Thievery

1. Time
2. Energy
3. Joy
4. Spontaneity
5. Patience
6. Money
7. Space
8. Peace
9. Focus
10. Rest
11. Health
12. My daughter’s health, time, energy, joy, spontaneity, patience, money, space, focus, and rest.

These are the loot of diabetes. I think the last is the hardest to internalize. I realize that despite diabetes’ trickery and thieving ways, I must work with it. I must or I will lose more of the above in more copious amounts. But my daughter. The thought of her joined in teamwork with what most certainly feels like the devil is heartrending. This isn’t a two week thing. This is a

FOREVER

thing. Until death. With you throughout life. All of your life from here on out. And now her. I know it has been some time since her diagnosis. I know this. I know it shouldn’t feel so freakin icky and heartrending and terrible.

But it does.

I will always know what she had BEFORE she had diabetes. I will always know what my dreams were for her before diabetes. Before my dreams for her included 504 plans and syringes and vials and blood and hopes that “God I hope she doesn’t do what I did as a teen.” Different. Terrible. Crushing. Diabetes is crushing.

Diabetes is a thief to the person it shares a body with. A thief you can try to bargain with and work around, yes, but still a thief.

Diabetes is a crushing weight to the parent of a child that has diabetes. Sometimes you feel okay and you can pretend it is not there. But eventually there is that day that you realize you can’t move for all the fear in your heart, and you realize that the feeling of being free of that crushing weight was just an illusion. You are still crushed. Pinned by the crushing weight of your child’s disease.

This post coincided neatly with a neat post by Kerri. Go check it out.

Caught Wondering….

At what point did I cease to be a human? At which juncture did I lose my capability to feel? Is life always going to be this numb? Am I unconscious of any effect my actions or words may have on the emotions of others?

There seems to be a lot of death in my life lately. Gloom and doom. First Sandis’s dad. Of course his dad hasn’t died, but he is awaiting open-heart surgery. And fancy that, he is waiting to have his open heart surgery because he is also waiting for his sister to die. Sandis’s dad’s sister (technically Sandis’s aunt) has terminal cervical cancer. I remember her from many years ago. I remember her. I talked to Sandis’s dad’s Mom (technically Sandis’s grandmother) last night and I heard this most recent tidbit. I wasn’t phased. Really I wasn’t. And I didn’t even realize I wasn’t phased. Not until today.

I was discussing the news of this “aunt” with a co-worker (more like a friend than a co-worker due to her casual demeanor) and she mentioned that I didn’t sound upset. I callously replied, “I don’t know these people.”

(Light bulb moment occurs as I am recognizant of inner-numbness.)

Because. I don’t. I don’t know them. I knew them at some point many years ago and events interspersed with human relation complexity blurred this knowledge. I don’t know them. Does not knowing them mean they cease to be human with feelings and fears that I should respect?

This family has never been involved in Sandis’s life. This family is being torn apart. This family is loosely yet fundamentally tied in with my own.

At the realization of my failure to find empathy and my failure to initially realize I should attempt to respect this family and their current ordeals got me thinking. I am having surgery soon, and normally this would trigger a level 7 (at least) mommy meltdown. Tears, fears, ohmygodtheworldisending meltdown. It hasn’t happened. I, up until earlier today, attributed this to getting older. I mean, damn, I’m almost THIRTY. But is being older a license to lack empathy in any (some, all, etc.) of my affairs?

I’m thinking probably not. I think I have a lot to learn about how to be a human. Thank god I’m not yet thirty. I’d hope I have it figured out by then (at least).




(Guffaw)

September 5, 2007

My life is going to change on September 5th of this year. My noble neurosurgeon will be performing a partial laminotomy and microdiskectomy on ME on that date.

How exactly do I feel about undergoing general anesthesia and laying supine (something like that anyhow) while a surgeon I barely know and have had limited conversation with (In fact, I pay him to talk to me….) lays bare my spinal column to correct a terrible mistake of nature (or nurture?)?

