This time of year seems to be a very melancholy, introspective one for me. Last year I thought it was because it was full of all of the first "last times" - a year since I taught my kids, a year since I got sick, a year since I was able to hike, a year since I walked independently, a year since I became dependent on a wheelchair, a year since I lost so much. Apparently those anniversaries are just as powerful the second year as the first because I started to get into a funk as October began, and it was the beginning of October when I really started getting sick two years ago. I feel the old emotions creeping back in - the frustration, the anger at my body for betraying me when I had everything I had ever wanted in life (a job teaching special education, awesome friends, and was ironically the healthiest I had ever been before this happened with hiking and teaching all day and doing yoga), the aching longing to have all of the unanswered questions answered and to give this monster a name so I can call it out into the light, the grief for what I lost. Now it sounds like I am sitting around feeling sorry for myself and that is absolutely not the case, but when I least expect it I find these old feelings creeping around again when I thought they were long gone. I guess there is a season to everything and this is my season to mourn. Soon enough it will be my season to dance and celebrate and be joyful. Even in the mourning I am thankful, for in order to feel loss I had to have had some incredible experiences and opportunities and I am forever thankful for them and for the life I have been given. Considering I was never supposed to live beyond my first birthday, every day is borrowed bonus time.
I have another entry that I want to write soon, but this is what came out when I sat down to type so I am going to go with it for tonight and save the other for another day this week. This is more real to what I am experiencing now, a real image of the fact that there are still seasons of mourning two years out and probably ten or twenty years out just as there are seasons of celebration and seasons of joy and season of dancing.

* photo courtesy of iStock Photo

I am officially moved into my new apartment that I am sharing with my mother, and the apartment is awesome. However, moving is perhaps one of the most frustrating and exhausting processes on earth. We have boxes stacked in every room in the apartment except the bathroom, and our goal is to have everything unpacked and put away and organized by Christmas. What is scary to think about is the fact that I could literally throw away every single box I have that is still packed, and other than missing my journals, I  would have every single thing I *need* and could replace anything else easily. Needless to say, as I unpack I am very carefully sorting through items and either donating or throwing away any items I have not used in the past 4-6 months. Possessions have never been a big deal for me, and I am driven in life by making memories and interacting with others, not with acquiring things. I am actually most happy when I have just the basics that I need and a few wants.
So when we moved into the apartment we apparently forgot to make some sacrificial offering to the toilet gods because on the second day the toilet made a strange sound and then proceeded to do a very realistic impersonation of Old Faithful. Water was not running over the edge, it was erupting from the toilet. Before I remembered the wall shut off valve it had flooded not just the bathroom but the entire hallway. Maintenance showed up 30 minutes after we called carrying nothing more than a plunger. Um, Dude, we're gonna need a bigger boat. An hour later, the toilet is precariously "fixed" and he has made an attempt at the flood with a wet dry vac and we go to bed with fans blowing in the hallway to dry the carpet. I am especially thankful that I choose to get carpet without padding to make it easier to maneuver my wheelchair because that makes this mess a lot less of an issue. Three days later I have prayed over the toilet and flushed it, and it is refilling when I hear a sound that I can only describe as the sound one would expect to hear if the bowels of the earth opened up and proceeded to suck down Niagra Falls as the toiled completely drained of water. Apparently somewhere along the six stories of pipe there was an obstruction, and that god awful sound was the sound of it breaking away. Either that or the toilet gods decided we had paid our dues and removed the curse. I still pray before I flush the toilet and try not to get too close to it unless necessary.
Amidst the chaos of moving I also had my follow up appointment for the Botox injections to determine how well the first round of injections had worked and plan for what the next round will target and such. It was a very short appointment, which frustrated me as I drove 90 minutes each way just to talk to the doctor for 5 minutes - no exam even. I am getting new braces made as my old ones never fit right and now totally do not fit right since I have achieved a more normal position and the ability to have my legs positioned and held in even more normal positions. This time I am getting KAFOs, or Knee Ankle Foot Orthotics, because when I stand and walk I lock all of my joints for stability. The problem with this is that I have joint hypermobility and to lock my knees I actually hyper-extend them which is causing pain and throwing me even further off balance. So the KAFOs will provide the locked knee support without allowing me to hyper extend my knees.
Right now I am temporarily set up with the internet running from the main phone line in the middle of the living room because the phone guy failed to install phone service in all of the rooms of the house when he came out, and the soonest they can come back out is Tuesday. So my internet access is still limited as it is a hassle to finagle it out here. Which is okay because I have not been feeling up to doing much more than working with my mom on a box or two a day and then resting. I don't know if I have some sort of infection or if the dysautonomia is just warning me that I have been pushing too hard for too long.
I will try to update from the box piles again soon, for all three people reading this LOL :)

just moved and hooking up computer is low priority compared to mountains of boxes so will be offline for a while.

