A Thread of My Own

My days pass so quickly - tending to this and then that - I start threads in my mind and then never get them finished. This, I pray, will be a spot to place them and maybe even share...a thread of my own.
Showing posts with label Cystic Fibrosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cystic Fibrosis. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Ramblings

It's been a while since I've landed here.  There have been so many things going on and I stay so busy with all our beautiful blessings.

It's been a year since our little one was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis.  Wow.  A year ago I was such a mess.  What a time of learning and  trusting in the Lord it has been.  Things are in a predictable routine now and I'm not so overwhelmed.  I am thanking God for this season of calm and good health.  Our little guy is doing so well.  His weight is up and he's doing awesome.

Now that things have settled down with our little guy I've had time to devote to my own health.  I had been putting off a lot of things because there was no time and I was so focused on CF.  But, now I've been able to see a couple of docs and do some more research into what's been ailing me.  Inflammatory arthritis.  Talk about complicated.  The doctor is leaning towards a further diagnosis of what kind of inflammatory arthritis it is.  Undifferentiated Spondylarthropy or Rheumatoid Arthritis.  He's leaning towards to former and so am I.  There have been so many symptoms over the years and they have just gotten worse.  The medication is helping to improve my symptoms.  But, I continue to have fatigue, low grade fevers, pains that migrate from day to day, and the continued uncertainty of exactly what kind of arthritis I have.  It's been a relief to finally get some answers.  I see the rheumy doc in a couple of months for a follow up.  I pray to have further answers then.

Well, I can hear one of the blessings coughing upstairs.  Think I should go check.  Thanks for reading and I hope to become more regular about posting.

God bless.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Balance, Responsibility, Denial & Paranoia

Balance is so tricky.  How do you balance caution and smart practical steps, true paranoia and what others perceive as such?  How do you know which is which?  When is it that you have slipped from one to the other?  How do you recognize denial of either?

I must admit irritation at those who condescend to others voicing concerns.  Especially if those concerns were posed by their CF doctors.  I see such a divergence of opinions and approaches between parents of CFers and the adult CFers themselves.  I think it human nature for an adult to be somewhat more cavalier about their own health than that of a parent of a child ~ CF or not.  But, when the adult CFer turns this attitude toward the parent.....well, as a CF parent, I get a bit irritated.

Cystic Fibrosis is all about salt and water processes and ultimately mucus.  But, it's not so much the mucus that kills.  It's the bacteria's use of the mucus as a shelter, home, and breeding ground that kills.  So, wouldn't it follow, that a parent should, where practically applicable, attempt to limit or guard against the very bacteria that is known to take the life of those with Cystic Fibrosis?  To quote our CF pulmonologist,  "It's all about bacteria."  I realize it's everywhere!  But,  do we care if it comes from the air, dirt, mouth, shoes, pooh, toilet, hands, pool, steam room, jacuzzi, sole of our shoes.............?  Just because it has a funny sounding source should we downplay its potential affect?

For those of us with children that have yet to culture positive for pseudomonas why would anyone laugh, chuckle or find it humorous that a parent is attempting to safeguard her child from it?  Especially if the concern was first posed by her child's doctor?  Knowing that once that bacterial infection is introduced lung damage begins and life spans shorten, why would anyone scoff?

Now, I understand the veteran/rookie mentality that applies to just about every situation in life.  There is always someone who has been there and done that!  But, our child hasn't been culturing pseudomonas for even one day much less forty years.  I figure every day our child doesn't have this bacteria is one more day of health for him.  Why wouldn't I want that?

What toddler hasn't put on mama or daddy's shoes and paraded around the house?  My seven year old was wearing daddy's Texas-sized fourteen boots just two days ago and my little CFer wanted to do the same.  Toddlers lick and smell and test things with their fingers and mouths! Not that big of a deal to put those puppies in the closet and keep little hands out of them.   

We don't cut off our hands.  We wash and use hand sanitizer.   Years ago colleagues scoffed at  Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis for insisting that student physicians wash their hands after handling cadavers in anatomy class and before examining the mothers in the maternity ward.  At that time, women in the maternity ward died at a rate five times faster than those who delivered at home.  It would be fifty years before the practice of simple hand washing was seen as beneficial and Dr. Semmelweis's theory was confirmed by Louis Pasteur.

Seems the information on shoes, feet and bacteria is just one more piece of knowledge that might keep my little guy healthy a bit longer.  I am grateful for it.

Ah, this really all leads back to the whole mild and severe CF debate, doesn't it?  Well, I can say that I am uniquely situated smack-dab in between both of these worlds.  My mother, sixty-seven has just recently been diagnosed.  And, so has my three year old son.  My mother cultured nothing!  Praise God.  And my son has yet to culture anything as well.  However, I will not assume that his CF will follow my mother's path. 

