life – Page 18 – beatingcowdens

Raising Awareness – One Card at a Time

Published on August 16, 2013August 16, 2013 by beatingcowdens6 Comments

I am going to brag.

Brace yourself. It might be a long one.

A short time before we headed to Disney, I wrote about taking out Meghan’s push chair for an appointment in Manhattan. She was terribly bothered by the rude stares that greeted us that day.

As a result we talked, a lot. And, like she always does – she comes through those conversations blowing my mind with her introspective maturity.

Don’t misunderstand me. I sometimes worry that my 10 year old is such a deep thinker. I am acutely aware that she has way more on her plate than she should, and she handles with grace and poise a life that would leave many adults weeping under their covers. I wish she told me everything. I know she doesn’t. My heart often breaks for the burdens she carries.

Yet, she is just so amazing.

After we spoke about the rude “starers” she talked about wanting to have a way to let them know about Cowden’s Syndrome. She wanted to raise awareness.

This card was created out of her need to "teach" others about Cowden's Syndrome. — This card was created out of her need to “teach” others about Cowden’s Syndrome.

So she gave her ideas to Daddy and he created this card. We used the logo from the “Global Genes Project,” an organization that has been dear to Meghan since her diagnosis. http://globalgenes.org/

Meghan wears proudly the denim ribbon created for her by a family friend when she expressed a desire to have a ribbon. something she could wear that would represent her.

A denim cause ribbon, crafted after the Global Genes Project's slogan, "Hope it's in our Genes!" — A denim cause ribbon, crafted after the Global Genes Project’s slogan, “Hope it’s in our Genes!”

She dreams of one day seeing another child wearing this symbol. She wants it to become as common as the “pink ribbon.” Because, there are about 7,000 rare diseases, and 1 in every 10 people is affected by one. Many of these diseases are genetic. As we learn more about other rare diseases, Meghan understands the need for the rare disease community to unite. So little research is done on so many of these diseases that they remain poorly understood and under funded.

As we packed for the trip – Meghan asked if we could print some of the business cards for her to bring to Disney. She wanted to be able to hand them out. She knew people from all over the world visit Disney, so it would be a great place to spread the word. 500 cards later, I made sure she had all the tools she needed.

What happened next was just another example of how easy it is to be proud to be her mother.

Meghan decided that instead of getting an autograph book this year, she would take pictures with the Disney characters with her cards.

She also spontaneously struck up conversations with complete strangers all over the parks. She would approach cast members, wait staff, photographers, and guests. She spoke to people from the US and well beyond.

And every time she spoke my heart smiled.

She is an incredibly articulate young lady. She explained Cowden’s Syndrome through the eyes of a ten year old to almost 200 people.

Some of the most memorable included a man and his wife and their service dog on the bus to Downtown Disney, and a helpful cast member from Puerto Rico outside the fitting room as she tried on her Merida dress, and a Disney Photopass photographer whose genuine hug was so heartwarming.

Those were just a few. She spoke to so many people over the course of our 9 day trip that I have no doubt there is a greater awareness of Cowden’s Syndrome in the world than there was just 2 weeks ago.

She will tell you she is not a public speaker.

She might even try to tell you she is shy.

I will tell you she is flat out amazing, and that she is ~~going to do~~ already doing great things.

This child will make the world more aware – one card, and one conversation at a time.

These are Just a few who learned something new this week!

lori (14)

That Voice

Published on August 11, 2013August 11, 2013 by beatingcowdens4 Comments

That voice. The one we all have. The one my friend whose post I “reblogged” wrote about yesterday,

I have been battling mine. Sometimes I win. Sometimes I don’t. But, I am actively working on increasing my stats.

Chronic illness is, well, chronic. It sticks around even when you’d like to toss it to the curb.

Yet I, as so many other parents, have found an inner strength that comes with managing your child’s chronic illness.

And somewhere after you have been battling for a bit, and your mother’s intuition is fully fine-tuned, and stronger than any fictitious “super power,” you realize it gets easier and easier to take that voice of self doubt and tell it to SHUT UP!