Two weeks. The magical number for maximum effects from the Botox injections in my legs to be seen. I still have a large bruise from one of the injections that apparently went awry, but it is slowly fading from angry blue black to shades of purple and yellow-green. So how much can change in two weeks? Well, a lot. The spasticity in my legs is reduced and my feet at rest are much closer to a natural, neutral position. When I wear my braces it is no longer a wrestling match to try to get my feet into them and I can stand with my feet facing forward for short periods of time (before the knee and hip rotation kicks in and turns them). My feet are the closest to being flat on the ground that they have been in almost 2 years. Toes are unchanged, which means they are still curled tightly under and unable to be straightened. But perhaps next time with the injections on the bottoms of my feet (yikes!) we can get my feet fully flat and my toes to relax some. It is hard to tell how much is permanent contractures and how much is still just spasticity in the toes. Side effects were not too bad, but I do have increased weakness in my legs and have to be very careful when doing any weight bearing that I am safely supported and when in my wheelchair I still must use the straps on my footrests to hold my legs in proper alignment. Other than that, I felt kind of generally yucky for a day or two (could have been an autonomic response to the trauma of the multiple injections) and bruised and that was it. Definitely worth the short term pain for the longer term gains!!!
Just in an unrelated note, the Dysautonomia has been kicking my butt recently and I am currently living on soggy cheerios and green tea and Zofran and headache meds and muscle meds and BP meds and sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.

On Wednesday I had my first appointment for Botox injections. I knew just enough going in to be dangerous to myself, but not enough to be well informed and relaxed. Almost all of my information came from my experiences as a special education teacher, so it was framed through the pediatric framework. Knowing that this is a process done under anesthesia for children, I was a bit anxious about how much it would hurt. The reason it is done under anesthesia for children is their difficulty remaining still and the trauma of multiple injections into the muscles. Using the EMG machine with two electrodes and a special needle, the doctor targeted specific muscles in my lower legs that are responsible for rotating my feet inward and pushing them downward. I received somewhere between six and ten injections per leg with a small dose given per injection. I remained seated in my wheelchair for the process and simply removed my braces and socks. I was pleasantly and delightfully shocked by how much less it hurt than I had anticipated. I was all ready and prepared to swear creatively, since Mythbusters demonstrated that swearing increases pain tolerance by 30%, but I never even needed an old fashioned "Ouch!"!! Not that I am saying it was particularly fun, but it was no where near the pain I expected. One injection did cause significant bleeding and a large bruise formed with a golf ball sized lump underneath, so it looks like I am trying to shoplift from a golf pro shop via a hidden pouch in my leg. My legs are sore and achy, but nothing more than I would feel after expending myself too much and overworking the muscles. I go back in four weeks to have the doctor assess the impact of the Botox injections, and then in 13 weeks for the next round of injections. Based on the muscles response during the injections, the doctor thinks next time he will need to inject the bottom of my feet to attain the best possible results and get any results from my toes. According to our conversation, those particular injections "hurt like hell" so I am sure it will be an adventure. I did point out to the doctor that none of this hurts him, and he was quick to point out that if he feels any pain during the procedure something has gone wrong. I have two words buddy - voodoo doll LOL :) So now I wait - for the bruise to go away, for the aches to go away, for the results to begin to appear (any time within the next 2 weeks I should see the effects). Just the fact that this offers a chance to get relief from the tight muscles and the twisted feet makes it worth the experience, let alone if it actually works!!

Tomorrow is my twenty ninth birthday, a birthday that twenty nine years ago every specialist at Children's Hospital agreed that I would never live to see. They had such little faith that I would survive to see my first birthday that they encouraged my parents to leave me at the hospital to be cared for until my death and go home to have another healthy child. I am forever thankful that my mother and father, facing those circumstances, refused to give up on me. I am forever thankful that God had far greater plans than those doctors could see, plans that have included a life rich in treasures and adventures and the joy of loving others and being loved. I am thankful for the wisdom of twenty nine years, and sometimes what seems like a lifetime more, and the opportunity to be educated by some of the most amazing children God ever created. I am thankful for learning early in life to live in each moment and to take nothing for granted. I am thankful that I also learned early the true measures of wealth in a life, and that none involve dollars and cents. I am thankful for my abundant blessings and for another year to live, to laugh, to cry, to share, to dream, to hope, to pray, to make memories, to grow, to learn, to love.

