I went to Arkansas today, to pick up four of my six nieces. It's their Spring Break, and they wanted to come to Aunt Lex's house. SO, my sister and I met half-way between our houses, and traded kids for space. They are the sweetest four girls you could ever hope to meet. Very well-mannered, and so eager to please. I love having them around. For some reason, I am the "Diva" of the family. I'm the girly-girl that my sister is not. She doesn't have time to be--she has five girls! They love to hang out with Aunt Lex, because they know we'll do girly-girl stuff like shop and get our nails painted, and try new hairstyles. I'm into looking stylish. Although my wardrobe is rather outdated right now, I love to look my best. I like high heels and jewelry, and I love my long, layered hair (although I think it's a bit too long at the moment!). My sister is into function and efficiency. She's a full six feet tall, and high heels would make her taller than her husband, and she couldn't chase young children as well in them. Jewelry is an afterthought, and she just doesn't have much of it. Her short haircut is smart---perfect for her slender face, but also for her busy lifestyle. She is beautiful, and I love her dearly, this "baby sister" of mine. She has learned to do without, so her kids can have, and good enough is usually good enough. I admire her for her mother's heart. She's giving and caring in so many ways. My life is so much richer because of my precious sister.
OK---back to the Diva in me! For a long time, I was a little put off by this title. Lex, the Diva, who was too busy trying to look good to help with the dishes, or who was too busy socializing to actually get her hands dirty. My sister would say this with a smile on her face. I knew she was kidding, but in a way she was serious, and maybe even a little admiring of my ability to get out of doing just about anything I didn't want to do with a little Southern charm, and a lot of "paint and glue"! My husband even gets in on this Diva thing---when we have somewhere to go, and I need to look my best, he starts singing a song from the movie, "Oliver." The first lines are: "Girl, we've got work to do. Pass me the paint and glue....When one knows the world is watching, one does what one must. Some minor adjustments, darling; not for my vanity, but for humanity!" And that's not really the whole truth. It IS for my vanity! But don't tell anyone....
So, maybe there is a Diva in me, and I let her out on occasion. Is that an altogether bad thing? As long as I don't ACT like a Diva, and expect everyone to cater to my every whim, I think I'm OK.
Are you getting up? Oh, good! I need a soda....!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Finding the Humor
This weekend was a chance for me to really reflect on my boys and our lives. If I could, I would create a world where they would never have to suffer pain, or endure hardship. But, we live in this world, and we know that we have to take the bad along with the good. And some of the bad is actually kind of funny---NOW! Believe me, at the time it was happening, I wasn't laughing!
There was a time that Poison Control actually knew me by name, and they knew my children's names. Well....actually only one child's name---Jackson! Jackson has always been very independent, and extremely inquisitive. He's the child who asks 500 questions a day (still does this!), and wouldn't stop there, except that we get tired of answering them! He's curious. So, there was a time in his life when he thought that everything needed to be tested, worn, or tasted! There was the time that he painted his face, lips and fingernails with White Out. Of course, on the label in bold letters it says, TOXIC! KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN! Hello, Poison Control?? Then, there was the time he was playing in my bathroom while I showered. How much damage could the kid do while I was right there?! I step out of the shower, and he turns around, holding the nail polish remover, with the lid in his mouth! Hello, Poison Control?? My favorite was the time I was the cause. Jonathan was taking liquid meds at the time, because he hadn't learned to swallow a pill yet. So, the time came for him to take his meds, and I drew them up, walked over and just popped them into a kid's mouth. A few minutes later, I walked past Jonathan, and said, "Oh, Jonathan! I need to give you your meds. Wait! I already did that---I drew them up, and...gave....them.....to...." About that time Jackson walks over and says, "Mmmm--mmm!! Mommy, Jon-Jon's 'menos' tastes GOOD!" Oh, shoot!! First call---the cardiologist. He laughed, then he told me to call---you guessed it---Poison Control! Hello?? On the other end of the phone: "Oh! Hi, Mrs. Fussell! What's Jackson gotten into today?" GREAT!! They know me by name now! I'm sure I'm on some "watch list" at this point! I didn't bother to call them when he ate Chap-Stick. I figured it would just help his constipation. Turns out, I was right! Dog food concerned me a little, but the dog didn't seem to mind, so I let it go. Thankfully, none of the things Jackson did, ate, or had given to him harmed him in any way.
