near miss

The sickening thud that results from a child on an uncontrolled trajectory that ends in collision with a hard surface is one of those unmistakable sounds that every parent probably hears at least once never wants to.

In the moments that follow such a calamity, there are questions coming rapid-fire.  Is she hurt?  Is she OK?  Is something broken?  Should we take her for x-rays? 

Please, Lord.  Grant me wisdom to know how to handle this situation.  And please hold me together so I can help her.  

I like to think that I'm pretty good under pressure at such times, but I know I'm toeing the line when one of my bambini is injured.  For example, the two-year-old lass took a spill off a window seat cushion this afternoon in the midst of an otherwise delightful afternoon of happy family fun time.  After that terrible sound, there came the cries of a little girl in pain.  She held her arm tightly against her side.  She had landed on it, and right away the area around her elbow began to turn purple.

I went running for some ice and Arnica Montana, a homeopathic remedy indicated for bruises, muscle soreness, and traumatic injuries that we keep on hand.  We refer to it as "bonk medicine".  We scooped her up and snuggled her close.  My beloved -- aka "Dr. Dad" -- fashioned a sling out of a tea towel and tucked some ice and a baby doll inside.  She could still move her arm without much pain, but we still worried and wondered.

After a little downtime she was back up and playing, using the arm with little noticeable difficulty.  She seems to be doing OK.  We'll of course keep an eye on it.

There have been a few other times when one of the bambini has been injured when I really wrestled to discern the need to seek emergency medical attention on their behalf.  (The younger lad can claim most of these.) After the dust had settled in each case, as I did today, I can't help but conjure up images in my mind of how that would play out, and it's never a good feeling.  What if it had been worse?  Oh, how I can work myself up over such uncertainties.

Scary though it may be to think about, there is little good to come out of fretting about things that haven't happened.  It's important to be prepared, because accidents happen.  We can take every reasonable precaution to secure our bambini's safety, but we can't keep them from ever getting hurt.

So I tell myself when I'm not holding a child in pain after falling just out of my arm's reach doing something she's done a thousand times before and likely will many more times to come.

Perhaps the day will come when we will need to summon help for some medical crisis.  God forbid something like that should happen, but if it does, I pray for the courage to be the strong mother the hurting child will depend on to secure that medical care as well as offer the comfort that only comes from Dr. Mom.

not-so-fun Fridays

We've spent these past three Fridays (and a few other days too in this same time frame) in a doctor's office or urgent care setting -- not for anything especially urgent, though.  The six of us have all fallen prey to The Sniffles over the past ten days or so, with resulting ear infections for some.  Others of us have had brushes with other infections that required immediate attention so as to not develop into something more serious.  Though we are collectively improving, some of us are still rather like faucets (including Mama and the raven-haired lass).

So much sniffling and time spent in doctors' offices has worn Mama down, but considering the relatively minor ailments afflicting us, I am filled with humility and gratitude for our overall good health.  We're redoubling our hand-washing efforts and stocking up our apothecary shop with probiotics, vitamins, and natural remedies like cranberry juice in an effort to restore us to vitality and its accompanying vim and vigor (or something like that).

But for now, here's hoping to catch up on some sleep...

somber yet hopeful

My heart is heavy thinking about two families for whom today must be uniquely grueling.  One of them buries their fifty-something husband and father after he passed away suddenly.  I knew him at the university parish, where his funeral Mass will be celebrated this morning.  He was ordained a deacon and served both that community and the larger one with humor, humility, and great generosity.  One of his sons was in high school at the time and played with our "rough and tumble band of misfits" (as I called us) -- a motley crew of talented musicians majoring in a variety of academic disciplines that played for the Sunday evening student Mass: this pianist, a few guitarists, an array of woodwinds and brass, and a few singers.  This son married a girl from my hometown a few years younger than me whose mother played the piano at my home parish growing up and has long been a source of encouragement for me in my development as a musician.

The other family prays and waits for their twenty-something daughter undergoing surgery today to remove a malignant brain tumor.  She is a few years younger than I am, and a friendly acquaintance from my hometown.  With a magnetic personality, dazzling smile, and penchant for bringing laughter and levity to nearly any situation, this young woman is facing this formidable challenge with deep faith in God and a huge legion of supporters.  She is being treated at the same hospital that cared for my friend Jake and all he went through.  I can't help but think of him in reading her story.  I'm sure they would really hit it off if they ever knew each other.

I can't fully understand what each of these families -- and so many others who know grief, uncertainty, and suffering today -- is going through. I can only pray for them, that they may know profound peace, comfort, and strength.  I know Christ is present in their struggles and will remain with them.  Please keep them all in your prayers.

tough questions

This one posed by the elder lad caught us (more than) a little off guard: "What's cancer?"

My first internal reaction was Where did that come from?  Mercifully, this is not something with which we are contending presently such that we would even be discussing the topic.  When we asked him where he'd heard about it, he didn't answer.  I hope our simple explanation that cancer is a disease that sometimes can and sometimes can't be cured was satisfactory to him.

On the heels of that initial response, my thoughts turned to those families -- including very young children -- for whom cancer and other life-threatening and altering diseases are a defining reality of their daily lives.  Our health is such an precious gift. 

