Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Words

I have had this immense anger growing inside that has forced me to take steps away from many people.   So much in my life isn't fair and it is easy to dwell in the land of "why me".  That is not a place that I want to visit. The weight of self pity and the many negative words have been suffocating me. 

Words matter so much more than most of us realize. We, society as a whole, are force feeding each other a heavy onslaught of information which is incessant and, well, mostly ugly.  There is so much ugliness being said, typed, tweeted, snapped, and grammed that I fear I am unable to keep up.  By ugliess, I mean the negative and erroneous, the words said to be funny, which are really mean, the banter that puts one group down to make another feel good, and the constant sharing of uneducated opinions. This is part of my recent distance from Facebook and Twitter.  

The words spewn by so many through all media formats is almost guaranteeing that future psychologists have a full and hearty schedule.  We are feeding the world so much negative and not truly communicating while we are in each other's presence.

This is the world that our children are growing in and preparing to take over.  This is the atmosphere that is choking the positive and hopefilled world that I choose to live in.  

I choose to believe the best of all and that most people are truly doing the very best they can. I know my own naivety is risky, but I love my rose colored glasses. I'd rather have a heart that has hope than carry the weight of anger, resentment, and distrust. 


This is it.  This year is the one that I am claiming for all our beloveds.  This year we will set and reach goals.  This year we will embrace the growth as it comes from success, failure, and in between.  This year we will love ourselves and release the doubt, fear, guilt, and simply believe.  This year I will not let the struggle that is our life with Liberty drown my heart; I will let only the golden moments surround me with hope. 

I am strongly encouraging everyone to write their goals down.  There is power in words, chose to exemplify that power by writing down your plan for this year.  Not New Years platitudes, but real, discernible goals. 
Here are mine:
One physical- I will focus on strengthing my body at least four days a week. I will not allow my emotions to control my eating.
One professional- I will read and implement strategies and structures from at least one professional book a month. 
One emotional- I will not allow others who live in Negativeville to take me with them. I must believe I am worth more than that.
One spiritual- I will schedule time to write, read, and create for pleasure. I will write no less than 200 words a day, everyday. 

http://www.npr.org/sections/ed/2015/12/29/460143133/how-writing-down-specific-goals-can-empower-you

Join me and take the positive power of words through to 2016.

Friday, November 13, 2015

Fair as Fair Can Be


So
Much
In 
This 
Life 
Isn't 
Fair. 
Here's my list of things that are not fair....

I made such a list and had to delete it.  Said list was way too depressing. Right now one of the most unfair, tantrum worthy things is that Libby had to have her Deep Brain Stimulators' batteries replaced only 15 months since they were implanted. 

Libby had been at a very high setting for over six months which apparently wore her batteries down much faster than expected. In early October, we went to have her quarterly appointment for DBS check and Botox, the nurse asked whether or not her right battery, "should be on".  I had to leave the room before I threw up on everyone. Ugh.  Her battery hadn't been working for awhile and I had missed it.  I had blamed her increased spasticity and apraxia on her needing her Botox and the demanding schedule of her first semester of college. 
This is loopy picture #1caught between whines. 

We had been living her dream. We were going to work and both of our daughters were going to college full time. The art that she's been producing is amazing. She's been making it.  I mean really making it in college, with help from Mariah and Jennifer. Libby had made it through high school which was not promised; her living this long is truly amazing.  


Liberty's progression of secondary diseases has changed so much of all of our lives.  She is steadily losing weight, and I promise we are feeding her. Her swallowing issues remain constant as is the loss of tone throughout.  The ever changing bladder and bowel problems are NOT fair. Dystonia and Parkinson's are evil and they suck. This isn't fair. Liberty's illness is not fair. We should not have had to take this time to get the batteries switched out.  Not yet. Not now.   But if not now, when?  And aren't we lucky to have the DBS already implanted? 

After surgery, Rachael and I got to see a glimpse of what Libby would be like without her brain stimulators on and without her meds.  It was awful.  Terrifying. Legs locked straight out.  Fingers, hands, arms and neck twisted in a completely horrible position.  Awful.  The spastic nature of dystonia sucks. 
Yes, her DBS makes a difference. Her pills, especially Sinemet and Baclophen make a huge difference. 

http://professional.medtronic.com/pt/neuro/dbs-md/prod/activa-rc/index.htm#.Vkdt7yZOKnM

With this new battery comes the "three strike rule". If we let her battery die once, we have to call and have it reset.  Second time, we have to return to the hospital for training.  Third time we let it die, they take the rechargeable battery out.  We are approaching  bad weather season and my new fear is losing power and not being able to charge the charger.   Guess who will be buying a generator- like yesterday.  Her battery charger will hold one full battery recharge and then it has to be plugged in. Serious business having a battery operated kid. 

There are  times when I want to throw myself on the floor and kick and scream in full-on adult tantrum style.  There are other times when I want to hide under my bed, or in some other tiny space, and eat ruffles. Most of the time I follow my never ending list of to-dos and keep doing. All of the time I am humbled and grateful for the life WE are living. 

Love this blog and what she has to say.  I really appreciate this statement. 

"God’s will is not an event that happens to us, it’s how we respond to what happens." 

So, any tantrums are postponed. I can't control what these diseases are doing to Liberty's body, but I can remain vigilant and do everything I can. We are going to keep moving. Always grateful and not looking for what is fair.   Continuing to do more than is asked and more than is expected. Be blessed and be a blessing. 

http://www.foreverymom.com/quit-saying-everything-happens-for-a-reason/

Thursday, October 22, 2015

October in Teacherville

Yesterday, I left campus at 6:15 to go to my night job of teaching. A wreck happened right in front of me.  The carnage barely missed me. I managed to back up, barely. The car that was hit stopped inches away from my front bumper. Glass was everywhere. The ironic part is that before this happened I was already a shaky mess.  Why?  Not Libby. Not Mariah. Not my Mom. Not my loves. It's school. 

