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Risk Of

23 Jun

The other day, when I accompanied Cole (my disabled son) to the airport to fly to Oregon for a white water kayaking experience, I had the daunting task of taking my hands off his care and entrusting his well being to himself.  …Please take a moment to pause at this sentence and consider that I am a mother, who loves her son.  Period.

Pause, pause, pause, pause.

I was standing next to Cole at the Jet Blue gate, while he was sitting in a wheelchair holding his USMC backpack and his cane.  He was awaiting the escort who would take him to the taxiing jet.  When the escort arrived, Cole was juggling his boarding pass along with the other two items mentioned.  I found myself ready and eager to assist with suggestions for a more efficient and safe ride to the plane EXCEPT, the USMC emblem on the pack reminded me of who my son is and who he isn’t.

He is a capable and experienced human being.  He is not a feeble unaware teenaged child.  He is a burgeoning man who has several travel experiences, without his mommy and daddy, under his belt.  He is not without knowledge of how to hold a ticket, backpack, and cane while being escorted via wheelchair through corridors–after all, he traveled to Nicaragua in January just after having had an eye surgery!  He is his own being.  He is not mine.

As I caught myself and halted my intrusive actions, I waved goodbye and watched him pass through the door with himself as his advocate and a stranger for an escort.  I turned toward the exit and coaxed myself through the door with the above reminders guiding my every step back to the parked car.  Had Cole been underage, I would have stayed until the airplane lifted off the ground.  But again, he is not that little boy any more, so I kept walking.  In my journey to the roof top of the parking structure I reminisced about the last email sent to us from the camp Cole was off to (www.firstdescents.org).  It was an email with a waiver attached that was mandatory he sign in order to attend.  It was a “Risk Of…” waiver.  Essentially, as you can fathom with a white water kayak camp, the waiver covered any and all possible risks of injury, illness, and potential death.  He had to sign his life away in order to live.  OK, that was a bit of a dramatic statement, but it works so I’ll leave it be.

Now at my car, I sat a moment in the silence ever so present due to the vacancy of the passenger seat.  And the idea of “risk of..” kept rolling over and over within my mind.  At that moment I wanted to express a profound prayer on my son’s behalf, but “risk of, risk of, risk of…” kept me from being able to land on continual thoughts which could possibly formulate into a petition to The Father to benefit my son.  And then I finally realized, “Yes, there is a ‘risk of’.  But that is a risk we all have to take, every day of our lives.  And Cole, fully aware, was interested in experiencing life despite the known perils.”  With the calm now present within my soul which came from the acceptance of the statement, I was ready to formulate a prayer.

“Lord, I pray Cole will have a good time.  And Lord, if he dies, I pray he dies happy…amen.”

I then turned on the car, drove out of the structure, and left the area before the plane took off.  Knowing full well the risks of the day, the hour, the moment, and the future.  Risks I’m willing to take and be a part of.  It is just plain old living.  Nothing new, no epiphany, just plain ‘ol livin’.

Cole called this morning.  He hasn’t yet been on the white water or in the kayak.  He has been sick to his stomach and very aware he is the only camper who is challenged physically, to the degree he is.  I handed the phone to my loving husband and walked away.  His dad gave him a pep talk over the phone and I am giving myself one still…

“Risk of, Rivka.  …risk of!”

 

 

Expired

13 Jun

There are several “markers” in my life which present themselves in such a way as to remind me of the fact the past five or so years have resembled that of a vortex, a whirling mass of something.  For instance, tonight I grabbed my ‘chili oil’ from the pantry to use in my dinner dish only to notice the expiration date was fall of 2007 (mind you I have used it several times since then).  Last month I began to wonder why my antiperspirant/deodorant was looking odd.  Upon closer inspection, “expired December 2010”; the probable cause of the yellowish hue and perhaps my new found “scent”.  Vitamins for Cole, expired November 2011.  ‘Get the Red Out’ eye-drops, expiration date of 2006–is that why it stung?.  I do believe I can even produce some well intended makeup which was purchased several years back when the inspiration to “do something about it” was a fresh idea…probably inspired by a glamorously airbrushed Vogue photo shoot.  Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing, out of date over a year ago.  And do you know what happens to yogurt when it is allowed to extend its shelf life several years?  How about lemon curd?  …let’s just leave those two alone because smelling the chili oil was bad enough!

