My Head Hurts

2009 can go ahead and end as far as I'm concerned. I am SO over it... It has been a very difficult and rude year. Not one I'll be thinking of with Auld Lang Syne in 2010. Holy crap...

Those of you still reading already know WHY 2009 blows chunks. No point in reiterating it again. Really... no point.

I'm angry. Really fucking angry. Mind numbingly angry. It's stupid to be that angry. It fixes nothing and chokes the soul, but oddly I'm finding solace in the the frisson of being this angry. It kind of numbs things. Like a persistent white noise blocking out the pain.

Yes, it's lame to be this angry, but you know what? I'm tired of being scared. Tired of worrying and tired of failing so I'm gonna be really good at being angry. I come from a long line of angry people. I've perfected "Angry Old Lady Face" years ago. The face where the lines of disappointment form a halo around razor thin lips and the furrow of the brow has Grand Canyon depths. I'm REALLY good at that face- ask Randy.

I sometimes wonder if Grandma was as bitter and hard as I remember. If she was really that severe and if she was, was she always that way? Was she born with some kind of aggro-gene that formed her or was she worn down like a glacier. Sorrow and disappointment wearing on her like little erosion filled rivers. Siphoning all the happiness of life from her face.

I KNOW Grandma was happy. I remember her as happy, but I also remember how severe she seemed and how she is remembered. Remembered by her family- very different than how she was seen by her fellow church goers and collegues.

I can remember the day we buried her. A dark and dreary day. Her Memorial was an event for her church. HUGE really. There I stood shaking hands with people I'd never met and listening to them tell stories of a woman I wasn't sure I'd ever met. A laughing and joyful woman. Person after person giving their condolences to me for a woman I wasn't sure I knew.

At the private burial, we all gathered around her plot. Feet sinking in the water logged grass and the heavens did their best to drown us. And we prayed. We were praying over a large bouquet of yellow roses. It was all very solemn and all I could do was laugh. Yes, laugh. Roses? Seriously? Grandma was a strong and forthright woman of impeccable manners and morals. She was NOT a rose. My mother had to pinch me to keep from laughing too loud.

Terrible I know. But all these years later I still think about it. I still giggle, but at the same time I worry. Who will I be when I die and how will I be remembered. How will my loved ones remember me? Will they too be shocked to hear what people say about me and feel like they are at the funeral of someone they don't know? Or will everyone know me and still not have fond memories? Should I care? Perhaps, perhaps not.

But I'm angry. I'm so angry it hurts and fills my soul. Will it begin to wear me down too? Will I become an embittered old lady? Hell, an embittered middle aged broad? I don't know and frankly, right now, I'm not sure I care.

I think I like being angry and I think that's not a good thing.... my head hurts...

What I Did Over My Summer Vacation...

Well... where to begin... at the beginning I assume.

Our trip to Japan was amazing; filled with so many sights and pieces of history and culture. I am in awe of such an interesting and beautiful place. I really hope to go again someday. I missed so much...

During our trip it became very obvious to Randy and me that Abby was going through something odd. She was always thirsty and had to use the potty ALL the time. Inevitably when we were waiting for a train. She was tired too, but we thought that was because of the time change. So many things going on at once.

Things got better when we came home. She was feeling some better, but was still thirsty and running to the potty. Over the month of July she changed. She grew thin and tired and grumpy. Finally, one weekend she stayed over at her Grandmothers and Grammy indicated she was worried about how skinny Abby was. I was taken aback- She's not skinny I thought. But then I really looked at her. She had a big growth spurt, but this was too skinny. I booked a Dr's appt. for that Wednesday.

When we went in that Wednesday we learned that in the past 4 months, she had lost 4 pounds. Approximatley 10% of her body weight. If any of us had done that, we would have noticed, but she is so small and had had a growth spurt.The Dr ordered several blood tests that would have to be done the next morning and Abby had to be fasting. She was worried about several possibilities.

So the next morning Randy and I took Abby to get her blood work done- poor girl had to go through 2 needle pokes and 6 vials of blood.That was at 9 am. By lunch time we were starving again and had decided to go to Ikea. While we were in line for our yummy lunch Randy get a call. He beckons us outside and by the look in his eyes I know my life has changed forever.