In that split second when I thought I would be hit, I didn't think about my daughters, my mom, my loves.  I thought of the grades I needed, and if I had sent that email, and when do posters go out, and, I have to finish the data analysis, and, and, and...

The month of October is where the normal wear and tear on our teacher tires start getting thin and running rough.  We wear out. The numerous levels of stress becomes overwhelming. Layers of paperwork and grading to get through, searching for some kind of glimpse into the mind of our students. 

I cannot tell you how important this is.  Teaching is a marathon, not a race, thank you, Terri Morgan. There are going to be days that you feel like quitting and "going home because Walmart will always hire me", but you don't because you are "never so alive" as when you are teaching-Rachael Collins. "Focus on your passion" and keep going- Lisa Mote. 

There are still days when I wish I could do enough, just something right,  and could reach that one kid.  There are still days when I wish I understood why one child will do the work and another won't. When one child will destroy sticky notes because all they know is destruction and I can't fix them. When another child needs help, or encouragement, or simply to be heard.

Then there are the politics which come with working with other people. The damage we do to one another  with technology is truly sad.  Teaching is a profession where we create all other professions.  

 Then add the massive weight of increasing testing rigor and expectations, not to mention the incredible amount of student loans, money out of my check for the classroom, fear of failing these kids,  and you will find me empty. 

It is late October and I am
Empty. 

I just want to teach.   I believe in the ability of people to learn. I believe in kids.  I believe in teachers. I believe in accountability on all parts. I believe in doing everything humanly possible to make sure each child/person more educated, but many teachers aren't humans. 

Hug and support your new teachers.  Maybe share a snack and cry a little. Continue to admit that you  "don't know" and then help them find the answer. 

To me, real teaching is hard. It is to give pieces of yourself to other people and recognize that giving. To me, I don't know something until I've taught it. So, by my understanding, I come to the classroom ready to give.  And give relentlessly. And be empty- for tomorrow. I know the students and restore my hope- because I give them my hope.

All people involved in the wreck yesterday were okay. 

Be blessed and be a blessing.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Juggling Princess Pincushion

Hello from the land of Mom of two kids who are both in college.  Everyday we are trading out books, bags, hand and leg braces, meals, pills, potty times and homework.  

She is loving her classes and has even admitted to having "fun" in her new math class. Her reading class is interesting.  She reads lists of short passages and then answers questions over the text.  This is online work and either one of her scribes, Jennifer, or Mariah record her answers.   Her graphic design and beginning drawing courses are exciting.  She has really been turning out amazing work. 
The top is the model, the bottom is hers.
Ball and cone to work on shading.  I can't really attest to what all she is drawing because she is producing so much in her classes. 
Of course, her portrait of Her beloved Bryce just kills me. This is mixed torn paper. 

It's feels like we have adapted to college fairly well.  The longer class periods and the many hours of homework just make this juggling act more interesting. 

Liberty hasn't had Botox since June 3. Scheduling around all of the school schedules and her doctor's schedule was difficult.   We've had this appointment since early August; it was the first time we could get in.  
Dr. Acosta was happy with her feet and how well she is holding her ability to have 90 degree flexion. 

Libby has been fighting us over not wanting to eat very much, and we are not sure if it's more of her jaw hurting or because she worries about getting too big.  She has also fought over taking her pills, especially the relief pills.  They make her foggy and she can't draw as well after having them.  So, she's willing to be a shakey locked up mess over foggy brained. When she's locked up she can't really use her arms, so not taking her pills is a lose-lose situation.  Stubborn!

She took Botox all over her body and didn't complain much. She even got some in the bottom of her feet. She may whine to us, but she really is tough. Because her neck has been extremely tight, she is struggling to keep it up in class and to do her computer lab hours, lots of Botox was focussed on her jaw and neck.  
I hate seeing her hurt and locked up; it is only because she gets relief after these treatments that we continue.  So many sticks with so many needles.  We have thickening agents on order, just in case swallowing becomes an issue.

While the DBS Nurse Practioner was checking her batteries she noticed that one, her right side battery, wasn't working at full charge. I had to step out of the room.  Instantly I am nauseous and can't breathe. Her left side had been tightening, but I really thought it was the lack of Botox and the immense strain college has been on her body.  I missed the fact that one of her batteries are low and that's my job. 

http://www.medtronic.com/patients/essential-tremor/therapy/dbs-therapy/activa-rc/

She will have to have her battery replaced and there are now a rechargeable version available.  Instead of two batteries, one for each side she will have only one that charges both sides.  She have to wear a charger for an hour everyday. Apparently they don't have a solar charged battery, yet.  Then I could just sit her out in the sunshine. 

We wait to hear from the Neuro Surgeon about the date. We will try to get it after the semester ends.  It is a day surgery, which makes me less fearful of missing school. Her next Botox is in February.

Gotta smile at the Libby nest made for napping. 

Princess Pincussion is hungry and fussy. Typical day with college kid. 
Yes, those are Libby's legs hanging out of the bathtub at our hotel. When we travel, it has become safer to just sit her down into the water, sideways and bathe her.  She doesn't hate it, so that's a plus.  *No teens were embarrassed during this photo shoot.