Now when I come across such ‘expired’ items as the ones mentioned above, they serve to remind me that I have had cause, since about the beginning of 2007, to loose a bit of the hold on life that I once thought I had.  Now whether I did, or whether I didn’t could be discussed philosophically for hours…but that, my friends, would be a moot point.  And boring to say the least.  But if you take my word for it, you might come to understand–with a bit more clarity–how and why I could possibly be in possession of so many items which are used, and still useful, though quite past their guaranteed shelf life.  Just take a look at my week past, project the chaos of the days backward and forward and voilà, here I am.

The gist of the past several days went something like this:

Friday, June 8th–  Pick up car rental and head for northern California.  Get situated in the rental for the 6 hour drive to the bay area for the high school graduation of my nephew.  (Being the projected arrival was due to occur simultaneous to the processional, my long time friend planned to give us a dinner of salmon and flank steak to hold our position in the area of the school so we could meet up with the family afterwards).

1:00p.m. traffic on the 5 freeway north came to a halt.  We sat in one location for two hours; the perfect conditions for my ever loving husband to present to myself and our daughter the evils of marijuana smoking and his disdain for recreational drug use.  A “public speaking announcement” brought forth from his experience in the men’s bathroom just moments before at the Carls Jr. where we stopped for a moments relief and where he received more than his fair share of second-hand smoke.

3:00p.m. we were escorted off the freeway as the wildfire, which prevented our progress, continued to rage.  We were now faced with alternative routes.  Thanks to our friends in Bakersfield, we took a very long, though pleasurable, drive around the grapevine and ended up at their house for dinner somewhere close to 6(ish)p.m.  Tacos, friends, and a warm place to lay our heads…sorry to say goodbye to the salmon and flank, but glad to be so well received on such short notice with a hospitality that made the 7hour drive worth the while (it is normally a 3 hour drive tops, to Bakersfield from where we live).

Saturday, we finally made it to our original destination, Livermore, CA.  The house of my brother and the barbeque celebration of my nephew’s milestone.  We enjoyed the afternoon with family and then headed to the east bay for another party–a surprise birthday for my godmother.  We celebrated into the night and were part of the clean-up crew which continued the next day into the afternoon.  We had intended to leave for home on Sunday but were quite tired from the previous days events and two nights of intermittent sleep (no fault of our hosts, just the way it goes sometimes).  So it was decided, between the three of us, that we would stay another night in the bay area and then head home along the coast and take a couple of days for a leisurely Highway 1 adventure.  I was even willing to sleep overnight in the car if we couldn’t find a hotel along the way…the call of spontaneity was beckoning to me.

Monday morning, I awoke with a sore throat and we received a call from our son Cole.  Cole had intended to make the trek up north with us but hadn’t been feeling well a few days leading up to the trip and so opted out in order to rest.  His symptoms had continued to present themselves and he felt a visit with the doctor was in order.  Our friend (and neighbor) agreed to take Cole to the doctor at 10 that morning.  The doctor, alarmed by her assessment and Cole’s medical history, sent him directly to the ER for further testing.  And though we were on our way to the coast, via the 101 freeway, we instead took the Pacheco Pass (152) over to the 5 freeway and arrived at the hospital by 7(ish) p.m., in time to take our newly discharged, though not expired, son home.  After having a blood panel drawn and a CT scan with contrast, it seemed his symptoms are result of his brain tumor location.  And though we do our best to manage his diet for optimum health, the involuntary actions of the gastrointestinal system are under the mismanagement of a trauma induced malfunction.  We made it home, the four of us (our neighbor having spent his entire day with Cole, headed home upon our arrival at the hospital), Cole in need of drink and food and me, by this time, in need of my own personal box of Kleenex.

