SHE Who Never Gives Up!

There is a card on my desk from a dear old friend.

It says, “She Who Never Gives Up”

I was quite flattered to receive it, as I did, and still do – perceive it as quite the compliment.

However there are some definite dangers to being, “She Who Never Gives Up.”

SHE feels the STRESS of life very deeply, and STRESS doesn’t go well with chronic illness.

Stress1

SHE fights for what is right – in a world that doesn’t always give a crap.

SHE persists until people pay attention, even when they don’t want to.

SHE advocates without ceasing for the needs of her child.

SHE finds it unacceptable when her child is placed in stressful situations unnecessarily.

stress2

SHE plays a doctor, a lawyer, a researcher, and a teacher – all in real life.

When people don’t do the right thing, SHE reminds them.

SHE doesn’t quit- ever.

Some people find that SHE is annoying – a real pest.

Some people wish SHE would just go away.

Some people would like it if SHE expected a little less from them.

Most people wish SHE didn’t expect them to do their job, and do it well.

SHE is not perfect, and never claimed to be.

SHE makes the best decisions she can- with what SHE has, where SHE is.

SHE tries to eliminate the stressors in her life, and simplify – although they keep cropping up.

stress 3 stop

SHE will continue to battle with all of her might – despite bone crushing fatigue  and sometimes against all odds – until her little girl can lose some of her unnecessary stressors.

Cowden’s Syndrome, and all its battles bring enough – the rest of the STRESSFUL situations are officially uninvited into our lives.

stress4 smile

SHE will rest when her little girl finds both her inner AND outer smile.

“She Who Never Gives Up.”

Thanks my friend, for the vote of confidence.  You will never know how much it has meant.

The Day Our World Changed…

Our world changed one July day…

It was the summer of 2005 –  I was the mother of an almost 2 year old.  That is when the world started over, and everything began again.

At the time, she received Early Intervention Services for OT  and Speech.

Our house was a busy place.

The therapists were lovely, and my babysitter was a delight.   The therapists often came in and out during my work day.

They left me notes, and I caught up with the babysitter – sure that I was doing everything I could.

Then the speech therapist started coming at night.  She wanted to see me more.  She wanted to talk to me.

“I think you should consider food allergies,”  was how she gently began the conversation.

“Meghan doesn’t have any allergies,” I replied.  I had dutifully, as the pediatrician instructed, introduced foods one at a time every few days looking for any hives.  That is what I knew to be allergies.  So now I was sure she had none- although her face was bright red and her belly distended several times its natural size.

“Look into a gluten free diet,” I was gently prodded.

And I resisted.  Every step of the way.

Finally I read the book “Children with Starving Brains” by Jacquelyn McCandless.  Maybe… just maybe…

“Go and see this DAN! (Defeat Autism Now) doctor, just give him a try…” prodded the speech therapist.

“You think MY kid is on the autistic spectrum??  No way.  She looks right at me when she… doesn’t say a word.  And she …” Well I finished the thought without speaking.  It went something like – ‘she spins around this house like a top – a complete whirlwind.  She doesn’t play, stack, or interact with any toy.  She cries all the time.  She leans over the side of the couch because her belly hurts.  She doesn’t speak at all.  She doesn’t behave like any of my friends kids.”

My heart sank.  I was an elementary school teacher with a Master’s Degree in Special Education.  Could I have been blind to my own child’s issues?

Well, she is way too related to be autistic I told myself.  But her sensory system is a mess.  She can’t tolerate noises, or sand, or textures.  She should be speaking.  And why is her belly so big?

So I read, and I read.  And I finished “Children with Starving Brains,” and I moved on to more.  “Biological treatments for Autism and PDD,” “Healing the New Childhood Epidemics,” “Evidence of Harm…”

And slowly I was rocked to my core.  There was a sense of gratitude for the speech therapist that had pushed just enough, and a sense of urgency for my child who I knew wasn’t autistic – yet… although there were some significant tendencies there.

So we took away milk.  Honestly it happened by accident.

February 4, 2005 I was showering after my first full night’s sleep since she was born.  I am not exaggerating one bit.  And, as I tried to determine the cause it occurred to me we had run out of milk the day before.  THAT WAS IT!

