LoveBarbara

2008-03-17T07:19:00.000-07:00

I have just recently been to the doctor, and he found several abnormal types of breast tissue. I have a mammogram in April, I am still waiting to receive news about an ultrasound to confirm or rule out the possibility of breast cancer. I am completely devastated. Most of us are aware of the statistics where Breast Cancer is concerned. Frightening. I am currently in disbelief that this could be happening to me. I mean really,Why me??

Every day is an emotional struggle to find hope and security for the future. It is so interesting that I can let each day pass and not think about how or when we may not have the privilege to live a normal, productive life. However, when I discover the possibility of those horrific details prematurely, I believe that I have two choices.

A: I can run, hide in bed all day, not answer the phone, not tell anyone and struggle alone and not live the life you have left to the fullest.

B: I can truly live, maybe for the first time that I have in my whole life!! I could really put some thought into the life that I have been living thus far and the life that I have always wanted to live, for the cherished time that there is left.

Right now I am trying to take extra time admiring the beauty and innocence of my children, their thoughts, their little phrases.

One cute saying that I have always remembered was from my daughter, about a year ago.

She came home from school, and she sniffed loudly with a big smile on her face and said "what are we having for dinner? I can smell the 'sweetness' of pizza!!" I could only smile at that thought, I mean only a child trying to be understood could come up with that. My heart was glad.

I am trying, when I am not in too much physical pain, to play with the kids, with my husband, laugh, create new memories and remember to cherish old ones. When I can do this it is hard to think about what road I may have to trudge ahead of me. I want to live life now, while I can, I can feel sorry for myself when/if I am too sick to to anything else.

For now, I choose life. I choose love, and I am not going to retreat into doubt and despair.

Cancer is such a devastating disease, but I know that with enough awareness, enough hope, enough power-of-mind, that we can all win this battle. Not only for those who are afflicted with it, but also for those who are watching this happen to someone they care about.

Please join this cause, and help us all find a cure. One in eight women. 1 in 8!!!! Women will suffer with this particular disease in their lifetime. I believe that with perseverance, and the belief that we can all overcome this disease, we can all make a significant difference for the next generation, and the generations that will follow.

As for me, at this moment, I choose life. Wouldn't you?

2008-03-17T07:18:00.002-07:00

2008-03-17T07:18:00.001-07:00

2007-11-28T10:43:00.000-08:00

Hi, my name is Barbara ~ and I am a mother of 3.

Welcome Baby William. He was born April 2nd, a hefty 7 lbs, 10oz. The heaviest of all three and the easiest delivery by far!
William is now nearly 8 months old, and the picture of perfect health.
Rachael and Robbie adore their little brother. They play gently with him everyday and delight in teaching him new things. Peek-a-boo seems to be the game of choice this week. Hearing their laughter and seeing the joy on their faces is priceless. Especially on Rachael's face.
During her prayers at bedtime just before William was born, Rachael prayed for her new baby brother to be healthy, not to be sick like Robbie was. She cried, I cried. I cried for Rachael, ("the family sweetheart" according to a family member) who at such a young age had experienced, watched and heard about death, major illness and the life and death struggle and ongoing treatment, including reconstructive surgery for her little brother, Robbie, a near death experience of her father and a bed-ridden Mother from illness. When Robbie was later diagnosed with severe asthma, she reluctantly gave away her two cats, Tisha and Poly. Her little heart was obviously so afraid that this new baby would bring another major disruption of her life. I wept as I held her in my arms and tried to let her understand that this baby is healthy and we are so thankful for him, even though at the time I was on bedrest for hypertension and the ultrasounds that I had done indicated that we were going to have another underweight baby, or IUGR, as the term goes.
Time slowly passed while on bed rest, but the glorious day finally arrived on April 2nd, 2007. One week overdue, William David Harris entered the world. Crying and moving and healthy!
What a miracle! Life since that moment has not been the same. The love that I feel for my three beautiful children is like no other love I have ever felt. I have been given these gifts, what a blessing!
Time is short these days! I will update again soon, belive me, I haven't even gotten to the car accident yet!

Love,
Barbara

2007-03-04T10:43:00.000-08:00

I am tired of relaxing.

How many times have I wished that someone would honestly tell me to be a lady of luxury.

I have longed for someone to tell me to 'put my feet up' and 'take it easy'.

I have dreamed of eating whatever I want whenever I wanted it and not having to lift a finger around the house.

All I have to say about that is be careful what you wish for!

I am 36 and 1/2 weeks pregnant with our 3rd baby and have been placed on bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy due to hypertension.

In the beginning of bedrest it was nice. It was a welcome change. That lasted for about a day. It is like being told that you have to have a good time.

It seems a bit cruel to tell a very pregnant woman to stay put when the strong urge to clean everything is upon her.

Being somewhat of a control freak and a little demanding (so I am told) it is really difficult to let someone else take care of the kids.

Especially when it is usually done in front of me.

Lately, I have developed an extrodinary talent of correcting anyone on dicipline techniques, cleaning, decorating and cooking.

It just seems to roll right out of my mouth before I have a chance to even think about what it is I am saying or why it bugs me now when it didn't before. In fact my mother who hardly ever swears, told me to stop bitching, and that people have to live with me!

Understandably too!

Even I am getting annoyed with myself.

It was only a month and a half ago that I was going out to playgroup with the kids 3 times a week, a pregnany class (with my 2 year old who cannot sit still) once a week and going out to socialize as much as I felt able to. I remember how tiring that was, but how good it felt to be out in the community and developing healthy relationships with other Moms.