Just this last year alone, as I have adjusted to my new body parts, and my missing body parts, I have come to the determination that despite my gnarled mess if varicose veins- I CAN wear shorts, because – why not?

And I CAN talk to whomever I want about the Isagenix business I am working to grow, because I believe in the products, and they have changed my family for the better. So, why not?

And I CAN blog in intricate detail the stories of our battles with Cowden’s Syndrome, so that those in similar situations have a story to relate to- and others will help us raise awareness.

I am able to stifle that voice when I meet another new, clueless doctor. I am able to educate them, or fire them. Whichever is best. I am able to plow through obstacles wretchedly placed in our paths for the best care my girl deserves.

Yet, there are still times that voice, and all of its horrible, scary, evil “what ifs?” Whispers – no SHOUTS in my ear.

We are still in Disney. I am alone by the pool. I have been here for hours- not without a cocktail in hand. But I am separated from my family because my girl is exhausted.

It’s Florida. It’s August. It’s hot. And maybe it’s just that simple.

But we’ve done this before. This is our sixth time. And this time the stamina is struggling. Late mornings. Early nights. Droopy eyes. And I worry.

We give her the best, cleanest, purest food and vitamins we can find. She sees doctors all over- all the time.

And yet, “Mom I just don’t feel right.”

My heart sinks.

I brought her cookies tonight- a trip to Downtown Disney alone because she just “couldn’t.” The gratitude in her eyes worth every one of my extra steps.

There is no fever. Maybe her Dad is right. Maybe I worry too much.

But we have only seen one night show- unheard of for us. I am starting to wonder what will happen when school meets PT and swim practice!

Or, maybe I remember too much. Or maybe I know her too well.

Motherhood carries inherent risks- among them constant worry. So Cowden’s or not- I am confident I am not alone in my anxiety.

We want what’s best for them. We want to help them. They are our lives, our air, our breath.

I have got that voice in much better control than ever before. On this though, I am not alone in wondering if I will ever get it to SHUT UP!?

Lemons

Published on July 23, 2013July 23, 2013 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

Generally I try to be a pretty positive person. But really I have to say this is getting a bit ridiculous. I am starting to wonder if I am doing something wrong. I mean everything feels like a project, every situation an issue.

Its no small wonder people sometimes tire of talking to me. I tire of telling tales over and over again. Really, I am not a big fan of drama at all.

And yet, as the precious weeks of summer tick by, and one obstacle after another seems to end up in our path – today I did feel like squeezing some of our lemons in a few people’s eyes.

My constant awareness that it could be worse; my attentiveness to the struggles of others is what keeps me grounded, but it may be even more exhausting. The prayers for young babies, and new mothers, the prayers for families who have lost young loved ones to tragedy, the prayers for the young children who are ill, the prayers for my grandmas – all three of them dealing with their own health issues… and the list goes on. I DO know it’s not just us. But sometimes when it seems to be one lemon after another, I get tired of ducking.

I know the saying about lemons, and an old cliche is good now and again…

But sometimes it just doesn’t cut it.

Sometimes lemons are, well – just sour.

My girl has been complaining of her wrist and hand since June 4th. I remember the date very specifically. And it has been a long 7 weeks. The last few weeks of school she could barely write. We tried braces, no brace, resting, ice, heat. Nothing. The pain gets worse. Then the MRI says normal and I want to spit. (Lemon juice in someone’s eye!) Now we wait while the MRI gets reviewed again, and its time to have a surgeon look at what appear to be soft tissue tumors (at least 2 of them) forming on her hand. One has been there since – forever. The other appears to have grown in size in the last 72 hours. I am not surprised they didn’t show up on the MRI.

This is the same child who took 7 sonograms to have her gall bladder diagnosed with “milk of calcium” and after three “negative” sonograms for the obvious mass growing out of her back years ago – the surgeon decided to trust his instincts and ended up removing a sizable lipoma.

This kid breaks all the rules.

And that’s before we even get to the ramifications of the diagnosis of Raynaud’s Syndrome and its implications made off the MRI. ( I guess that means it was … almost normal?)

