Winning

Published on January 10, 2015 by beatingcowdens5 Comments

Winning. It feels good. And it’s not about being first. And it’s not always about being “the best.” Sometimes winning can be as simple as not losing!

Every day we wake up and prepare for battle. The “sword” is sharpened before we get out of bed. We can not take a step unprotected, or unguarded. And, even being on guard against Cowden’s Syndrome all the time is often not enough. So often things just happen…

Sometimes we get ~~a little~~ A LOT frustrated. Often we feel beat up by this beast that we battle. “It” gets quite a few swipes in. But, we have, and we WILL always remain on top. That’s why we are BEATINGCOWDENS.

So tonight, as we drove home from a swim meet in the Bronx, we chatted – my girl and I.

And it was pleasant, easy conversation.

So often as the weekend comes I reflect on the week that was in awe that THAT much “stuff” fit into the week.

This was no exception.

Last month she was sidelined from the swim meet. Recovering from knee surgery just three weeks prior, she was in no condition to compete.

This month she was all in, and we both loved it. It is such a treat to watch her when she gives it everything she’s got. It’s an even bigger treat when she takes 4 seconds off the 100 free and 1.5 seconds off the 50 fly.

Winning.

The conversation on my end for the long afternoon of waiting was pleasant and easy. A bunch of overheated parents held captive together, all sharing a common hope that their children swim their best. Meghan talked comfortably with her peers, easily passing the time between events.

There are goals, qualifying times in her brain, but today she was pleased by her success and so was I. She may reach these times this season. She may reach them next season. But, we agreed that it doesn’t matter as much as her continued progress. And I was able to tell her how proud I am that she persists. Through 5 knee surgeries, through thyroid numbers that would level the strongest among us, through chronic pain – quitting is not in her vocabulary. This is the focus she will take with her for the rest of her days. This is the attitude, this “I CAN do it,” is what I pray will follow her all of her days, through all aspects of her life.

Winning.

This week she got a part she wanted in the play she’s been working on in after school drama. She was patient. Persistent. She calls drama “fun,” and the students, “funny.” She never acted before. Except for every day when she “acts” like a pain-free “regular” 11-year-old. She’s thrilled.

Winning.

The marking period ends this week I think. Her averages on the “Pupil Path” app impress me. And I was a pretty good student. I don’t check her homework, or really bother her about anything. “I’ve got it, Mom.” And the numbers tell the same story. All those years of working together on good study habits paid off.

Winning.

The fund-raiser, “Jeans for Rare Genes,” is taking off. And we haven’t seen anything yet. People are reaching out. They are coming to the event, donating raffle baskets, making monetary donations, and offering their time and energy. Local businesses have been extraordinarily supportive. Meghan had seen the best in so many people. She knows her life matters. Her story matters. Her drive is being rewarded. Her big heart is teaching her to dream bigger, and help more people.

Winning.

We lost our Allie Girl, our 11-year-old rescue in December. She was with us 7 and a half great years. We miss her. All of us, especially her Dad and her “furry” sister Lucky. Felix approached me about rescuing another dog. I thought it might be too soon. He reminded me that Allie had a good life because we rescued her. He felt strongly we could be that same kind of help to another dog, and by doing so we would honor Allie, and help Lucky’s loneliness. I told him I was open – but no puppies. I wanted to know we were saving a dog. I wanted a dog no one else wanted. That made sense to me.

Sweet April showed up on a web site Felix was following. A three-year-old lab mix with an uncertain history, rescued from a high kill shelter in Florida. She was being fostered in Pennsylvania. “It’s all in the eyes,” Felix said.

We put in an inquiry, and left an application with references.

The Email said she was going to be in Brooklyn Tuesday night. Could we come and see her? And if everything went well and she and Lucky got along, would we consider taking her?

TUESDAY? Who takes a new dog on a Tuesday?

Apparently we do.

April arrived at our home around 7:30 PM Tuesday, after a brief visit to Petsmart for a new collar, and to meet GiGi and Pop!

We had to get her in, fed, settled and all of us off to bed within a few brief hours.

She found her spot. And Meghan has slept better this week than she has in years.

WINNING!

Lucky has developed arthritis in her knee, and a visit to the vet Weds. with both dogs in tow was very emotional for me. April checked out as healthy and strong. And my Lucky had her very first blood test. I am happy to report she is healthy as can be. I left with a script for anti-inflammatory medicine for her. She’s going to need it to keep up with her little sister.

And somewhere I can imagine Allie smiling in Heaven, as Lucky is the recipient of the playful nips she used to give so frequently.

Allie always watched over her human sister.

The sight of two tails wagging again was good for us all.

WINNING!

All Dogs go to Heaven…

Published on December 10, 2014 by beatingcowdens5 Comments

Although there is some debate on that, I stand with Billy Graham.

We lost our Allie Girl today. And just when I thought there couldn’t be anymore sadness, our hearts are broken in half.

Allie found us. Rather, she found Felix, in August of 2007, when PLUTO Rescue did their events at Petsmart. It was August 4th, Felix’s birthday, and we stopped in just to grab a bag of food for Lucky. Meghan and I walked through the aisles enjoying some of the puppies around for adoption. Ready to leave, I asked, “Where’s Daddy?” And there he was, knee to knee – eye to eye- with Allie. “This is the dog I was meant to have,” he told me very matter-of factly.

