Correction

Apparently my benign little blog, designed to only demonstrate that life after limb loss can be wonderful and fulfilling, has been causing a stir. I need to take this opportunity to clarify, and to hopefully heal some hurt feelings.

Writing a blog is an egocentric endeavor. I primarily write about my experiences, and interactions with those around me. If somebody is omitted from a story it is not meant as a slight. In order to write a blog everyday, sometimes I need to abbreviate the stories so that I can fit them into a readable format.

Also, blogs are not always published in a chronological order. Sometimes, such as when either I or one of my kids are sick, I will publish a pre-written but previously unpublished post. These posts tend to chronicle previous experiences but address real emotions.

Keeping a few stories and experiences "in the can" has helped me manage the pressures of work, my family and my blog. Some days my life is simply too hectic, or exhausting, for me to sit down and write. This is especially true when one of my kids are sick, when I am traveling, or when I am juggling many projects against a deadline.  Because of the pressures of trying to publish a daily blog, I have found that keeping some drafts on hand has reduced the stress involved.

 I try to be specific about the people I include in my post. When nobody specific is named, I caution against making assumptions about people, places or situations. Typically posts that do not include specific identifiers is an indication that the story was published from my prepared archives.

Any implications that may have been assumed because of the timing of one of my posts published from "the can" are regrettable. My son did not have a reaction to cinnamon in Ohio, it occurred at a different time. In an exhausted state I attempted to piece together a series of previous experiences while weaving current information. I apologize for the confusion, and for the perceived accusations.

Breathing Treatments

This has been the first morning that I have felt a sense of optimism that Timmy is turning the corner fighting his little cold. He has been coughing and dealing with a green runny nose for weeks and, despite our best efforts, nothing was helping. Coughing during the day is one thing, but his constant hacking all night was beginning to border on torturous for all involved.

Yesterday he went to the doctor who prescribed a series of breathing treatments. Initially I was upset that the treatments were warranted, but I also knew that in the realm of things that could be "wrong" with my child, this was minor.  I quickly realized that his little body needed help, and and was hopeful that these breathing treatments would work. 

Holding the little mask up to his mouth last night saddened me, but Timmy was a trooper. His fears were quickly redirected by his big brother sitting next to him, reading him a book.  Thankfully the treatment was not nearly as traumatic as we had feared.

Yielding results that were almost magical, Timmy slept through the night without coughing! He woke up this morning happy and energetic. I feel a sense of relief that we have finally found something to help my little Hamlet.

Videos!

I am excited to share two separate videos in today's blog.  The videos are markedly different, yet both reflect my passions.

The first video is the speech I recently presented during the Congressional hearing a few weeks ago. I knew that cameras were present, but I didn't realize that my words would be saved and uploaded for public viewing. (Please keep in mind that this was the first time I presented to Congress, and I was both nervous and unsure about what was expected.)




The second video shows Timmy's first step!  He has been teetering on accomplishing this milestone for a few days, becoming braver and standing without support for longer periods of time. It turns out that all he needed was the encouragement of his big brother and motivation to try to get to the cat.

Embracing the Number

To put it mildly, yesterday morning was hectic.  I woke up early with Timmy, and almost as soon as I turned on my computer I began to feel overwhelmed. Instead of my inbox overflowing with birthday greetings, I was met with frantic emails explaining a diverse array of crisis that required my attention.  Even before I slurped down my first cup of coffee, I was feeling stressed.

After plugging away at the issues throughout the morning, I finally began to feel settled.  While everything was certainly not fixed, I felt that the situations were on track and out of meltdown mode. Resolved to make to the best of the remainder of my birthday, I decided on a whim to surprise Robby's classmates with ice cream during their recess.

Let me tell you, walking onto the playground with ice cream on a hot day instantly elevates you to hero status. I was met with squeals, cheers and smiles, all of which immediately boosted my mood. Hearing all of his friends enthusiastically sing Happy Birthday to me was one of the highlights of my day. 

As all of the friends were happily munching on their ice cream, one little girl asked me how old I was today.  Deciding to own my age, I proudly proclaimed that I was 41 years old.  I wish I had a camera to record how her face instantly morphed from excitement to shock.  ""Wow. That's close to being dead. Why are you smiling?"

Without missing a beat, another little cherub decided to chime into the discussion.  "Wow. You're as old as my Granny. She's really old too."
Before I could change the topic, another friend graciously offered, "My Dad can give you botox if you want. He does that a lot with old people."

I instantly regretted my decision to be truthful about my age. So much for celebrating and embracing the number!

Happy Birthday to Me

Today is my birthday. For the past 40 years I've eagerly anticipated the day of celebrating and doting. This year is different because for some reason I just don't care. The day doesn't feel special; and celebrating feels more like an inconvenience than a joy. 

I'm not upset about turning 41. I think I'm at the point in my life where I no longer care about the number. Aside from doctors, who are quick to point out middle age whenever possible, nobody has cared about my age since I turned 21. This year, my birthday just doesn't feel important.

Scott has never cared about his birthday, and I am beginning to understand his reasoning. He has always contended that the date made no true difference in his life, so he refuses to become fixated on a number. Not caring used to feel like such a foreign concept.  Surprising even myself, I am now echoing his sentiments. 

Having the Birthday Blahs doesn't mean that I am going to forgo celebrating altogether.  I'm looking forward to not having to cook dinner and to copious amounts of cupcakes for dessert.  After all, I may no longer require constant doting and celebrating, but a few perks are always welcome. 

Farm Fun

Friday I resurrected what has been dubbed "Adventure Friday" by taking Robby and his friend to the farm for the afternoon.  In addition to being a working farm, the facility boasts numerous playgrounds, fishing ponds, climbing and jumping structures as well as variety of different size slides.  Robby and I have enjoyed our visits to the farm so much that this year we decided to become full-fledged members by purchasing a CSA membership.  In addition to getting a box full of freshly picked produce every week, we will be able to play and fish to our hearts content all summer long. 

My arms and stroller were overflowing with picnic lunches, fishing poles, tackle boxes, a packed diaper bag, extra bottles of water and Timmy, as I slowly made my way to the fishing pond.  (The friends took off at a full sprint as soon as we cleared the admission gate.)  Thankfully, I'm in a comfortable socket so, although I was a bit tentative about traversing the terrain with my vision obstructed by stuff, I was able to make my way safely.  Timmy seemed to thoroughly enjoy the four-wheeling experiencing of his stroller being pushed through a rutty field.

I did find it ironic that the two boys, who didn't really want anything to do with me when we arrived, suddenly became inviting and engaging when they needed me to bait their hooks. I also had to chuckle when the little men came scampering back to me to get help taking the fish off the line.

It turns out that having a prosthetic foot is a real benefit when fishing. I could gently step on the flipping fish without having to feel a thing.  Of course, unfortunate for the first few fish, it did take me awhile to figure out the correct amount of pressure I needed to apply to secure but not squish.  In my defense, I don't think I harmed any fish, but I certainly angered a few. I think I need to add a pair of fish gloves to the tackle box. 

Everybody (with the exception of a few fish) had a great time at the farm.  I suspect that the highlight was Robby catching a snapping turtle with his fishing pole. He was delighted to have caught a koopa and understanding when I simply cut the line and sacrificed his hook and bobber.  I was not willing to risk my fingers!
This was a wonderful start to Adventure Friday 2015.