friday?

Da Count-Thank God!

Two weeks ago I mentioned Calypso's friend who was undergoing surgery for a malignant brain tumor situated near his brain stem...a tumor they felt pretty sure had already begun to spread to his spine.  I asked for prayers, good thoughts, healing energy, anything positive you wanted to send his way and so many of you offered such encouragement.

I am so relieved to report that not only did they determine it had not spread to his spine but that it was a far less aggressive tumor than suspected.  The doctors believe a short course of radiation will neutralize any remnants.  This young man came home from the hospital after a week and a half and just a couple days ago made a major post on his Facebook wall to update everyone.  He will have to undergo visual training to re-coordinate his sight and physical therapy to regain a sense of balance but he is expected to make a full recovery in 4-6 weeks...."barring the sweet scar down the back of my head, for the laydeez," as he writes in his post.

His post is full of gratitude for the support of so many people near and far as well as his characteristic humor and good nature which seem entirely undiminished.  And with him, my heart is fully of gratitude that he has been spared the worst outcome and even though he has been through so much considers himself greatly blessed by friends, family, and God.

Birthday/Blogiversary

Seven years ago I gave myself a blog for my birthday.  I carved out this space for myself so I could have a place to explore my own creativity without spending a cent.  I'm so glad I did because you all have enriched me with your own experiences, encouraged me through trials I could not have imagined at that time, blessed me in ways I never could have imagined, made me laugh, made me cry, taught me things, showed me beauty I didn't know existed. I'm so grateful for each of you who share on your own pages and by visiting mine.

 I've been blessed to meet some of you face to face.  Without exception each blogger I've met has exceeded my expectation in terms of how wonderful they are in person.  I hope the future allows for the opportunity to meet more of you face to face. 

Now, if I may ask a very serious favor of everyone...while I am celebrating good and happy things Friday, a good friend of Calypso's is undergoing surgery to remove an aggressive malignant tumor near his brain stem.  Doctors have said it has already begun to spread to his spine.  It's a terrifying thing for anyone to face but it seems especially frightening for someone so young. He's a smart, funny, caring young man.  I know both he and his family would appreciate prayers, good thoughts, any positive energy on his behalf and I would as well.

Frequent Flyer Miles...

...I wonder if the local ER gives them out.  This was the first weekend I was at home in weeks.  Mind you the other weekends I was out were for pleasant enough activities so I'm not complaining about them being busy.  I will say I was looking forward to a weekend with no real plans though.

So much for that.  I spent Saturday afternoon with Calypso in urgent care, which referred us to the ER.  Saturday night was in the ER followed by a repeat visit Sunday night. Proper evaluation and communication from medical staff on Saturday may have prevented Sunday's visit.  Looking over the record on her chart I saw that Sunday night was exactly two years from when she was discharged from the hospitalization which commenced the horror that was her senior year.  There was an unpleasant swirl of emotions associated with that.

Good news is she should theoretically be better in 7-10 days and the nurse and doctor this evening seemed far more thorough than Saturday's crew. 

Lumps

They are tolerable in pillows and beds

or even oatmeal...

...not so much when they invade my anatomy.
Preliminary tests results were reported somewhat less than encouragingly.
Further referrals and testing will be occurring tomorrow and later.
I wouldn't mind a prayer of good thought sent in my direction.

And while you're at it I'll ask on behalf of someone else too.
G-man has had a very scary, life-threatening medical emergency.
I'd be tremendously grateful if you'd include him in your prayers and take the time to give him a kind word over at his place.

Running for Research

I've been amazed over and over again by how great my blog pals are.  You are talented, thinking, generous people who have been such a network of support and encouragement to me and to others in our own spheres of influence.  I've been so encouraged and amazed by the kindness shown me in the last year I wanted to try to pay it forward a bit by trying to help another blog pal in some of his efforts.

Van Kapeghian and his fiancee Abbe Meck have been in training to run in the Disney Marathon on January 8, 2012 and the Goofy Challenge the day after.  They are doing this in order to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society to support research and treatment of blood cancers.

Now don't let the names Disney and Goofy make you think this is an easy thing.  A marathon is 26.2 miles...and any marathoner will get all over your case if you round down to a mere 26 miles.  I know.  Mr. Lime has run two marathons.  After the first one he said, "If I ever say I want to do that again, shoot me."  When he said he wanted to do it again I asked, "Where is your ammo?"  It's no small matter to run a race like that.  MONTHS of training go into it.  Oh, and the Goofy challenge....that's another half marathon, 13.1 miles for the math impaired, the VERY NEXT DAY.  Are you kidding me????  The thought of that much running makes me want to cry....like a baby....for hours...sucking my thumb....rocking in the corner.