So tomorrow I will call an orthopedist to check on insurance issues and to see if they will take a look at this kid. (This one comes HIGHLY reccomended! :-))She certainly can’t start 5th grade unable to write, and this can’t go on forever. So, another doctor it is.

It should be easier to get to the doctor after Enterprise picks me up at 10 tomorrow and sets me up with a rental as my relatively NEW car spends one too many days at the “car doctor” who seem unable to fix the problem either.

This is how long I waited on hold – before I hung up the phone and drove there myself…

All this as we clean out the attic to prepare for the new roof to be installed in a couple of weeks, and we wait for the people to call us back about the class action lawsuit that somehow explains the water damage and dry rot in our bay window.

So if I stay stuck on the lemons I may lose perspective, and God knows I need that to get by. Instead of wishing troubles away I pray for the stamina to continue to endure, and endure. Wouldn’t trade my life for anyone’s. But, God give me strength to find the rainbows – even in the lemons.

And as I organize my paperwork – constantly – tonight I write a check to support “Alex’s Lemonade Stand.” And I pray for all the parents faced with cancer in their children. It strikes fear in my core, so I do whatever little I can- knowing all too well we can all be tossed into places we would never venture to on purpose.

And as I reflect on today, I guess it was a success. We did get into our much underused pool for some mother/daughter time.

And when all is said and done, and I have had a few glasses of cider, and I can sit down and regain my perspective – I have a pretty cool kid. This Cowden’s Syndrome thing – it really sucks. But its such a part of us now, that I can’t imagine giving it up. We are not defined by it, but it is a part of who we have become.

So in the interim, for those of us who by bilateral mastectomy have gone from a size C to an A cup – maybe this is a more appropriate way to view those lemons.

Couldn’t hurt. Might help.

Keep laughing. Keep swimming. It’s all we’ve got.

Mother, Wife, Teacher, Advocate

Published on June 3, 2013June 4, 2013 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

First I was a daughter. A sometimes mousy, sometimes mouthy daughter. I was respectful, but hated to be stepped on. I wrote letters to the editor when I was annoyed. I let people know how I felt.

Then I was a teenager. I was full of opinions and was quite sure they were all right. I was willing to debate for hours, or sometimes stay really really quiet – stewing in my personal assurance that I was right and they weren’t.

I spent 4 years away at college. Even though I didn’t want to – lol. I will be forever grateful to my stepdad for his insistence that I drive, AND go away to college. I am not sure I would have done either. At college I learned to stand on my own two feet. I met all sorts of people from all walks of life.

By the time I hit my 20s life had educated me some. I still held strong convictions, but I was able to accept that it was ok for others to have their own. I gained the belief that as long as people were respectful – we could disagree.

In my 20s I met my husband. A match that many thought was destined to fail. And unlikely pair we compliment each other in every way. He was my missing piece.

In my 20s I became a teacher. A lifelong goal realized. I worked harder than I ever had in my life to be the best I could be. I recognized the magic of teaching. I became addicted to the “spark” in their eye when they “get it.” I came to see that my presence and my attitude were as important as my lessons. I taught/teach my students, my children – to see the best in others, and to tolerate and embrace differences respectfully.

In my 20s Mom had cancer. And I learned what it was like to be scared. And I learned what really really matters in life. And she fought, and she won. I always appreciated my family, but I learned to appreciate them even more.

In my 20s I got married. I got my Master’s Degree. We bought a house. We tore it apart. We fixed it up again. We got buried in debt. We worked hard to get out.

Then – just about when I was ready to turn 30 – we had Meghan.

Mom said you do more changing in your 20s than in your teens. She was right. But as my 30s come to a close – I think they beat my 20s hands down.

In my 30s I learned to love my heart, outside of my body. I learned that I would never be as important as that little human we created out of love. I learned about family all over again.

In my 30s I learned to live without sleep. I learned to endure tears and screeching and pain as my heart ached for my baby girl. I learned that colic can last way longer than 3 months, and I learned to bounce and rock and sing and move for hours and hours on end.

In my 30s I learned how to balance two full time jobs, as a mother and a teacher.

