The Grass is Green!

thankful for the bad

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.

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.

now is right on time

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.

I believe…

I believe that there are lessons to be learned from every event in life- especially the ones that don’t turn out like we plan.

I believe in looking for the positives; when plans change without warning, when people disappoint us, when we are thrust onto paths we never wanted to travel and into circles we never knew existed.

I believe that our indoctrination into the world of Rare Diseases came with an invitation to sit back or step forward.  We choose to step forward.  I believe we will make a difference.

hope its in our genes

I believe in prayer, and God, and miracles, and angels – and I am not ashamed or embarrassed to say so.

I believe in a God that doesn’t plan for bad things to happen, and who cries with us when they do.  I believe that same God will give us the strength to get through the trials and tragedies and all our adversity – if only we ask.

god helps us handle

I believe in angels, and speak regularly of my cousin Meghan, our guardian angel.  But, I also believe there are armies of angels around us.  I am thinking especially today about the father and his 4-year-old daughter that were hit by a fire truck at the same intersection I had my accident in November.  Nothing short of angels pulled them both from the car – shaken and banged up, but very much alive.

crash

I believe in miracles-large and small.   I have witnessed at least one large one,  when my sister’s beautiful niece pulled through a very scary life threatening virus 2 years ago.  I believe that miracles happen every day – all around us.  But every day I witness miracles, as the flowers bud, and the birds fly, and the children grow.

life is like a bicycle

I believe that adversity can only define us if we let it.  Our struggles surely shape us, as we grow each day – but how we handle them affects us, and the people around us.  I believe that Cowden’s Syndrome – through my daughter’s diagnosis, saved my life.  I believe that PTEN mutations, and broken tumor suppressor genes are scary – but not “hide under the bed” scary.  They are more like “you can try that roller coaster you don’t like” scary.

A roller coaster ride!
A roller coaster ride!

I believe we are allowed to be frustrated and sad and angry and mad.  Every single one of us – sometimes.  I believe that life can be very, very, very hard.  Overwhelming at times.  But, I also believe in doing my best to channel that energy, and teaching my daughter to do the same.

life is not a measure of days

I believe in smiling more than frowning.  I tell Meghan that she will draw more people to her with a smile on her face.  She listens.

I believe that good things can come from unexpected change.  New friendships and old ones become more solid when tested.  People you never expected can go to bat for you – and look out for you.

I believe in surrounding myself with people who are “real.”  Who say what they mean, and mean what they say.  I believe in surrounding myself with people who have all types of beliefs, as long as they have a kind heart and are true to themselves.

I believe in speaking out about my own life, and my own experiences; whether they are medical, allergies, emotional, physical because keeping them inside doesn’t help a soul.

I believe writing helps me channel my own energy into a productive outlet.  I believe I will spend every day on this earth in some way thinking, addressing, or working through a medical issue for Meghan or I.  I believe – if I stay focused it will not consume me. (Although from time to time I may need some help!)

toxins

I believe that people who are only in this life to gossip and spread lies and false information are toxic.

I have made a pact to rid my life of toxins.  I believe with a lot of determination it can be done!

 

Moving Forward

May 16th for years has had a special place in my heart.

In 1985 my cousin Meghan was born.  I was in the 6th grade and giddy to get to know her.  I never could have known at the time that her life would be tragically cut short after a more than 4 year battle with leukemia.

"Angel Meghan" - 1987
“Angel Meghan” – 1987

Her feisty nature,  her smile, her spirit, and her strength have always been an inspiration to me, and it was an honor years later, to be able to name my daughter after the spirited young girl who became an angel at 6 and a half, on my 18th birthday.

My daughter carries so many of the characteristics that endeared my cousin to me.  She is the same kind of spirit, who lights up a room, and makes everyone smile by being around them.  She endures medical procedures sparsely batting an eye, and accepts the reality of her life with grace.

My Meghan - Spring 2004

Last year on May 16th I was at NYU hospital, just 10 weeks after my bilateral mastectomy, undergoing a complete hysterectomy.  I knew that day I had the prayers of my family, and the strength of my angel by my side.

I have a “thing” for dates.  I remember numbers.  Maybe this is how my love of math shows through.  I like answers, and things that are absolute, or make some sense.  Maybe my recognition of dates, and anniversaries is a way of marking time – or maybe its a way of celebrating.  These anniversaries that I remember – some sad, others bittersweet, have shaped me as a person.  They are all pieces of that every evolving puzzle.

