What I learned this week: One way my eldest daughter is not like me

My eldest daughter, Brianna, is very much like me. She and I enjoy the same books, same movies, same music — for the most part (that silly girl adores country music far more than I ever will).

We like the same clothing style, love the same foods, and we have many of the same mannerisms. We even unintentionally say the very same things at the very same times often enough that Jim, upon hearing our comments in stereo — one side me, one side Brianna — regularly responds to us with, "Will you two stop doing that!?"

Brianna

Yes, Brianna is very much like me.

There is one way in which my daughter is so not like me, though. It's something we both learned this week. It's something that led me to thank God out loud upon hearing.

That something is this: Brianna does not have MS.

I'm talking about multiple sclerosis — a drag of a disease I've worried for decades one or more of my daughters would inherit from me... despite there being no proof MS is hereditary.

Hereditary or not, Brianna began expressing concerns about unusually numb feet and oddball sensations in her body about six months ago. Just a complaint here and there, sentiments she'd pass along knowing darn well it was scaring the hell out of me despite my calm and reassuring demeanor at the mentions.

"It's probably just related to your back," I'd say on the outside while fearing the worst on the inside.

See, Brianna was in a car accident a few years ago, rear-ended by a landscaping truck that never even hit the brakes as she was stopped at a red traffic light. It wasn't good, especially for her back. Brianna eventually, though not even 25 years of age at the time, had to undergo emergency back surgery months after the accident but related to the accident. She's had minor pain and numbness and pings and pinches in her feet and legs ever since.

But when those minor pings and pains recently changed to major and began sounding more and more like the pings and pains I experienced before being diagnosed with MS 21 years ago, neither of us could ignore the symptoms. Brianna needed to see a doctor who would confirm or rule out MS.

Brianna saw that doctor Wednesday.

The doctor ruled out MS Wednesday.

I learned Wednesday that my daughter who is very-so-very much like me is not like me in the one way I prayed she and her sisters would never, ever be.

Hallelujah!

Yes, there's nerve damage and neuropathy and issues my daughter — who just turned 31 on Sunday — will deal with the rest of her life, things that may worsen throughout her life.

We both agree that sucks.

Yet we also both agree on this: Thank God it's not MS.

In that way we are very much alike.

In that way we both say — in stereo — hallelujah!

And that is what I — and Brianna — learned this week.

I learned another thing this week (yesterday, in fact), this one far more sad: Our bloggy friend Joan, whom many of you know as Gramcracker and who blogs at Gramcracker Crumbs, lost her husband unexpectedly this week. Please keep Joan and her loved ones in your thoughts and prayers.

Have a safe, happy and memorable weekend. I look forward to connecting with you again on Monday.

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

What I learned this week: Aha moments on ears, Tori Amos, and swingers

I like to learn new things all the time. Sometimes those things are big, sometimes not so big at all. This week what I learned leaned more to the latter — yet interesting to me just the same.

EARS
ear closeupDid you know that your earlobes provide skin to be used to replace facial skin removed due to skin cancer? I did not know that, but now I do.

The story isn't mine to tell, so I can't share in full, but a loved one of mine had skin cancer spots removed from her face this week. Those spots were deep and wide and in need of skin to cover the (literal) holes left by removing the bad stuff. I'd been told the likely source for skin replacement was her earlobes. I imagined her having her face patched up but no longer being able to wear earrings as her ear lobe was cut off, split open like a chicken breast then the fillet stitched to her face.

Thankfully that's not how it works. Instead, small slivers of skin were sliced from her lobe — which remained fully attached — and carefully placed on the spots in need of coverage. Who'da thunk it?

TORI AMOS
I've never felt strongly about Ms. Amos one way or another. To be honest, I can't even think of a song title or even a snippet of a tune of songs that she's sung. That said, though, I've always thought of her — if I ever thought of her at all — as being much younger than me.

Well guess what? I learned (from AARP magazine) that Tori Amos will be 50 next Thursday. FIFTY! That's just too weird to me, for some reason. It's kind of like learning that Pee Wee Herman is, well, he's ... (Googling it real quick) ... Ohmigosh! Pee Wee Herman/Paul Rubens is 60! Sixty-one on the 27th, actually. Not that that's old, but so not what I expected for Pee Wee. Kind of makes Tori Amos seem such a baby.

SWINGERS
Jim has been trying his darnedest for years to attract hummingbirds to our yard. Considering how abundant they are in our area, you'd think we'd have at least a few stopping by our place. Nothing for years. Then last year we got one. ONE! All summer long we saw only one little guy sipping on one of the hummingbird feeders in our yard.

Because of Jim's determination to attract the hummers, Megan and her family gave Jim for Father's Day a pretty new hummingbird feeder, a book on attracting them, and a sweet little swing the birds would supposedly swing away on.