In my 30s I learned what it was like to be truly terrified, as your baby went into the hospital, and into surgery over and over again.

In my 30s I became really close with God. I learned that my relationship with Him transcends walls and buildings and people. I learned gratitude, and I learned not to be shy about my faith.

In my 30s I learned that convictions can change. And the things I was sure I was right about 5 or 10 or 15 years ago…well, maybe I wasn’t so right after all.

In my 30s I learned that close friends share bonds that go past time and distance. I learned that even though I miss them, they are there when the going gets tough. I learned that EMail, facebook, and the internet, when used properly – are some of the biggest blessings in life.

In my 30s I learned that you have the power to make changes in your life when situations, circumstances or people have you angry, sad, hurt, mad, or generally annoyed. I learned doing something is way more rewarding that complaining.

In my 30s I learned if you believe in something enough, if you believe in someone enough, well even if you stand alone, you have to stand up for them. And I learned that if you do – they will be your friend forever and ever.

In my 30s I learned what it was like to hear the words “You have a Rare Disease.” I learned words like “Cowden’s Syndrome.” I learned about “tumor suppressor genes,” and “genetic mutations.” I learned about risks and tests that could take worry to a whole new level- if I let it.

In my 30s I learned what it was like to hear the words “You HAD cancer.”

In my 30s I learned which body parts are “extra.”

In my 30s I learned – because they made me- what it was like to tell your 9 year old, “The doctors are pretty sure you will have cancer.”

From mousy to mouthy.

From school teacher to Mom.

From “victim” to advocate.

All these things make me who I am today.

So much has changed, and yet at my core, my heart – I am the same.

I feel. Deeply and truly. I care. Often too much. I laugh, and I love with my whole heart. I know pain, and I know joy, and I have been intimate with both. I know fear and bravery. I know that I am not always right – but when I am… watch out. Because little will stand in my way.

I know life is not fair.

I know God is Good.

This weekend I went to 2 wakes. One for a woman who had lived a full life, and another for a young girl who sparsely got the chance. There are too many wakes. There are too many things that don’t make any sense. Too many people gone way too soon.

I can wail and cry and wither away in my sadness. I can let fear win – or I can stand strong.

Cowden’s Syndrome tries to win. It can strike fear in my core with a headache, or the sighting of a lump, or the feel of a bump. But I will not let it paralyze us. I will not let it win.

So we have our team of doctors. We have our visits scheduled. We check it all. Sometimes its tiresome. Sometimes its discouraging. But I would rather be out in front of the boulder – than under it.

This is really how I view the race against Cowden's Syndrome — This is really how I view the race against Cowden’s Syndrome

Through it all I know Meghan is watching. My student – learning from how I react, how I fight, how I handle adversity. My teacher – teaching me bravery, courage, candor, tenacity, and stamina.

I do the best I can to show her that its important to stand up for what you believe in.

I think she gets it. I know I do.

The 30s have been a ride, and I still have a few more months to go.

In my 30s I learned what it was like to total a car. I learned the frustration and injustice that often goes along with accidents that they would like to tell me I am powerless to fix. I also learned that even though there are in fact some things I can not fix – there are others I can and will speak up about.

If you happen to catch this before 10 PM – try channel 11 news “Help Me Howard.” Working with the neighborhood to change a few things at my car accident site.

https://beatingcowdens.com/2013/06/04/howard-works-to-put-a-stop-sign-in-a-deadly-staten-island-intersection/

Advocacy. Empowering. Invigorating. Much more fun than lying in wait.

We have to keep our energy up, standing up for what we belive in while we are “Beating Cowden’s!”

The Grass is Green!

Published on May 29, 2013May 29, 2013 by beatingcowdens5 Comments

Sounds ridiculously cheesy I know. Sometimes the bad things are just crap. And some days just stink. But, not most of them. Really, if I think about it- just a few days now and then really stink. The rest of them seem to hold within them some lesson, some joy, some laugh, some memory – something that makes my spirit richer than it was before.

Don’t ever delude yourself into thinking things are perfect here. That would be a lie. We have our whiny, cranky, in each other’s way kind of days. But that’s not most of them.

