God’s Participation Medal

We make plans and God laughs.  Belly laughs.  Please

Don’t take this to be sad; we are learning and growing as we go.  I am always grateful to be able to mother and teach.  Always.  

The Intro:

We finished. We finished the school year.  We crafted beautiful relationships with our students and peers.  We navigated teaching with a mask, cleaning between every class, virtual learning, changes in state tests, taking state and national tests, many, many students and staff being quarantined, and a move across campus to a new classroom. 

We finished and I am  a worn out dish rag during canning season.  We finished and yet so much is still unknown. Living in the unknown is okay.    

Everyday seems to bring new challenges and new lessons.  I learned that working on the relationships with my students and peers is the most precious part of my job.  I also learned that all of the Pine Sol and Fabuloso was worth it.  I don’t feel like I was half the teacher I normally am this year, yet I pray my students felt safe, loved, and heard.  They’re going to be okay. 

Finger Update:

Libby’s finger is still healing from her venture into cannibalism (I know, that’s not appropriate, but funny).  She’s wearing the Mit of Shame everyday to protect her left hand.  

That giant white pillowy thing is her Mit.  It’s not perfect, but it’s working.  Her hand is  going to be okay. 

Van Update: 

My lovely Toyota van has been totaled.  I signed the release papers Wednesday, cleaned it out, and said farewell.   The front end damage was too extensive for insurance to fix.  So, it is gone.  It’s going to be okay, not the van, but we will be okay. 

Libby’s rotating seat lift is also totaled.  I cannot move the seat with her into a new vehicle for safety reasons- even though the seat itself wasn’t harmed.    It’s been in a wreck.   That’s a huge loss and getting it replaced is close to $10,000.   All the insurance companies involved are not sure they will pay for the replacement.   It’s going to be okay.  

There is also a deficit of appropriate vehicles for us to buy.   Finding a van or SUV that can accommodate Liberty’s very specific needs is difficult.  She needs a door that will open very wide or is a slide in.  Her body doesn’t always bend and  her legs may not fold while getting in the vehicle.   (I’ve been doing a modified version of the “Cop Dip” to get her upper half into our rental which does work, but it’s hard on her body and hurts.)   

The rental goes back tomorrow after over three weeks.  It’s going to be okay.  

I struggle with letting go and letting God be in control. Often,  I think I have a plan.   A big Plan. I’ve gone through all the what if’s and possible road blocks.  I like to think through the ifs and buts and oh no’s of any change.  I create a  plan and begin to believe in how it will work. I made a plan.   I had a plan and God laughed.  A career changing plan. 

I prayed since last year to be ready to leave the classroom and move up into curriculum work and leadership.  I prayed to make me feel ready.   I prayed to be ready for challenges.  After 18 years teaching, I was ready.  I submitted the necessary paperwork and was in the race,  but it didn’t happen.   

I was passed over.  Not hired.  Not enough. Just not.  

And God laughed- gently. I don’t carry fear around as my faith allows me to let that go.   But the bitterness and hurt I gained after the rejection, has been a Military size ruck sack through my days.   All of the insecure doubts were dangerous hitchhikers to my  daily life. 

What could I do better? 

What am I not doing?

What do I need to learn and change?  

What did the other person do  better than what I do?

Why not me?

Passed over. 

Not chosen. 

Not enough.  

Finally, I went back into prayer as bitterness is a poison.  After a timely conversation with two amazing educators who are also people of faith, I was able to find some perspective. 

I don’t think we’re supposed to try to make these big plans without taking our ideas to our God.    I wanted a change and move up.  I wanted a break from teaching because I am tired.    I wanted a new challenge.  I wanted. 

God has plans for me.  There are other races I’m supposed to be in.  This was my third attempt to move out of the classroom.  Don’t think that’s the plan.  I’ve come to peace with it for now.   I learned more about myself and how I lead through action and not words.  No matter, I am blessed to teach and serve students through my current position and I know great things are coming every day.  

And I have the swanky participation medal from my Higher Power.   We make plans and God just laughs as they have plan in place for us that we can’t see.   So we put our name in the race that we want to win in and God gives us the participation medal to acknowledge our growth, not our follies.  Winning isn’t about the big medal; it’s about the growing in between.   I’ll take this lesson and carry on, placing this new trophy in my shelf.  God laughs.  We make plans, and we GROW.

https://music.apple.com/us/album/masterpiece/1174317441?i=1174318362

Be blessed and know that you are a masterpiece; a single piece made from a Master. 

