My beautiful daughter all dressed up for the Social Christmas Dance. The other is my precious darling, Ainsley Dolin. I love that she giggles when I nuzzle her now and smiles when I play airplane. It's so fun being able to interact with her.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A Couple of Pictures
My beautiful daughter all dressed up for the Social Christmas Dance. The other is my precious darling, Ainsley Dolin. I love that she giggles when I nuzzle her now and smiles when I play airplane. It's so fun being able to interact with her.
Friday, January 29, 2010
That In-Between Stage
A couple of weeks ago, we were sitting around the table talking. The subject came up of me tucking them in at night. Dane commented how much it meant to him that I tuck him in while he's still awake. Daelyn said he preferred to have Daddy tuck him in. All of a sudden, I noticed Deanna was softly crying.
Tears were rolling, almost silently, down her face that had clouded up. I couldn't even imagine what had brought that on.
"Deanna," I asked, "what's wrong, honey?"
It took some time to get a response from her but, eventually, her true feelings bubbled out.
"You don't tuck me IN anymore," she blurted out.
This is one of those situations that you just instinctively understand must be handled very carefully.
"I didn't think you wanted me to tuck you in at night," I replied, very gently.
"Just because I'm not usually IN BED when you come to tuck me in, you stopped," she commented, a little accusingly.
"No, honey. That's not it. I always check in on the boys just before I go to bed, and I could you, too, but I thought you didn't want that anymore. For some reason, I got the impression YOU thought you were too old for that."
The tears began to well up again and poured harder than before.
"Mama," she sobbed, "I STILL need you to tuck me in."
WOW, I thought. Did I ever misread that one. I had figured that, now that she's 13 and goes to bed when she pleases, that connection with me had severed. I sure was wrong.
I quickly reassured her that I'd start tucking her in again. A few minutes later, after she pulled her emotions together, she looked at me hard.
"Mama, I know I'm getting older and there are a lot of things you let me do for myself, but I'm not ready to be grown yet. I still need to feel like your little girl."
If she could just understand how hard it's been for me to stay away from her room at night, she'd laugh, I'm sure. I'm trying so hard to let her grow up, and it's not very easy. Now I find that, at least in this way, that's not what SHE wants. She's at that inbetween stage, which I remember from my own life. She wants to be treated like an adult in some ways but not in others. She wants more responsibility and privileges, but she doesn't want things taken away that bring her comfort.
The path to her bedroom is well-worn again. Often, she's sound asleep, but as I make the sign of the cross on her forehead and whisper in the darkness that I love her, she often stirs and responds with an "I love you, too, Mommy".
Boy, am I thankful for that kitchen table and the conversations held around it. Much healing and togetherness has come of it. The Holy Spirit has taken full advantage of the hours we spend in the kitchen together.
Tears were rolling, almost silently, down her face that had clouded up. I couldn't even imagine what had brought that on.
"Deanna," I asked, "what's wrong, honey?"
It took some time to get a response from her but, eventually, her true feelings bubbled out.
"You don't tuck me IN anymore," she blurted out.
This is one of those situations that you just instinctively understand must be handled very carefully.
"I didn't think you wanted me to tuck you in at night," I replied, very gently.
"Just because I'm not usually IN BED when you come to tuck me in, you stopped," she commented, a little accusingly.
"No, honey. That's not it. I always check in on the boys just before I go to bed, and I could you, too, but I thought you didn't want that anymore. For some reason, I got the impression YOU thought you were too old for that."
The tears began to well up again and poured harder than before.
"Mama," she sobbed, "I STILL need you to tuck me in."
WOW, I thought. Did I ever misread that one. I had figured that, now that she's 13 and goes to bed when she pleases, that connection with me had severed. I sure was wrong.
I quickly reassured her that I'd start tucking her in again. A few minutes later, after she pulled her emotions together, she looked at me hard.
"Mama, I know I'm getting older and there are a lot of things you let me do for myself, but I'm not ready to be grown yet. I still need to feel like your little girl."