I came up with a litany of reasons why a second dog was a bad idea. ( We already had Lucky)

“What if they don’t get along?” (Solved in 2 seconds flat when they met outside Petsmart. They were fast friends.)

“We are having company for Meghan’s birthday next week.” (They offered to delay the adoption 2 weeks.)

“Our yard may not be big enough.” (We passed the home visit with flying colors.)

“We don’t have the money right now _” (I was grasping. The fee was so reasonable. And they offered to postdate the check a month.)

I lost.

But I won.

Big time.

Allie joined us on August 12, 2007. The guesstimate for her age was three. I suspect that was conservative. She stepped into our home with none of the puppy nonsense new dogs cause. She was trained, didn’t bite the furniture, or pee on the rug. She needed a little tiny training to settle down with her food. Easily done. And she really was the perfect dog.

She was Felix’s dog from the get go. No matter where he went she followed. She slept on his feet at the TV at night. She waited for him on the weekends if he slept in. She sat at his feet when he whistled. She greeted him at the door. She knew it was he who had freed her from the cycle of adoption and fosters, and found her her forever home.

Her “tough” side – much like Felix’s, was put into check with the right love.

I took a bit longer to catch on. It took a few baths, and some nail cutting, and adjusting to calls from the groomers that they couldn’t service her. I had to understand her, her abandonment, and her need to trust again. Once I “got it,” we did just fine.

Mostly I fell in love with Allie because she loved my Meghan. I can remember nights, and there were so many sleep deprived nights, that Meghan would wake crying, and if we didn’t hear fast enough, Allie would come and get Felix and I and make sure we took care of her. She became so protective of Meghan – from “hide and seek” to watching her in the pool, to not resting until Daddy dug her out of the snow bank, Allie knew Felix was her master, and protecting Meghan was her purpose.

And how could I not love the dog that loved my two favorites?

Meghan, being without siblings, took to the dogs as her “furry sisters.” She always used the number 5 to represent her family.

And when she was sick, or hurt, or recovering, as she so often was, Allie was loyal and attentive always.

Being sick is the pits. Having Cowden’s Syndrome is horrendous. Having a dog or two to love you through it – definitely a bright spot.

There were so many nights. More than can be named. So many nights of tears and frustration and sadness and anger. Soothed by the love of a dog.

We love Lucky. Very much. But we always said Allie made Lucky a dog. Allie turned her in the right direction. Made her less neurotic and more normal. They were sisters. A good pair.

Cowden’s Syndrome just got a little harder to swallow.

Life just got lonelier.

Allie got sick fast. Maybe a few weeks of not being quite right. And a few days of really being laid up.

We took her to the vet Sunday. It looked bad. I took her back today. It was over. Her belly was full of fluid. Even without eating – 2 pounds heavier than Sunday. They didn’t offer to do blood. Or treat.

“This is it,” the vet said.

And Meghan and Felix came, and we sat as a family. And we said goodbye together. We hugged, and held, and loved and cried. Then we left.

Our world, and our lives forever changed. Richer for our experiences, more painful for our losses. For only those who love deeply, can hurt.

Thank you Allie.

Hopefully Grandpa Tom finds you. You two always got along. Cause I firmly believe I’ll see you both again.

EVERYONE has SOMETHING!

Published on July 4, 2012July 5, 2012 by beatingcowdens1 Comment

Meghan and I have a lot of “deep” conversations. More than you might expect an 8 (almost 9) year old to be capable of.

Today she was wondering why we have to have Cowden’s Syndrome. Why is our PTEN gene broken?

Well, I said to her, everyone has something to deal with – and this is what we’ve got.

She thought for a minute, trying to figure it out herself, and then said, “What do you mean?”

“No matter where you go in the world, in every city and town, in every street, in every country, on every continent – EVERYONE is dealing with SOMETHING.”

I told her there is a saying that goes around “If everyone could toss all their troubles into a circle, and choose which ones we wanted, we would likely take our own back.”

Almost indignant she said,, “Why would I take back Cowden’s Syndrome? It stinks.”

“Yep, but would you trade it for the family that doesn’t have enough money to buy food, the family that lost their house to a fire, the family where the parents have lost their jobs, the family where the parents aren’t in love, or are divorced, the child who can’t have any pets because her sisters are allergic, the family whose Mom or Dad died, fighting for the freedoms we celebrate today?”

It doesn’t take much for her to “get it.” That’s why I love her so much.

“There are kids without dogs,” she said. “Lots of them. And I really love Allie and Lucky.

There are kids without their own room, or even their own house.

There are kids whose Moms and Dads don’t love each other.

Some kids have other diseases where they have to go to the hospital even more than me.

_DSC0072 — Ist Holy Communion 2011, with GiGi and Pop

Some kids don’t get to know their grandparents or their great- grandparents, like I do.

I get it Mom, I think I do. But, still it seems like some people have no worries, no problems at all.”

“Those are the people I worry most about Meghan. Those are usually the people whose hearts hurt. They are often alone, or insecure, or feeling unloved. Trust me, EVERYONE has something.”

“I guess you were right Mom. I don’t like having Cowden’s Syndrome… but I wouldn’t trade our life for anyone’s.”

“I am glad – me either. Our “thing” to handle is medical, and we will get through it – together. Tonight we celebrate our country, and the freedoms it was founded on. We celebrate the soldiers who fought for our freedoms, and the ones that continue to fight. It is those freedoms that allow us the ability to battle whatever “thing” plagues our own life.

We are all struggling, and we are all lucky.”