Isolation and hermit-like behavour comes naturally to me under times of stress but I don't like what it does to my attitude.

From what I gather, anyone trying to help is a little tired of it too.

What I miss most

(and this is a real shocker!)

is going to church...

We have some new officers at the Army and their message is clear.

The way that I feel when I leave on Sundays is that I am not a bad person because I make mistakes.

We all make them, and eventhough I don't deserve it, God loves me and forgives me like only God can.

He isn't spiteful and angry that I made the same mistakes again and again. He isn't impatient with me.

He just loves me.

A love that is so strong that I can feel it when I am praying.

What a nice reminder that is.

I NEVER imagined that going to church would be important me.

It just kind of snuck-up on me and took hold.

I am grateful today for all of my blessings,

whether I understand them or not.

Love,

Barbara

2006-03-16T11:09:00.000-08:00

I want the hand of AA always to be there and for that I am
responsible.
Alcoholism is such a devastating disease. It rips away any self worth, belonging, peace of mind, family, friends, ambition and hope. These are only a few of the many things that are usually taken, along with any shred of sanity left behind. There is no cure for alcoholism. But this does not mean that all is lost, there is still hope for those who want it badly enough. Hope for a future, for family, friends and all that was shoved away by this disease. In the end you may not get what you thought you wanted back, but you will definitely get what you need.
As I grow in sobriety, I see that when I first came through the doors of AA, I wanted my life back, just without all of the hangovers. What I have now is far superior that what I could have ever imagined. The reason for this is that I was willing (not always able) to try to change my life to a new and often times frightening new life. A life similar to those who do not suffer from a disease that stops you in your tracks. A life with "life skills", education, opportunities and many chances. I have been fortunate to have a family who has supported me(for the most part), to have a forgiving and loving husband, compassionate parents and chance after chance to try to get "on my feet again." Somehow, I always did. The hand of AA was always there when I reached for it. A friend would show up or phone in a moment of personal desperation, God would show up and pick me up again or slow me down again when I was going too fast. Someone was always there to help, even when I didn't think I needed help (or wanted it).
In the past week when someone in the program passed away due in part to the disease I have been asking myself, why me? Why me and not others who suffer? Is it all luck? Opportunity? Willpower? Inner strength? A stronger "higher power"? Greater faith?
All I can do today is be thankful that I have made it this far, that I haven't had to pick up a drink, and be grateful for yet another day of sobriety, again.
Love, Barbara

2006-03-02T10:40:00.000-08:00

Middle aged at 25? Well, it is beginning to seem so. While learning to live in the real world, going to college, being in debt, having children and being married, I am beginning to feel like I am in my mid forties, but now we have just purchased a minivan!!!
A family automobile.
Good bye to my youth! Good bye to my dreams of owning a sports car, and having my hair fly in the breeze on a sunny afternoon with the top down. Good bye to wild parties, where the only worries I had were how I was going to explain "this one" to my parents. Goodbye to only caring about which purse I should wear with my heels. Now that I wear orthotics, I can't even wear heels anymore. Running shoes just seem to make good common sense anyway. (hahaha) Goodbye to spontaneity! Good bye to quick decision making for ventures to the city or to a night out on the town. Good bye to expensive car stereo equipment (that has no doubt made me lose some hearing over the years).
Good bye and good riddance! If that is all I have to lose for all that I have now, then that is just fine with me. Nothing is more precious to me than the people I love and the memories I have. And besides, it's probably about time I started to grow up... At least a little. The best things in life aren't purchased with money, they are things that are felt in the heart.
Love, Barbara

2006-02-13T06:01:00.000-08:00

Well, what can I say? Good things come to those who wait!
Things are coming together so well, I find myself having to "give my head a shake" in disbelief!
Robbie is healing well, and as always (except for when he's a little sleepy) in great spirits. He's not walking quite yet, but when he had a recent visit with the physiotherapist she was very pleased at how well he was doing. His asthma is completely controlled, and he will in all likelihood grow out of it before he is 5.
Rachael is soing very well at school and has decided to marry another boy in her class:)
She is starting to really worry about what she is seen wearing in public and by her friends. So now she picks out her clothes. Usually she will do a great job!
I finished my college course, and immediately got a job in my field at the place I wanted to work! Also, I've just joined Discovery Toys as a "Educational Consultant." Things are great.
Looking back I realize that even though things are really tough at the moment, those tough times pass- but so do the good times! So I want to enjoy this time while it lasts knowing that I can only live in today, because today is all we have!

Well I am working today, so I otta fly!
Love,Barbara

2006-02-01T08:29:00.000-08:00

Okay, I was tagged. I don't have much time so I'll get right to the point............
4 Jobs I've had

Personal Support Worker
Fitness Instructor
Archive Clerk
Wood Worker

4 Movies I could watch over and over

Diary of a mad black woman
Braveheart
Cold Mountain
Ocean's Eleven&Ocean's Twelve

4 Places I've Lived

Kingston, Ontario
Orillia, Ontario
Winnipeg, Manitoba
Bracebridge, Ontario

(in no particular order)

4 T.V. Shows I Love

C.S.I.
C.S.I. Miami
C.S.I. N.Y.
Medium

4 Places I've Vacationed

Maui, Hawaii
Myrtle Beach
Yarmouth, N.S.
Vancouver, B.C.