Why are Van and Abbe doing this?  Well, Abbe's cousin Alayna was diagnosed with Leukemia almost an year and a half ago.  She's been going through treatment all that time and is now in remission.  Better than that, she has been inspired to start running and swimming to keep up with Abbe.  Here's a half minute thank-you video she posted for Abbe and Van.



How cool is that girl?  Does she not rock the known world?

Now Van and Abbe already impress me for being willing to train hard, run hard, and work hard to raise the money for research.  They are caring people who give to their family and community in so many ways.  In case you still don't think they are cool enough to consider, last year they ran just the marathon and Van dyed his hair purple (his whole head, not just a stripe like I did!) because it's Alayna's favorite color.  Oh yeah...and at the end of the marathon he dropped to his knee and proposed to Abbe who accepted.  Here's the evidence.

All kinds of awesome in action

Van and Abbe run for Alayna.  Van wrote her name on his running shoes.  There are  people in my world who have also been touched by leukemia and lymphoma.  A dear friend and coworker lost her son to lymphoma.  You may recall how our office banded together to get her through an anniversary of his death.  Perhaps you recall one of my Aunt Bee stories or recipes, well...she was diagnosed with Lymphoma about a year ago as well.  She has opted not to treat it because she is 89 and would prefer to live her remaining days feeling reasonably well rather than undergoing treatments which will make her feel completely rotten. Van has very kindly said he'd write Aunt Bee's name on his shoes this year and carry her along in spirit. I also have a blog pal Phaedrous who has been fighting Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma for over 15 years.  He's got a zest for life that puts most folks I know to absolute shame.  These are all people who matter to me.  I would not be surprised to learn several of you have been touched by someone in your lives who has had Leukemia or Lymphoma.


So anyway, now that I've run a marathon with words, which is about the only kind or marathon I am capable of, I'd like to ask a favor.  As of the writing of this post, Van and Abbe are only at 58% of their fundraising goal.  They have until December 16 to reach their goal or they wind up paying it out of their pockets.  Abbe recently found out the store where she is employed will be closing permanently.  So that kind of hits the wallet hard by itself.  Van works like a dog as a self-employed computer/coding/webpage designing guru.  These are terrific people who have a wonderful sense of community and service and generosity.  If you are able and willing I'd be ever so grateful if you'd consider making some small donation to their cause, even if it's only $5 because it all adds up (but hey, I know no one will mind more than $5)  You can do so here. It's easy and painless, unlike running a marathon.  If you're not able but still want to do something I'd love if you'd spread the word and share their link.  If you're not able or willing, well that's your choice and I'm not here to guilt anyone. I still thank you for taking the time to read this post.

Where We Speak of Zoo Animal Wall Paper and Boys Baking

When you're 16 years old and nearly 6'2" in height there is a certain indignity in going to the pediatrician.  Having one's heart and lungs listened to by a person with Poo Bear on her scrubs and a plush toy clinging to her stethoscope seems a bit ridiculous.  It was all too much for my wheezing, gasping son.  God forgive me, this was too hilarious a sight to miss with my camera phone.  He swore he was comfortable but I find it hard to believe.

Once proper airflow was well on the way to being restored he perked up enough to start playing this nebulizer mouthpiece as a kazoo, which led to a game of "Name that Tune."  He stumped me on this one. I took a video of him jamming out on the breathing tube but my phone won't let me send it anywhere. Then he started doing other things with the mouthpiece that we just won't even mention here. Just trust me.  It was funny.  Aside from preferring the boy a nice healthy pink color as opposed to blue, I like how his brain works when it's receiving oxygen.

I returned him home for the remainder of a sick day and went into work late.  I came home to a warm-from-the-oven plate of melty, gooey goodness produced by Isaac.  If this is what happens when he is deprived of football practice I think he needs to quit the team and sign up for a pastry class.  Oh yes I do!

Da Count-Dear Doctor: Part 2

We have found a new doctor for Calypso.  Since I ranted about the old one some praise is due the new one.