I will say, that those with a cavalier attitude towards CF only have the privilege of such an attitude because they are still relatively well. Kinda like the man protesting a war and holding up a sign belittling America's involvement in war.  What a complete disconnect going on there!  The man only has the ability/freedom to hold the sign in protest because America recognized the threat and went to war in the first place!  The argument is based on a false assumption ~ that we can  always attain peace without war and so ultimately war is always unnecessary.  That is false.  Shall we not go to war in the hope that maybe the enemy will treat us okay and things won't turn out as badly as the experts think?  I tell you what, let's just drop all precautionary measures because we don't want anyone scoffing at us and perceiving us as paranoid.  Shall I only begin in battle once my child has cultured positive for the very bacteria that can take his life?  Or maybe, I should be so bold as to initiate in battle before the big guns are aimed at my child's lungs.  You know, by not letting him play with people's shoes?

Well, I'm not going to sit by while others tell me to relax.  I won't.  While I don't plan on us walking through life overly paranoid I will take practical every-day steps to protect the very ability/freedom our son now enjoys.  I won't invite the enemy to come play with my son, even if he shows up wearing our shoes!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Stepping Out

It's been a difficult week. I have days when I tend to let myself drift toward melancholy. I generally get irritated with this after a bit. I am just too pressed to tolerate it. But, at the same time part of me just needs to let it be for a bit. So.....the tension.

Regarding my sweet and salty one, well, I have begun to hear just the slightest bit of junk in his respiratory track. A clearing of the throat here, a small cough there. Just the slightest. I've noticed he wakes in the mornings a bit congested. For several months I sat squarely on the seat of denial. At first there was devastation. Then, with my mother's diagnosis there was hope. Actually, I suspected my mother's diagnosis way before it was official. I pressed to get it. To be honest, once I had a list of symptoms in front of me, I diagnosed them both. I remained guarded to the possibility of it taking a different route than hers. But, after several CF clinic visits, lots of internet research, and more understanding of the specifics regarding his mutations, I can see that I can't hide behind that false assurance any longer. It's kinda like stepping out from behind your daddy's pant leg. Still gripping tightly to the fabric, leaning way out, to see what's there. Trouble is, you can't see a thing.


Sunday, June 20, 2010

I've been drafted. Drafted into a war I barely knew existed.

I remember long ago hearing of a girl in my elementary school who had lung problems. I knew she had a disease and she missed a lot of school. I perceived sadness around her.

In adulthood I kissed our kiddos gauging their saltiness. I couldn't recall why this was important. I just knew it wasn't desirable and if they were to come up saltier than expected I'd bring that up to their doctor.

I would watch the local television commercials for home health care providers. Smiling toddlers wearing a contraption that shook them. I knew this had somehow replaced the claps to the back.

This information was distant and not anchored in my mind to anything. Just that stuff we somehow know and have absorbed over time.

And then, I was drafted into this war. And all those tidbits of information, disease, sadness, saltiness, toddlers wearing contraptions; well, all of those were now anchored, permanently to our youngest child.

The disease is called Cystic Fibrosis and I have been drafted into its war.

Like a young recruit I am not yet weary, angry or cynical from battle. Yet, I know those who have been drafted long before me can be. I can read about their loss and their anger on the net. And, I wonder, how long it will be before I sound like that? How long will it be until I call CF the enemy and curse it? Will I see it ravage our three year old like others I have read about? Or will CF live a quiet life like it has in my mother of sixty something years? What course will CF decide to take in our lives? Will it touch our other children as well?

Will I think things unthinkable about our God in anger and sorrow yet to come? Or will He give me His peace and increase my faith each step of the way so that I may bring glory to Him through this? Or, will I do both of these?

I sat with our sweet boy this week on the couch as his vest shook us both. We sat alone watching "Little Bill". Just the two of us in what is a very busy household. And that sadness I perceived in that little girl long ago settled on me. This is the way it was in the beginning with us. Just he and I, trusting the Lord, struggling to bring him into this world after weeks and weeks of bed rest. And, here we were again. Just us. There is something about a mama's heart for her children. A fierceness of love and devotion only the Lord can top. I know I will walk in this with him in a way others won't because I am his mother. And then, I know there may be the day when I won't be able to walk with him.

But, in that moment, I looked at him and smiled. I reached for that sweet head and planted a kiss there on his temple. So sweet and so salty. My dear boy and his sweet and salty kisses.

I have been drafted into the uncertainty that is CF.