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Perfectly abnormal normalcy


Two weeks ago Liberty started college. My baby, who was struck by a horrible illness years ago, was starting college. She was not going to be in the same campus and within very safe bounds. 
Now, now after the tons of hoops, tests, meetings, and paperwork- she is going. She is two weeks into her first semester of college. She is all over everywhere as she has twelve full hours plus some lab time.  She couldn't do this without Mariah and Libby's Aunt Jennifer.   So, very grateful. 
Jennifer and Libby chilling in the Art Museum. 

My baby is out there. She has pictures and stuff posted about her that I have no idea of.   She has a desire to skip her math class and nap.   She hates the extra long classes.  She wants a phone and a van to drive her in.  SHE wants to join Match.com. She wants to join clubs and stuff. She sees boys she likes and tells them.  She is surrounded by people who I don't know and who don't realize how important and precious she is to all of us!  
Here you see Mariah pushing Liberty away and toward both of their futures. Both sides of my heart going forward toward their dreams. It's a fuzzy picture, may have been crying. 
This morning it hit me while we worked on HER homework on a Saturday morning- this is normal. Liberty is in amazing hands, but she is my baby. My baby is off to college without my safe parameters. She isn't at Caprock where I can check in: physically, medically, and emotionally all day.  That's what happens when they become a legal adult and choose college.   My umbilical is double wound and stretched.
    We planned and prepared for everything: pill schedules, easily accessible potty places and times, hand braces, dealing with leg braces, feeding places and schedules, lab times, homework times, and even individual schedules for all of us around her.  I didn't plan for extra long classes and keeping Liberty's learning engagement that long. 
Libby is taking math, reading, and two art classes. There are study sessions in the computer lab as well.   She is learning to complain about things that really do hurt, her leg braces, and do it so loudly so that she can get out of class. This is also a normal. She's enjoying herself.
The top row is the model form, the bottom row is Liberty's. 
This one is cone and ball with shading.  Shading is hard because with her new art brace she has to change the angle of her hand, but she's doing it!

Three hours on homework this morning, guess I'll have to consider adding that to our routine.   So normal. And beautiful and blessed. 
*DARS services can begin, testing and vocational training, at the age of 18.  Waiting until your child with a disability is 18 May be too late. 
http://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/osers/rsa/wioa-reauthorization.html  these workforce programs can begin at 14. Visually impaired students can begin receiving services at 14 years old. 
*Section 504 recipients and those with physical and intellectual disabilities can receive accommodations in post secondary educable environments. 
*Modifications, changing the course material is not allowed in most campuses. Accommodating the material and environment to be more conducive for that students learning is. 
*It's important to start asking about your options before your child graduates.  
Be blessed.

Saturday, August 29, 2015

New Loves

I
   If I said that teaching was easy and that I always felt successful at making my students successful, I would be lying. Every period, day, year, and especially every student is different.  Last year I came very near to giving up.  I felt as if my heart couldn't keep going. 

  Getting Libby through her senior year following Deep Brain Stimulator implants, Grandmother falling and moving to a nursing home, my Mom not dealing with Grandmother being gone at all, new teaching position for me, and more stressors that I can't list made the last school year a challenging one- to put it lightly.
 
  I lost both of my Grandmothers within a six month period, moved my mom into a house of her own, the complete detachment of family members, loss of friendships due to work stuff- too much loss. 

  But what I gained was a chance to be schooled by an amazing group of students.   Every year I learn so much, this past year I was changed.   This year I was schooled.  This group of students had been with Liberty since her freshman year.  They made her their Queen and changed many other lives in the process. 
  
   Liberty has now completed her first week of college and everyone survived. 

  At our first Pep Rally on Thursday, I realized that the new group of students  I have are mine and will continue to teach me, as I will try to teach them. 
  
  So, I took down the Hall of Fame pictures from last year. I took them down because they are moving on. They have their wings and need to go forward. Their pictures will live with all of my other past loves.   

  I can't ever close a door to a student, it's my job to help them open many.   Much love and belief to Class of 2015- go and be extraordinary! 
Joy and promise to Class of 2016! 

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Gettin' schooled

The time is almost here. In just a few too short days school will be back in session.  I am ready to meet my new loves. Ready for the chance that every teacher gets to start over.  Ready to make a difference. 

Despite all the calls and appointments there is still so much in the air for Liberty. Her transportation, her attendant care agencies, and her newest doctor.  I wanted everything ready before her college years begin.  No such luck.   Letting other people take her, even though they are amazing and loved?  Ughhhh.  Isn't this the same issue that all parents face when it comes to sending an adult child into the world? 
Deep breath.
This morning we met with a Urologist.   There are a few things that we keep very close when it comes to Liberty's struggle.  We have tried to keep her dignity and  "princessness".  The inability to potty as needed and predictably, one and two, has been an issue for a long while.  We have a potty schedule and try to get as much fluid down as possible, but remember that she doesn't swallow well so drinking is difficult. That means that her fluids are thickened by additives which cause other issues. Frequency and unpredictability added to her constant fear of falling, especially in new bathrooms makes for greater challenges.  So, we have been waiting to see this new doctor since June.   

<http://www.pdf.org/en/spring07_gastrointestinal_and_urinary_dysfunction_in_pd>
Libby will be going through several tests in September and we will go from there.  Our goal is to keep her basic body functions working so that she has as much of a normal experience as is possible.  

Jennifer, Mariah and Grandma Linda have done an amazing job practicing to take full care of the Princess of Enigma. I am grateful and I wish I had more money to pay you what it is worth.   And Mariah, I have tried very hard to keep you active in Liberty's life while not having you be your "sisters' keeper". Yet, I am grateful that the schedule between your classes and Libby's will work out. Jennifer and Linda, it amazes me how your schedules and willingness coincide with times when Liberty needs help. 

