Biopsies

During a routine female exam, my doctor checked my thyroid and found it to be, as she put it, "full." Bloodwork came back normal, but she still wasn't totally okay with the way the thyroid actually felt. So I went in to get an ultrasound on my thyroid. Turns out I have three solid nodules on the right side of my thyroid. I went in to my ENT yesterday and found that out. He wasn't particularly comforting, and let me know that I would need to have a fine needle biopsy done on all three nodules to rule out cancer.

Chances of them being malignant? 5-10%. It depends on who you ask. My percentage goes up based on my age, the fact that the nodules are solid and not cystic, and the fact that I don't exactly have a good family history with cancer.

My mind has been preoccupied with it for the past 24 hours. It's not that I fear cancer, or even death...it's just the not knowing that's dominating my thoughts. Chances are they will simply be benign, and I'll just have to watch them for the rest of my life.

But all the same, if you could keep me in your prayers, I would be most appreciative. I get the biopsies done on Tuesday and then find out the results however long after that. My nurse was good enough to tell me that if the results were benign, they would tell me so over the phone and then schedule an appointment to see what's next. If they were not...well, they'll just call me and tell me to come in. I think it would have been better if she'd told me that she would just call me when I needed to come in and discuss the results. :)

Oo-kay?

So Chris and I go to marital counseling. No, we are not in a marital crisis. Yes, we were in marital crisis the first time we went. We went another time in between then and now as well.

Counseling was ALWAYS something that had a negative stigma to me. I figured only really screwed up people went to counseling. When I was a kid, I knew of only a couple of kids who went to counseling, and I always thought badly of them. Judge me if you will.

Of course, after you get married you realize how futile arguments seem to become after multiple failed attempts at reconciliation. Pre-marital counseling didn't feel like real counseling...everybody has to go if they want to be married in that particular church. But after a couple of years, I wanted to go to marital counseling with Chris. A whole bunch of friends in my bible study went with their spouses, and I was sure this would be the end-all be-all to my marital frustrations.

Chris was not so open to the idea. He had had his own experiences with counseling as a child after his parents' divorces and subsequent remarriages to other people. I don't think he looked back on them fondly.

Another three years later, we found ourselves smack dab in the middle of marital crisis. "Divorce" was being thrown all over the place, I was severely depressed. It got to a point where I ended up in personal counseling, which quickly turned into marital counseling.

While the first several sessions did very little to help our marriage, the sessions after the truth came out about why we were actually in marital counseling were life changing. I am still amazed at the progress and healing that came about as a result of marital counseling, and it was definitely a good healthy mixture of the amazingness of our counselor, and both Chris and I's persistent work on the things we so badly needed to work on.

Recently we've been going as more of a preventative type thing. We still have issues (don't all married people though), and we've enjoyed the first few sessions.

However...A funny and sort of "huh?" moment came out of it.

At the end of a particularly soul-bearing session, our counselor stopped talking, and so did we. She looked at both of us and said, "You know, if you guys hadn't had your faith, you would have been divorced a long time ago. I have never met two more polar opposites in marital counseling than you two. Your communications styles, personalities, everything are all completely opposite of each other. Steph, you're "slow and steady wins the race" and Chris, you're "fast and.......jumpy."

I thought the fast and jumpy part was funny. The rest was a little disheartening. My "half-glass empty" brain started going, "Is she saying that we SHOULDN'T be married? That we never should have been married? That marriage for us will always be incredibly difficult?" I drove home with those same thoughts zooming through my head.

Chris had class later that night, and was getting ready to go, when he noticed I was looking pretty down. He came over to me, pulled me up, and gave me a big hug. "Did the stuff our counselor said make you upset?"

"Yeah...," I said, the tears starting to come down again.

"Well I think it's a good thing," (my "glass overflowing" husband said) "and you want to know why?"

"Why?," I said, in my most pathetic voice.

"Because it means that we're not just both being incredibly selfish! The stuff we deal with is just because we're so different! Don't worry, honey, we'll make it." And with that, he gave me a big kiss, another hug, and fed me dinner. :)

And that is where I think that while we are indeed polar opposites, God has been and will able to work through us and our marriage in mighty ways. Because, as our counselor pointed out, were it not for Him, there would be no way we could be here, in our home, with our beautiful kids, and recognizing His mighty power to work miracles...including helping two polar opposites have a happy marriage.

Yaaaayyyy!

I know it's sideways, but the day has finally come that we thought never would....

He's 20 months old, almost 21...but he did finally do it. Yaay, Jeffy!

"I'm Wishing..."

Andrew LOVES movies. He'll get on a movie kick and stay with the same movie for weeks. Lately it's been "Snow White." And while he still can't hold a conversation, he can memorize a song like it's nobody's business. Here's his latest musical triumph, accompanied by Kadee Joy and sometimes loud Mommy.