I thought about the surgery this morning.  I thought about it being a full year since all my “girl parts” were officially gone.  I thought of the perils of the hysterectomy recovery and how in so many ways this was a tougher surgery for me.  Then I thought about my relief, and how much less of a cancer risk I am than I was a year ago.  And I got dressed with a smile.

happy hysterecomy

I thought about Angelina Jolie.  I thought about how happy I am for her – that she was able to make an empowered decision to get out in front of her breast cancer risk.  I thought about how happy I am that she has brought genetic testing into light.

But a few things have really bothered me.

PTEN mutations (Cowden’s Syndrome and the sister disorders) carry with them the same imminent breast cancer risk.  I myself had been tested for BRCA1  years before I ever knew of PTEN. I was negative.  The genetic counselor who tested me did not even have PTEN on her radar screen.  I know its rare – I do.  But I have to believe this is the opportune time to at least educate the medical professionals, if not the public, on the reality that there are other genetic mutations that carry imminent cancer risks.  I am sure there are more that I haven’t learned about yet.  Let’s use this opportunity to raise awareness not only of the “popular” genetic mutations, but of the others as well.  Had my daughter never been diagnosed, by the well educated geneticist – it is likely I would not be here to write this today.

I am also bothered by the haters.  You know the haters.  The “Monday morning quarterbacks.”

They have crept out in quantity and I have a few words for them too.

BUTT OUT!

butt out

If you don’t like the idea of a prophylactic mastectomy – then don’t have one.  Plain and simple.

If you don’t like the idea of a complete hysterectomy at 38 because the alternative was 4x a year – yes you read that right- 4x a year SURGICAL uterine biopsies, then don’t have one.

When you live with the Sword of Damocles hanging above your head every day, when you have to go about your business, and work, and raise a child, and pay bills, and shop and function with the feeling of impending doom that is sometimes hard to shake – when you have a diagnosis of a genetic mutation that is not going away no matter what you do.  Then, maybe then you and I can talk.

damocles

Until then,  wish Angelina a good long healthy life.  Look up “genetic mutations that cause cancer” or “The Global Genes Project” or “The National Association for Rare Disorders.”  Get a feel for what we go through every single day of our lives.

You probably wouldn’t know us if you passed us on the street.  We are some of the strongest and bravest and smartest people you will ever lay eyes on.  We stop and smell the roses.  We hug.  We smile.  We laugh.  We get how fleeting life is.

May 16th will always be a significant day for me.

But, moving forward -so will every day.  The first year is over.  Now on with the rest of our lives!

************************************************************

In case you are interested…

http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/a+sword+of+Damocles+hangs+over+head (Sword of Damocles)

http://globalgenes.org/ (Global Genes Project)

http://www.rarediseases.org/ (National Association of Rare Disorders)

https://www.facebook.com/ptenworld?fref=ts (Facebook Page for PTEN world)

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy – Not just for the movie stars

I have been busy this week – working a on a few new projects.  Trying to find some distracting hobbies.  I need a few things to every once in the while take the focus off the imminent cancer risks plaguing Meghan and I every second of every day.

So, I started talking a lot about Isagenix, the product that did so much to give my husband back his health, and to help him lose over 30 pounds in the process.

This week I have signed up four friends to try to get healthy with Isagenix, and I feel good about advocating a high quality product.

http://meghanleigh8903.isagenix.com/us/en/landing_cfl.html#

Isagenix

This week involved hosting an anniversary party for two overly deserving parents.  It also involved some run of the mill nonsense – dealing with ridiculous medical bills and the like, from people who will never “get” what it means to have to spend every day of your life out in front of a chronic, potentially life threatening rare disease, PTEN Hamartoma Tumor Syndrome – or Cowden’s Syndrome, as we usually refer to it.

I do my best every day, to raise awareness of what it is like to live with a rare disease, a genetic mutation that predisposes my daughter and I to so many cancers.  I do my best, wearing proudly our denim ribbon, and sharing ribbons with friends and family, to educate the community on our, and other Rare Diseases.

hope its in our genes

Now, I know its slow going, but I am confident that more people in our community have heard about Cowden’s Syndrome than just a year ago.  Of that I am sure.  And we will continue our grassroots effort – one person at a time.  Until hopefully, one day everyone will know of the “Global Genes Project,” and the 7.000+ Rare Diseases besides ours that are out there.