After enduring the on the floor tantrums, the crying, and the freak outs… we got rid of every dairy containing product in my house.

And, as her belly came down in size and softened up, there was this added bonus.  She started to speak.  I mean really speak.  She went from non verbal to almost appropriate over the next 18 months.  The constant antibiotics for ear infections that wouldn’t clear became a thing of the past.

But still… we were on the right road, but we weren’t there yet.

I introduced soy to supplement the milk loss, and dare I say things got worse.  There was this bright red rash all over her face… and everywhere else.  We quickly dropped the soy.

On to gluten.  That was so tough.  What a major life change.  Ingredients tossed regularly.  Gross food.  Costs unimaginable.  But we were getting somewhere.  We were making major progress.

Then there was that day in early July 2005.  I don’t know what set off the melt down to end all melt downs, but it was unsettling to my core.  I could not soothe my child.  She would not let me touch her.  The screaming.  The sobbing.

It was time.

I picked up the phone to look for one of those DAN! practitioners, and found that Dr. Elice in Long Island had availability that week.

Fortunately I had taped the melt down.  Perhaps the best thing I ever did, because my husband was immediately on board.  And its a good thing, because this venture wasn’t cheap.  $1000 consult.  $500 follow up, and $250 a visit after that.

Dr Elice

I was ready.  I am not sure if he met me with fear or admiration that first visit, but I presented him with a chronology of every medical document I had, tabbed, and noted.  If I was going to spend that kind of money… I was going to be sure it was worth it.

Dr. Elice had been a pediatrician for 28 years before turning to DAN!  He knew that something wasn’t right and something was happening to the children he cared for.  So he set out on a journey to figure it out.

http://www.aimintegrativemedicine.com/team.html

Meghan was one of his very first patients, and over the last 7 years he has proved not to disappoint.

He has spent hours upon hours, listening to us, looking at lab work, getting to know Meghan, patiently explaining biochemistry, and trouble shooting her areas of greatest need first.

At the beginning we probably saw him once a month.  That was back when there was a need for B-12 injections, and all sorts of lessons about metabolic pathways.

Now, he has his own office.  A practice to stand behind his philosophy.

http://www.aimintegrativemedicine.com/index.html

Slowly it had become more of a 2 to 3 times a year visit.  Our pancreatic enzymes that have saved so much GI distress, come from him.  He used his brain.  He treated what he saw.  He thought outside the box.  No need for a pancreatic biopsy – “Let’s just try.”

He is a far cut above those who believe to “First  do no Harm.”  He believes to first HELP them ALL.

research-plaque_great-graduation-gifts

We walked into his office today to familiar hugs.  He has a new office since we first met.  A new staff.  He is helping COUNTLESS children.

Today he spoke to Meghan directly for at least the first 15 minutes we were there.  Then he spoke to Felix and I.  We spoke about her medications, and our concerns – although the list is so much shorter than it was 7 years ago.

He ordered lots of lab tests – to try to get to the bottom of a few things.

13 vials of blood today.  We will try for the rest on Saturday.  And a 24 hour urine test on the horizon.

He understands autism, and while I know many friends whose children are deeply affected, he knew that Meghan was not to be one of those kids.  He knew that while she is metabolically similar, there were some significant differences.  She never received a diagnosis anywhere on the spectrum of autism.

autism1

He also understands PTEN. He knows of PTEN Hamartoma Tumor Syndrome.   He knows of its uncanny connection to many autistic children.  He knows of its cancer risks, and its vascular issues.

hope its in our genes

And, knowing this, he will not accept Meghan’s fate as predetermined.  He knows that I will continue to have her checked and scanned, but he intends to help us circumvent the inflammatory responses that will trigger a malignancy or an autoimmune response.

He will get all the lab tests.  He will send them to me.  We will strategize.  There will be new supplements.  Ones to help teach her body that it does not have to sit back and accept its fate as predetermined.

For us – he is the HOPE that we need.  The balance in this rocky sea of medical storms.

He is unique in that he loves my daughter- as a grandpa more than a doctor.  He is unique in the depth of his caring.  He is unmatched in the extent of his love.

Almost seven years later, I shudder at where we could have been.

Today we are thankful for one of the good guys.

