Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Deep breath

I'm still stinging and feeling nauseous. I wish I knew how to speak of this in a useful way. I wish I hadn't been so... what. Trusting? I don't wish that. I believed I had reason to place my trust where I did and I did not do so blindly. What then? Perhaps that's the thing that has tipped me on my head -- I don't know how to respond to this.

I feel a gazillion whirling things. Blinding rage at being played for a fool. Eviscerating, debilitating sorrow at the shame others must have felt that led to the choice to lie. Sadness at unspeakable and completely needless loss. Bewilderment at being judged a poor risk -- else why keep this so carefully buried? Am I really likely to hurl back razor blades upon revelations of vulnerability? Am I giving off some indication that I'll morph into some mythical howling monster if my understanding of things is challenged? I guess I keep coming back to an odd, imperfect compassion -- as wretched as I've felt over this, how horrible would it be to be the persons keeping a secret they believe will destroy them and everything around them if it gets out? How much must those people have suffered in doing so?

And that part breaks me. I cannot begin to understand the amount of suffering already borne over this. I know only my own, parts of others, and can guess at that of the extended circle(s). It defies perception. That part, the suffering part, is pure, distilled evil. Perhaps that thought brings me full circle, to this. It's the only thing I've got any say in -- a renewed commitment to end the suffering, to not engage in storms created by anyone, anywhere, to lay it down, over and over again, until the motion of it becomes so fluid that I don't even notice myself doing so.

Oy vey. Deep breath. Here we go, then.

(Please God, let it be...)

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Opportunities for personal growth

Yuck. I learned something tonight that is merely a confirmation of things I'd long suspected. Here are some of the existential questions that formed immediately in my head.

Do we actually "deserve" anything? Is it true, for example, that a person can actually "deserve better than ______"? I'm beginning to think that no one "deserves" anything. Respect for each other as humans may be sort of the last remaining arguable point. Weird.

How does one focus when one instead would like to behave with shocking anger toward certain persons? I'm becoming accustomed to the feeling of having my outer layers peeled off, tired of it as I may be, so I'm sure I'll be fine, but really -- what is the process of focusing oneself while under duress?

And how about lying to cover something up, whether by omission or commission? Is a lie really worse than the actual thing? For me it totally is, for too many reasons to go into. In fact, it's all about the lie. Yes indeed it is. Does a person being scared of the consequences if they do not lie mitigate it at all? Usually. I think in this case it would have.

How about ego? Does the fact that things reflect on us steer us toward a less reasonable response? Yes. It does for me. Perhaps this is why I would cut oodles of slack for someone who was afraid of excoriation if the truth emerged -- I don't like being made a fool of and it horrifies me to think I may have at any time, under any circumstances, contributed to someone else feeling that, so compassion seems in order when thinking about forgiveness, be it for lying or whatever.

Is it true that people can repair literally any relationship thing, so long as they choose to? I think it is true. I used to believe this without a flicker of doubt anywhere on the horizon. Speaking for myself, I'd say that part of my ability to do so would depend on the amount of kindness any other person(s) involved were willing to extend. Hostile folk are not fun to work with and tend to be impossible to please. They're often caught up in justifying something. If you're busy justifying something, humility and dedication don't really have a place in the process.

It's times like this that I fantasize about having the kids grown and settled, successfully educated, happy, gainfully employed. In this fantasy I have a current passport, a kick butt backpack, and a nice toothbrush. Maybe a good camera. Khakis and boots? Yes. And good snorkel gear, a water purification system, maybe a satellite phone -- in case of grandchildren. I think that will cover it. I'll grow my hair to my ankles or shave my head -- for ease of travel. I'll have a cheap retirement. Far, far, far away -- maybe riding freighters around French Polynesia. Hey -- maybe by then space travel will be an option. I can go along and clean bathrooms to pay my fare!

It's always good to have a back-up plan.

Friday, August 14, 2009

One down, one to go

The first week of fine arts academy is over.

We are exhausted, but thrilled with the cool stuff that's happened so far. The bigger kids helped shepherd through a couple dozen children from a local Boys and Girls club. They all did choir (including a very cool rap piece), and then guitar, percussion, and art. It was a mad sprint, with the kids arriving every day by bus -- public transportation being not especially timely, meaning that each class was a juggling exercise. But we had an artist come in and do a brief demonstration -- he'll be back for more next week.

One of the leaders commented to me when they arrived that they never get decent art supplies. Score! We're delivering sketch books, pencils, and newsprint pads along with their matted work and other completed pieces late this next week (they needed time to dry before transport).

What an incredible opportunity to have been involved in this, a volunteer effort funded by the people who put together the organization that makes the yearly Christmas outreach possible -- His Kids.

I need to say a huge public thank-you to all the people who have helped to make this possible -- friends and family for the home and Q parts (including grandma rearranging her work schedule to be here), and all the wonderful people who just kept popping in and asking how they could be of help. Are there lovelier words in the English language than "What can I do?" Maaaybe. Right now, those get top billing.

