Friday, June 27, 2008
Green Thumb Girl(s)
Well, my green thumb is more wannabe than actual, but, hey, I try! This year, I had a little helper too (hey, I can blame my pathetic looking flowers on ELLIE!)...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wisdom and Two Prayers
For the last while, I’ve really been focusing my prayers on wisdom. I feel SO unwise SO often in SO many facets of life.
(Of course, when you’re wise, do you KNOW you’re wise? Or, as a sweet friend once said, “When you’re a stalker, do you KNOW you’re a stalker?")
I wish I were wise in all areas of my life, but I especially desire wisdom when it comes to decision-making for my precious Ellie. I’ve often thought that it was crazily ironic that I, the most unscientific, non-medical person EVER, was placed in the position of co-Healthcare Decider Extraordinaire.
Oh, I research. I try to read the papers published by medical doctors, deciphering every tenth word. But, I am nowhere near trained, and every time I walk into a doctor’s office with Ellie, I feel overwhelmed and undereducated.
So, I pray. And trust. And beg God to impart wisdom to both Richard and me. Beg Him to lead us in our decision-making. Beseech Him to guide us, and lead us to medical professionals who are honest and worth following.
As we left for Winnipeg this morning, I prayed.
Give us wisdom, Lord. Place us in the right room with the right doctor. Allow our hearts to be overcome with peace if we’re to trust Dr. McPherson. Give us wisdom. Give us wisdom.
Of course, there’s a little dark part of my soul that changed the words to the prayer:
Lord, let the words that come out of Dr. McPherson’s mouth be exactly what I want to hear. Lead him to write our coveted insurance letter and to shower us with praise for Ellie’s abilities. Please direct him to verbalize his 100% support of the SDR surgery.
Oh, Chrystie of little faith…
Did Dr. McPherson respond the way my selfish side wanted? No. Did I leave his office with a peaceful heart? Absolutely, without hesitation, yes.
While listening to Dr. McPherson honestly answer our pressing questions about SDR, I could literally feel my heart fill with peace. He is trustworthy. When I asked him, “What would you do if Ellie was YOUR daughter?” I was completely confident that he would answer with whole sincerity.
Even if the answer wasn’t what I was hoping for.
Dr. McPherson spent a long time talking to us in his office, and although he didn’t completely discourage the surgery, he was very cautious in recommending it. He said that he hadn’t seen “amazing” results post-SDR, and he wondered if perhaps pursuing a different avenue (specifically, a intrathecal baclofen pump) might be a better solution. He seemed to indicate that SDR wasn’t as popular as it used to be, because many CP specialists were questioning the risk versus gain.
That said, Dr. McPherson admitted that he felt somewhat under qualified to advise us for or against SDR, so he referred us to a local neurosurgeon (who doesn’t perform SDR himself, but has many CP patients who have had it done, and is a part of the neurosurgery clique). We should have an appointment with the neurosurgeon by the end of summer.
Allow our hearts to be overcome with peace if we’re to trust Dr. McPherson.
My heart is peaceful. We left Dr. McPherson’s without concrete answers, without an insurance letter, and without a definitive response. But, I smiled all the way home. We have a doctor who is trustworthy, and that trustworthy doctor has referred us to someone HE thinks is trustworthy. God is guiding us to the right people, just as He’ll give us wisdom as we make medical decisions for Ellie.
We have an all-day appointment in Minneapolis on Monday, and I will be on my knees once again. Except, this time, I think I’ll omit the “in the back of my mind” prayer. I’m convinced that God will place medical professionals in our lives for a reason. If Ellie is supposed to be an SDR-girl, then He will lead us to the right doctors. If we’re supposed to pursue a different medical avenue for Ellie, He’ll place in our path trustworthy doctors who advise against SDR.
Perhaps allowing myself to have faith in God’s direction is how I’m wise today.
(Of course, when you’re wise, do you KNOW you’re wise? Or, as a sweet friend once said, “When you’re a stalker, do you KNOW you’re a stalker?")