WARNING! Construction Work Ahead

      It’s the end of a beautifully stressful school year where we’ve been in-person teaching the entire time.   We’ve worn our masks, cleaned the tables, and had books in a waiting area between students sharing with other students. All to keep our students safe.  Knowing that I would be going from our school to pick up Libby has meant being very careful by using sanitizer, masks, and limited what I take home and what comes from the house to my classroom.  All to keep Libby safe. We’ve changed so much of our pedagogy and class space in an effort to keep all of our students and family members safe. This entire year has been a blind growth curve in the middle of an acid rain storm while wearing a mask and wielding a spray bottle of Pine Sol like a sword. 

And we have survived and dare I say, thrived.  

Last week  I shared about Libby’s biting prowess and the huge teeth marks and infection she gained. Here is the catch up time line: 

Monday-5/4- Libby bit her right index finger so hard her whole hand swelled up.  

5/5- Her finger and hand are swollen and red. We saw a doctor and began antibiotics.  

5/6- Her finger and hand are slightly better- We celebrated Cinco de Mayo and saw friends at church. 

5/7- Finger and had are worse. Red, inflamed, and puss filled.  Back to doc for more antibiotics. 

5/8- Red and angry infection in finger, but finger is better. 

##Pictures of the finger at the very end of this post to protect those who are squeamish. 

And then...

That Friday morning we were in a wreck.  It was an almost normal Friday as I had many water jugs to be filled and extra cleaning stuff for my classroom. My school bag, lunch bag and Liberty’s go bag we’re loaded as well. 

A lady, my new friend, ran a stop sign and hit us. This very sweet and apologetic woman was so upset about the fender bender with our van; even more so after she saw Libby in the van. 

  

Libby was with me, and we got into a wreck. 

I couldn’t open my door or the windows.  Libby didn’t move at all. 

Libby. Was. With. Me. There were water jugs and parts of our food, her pill container, and daily supplies were everywhere. 

 Libby was with me. She was with me in her chair lift seat with her harness and seatbelt on. She was also propped up on her Star Wars pillows as normal, plus an extra one for her very iced and wrapped left hand.  

After the collision,  on Liberty’s chair move at all.  Her pillow was in place.  Her hand was exactly where I had propped it up. Everything else was in the back under the wheelchair, under seats, across the front passers seat.  Stuff was everywhere, but nothing in Liberty’s seat had moved.  

When I finally crawled across to get out and check on her, she smiled a little and that was it.   No surprise, fear, or painful upset to be shared. Apraxia is a gift at this moment.  I did a body check and she was okay.   She was okay.  And I had hard waves of sobbing.   Ugly crying.  She.Is.Okay. 

https://youtu.be/8-vZlrBYLSU truly a “Broken Road”....

While we exchanged insurance and informed the police officer what happened, the wonderful officer gave me some salient advice. I need to get something on Libby’s chair or body that states that she is nonverbal, full assist, and has her medical information.  Her words echoed, “If you had been incapacitated, how would we know that she cannot respond, stand, or move on her own?”  

Well shit.  Sirens were going off in my head.  If something happens to me, first responders HAVE to know the hardware in her body and how to help her.  Shit.  

Humbled and scared. I am often humbled, but not often scared.  I place my fear at the feet of my faith, so real fear doesn’t stay with me long.   But I was scared.   If I had not swerved the other car would have hit straight into the driver’s side door.   It could have been much worse.  This could have been a “road ends” sign, instead it was “construction ahead” and “slow down”. 

Grateful that Jennifer and Caebhin for coming to get Libby.  

Thankful that the Tow truck driver gave me a lift. Ever so grateful that Rachael was able to leave school and meet me at the Collision Body Shop and let me son. 

 The last two weeks have been a treacherous drive on a rocky dirt road, with lots of construction work going on.   I was still reeling from this new road where Liberty biting her finger is a truly dangerous possibility. I didn’t realize we were emotionally in the middle of of construction zone.  Growth and understanding take work, so I better get a hard hat to match Libby’s protective hand  mitt.  That’s where I’m at as I admit that it is truly “a dangerous business...going out [my] front door” (The Hobbit.)   Dangerous it is. 

We were blessed- not lucky.   Blessed.  And I am humbled and grateful. 