Honestly, I am just hoping to heaven that I wake up. The last time I “went under” general anesthesia; as soon as they lifted the mask I bolted upright on the table (to the dismay of all attending) and asked what time it was. It took them quite a few minutes to convince me that I was in an operating room, communicate the time (my one true concern), and then motivate me to lie back down (“You may want to rest a bit sweetie.”).

Words can’t express. Words can’t express at all.

So this time I get to have surgery while on my knees. How interesting is that? And I wonder if I will wake up on my stomach (or my knees?)? Following said surgery, I will not be able to sit, or even bend over, for two whole weeks! (My poor, poor Bob, in more ways than one!)

I guess I am saying that I came to a decision. Actually my doctor came to this decision, and I chose to agree. I have two back doctors. One is a doctor that chose to work only with back patients focusing on intense rehabilitative therapy rather than surgery. The other is a neurosurgeon, a rather conservative surgeon (in my other doctor’s opinion) that operates only on the spine. When my neurosurgeon first recommended surgery, my other doctor was not quite convinced. So what do you do when two doctors disagree? You wait until they agree. Which I did. When my therapy came to the point that my doctor said he felt as though the weakness in my leg was progressing and we could not increase my therapy goals without further injuring my back….He suggested surgery. He then called my surgeon. My surgeon then called me.

So there it is. The reason behind my surgery treason (I know, I know, cheesy…). I managed to put off said surgery for an entire four weeks. Four weeks to prepare. Prepare as in sock away any additional cash I might come upon (guffaw) to help prepare for the September with 2 –4 weeks of income conveniently misplaced (or rather, not earned at all). Fortunately I have a short-term disability insurance plan, so really I will go one full week without pay and then 60% of my normal paycheck until I am back to work full time or back to work 60%.

It gets better though. Sandis and Gracie start school on what day? Oh ya! The day BEFORE my surgery! Splendid! How is that for planning eh? We couldn’t do it any earlier than that though, because Bob is spending the first week with me and he is booked up full through August (those damn hardwood floors!). Bless his heart that he is staying the first week with me. The first week aside, I still have to figure out what to do the second week. I won’t be able to drive for two weeks (hmmph) at least (hmmph) so I need to figure out how to get the kids to school. Will bus company’s change things up? More chaos to add to the first few days of school.

Me to Bus Company: Pick him up here the first day, but pick him up here for the next 5-7 days. Oh and drop him off here the first day, but drop him off here for the same 5 – 7 days that you pick him up here. (head scratching going on here) So what happens if they screw up and drop him off at the wrong here (my house) after I’m already back to work and he is stranded alone at home, but OUTSIDE of the home with no keys (and all my crazy neighbors)?

Add to that, I won’t be able to sit or bend over for two weeks. I’ve got the first week covered concerning chores (god I love you Bob) but what to do for the second week? Is Sandis the new chef of our house? I may actually have that part figured out as I offered to hire my ONE non-crazy neighbor to help me in the afternoons and evenings when the kids are at home with me. We’ll see how that pans out.

So what do you think? Am I traveling light speed towards certain disaster? Or is there a chance this might all work out, and actually improve my current situation?

As an FYI, my back doctor (the one that touts intensive rehabilitation) told me that he feels with the surgery I should be able to try and start running again six months post-surgery. Without, he thinks it would at least be a year, if not longer. Running is not my only motivating factor, at this point I’d like to be able to consistently walk without a limp, but it was a shiny glint in this entire choice.

Choices

Each day we are faced with a set of choices. Each day the result of our actions in relation to our choices clearly illustrates what is most important to us.

What is important to me?

Let’s take a look at what I did yesterday.

I started the day off by sleeping in. I wasn’t feeling all that great and felt that the extra 2 hours would do me good.

Sleep is important to me.
Being on time to work is not so important to me?