We were instructed to go directly to the hospital. Don NOT feed her. Go. GO NOW.
We were admitted and sent up to the Peidatric ward. No one told us why exactly we were there. We kind of knew, but no one had told us explicitly. It wasn't until I spoke up to a nurse that she explained... Abby was diagnosed as Type 1 Diabetic.

I HATE needles. HATE. Go into vapors HATE. I used to think having to give myself daily shots would be my own personal hell... ha ha fooled you. Having to give my child shots daily IS my own personal hell.

We spent 4 days in hospital. Abby adjusted quickly. I kept crying at inopportune times. I'd have to go into the bathroom and silently sob. Sometimes, as I drove home to shower, I'd simply leak sound. Like a keening weeping moan. It was weird and I couldn't help it.

In 4 days we were expected to learn how to give injections, carb count and use the glucose meter. We were given so much information and became totally overwhelmed. On the night before 2nd grade we were discharged with a stack of paperwork, prescriptions and a "good luck with that." To be fair, the nurses in the hospital were AMAZING and supportive, but no parent can ever feel prepared enough for this.

So now were are no longer a "normal" family... We are "Abby-Normal". We carb count religiously. Carry around a kit of insulin and other diabetic need everywhere we go. I have gotten used to giving as many as 4 shots a day. We know what the different kinds of insulins do and what new technology is coming. We've decided that our life has changed, but our life hasn't stopped.

Abby is the most amazing little girl I've met. She approaches her Diabetes with a light heart and a shrug, "It's just Diabetes" she says. She hugs ME and tells ME everything will be ok.

Some days are better than others, but we are learning. We've learned what to look for when she she may be having a low blood sugar. Abby can test her own sugar level and prep her insulin pen. She knows more about eating healthy than any kid I know.

My parent and In-laws have all taken a proactive approach. They learn everything they can and know how to care for our special needs child. Alexander is still concerned for his sisters health. He wouldn't stop holding her hand when we brought her home.

We've learned about the common misconceptions between Type 1 and Type 2 Diabetes. It's so odd to realize how truly ignorant we were before Diabetes touched our lives.

I pray that the new advances in research will find a cure. They say we are close and it may happen in our life time. I pray it does, but until then, we will carry on. Because really, there is no other choice.

Pot and Kettle

Recently I've been commiserating with a friend about the "things left undone" in our life. The fear of failure, the angst of perfection. As we talked and I did my best o be encouraging, I realized we were a little like the pot and the kettle. We both have the skill and desire, but we were both just waiting. "Waiting for what?", I'd say! "Go for it!", I'd say! Rah, rah sis boom bah! Wait a minute.... the same goes for me. What am I waiting for? Go for it? I blocked out the cheer leading imagery- it was a little disconcerting. but still valid.

Ok so... What AM I waiting for?

hmmmmm.....

Well I've decided I'm done waiting for nothing. I'm gonna do it. Now granted my idea isn't exactly a one person gig, but I think I may just have the crew lined up. Really? With the crew lined up I don't have much in the way of excuses now do I? Uh oh. Oh dear!

Ok... well here goes nothin really- because it's better than the nothin I was doing before-

Hey Kettle, this is Pot calling- We've got an adventure in store so let's get ready to rock!

Yeah I know its corny, but whatever- I'm beginning to like corny in my old age.

I'm Still Here Part 2

May/June-
Costumed 40 people for Pirates- Opened Pirates!
Finished up the end of year stuff at school.
Started to pack for Japan.
My Father ends up in the hospital emergency room practically bleeding to death- TWICE.
Freak out about going to Japan.
Go to Japan.

July-
Come Home- go to work.
Learn that we may be forced to furlough 2 days a month.

Woohoo! CRAZY world still goes round and round...

Proud Mama

I am a VERY proud Mama. Abby did well for her first vocal recital and in a little twist of fate, "Maybe" is the same song I sang for a recital once, when I was her age.

Enjoy-