I am allowing  myself a little more time to be on edge and worry.   My kid wanted to be in a dorm, she wanted to "go off to college" with her friends, and be independent. That is not our reality. 

 I have to keep in mind the blessing that Libby is here and has a chance to go to college.  She has a chance and I will make sure that she gets where she needs to be.  
I know that as long as we are doing what we should everything will work out; I'd just like a few more ducks in a row and more of a coherent plan in place.  We are trying.   We are damn sure trying. 
Meanwhile, I'm just a mom of an incoming freshman who is starting college and I'm supposed to let go.   (For this picture I endured a lot of whining and had to implement some bribery.) 

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Picking up bricks

I'm at I have been privileged to spend three days in Austin surrounded by brilliant minds representing many content areas.  Having conversations with and listening to speakers who offer vast amounts of knowledge has been inspiring and always humbling.   In attendance at the National Conference I encountered people with many varying degrees of physical abilities.  I can see in other people that there is always a way. People of all degrees of ability are able to be accommodated and their gifts are able to be shared.  I want the same chances for my kids, pretty much a universal Mom thing, but we were never supposed to be in this position. Who really is?

This is the state capital building and this feels like our life.   The building is accessible, but the ramp is way off to the side and many more steps in hot, humid Austin.   Parking Libby there and realizing that we are spending everyday going over, around, under, and sometimes bulldozing our way through the systems. It's like my habit of picking up rocks from anywhere or bricks during our travels, I have to carry more.  More over, around, under and sometimes through brick walls.  Yea, I have a brick from 6th Street.

There are some amazing people who work to serve people with different abilities; Libby just generally doesn't fit into any of their service plans.   Here's what I've heard in the last six months: "she doesn't qualify", "she would have qualified if you applied before 18",  "why haven't you tried....", "call this number and start a case or make an appointment",  "but aren't you on...", and my favorite "what do you really think she'll be able to do..."!  More bricks.

Today we had our meeting with DARS to discuss Libby's test results for their vocational program.  These results will help us get her SSDI started and open other doors. I am glad we went through the testing, although now I have on paper what I don't want to know.   I don't want to know how much Liberty we have lost, how much of her cognitive and motor skills are gone, or her IQ.  I don't want to know and yet I have to in order to move forward.  

The caseworkers were very careful about how they gave us the needed information from Libby's tests.  I am most grateful. 
Libby was found to be unemployable/, not ready for any vocational training. A new label on new paperwork. Even though this is what we thought might be their verdict, it was still hard to hear.  My heart hurts and I think that's okay.   I am a realist and I am on the front lines for this kid; I know her limitations.  

I wish there was a way for Liberty to return to her pre-Lyme self.  Since that won't happen, we will keep moving 
one 
brick 
at a time. 

We went to the store on the way home and I had to cry through a few aisles. All the school supplies and so many little kids.  All I could see was the Libby from before. Before. Rachael took Libby and I maneuvered my sad way around.  (We were out of just about everything!) At the checkout the sweet lady in line behind me asked if Libby had CP.  I told her that she has Lyme which has wrecked her Neuro systems.  Her daughter had CP. She asked how old she is and after I said 18, she told me that they lost her daughter at 16.    My reality just got checked.   We had a beautiful conversation and I wanted to keep talking.   I thanked her and she just smiled.  She said to "just keep going".  Yes ma'am.  This has been hard, but we are still going. 

Libby is not a test score.  She is not a label.  No person is.  We will take these new labels and scores and use them to open a few doors.  Libby is beautiful and creative and truly gifted at wooing people. 

We don't know where this path of stolen bricks will lead is. I just know we will keep
going.  Monday we meet with the local college about the accommodations Liberty will need. I pray that this will be a positive step.  

Heartfelt thanks to our DARS people for trying to help and for being gentle on This Mommy. 

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Perspective and tenacity

Rachael had planned a two night get away to Albuquerque several months ago.  We hadn't been able to go, just for fun, just for us, just to take care of a little business, and just smile in many years.   I have been so afraid of being that far away from medical coverage, our doctors, and our comfort that I didn't want to risk a frivolous trip.   
For over ten years we had been saving our change, with no specific purpose in mind, just saving it for some "rainy day".  This trip was our rainy day. We had enough to cover the hotel room and a meal or two. 

This drive up to Sandia Crest is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  Tears flowed without reason as I was so happy to return. I definitely have a connection to this place.  

Libby was different while we were there.   She just soaked it in and kept saying that she "need to paint".  We asked her what she needed to paint and why and she finally shared something about "colors" and "inspired".   Okay.  So we will be painting.    She was so in love with the many murals and graffiti she saw all over the place. 
This picture was taken at the beautiful Civic Plaza where amazing things happen.  

I needed this time, though it was short and hard; I needed it.  Traveling with Libby is always difficult.  Traveling with her in two casts and heat made it extra trying.  She did try to be a trooper and then Princess Spoiled Butt would reappear.     

Never afraid to cross a bridge...
We have seen the mountain top and it was amazing! 
That view though...

My reflection is that objects in the rear view are closer and larger than they appear. The fear of taking steps forward, toward love and acceptance, has to be set aside.  Living life with fear guiding is not okay.  Not okay to me any longer. 
  The last five years and Liberty's illness was has changed me.  I am much less of a risk taker and have felt more fear.

We are dealing with completely new issues that are not related to her casts-that are breaking me.  Life isn't fair and having another part of her body under attack as we begin moving into adult life and college sucks.   It just sucks.  And it's not fair.    We don't ask for fair. We ask for ways around and a plan.
Can't go wrong with this kind of smile. 