Dear Doctor,

We want to thank you.  Thank you for reminding us what a professional looks like.  You see we had a horrendous ordeal with the previous doctor.  While we will always be thankful that he got Calypso started on a treatment which began to restore her physical health, the way he conducted himself became intolerable, to put it mildly.  He raped us emotionally and financially and made it out to be our problem all while keeping us waiting for 2-4 hours each time went to his crazy compound.

On the other hand you had a congenial office staff.  The charges we were told to expect we accurate.  We had no more than a five minute wait to see you (miraculous in any office).  You treated Calypso with great respect and compassion and involved her family in the process.  You carefully explained how her treatment would work and what signs you'd be looking for to know it could discontinue.  You dealt in facts, not fear and manipulation.  You were not put off by any questions and answered them all thoroughly.  You restored a great deal of hope to Calypso regarding her future plans and a significant amount of faith to her family that someone out there can help.  You did so in a calm, rational, respectful, compassionate, and professional manner.

You soothed some deeply weary souls and that, before any medications were dispensed, was healing in itself.

Gratefully,
Lime

Da Count-Some Answers

Over the last year I have made some posts about Calypso's health at times when the situation became overwhelming.  There have been many very difficult days, a lot of questions, very few answers, and next to no idea as to how to address her situation.  Last summer was book-ended with hospitalizations for her.

During the course of her entire senior year of high school she has only had 2 weeks when she made it to school every day that it was in session and for full days.  Both those weeks were short due to holidays.  She's had more absences this year alone than in all the 11 years before this combined.  She has simply been unable to fight off anything. Even when not knocked down with whatever germ of the week that seems to be floating around she has not felt well at all and has been plagued with a host of vague symptoms including a low grade fever which has gone largely unbroken for the entire year.

We've been to several specialists some of whom have taken us seriously but offered no diagnosis, one who simply said Calypso needs a psych consult because it's all in her head.  Ask me how many symptoms I wanted to inflict upon that particular doctor.  My girl has been through tons of testing in the process.

I've watched as Calypso has missed out on so many of the things kids her age would normally be enjoying, as friends have dumped her, and as she has struggled to keep up in school.  I've talked, listened, hugged, and mopped up rivers of tears (hers and mine).  I've told the rest of the family they are going to have to live with the nutritional changes Calypso needs because I don't have the energy or time to be cooking two separate menus.  I've got counters full of supplements trying to fortify this weakened child while we search for answers.

About a month ago we finally began to get some real answers.  It seems she has a long undiagnosed case of Lyme Disease and another tick borne illness carried by the same vector.  We have found a specialist who believes he is able to help her and she is finally under treatment.  It's outrageously expensive since insurance doesn't cover it.  The heavy multiple antibiotics necessary are also pretty rough on her in several ways.  The last visit was both physically and emotionally grueling and left Calypso crying in the parking lot for about 30 minutes after it all.

As my mom and I tried to console her, the father of another patient Calypso's age came over to us and offered some very kind words of encouragement letting us know a bit of his daughter's story and that though the treatments can be difficult and hideously expensive to not give up because it does get better.  He and I both shed a few tears and I thanked him for taking the time to give what encouragement he could.  I've spoken to other patients in the waiting room who have shared their own stories and who are so grateful to have found this doctor after struggling long times in ways similar to Calypso.

This week I am giving a really big count for finally knowing the name of the enemy, finding someone who knows how to fight it, being given a battle plan so we no longer have to feel helpless and hopeless, and for the kind words of other people fighting the same fight.

What Big Girls Are Made Of

It has been a very bad few weeks for Calypso health-wise.  She's also taken a big emotional hit, which is harder to absorb when your body is in revolt.   Isaac has an unusually high pain tolerance and he's a 15 year old football player being surrounded by macho athletes, trainers, and coaches (don't get me started).  Though he is typically a compassionate sort, sisters are considered a different creature sometimes.  Someone recently inquired about Calypso when Isaac and I were out and about and his sister was absent.  I let them know she was having a string of bad days at which Isaac added, "Yeah, and she's not exactly the tough type."  The person asking was a woman who likely weighs less than my left leg but who has a 5th degree back belt.  She knows a bit about tough.  The person intending to answer was me...I like to think I know at least a little about toughness.  We both corrected my over 6 foot tall defensive end of a son letting him know that the level of perseverance his sister has demonstrated in the last 10 months speaks to a considerable level of mental toughness and that toughness isn't measured merely by one's ability to take down a big guy in pads or ignore physical pain.  Here then is the toughness his sister is made of...


-She ended one school year and commenced the next with hospitalizations yet she worked full time in between.  