Thanks, Dr. Elice for working for our kids…

Changes – big small, and in between

All sorts of changes… and today on Easter, one of the most significant.

easter1

My Mom said to me many times when I was a teen, that I would do more changing in my 20s than I ever would in my teens. She was absolutely right.

forrest-gump-320x180

I guess she didn’t want to overwhelm me, because she never mentioned the volume of changes to take place in your 30s.

You grow up sure.  You have strong opinions.  And slowly… they evolve.

I’d like to say the values I was taught as a youth are still at my core, but my expression of those values has changed over time.

And, while all that was taking place – I managed to meet the love of my life.

Sometime after we married we purchased a true “handyman special,” which we are still polishing up 13 years later.

Then there was this beautiful little girl – rocking our worlds from the very beginning.  NICU, colic unceasing, OT,PT, Speech, hospitalizations, chronic viruses, tests, doctors, surgeries – and eventually Cowden’s Syndrome.

She grew into a beautiful young lady – despite the odds stacked against her.  Her very existence changed my long standing beliefs on modern medicine, and strengthened my faith in God every step of the way.

My family unit is so strong.  We are incredibly blessed to hold each other’s hands through the twists and turns and changes life has in store.

Today was a big one.

On this, Easter Sunday, the Celebration of the Resurrection of our Lord, my family stood in front of the Moravian church and professed our intention to become members of their community.

moravian star

My history, my heritage, my core, was developed as a Lutheran.  My heart is now Moravian.

easter family

And their motto, “In essentials unity, In non-essentials liberty, In all things LOVE,” speaks to my soul.

We make decisions every day – guided by the power of the Holy Spirit, with faith that we are moving in the direction intended for us.

The fact we now attend worship as a family of THREE, leads me to be sure we are on the right path.

my prayers

My 30s have sure been a trip.  I have only a few more months left and I wonder what else is in store.  But heck, then there are the 40s to look forward to.  One day my mom will get a few minutes to sit still, and I’ll  grab a bottle of wine and ask her all about them.

Good Friday – for the “first” time at the age of 9

I grew up taking some things for granted.  And, when you are 39 it is quite easy to forget there are some things even the brightest 9 year-olds don’t know.

It has been a long week.  One of doctors, and appointments.  Lots of homework.  Running errands to try to catch up on our lives. Felix’s grandmother, who Meghan and I barely knew, passed away this week.  Emotions.  Pain.  The hearts hurt. The hand hasn’t healed quite yet.   Physical Therapy.  Lots of processing for my deep thinker.

I know Meghan knew this was “Holy Week,”  if f0r no other reason, than I had told her.

She participated in the Palm Sunday Service last Sunday and understood everything in great detail.

Wednesday our church set up “stations,”  where you could travel to experience Jesus‘ last days.  There was fragrance, 30 pieces of silver, bread, wine, a cross to nail your sins, a stone to imagine the weight of the one in front of Jesus’ tomb. There were 13 stations in all.  Each one a meaningful experience – traveled through alone or in a pair.

At each station there was a Bible passage, and a scenario.  There was a way to put yourself in the situation.  Meghan and I traveled most of the stations together, talking and sharing as we went.  Long productive conversation that night.

We did not make service last night, but tonight, we headed into the “Good Friday” service.

tenebrae

I had never experienced a Tenebrae service, or a service of shadows.  There was a huge cross of candles in the front, extinguished one at a time as various readings were completed.

And, knowing her so well I watched Meghan through the service become increasingly uncomfortable.

When we left and asked her about it, she told us she never knew the story of Jesus’ death.  She had heard it told, but never read from the Bible.  She had no idea the extent of His suffering.  She was amazed that He could still love us after all the awful things that went on.

Long, long discussions.  Just starting to wrap up.

My first reaction was guilt.  Had I failed as a Christian mom?

Then I realized, as always, things were happening as they were supposed to.

I was learning lesson upon lesson just hearing her speak.

We are so weighed down by the earthly problems, that we sometimes forget.  We sometimes lose focus.

Cowden’s Syndrome, cancer, PTEN, AVMs, viruses, surgeries, whatever the suffering,… we are children of a loving, forgiving God.

Jesus died to save us from our sins.  To lighten the load.  To eliminate the judgment and condemnation that sometimes weighs on our hearts – so we can concentrate on the important stuff.