Regardless of troubles and triumphs the sun still comes up tomorrow.   We, all parents, have to enjoy what we have  and keep moving forward.  Perspectives change, but tenacity doesn't. Tenacity I have. 
Leaping forward...toward regeneration

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Home is a state of mind not a building

During our July quick trip to Albuquerque and back, one song kept popping up on the playlist.  I am super sensitive to music and what it says to me, so I couldn't hear this song.  It went through the playlist three times before I finally, on top of Sandia Crest, let it play.    
"The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert

It was this time four months ago that I was desperately searching for a group living home, assisted living, nursing company, resources, and general help to get my disabled 68 year old mother out of the home, that was falling apart, which she had grown up in.  To get her out of the place she planned to grow old in, before the probate, taxes and Medicaid took it.  This was four months after losing her mother, my Grandmother.  Mom had a time to be out by before the house was sold.  Preferably with as little fighting and pain filled drama as possible. 

**This is at the same time that Libby has her senior prom, is applying to colleges and for college support, and we, as teachers, are finishing up state testing and the beginning of the end of the year rush.   And Libby's graduation was looming, like the Hindenburg over my head. We were stretched in many, many ways. 

 I was calling, searching, and pleading for help and asking my mom repeatedly what she wanted, on coherent and also rougher days. She has physical and emotional problems which had gone irregularity treated, mostly because of her own fears and stubbornness.   **I am not one who she has ever before allowed to help her with her medical issues.**

At the end of April we got a call from the dad of a young man that Mariah graduated with. He owns rent houses and we all had a long conversation. He had a house that he was just putting back together. It hadn't been lived in since the 70's and needed everything.  Electric, water, sewage, paint, and even more. He said it might be a month, or more.  The earliest would be the 15th of May. 

Meanwhile, my mom, not always my fan, was caught in an angry and guilt ridden down-ward spiral. She was losing her home and didn't want to go.  She was terrified and called me everyday crying and then later angry and then later hurt. My mom has hurt people and been hurt. 

Hurt people- hurt people.

I had her name on three assisted living waiting lists, a plan to move in with my brother in Garland, and was just treading water.  Our landlord friend called and told us that if we could do the intensive cleaning, a little painting, and if mom could live without some things: flushing the toilet and water in the kitchen sink, then she could rent the house now.  By that Saturday morning, 5/2, we had a rented truck and a small army of friends loading her up.  

I had been packing several evenings a week based from a list of what was for-sure Mom's, until the official inventory and probate stuff was finalized. 

So, by May 2nd at 5:00, she was living in Happy.  We had all utilities hooked up within the week.   We did everything we could to be careful and leave the house without anything extra. We vacuumed- until the vacuum died-  and cleaned up/organized what was left, as best we could under the U-Haul time frame.  We had to unroll the chain link fence to get furniture out, around the locked parked cars, and had arranged to get it reconnected when we all had payday in two weeks.  I had paid for the fence to be fixed and apologized for any wrong-doing.    In my heart we were doing what we needed to, which was to get my mom out of the house before the due date and with as little drama and hurt feelings as possible. 

I was so relieved and excited to have had the chance to get my mom into emotional safety.   We got her connected to home health care, took her to the doctor, eye doctor, and began taking care of her. 

Things with the rest of the family have been ugly since then: blocked from Facebook, some police involvement against me, and since I moved Mom I have lost much of my family as have both of my daughters.   No blood family came to Libby's graduation, besides her sister, and she noticed. 

My mom has never really lived alone, taken care of her bills, been on a true medication schedule; we are working on it. This involves schedules and trust.   She doesn't trust anyone now. We are working on it. She is learning that "Home" is where she is loved and safe, not where she feels guilt, anger, shame, fear, more guilt, betrayal, and familiarity.  

 We are four months in, as of 9/2, and it is ugly and beautiful.   Mom has been more REAL and closer to functional than she has been for many years. 

There are so many blessings to be enjoyed and thankful for, much more than the materialistic stuff and blame that we can cast.   I willingly take the blame for all and ask that we move on.  This has been horrible. 

I asked everyone in January to remember Grandmother's words that, "it isn't how  people treat you that you will be judged for, it is how we treat them in return".  I had hope and I had faith. I miss my grandmother so bad that when I let her cross my mind I can't breathe. I am who I am because of her.  

I am full of hope that at some point this will all work itself out. I pray that the pain, anger, and grief that families fire at each other is eventually released and all can move on. Stuff is just stuff.  It is all too easy to attach grief to material objects.  

I know that I have many to protect, nourish, love, and take care of. I pray that everything comes to an end once the house that built me is sold. Maybe then we can move on. (It may have already sold, I don't know.) Maybe then we can treat each other as the delicate and damaged people that we are and move forward. 

Home is where we feel safe, accepted, and are loved.   


I know I'm stupid, but I believe that imperfect humans can love, and then hurt, and then love other imperfect humans. Isn't that why we are all imperfect?  

Again, I apologize to everyone I hurt in the process and how I have messed things up.   Truly the best hopes of a peaceful ending, logistics of waiting lists, and me taking on what I needed to were my hearts desire.  Plus, I believe that everyone deserves to be loved today, based on today.  We have a lot depending on us and we have willingly embraced.

Today is four months for my Mom and a new day.  Everyday it is hard and yet, we keep trying. We have to. We will be blessed and be a blessing. 