I fed the kids before we set out the door because they were past day care breakfast time.

Meeting my children’s basic physical needs is important to me.
Good nutrition is important to me, as Cheetos for breakfast is an excellent dietary selection.

After dropping the kids off at daycare, I picked up the phone on my way to work to call and say hello to Bob the Babe.

My relationship with Bob is important to me.
My own physical safety is relatively unimportant to me as I was on the cell phone while driving…..

On my lunch hour (make that one-half hour) I drove to Target to buy a pair of headphones. I had forgotten the pair I was bringing from the house that morning and decided I needed a pair I could keep at work because working without Jack White is intolerable.

Music rocks! And it is important to me
I love Jack White, and even though I called Bob (again while driving) on my way to get my headphones, I was bent upon resuming my illicit relationship with Jack White (well mostly with his music, but you get the idea…).

After work I headed to the endocrinologist to get my rather itchy 3-day CGM sensor removed. Obviously I am incapable of removing some tegaderm tape and the sensor myself.

My health and my diabetes care is important to me.
Money is not important to me, as I’m certain I blew ridiculous amounts of it on this 3-day CGM stint.

After spending some quality time at the diabetes center as they “professionally” removed the tegaderm and sensor associated with the 3-day CGM I drove to pick up my daughter from day-care. I then drove us both home where I spent a few minutes putting together a fabulous dinner: Salsbury steak, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob.

Meeting my family’s physical needs is important to me.
Sodium content means nothing to me in regards to nutritional value as the meal I served (aside from the corn on the cob) was microwaveable and LOADED.WITH.SALT.

The kids and I decided to spend some quality time outside playing after dinner. I actually spent the entire hour outside with them!

Active family time is important to me!
Seeing as how I spent the entire hour gabbing with my pal, active family time is less important to me than gabby friend time!

I believe that it is important to make choices that are consistent with your values. My choices are what teach my children to make their future choices. My choices can be their choices. My choices reflect who I am and what I want in life.

There is also something to be said about a healthy, vibrant perspective.

So there are two resolutions to be made in this regard. The first resolution is that your actions reflect your values, consistently. The second is the choice to find the perspective that highlights the good in your choices, rather than the bad.

Tilt-A-Whirl

This is hilarious......







I'm thinking someone doesn't like the Tilt-A-Whirl all that much....

It's Been A While...

Since I shared some pictures with you all.

And ya know? There is a reason for that! (All things have their own explanations.....Whether or not the explanation is meaningful...Well....)

My old camera was on the fritz, and then it took a turn for the worse and passed away a few months ago.

My new camera is a gift from Bob the Babe.... As he knows how I have to see what an outfit looks like in a picture before I decide if I truly think it makes me look fat or not (anyone else do this? ).

So, long story short, here's some pics of the family taken with the new, completely awesome, camera pal.

29

Ya…..I reached this 29 something milestone earlier this week. 29 years of me. Unabridged Sarah.

Next year I’ll be 30. Next month I’ll have had diabetes for 16 years.

On my birthday? I got a card with Jack White on the cover of it. Amazing. I have it hanging on my work computer. I can pretend I am him all day. See that is just the thing, I don’t necessarily find Jack White attractive, I just find “being him” incredibly appealing. So when I am fantasizing about Jack White, I am really not “fantasizing” (ick, oh stop me) I am fantasizing about living my life as the illustrious, genius Jack White. Whatever that entails. Is that creepy? Probably. I can’t say I ever guaranteed that this blog would lack creepiness though……

So, on to other things. I volunteered to help facilitate a “Parents of Children with Autism” support group that is held once a month. I’m still waiting to see if I made it into the Partners in Policymaking program. I feel as though opportunities to help other families have been given to me in such a way as they feel natural to embark upon.

And all I have to thank for that, I guess, is God.

I should also probably thank him for 29 years of life, 16 years of complication-free diabetes, and beautiful healthy endearing challenging children.