Lots of rotten things happen to everyone. But lots of good things happen too.

Lots of rotten things happen when you have Cowden’s Syndrome. Sometimes the key lies in looking at things from a different perspective.

Every moment. Every meeting. Every diagnosis. Every doctor’s appointment. Every report read. Every bill fought for. Every new teacher. Every new friend. Every old friendship renewed. Every miracle. Every ordinary moment. They all bring us to where we are.

Maybe I have watched too much sci-fi with my husband, but to change any one thing, any event in our lives, could alter the course of our lives.

I won’t spend time wishing things away- certainly not the good, and definitely not the bad.

Sometimes the lessons hurt. Sometimes they make us cry. Sometimes, like when we say goodbye to dancing school, and all its emotional joy, coupled with insufferable physical pain, we get a little sad.

Then we say, if it wasn’t for dance, we wouldn’t have learned love of the stage. If it weren’t for dance we wouldn’t have seen a growth in confidence, and an ability to manage a growing young body. Losing dance is hard…

But if there wasn’t Cowden’s, and chronic pain, and an inability to deal with impact – would there be swimming?

Private lessons at a local college start Saturday. Regular practice begins the next month. She salivates when she gets near a pool. She just wants to get better and better.

New sport, new school, new friends, and old ones too. Same old pain. Same nasty viruses. Some things change, and some remain the same.

Sometimes I wish (quietly to myself) that life could be a little bit easier. Then I look at my daughter, and my husband, and my dogs, and my house, and I think – things are just fine right here.

We have each other – for the ups and downs- for the ins and outs.

They say if everyone had a few moments with everyone else’s problems, they would fight to grab their own back.

We are getting by. We are “beating cowden’s”

The grass is green enough right here.

“Count Your Many Blessings…”

Published on May 12, 2013 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

“Count your many blessings, count them one by one. Count your many blessings see what God has done…”

The song has been stuck in my head all afternoon. I remember as a youth singing the song in church. I must have sung it plenty of times, because the lyrics are stuck in my subconscious. And, as things int he subconscious tend to do – they often pop out at just the right time.

A busy weekend full of blessings.

Saturday we celebrated the anniversary of my Mom and StepDad. 25 years is quite a milestone, and we were so thrilled to celebrate with family and a few dear friends.

What a blessing that among the guests we had Grandma and Pop, and Grandma Hansen. Although we missed Grandpa Hansen we were so thrilled to count our blessings together.

Mother’s Day morning I woke alongside my awesome husband. I was greeted by my beautiful daughter and lots of hugs and kisses. Some hand made cards, and a few nice gifts and we were off to church.

We traveled after church. to visit with Felix’s Mom and Dad. We endured the (It could have been worse) Belt Parkway and spent some time with his parents, sister and nephew. Felix’s Grandma passed away just a few short months ago, so this day was especially difficult for his Mom who was very close to her Mom.

On the return trip we make a quick visit to my mom and got to see the grandparents again. How many 39 year olds can kiss a few Grandmothers on Mother’s Day?

How lucky am I to hug my Mother – a feisty lovable survivor of cancer and life? How blessed am I to have her in my life -by my side?

As we headed home, absolutely exhausted. That song started in my head.

“Count your many blessings…”

I thought of the friends I have who are desperate to be mothers. The friends who had to struggle to have the children they have. The friends who have miscarried, and friends whose young children live in Heaven. I thought about friends who miss their Moms, whose hearts ache every day at the loss – whether it was last week or a decade or more ago. I thought about my friends who never got the years with their grandparents that I have had.

Shame on me for feeling tired. How lucky am I to need a list to shop for Mother’s Day Cards? How fortunate am I to have so much visiting to do that I can sparsely fit it all in?

One might think Mother’s Day is for relaxing – or spending quiet time alone. But, I am aware that those years will come all too soon. For now – let me run, and visit, and hug and chat. Let me relish the moments in a life that is fleeting.

I kissed my little girl tonight. I held her almost 5 foot frame and cuddled her as best I could.