Next week will be longer days, more involved classes, more paint and paper and water and mats and mess and literally running from one thing to the next, taking three flights of stairs, three steps at a time. But the backdrop is done, and the four banners hung and waiting only for the collage additions from the next classes, the materials are all purchased and organized and ready, locked up safe in the pastor's study.

I don't know who's more excited, me or the kids, but it's hard to imagine being more excited than me right now. We get to sketch in a cathedral this week. Swoon.

Night, now. Gotta sleep fast -- I have more pieces to hang before services start in the morning.

XO.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Ha!

Too funny -- and maybe a little too close to home for those of us whose fingers are still healing from that last buckling in experience?

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Roar

"And who will suffer the most when they ration care? The sick, the elderly, and the disabled, of course. The America I know and love is not one in which my parents or my baby with Down Syndrome will have to stand in front of Obama’s “death panel” so his bureaucrats can decide, based on a subjective judgment of their “level of productivity in society,” whether they are worthy of health care. Such a system is downright evil."

Sarah Palin, posting on Facebook

We have some things in common. She's mom to five, the youngest both a sweet surprise and developmentally disabled. I looked forward to hearing more from her, thinking that like any parent finding themselves in such an unfamiliar role, she'd take a little time to find her feet, but would have her own unique experience to share as baby Trig grew and their family learned to navigate the new normal.

I ordinarily stay leagues away from discussing politics, here or anywhere else. The fallout tends to be extreme. We attach easily to our political beliefs, imbuing candidates with characteristics they don't possess, good or evil, and somehow arrive at conclusions that are not always reasonable, but are almost always intense and strongly held. I'm unwilling to sacrifice friendships for ideology, especially when it's impossible to fully grasp another person's experience and appreciate what leads him or her to form a particular opinion, especially when any moral implications of a particular position seem murky.

But this, now, is not murky for me.

Ms. Palin does not seem to understand what she is talking about.

I do not wish to discuss the bigger picture of healthcare reform, except to say this: I am speaking from personal experience -- as mom to a kid with significant health issues, now former wife to med student/MD, relative to primary care providers, friend of specialists and their families. The system now is so broken that primary care physicians, physician assistants, nurse practitioners, and etc. spend a great deal of their precious time simply handling administrative baloney in order to be paid (and not especially well) for their work. This means their field isn't so attractive to new grads, which means your odds in finding a great primary care person drop every year. You may have discovered this for yourself. Wait times for specialists are also long and growing. We do not currently experience a panacea in this America we love. There is something better, something probably not yet named, which will be brought about only by earnest discussion between thoughtful people who demonstrate a willingness to ask questions, wait for the answers, ask follow-up questions, wait for those answers, push for their families' best interests and those of the nation (not necessarily opposing interests), preferably by using words which show that they've read and want to understand something that looks nothing like shrieking hyperbole. Something which is driven by things bigger than fear. Moving on...

The America I know and love already rations care.

Q would benefit from a dozen or more hours of therapies every week. He is a sweet, bright, cheerful, hardworking little punkin, in a non-verbal, uncooperative body. He currently spends one hour in Speech, one hour in OT, and two hours in PT every week. This last is only because we have a super PT who is driven by his faith to help whomever he can, convenient or no, and because I keep pushing, asking for extra hours whenever they're available. Because I'm pushing, Q gets an extra hour of Speech each week for the month of August. The wait lists for those trying to get into therapies for the first time or to restart treatment are months long, sometimes over a year. Medicaid (SSI) reimburses at a rate much lower than private insurance. Private insurance often allows a max of twelve therapy sessions per discipline, per year, even for kids with permanent issues.

Q's neurologist redirected us at NICU from the Medicaid chute (to one of the local children's hospitals) to his other office, specifically so he could spend more time with Q per visit. He still receives only the Medicaid reimbursement for a tiny time slot, but spent 55 minutes with Q and me at the last appointment. This is his Modus Operandi. Imagine then the wrangling he does with that hospital that he's billing through for having spent such a ridiculous amount of time with one Medicaid patient. Imagine then what that takes away from all the other emergency phone calls he takes from parents of children in Status Epilepticus. Imagine how your private insurance in effect pays for my kid's time. Well, after his office staff finishes arguing about whether or not they get paid at all.

But I digress.

The only sentences from Ms. Palin's argument with which I agree are these: "Such a system is downright evil." You bet it is. It is here, already. And there's no question that we're all positioned to affect something about the outcome of the current discussion. But nowhere on any table is rationing as she states it.

And this: "We must step up and engage in this most crucial debate." You bet. I so viscerally hope that by this she means that she's committing to choosing her words carefully, taking seriously her new position on the national stage, understanding that she can incite riot or encourage thoughtful discourse.