If she could just understand how hard it's been for me to stay away from her room at night, she'd laugh, I'm sure. I'm trying so hard to let her grow up, and it's not very easy. Now I find that, at least in this way, that's not what SHE wants. She's at that inbetween stage, which I remember from my own life. She wants to be treated like an adult in some ways but not in others. She wants more responsibility and privileges, but she doesn't want things taken away that bring her comfort.
The path to her bedroom is well-worn again. Often, she's sound asleep, but as I make the sign of the cross on her forehead and whisper in the darkness that I love her, she often stirs and responds with an "I love you, too, Mommy".
Boy, am I thankful for that kitchen table and the conversations held around it. Much healing and togetherness has come of it. The Holy Spirit has taken full advantage of the hours we spend in the kitchen together.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Hand
It's hard to believe it's been so long since I've posted, but my hand surgery made it so difficult to type, and I had so much work to get done in preparation for Christmas, that Blogging fell by the wayside. And I just went back and read my old Posts and discovered that I never wrote about my hand surgery.
Last spring, while out running errands with my Mom, a car door slammed shut on my left hand - the door hit the outside of my hand and threw the area below the thumb into the door jam. Both spots immediately began swelling. Over several weeks time, the Orthopedist who was treating me sent me for Therapy (for my hand, not my mind). Turns out, the Hand Therapist is a neighbor and friend who lives directly behind my parent's house and his parents live directly across the street from us.
Anyway, after weeks of therapy, David told me he thought I might have arthritis in my thumb.
"He's got to be kidding," I thought to myself. "I don't struggle with arthritis. Surely, I'd have had problems before if it was arthritis."
In frustration, my Orthopedic Doc referred me to another Orthopod who's a hand specialist. My first appointment with Dr. Duncan, he took X-rays, then brought a copy into the Treatment Room to show me.
"I wanted you to see this since it's so significant," he said. "You have significant arthritis in this basal thumb joint."
He showed me the X-ray. Yep. There it was in black and white. I later found out that there was NO connective tissue left at the top of the joint and almost none at the bottom of the joint. My basal thumb joint was a ticking time bomb. Interestingly, over time, I began remembering that I HAVE had pain in this joint for years. I even discussed it with my family practice doctor once, but I always chalked the pain up to a nerve conduction study I had several years ago. A friend of mine also recalled that I've struggled with this thumb since college and even remembered the name of the Orthopedic doctor I had consulted years ago with thumb pain (I STILL don't remember that, but her memory was very clear and the doctor's name was one I used to see, so I have no doubt she's right.)
The hand specialist explained that I would eventually require surgery on my thumb to replace the joint and gave me a leaflet to read about the surgery. In the meantime, however, we could stave off the need for surgery with cortisone shots. He said that he could only give me a cortisone shot once every 3 months, so if my pain returned sooner, they'd immediately consider surgery.
When I returned home and told Don, he said, "Do the surgery now. We've paid our annual out-of-pocket maximum for the year and any other medical care is free this year."
I laughed. Yeah, right. I'm gonna schedule surgery on my hand because it's free! I don't think so.
However, five weeks later, when the cortisone shot wore off and my hand was nearly unusable again, I went back to Don and asked him if he had been serious.
"Well, that comment was pretty tongue-in-cheek, actually, but now that we've gotten the information on our insurance plan for next year, we really SHOULD think about it."
It seems our co-pays, deductibles, etc. were all increasing this year. If the cortisone shot had lasted 4 or 5 months, it would've been a non-issue, but the 5-week efficacy really did call the question.
I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Duncan and prayed for the opportunity to discuss the whole issue with him peacefully. His response: "I think it's prudent of you and your husband to think through this now. And, yes, you are an excellent candidate for this surgery. Let's get it on the calendar."
I've discovered since then that they don't tell you everything up front. One of my friends from church, who had the same surgery last summer, commented, "If they gave you the whole picture before the surgery, no one would ever have it."