Failure to Thrive

So after being denied for Medicaid...again...We're going the Katy Beckett route. This route can provide Medicaid to people who make too much money, but who have children with severe enough disabilities. I think it's funny that the government thinks we make too much money with my lone teacher's salary.

Amid the mass of paperwork is the Physicians Evaluation. Today, Chris took the boys to our pediatrician, the wonderfully empathetic Dr. Copeland.

As I read through the long medical history of both my boys, my eyes caught the words "Failure to Thrive" on Jeffy's evaluation. Our rheumatologist was the first to use these words when referring us to the neurologist. Jeffy is in the 1st percentile for weight. I knew he was small...I just didn't realize he was that small. But then again, as I took him out of his evening shower (he loves them), I was able to carry him easily in my arms, just as I always have, just like a newborn baby. He is so tiny.

I also had the strange thought that I sometimes get that wonders how I would have reacted had I, before children, before marriage, looked into the future on this day-what would I have thought about the words that stuck out?

"Motor Delay"
"Expressive speech delay"
"Failure to Thrive"
"Metopic Craniosynostosis repair"
"Sensory Integration Disorder"
"Autism"

My beautiful boys.

What has invaded their bodies and minds, bringing these upon them? And what has my own part been in them?

I feel some days, like today, that Andrew was robbed of his mind, and Jeffy was robbed of his body. I see these words and scoff at my own naivete that assumed my children would be completely healthy, without flaw, without pain. That I could hold conversations with them...that I could make them understand me...that they would grow up, graduate from college, marry, have children...without even a thought about just how many thing have to come together for life to work like that. But this is foolish thinking, weak thinking, negative thinking...For the time being I would be excited for my dear Jeffy to walk without pain...or even just to WALK, for Andrew to tell me how he feels, or to care how I feel.

But in the meantime, I will seek all the help for them I can. And I will remember what I already know...that these labels come nowhere close to defining my sons. My Jeffy, with his beautiful big brown eyes, infectious giggle, and funny little gait. My Andrew, with his irrepressible joy at the unseen, his songs, his dances, his amazing strength, and his warm snuggles.

And so I look forward to the day when we will all be restored from our weak earthly vessels into our new heavenly bodies, and where we may all understand and be understood.

Bleh.

It's Thursday, the day before Good Friday, and I'll admit that I'm pretty nauseous.

Chris had class tonight and I had choir practice for the Good Friday service. Chris' 17 year old brother Charlie moved in with us yesterday, and so we worked it out that he would go with Chris' older brother Rich to his house for the evening while Chris went to class and I took the kids with me.

So Chris, Rich, and Charlie all left for their respective places, and I started to make a little dinner for the kids and I. And five minutes later, Jeffy puked all over himself, the kitchen floor, and some of the carpet in the living room. SICK.

He's acted pretty miserable since then, although the upchucking has ceased. You'd think I'd be used to the ill bodily functions by now...but gross churned milk vomit is still a point of weakness for me, and I've been on the edge since the aforementioned puking.

It's been another week of change. We're feeling very positive about Charlie coming to live with us. He, his parents, and Chris and I all reached the point at relatively the same time where this particular change in living quarters seemed to make sense. So we are hopeful that Charlie's prospects will come into clearer view, and that he will find strengths and opportunities that will help grow him into the man God so lovingly desires him to be.

Jeffy's playing the piano right now. I'm pretty sure he's going to be the artistic one in our family. We can set him down with a Magna Doodle or in front of a piano and he'll be content to create on either for much longer than any normal 1 year old.

Kadee Joy decided to increase her mother's overall amount of patience by testing it the other night. She had been begging me to be allowed to chew a large wad of that gross, cheap bubble gum that comes in the huge packs of candy. So, finally, I assented. She wanted to take a bath, and Andrew did as well, so I piled them into my jacuzzi tub, poured in the bubbles, and left them for two minutes.

Apparently, two minutes is all you need to get a wad of gum stuck in your brothers hair. Mind you, it was in her mouth. Still not quite sure what she was doing to get it into his hair. Andrew had quite the mane when this happened, and the gum was so big that it turned his scalp into quite the disaster. Needless to say, after working on it for a while, the decision was made to cut Andrew's hair. Chris was at class, so the task fell to me. Andrew did not appreciate it, and Kadee Joy was sent to bed.

I must say that I don't think I've ever seen a more pathetic hair cut. And now the poor boy has a cold sore. All in all, he looks like a very sad little fellow. Kadee Joy is still apologizing for it. I had to cut the hair around the gum shorter than the rest, so he has a little bald spot to add to the pathetic effect. Ugh.