4 Of My Favorite Dishes

Lemon Chicken
Lasagna
Potato Skins (fully loaded)
French Toast

4 Websites I Visit Daily

Horoscopes
Dawsonwood.blogspot.com
CBC news
Health and Beauty

4 Places I'd Rather Be Right Now

Nova Scotia
England
On a nice beach anywhere it's warm and sunny
Beauty Salon having a massage and getting my hair and nails done

2006-01-16T06:13:00.000-08:00

It's so hard to believe that it has almost been a week since the operation~ It will be one week tomorrow. Tomorrow (as a matter of fact) also happens to be baby Robbie's first birthday! We don't have much planned for now. I think we'll have a party once he's feeling a little better. He is doing so well!! I can't believe how much better he is looking, and with the medication he is on, he can crawl, bounce and climb so fast I can hardly keep up! What a relief that everything is running smoothly. I dreaded the operation from the moment I knew that he was going to have it. Now after all is said and done, there was nothing to fear but fear itself. I am very proud of the way Dylan and I have discovered a routine for the amount of post-op. care Robbie required. All is well, and I thank God for every moment, even the most fearful ones.
Love, Barbara

2006-01-13T07:30:00.000-08:00

Thank you for all of your prayers!
I don't have much time, but I wanted everyone to know that the surgery was successful. It was a "day surgery", so they let us leave the hospital almost as soon as Robbie woke up from the anesthetic. It has been an overwhelming week for all involved and we are all very tired. Robbie is on a myriad of medication for pain, bladder spasms, and antibiotics for preemptive measures. He requires 3-5 baths daily, but seems to be in great spirits! He really is a strong and resilient boy! We all love him so much and pray that the healing process will go smoothly. When I have a few more moments, I will write more. Again thank you all for your prayers!
Love, Barbara

2006-01-04T19:26:00.000-08:00

Dear God;

Please hear my plea. I am so frightened about Robbie's surgery on Tuesday. I feel so alone. Lord, I ask that you please stay close to him, help him, comfort him if he feels any fear or pain. Please hold him tightly and keep him safe. God I ask that by your will, he will have a quick recovery. Please God, help me to have the courage, strength and ability to be attentive, comforting and unafraid of how to help Robbie through this fearful and turbulent time. I ask this in your name, Lord. Amen.

2005-12-23T11:02:00.000-08:00

"Worry Never Robs Tomorrow of Its Sorrow; It Only Saps Today Of Its Strength."

I am an expert worrier. No topic is so small that I can't blow it up into something big. The merest hint of an ill wind can trip the hair-trigger mechanism that gets me going. I believe it has taken years to develop such a reflex. Originally, I worried that what or who I loved would be taken away from me or never be given to me in the first place.
But, worry can become a way of life- it sometimes seems like I don't know how to live any other way. In the grips of this delusion, I usually assume that if I DON'T worry about something, it will happen for sure. As if worry had the power to ward off tragedy!
As opposed to cautious realism, chronic worry is indiscriminate and irrational. I don't worry about disasters because they're so likely to happen, I worry because that's what I know how to do. Worry doesn't prevent the loss of anything except my own peace of mind.
I recognize that habitual worry is a learned response from long ago. Today I choose serenity.

2005-12-09T20:02:00.000-08:00

Only God has the power to show you who is God.

I am beginning to really understand what is important in my life these days. What a revelation to know who I am, who I love, to learn at the age of 25 what I enjoy doing, even now to have honest opinions, to have good friends, sober friends, people who love me, and loved me even when I couldn't love myself. As I continue in sobriety, life becomes even more precious, time with my family is more valuable. When I feel like I need more from life, I ask myself 'am I really living or am I just existing?' Today I want to live! Today, I can live without the temptation to have a drink. What a miracle that is. Something I never thought possible has happened. I am enjoying life sober! All at once, everyone in my family is healthy! I have completed the 2nd last portion of College, and I am going to my daughters' first Public School Christmas concert on Wednesday!

Life is too short to worry about petty things that won't matter tomorrow. I know now, that when ever I felt that I lost God, it was not God who was lost. It was me. Today I feel stronger than I have ever felt! Not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally too. When I wake up in the morning, I pray for courage, strength and guidance to do whatever is needed for the day. When I put my expectations on myself to do too much, or expectations on others to read my mind, or do as I say, things go down hill, of course! One of the marvelous things I am learning is that you can just start over. It doesn't matter how many times I have to start my day over, I just move past it. One day at a time, or moment at a time. God loves me and wants the best for me. He has put loving, healing people in my path, has kept me safe, and has performed more miracles in my life than I can imagine. I know God wants only the best for me. So the question I now ask myself is, "why would I want any less for myself?"

2005-11-20T19:03:00.000-08:00

"Fear knocked at the door, Faith answered and nobody was there."

This is a quote often said at my meetings. I am not sure where it originated from, but it is a quote that has worked for me these past few months while I haven't been well enough to go to them. When I first heard this said I thought it sounded crazy, I didn't get it. I get it now though. When I am fearful, I am pushing faith out of my sight and out of my thoughts. For me, fear comes in many forms. Fear of more illness, not only of myself but for the people I love. Fear of abandonment, financial insecurity, not knowing what lies ahead in tomorrow, fear of yesterdays' skeletons falling out of the closet and so on.