I'm learning to see the humor in these little things....in the grander scheme of things, most of it's all small stuff anyway, right?!
There was a time that Poison Control actually knew me by name, and they knew my children's names. Well....actually only one child's name---Jackson! Jackson has always been very independent, and extremely inquisitive. He's the child who asks 500 questions a day (still does this!), and wouldn't stop there, except that we get tired of answering them! He's curious. So, there was a time in his life when he thought that everything needed to be tested, worn, or tasted! There was the time that he painted his face, lips and fingernails with White Out. Of course, on the label in bold letters it says, TOXIC! KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN! Hello, Poison Control?? Then, there was the time he was playing in my bathroom while I showered. How much damage could the kid do while I was right there?! I step out of the shower, and he turns around, holding the nail polish remover, with the lid in his mouth! Hello, Poison Control?? My favorite was the time I was the cause. Jonathan was taking liquid meds at the time, because he hadn't learned to swallow a pill yet. So, the time came for him to take his meds, and I drew them up, walked over and just popped them into a kid's mouth. A few minutes later, I walked past Jonathan, and said, "Oh, Jonathan! I need to give you your meds. Wait! I already did that---I drew them up, and...gave....them.....to...." About that time Jackson walks over and says, "Mmmm--mmm!! Mommy, Jon-Jon's 'menos' tastes GOOD!" Oh, shoot!! First call---the cardiologist. He laughed, then he told me to call---you guessed it---Poison Control! Hello?? On the other end of the phone: "Oh! Hi, Mrs. Fussell! What's Jackson gotten into today?" GREAT!! They know me by name now! I'm sure I'm on some "watch list" at this point! I didn't bother to call them when he ate Chap-Stick. I figured it would just help his constipation. Turns out, I was right! Dog food concerned me a little, but the dog didn't seem to mind, so I let it go. Thankfully, none of the things Jackson did, ate, or had given to him harmed him in any way.
I'm learning to see the humor in these little things....in the grander scheme of things, most of it's all small stuff anyway, right?!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Letting go....
I heard once that motherhood was the greatest heartache a woman would ever experience. I also heard that mother's enter into this endeavour knowing that we will have our hearts broken, but we do it anyway. I must say that I believe both of those. We love our children so much it hurts, and we know that there will be disappointment and heartbreak along the way. One of the things that nobody mentions is the guilt moms feel. I wish we could learn to let go of the guilt. I feel guilty for every struggle in my children's lives, no matter what it is. If you feel that way, you are NOT alone! But I want us to make the effort to let go of the guilt! I don't know why things happen in this life. I don't NEED to know why---I just need to know that God is in control. And whether our children's hurts are a skinned knee, a breathing problem, a heart problem, a bad grade on a test, or their first broken heart, we can't spend our time feeling guilty about it. That's not living! Maybe Forrest's mama was right---life really is like a box of chocolate; you never know what you're going to get. I don't know about you, but I'll take the bad along with the good. If you think of it like chocolate, you know that some you'll like, some you won't, but it's not worth throwing away the entire box, just because you bit into the orange creme, and you were hoping for chocolate truffle! You take the bad along with the good, because you know that, at some point, the good is going to come around again, and you're going to savor every minute of it. Soak it up, and let it sink in. Then, when life hands you the bitter, you can handle it. And you pray....if you pray over your children every day, then you can trust God to do His part and take care of them. Does that mean that hardship won't come? NO! It just means that, no matter what, you trust God to see your children---and you---through the rough times.
Friday, March 19, 2010
March 19th
If you have known me for more than five minutes, then you probably know about my son, Jonathan. I have two beautiful children---Jackson, who's 9, and Jonathan, who's 13. Both of them were born, to the best of our knowledge, healthy and normal. There was nothing out of the ordinary about pregnancy or birth with either one of them. However, in October of 1996, at the age of 4 1/2 months, Jonathan got sick. We lived in North Louisiana then. I had no idea how sick he was, or how sick he would become at that time. Aren't you glad God doesn't show you these things? I think that, if I had known what we were going to face, I probably would have just curled up in a corner somewhere, and stayed there until they came to take me away. Ignorance was bliss.