Well, the book helped, as we finally — finally — have several hummingbirds visiting not only the pretty new feeder but our old one, too. The swing? Meh... it's cute and all, but we never expected it to be much of a draw for the hummingbirds.

Oh my, were we wrong. Those little guys and gals love it. They're not only hummers, they're swingers, too. And one in particular swings long enough and often enough for me to get some pretty darn cute photos of her merrily swinging away.

hummingbird swing 

hummingbird swing

humingbird swing

hummingbird swing

As you can see, the lessons weren't huge or life-changing — well, the ear one was for one person I know — but they are indeed what I learned this week.

Enjoy your weekend! I look forward to connecting again come Monday!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

Kids, cars and heatstroke prevention

My grandsons live in the desert. Deserts being what they are, it's hot there. So hot, in fact, Bubby and Mac — and everyone else in their area — are often warned during the summer to stay indoors because venturing outside can be downright dangerous to their health. Fatal even.

So the boys stay and play in the house on such days. Except when attending swimming lessons or play dates at the local water park, which make the temps semi bearable. Staying in the water was pretty much the only way I, a mountain dweller, survived outdoor fun when visiting my grandsons a few weeks ago.

grandma and grandson in swimming pool 

Because of how horrendously hot it is in the desert, I've been concerned since Bubby's birth more than five years ago about the possibility one of my sweet grandsons might suffer heatstroke by being in a hot vehicle too long. I have no doubt those who care for Bubby and Mac, especially my daughter and son-in-law, are incredible, loving, conscientious people who would never, ever intentionally leave one of the boys in the car, let alone long enough to suffer any ill effects.

I know that with all my heart.

Yet, it's still a possibility because such things happen — unfortunately and so very unintentionally — all the time.

Yesterday was National Heatstroke Prevention Day, which focuses on preventing children dying in hot vehicles. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration and Safe Kids Worldwide joined together to raise awareness about the issue, which has taken the lives of more than 24 kids in the United States so far just this year.

I'm a day late in sharing this information with you, at least in terms of coinciding with the national campaign, but it's never too late to be more aware of the issue. So, though it's hard on the heart to see and hear, please watch and consider the following video. Then do share it with those who care for your beloved little ones. Because heatstroke deaths in children don't happen just in the desert, and they certainly don't happen just to the children of "bad" parents.

Today's question:

What is the highest temps have gotten at your place so far this summer?

What I learned this week: One big thing, one small thing, and one in-between

money

Big thing: I do daily injections to help manage my MS. It's an expensive medication, and I'm very fortunate to have insurance that covers the majority of it. Despite that good fortune, I regularly complain about having to pay my portion of the co-pay — even after co-pay assistance.

A few days ago, my prescription for the medication was called into Walgreens by my new neurologist (see below). For the past five years that I've been shooting up with the stuff, the prescription has been filled by a "specialty pharmacy," not the local Walgreens. The new nurse who called in the Rx didn't realize this, though, and erroneously sent it to Walgreens... who soon contacted me to let me know there will be a bit of a delay while they await delivery of the meds and that my cost for the 30-day supply of injections will be $6000.09.

Yes, you read that right: SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS and NINE CENTS!

I about died. Then I immediately thanked my lucky stars — and God, too — for my insurance. And for specialty pharmacies. Then I canceled the Walgreens order.

Lesson learned: In mere seconds, I realized the importance of shutting up about my measly $35 co-pay portion when I could be paying $6000.09 per month. Or going without. I guarantee I'd be going without, if not for the insurance. 

Small thing: Speaking of my MS — which I really hate to focus on but this is indeed what I learned this week — I met with a new neurologist the other day. I'd been seeing the same one since being diagnosed in 1992. He was (is) an old, old man who finally, after practicing longer than I've been alive, chose to retire a few months ago. We had our last annual appointment a year ago. He told me then (his exact words), "You are a miracle, Lisa. You are one of the few who have figured out the mind/body connection. You are truly a miracle." That was the last time I saw him. Considering his advanced age, I took his exclamations with a grain of salt.

Fast forward to my appointment this week with my new neurologist, a young gal from India (whom, maybe this is crazy to admit, I chose from the list of local board-certified neurologists mostly because she reminded me of my friend Vidya from India). After discussing this and that, my new neuro had me run through a few physical tests. Her response: "You are strong!" Then she had me walk across the room. Her eyes grew big, a smile crossed her face, and she exclaimed, "You are a miracle, girl!"

I couldn't believe it. Very same words from the young neuro as had been uttered by the old neuro.

Lesson learned: I'm a miracle... at least in the eyes of my neurologists.

young brothers

The one in-between: Yesterday my grandsons and I read one of my recent picture book acquisitions while on Facetime. Well, I read it to Bubby. Mac preferred roaming the house and finding a bone for Roxy while I read. Meh... he's two.