When I focus on fear, it rules my life. It tears away ambition, kind actions or thoughts. It creates resentments, jealousy and anger. I begin to doubt my life, my friends and my family's intentions. It can change how I feel and react about most things, which under normal circumstances would not bother me. It throws me in a deep, dark well with no way out. The incessant droning of negative thoughts drives me mad. Then it comes. Like a gentle wave, or a soft breeze. Renewal of faith. A phone call from a friend in the program, a kind word, good news from the doctor, relief of symptoms left over from an illness, ability to hold my children, laugh, cry, accept and feel at peace with what is going on around me. Faith answered when fear was pounding down my door. This is my life lesson. Everyday I need to remind myself that God has laid down his plan for me that day. All that is required of me, is to ask God for acceptance, courage, wisdom and especially the strength to carry it out. Today, I have a choice. It can be a good day, or a bad day. I can choose to look at my yesterday's as failures, or lessons. Tomorrow is too uncertain for specific plans, but for today I know God will give me the strength to endure as long as I am willing to ask for help. This is a piece of prose read at most of my meetings, it helps me when I feel overwhelmed. I wanted to share this with anyone who is interested. It has helped me many times to stay in the now, in today. As Ray Charles delicately phrased it "Live everyday like it's your last, because one day you'll be right."

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

author unknown

"There are two days in every week about which we should not worry,

two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of those days is Yesterday, with it's mistakes and cares it's faults and blunders, it's aches and pains.

Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.

We cannot erase a single word we said we cannot undo a single act we performed.

Yesterday is gone.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow, with it's possible adversities, it's burdens, large promise and poor performance.

Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds but it will rise.

Until it does, we have no stake in tomorrow for it is yet unborn.

This leaves only one day, Today.

Anyone can fight the battles of just one day.

It's only when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities,

Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.

It's not the experience of today that drives us mad.

It is remorse or bitterness for something which happened yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring

Let us therefore live but one day at a time."

2005-11-14T17:07:00.000-08:00

I've heard it said that a picture is worth a thousand words, so here's four. Hopefully they can make up for the month and a half I've been ill, and mostly unable to write. The top left picture is of my family. In the middle, our children Rachael and Robbie, and on the right well, life is a party, live it up!

The picture here on the left is of Rachael in one of four of her halloween costumes, here she is most decidedly Princess Ariel "as a human!"

2005-11-11T05:48:00.000-08:00

On Remembrance Day..............
How can I honour those to died for my freedom? How can I remember? I have not lived in times of war, nor have I seen the devastating effects of it. I haven't lived through the hardship of losing or leaving loved ones behind because of war. In school I didn't really understand the magnitude or depth of sacrifice these men and women made. How could I?
I was lucky to feel well enough to take my children to the remembrance Day Service, accompanied by my Dad. As my daughter sang the national anthem with everyone, she would point out and tell people where the Canadian and the Ontario flags were. She proudly announced to many people in the large crowd that she lives in Canada.
We watched as the ambulatory elderly Vets proudly walked by in a parade of sorts, listened to bagpipes, drums and watched as a WW2 plane flew overhead at 11 am. It was a sunny, beautiful and cold day. A great day for it's cause. Many peope were gathered in Memorial Park.
As we sang O Canada, I tried my hardest to think of what it must have been like for mothers, wives, daughters, fathers, husbands and sons to watch their loved ones leave and not know if they were going to come back. I can only imagine. Then I wept, gently. I began thinking about how much I take my freedom for granted.
I am completing my placement for college at a retirement home. Through this placement, I know some of the aged men and women who served this country. Some are now confined to wheelchairs, who are misunderstood and neglected. Some of the few who have been forgotten, sometimes by their own families, but also by my generation, and the one that follows. By their country. Except for one day of the year. Is this fair? It has really made me think. What can I do? How can I remember? How can I honor the people who fought for this country's freedom? For my freedom? My families' freedom? One thing I intend to do is learn more about the WW1 and WW2, and teach my own children to be respectful, proud and grateful for all of the things we often take for granted. As much as I'd like to, I cannot change the world. I know, however, that I can change my little part of it. I was telling my 4 year old daughter Rachael that to live in Canada makes her one of the luckiest people in the world. At that time I realized how much I can (and do) learn from trying to teach my children right and moral things. Today I am grateful for freedom of choice, freedom to vote, freedom to have an education.

I am proud to be Canadian.

2005-11-02T10:41:00.000-08:00

Part Four...........

Before I begin, I would like to thank all of you for keeping us in your thoughts and prayers. It has been a tremendously difficult strain on this family for the past few weeks. Although I am now Mono-free, the after effects are still quite debilitating.

Anyway, within minutes of us getting home from the hospital, we left the children in the care of my parents, Connie and Rob. Off we went to make our new home asthma proof. Looking back, I realize that only God lead us through this blinding task. My parents lovingly opened their doors to us and looked after the kids everyday while Dylan, his brother, my extended family, my sponsor, and a good friend of mine helped us surmount the seemingly insurmountable.

I think it took about a month or so, before we were able to move home. It happened so fast, and was so stressful, I don't remember most of it really. I do remember, midway into it I was still working part time at a nursing home. I was working the night shift, and just before we were to leave, a bomb threat was called in. We were instructed by our superiors to 'search for anything suspicious' and 'in every room and hallway'. As it turns out, and obviously, it was nothing more than a threat. However, in the midst of everything going on with Robbie and the renovations, I had tried to stay strong, not feel the emotions or feel them at a more appropriate time, maybe when I had more time, once things got done...........

but once I thought my life was in danger, and that I may never see my family again, I broke down.

Completely.

Broken.

Defeated by life.

Beaten down.