And on the third day He will rise again…

it is finished

How blessed are we?  Sometimes I need my 9 year old to remind me.

Ramblings and Random Thoughts

thankful for the difficult

I am not who I was before.

Before there was Felix.

Before there was Meghan.

Before there was Cowden’s Syndrome.

Before there was breast cancer.

I am just not who I was before.

But every change has been part of a process, a transformation that is still taking place.

Perhaps the biggest change has been in my attitude towards others.

I try to surround myself with positive people.

Knowing full well that we all have our moments.

I deliberately seek out tolerant people.

Tolerant of changes.  Tolerant of others.

Life is short.

Judgement brings anger, hatred, contempt.

I have no time.

let go of the toxic

So one by one I have worked to let them go – the toxic ones.

And I cling tightly to the others.

But such transformations affect your whole self – your core.

When I was much younger I had ideas.  I was sure I was right – all the time.

Not so much anymore.

Now, I am sure that I make mistakes.

I am sure that everyone I truly love does the best they can with what they have where they are.

I am sure that everyone hurts.

I am sure that everyone struggles.

I look with a softer heart.

I see things from the other point of view.

Once I might have said that I found others beliefs to be “wrong” or “immoral.”

Now, I respect that others have beliefs and feelings that deserve to be respected – just like mine.

Maybe its the Cowden’s.

Maybe its the stress, or the fatigue.

Maybe its just me – growing up.

I tend to stay out of politics, and I don’t really comment on religions other than my own.

But I know I was raised to love my neighbor.

I know I was raised not to judge.

Really in the end – I just think if we all loved each other as sisters and brothers…

… well maybe more things would make sense.

I am not who I was before-

I am a work in progress.

I am surviving.

I am beating cowdens one day at a time.

I am embracing lessons learned.

I am wiser and more tolerant than I ever hoped to be.

Transitions

Transitions.

don't give up

It seems they are happening all the time, probably for everyone, but this week we are really feeling them.

When the week started and I loosely reviewed our schedule for the week Meghan was flat out disgusted at the number of appointments we had.  She is tired of doctors.  I can’t blame her.  So am I.

Watch this.  Scan that.  Come back and see me about that… UGH.

Transitions.

So when she asked me to stop making every vacation full of appointments, I tried to explain to her that with two people with “Cowden’s Syndrome,” and a whole pile of  “every 6 month” appointments, it is almost impossible.  And then when I looked at the tears in her eyes I promised to try.  “I just want a little time to be bored!” So I got a jump on our summer appointments.  So far I scheduled 12 from June 27 to July 16.  I have used only 6 days to do it.  There is one day with 4 appointments, two days with 2, and the other 4 each have their own days.  Now, as long as no one looks for any follow ups… maybe we can plan to have a somewhat normal summer.  At least I can dream

Transitions.

She is also tired of homework.  Even from teachers with the best of all intentions.  She is tired of the stress of the upcoming State exams, even as I work to downplay it.  She was so excited this week when I told her she could read whatever she wanted – whenever she wanted – without needing to write a summary.  You would have thought I gave her candy.  She used to love everything about school.  Now the best I get from her is that she likes her teachers.  What are we doing to these kids?

Transitions.

Her thumb still hurts.  Injured at dance on Monday.  Its been 3 days.  Seems like it is going to linger.  It isn’t – or doesn’t seem to be broken, but she is done dancing.  She told me yesterday.  She just wants to get through the recital.

Transitions. Things are ever changing.

First it was soccer – too tough on her body.  Now its dance.  Sometimes she can hurt herself just walking up the steps.  What next?

Transitions.

No more PT in school.  She doesn’t need it.  Or so they say right now.  We will double check just to be sure.  But there is lots of PT going on.  Strengthening that body.  Preparing her to swim like the fish she wants to be.  More testing in school when we return.  Just to make sure she is getting everything she needs.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

Transitions.

god helps us handle

Holy Week services at a new church.  Sunday we become members.  Warmly welcomed – attending as a family.  Mixed emotions that always lead to joy and confidence at the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

Transitions.

Our lives are full of transitions.  Like the lenses on Meghan’s glasses – changing with the environment and the circumstances.  We are growing together.  Learning our roles.  Fighting not to allow Cowden’s Syndrome to define us, but rather to find where it fits into who we are as people.  We are working on our health, and our own maintenance appointments.  We are learning about the effects of the syndrome, and discovering how much is not yet known.