-She went to school half-time for the first half of the year and managed to keep up her grades in spite of being absent so much.

-She's kept on top of what her assignments were and finding people to borrow notes from.  On days when she had borrowed notes from classmates and she was too sick to go to school she took responsibility and made sure I had the materials to return to the school office so classmates kind enough to share wouldn't lack their own notes when preparing for tests.

-She has missed out on the overwhelming majority of social activities a girl in her last year of high school could expect to enjoy and was either forgotten or nastily dropped by a number of "friends."  In spite of a lot of tears shed over it has held her head up and found solace in the few true ones left.

-She has continued to offer her ear and her shoulder to friends when they are hurting. 


-She has been called down for a talking to by the school nurse who thinks she needs to stop faking and just gut it out and has had to endure the repeated rolling of eyes every time she makes an appearance in the nurse's office.

-Although she fought us for a long time she finally saw the value in going through some major nutritional shifts for a significant period of time.  She kept to it even when her father and brother brought foods forbidden to her, which she craved intensely, into her presence and enjoyed them in front of her.

-She has advocated for herself before teachers, school administrators, doctors, and when she felt necessary....her parents.

-She has bought running shoes in the faith that she's going to be able to get back to running even though a brisk walk wears her out on a good day. 

-She has found a way to smile and laugh and persevere (admittedly interspersed with some dark days) for months even though she has said she doesn't remember what it's like to feel well.



My son, she may cry more often and complain about feeling awful but when the tears are wiped up she picks herself up and keeps moving forward as best she can in spite of still not having answers and not knowing when or if she will ever feel better.  It may not be taking a hit from a 220 lb. senior on the opposing football team but that's the tough your sister is made of.  Respect 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.

Da Count-Timing

It's been fairly crazy around here, hence the lack of posting.  One bit of good news is we've had a neurology appointment for Calypso.  The doctor who was most highly recommended as being able to sort out complex and mystifying issues is notoriously difficult to get into.  I called on Thursday to schedule an appointment for Calypso.  The receptionist told me her first availability was March 8. March...8...  That's kind of a long way off.  My kid has been unwell for months.  I don't know if we've stumbled upon an underlying cause or if we have some new and scary thing going on and I'm supposed to wait until damn near Spring to even begin trying to get that answer.  I hadn't slept properly in days because of being sick myself.  I was just stunned by...March 8... 

It was the straw that broke this camel's back.  I sniffled in exhaustion and discouragement.  The receptionist asked if I was okay.  I couldn't even maintain a facade by pretending I was.  As tears rolled, I just said I was worried about my kid.  The receptionist said she felt like crying now but I should hold on.  She came back and told me she'd opened up an appointment on February 14 for another reason but she was giving it to me and putting me on a list to call in case there were cancellations.  I thanked her very profusely.  Then I hung up and just bawled.

An hour later I got a call, "We have a cancellation tomorrow at 2pm."  She barely got the sentence out before I said we'd take it and I was thanking her again.  She said she wanted to cry again.

Friday, Calypso and I saw the neurologist and began the process.  I thanked the receptionist in person.  She said she normally left an hour before she got the cancellation but had wound up working late.  She said she felt like when the cancellation came in we were the reason she had been unintentionally stuck at work.  The doctor seemed thorough and Calypso was comfortable with her.  Extensive lab work and MRI's were ordered. 

I knew it was hard to get into the office. I had an appointment less than 24 hours after I called.  I'd been warned that the office staff could be surly and the doctor quite aloof but was referred there because the doctor is the best in the area. The staff was obviously very personal and kind toward us.  We established decent rapport with a doctor who I felt explained things well.  I was told it might take a week to get pre-certification from the insurance for the MRI.  I got a call before I was home that we were allowed to schedule the MRI at our convenience.

It's a big, BIG count for having the path cleared of so many obstacles in ways no one ever expected.  Thank you, God.  And thanks to each of you for prayers and good thoughts.  The follow-up visit is currently not until March but things are in motion and hopefully headed in the right direction.

Happy Happy Joy Joy*

 *READER ALERT*  Do not attempt to read this post during a meal.


Diana is puking.

Calypso is nauseous and headachy.

I am getting over many days of "shitting through a straw," as my father so delicately describes it.  Now I am starting with some nose and chest crud with head ache, chill, and phlegm galore.

That is all.

We will be festering in our own juices and petri dish of pathogens in the corner over here.

You go enjoy your day/meal/blog reading/relative health/whatever.