Our Facetime session was short, but just the sort of thing I need now and then to carry me through til I hug Bubby and Mac again. I like to think it's the sort of thing they need, too — even if treating the dog to a bone takes priority.

Lesson learned: Though it usually feels akin to pulling teeth to get myself added to my grandsons' busy schedule while 800+ miles away, it's worth it. For all of us, I hope. So I'll keep pursuing Facetime opportunities. Perhaps some Skype or Google+ time will eventually follow.

That, folks, is what I learned this week — though I've not yet fully committed to the "big, small, in-between" designation I've assigned each. Depending on the hour and my mood, the order certainly could be flipped, flopped, turned inside out. Still, those are my lessons, and I'm sticking to it.

As I mentioned last week, I'll be offline Saturday and Sunday, for the most part. I hope to see you back here Monday!

Wishing you a most marvelous weekend! Cheers!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

Walk MS 2013 — Photo recap

Thank you to everyone for the fantastic support of my participation in Walk MS 2013 on Saturday. I finished the three-mile course, only pooping out a tad at about the two-mile mark, then finishing strong thanks to the support of my fellow team members, Brianna and Andrea.

Here, a selection of photos from the event — many of the photos taken by team photographer Jim:

Walk MS 2013
Lots to see and do.

 

Walk MS 2013
Family support matters!

 

Toyota Walk MS sponsor
Toyota generously serves as Official Vehicle Sponsor of Walk MS 2013.

 

Walk MS 2013 representatives
MS Society representatives (from left): Chelsea Hixson, local Walk MS Manager, and Kristin Gibbs, Vice-President of Development/Colorado-Wyoming Chapter.

 

Walk MS 2013 start line
Before the start and heading out...

 

Walk MS 2013 finish line
With three miles under our belts (or fanny pack, in my case).

 

Walk MS 2013 Doggy Duds
Even the dogs enjoyed the day.

Again, I sincerely appreciate the support of one and all. With your help we exceeded our team fundraising goal of $500. Thank you for helping make a difference!

Note: This is not a sponsored post for Toyota or the National MS Society; I'm simply appreciative of the positive difference made by both.

Today's question:

When the going got rough and I thought the MS might get the best of me, I kept telling myself to just "keep on keeping on." What is your motto when the going gets rough, physically or otherwise?

Twenty-one years of MS, plus the GRAND Social

MS Walk

Yay! Today is my anniversary! It's kind of a funky one to celebrate, as it's the anniversary of the date that I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. But I've done so well, I can't help but celebrate and share.

On Mother's Day 21 years ago, Jim literally carried me through the doors of the hospital emergency room so we could figure out why I couldn't walk and was losing my vision. My legs had gone numb a few weeks earlier, on April 24. I vividly recall the date because it was the night of a school carnival, where I'd helped man the booths at my daughters' elementary school. My feet were numb after the event, and the numbness progressively worsened, as did my vision. My general physician responded to my daily calls about the problem by telling me it was "just stress."

Long story short, thanks to a new doctor, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, told I'd likely never walk and possibly never see again. I was a young mother with young children, and I was scared to death. But I quickly learned the MS diagnosis wasn't a death sentence, that they were (thankfully!) wrong about my walking and vision, and that life goes on. In the past 21 years, I've learned many other important lessons about myself and my world that I wouldn't have without the MS. In many ways, it's been a blessing.

That said, though, it's a blessing I'd never wish upon others — especially not anyone I love, especially because not everyone is as fortunate as I have been in terms of progression of the disease. Which is why I support the annual MS Walk — which this year celebrates its 25th anniversary — and am once again walking in it this coming Saturday. Brianna has been instrumental in getting me to do it, and we first walked together in 2008. I finished the walk, but I could barely walk after crossing the finish line (Brianna even had to bring the car to me as I couldn't get to it). Because of that, it took me several years to get up the nerve to do it again. Finally, last year, we gave it another shot, and Andrea joined us. I did well, we had a great time, and we're doing it again this year.

Here's a little plug for Walk MS 2013:

I tend to shy away from fundraising efforts, even for great causes. But when I wrote about the walk after completing it last year, several readers asked why I didn't mention it before the walk so they could support me. So this year I offer here — with no obligation or expectation — the link to my MS Walk 2013 webpage, where you can sponsor my walk, if you feel so moved. If so, thank you from the bottom of my heart. And thank you all, in advance, for crossing your fingers and sending good thoughts my way as I tackle MS Walk 2013 with Brianna and Andrea at my side. I look forward to sharing with you photos of our success!

Plus, there's another anniversary of sorts: Today's GRAND Social is the FIFTY-THIRD one here on Grandma's Briefs! Thank you for participating once again!

link party

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