Once I got home I collapsed into an almost violent tremble, I couldn't speak, I could hardly hear, tears were almost projectile. My mom made me some tea, and Dylan held me close. My daughter Rachael wanted to know what was happening. The last thing that I wanted was for her to see me in such a state. It was like all of the hurt and pain reared its head at once and I couldn't stand the pain anymore.

It soon passed, and I fell ito a deep sleep.

When I awoke, it was like it never happened. I quickly gathered what I needed for the day, and went ot my house to get more done.

After we moved back home, things were slowly coming together. I was and continue to learn about asthma. I of course had some sleepless nights in the Emergency room because I thought Robbie was having another attack. Only once since then has robbie been really sick and needed prednisone, and that was about a month or two ago. We have since been to the Asthma clinic and Robbie has changed one of his puffers, and is also on an oral medication. Also in the past two or three months (it gets hard to remember) I went to the doctor about Robbie's little neck. I had noticed he did not turn to the left, and because of that the moulding of his head was severely warped. He was immediately seen by a physiotherapist. He was diagnosed with "Congenital Muscular Torticollis", or CMT. What had happened we think, is that he had injured or had torn a neck muscle either in utero or during birth. It is fairly common happening in roughly 1 in 1000 children. Why it wasn't diagnosed before? I don't know. At 7 months, his head was severely warped and because around one year the plates are fused together, there was a possibility of crano-facial surgery.

We caught it just in time. We do stretches of his neck at least three times daily and he is still seeing the physiotherapist. His head is shaping normaly, there is no brain damage, and he is doing things babies his age are supposed to. He actually had an appointment today with the physiotherapist, but I am still so weak, I was unable to take him. My mother (bless her heart) took him for me. He is recovering!!

He is beautiful, and a lovely baby.

I apologize if this seems a little jumbled. As theraputic as this is, I find it a little difficult to remember things in chronological order. I think when I am a little better I'll re-write, or at least proof read....

Thank you all for your continued prayers for my family.

Love, Barbara

2005-10-18T06:19:00.000-07:00

This is a recent picture of my wonderful husband Dylan and myself, taken a few days ago.
These days, however, I don't look quite so chipper, after contracting Mono. This illness has me flat out. Completely depleated of energy. I can remember praying one afternoon, after Robbie and Dylan both were taking prednisone(Robbie for inflammation in his lungs, Dylan for ulcerative colitis), and my daughter on antibiotics for an ear infection. I prayed that if any more illness is to fall on my family, please God, let it fall on me. Which reminds me to say be careful what you pray for, you may just get it. hahaha
For anyone reading the story of Robbie, I regret to say, it may take me a few days to complete.

2005-10-18T06:11:00.000-07:00

Our lovely daughter, Rachael is 4 years old now! A beautiful, brilliant and charming girl!! She has just started Jr. Kindergarden. We love you, Rach!

2005-10-18T06:08:00.000-07:00

This is a recent picture our beloved Robbie.
You would never know just by looking at this picture that he was ever ill!
We love you Robbie!!!

2005-10-14T16:24:00.000-07:00

Part Three

I find it a little difficult to tip toe around this one. Every birth story has it's good and it's not so good points. I promise to use as much discretion as possible around this next topic.

Robbie was so little, however the doctor could not understand why, because when he measured my stomach before delivery, I measured up. We would soon come to know why. When I had an abruption in the first trimester, blood had begun to coagulate and attach itself firmly to the side of the uterus. A thrombus of conciderable size was growing at the same rate as would a baby growing in the womb. Therefore, when the doctor measured each week, when he assumed he was measuring only the baby, he was measuring both the baby and the large thrombus. Had I have delivered in the beginning of the 20th century, I would have bled to death. Sometimes, when I see the pain that Robbie goes through, I wish I had.

I will only go on to say it took 2 shots directly in my thighs of oxytocin, and an interveinous drip of pitocin, uterine massage and the physical removal of the placenta to resolve this situation. The doctor was amazed at the size of the placenta. Completely intact, was almost exactly half the size of a normal one.

Robbie was "lucky to have survived."

Survive, he did. I have never seen such an intense drive to live.

Robbie has a lengthy medical record thus far in his short life. When we brought him home, it was to a house where two cats had also been living. There was carpet in the livingroom, the stairway, the hallway and in all the bedrooms in the house. This I never thought this would eventually be a major problem for our dear son's life. Robbie had several trips to the doctor about many things. Hunches, really. Something's wrong- but I don't know what.

"I think he might have exceedingly narrow nose passages?"

"Why is he such a loud breather?"

"Why do you think he has difficulty looking to the left?"

"Does the shape of his head look funny to you?"

These are among the many questions I had.

"The majority of babies wheeze to some extent" was the typical answer I would get.

Then IT happened.

A moment in time that changed everything. It was the day before Robbie was to be christened at my dad's church. Robbie wouldn't stop coughing and wheezing, literally gasping for breath. I went to the doctor, all of my family, friends, anyone who would help me understand what was going on with our baby.

"Does he seem ill to you?"

"Does that sound normal?"

"What's going on with my son?"

Not to come down on my family or friends, (although the doctor should have picked up on something) most just said "he's fine, don't worry it's probably just a cold."

Anyone who is reading this and is a mother, you just know when something is wrong.

Never deny your 'mother's instinct'.

I felt alone, somewhat betrayed, slipped through the cracks of the medical society.

Does anyone care about Robbie?!

So I did it.

All alone, I said "enough is enough!!" and I took him to the hospital at 5am after hearing him cough all night.