Perhaps the thing which most upsets me about this is that she has a unique voice here, being the very public parent to a child with Special Needs. She has a few things upon which to decide. Does she want her kids in or out of the spotlight? Will she be willing to put Trig there when she's unwilling to insert the others into a similar position? Is this hypocrisy? Is she interested in seeking quality care for her kids and being a voice for others? Is family privacy more important? Are the words she's choosing to use towards others being received by them the same way she and her family received damaging words during and following the campaign? Will she be willing to reassess her positions on everything, in order to develop her own, thorough, personal understanding of the new issues in her family?

I do not necessarily believe that gaining a kidlet with SN changes everything about who you are. I think it's rather like getting a new pair of glasses -- it merely reveals what was already there. In this case, that includes crossroads that one might never face otherwise. As a SN parent, will you cower when someone looks askance at your child? Will you deal with your situation and the people closest to you with affection and humor or with defensiveness and frustration? Those emotions and responses are ever present, always available for the choosing. But it confounds people when we complete a Costco run smiling, even when stuff spills or Q has puked on his spit rag. Sometimes I leave stores with tears barely bitten back, but mostly it's because of kindnesses, even if misdirected. Screaming back at someone who stares a little too long, who comments behind a hand, whatever, does nothing to change the world. It does not make my children braver, or kinder, or more resilient. I can snark with the best of them (ask around), but it gains me nothing, and my kids and the world even less.

This is the part that catches my attention because it is where I dwell, and a thing to be wrestled with. Speaking not just about Sarah... If you believe yourself to be a whole person, intact and uniquely created, act. it. out. You are secure in the knowledge that your Creator is in charge and that nothing in this world can erase that? Then there remains nothing in the world that can hurt you. No president, no weapon, no person. Come quietly, showcasing the intelligence he granted you, from a position of strength beyond measure, and rock the place like it's never been rocked before. Stand. The river moves, but it does not move you. Reflect His mercy, grace, kindness, and willingness to sit down even with Pharisees. Even with prostitutes, drug dealers, murderers. Even with Congress. Call upon him for knowledge and patience and humility when approaching your enemies. Bring the magnificent brain he created just for you and use it til it hurts from stretching to understand as he would. It is difficult but useful beyond human comprehension to be circumspect without being a wimp. You claim this as yours? Then claim it moment by moment, pray and meditate without ceasing, make yourself new in his image as he calls you to, refreshing yourself from the constant wellspring that is his healing.

I believe that each of us will be led differently, according to our own path and his plan for us. This means that you may well disagree thoroughly with me. I'm good with that. But whomever you are, do not speak, in a manner which seems to me to be uninformed at best, about something with which you have little experience so far. Do not use your position, intentionally or by default, to enrage people with words that are demonstrably false. It is wrong to do so.

That's all I've got. I hope some of it makes sense. I may have to spend another post footnoting addendums (addenda?) and explanations, but Life is calling.

ETA: (Told ya.) "If you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view . . . until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." --Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird. (hat tip to Pam for the timely article...)

I wish Ms. Palin and her sweet babies well. Her path is not an easy one.

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Good reading

"I’m apparently one of the few remaining people on the face of the earth who thinks emotional truth is not the same as actual truth and not even within shouting distance of fact. If we all define our own truth based on what “feels” accurate then we really are living in a postmodern world where, as Brad Holland put it:

'Postmodernists believe that truth is myth, and myth, truth. This equation has its roots in pop psychology. The same people also believe that emotions are a form of reality. There used to be another name for this state of mind. It used to be called psychosis.' "

--Firebrand

Go. Read. Think.

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

A toast

The kind of certainty of self-worth and presence of mind that this woman demonstrated when the chips were down is amazing. I hope to cultivate exactly that level-headedness, centered-ness, whatever that thing is. It is a huge and worthy thing to strive toward. If it applied to marriage only, well, whatever. That ship sailed. For me.

But I suspect that it applies to everything. I suspect that I won't be having a boring life, whatever else one might call it (Q's swallow study has been un/re/not scheduled again). I'm betting that I'll have plenty of opportunity to use those skills, that steady, kind mindset, with my kids, with whatever professional endeavors might come up, with friends. I suppose that this is part of my wondering about that little voice, calling me to change, to growth, to "becoming."

Or how about being able to receive that kind of grace, humbly, with humor, speaking of it and answering the tough questions when the dark clouds have passed? Should she have let him go because he "didn't want her"? Some would give a resounding yes, not even beginning to grasp what she had to pull up from the earth by it's very roots, to have answered his demands the way she did. Perhaps that works for those people...

I wonder if one must move to Montana and/or wrangle 1500 lb. horses in order to be that person?

To a genuine, grown up woman. May we each be one, someday.

(What a thing that would be, huh? All kinds of world-class nonsense would fall, were we leading the daily charge with Love. No small l's. Only Love.)

Hat tip to Abbey for the article link.