I wish I were wise in all areas of my life, but I especially desire wisdom when it comes to decision-making for my precious Ellie. I’ve often thought that it was crazily ironic that I, the most unscientific, non-medical person EVER, was placed in the position of co-Healthcare Decider Extraordinaire.
Oh, I research. I try to read the papers published by medical doctors, deciphering every tenth word. But, I am nowhere near trained, and every time I walk into a doctor’s office with Ellie, I feel overwhelmed and undereducated.
So, I pray. And trust. And beg God to impart wisdom to both Richard and me. Beg Him to lead us in our decision-making. Beseech Him to guide us, and lead us to medical professionals who are honest and worth following.
As we left for Winnipeg this morning, I prayed.
Give us wisdom, Lord. Place us in the right room with the right doctor. Allow our hearts to be overcome with peace if we’re to trust Dr. McPherson. Give us wisdom. Give us wisdom.
Of course, there’s a little dark part of my soul that changed the words to the prayer:
Lord, let the words that come out of Dr. McPherson’s mouth be exactly what I want to hear. Lead him to write our coveted insurance letter and to shower us with praise for Ellie’s abilities. Please direct him to verbalize his 100% support of the SDR surgery.
Oh, Chrystie of little faith…
Did Dr. McPherson respond the way my selfish side wanted? No. Did I leave his office with a peaceful heart? Absolutely, without hesitation, yes.
While listening to Dr. McPherson honestly answer our pressing questions about SDR, I could literally feel my heart fill with peace. He is trustworthy. When I asked him, “What would you do if Ellie was YOUR daughter?” I was completely confident that he would answer with whole sincerity.
Even if the answer wasn’t what I was hoping for.
Dr. McPherson spent a long time talking to us in his office, and although he didn’t completely discourage the surgery, he was very cautious in recommending it. He said that he hadn’t seen “amazing” results post-SDR, and he wondered if perhaps pursuing a different avenue (specifically, a intrathecal baclofen pump) might be a better solution. He seemed to indicate that SDR wasn’t as popular as it used to be, because many CP specialists were questioning the risk versus gain.
That said, Dr. McPherson admitted that he felt somewhat under qualified to advise us for or against SDR, so he referred us to a local neurosurgeon (who doesn’t perform SDR himself, but has many CP patients who have had it done, and is a part of the neurosurgery clique). We should have an appointment with the neurosurgeon by the end of summer.
Allow our hearts to be overcome with peace if we’re to trust Dr. McPherson.
My heart is peaceful. We left Dr. McPherson’s without concrete answers, without an insurance letter, and without a definitive response. But, I smiled all the way home. We have a doctor who is trustworthy, and that trustworthy doctor has referred us to someone HE thinks is trustworthy. God is guiding us to the right people, just as He’ll give us wisdom as we make medical decisions for Ellie.
We have an all-day appointment in Minneapolis on Monday, and I will be on my knees once again. Except, this time, I think I’ll omit the “in the back of my mind” prayer. I’m convinced that God will place medical professionals in our lives for a reason. If Ellie is supposed to be an SDR-girl, then He will lead us to the right doctors. If we’re supposed to pursue a different medical avenue for Ellie, He’ll place in our path trustworthy doctors who advise against SDR.
Perhaps allowing myself to have faith in God’s direction is how I’m wise today.
Quickee Prayer Request
Not only have I been a huge-o blog-writing slacker, but now I’m going to petition some last-minute prayers. Oh the audacity!
But, look at this precious face, and tell me that you can resist praying for this sweet thang:
Ellie has an appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon in Winnipeg today. This is a BIG one, because we’re going to beg without shame ( hands-and-knees and foot-kissing is definitely on the table) for the doctor to write a letter to our health insurance, requesting funding for the SDR surgery in St. Louis.
We will NOT receive any insurance money for the surgery if we don’t have a doctor write a petition to the health insurance board, so the first prayer request is that Dr. McPherson agree that the surgery is needed, and will advocate for us.