Some links for getting the necessary information on the seat belt, wheel chair, or even wrist of your loved one.  

https://www.etsy.com/market/medical_seat_belt

Or 

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/808536939351404664/?amp_client_id=OErbAo5bLoS7Xa7mI1L8_DzVhKpxWLgvUIlmdkLgzprvjJbJD4-_No1LtZLraF8r&mweb_unauth_id=e1f47491&amp_url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Famp%2Fpin%2F261560690837469408%2F&amp_analytics=1*mqqc19*cid*T0VyYkFvNWJMb1M3WGE3bUkxTDhfRHpWaEtweFdMZ3ZVSWxtZGtMZ3pwcnZqSmJKRDQtX05vMUx0WkxyYUY4cg..

For a tough and wearable bracelet id: https://www.roadid.com/products/limited-edition-elite-cobalt

And 

https://www.stickyj.com/product/sport-strap-medical-alert-bracelets-for-kids-adults-aa2193c?child=aa1234&source=googleps&gclid=CjwKCAjwnPOEBhA0EiwA609ReYvyc0X6UAGqo5zpN1gyaUgCq04A2kPrzIpWOG6QvQqEY-RIByamBRoCoVkQAvD_BwE

Bling bling bracelets: https://www.laurenshope.com/medical-id-bracelets/beaded

Gird your loins if your squeamish...

Day 3 after bite.

Day 8 her very soft “cone of shame” came in.  She’s ready for some lightweight boxing now. 

Day 10 that bruising is real!  

Libby’s finger continues to heal.   It’s coming along slowly, but steadily coming along.   The van is at the repair shop and we have a cute little rental.   And we’re okay.  We are okay, and the road work continues all around us.  

Be safe and be blessed.   

Ileana 

Here Am I. Send me.

Rough Road

Happy Tuesday,

We now live on a world where Liberty can accidentally bite herself hard enough to break skin and cause her entire hand to swell.  This is not the road I would have ever chosen, but it’s the one we’re on.  

The last 24 hours have been rough.  Liberty has bitten her finger so severely that I had to get her checked for a break.  

Yesterday afternoon I got a call while I was in class that Libby was okay, but had gone through a Spastic fit and bitten her finger hard enough to break the skin. Poor Derrick and Mariah for dealing with this scary drama.  (She has bitten herself before as her left hand, index finger, stay very close to her mouth. She has not broken the skin so much, not caused her entire hand and wrist to swell due to the bite trauma.) She has also bitten plastic spoons, straws, and forks in half.  We don’t use plastics any more.)

She had an ugly shower and potty last night and cried through most of the night.  I wrapped and iced her hand.  She spazzed and bit her finger again around 11:00.  I slept with her using my arms as a defensive shield lest she bit herself again.  

Took her to our clinic doctor in Canyon early this morning. Getting X-rays are difficult.  Went through two sets of attempts before we could get a decent shot.  With the spasticity and the gnarly nature of her fingers, it’s hard to see a possible break. Getting her body into the needed position was a challenging yoga class into itself.  It’s easier for us to move and conform that it is to try to get Libby’s body to do so. The Radiologist doesn’t believe she has any breaks.  Thank goodness. 

We left the clinic to get the script for antibiotics as bites of all types are dangerous magnets for infection.  Love our little Canyon clinic.  We did come home with a finger brace which she managed to get off of her finger before we made it home.   

I did ask the Nurse Practitioner for a Liberty size “cone of shame”.  Apparently that’s not appropriate, but it was funny. 

So, here we are.  We lost the day as I couldn’t leave her to go to school this afternoon.  Didn’t help that I ugly cried in front of the nurses and the NP.  This opened a new set of worries for Libby’s health.  

What a crazy day in a life where Liberty has taken me to many crazy days.   We made it home around noon and she napped.  I dozed in between checking on her with her hand wrapped up and iced as if she were a boxer coming out of the ring. 

So, that’s the day in a life with Liberty.  I can curl up and cry or I can admit what an incredibly rough road we’ve been on and understand that all of us are on our rocky road.   

Sometimes I go down an emotional path where I believe God is punishing me or that I’ve done something so terribly wrong that Liberty’s body has gone through so much because of me.  I don’t believe that is how God works. Her physical struggles are not my punishment.  They are just part of journey. 

We’ve all got detours and construction areas that others may not even know about.  The paths we walk are not easy, but they are ours to learn from and grow through.   

But seriously she bit her finger so incredibly hard.   That detour wasn’t  on the map at all! Not sure how this will change our daily care of Liberty, but we will learn our way through it.  No other way but through.  

  Pray for and embrace the people around you.  Pray for and embrace the rocky road your on. Pray for and be embraced by the others around you.   

https://youtu.be/66DdsXfituQ

This life is so unbelievable at times that we really and truly need each other.   And maybe we all need spiritual hard hats to reach our destination safely.