Now I'm 8 weeks post op and am beginning to get mobility back. I still am wearing a splint, however, that I can only remove for my 3X daily exercises and to bathe. I'm ready to see what the doctor has to say tomorrow and am hopeful he'll begin to let me leave my splint off for longer periods of time. I really think I need to begin using it more if I'm ever going to regain all my mobility.
I never would've dreamed, when I had that appointment with Dr. Duncan to talk about surgery, that I'd still be unable to use my left hand for this long. But there's been great peace throughout the process. I cooked several meals in advance and froze them and, other than those, I've mostly cooked simple things. It's pretty amazing how many things you can make without a lot of preparation. I've also made a few mistakes, Like the Sunday after church when the kids wanted omelettes and I was trying to hold the bowl of whipped eggs over the hot pan with my left hand and spoon egg into the pan with my right. My left hand can't HOLD things yet. One of the children had to help. Omelettes seemed simple enough to me, I didn't realize I was going to get into trouble with them.
But we've functioned, and quite well, all things considered. My life has slowed down (not driving for 3 weeks post op helped) tremendously and I don't expect quite as much from myself. The children are learning to do more and help with laundry, kitchen chores, etc. Don has supported me in a way that I've never seen before, constantly noticing the difficulty I'm having accomplishing chores one-handed and pointing it out for the children. And my friends have been amazing, calling and asking if they could pick up items for me while doing their grocery shopping, volunteering to run my errands, bringing meals, providing transportation for the children to their various and many activities. It's really been a miracle to watch the way our friends and family have cared for our every need, often without us even asking. Everytime I found myself thinking, "How am I going to accomplish that?", the answer appeared on my doorstep or at the other end of a phone line. I know that, in the bigger picture, this was the Lord taking care of us, and I'm very grateful to him. But the hands and feet he used belonged to many loving, caring people who went out of their way to look after us.
So, as I've slowly recovered, I've been ever mindful of the richness of our lives. God is so good to us. His provision for us is so complete. And friends that listen for his voice and the promptings of the Holy Spirit in their spirits live out the love of Jesus in their service to us.
With joy in my heart, I look forward to my appointment tomorrow and a good report as I move towards complete recovery. These slower times in our lives can be such blessings if we take the time to look around, and that's exactly how I've seen the last 8 weeks.
Now I'm ready to move forward and return to "real" life. Thank you, Lord, for the blessing of peace and rest and now allow me to bless others with your love, to be your hands and feet to those needy children of yours, to demonstrate your constant watchfulness of your loved ones as I begin to serve others again. Amen.
It's always humbling being served, but I'm thankful that our lives allow for this, because it really does build a bond of love
Last spring, while out running errands with my Mom, a car door slammed shut on my left hand - the door hit the outside of my hand and threw the area below the thumb into the door jam. Both spots immediately began swelling. Over several weeks time, the Orthopedist who was treating me sent me for Therapy (for my hand, not my mind). Turns out, the Hand Therapist is a neighbor and friend who lives directly behind my parent's house and his parents live directly across the street from us.
Anyway, after weeks of therapy, David told me he thought I might have arthritis in my thumb.
"He's got to be kidding," I thought to myself. "I don't struggle with arthritis. Surely, I'd have had problems before if it was arthritis."
In frustration, my Orthopedic Doc referred me to another Orthopod who's a hand specialist. My first appointment with Dr. Duncan, he took X-rays, then brought a copy into the Treatment Room to show me.
"I wanted you to see this since it's so significant," he said. "You have significant arthritis in this basal thumb joint."
He showed me the X-ray. Yep. There it was in black and white. I later found out that there was NO connective tissue left at the top of the joint and almost none at the bottom of the joint. My basal thumb joint was a ticking time bomb. Interestingly, over time, I began remembering that I HAVE had pain in this joint for years. I even discussed it with my family practice doctor once, but I always chalked the pain up to a nerve conduction study I had several years ago. A friend of mine also recalled that I've struggled with this thumb since college and even remembered the name of the Orthopedic doctor I had consulted years ago with thumb pain (I STILL don't remember that, but her memory was very clear and the doctor's name was one I used to see, so I have no doubt she's right.)