So for these families, I pray God's mercy be upon them.  If it be his will, may those afflicted with such maladies be healed.  And whatever his will, may his grace infuse every aspect of suffering experienced by those touched by disease of any kind -- those going through it themselves and the people who love and care for them.

apothecary shop

Allergy season is really giving us -- like so many others -- some trouble around here.  To show for it, we have a veritable apothecary of over-the-counter and prescription medicines, supplements like probiotics to help offset the tummy-upsetting effects of antibiotics, and vitamins.  One lad is on antibiotics to treat an ear infection that resulted from his allergy flare up, the other lad has an antibiotic eye drop to clear up an infection in his eye that seems to have developed from his allergies, and all three bambini now take an over-the-counter allergy remedy each night before bed.  This is in addition to the vitamins they take to maintain general health.

To keep all this straight, I've made a list of what each child is taking, how frequently, how much, and for how long, and we make tick marks on either the bottle of antibiotics or a piece of paper each time prescriptions are dispensed.  The organizer in me wants to make a chart for a more visually-enhanced experience.  I wonder if that might be overdoing it.  Probably not.

Having been through two stints of allergy shots myself and experiencing great improvement in my seasonal allergy suffering, I am no stranger to the allergy scene.  The shots helped, though, and I have been off allergy medication entirely for several years.  We live in one of the "allergy capitals" of the country, and this year is one of the worst seasons by way of pollen counts and their effects on allergies. Fresh off antibiotics myself to clear up a sinus infection, now I've got a similar eye ailment affecting the younger lad.  My beloved is also feeling the effects of the proliferation of allergens.

Whenever possible, we try to heal ailments with natural remedies such as buckwheat honey for coughs (at our pediatrician's recommendation), nasal saline rinses for clearing sinuses (though I haven't brought myself to trying a neti pot, which has garnered a lot of media attention this year), and homeopathic remedies.  We try to avoid using antibiotics unless absolutely necessary (but will when warranted).  Ever the obsessive label reader, when we must resort to over-the-counter medications, I try to find the ones that are dye-free and contain the fewest preservatives and ancillary (or "inactive") ingredients.  Side effects are something we take into consideration when deciding whether to start a new medication.

The worst part for me is seeing the bambini suffering, like last night when the younger lad coughed so hard he threw up, or when we're having to administer medication that is unpleasant for them to receive (like his eye drops -- how he loathes them).  My heart goes out to those people and families who face constant and far greater suffering than we do.   We are very grateful for our overall good health and place a premium on nourishing ourselves well to maintain it. 

Here in our little home pharmacy, we hope to dispense with the dispensing of medications as soon as the allergen heyday for such things as tree pollens and grasses tapers off.  Until then, I'm going to be monitoring our supply of tissue and tinkering with my chart to get it just so.  I'll probably get it that way just when the need for it is ending.  And that will be fine by me...

perspective

A week or so ago, my friend paralyzed as a complication of bacterial meningitis moved out of the local hospital to one equipped to teach her how to live life to the fullest in her present state while maintaining hope that she will one day regain movement.

The thought of her being hundreds of miles away from her family and friends while she tries to heal is one that weighs heavily on my mind.  In fact, the enormity of her situation is something that I struggle to understand -- and don't really think I can -- but I don't believe God has caused this to happen to her.   As this homily by Fr. Jack Gleason from the Third Sunday of Lent addresses, that is not how God operates.

While I can't explain why my friend is suffering so greatly (and each in their own way her husband, children, family, and friends), my faith tells me it is not without meaning.  I can find great hope and strength of faith in seeing the ways people have responded to this family's crisis.  Untold numbers of people are praying for her recovery and for the protection and well being of her children and family.  Her direct caretakers and those caring for her children have had and continue to have opportunities to give comfort, offer aid, show mercy, and allay anxiety.  And each one of us aware of her situation cannot help but be moved to consider the multitude of blessings and gifts bestowed upon each of us -- down to the very gifts of life and breath.

I continue to pray God's will be done in my mama friend's life and in the course it takes from here.  If it is his will, I pray she is restored to complete health with full use of her body.  Considering the road she is on helps keep the road I travel each day in proper perspective.  Each of us is not without struggle or difficulty or pain, but most of the time what I face as a result of fatigue or stress or whatever else pales in comparison to what she must grapple with.

The move to this hospital is one that will, as our mutual friend has written, teach her "how to live in her home, with her family, raising her children."  So many people suffer so greatly in so many different ways.  Never far from mind are my Aunt Robin and my friend Jake, who both lost battles with cancer at early ages, and the many people in my family and friends who struggle with chronic illness and the grief of having lost loved ones.  Disease and suffering are never easily understood for anyone of any age.  When they strike "young" people, it is even more difficult to comprehend.    Keeping this in mind helps me maintain some perspective -- specifically, the grace to be grateful for the particular cross Christ calls me to carry, knowing that he will supply all the grace and aid to carry it, and that such suffering is not without value when joined to those Christ endured on the cross.

It seems my friend has been living Lent in a very tangible way since late January when she fell ill.  I pray as Easter approaches, she and all those who suffer will know Christ's healing grace.