Again, God was the driving force behind the decision to take him to the hospital. I felt that I had to sneak off in the night, as to not draw attention to the fact that I was just a 'worried mother'.

God was in that hospital room with us that terrible morning.

The medical staff at the hospital didn't really know what to make of Robbie, or where to start testing. They started with blood and worked their way around. Xray of his chest revealed that he had something like pneumonia, bronchiolitis. Inflammation of the bronchiolles or alvioli. It was at that time they thought to check the level of oxygen in his blood.

It was 84%. 'Not that bad' I thought, or at least until everyone in the room stopped and looked up at each other. Intuition again, told me something wasn't right. I burst into tears, mostly scared, but mad, really angry it had come to this.

Why didn't anyone listen to me?

Robbie and I were taken to the nearest pediatric hospital by ambulance. "Code 4." Lights and sirens. Robbie had to have oxygen on him at all times. If the O2 mask was taken away from his face, all his levels (stats.) would drop.

I still didn't really know what was going on, so I asked the paramedic to show me the medical files, but neither she nor I could really understand what was written.

Robbie was admitted for 4 days, given prednisone, and was released only when he could go a whole night without needing to be given O2.

Almost 2 weeks later, we went through an identical situation. Emergency room in the middle of the night, taken to the same hospital, stayed for 3 days.

It was at this point, however, that the doctor suggested that Robbie could have Asthma.

He also noted the strange way that our son held his head, and how flat it was on the one side. "I'll arrange to have you see a physiotherapist for that, he'll need to have that fixed, or he'll hate you for the rest of his life." he said in a joking manner.

I was given videos, pamphlets, books, and anything that had to do with asthma.

Upon discharge, the doctor asked me if anyone in the family smoked. I instantly felt like I needed to plead my case. Never EVER in the house, in the cars, or anywhere around him!!! Yes, however, I smoke. He began to tell me that it is in my hair and on my clothes, and that I may as well be smoking while holding the baby. Guilt, remorse, anger, and fear that this was all my fault hit me harder than anything I had ever felt. Was this all my fault?

I am proud to say that from that moment to this, I have not picked up another cigarette.

We were instructed to 'clean house'. Get rid of as many 'triggers' as humanly possible.

First however, where can we stay while we learn how to administer this new medication and learn how to treat this confusing disease? Where can we stay while we change the things that need changing in our home?

To be Continued
Love, Barbara

For insight into this question you can visit Dawsonwood blog spot. We are briefly mentioned in a few blogs there. Inlaws and Outlaws, I believe is the name of one of them.

2005-10-13T18:30:00.000-07:00

Part Two

When we arrived at the hospital, I dropped Dylan off at the emergency department, then went to park the car. By the time Rachael and I got to the front door of the hospital, Dylan had already been taken into the cardiac ward of the emergency department. We at that point were unable to go in and see him.

What I now know was going on in that room was that Dylan had been hooked up to EEGs,

ECGs, blood thinners and what seemed like a maze of wires and drips. According to the machines, Dylan was having a heart attack. In reality,( and I am forever grateful), Dylan had developed Pericarditis. Pericarditis is an inflammation and hardening of the fluid around the heart. Apparently excrutiatingly painful. He was admitted the hospital in the C.C.U. which just happened to be right around the corner from my Grandmother who was admitted the same night. Once things had settled(for lack of a better term) because Dylan was confined to the bed, my Grandmother(once a"League of Mercy visitor with the Salvation Army) and visitors were able to visit both Grandma Mary and Dylan at the same time. My dear Grandma Mary, weakened, frail and at the best of times forgetful, managed to come down the hall (with supervision) to have a visit with Dylan. This was something she used to do when she was younger. Being a true Salvationist, she would make visits to people in the hospital for various reasons, whether they were from the Army or not. We did not know this at the time, but this would be her last "official" visit as an active member of the League of Mercy. Having Alzheimer's, she's probably long forgotten.

Emotions were tight, but what kept me going was my faith. I had to keep my faith. Faith that God would answer prayer, keep us safe, comfort and protect all of us.

Dylan was in the Cardiac Care Unit for 4 days. Released again, under my care. By this time I felt like a total failure. As if it were all my fault. If only I had been a better caretaker. Fear set in, I felt paralyzed by it, engulfed by it, completely absorbed by fear. I think I went that night to a meeting of AA, or spoke to my sponsor, and was taught again to 'have faith' God doesn't ever give us more than we can handle. Fear=Lack of Faith

F.A.I.T.H. meant 'Father Always In Thy Hands', and more words of wisdom. The fellowship and support was overwhelming. At the same time, however(and I don't mean to be ungrateful), I wished that God would stop having such confidence in me to 'handle' all of this. The 'pity me' almost drove me mad.

Dylan slowly got better, and something amazing happened. Dylan's employers do not have health insurance of any kind, and knowing that we had just purchaced our new home, with me not working, brought us his cheque every week, right to our door. Without thier generosity, and thoughtfulness we surely would not have managed. As we slowly unpacked we began to have time to prepare for the baby only two short months ahead.

Moving right along, Robbie was delivered naturally on January 17, 2005. At a mere 5 lbs 0 oz.

IUGR is what they labeled him with, severely malnourished, dehydrated and born with hypospadias, which is being corrected by reconstructive surgery January 10th of 2006.

After the took him away to be hooked up to glucose, and incubated, and monitored, the focus shifted to me. "The bleeding isn't stopping" I heard one nurse say. The doctor came over and just by the looks of their faces, I knew something was terribly wrong.

