Shortly after I was married my husband had back surgery.  I remember thinking, as they wheeled him towards the operating room, that if something happened to him I had to make the decisions regarding his care.  And that freaked me out big time.  I didn’t think I should be responsible for making decisions about his life even though he was my husband and technically it was part of the job description of wife.  It just seemed like he was a grown man and should be in charge of his own care…and in the event he couldn’t make his own decisions I thought hey, maybe his Dad would want to make these decisions.  Thankfully nothing bad happened and I didn’t have to make any decisions but the reality and gravity of that situation was overwhelming.

Now I find myself in a similar situation knowing that my daughter has to have a procedure to repair a malfunctioning part of her body.  But when the doctor started reading through the list of possible complications and their outcomes I wanted to walk out of the room and throw up.  I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to her…even thought I know logically that if this issue isn’t corrected much worse things lie in wait for her so not acting is not an option.  The odds are in her favor and I love her urologist – he is very cautious and not anxious to cut her open.  So have to put my faith in him and what is best for her and hope to hell all runs smoothly.  It won’t happen until after the school year is finished so we have some time to prepare.  But we also have time to wait.  And think.  And worry.

-snacks: of both the salty and sweet variety

-wipes: will I never be without these?

-poop bags: even though Henry does not wear diapers, there is an endless use of the diaper disposal bags and I find I cannot leave them behind (no pun intended)

-crayons and paper: always a good go-to items when kids are starting to melt down

-aspirin/advil: because I always seem to be just a moment away from a headache

-water: because someone is always, always, always thirsty

-kleenex: because snot never, ever seems to go away

-hand sanitizer: because germs are always lurking

-miscellaneous garbage: from candy wrappers, used kleenex, sticker backings, straw wrappings…pretty much you name it.  Trash winds up in your purse and you have no idea how and/or why

-miscellaneous “friends”: my kids always seem to be in need of having a “friend” to travel with them.  It could be as small as a plastic dinosaur and as large as a beanie baby but I always seem to have a traveling companion.

-hand sanitizer:  something that I always want to have on hand too…because dang, shopping carts are nasty.

About a year ago Sophie was diagnosed with reflux in one of her ureters which is the tube that leads from her kidney to her bladder.   Basically it is only supposed to drain out but the valve that regulates urine movement is faulty resulting in urine being able to travel back up into the kidney.  This has resulted in a series of kidney infections resulting in some minor permanent damage to her kidney.  We put her on daily antibiotics for the past year hoping to keep any new infections from happening.  There was a small chance that the reflux would resolve on its own. 

We were at Children’s Memorial Hospital this morning to check the reflux in her ureter.  To do so, a catheter is inserted into her urethra up into her bladder and a contrast dye is presented into the bladder.  If the reflux is present, you can see the dye travel from the bladder up into her kidney.  Which we saw today.  So the reflux has not resolved on its own.  Most likely she will need surgical intervention.

The worst part about today is that it took 6 attempts and three different individuals to get the catheter inserted.  Two of the six attempts actually got the catheter in but it was not in the right position.  Meanwhile my daughter is beside herself.  Screaming when they are attempting to get the catheter in place and my husband and I are holding her hands, trying to ease the pain and terror she is feeling.  There is nothing.  NOTHING.  like staring into the eyes of your child while they are being poked and prodded and helpless and screaming in pain and fear.  You are so completely helpless and trying to explain how important this test is to see if her kidney is better or still sick.  The worst part was knowing that multiple attempts were necessary and to watch her fear build as she realized it was going to happen again and again…..

When a pediatric urology resident finally came in and got the catheter placed properly I broke down.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I had told them that he could try once and if it didn’t get in then we were done.  I wasn’t going to put her through anymore and we would regroup with her urologist to determine how to get the test done without so much pain and anxiety for all of us…but mostly Sophie.  She was so strong and amazing and once it was in place she was able to breathe a sigh of relief and assured us, “I know it doesn’t hurt when they take it out.”

So now it is 3:24 pm and I’m having a beer to destress….and if I could legally offer one to Sophie I would.

When it came time during high school to pick a college and figure out what you wanted to be when you grew up, nothing ever came to my mind.  There was nothing I could imagine doing for the rest of my adult life – except be a mom.  So when I got married and we decided it was time to have kids who would have thought that road would have been as hard as it was.  But we got there.   And I decided to stay home to be a housewife.   Really, I did.  And at first it was great.  But slowly, over time, the illusion of housewife bliss faded and the reality of my new life set in.  No pay.  Long hours.  No respect.   Assumption of additional duties with again, no additional pay.  It’s a life sentence this housewife thing and I’m convinced that Carol and Alice were sipping on the cooking sherry to make it through the days more times than not.

This year I have a different perspective on the issue as a friend of mine has been diagnosed with breast cancer.  She is the first person I know to have cancer.  She is a few years younger than my 42 years and has two small children.  She is a smart, funny, strong woman with an excellent support network around her to help fight this battle.  And so this year I will don my pink armor for her and step up to the front lines and stand to fight with her, as best I can, and I will pink this year.  I will pink smartly and often and I urge you to do the same.

I recently took a personality test and yes, despite some dispute I was found to have an actual personality.  Seriously though, I think I’ve learned the source of my angst.  I am a romantic.  Life is nothing without sensitive personal ties, shared experiences and intimate attachments.   I am concerned not so much with practical realities as with meaningful possibilities, with romantic ideals.  It is why when my life is drowning in reality I escape to fantasy.  Of a time in my life when things were so much less complicated.  And memories are clouded with the haze of time, all the rough edges filed away.  I long for these easy days.  For the uncomplicated haze of memory.

So for my birthday this year I am going to give myself permission to linger a bit longer in the hazy days of the past as I try to pull myself out of the fog and into the clearer skies of days to come.

Mom:  Sophie, do you want to wear a dress today?

Sophie:  Yeah!!

Henry:   Do you have a dress for me to wear today?

Mom:  No Bud, boys don’t really wear dresses.

Henry:  But they wear shoes!

Yes they do.  What a smart boy.