Today I sat down at a scoring site for the State Math Exam, and two girls I never met before feverishly gushed over the bravery of Angelina Jolie.  Having heard nothing of the story, I asked what all the fuss was about.

English: Angelina Jolie at the Cannes film fes...
English: Angelina Jolie at the Cannes film festival. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“She had a preventative double mastectomy because she has a gene that makes it more than 80% likely she will get breast cancer.  She is so brave!”

I smiled in spite of myself.  I smiled in spite of the irony that had me wearing the T shirt “Yes, these are fake – the real ones tried to kill me!”

yes_theyre_fake_real_ones_tried_to_kill_me_light_t

I smiled because I thought it was great that Angelina was well and had gone public.

“You know she decreased her breast cancer risk to under 5% now?  She is so brave!  I can’t imagine anyone doing that!”

I still kept quiet.  I quickly checked my Emails to reveal that the blogs I follow regularly were all over the Aneglina story and had eloquently covered it.  I listened some more.

Finally, almost on cue, they got bored with their story and asked me about my necklace – the denim ribbon.

meg necklace3

I told them I my daughter and I had a rare genetic disease.  That the denim ribbon was the symbol for rare and genetic disorders.  They asked what the name of it was.  So as I identified “Cowden’s Syndrome,” the expected reply was given.  “I haven’t heard of that.”

“Well,” in my most succinct conversational tone, “PTEN is a gene that stops tumor growth.  Ours is broken so we are more likely to get cancerous and non cancerous tumors all over our bodies.  Especially in the breast, thyroid, and uterus.”

“YOU MEAN YOU HAVE THE SAME GENE BROKEN AS ANGELINA JOLIE???”

(Having not fully read any article I quick double checked my suspicions and confirmed,) “No, she has a mutation on the BRCA1 gene. My daughter and I have the same 85% risk of breast cancer, as well as countless other elevated cancer risks.”

“Well if you ever have to get a mastectomy at least you’ll know Angelina did it.”

You know I never much followed the stars.  And I am so grateful for Angelina Jolie for being brave and going public.  But there is so much more people need to learn.  Nothing comes in neat little packages.  Nothing.

I stretched out my shirt so they could read. “Yes – they’re fake , the real ones tried to kill me!”

are there any other mutations

“I had my double mastectomy.  Last year.  They found cancer.  And I am ok.  Genetic mutations aren’t just for movie stars.  Bravery isn’t just for those who have wealth and power.  There are more of us than you think.”

I was grateful when the tests arrived at the table.  It changed the conversation.  People don’t want to talk about cancer.  Especially not young women with genetically caused cancer.  It makes them uncomfortable.

I am glad Angelina Jolie went public.  I just wish the public would open their eyes to the realities that are undoubtedly right next to them every single day.  It doesn’t take a star.  Just a conversation.

Let’s talk.  Let’s listen.  Let’s learn.  We can save lives.

“Count Your Many Blessings…”

“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.

rare supermoms

 

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.

Mom and Ken anniversary

 

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…”

HappyMothersDay

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_Greatest_Bles_4bce6cc17bc3d

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

And, oh do I have many!

 

History – Where it all began

Yep.  That’s what it is.  It’s history.  The story of our lives for the past year.  It started in a small blog I shared only with a few friends.  It blossomed into a WordPress blog with 50 followers, and a Facebook group with over 225.

I am humbled really – that anyone is even interested in our story.

I am grateful and excited for what we are doing to raise awareness of rare diseases like our Cowden’s Syndrome.

I wrote my very first blog post on May 9th of 2012.

Very few of you were with me then – but this is where it all began.

For the next two weeks I plan to “replay” some of my favorite/most informative blogs from the early days.

Hope my nostalgia doesn’t drive anyone away!

CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW FOR  A TRIP BACK TO MAY OF 2012!

https://beatingcowdens.com/2012/05/09/

The Circle of Three

circle of three

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.

watch me

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!

Grateful for my circle of three!
Grateful for my circle of three!

Our Digital Footprint

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.

digital footprint 3

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.

digital footprint 2

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.

digital footprint

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!

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.