They would all gather in the hall to talk. This can't be good, I thought.

to be continued

Love Barbara

2005-10-12T23:20:00.000-07:00

When It Comes To Illness And Disease, I think I Might Just Know What I'm Talking About

To anyone who has been reading and following the series "Playing God" by Connie, I am delighted and honored to be remembered in prayer by so many. I am Robbie' s Mother. There is so much more to our story, and if you're interested, stick around.

Just before I discovered I was pregnant with our second child, Robbie, I had decided to sober-up, so to speak. My husband had been ill for a few years with an autoimmune disease, and we decided it was time to move on with our lives. We began looking for a new house in a nicer, more 'family like' neighbourhood. We finally found it! The perfect home! Only by luck, prayer, an act of God, and a good real estate agent we aquired this fine home (within minutes of the deal closing).

By this time I had 7 months of sobriety under my belt, sciatica, an abruption early in my pregnancy, a toddler to look after, and boxes everywhere. Without warning my husband became extremely ill. Dehydrated, anemic, with yet another flare up of his intestenal disease. An already slender man, he lost 25 pounds in less than 2 weeks. Weakened by blood loss, and severe dehydration, I took him to our family doctor several times in that week. Each time we were told to 'relax, and take it easy. Don't worry, everything will be alright soon.'

After exhaustion and frustration, when my husband was at what I thought was at his worst, I dragged him to the hospital. They gasped at the sight of him and brought him in immediately- asking me why I didn't get him there sooner. Four hours and 4 letres of interveinous saline later, they sent him home-under my care. I was to feed him 10 mls. of applesauce every 10 minutes and 1 ounce of Gatorade every minute.

I did my best, family came to relieve me once in a while and to help with our daughter, Rachael.

My husband, Dylan got worse. I feared for his life.

In a fit of fear, I phoned my Mom to tell her the latest. "Take him to the hospital!" she said. Thankfully I listened. At the hospital, they did further testing, and they had discovered a blood clot in his lungs-a direct result of dehydration. Dylan had to give blood directly from an artery in his wrist, and was given 'clotbusters' and something for his anxiety. Surgery was briefly talked about. The next morning I accompanied him to the nearest hospital via ambulance to have nuclear testing on his lungs to locate the blood clot and its' size.

A miracle happened that day- the blood clot, was gone.

No surgery, but not quite out of the woods yet.

Again, he was sent home with heavy doses of prednisone and other medications, a strict diet, complete bed rest, around the clock care and a feeling of helplessness.

Shortly after that, once we had established a routine in our

no-yet-unpacked-new-house,

things started to settle down, slowly Dylan stabilized.

I began to wonder what affects all of this stress might be having on the baby. I tried to tell my doctor that I felt like something was wrong- and again, my feelings were quickly dismissed. I should've persisted, I guess.

A week or so passed, and after coming home late one night from being with my grandmother who has alzeimers disease and was just admitted to hospital for internal bleeding, I began to think more about my own recovery. I rested, trying to come to grips with all that was happing around me and within me.

Shortly after falling asleep my husband gently woke me up.

"Barb...my chest really hurts." I feel ashamed to say this, but I sharply said

" does it feel like an elephant is standing on your chest?!"

Not really knowing the seriousness of the situation, I was shocked when he replied

"yes"

"Do you feel short of breath, or have pain in your arm or jaw?"

And again he said

"yes"

He refused to call an ambulance. He thought it would be faster by car.

So I bundled up our daughter, as he sat curled at the bottom of the stairs waiting for us to get things together, and off we went again- to the hospital

To be continued

Love Barbara

2005-10-11T21:40:00.000-07:00

"A wrongdoer is often a man that has left something undone, not always he that has done something."

This is a quote I happend to come by today, by Marcus Aurelius.

When I read this quote today I automatically felt as though I was a 'wrongdoer'. How many things have I left undone today? Yesterday? The past year... or four? huh. That much.

Guilt crept into my thoughts. I sat and pondered this idea of things left undone, or procrastinated - due to fear, humility, weakness, shame or sheer laziness. How important is it that all things that I want to do... get done? Since I haven't gotten everything I need done, and rarely ever do, in one day am I a "regular wrongdoer"? The very thought of this makes my heart and mind hurt. As my mind raced through all the things in my life I didn't do, I wanted done already, I had yet to do, and so on, my mind thankfully came to a screeching halt. The whirlwind of my selfcentered, egotistic mind came to rest. Suddenly, it came to me. All of these 'things left undone' were material! Plus, they were all about me. So I stopped. While trying to stop over-analizing this quote, I thought to myself, 'what un-materialistic things have I left undone thus far-today?'

When I woke up this morning did I ask God for help to get through this day? Did I ask that it be divorced from self-seeking motives or self-pity? Was I thankful for yesterday? Did I tell those that I love so much just how much I love them? Did I thank God for having these people in my life? Have I been greatful for anything today?

Much to my dismay, I hadn't. Today, I woke up and the coffee maker was broken, I have been busy keeping the house tidy, administering antibiotics to one child while getting her to daycare, and the other child has suddenly spiked a fever, unsubsided by tylenol, while I get ready to go to my Yoga/Pilates class at the gym. So, as any alcoholic hates, there had to be a change of plans. Arrange babysitting, hit the gym, pick up a friend, go for coffee, complain that life just doesn't seem to be going MY way lately, get dinner on the table, get the children bathed, into bed to have some ME time.

Is it too late?

No, there's still time left today.

God, thank you for showing me what your will is for me today. Please help me to let go of my selfish desires, and to understand what your will is for me today, and everyday.