Assuming this happens, the next big prayer, of course, is that the health insurance board will accept the request and provide some funding for the surgery. It COULD be up to 75% of all costs (equalling $30,000, so a huge chunk o’ change!).
In a nutshell, PRAY!
We will also be seeing Dr. McPherson’s physical therapist during the appointment, allowing us the opportunity to talk about any sort of equipment needs we might have. I think that today might be the day we bring up the “w” word. Wheelchair. Gulp.
The mere thought of asking for “Ellie’s wheelchair” brings tears to my eyes, so if you’re already on your spiritual knees, maybe throw a quick prayer for mommy-strength today too. These appointments are never easy, and they often put a pit in my stomach.
I’ll update tonight!
But, look at this precious face, and tell me that you can resist praying for this sweet thang:
Ellie has an appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon in Winnipeg today. This is a BIG one, because we’re going to beg without shame ( hands-and-knees and foot-kissing is definitely on the table) for the doctor to write a letter to our health insurance, requesting funding for the SDR surgery in St. Louis.
We will NOT receive any insurance money for the surgery if we don’t have a doctor write a petition to the health insurance board, so the first prayer request is that Dr. McPherson agree that the surgery is needed, and will advocate for us.
Assuming this happens, the next big prayer, of course, is that the health insurance board will accept the request and provide some funding for the surgery. It COULD be up to 75% of all costs (equalling $30,000, so a huge chunk o’ change!).
In a nutshell, PRAY!
We will also be seeing Dr. McPherson’s physical therapist during the appointment, allowing us the opportunity to talk about any sort of equipment needs we might have. I think that today might be the day we bring up the “w” word. Wheelchair. Gulp.
The mere thought of asking for “Ellie’s wheelchair” brings tears to my eyes, so if you’re already on your spiritual knees, maybe throw a quick prayer for mommy-strength today too. These appointments are never easy, and they often put a pit in my stomach.
I’ll update tonight!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Cat In the Hat
...or Hat on the Potty!
Ellie INSISTED that she wear her hat during potty-time, and well, how you could let that cuteness go unphotographed?!
(By the way, since we're on the "topic", and you're probably wondering, the potty training is going really well. We haven't dared putting her in underwear yet, but she's definitely going consistently on the potty (and in her diaper, which is why we haven't crossed the undies-threshold), which is great! I am thoroughly convinced that Miss Ellie will be fully potty trained by the time she enters kindergarten, which has always been my fervent prayer and major concern. She is truly a rockstar!)
Ellie INSISTED that she wear her hat during potty-time, and well, how you could let that cuteness go unphotographed?!
(By the way, since we're on the "topic", and you're probably wondering, the potty training is going really well. We haven't dared putting her in underwear yet, but she's definitely going consistently on the potty (and in her diaper, which is why we haven't crossed the undies-threshold), which is great! I am thoroughly convinced that Miss Ellie will be fully potty trained by the time she enters kindergarten, which has always been my fervent prayer and major concern. She is truly a rockstar!)
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Dreamland
We attended an absolutely stunning wedding over the weekend. My beautiful cousin married her high school sweetheart and the celebration was beyond fabulous. My sweet cousin’s dad (my uncle) passed away when she was 16, so she asked my Grandpa to walk her down the aisle. It was so very touching, and our hearts were flooded with emotion as she took each graceful step toward the alter.
And then it happened.
I allowed myself to go to that place. The place that has been sectioned off with yellow tape for a long, long time. The place that causes my head to spin, my heart to hope, and my eyes to fill with tears.
That place. The place called DREAMLAND.
I started to think about Ellie’s wedding day; how there wouldn’t be a dry eye in the church, as she held on to Richard’s arm with one hand, and her steadying cane with the other. How each step, no matter how laborious, would send a new tear running down each face. How all-consuming my joy would be, to know that my sweet angel had found love. How all the years of never-ending doctor’s appointments and therapy sessions, of wondering and questioning, of tears and anguish, would be swept away by her flowing, white train.