She won’t be in school tomorrow. A rampant virus, and her rotten immune system are not a good match. She won’t plant with her science class the way she likes to. She won’t play in the yard with her friends.

Tomorrow will be yet another day in the complicated life of a little girl with a multifaceted Rare Disease. A day of differences and disappointments. A day she will handle with the same graceful smile she uses for every other aspect of her life.

My daughter is the one who reminds me to count my blessings.

And, oh do I have many!

Who is in charge?

Published on April 28, 2013 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

Meghan slept until 11:20 this morning. She woke only to the sound of the hammering as her father works to trim out the upstairs rooms – a project that had an intended completion date of about 2005, but hey, life gets in the way sometimes.

We had woken earlier, Felix and I – but not too much earlier. We had wanted to go to church this morning, but learned a long time ago NEVER to wake Meghan. She had gone to sleep at 8 PM last night, and if she was still sleeping soundly in her own bed at that hour – well her body was clearly telling us to back off. We have a lot of respect for her body. It gets VERY cranky if you don’t listen carefully.

My three girls... resting together. — My three girls… resting together.

But, by 11 – we had become so ingrained in what we were going to do, that it wasn’t too hard to forget that our 9 year old was still sound asleep under her covers.

When she came stumbling out of her room to the sound of the hammer she was dazed but smiling. After a good morning hug she asked what we had to do today. When I told her that we were going to stay home all day she leaped into my arms.

Can I read? Yes…of course.

Can I watch some TV? Sure.

Can I take my shower later, and stay in my PJs? Absolutely.

While part of me was tempted to lecture her about getting up and showered and dressed, I refrained. Just because I could never bring myself to spend the day in my PJs, doesn’t mean she can’t.

In so many ways Meghan and I are somewhat different, but also a good deal alike.

Our bodies eventually shut down if they are always on the go. We need our down time.

Growing up with a sister and a mother who could move like Energizer Bunnies, I always felt a bit odd that I couldn’t keep up. They still move like that. And I still need to stop sometimes.

Now, I have a mini -me. (And my sister has two! :-))

So when I looked at the April calendar earlier in the month I had had some serious reservations about whether we could pull it off. For most of the month we were on a 7 day schedule.

Meghan switched schools.

We had PT twice a week, dance class, music class, swim practice, swim meets, test prep, doctor’s appointments….

But, we did it. A small hiccup last week when she started with an ear infection, but a quick run to the pediatrician (after the orthodontist, and before it transformed into a full-blown feverish mess) and we got it under control.

State tests – 6 days of them in the last 2 weeks. Stress – all of them. But they are over too.

Yesterday I pulled out Meghan’s spring clothes. There wasn’t much we could use. The sandals from last year were a size 6. She is a 7.5. The same was true for the clothes. We put even less away for the fall. Nothing really. But we will cross that bridge then. Right now she is almost 5 feet tall and every inch of her beautiful inside and out.

No wonder she needs to rest sometimes. Her body is certainly hurrying its way through its growth.

I spent the entire day at my desk. I just finished about an hour ago when I began to write. There were bills to file, papers to sort, letters to write. There is a letter writing campaign I am working on for a stop sign by my school.

There were some Emails to answer about Isagenix – the nutritional system that is changing my husband’s life.

http://meghanleigh8903.isagenix.com/us/en/landing_toxic.html (check that out here)

There were gifts to order, some lists to make, and I can now just about see the desk calendar, as it is ready to turn to May.

I probably should have gotten outside to enjoy the beautiful day too, but I guess this was my respite. I thrive on order and organization. I showered early – like I always do, but I relaxed by creating order.

You see Mom taught me a long time ago – that the more you look for order in life, the less you will find it. “You plan – God Laughs.” And I know she is right.

I really should listen to my Mom... — I really should listen to my Mom…

However, in this world where so many things are so far out of my control – I have a compulsion to control what I can. I can make sure the floor is clean, and the bills are paid, and the laundry is done. I can make sure there are always cupcakes for Meghan in the freezer in case there is a party. I can buy the cards, and order the gifts, and endeavor valiantly to balance my checkbook.

Crazy? Maybe. But I take satisfaction and solace in knowing that there are a few precious things left in my life I can control.