So now I'm hoping that Chris will get done with class early and come relieve me of the baby boy and his puke. It doesn't seem to matter how much I clean him...the odor lingers.

I had another dizzy spell yesterday, right around the time my kindergartners were set to come in. My team of specialists (teachers, mind you :) once again came to the rescue and took my classes until a sub was able to come in. I came home and slept for five hours. Sleep really does seem to be the only way of abating the symptoms once a spell has started.

Alright, Andrew wants to shower, and let's be honest, he needs to. Off to the races again.

I don't want to play anymore

My adventure with the withdrawal of my anti-depressant took a sharp turn downward this morning. I think I was working on day 5 without it (remembering, of course, that the tapering off has been going on for several weeks) and felt like I was doing well.

Then Chris was late getting back from the store, making it so that I missed the hair appointment I had scheduled for this morning.

And friends, I cried, and I cried, and I fell asleep, and I cried, and I did the dishes while I cried, and I took another nap, and I cried.

Naturally...my crying had very little to do with my hair appointment having to be rescheduled. But I certainly created a fun morning for my husband and children. It got to the point where I started trying to come up reasons for why I was crying. And when I spoke them aloud, they sounded even stupider than they had sounded in my head.

So, I took my dose of anti-depressant. Apparently a week is still too long to go without. It was horrible, although luckily my poor husband was able to deal with it fairly cheerfully, and got a lot of outside work done while I sobbed over the household chores.

On a not all that less slightly irritating note, Jeffy went into to the pediatric neurologist on Thursday. After being in the office for an hour and a half, we were told that it didn't appear that there was really all that much wrong...at least from a neurological standpoint. He became the fourth doctor to suggest physical and occupational therapy, which we've been on several waiting lists for for a few months now. He had nothing to say about the high rate of inflammation in Jeffy's body, other than that area was not his area but rather in the area of the rheumatologist who had referred us. Oh bother.

My great grandmother also passed away this week, so instead of going to Women' s Retreat, I will be flying over to Oregon to attend her memorial. I'm bummed about missing Women's Retreat, but really there was no thinking about which was more important. My grandmother's house (at least, where she lived before being put in a wonderful home for seniors needing assistance) complete with a beautiful garden, waterfall, and forest as her backyard, has always been the closest thing to heaven I have found on this world.

Back to work was up and down as well. I had some fantastic days with my kids, but some classes that were simply out of control. I'm looking forward to summer now...In my heart and mind in can't come fast enough.

If only all brothers and sisters got along this well...

I've started so many blogs since my last one, but obviously have not finished any of them. Sometimes I will try to write on subject that I think someone in particular might want to read...and that NEVER works.

So let's see. We've been having a productive Spring Break. Not necessarily fun, but definitely productive. My mom came into town on Sunday night, and pretty much the minute she came into town, the purging began. My mom is a great purger. It should be her middle name. She sent two days straight helping Chris and I get our house into order. We filled pretty much an entire dumpster with papers that had needed to be sorted for two years. She also took 7 or 8 loads of laundry to a local laundromat and washed and folded them for us. Why doesn't she live closer?!

We also played a lot of cards and Monopoly. We had friends and family over pretty much every night, which was a lot like my whole teenage years. She also got me a PLANNER...something she's used since she was 18, and something that she's been wishing her disorganized daughter would use for the last 20. I've been using it like crazy so far (all two days)...we'll see if I keep it up after school starts back up again.

Update on Jeffy: Still not walking... so we took him back to the rheumatologist yesterday who decided that the next course of action should be to take him to the pediatric neurologist. He was able to "convince" them to take us in next week. The doctor was scheduled out until June. Not sure if this is a good sign or a bad sign. He used the word "malignant" which is never good, but used it only as something that is naturally at the back of a physician's mind when the SED rate continues to remain so high, but the usual rheumatic treatment fails to change anything. It's definitely not arthritis anymore, not muscular...so we're headed to brain issues now. Please continue to pray for additional wisdom for the doctors, and for protection for our dear boy. He's generally very smiley and giggly, but gets tired so easily, and is just not strong.

Andrew is still doing well, loving life, and very very smiley. He's such a joy.

Kadee Joy is brilliant as usual, and a little too smart and social for her own good. She officially quit ballet after a particularly tantrumish day...I was deeply saddened, but it appears she will have to take her natural athleticism a different way. As she put it she "wants to make her OWN dance." Isn't that the way of it.

My withdrawal from my anti-depressant has hit the more difficult wall of spacing out my doses every three days. I'm great the day I take it, and the next, and then the third day I'm an absolute basket case. The other night I went into "the depths of despair" as Anne Shirley calls it, but was able to intellectually tell myself that it would be better in the morning. And it was. I'm still hopeful that I will be able to wean completely off of it, although the walls have made it seem a much more challenging than it was the first ten days.