Dreamland is a scary place. There are demons standing at the door, luring you in with warm fuzzies and hopefulness. Then, as soon as you enter, they laugh wickedly behind your back, anticipating the fall you’re about to take. The sweeter the dream, the harder the fall. And they know, always, that Ellie-dreams are my weakness.
They know that I would give my life to see the Ellie-dreams fulfilled. Without hesitation, I would give my life to make that image of Bride-Ellie a reality.
As my cousin’s wedding ceremony continued, and the pastor (the same one who married Richard and me) read from the Bible, I slowly inched my way out the back door of Dreamland. Perhaps the demons missed my exit, because, shockingly, it was rather quiet and painless.
I thought about all the work associated with weddings, and realized that it would be okay to never wear the “Mother of the Bride” name tag. I thought about how, after paying therapy, surgery and doctor’s bills for the next twenty years, there’d be no money left to pay for Ellie’s wedding anyway. I laughed in the face of the Dreamland gatekeepers, because cynicism is a weapon they cannot shield. And, my stock of cynical ammunition never runs dry.
Later that night, after the festivities were over, and my tired feet were under the covers of my luxurious, worth-every-stinkin-penny blanket, I lay still in the quiet. I thought about the image of Ellie in her wedding gown, and before I could reach for a weapon, God stepped in. Cynicism doesn’t work with God. Anger, and hopelessness and “Why me?” and “Why Ellie?”s don’t work with God. He sees through it all, and knows that I dream and hope for Ellie because I love her. As much as I love Ellie, He loves her even more. Nearly unfathomable, but true.
Although I felt God nudging me into HIS Dreamland, void of demonic doormen, I hesitated. I wanted Him to give me a sign that this dreaming wasn’t in vain. I wanted Him to reassure me that Ellie would have the mental capacity to fall in love. I wanted Him to promise that she would WALK down the aisle, either as a bride or a bridesmaid, one day.
He didn’t. There were no signs, no promises.
There was, however, reassurance. Affirmation that I’ll be able to handle Ellie’s future. A guarantee that He would be holding both our hands as we travel down this path of uncertainty.
I’m sure my heart-tears stained that virtual wedding dress. I’m sure that my adversaries in Dreamland are eagerly anticipating my return. But, as I turned over and rested my cheek against my soft pillow, I felt okay. And maybe even a little bit stronger. I entered Dreamland, spent a few blissful minutes there, exited quietly, and returned nearly wound-less. Maybe I can go there more often. Maybe.
And then it happened.
I allowed myself to go to that place. The place that has been sectioned off with yellow tape for a long, long time. The place that causes my head to spin, my heart to hope, and my eyes to fill with tears.
That place. The place called DREAMLAND.
I started to think about Ellie’s wedding day; how there wouldn’t be a dry eye in the church, as she held on to Richard’s arm with one hand, and her steadying cane with the other. How each step, no matter how laborious, would send a new tear running down each face. How all-consuming my joy would be, to know that my sweet angel had found love. How all the years of never-ending doctor’s appointments and therapy sessions, of wondering and questioning, of tears and anguish, would be swept away by her flowing, white train.
Dreamland is a scary place. There are demons standing at the door, luring you in with warm fuzzies and hopefulness. Then, as soon as you enter, they laugh wickedly behind your back, anticipating the fall you’re about to take. The sweeter the dream, the harder the fall. And they know, always, that Ellie-dreams are my weakness.
They know that I would give my life to see the Ellie-dreams fulfilled. Without hesitation, I would give my life to make that image of Bride-Ellie a reality.
As my cousin’s wedding ceremony continued, and the pastor (the same one who married Richard and me) read from the Bible, I slowly inched my way out the back door of Dreamland. Perhaps the demons missed my exit, because, shockingly, it was rather quiet and painless.