When I took him to the doctor, thinking that he had a virus, and might be a little dehydrated, she took one look at him and called an ambulance. When she came in to tell me that he needed to go to the hospital, my first response was, "No! He's not going!" When she told me that she thought he had internal bleeding, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. My husband is a pilot, and he was out of town on a trip that day. I had no idea where he even was at that moment. All I could do was get into survival mode, and do what needed to be done.
In the ambulance, the doctor kept asking me if I had dropped him, if he rolled off a bed, if I or my husband would ever hit him, or if a caregiver might have done something to him. The only thing I could think of was a bumpy airplane ride we had taken the day before, but she assured me that wouldn't have been the problem. We rode to the hospital, with the doctor giving him oxygen, and me wishing I could have some, too.
At the hospital, Jonathan was whisked away while I went to admitting for paperwork. When I left there, I had no idea where to go. I had never spent much time in a hospital, and didn't know there were different ICU's for newborns, children and adults. I found the adult ICU, sat down in the only chair available in the room, and started to cry. Not two seconds later, I heard the sweetest sound ever---my name. Someone there knew me! I looked up, and there, across the room, sat the mom of one of my dear friends. I quickly told her my story, and she told me I was in the wrong place. She loaned me money to call my sister, who was 30 minutes away, and my mom, who was two hours away. Then, she walked me to the Pediatric ICU, and she stayed with me, until my pastor arrived.
When the doctor came out with an X-ray in his hand, I was stunned. He told me that Jonathan did NOT have internal bleeding, but that he was in Congestive Heart Failure. What?! That's an old person's disease, right? My grandfather had that---not my 4 month old baby! But, it was definitely Congestive Heart Failure. Then, the doctor told me that he couldn't treat Jonathan there, and he would have to go to a hospital five hours away in New Orleans. So, a few hours later, I found myself sitting at the back of a small plane, with Jonathan being kept alive by a nurse and respiratory therapist pumping an Ambu Bag for him, on our way to a hospital in New Orleans. It was there that doctors first mentioned Jonathan and a heart transplant in the same sentence. I denied it would be necessary, thinking that, if I just believed HARD enough, God surely would just heal Jonathan with a supernatural *ZAP*! That didn't happen.
Fast forward to March 1997. I had watched Jonathan get sicker and sicker, refusing to believe that he would need any surgery. When he ended up in the hospital again, doctors told us that his only option was to be listed for transplant. By this time, we had changed doctors, and were now being seen at Texas Children's Hospital in Houston. Once Jonathan went back into the hospital, he didn't leave again until he got his new heart. At first, doctors thought he might be well enough to go home, but he took a bad turn. He was listed for transplant on March 14th---my mom-in-law's birthday. On March 18th, we were told that he needed to be on heart/lung bypass, because he wouldn't make it through the day without it. Doctors told us they had done everything they could, Jonathan was maxed out on all the medicines he could get, and ECMO had to be used. But we refused it. Then, they told us they could keep him comfortable, but that we should plan on it being just my husband and me again.
You remember that I didn't want Jonathan to have a transplant, right? Well, that was STILL what I was saying---that he wouldn't have to have a transplant, and that he would just be supernaturally healed! Thanks to my mom, I came to a very sobering realization that March 18th. What if God's way of healing Jonathan was WITH a transplant, using the medical knowledge and skills of doctors?! It was a real light-bulb moment for me. I quickly changed my "song and dance", and told God that it didn't matter to me HOW He healed my son---as long as He kept His promise that he WOULD heal him. Less than 45 minutes later, we got a phone call about an available heart. We accepted the gift we were being given with joy and trepidation. It was so hard, knowing that Jonathan's heart had to come from another child. Little did we know then, but that heart, from that precious little 22-month-old baby girl, would bring us so much joy. AND our experience with Jonathan would bind us together with some amazing people. Because of one act of kindness toward strangers, our donor family has blessed not only our family, but countless others that we have been able to bless over the last 13 years. Jonathan had his transplant on March 19th. That day will forever be a bittersweet day of celebration. We celebrate the life of our child, Jonathan, who is healthy and happy; and we celebrate Taylor Marie, whose life was cut short, but who gave us the most incredible gift. It's sadness mixed with joy.