As all of this unravelled in my mind I was reminded of a prayer,

The Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an

instrument of your peace;

Where there is hatred,

let me sow love;

Where there is injury,

pardon;

Where there is doubt,

faith;

Where there is dispair,

hope;

Where there is darkness,

light;

And where there is sadness,

joy.

O devine Master,

Grant that I may not so

much seek to be consoled

as to console;

To be understood as to

understand;

To be loved, as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are

pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

2005-10-05T08:20:00.000-07:00

Recovery is about learning new truths

As a recovering alcoholic, discovery of new things is an everyday occurance. Not every new discovery is one to rejoice. For instance, today I discovered that I am not perfect. I also discovered that no matter how hard I try, I can't be, and others around me cannot be perfect too.

Today, while speaking to a friend of mine I discovered that I can sometimes set unreasonable demands upon myself, and others for that matter. Not something I really enjoyed hearing or accepting as being true, but I certainly can't deny it either.

With my son being ill with severe asthma, I expect that I can dust everyday, sweep and mop the floors everyday, create a fabulous dinner and tidy up afterwards, spend quality time with my children and husband as well as find time to attend my AA meetings, go to the gym, finish my placement at college and help others I love.

"Unreasonable expectations" my friend told me, can lead to resentments both of myself and towards others. Thus, embarking on a downward spiral into unhealthy thoughts and actions.

However disappointing and surprising this revolation was to me, it made me understand that today I can create a new truth for my life- I am human- vulnerable, imperfect, but loving and loved as a child of God who will never give me more than I can handle. So today, I pray that I may be truly humble and yet have self respect. I pray that I may see the good in myself as well as the bad.

2005-10-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

Inner Peace

This morning I woke up with a sense of peace and serenity.

How very odd that on a cloudy morning, after not being able to sleep well, I should awake to feel somewhat refreshed, ready to handle this next twenty four hours.

The reason I speak of this is, because I normally don't. I really don't like mornings.

Life in the past while has been traumatic and dreadful most of the time.

In the past 3 months, my new son, Robbie has been diagnosed with Asthma, Congenital muscular torticollis, was born with I.U.G.R., and another little glitch that will be fixed through reconstructive surgery on January the 10th of next year. Many midnight trips to the hospital, ambulance rides to pediatric hospials, clinics and physiotherapy have made my life a little shaky this past while. My husband suffers from an auto immune disease which greatly affects his well being and enjoyment of life. Just this past month or so he has lost and regained 25 pounds. Risky business if you ask me, but the doctors want to avoid surgery like the black plague. So does my husband. And I can't blame them, really. Who does ever really WANT to have surgery?

Tomorrow I take a trip with my son to the Asthma clinic. His last bad episode with asthma was just last week when he was placed on prednisone to reduce the inflammation in his lungs.
I pray that everything will be fine.

This morning however, apon awaking and after praying that this day be free from self seeking motives, resentment, and of fear, this calm warm feeling came over me. Today is a new day, and all I need to do is to ask for help that I may do God's Will.

I know there is a plan for us all, and as soon as I start listening and stop fighting my life will go according to plan. Remembering that it is not my plan, but his.

This brings about my Inner Peace

Barbara

2005-10-02T20:17:00.000-07:00

Barbara

2005-10-02T09:44:00.000-07:00

Every human being has a story. We all have difficult battles to fight. Some are fighting difficult battles every minute of every day. My battle is Alcoholism.

Quite often, I feel as though it's only me who has to struggle with the insurmountable obstacles which seem to surface everyday. Only I have problems, responsiblilities, burdens, faults and pain to endure. However, 18 months ago I opened my eyes. I saw that other members in my family, friends, other human beings had lives too. Some had endured more pain than I could ever imagine, lost loved ones to murder, to accidents, suicides, miscarriages. Some lost their entire livelyhoods, homes, wealth, self worth, self respect even hope for the future.

Eighteen months ago I decided that I didn't want to live the way I was living. I didn't want to live, and I didn't want to die. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. Life frightened me, I was ashamed of who I had become. An Alcoholic. I felt so sorry for myself. Poor me, anything but an alcoholic! How could this be? I grew up in the Salvation Army, I was Christened, even a Jr. Soldier! I have never been beaten, or poor. I don't have a criminal record, I still have my cute little family, a mortgage, nice things, I never needed more than I already had. How could this have happened to ME? What would my family think? My friends? My husband?

Believe me, they already knew.

I went to a meeting of AA, and after hearing a few stories, I knew this is where I belonged.

I was told to keep coming back, it gets better. Don't pick up that first drink and come to lots of meetings. Only live in today. Acceptance-of people, places and things. This really worked!

As I thought more of 0thers, and what they have been through, I realized that my life really wasn't so bad, I stopped feeling so sorry for myself. I quit drinking, and almost immediately felt better!( physically anyway) I started to notice things that I would have never noticed before. Life took on a whole new meaning. Suddenly, my new epervescent self started to emerge! Love was deeper, spirituality- replenished,the sun- brighter, hope- restored, sanity started to step in, a clear path for my life started to reveal itself to me. I began to realize that God had never left me, I left him. It was only God who kept me safe during my troubled teens. Today I am so greatful that I have a loving and forgiving God working in and through my life today. Only through God's grace can I stay sober, clean and able to carry the message of his strength, power, and abundant love.

It has been a long struggle to get to where I am today, but it has all been worth it. Today I have compassion, hope and gratitude.