Monday, July 6, 2015

Serendipity and blessings

Life is funny.  Saturday we went to Hereford for a little guys 1st birthday party.   This was the 4th.  We usually have a BBQ and swim at our house but we moved it to get to be there for Mr. Zion Esca's birthday.   We missed his birth as we were driving back from Ft. Worth following both of Libby's
Implants for her DBS.  

Zion playing on Libby and then after her balloon animal. 

On this July 4th we were able to rejoice in Zion's birthday and meet the Director of Uniting Parents.   She is the sister in law of Zion's dad, Ben Garcia and Dr. Beth Garcia.  
<http://unitingparents.cohs.net>
Wow. Is this serendipity or divine intervention?  Is there a difference?  All I know is that I gained some fortitude from the amazing Maria Garcia, Director of UnitingParents. http://unitingparents.cohs.net

There are many doors that are barred, locked and barricaded to Libby.  There are others that have some weaknesses.  As we face three days of DARS Vocational Testing for determination of employability and numerous referrals to get the help we need to have assurance while Libby attends school, a blessing in an outstanding warrior spirit.   Pleased to meet you Maria!  

http://unitingparents.cohs.net


Monday, June 22, 2015

Libby's Hobbit feet

Tomorrow is Libby's Achille's Release surgery.   She has been nervous, scared, and almost excited.   Every new procedure is scary.   She shows how worried she is about something by refusing to help with getting dressed, by refusing to eat, by refusing to potty, by generally being a butt head.  Think of the limp noodle position that protestors used during the 60's.  What makes this a little bit harder is two fold: she isn't swallowing well so we are on modified soft and thickened food/drink diet and the kid has to potty.  You can smile now as we have practiced who lifts and who wipes.    
(We will be alternating those jobs using rock, paper, scissors...) 
 She knows we have been lifting and working out more to get ready for the dead lifting we will have to do.  At first she won't be able to stand on her feet at all, which means that when we transfer from wheelchair to couch, wheelchair to toilet, wheelchair to car, wheelchair to bed- we are lifting her.    Our practice sessions are hilarious, at least to us. 
  Always want everyone to know why we are doing what we are doing, here is a picture of her cute hobbit feet.   They're all turned in. 
This is the resting position, there are calloused in the outside of her little toe from walking. 
The hammer toes come along with her spastic retraction and her Parkinson's toe walk.  Her foot does not go to 90 degrees. Hasn't for a long time which is why we have worn AFO's, had Botox, and therapy. 

https://www.aofas.org/footcaremd/treatments/Pages/Percutaneous-Achilles-Tendon-Lengthening.aspx

Here is a good link for information.  

What a freaking blessed journey we're on.   And yes, I did shave her feet. 

Saturday, June 20, 2015

A Year of Firsts


I mostly hate today.  Father's Day is difficult for those raised in splintered homes. All of my life, I wished to have a chance at a Father who was there and was allowed to be there.   I was one of the first in my classes in elematary school that was from a single parent home. I had my Mom, my Grandmother, my Granny, my Great Aunts, several extra neighborhood Moms, and my Aunts. In many ways I was blessed.   I had so many a strong women to build myself from.  Now, they are gone.  Several of our friends have just lost her Dad, and we all have lost people emotionally.  This is for all of us.

Grief is horrible.   Grief reveals much and makes us capable of doing the terrible and the beautiful.  Dealing with it helps. 

 Grief is awful and can take over your entire being if you let it.  I know it has spent too much time in our little world as we grieve for those who we have lost to passing on, for those who have simply left, and for those who have progressive debilitating illnesses.   What we repeat over and over again to each other is "this is another first". 

After losing someone, regardless of relationship, you have a year of firsts. The first holidays without them, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Whatever holiday, the first time you make their favorite cake and remember they're gone, the first time you pick up the phone to call and no one who loves you will answer, the first "love you" card that goes unread, and so much more.  

The first time you want to call and ask about how to fix an outdoor electrical line, mend a fence, and which tire is best. The first time you want to call and ask about doctor visits, cousins, and update on Libby.  

The first time your heart hurts because another you love is mentally, physically, or emotionally broken and there is no answer, no advice and you need to make decisions. 

This part of grieving is not part of any one of the grief cycle but goes through  various stages.   I have wanted to call to tell both my Grandma's that Libby is having another surgery, to hopefully save another part of her,  and I can't dial the numbers because they are gone. 

Both Terry Collins and Bert Jennings are Veterans and are gone. Libby spots Vets and will beg for cash from me to give to them.  Then she asks to be wheeled by to give them whatever money she has. She then says thank you. I think she does this because she remembers talks about Military Vets and their need for respect for their service. Now, neither of our girls have a Grandfather.

I am proud of where I have come from and through. 

In this year of firsts without my Grandmothers and without other family members, we begin a fight to get Libby into and through college.   Along with supporting Mariah as much as she allows.  (Helping adult children through grief is worse.  She is in pain that I can't cure.  She too has lost.)

We begin, and continue, to show my mom and Rachael's mom, Linda, as much love and security as possible.

Our future is very much about taking care of those who hold us together.    We are very blessed. 

Every time after you've lost a loved one  you have to celebrate or go through something without your missing loved one, know that you have many new firsts.   Many that may hurt and many that will help you grow if you can let it.   When this happens allow yourself to feel; I'm not as good at this part.  Cry, pray, meditate, feel, react, and then send a thankful thought up that you had them in your life.  

Know this: most people do the very best they can do for family.   Come along with me and let the guilt go, ask forgiveness- whether granted or not- and move past it into the blessings. 

For all fathers, regardless of legalities and DNA, bless you! 