The last of a long series of lab tests ordered by my friend Dr. Elice was done Saturday morning. This is the week where I will find out what 37 vials of blood and 2 24 hour urine tests turned up. I will ask the 5,000 questions in my mind about endocrine function, and hormone levels, and ratios, and vitamin absorption. And, no matter how much I try to anticipate the answer, something will knock me flat on my ass.

That is how it goes. Cowden’s Syndrome keeps us hopping. And with Meghan there is an immune system deficiency, the chronic viral infections, and so many more things we are yet to figure out.

So – for tonight, the floor is clean, the list is made, the desk is organized. For tonight I can rest, and gear up for whatever this week has in store. And somehow, after dance class, and PT, and swim practice, and 2 meets… somehow it will all be OK.

I’m not in charge of this. It’s in the hands of a power far greater than any of us.

I’m only in charge of keeping the fur off the kitchen floor.

The Circle of Three

Published on April 14, 2013 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

My heart and soul. My circle of strength.

A few weeks ago Felix mentioned he might like to have a denim ribbon pendant to wear.

They are modeled off the Global Genes Project logo, “Hope it’s in our genes!”

He wanted to be able to show his support for Meghan and I all the time.

So, we had another one made and I gave it to him for our anniversary.

I didn’t imagine the effect it would have on me.

What a magical thing to see the ones you love most joined with a symbol of support.

Symbols are just symbols I know – but what they symbolize can still be powerful.

Felix gives us the motivation, the strength, and the courage to say “I can.”

He makes us laugh. He holds our hands.

He is as much a part of this Cowden’s Syndrome journey as we are.

We are three but we are one.

Now, near or far we remain connected.

There are no “superpowers” in these denim ribbons…

Well, unless you count LOVE, GRATITUDE, COURAGE, STRENGTH, and HOPE!

Our Digital Footprint

Published on April 13, 2013 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

Tomorrow Felix and I will be married 13 years. While in some ways 13 years seems like a long time – in other ways I sparsely remember that there was life before I married my best friend.

And as compatible as we are, anyone who knows us is aware that we are as different as day and night in so many ways. One of those ways is the internet.

I facebook. I blog. I Email. I communicate with people I know well, and people I have never met. He doesn’t. He communicates live and in person (and sometimes on the phone) with the small circle of people he loves.

In the world of digital footprints, I have to imagine that mine and Meghan’s are substantially larger than that of my husband. And with that knowledge comes the need to sometimes remind myself of what I already know – there is no privacy on the internet.

We live in a suburb of a big city – unique in the fact that 6 degrees of separation can easily be played – and usually can serve to connect “natives” in far less than 6 tries.

That means, that every post, every writing, every thought, every sentiment that I choose to make public will be read by people who know me, people don’t, people who like me, and people who don’t.

I have begun to “clean up” and clean out my private facebook account. Life is about balance. My husband wonders why I want to stay connected to people I don’t see or even know. Well, many of them hold a special place in my heart – whatever the reason. Many are very dear to me. But, some I really wouldn’t know if I passed them on the street. Do they care when my girl is at swim practice? Or that my anniversary is tomorrow? Or that we have a new church? Or a new school? The answer truly is – probably not.

So how does all this connect to Beating Cowden’s?

Well, here’s how I see it. I started this blog to raise awareness of a Rare Disease. – one that has changed my life and that of my daughter, and my whole family. I wanted to get the word out that this 1 in 200,000 disorder was wreaking havoc on our lives, and we are working to control it.

Then, as I became more educated, I wanted to expose people to the world of Rare Diseases. The reality that we are among the lucky ones has been a potent lesson.

I want people to know that Rare Diseases are not always visible. That even though we don’t “look sick,” the suffering is part of daily life.

These realities have made some people uncomfortable, and have brought some others closer to us. Lessons learned. Life changes.

So when I blog, I try to focus on my own experiences, but without fail they are intertwined with Meghan’s. What can I do to protect her? Not too much.

She wants this blog to continue. She is proud to be part of an awareness raising effort. So, I have given her editing privileges and the constant reminder that once I hit “publish” I can not take it back.