The hand specialist explained that I would eventually require surgery on my thumb to replace the joint and gave me a leaflet to read about the surgery. In the meantime, however, we could stave off the need for surgery with cortisone shots. He said that he could only give me a cortisone shot once every 3 months, so if my pain returned sooner, they'd immediately consider surgery.
When I returned home and told Don, he said, "Do the surgery now. We've paid our annual out-of-pocket maximum for the year and any other medical care is free this year."
I laughed. Yeah, right. I'm gonna schedule surgery on my hand because it's free! I don't think so.
However, five weeks later, when the cortisone shot wore off and my hand was nearly unusable again, I went back to Don and asked him if he had been serious.
"Well, that comment was pretty tongue-in-cheek, actually, but now that we've gotten the information on our insurance plan for next year, we really SHOULD think about it."
It seems our co-pays, deductibles, etc. were all increasing this year. If the cortisone shot had lasted 4 or 5 months, it would've been a non-issue, but the 5-week efficacy really did call the question.
I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Duncan and prayed for the opportunity to discuss the whole issue with him peacefully. His response: "I think it's prudent of you and your husband to think through this now. And, yes, you are an excellent candidate for this surgery. Let's get it on the calendar."
I've discovered since then that they don't tell you everything up front. One of my friends from church, who had the same surgery last summer, commented, "If they gave you the whole picture before the surgery, no one would ever have it."
Now I'm 8 weeks post op and am beginning to get mobility back. I still am wearing a splint, however, that I can only remove for my 3X daily exercises and to bathe. I'm ready to see what the doctor has to say tomorrow and am hopeful he'll begin to let me leave my splint off for longer periods of time. I really think I need to begin using it more if I'm ever going to regain all my mobility.
I never would've dreamed, when I had that appointment with Dr. Duncan to talk about surgery, that I'd still be unable to use my left hand for this long. But there's been great peace throughout the process. I cooked several meals in advance and froze them and, other than those, I've mostly cooked simple things. It's pretty amazing how many things you can make without a lot of preparation. I've also made a few mistakes, Like the Sunday after church when the kids wanted omelettes and I was trying to hold the bowl of whipped eggs over the hot pan with my left hand and spoon egg into the pan with my right. My left hand can't HOLD things yet. One of the children had to help. Omelettes seemed simple enough to me, I didn't realize I was going to get into trouble with them.
But we've functioned, and quite well, all things considered. My life has slowed down (not driving for 3 weeks post op helped) tremendously and I don't expect quite as much from myself. The children are learning to do more and help with laundry, kitchen chores, etc. Don has supported me in a way that I've never seen before, constantly noticing the difficulty I'm having accomplishing chores one-handed and pointing it out for the children. And my friends have been amazing, calling and asking if they could pick up items for me while doing their grocery shopping, volunteering to run my errands, bringing meals, providing transportation for the children to their various and many activities. It's really been a miracle to watch the way our friends and family have cared for our every need, often without us even asking. Everytime I found myself thinking, "How am I going to accomplish that?", the answer appeared on my doorstep or at the other end of a phone line. I know that, in the bigger picture, this was the Lord taking care of us, and I'm very grateful to him. But the hands and feet he used belonged to many loving, caring people who went out of their way to look after us.
So, as I've slowly recovered, I've been ever mindful of the richness of our lives. God is so good to us. His provision for us is so complete. And friends that listen for his voice and the promptings of the Holy Spirit in their spirits live out the love of Jesus in their service to us.
With joy in my heart, I look forward to my appointment tomorrow and a good report as I move towards complete recovery. These slower times in our lives can be such blessings if we take the time to look around, and that's exactly how I've seen the last 8 weeks.
Now I'm ready to move forward and return to "real" life. Thank you, Lord, for the blessing of peace and rest and now allow me to bless others with your love, to be your hands and feet to those needy children of yours, to demonstrate your constant watchfulness of your loved ones as I begin to serve others again. Amen.
It's always humbling being served, but I'm thankful that our lives allow for this, because it really does build a bond of love
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