Today I coerced Chris into watching "Twilight" with me on DVD. He very graciously did not make fun of it while we were watching it. What a nice guy. We got some much needed snuggle time in while the kids took their naps. March Madness showed back up tonight, so naturally it will be on all night. My picks are winning as of this moment, which is good news for me personally, bad news for my husband. My goals in my marriage right now are to work on the areas of respect and physical affection with my husband. These are issues that we've always struggled with, and seem to go in waves of difficulty. Right now, I am riding a pretty big one. Please pray for me in this area, if you think of it.

I got to go to coffee with a friend of mine today, who did a great job of helping me my own life into perspective, and also allowed the Holy Spirit to convict me in several areas. Not in a "don't gossip" kind of way, but her struggles helped me to recognize my own struggles, and as I proceeded to give advice, I realized that I needed to be giving the same to myself.

School starts up again next week, and I can't believe it's already the 4th quarter. What an insane year. But I will say, it has been a great year.

Okay, off to spend time with my family. I am hoping we will be able to do something fun tomorrow or Saturday before I go back to work. And also hoping that the weather will turn warm again.

Costume party

A friend of ours had a costume party for her son's fourth birthday. We actually got costumes, and are so glad we did. Aren't they the cutest things ever? Jeffy is Curious George, Andrew is a "future" golfer, and Kadee Joy is Cinderella.

I decided to try and cheat on my diet and eat a piece of pizza...and now I'm paying for it. Both my ears are so full I can hardly hear. I think I've learned my lesson. :)

Withdrawal

Hi everyone! How's your morning going? Mine is going FANTASTICALLY well.

This past week and a half (well, three weeks, really) have been CRAZY. A few field trips, a lot more doctors appointments, my huge fourth grade musical....and withdrawal. Withdrawal from caffeine. Withdrawal from sodium. Withdrawal from restaurants and fast food places.

And to top it all off, this week I've tapered off my anti-depressant. So withdrawal from that too.

I didn't really think through what that would do to this week in particular, but I finally got to the point where I realized my actual need for the anti-depressant really was now only equated with my fear of what I would be like going off of it. And let me tell you, my fears of what I would become upon going off of it have been terrifying.

However, I came to another realization that finally helped me jump off the boat of fear and into the world of no anti-depressant. I have been very mellow on my anti-depressant. In the beginning, that was a much needed qualification as to why I should be taking it. I was so, so low, all the time. Being mellow was several steps up from that. And when I became mellow, I was able to think through steps without the barrage of emotions that had been blocking my ability to deal with life in a healthy way.

Being mellow (for me anyway) opened up many paradigm shifts in my head. My way was not necessarily the only way. Things not being done exactly as I wanted them did not necessitate berating the person who did it differently. Dishes not being done right away were not a cause for a meltdown. Going from irritated to screaming in a matter of seconds was not a healthy handling of life. Expecting perfection from myself and others was not realistic and would generate feelings of anger that were unjustified.

Notice a common thread here?

Unfortunately, this mellowness, while allowing me to figure out better ways of thinking through situations, also produced an almost apathetic view towards the things that actually needed to get done. As a result, my ability to handle finances, meet deadlines, and keep my house organized and clean (at least, as much as I usually do :) have greatly, greatly suffered. And then, to be honest...I don't care even when I see them suffer. I just physically do not care.

And physically and emotionally, I just don't experience any sort of highs or lows. I've visited the lowlands a few times when I'm a few hours late on my anti-depressant, but the highs have been left out of my life for quite a while. And not because I want to...I just can't get there.

And so, I realized that my thinking had changed enough to warrant at least thinking about going off of the anti-depressant. And my work, home, and marriage had suffered enough from my lack of emotion and drive that I realized I needed to at least try going off of it.

And so, one day, I did. And of course, that day, I felt STRESSED. I could feel it in my shoulders...my muscles in them were hard as rocks. It didn't help that my musical was two days away and I finally realized fully just how much I needed to do.

And then, something amazing happened. I was motivated enough to DO THEM. And I did. And I have kept doing them. Of course, I realize that it has only been four days (and don't worry, I'm under doctor supervision and am still taking them every couple of days so that my brain and body don't hate me), but the things that I have been able to FEEL again have been incredible. The day of my program, I was able to see and insist on details that needed to be better. And the night of my program I was able to really celebrate how great the kids were and how well the whole thing came off.

And at home, I've been catching up on all the things I've been putting off for months. Of course, I'm walking and talking faster as my brain moves faster, and I have much more energy (which could also be due to the fact that I'm no longer eating crap and drinking only caffeinated drinks), and I am feeling physically renewed.

So I'm optimistic. Spring is coming, I'm catching up, and I'm motivated.

Withdrawal is tough, but I think coming through the clouds will be worth it.