I think in some ways this level of awareness will help her – when she takes more control of her own digital footprint.

“Beating Cowden’s” is about our daily struggles – sometimes with doctors, our bodies, medical tests, surgeries, and just people in general.

I have thought so much about privacy, and how it is almost a work of fiction these days. I have worried about hurting people’s feelings on my private page – but I am starting to get over it.

If you make a conscious choice to put yourself out there – there has to be a purpose. And, you have to be willing to stand behind every word you type.

There is no privacy on the internet.

Beating Cowden’s will continue as a means to raise awareness of a virtually unheard of Rare Disease.

My own personal Facebook page will take a bit of an overhaul in the next few weeks.

Don’t take offense.

I am just getting our feet ready for spring!

No more “Toxic” environments

Published on April 7, 2013April 7, 2013 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

Almost a year ago – in June of 2012 – my husband was introduced to Isagenix, a nutritional program designed to help him shed some unwanted pounds and help him feel better.

You see it had only been a few months since his wife and daughter were diagnosed with Cowden’s Syndrome. Meghan had had knee surgery (her 4th) in February of 2012. I had my mastectomy, with the subsequent DCIS diagnosis, in March, and a hysterectomy in May. By June the stress eating was evident as he just didn’t feel well. We all needed his energy level to stay high. There was certainly no time for our anchor in the storm to get sick or run down.

So, with the guidance of a friend – an Isagenix consumer and “pro” herself, we got him started on a 30 day program designed to help cleanse his body of unwanted toxins. The thirty day program was a breeze for him. He is one of the most determined people I know when he puts his mind to it. It wasn’t long into those 30 days when he started finishing the extra vegetables at dinner, and choosing water over soda. He just FELT better.

The information below is from the Isagenix website.

http://www.isagenix.com/us/en/cleanse_overview.html

Nutritional Cleansing unlocks the miracle of the human body

Nutritional Cleansing increases the health benefits you’ll receive from the ancient health practice of cleansing. The herbs, vitamins and minerals that aid cleansing do two things:

Accelerate the removal of impurities from the body.
Nourish the body with vital nutrients to rapidly revive health.

A cleansed and revitalized body is stronger, resists illness better, is more efficient and performs at a higher level than one that is filled with impurities. Many people notice an ability to reach and maintain their ideal weight.

So when the thirty days were up, he chose to continue on a maintenance program. He uses the Isagenix for one or two meals a day, and snacks. It fits in with the “on the go” lifestyle of a NYC employee.

And, as he sees fit – he opts to do a “cleanse day” where he drinks a power packed vitamin supplement and lots of water. He eats very little food. And he always feels better when he is done. He knows now that toxins build up in the body, and he knows when its time to let them go.

10 months later he is down a solid 35 pounds and countless inches. No fluctuation greater than about 3 pounds. It is gone for good. The future is wide open, because as soon as his schooling is over – the exercising will begin again, and the remaining 15 pounds he looks to lose I am confident will melt away.

So how does all this have anything to do with “Beating Cowden’s?”

Here’s how I see it.

I haven’t used the Isagenix program, because I have not had a need to lose weight. But, I have learned so much from reading and watching.

Essential to the program is the release of toxins.

This, I know a lot about from being Meghan’s mom. From a young age it was evident toxins were difficult for her body to process. She seemed to hold onto things, food dyes, additives, “extras” in everything she ate. Nothing seemed to agree with her. An almost exclusively organic diet became essential.

We used Epsom Salt baths in the younger years to help clean out what her body couldn’t get rid of.

I learned about biochemisty, and methylation. I learned about Vitamin B12 and its ability to help her get rid of toxins.

So, over the last few weeks and months, when Meghan’s pain level has gotten progressively higher again, it was time for me to reevaluate.

Looking closely at her diet, there wasn’t much to clean up.

I have Dr. Elice looking closely at her blood. 28 vials this week!

But, it occurred to me that stress – life experiences – could be equally toxic. So I started to wonder if the stressful situations in our life were causing a decline in Meghan’s overall health.