You are all blessed, though some may feel broken, now work towards blessing. Celebrate the strength given by those you've lost throughout the year of firsts.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Libby's Story

In the past several weeks we have met two new doctors, two new therapists, and Libby has attracted several admirers.  She seems to gather people to her and each one, whether new professional or random passerby wants to know her story.  It used to feel like a bite was being taken out of me every time I told the story.  Now, it is a review process that allows me the chance to remember and remind myself of how far we have come.

Libby was born on her due date perfectly normal.  She had RSV a couple of times as was going around in 1999, other than that no problems.
She met every cognitive and physical measure early including crawling out of her crib at 9 months.  She was so adventurous that she could have been hurt many times.  Libby loved to climb and hide. She would climb up anything she could, including bookcases, weight racks, and later tops of cars and trees.  She earned the nick name "Eagle Eye" as she is able to see things others miss. 
If there was a way to push the boundary, she would find it. She is the personification of her name in every way.  She didn't care about rules and hated being told to speak to people on command, and Lord help you if you wanted her to hug someone.  Liberty didn't perform on command.  Now, let her listen to a song once or twice and she would memorize it.  By four I could challenge her to see if she could memorize a song faster than me.   I could begin a song lyric and she would finish it.
We were outside people. We camped, hiked, worked in Palo Duro Canyon, and Geo-cached everywhere we could.   It was no big deal for us to play in the water in the Canyon, or return from hiking, and then check each other for bites.  It's awkward, but it is what you do, especially when the grasses are taller than your kid.  This is the Texas Panhandle and if the heat and cold don't kill you, then there are plenty of things that'll bite you.

5th grade, Libby was Commended in her Reading, was rocking her trumpeting skills in band, singing in front of everyone every week at church, and working on her basketball skills. The math and physical coordination genes did miss this kid.  Math and coordination did not come naturally. Socially, she preferred animals to people and would rather play than play girly stuff.  She is my little wolf.  
The night we returned from our last big camping trip, where we had been to Southern Utah in 2007 and Libby had what we believe was a seizure.   Mariah woke us up and seeing Libby mid-seize on the top bunk changed everything.  We headed to the nearest hospital by ambulance and our testing trials began.  Even though there was blood taken, there was little analysis and we were only given advice to get her seen by someone who deals with seizures.  We brought up several times the long camping trip and the land, lakes, and streams we had been swimming, fishing, and hiking in.  

The next morning we were sitting in our pediatrician's office and were then sent with referrals to get the EEG and EKG to see if there was anything neurologically wrong.  Over the next year Libby had visited hospitals in Amarillo and Lubbock had three more seizures, many EKG and EEG's, MRI's, sleep studies, and lots of blood work.  Nothing.  Everything came back normal.  We carried paperwork that stated she had an Undiagnosed Seizure disorder.

In November of 2007, Libby's Grandpa Collins left us.  She didn't cry for months.   She stopped drawing and writing her stories.

The next year, 2008-2009, 6th grade seemed fairly normal. August, 2008, we lost her Grandfather Jennings. Her big sister, Mariah, was a senior and the world was changing, so normal may be the wrong term.  Looking back there were many signs that something was affecting Liberty neurologically.  You don't know what you don't know. Her speech showed some weirdness, where she would drop off parts of words.  Interestingly, her singing remained outstanding.  Her ability to play her trumpet at the high level she had before remained the static, except for sometimes she showed an inability to sustain the breath needed.    Her handwriting got weird, really weird.    But this is the kid who invented her own writing that was only to be read by animals with paws when she was three or four, so weird handwriting- eh.  She started sneaking spoons to school in her lunch box instead of forks.  She also started using bendy straws, we call them "sick straws" as well.  Her shirts had some weird stains and I would find them hidden in weird places. She tried to shave her legs for the first time and called me crying because she had cut her leg, also not unusual.  Now, when she decided to use a razor to trim her eyebrow and called me with a thug looking brown into the bathroom, I took the razor away from the kid who was shaking.  Once we made it through Mariah's graduation and summer hit, we got Libby into singing lessons.  We did elocution practice at home, as well as some handwriting review.  We spent that summer building up Libby's self-esteem.  (I thought she was acting out because of the loss of her Grandpa and her sister graduating.)

I noticed a tremor in her hands and started watching her blood sugars and eating patterns.  Diabetes runs in my family. I noticed that she spilled food a lot and had trouble drinking unless she used a straw.   She had probably been having hand tremors for a while and had hid it.

In July, 2009, she started her menstrual cycle.  In August she passed her yearly Pediatric check-up and we were reminded to keep an eye on her emotions as she may be depressed and reacting to Mariah and many changes.  She also passed her athletic physical to play basketball and tennis.

We went on a regular hike, a long hot hike, and I basically had to carry Libby back.  She said her left leg hurt and didn't feel right.  I thought she was being a princess butt and was tired.

7th grade started and her teachers began contacting us about changes they were noticing in Libby.  She was referred to a local psychiatrist.  I made an appointment for the middle of October to check in with our Pediatrician. The school's diagnostician did some cognitive tests and called me on October 2, 2009, my 39th birthday.  She said that she thought that what was going on with Libby was biological and that she thought something was wrong.

By the end of the first six weeks of her 7th grade year, 2009-2010, Libby was falling a lot, her left arm was curling in whenever she ran, she couldn't get a spoon to her mouth, she couldn't rinse out her hair, her handwriting was illegible, her speech was disintegrating and she collapsed one day on the way home from school.  An ambulance brought her to the nearest clinic, her Pediatrician's clinic and all tests showed nothing.  She must be very tired.