I thought about all the work associated with weddings, and realized that it would be okay to never wear the “Mother of the Bride” name tag. I thought about how, after paying therapy, surgery and doctor’s bills for the next twenty years, there’d be no money left to pay for Ellie’s wedding anyway. I laughed in the face of the Dreamland gatekeepers, because cynicism is a weapon they cannot shield. And, my stock of cynical ammunition never runs dry.
Later that night, after the festivities were over, and my tired feet were under the covers of my luxurious, worth-every-stinkin-penny blanket, I lay still in the quiet. I thought about the image of Ellie in her wedding gown, and before I could reach for a weapon, God stepped in. Cynicism doesn’t work with God. Anger, and hopelessness and “Why me?” and “Why Ellie?”s don’t work with God. He sees through it all, and knows that I dream and hope for Ellie because I love her. As much as I love Ellie, He loves her even more. Nearly unfathomable, but true.
Although I felt God nudging me into HIS Dreamland, void of demonic doormen, I hesitated. I wanted Him to give me a sign that this dreaming wasn’t in vain. I wanted Him to reassure me that Ellie would have the mental capacity to fall in love. I wanted Him to promise that she would WALK down the aisle, either as a bride or a bridesmaid, one day.
He didn’t. There were no signs, no promises.
There was, however, reassurance. Affirmation that I’ll be able to handle Ellie’s future. A guarantee that He would be holding both our hands as we travel down this path of uncertainty.
I’m sure my heart-tears stained that virtual wedding dress. I’m sure that my adversaries in Dreamland are eagerly anticipating my return. But, as I turned over and rested my cheek against my soft pillow, I felt okay. And maybe even a little bit stronger. I entered Dreamland, spent a few blissful minutes there, exited quietly, and returned nearly wound-less. Maybe I can go there more often. Maybe.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Tangled Web
Oh baby, I'm so tired.
I've been really busy lately. All good things, with weddings, and gatherings and youth group wind-ups, and specialist's appointments, and extra therapy. But, a lot of good things can be a bad idea.
So, excuse my blogging neglect. I've posted extra pictures as a bit of an apology!
Give me a good night's sleep (hopefully tonight!), and I'll be back to my emotional rollercoaster writer self...promise!
I've been really busy lately. All good things, with weddings, and gatherings and youth group wind-ups, and specialist's appointments, and extra therapy. But, a lot of good things can be a bad idea.
So, excuse my blogging neglect. I've posted extra pictures as a bit of an apology!
Give me a good night's sleep (hopefully tonight!), and I'll be back to my emotional rollercoaster writer self...promise!
Walk About
We got a new walker for Ellie a few weeks ago. It's so much better than the other one! It's still very slow going, and the scissoring of her legs continues to be a major problem, BUT, every step is a miracle, so we'll take what we can get. The SDR surgery is supposed to make a considerable difference in the scissoring, so I'm really hopeful that this walker will be crashing into all sorts of walls at our house sometime next year!
And one with Ellie using the walker with her fantabulous physical therapist:
Sunday, June 8, 2008
For Your Viewing Pleasure
The rarest of rare "family photo". Big wedding yesterday with many a camera in tow!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Hangin' Out With the Fam
I've got a pretty crazy family. I'm sure that Richard would say, "LITERALLY crazy." A year after I was born, my parents built a house on the same yard as my grandparents. My other Aunt and Uncles all lived within a mile of "the homestead". To say we're a close brood is a bit of an understatement.
These crazies are one of the reasons why we're back here in Canada. I wanted Ellie to experience the unconditional love and acceptance of a big family. I wanted her to play with her cousins in the same sandbox *I* played in (different sand, same sandbox).
As suspected, she LOVES it. And I love seeing her love it.
These crazies are one of the reasons why we're back here in Canada. I wanted Ellie to experience the unconditional love and acceptance of a big family. I wanted her to play with her cousins in the same sandbox *I* played in (different sand, same sandbox).
As suspected, she LOVES it. And I love seeing her love it.
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