We are finding our new roles, as people charged to raise awareness, and to spread the word.

We are figuring out where we belong.  In school.  In sports.  In extracurricular activities.  In religion.  On our lives.

Big changes all around. God’s plan unfolding.  Eyes and ears and heart wide open.

leap of faith

Transitions…

 

 

 

I fear this is the beginning of the end…

15_the-beginning-of-the-end

… of dance class that is.

It sounds so dramatic.  I guess maybe its not such a big deal.  But today it feels like one more thing on a list Cowden’s Syndrome has robbed her of.

Meghan was never going to be a performance dancer.  She wasn’t going to do ballet for hours.  But, for the last 3 years, she has taken one dance class a week.

First recital - 2011
First recital – 2011

Hip Hop.

Not because she knows the music, but rather because they dance in sneakers – and that is better for her joints.

I can’t say enough good things about the studio.  The owner is a compassionate, kind, professional, lovely woman who strives to make every child feel like a million bucks.  She revels in their accomplishments.  She celebrates every ability level.  She truly loves children, and dance.

The Proud Dancer with her fans
The Proud Dancer with her fans

This place is the perfect fit for Meghan.

Her joints acted up in the fall.  She missed a month before she could get it back together.  No worries – no sweat.

A few weeks ago she twisted an ankle at dance.  Xrays, a sprain.  A week or two off.

2012 On the Red Carpet
2012 On the Red Carpet

Then there was the shoulder thing.  Not dance related – but it still cost her some time.

And then tonight.  I picked her up from class and her flushed face told the story before her teacher had to.

“She hurt her hand, but we don’t know how.”

I do.

EFF YOU COWDENS!

So, I took her home.  There was a shower, and some ice.  Nothing more than a light sprain I am sure.  But her back hurt too.  So we put her to bed very gently. And we spoke about maybe finding ways to increase swimming instead of maintaining dance.

The recital though is such a rush.  She loves it.  She loves being on stage – the energy.  The celebration.

On stage - May 2012
On stage – May 2012

Physical Therapy tomorrow morning.  We will let Dr. Jill input her thoughts – although I already know them.

She is pretty good when she dances.  She is a quick study.  She has made so much progress.  And she has some moves.  (Those are NOT from me!)

She will ultimately get to decide.  Although its probably for the best to back out now – before she really gets hurt.  The final decision will be hers.  So I say.

In reality the final decision has been made by Cowden’s Syndrome, and its ruthless attack on her joints and muscles, and connective tissue.

She is resting peacefully  – for now.  But I am cranky.

Things tend to work out as they should, but I am still waiting for this little girl…(young woman…AAAKK!) to catch a break…

strength

Thinking outside the box

iep5

 

And so began the week that was.

A “simple” annual review – not so much.  But that’s OK.  Mamma Bear remained calm.  I am most strategic that way.

I am however exhausted, and facing another battle.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep the chin up this week, as I often felt like her:

frustration.jpg.scaled1000

But, I didn’t act like her.  Not even once.  (Well once I cried – but I got yanked past it.) And that’s about all of that story I can share here, for now.

But these last few weeks  months, have left me with a lot of questions.

See, there is this constant battle to do what is right, or what I perceive to be right, as I advocate for Meghan, and for my family.  But inevitably, because I am so introspective – I am left with a ton of questions at every fork in the road.

questions

 

Last week when we took her to 4 doctors and an ER about her shoulder, I ended up being told I went to the wrong ER – that we didn’t belong there.  But it is a cancer center, she is already a thyroid patient there, and my child grows things.  While we are blessed that none have been cancer yet – I am not of the “wait and see mentality.”  But, still I paused and wondered if I had done something wrong.

In the end, the rheumatologist gave her a muscle relaxant.  We began rehabilitative PT and I am seeing progress.  The shoulder and neck remain wickedly sensitive – but she has back almost full range of motion.

Still we watch the lump behind her shoulder blade, in hopes it continues to decrease in size and doesn’t turn out to be the “soft tissue tumor” we were advised to look out for.

what if

Really – no one has even a bit of a clue.  And it is often just downright exhausting.