It has been a while since I have posted anything. Most people hibernate in the winter, and living in the great frigid north I am not opposed to that tradition in any way. However, thanks to the failure of my body to regulate temperature, I also have to hibernate inside with the blessing of air conditioning on summer days that are too hot. This summer has been unusually hot and humid, meaning that my ability to get out and do anything has been greatly limited. Add in the total lack of access to transportation unless someone decides to take me somewhere and I am a house hermit. But not for long. So long as everything works out as it should, in just over a month I will be moving in with my mom to a two bedroom handicap accessible apartment that is in the bigger town with a fully accessible public transportation system that allows me to be independent and go wherever I want whenever I want. I will also be able to get my wheelchair into the bathroom (bonus!), and turn around in the bedroom (double bonus!!). It may seem like I am losing independence by moving back in with my mom, but I am gaining so much more independence by having access to freedom. I can go to coffee shops to read and hang out, to the store when I want to, to the YMCA to go swimming in their handicap accessible pool, and so much more. I can reach counters in the kitchen and prepare food. I can get in and out without struggling with a less than safe ramp. So prayers that this goes through without any difficulties would be greatly appreciated!!
In other news, I spent Wednesday hanging out with my favorite almost 6 year old, my niece Little Bit. I certainly will not be able to call her that for much longer as she is growing like a weed fed Miracle Gro! I am absolutely in love with her openness to the world and the fact that she is neither embarrassed nor afraid of my health changes. When she has a question, she asks it without hesitation. "Why do you wear gloves to push your wheelchair?" "Why are your legs like that when you walk?" "Does it hurt?" She climbed all over my wheelchair to explore it (again, she is fascinated with it) and even gave one of the family cats (who deserves kitty sainthood) a short ride. She helped push me up a steep ramp so I could watch her swim lessons and then ran with me as I coasted down the steep ramp afterward and laughed at how much fun it was to go so fast. She is so matter of fact and accepting and I love her view of life and the world. My Little Bit is growing up and recently lost two of her baby teeth. My brother, the tough paramedic, can not handle loose teeth and was totally freaked out by the process but Bit is very proud. She is very fair when it comes to gender, stating that the tooth fairy can be a boy or a girl, and she has no clue what he or she does with all those teeth. Apparently age 12 is when you officially become too cool for family, because my other niece and my nephew are both now too cool to spend time with family although I give my soon to be 14 yr old nephew a lot of credit. He had a friend over and very nicely introduced him to me, and then a few minutes later came out to the living room and asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink. Without any prompting from an adult! He really is a great kid/young man.
My Botox injections were postponed from Wednesday to two weeks from Wednesday due to some meeting that came up at the last minute that the doctor had to attend. I just want to get them over with (I am tired of considering just how much this might hurt) and see if I get any benefits from them. I am benefiting from the most recent changes in medication, although it needs to be adjusted somewhat again.
In stomach news, I am still stuck at pureed "stage 3" baby food level. I was so excited to find out I was able to eat a package of mini muffins without smooshing them with milk because they were so super soft, only to discover through a horrendous stomach ache and other GI issues that they were saturated with oil and I can not process that right now. I also had a horrid reaction to broccoli baby food mixed with mashed potatoes. I am getting somewhat used to the stomach pain, and have down the exact combination of meds to take when it hurts versus when I am severely nauseous versus when it both hurts and I am severely nauseous. Too bad my insurance company rations my Zofran (antinausea medicine) to 48 pills per month, even though I receive a generic. I am allergic to Phenergan, and Compazine proved useless the first go round with this so I am rather stuck. I also use Reglan up to 4 times per day. I need to see if my GI doctor has any ideas of other combos or meds we can try or add for nausea that my insurance might cover. I hate having to choose to feel sick many times because I need to save the meds for when I feel really, really sick.
Other than that, nothing much is happening. I will definitely try to update more often although I think there are maybe 2 people who even read this. Oh well, I write for myself as much as for anyone else although it would be nice to someday help someone else in my situation or a similar one out. I have been awake 4 whole hours which means it must be nap time! :)