Tuesday (yesterday), it became apparent I had caught a flu bug of some sort which kept me in bed with a fever and my trusted box of tissues.  But even a day of illness could not stop the chaos…Esther called from the shoulder of the freeway, broken down on her way to work.  And after the car was towed home, Brian, while out test driving the car after making adjustments to it, was broken down and in need of a ride to the auto parts store.  Cole needed me to pick up a stool sample kit from the VA clinic and I just needed to sleep!

So you see, when I do grab something off of a shelf or out of a cabinet that in its ‘hey day’ provided a useful function of some sort but is now debunked by the outing of a date stamp, I am reminded that it is all Okay….yep, all of it.  I truly appreciate the notice of expiration because it validates the tourbillion of the past several years, and I wish each one of you were here with me as I toss the spoiled item, into the trash, and laugh at the ironic, but precious, reminder.  Ironic because I continued using the product as if it were fresh and viable while unknowingly its potency had been long exhausted.  And it is there, in its ‘invalidation’ that I find my own, ‘validation’.  Thank you FDA…

The Normal Translation

22 May

I have spent the majority of this day and last night’s eve contemplating my feelings of exhaustion.  Especially as I have had the good fortune of receiving more than an adequate nights sleep, several nights in succession.  Mind you, I am continuing my ‘full function’ of the days activities, but all the while dealing with the feeling of needing a nap.  The ideas I wrestle with are as minimally invasive as ‘do I need to take vitamins?’, to the more intrusive, ‘perhaps I have cancer’, thoughts.  To which I answer in the following manner; ‘if I do need vitamins I’m out of luck because I never follow through with taking them–yuck!’ AND, ‘if I do have cancer eating away at some part of my body, then I guess I’ll be dead in about a year.’  I know, I know, not exactly the type of “proactive” mentality I normally purport having.  I assure you, however, I examine my answers utilizing the most lighthearted thought process even though what comes forth resembles a rather melancholic tone.

At any rate, tonight I have discovered the source of my sandbags, the dip in my dew, the dent in my hull…otherwise considered the cause of my fatigue.  My new “normal” lives cautiously afloat the fragility of the health of my son, Cole.  And in my constant attendance to his well being, whether that attendance is in thought or deed, I see that I shoulder an amount of emotional stress which translates to–or manifests as–the demise of my stamina.  For instance, the fixed appointments of the day had to be cancelled due to Cole having had a hard night, last night.  His hard night was a result of severe nausea and abdominal pain.  And today, he tells me he has back pain and his symptoms increase when he lies down–the upset stomach symptoms.

Now in families where there has not been the trauma of a brain tumor thrust into their “normal”, nausea and abdominal pain equates to the flu or food poisoning…or quite possibility, appendicitis.  But not in my normal.  In MY normal, severe nausea and abdominal pain with an increase of symptomatology upon prostration means….need I really point it out?!

Entonces aqui estoy sentado al lado de mi hijo tratando tener confianza, fe, y esperanza en lo que no debe ser mi ‘normal’.  Espero que el tiene el gripe y nada mas.  Pero aqui estoy sentado, mirando, esperando, finjo tranquilidad pero con la sabiduría que quizas mas tarde o mañana vamos tener que visitar un doctor.  Y con ese normal, es dificil sentirme tranquilizo.

Did you catch that?  If not, the base of the meaning (though you can cut and paste into an online translator if you so desire), is that my norm is in constant motion.  And though I sit here on my couch wearing the appearance of docility, I am actually a good example of Newton’s laws of motion…perpetual and constant.  Which can quite possibly have a draining effect.  And being I have this new realization or epiphany (choosing to use the word wrapped in religion vs. simply derived from the French language), I will stop my ignorant complaints, for knowledge has filled the void of ignorance and to go about my days in wonderment as before, would be to act the fool.  ‘Oi Vay’… a tired fool is the worst of its kind!  And we don’t need a translator for that–she looks the same in any language! 😉  No, that will not be me.  I will attempt to embrace the fatigue and contemplate it no more.

“the sweet surrender to Norm”

**for those of you receiving this update on iphone or through email, I do have a youtube song attachment included.  …Enjoy!