Physical Therapy this week was refreshing.  At least I deal with professionals who have made themselves aware of Meghan’s needs and focus with a goal of eliminating, or severely managing, her pain.  Thank God we found them.

Because of them, Meghan will swim in her meet tomorrow.  No freestyle – it hurts the neck.  But that was OK with her.

i love backstroke

Backstroke seems by far to be her favorite. I love watching her swim.  She seems so at peace.

It gives me a time to break from all the questions.  The wondering.  The worry.

It is easy to doubt yourself sometimes when so many things are changing at once.  Whether you are precipitating the change, or reacting to it out of necessity, when there is so much at once I think it is normal to wonder.

We are not super difficult to get along with.  Yet we go through doctors like a toddler goes through shoes.  We have very few close friends – confidants to be trusted.  Those who will be honest and open minded.  We spend a lot of time alone.  We get along really well – thank goodness.

I think what we look for is doctors, friends, associates, people who can practice:

Thinking_Outside_The_Box_by_mclelun

 

I just wish there were more.  No one really fits in a box.  And that’s not just us, and our “rare disease.”  Everyone is unique, and special.  Everyone needs to be looked at with a fresh pair of eyes.  Everyone needs to be viewed through the perspective of the other person.  Only when we start to look at things through someone else’s point of view do we solve anything.

It is the outside the box thinkers that solve IEP problems, medical problems, friendship concerns, desires to make the world better…

Daring to think outside the box is risky.  It is hard.  It is necessary.

Especially in this season of “test prep” where I have seen this scenario one too many times…

test prep

 

Mine, yours, all of them – they are individuals.  They have specific needs.  We should never be discouraged when advocating for them and their needs.

In many cases – we are their only voice.  We MUST think outside the box for them.

 

25,000 – How did THAT happen?

I like math.

It makes sense.  At least to me.  There are questions.  And then there are answers.

I sometimes  often wish life could be a little more like math.

I am a numbers person by default.   I remember dates, and addresses, and phone numbers.

I used to be even better at it, but age and stress have clouded a bit of the clarity.

But, imagine my surprise when I checked in on my blog in the middle of this crazy week to find the stats telling me it exceeded 25,000 views!

25,000 blog views milestone - top injury law blog

I can not for the life of me – even loving numbers- imagine how that happened.   But it did.  And I am humbled and grateful.

Especially on weeks like this.

Where things don’t go according to plan.  And I have to be so careful what I say when the battles are too close to home.

I am tired.  So tired of fighting – all the time.

But you bolster me up, and give a reason to keep fighting,  so that Meghan gets everything she needs, and that I do too!

So thank you… and stick around.  You never know what will happen next!

There is always hope...
There is always hope…
Even on the days we fall hard!
Even on the days we fall hard!

 

 

Mamma Bear

Tomorrow is Meghan’s annual review for her IEP meeting.

I will not go down that easy!
I will not go down that easy!

It should have been an easy meeting.  Continuation of PT and the paraprofessional until her triennial next year.

The Cowden’s Syndrome clearly warrants PT.  We already have 2 sessions a week outside, and THEY want her to receive additional services inside the school.

She hurts, (by her own words)

https://beatingcowdens.com/2013/03/03/moving-backwards/  (This is a link to a speech she gave in school)

all the time.  Some days she is just able to make the best of it.

Last week we lost 2 days of school (and work.)  We  saw 5 doctors, including an ER in those 2 days because of severe pain and virtual immobility in the left shoulder.  No obvious trauma.  Just the life of a 9 year old with Cowden’s Syndrome.

Cowden’s Syndrome can often be accompanied by hypermobile joints, making injury during daily activities much easier.

Cowden’s Syndrome is also a condition of over exaggeration by every body part.  The smallest injury warrants a full, and sometimes incapacitating inflammatory reaction.

We manage a lot of things with Celebrex.  But it is not a miracle drug.

We can not keep her in a bubble.  She is 9 and wants to run and play.

But, that doesn’t mean her PT needs “don’t affect school function.”  They do affect it – in so many ways.

So that is my job tomorrow.  To get my point across.  To speak for my girl.

Mamma bear is almost ready…

mama bear

To protect baby bear…  She WILL get what she NEEDS!

Mama and baby bear