We saw our regular doctor and then more test at the hospital in Amarillo, then on to Lubbock.  The Neurologist was in Lubbock, the same one that we had seen for the seizures. We were referred to Cook Children's in Ft. Worth.  We arrived on a Thursday evening in November, by now we are helping her shower, dress and feed herself.    That Friday, the first doctor we saw referred us to another and ordered tests.  We were to go home, pack, and return on Monday prepared for a long stay.

We were in the hospital for 14 days.  During that time every sort of test you can imagine was run. At first, they thought she had a very progressive form of early onset Multiple Sclerosis, or Huntington's, or a form of Palsy, maybe she had gone through multiple strokes, ALS, Wilson's, Meningitis, HIV, and more that we cannot even remember. Libby had blood tests, EKG, EEG, Lumbar puncture, Liver biopsy, more blood tests, and an MRI with and without resolution.

The MRI showed an area in her right frontal lobe the size of quarter which had undergone atrophy or necrosis.  Her brain was also smaller than it should be. Basically, that portion was dead and not working.  This area had been missed by all the other MRI machines she had been in.  The one at Cook Children's had more power or resolution.  What our doctor, Libby named him Dr. Hottie, said is that something had probably been killing that part of her brain for a long time and that she had slowly been losing her fine and major motor skills for all of that time.  It had finally reached a critical mass and that is why it seemed like she had fallen apart all at once.

Her Lumbar puncture showed something, a possible form of Encephalitis. He gathered a crew of specialists, including a Geneticist, who did all of the background testing possible.  Down to requesting the chemical results from our water system here at home in Happy.  They also had Carbon Dioxide detectors placed in our house just to make sure.  We asked again if she could have caught something during our outdoor exploits.

We were told at a staffing, think of the TV show "House", to start thinking about whether we wanted quality or quantity of life for Libby.  We were released on Thanksgiving Day, 2009, with two more referrals back home, therapy referrals, a prescription for a Parkinson's medication, Sinemet, and follow up appointments at Cook Children's.  We were told to get her baptized and prepare our family, at the rate her degeneration was progressing we didn't have much time.

The first appointment was a basic eye appointment further testing for Wilson's, or other genetic abnormalities.  Christmas happened.  New Years happened.  We were in shock and grateful to be home.  My little wolf cub doesn't do well in captivity.  On January 2, we saw an Opthmologist.  After going through the whole background, he performed his regular eye exams and asked if she had been tested for Lyme disease.  He ordered blood tests, didn't know eye doctor's could do that, for Cat Scratch Fever, Lyme, and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.

January 10, 2010 the results came back positive for Lyme through the ELISA Lyme test.  I called our doc at Cook Children's and left a message about the results.  He called back and said this could have been caused by Lyme. Our local Pediatric doc and Dr. Hottie agreed to a two week course of antibiotics to cure her of Lyme.  That is what the American Medical Association, AMA, recommends.

She wasn't cured.  We began researching immediately and found that there are cases world wide of terrible unexplained illnesses that have been traced back to Lyme. We also learned of governments' world-wide not treating Chronic or long term Lyme.   We also learned that there should have been a bulls-eye rash followed by flu like symptoms, although the bulls-eye rash does not appear in about half of the Lyme cases.  Libby never had a rash.  When camping, we showered in two's.  After hiking we checked each other.  Many, many cases of Lyme go unnoticed because there is no rash and no flu like symptoms.   We also learned that Lyme was rare in our area.  We also learned that many people die because Lyme likes to attack hearts.  Libby's heart is still good.  Her neurological state has been decimated.

We have continued to get our main treatments and testing done in Ft. Worth.  Each time there may be a new specialist to meet, different tests to be done, new meds to try, something.  In 2012, we met with a Pediatric Rheumatologist and an Immunologist.  They ordered a PIC line and a six week protocol of heavy duty antibiotics, since that was then what the American Medical Association recommended for tougher cases of Lyme.  She wasn't cured.

She has never tested positive for anything else.  Most gratefully she has not had any other seizures.

We have had our genes mapped and there is nothing genetically wrong with her.  She has been diagnosed with Secondary Parkinson's, Spasticity, Ataxia, Speech Apraxia, and my least favorite, Dystonia.   On medical paperwork she has Arthropod Borne Encephalitis.   Because her body has progressed in its muscular retraction and contraction, Libby now has Deep Brain Stimulator's.  We get the battery charge adjusted every three months, along with Botox injections.

She has had two sets of AFO leg braces, lots of hand braces and a neck brace.  We are on our second wheelchair and are looking into a third. we have gone through three different therapy places and are starting on our fourth.

She takes Sinemet, Baclofen, and Chlonazepam.  What started as a turned in left hand, has travelled to her left leg, then foot, then right hand, then right leg, the right foot, and her neck.  Parkinson's has given us an additional gift with swallowing issues that are made worse by the Botox that loosens up the rest of her body.

Libby's left foot has reached 90% Achille's contracture and we will be having bi-lateral tendon release in just over a week.   Then we can work on walking more.  We may also have a similar surgery done on her hands.  Anything to help her move better.

Before her DBS she wanted to dance at her prom and walk the stage, she's done both. 

Tomorrow we go for her required Department of Aging and Rehabilitative services Neuro Cognitive testing.  They have to prove whether or not she is employable in order to provide services.  We have to go through DARS to help get services for Libby and college.  DARS is the gatekeeper to many services for Libby.   We really still don't know how life after high school will look for her, but we do know that she will have a life.

Liberty wants to be an artist.  Her body is degenerating at a progressive rate and yet her mind and her personality are still there.  She has hopes and dreams and is the toughest person I know.  This is not my story to tell, this is hers.  We are still learning Liberty.