Thank you Matt and Denise, for sharing Taylor's heart with us. I can assure you, we have taken good care of it, and will continue to do so! Thank you, too, for allowing us to share Jonathan's life with you. I want you to always see that something good did come out of a terrible tragedy. Jonathan is the most wonderful big brother, son, and grandson you can possibly imagine. He is a young man of great strength and character. He will lead his generation in something great.
When I took him to the doctor, thinking that he had a virus, and might be a little dehydrated, she took one look at him and called an ambulance. When she came in to tell me that he needed to go to the hospital, my first response was, "No! He's not going!" When she told me that she thought he had internal bleeding, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. My husband is a pilot, and he was out of town on a trip that day. I had no idea where he even was at that moment. All I could do was get into survival mode, and do what needed to be done.
In the ambulance, the doctor kept asking me if I had dropped him, if he rolled off a bed, if I or my husband would ever hit him, or if a caregiver might have done something to him. The only thing I could think of was a bumpy airplane ride we had taken the day before, but she assured me that wouldn't have been the problem. We rode to the hospital, with the doctor giving him oxygen, and me wishing I could have some, too.
At the hospital, Jonathan was whisked away while I went to admitting for paperwork. When I left there, I had no idea where to go. I had never spent much time in a hospital, and didn't know there were different ICU's for newborns, children and adults. I found the adult ICU, sat down in the only chair available in the room, and started to cry. Not two seconds later, I heard the sweetest sound ever---my name. Someone there knew me! I looked up, and there, across the room, sat the mom of one of my dear friends. I quickly told her my story, and she told me I was in the wrong place. She loaned me money to call my sister, who was 30 minutes away, and my mom, who was two hours away. Then, she walked me to the Pediatric ICU, and she stayed with me, until my pastor arrived.
When the doctor came out with an X-ray in his hand, I was stunned. He told me that Jonathan did NOT have internal bleeding, but that he was in Congestive Heart Failure. What?! That's an old person's disease, right? My grandfather had that---not my 4 month old baby! But, it was definitely Congestive Heart Failure. Then, the doctor told me that he couldn't treat Jonathan there, and he would have to go to a hospital five hours away in New Orleans. So, a few hours later, I found myself sitting at the back of a small plane, with Jonathan being kept alive by a nurse and respiratory therapist pumping an Ambu Bag for him, on our way to a hospital in New Orleans. It was there that doctors first mentioned Jonathan and a heart transplant in the same sentence. I denied it would be necessary, thinking that, if I just believed HARD enough, God surely would just heal Jonathan with a supernatural *ZAP*! That didn't happen.
Fast forward to March 1997. I had watched Jonathan get sicker and sicker, refusing to believe that he would need any surgery. When he ended up in the hospital again, doctors told us that his only option was to be listed for transplant. By this time, we had changed doctors, and were now being seen at Texas Children's Hospital in Houston. Once Jonathan went back into the hospital, he didn't leave again until he got his new heart. At first, doctors thought he might be well enough to go home, but he took a bad turn. He was listed for transplant on March 14th---my mom-in-law's birthday. On March 18th, we were told that he needed to be on heart/lung bypass, because he wouldn't make it through the day without it. Doctors told us they had done everything they could, Jonathan was maxed out on all the medicines he could get, and ECMO had to be used. But we refused it. Then, they told us they could keep him comfortable, but that we should plan on it being just my husband and me again.
You remember that I didn't want Jonathan to have a transplant, right? Well, that was STILL what I was saying---that he wouldn't have to have a transplant, and that he would just be supernaturally healed! Thanks to my mom, I came to a very sobering realization that March 18th. What if God's way of healing Jonathan was WITH a transplant, using the medical knowledge and skills of doctors?! It was a real light-bulb moment for me. I quickly changed my "song and dance", and told God that it didn't matter to me HOW He healed my son---as long as He kept His promise that he WOULD heal him. Less than 45 minutes later, we got a phone call about an available heart. We accepted the gift we were being given with joy and trepidation. It was so hard, knowing that Jonathan's heart had to come from another child. Little did we know then, but that heart, from that precious little 22-month-old baby girl, would bring us so much joy. AND our experience with Jonathan would bind us together with some amazing people. Because of one act of kindness toward strangers, our donor family has blessed not only our family, but countless others that we have been able to bless over the last 13 years. Jonathan had his transplant on March 19th. That day will forever be a bittersweet day of celebration. We celebrate the life of our child, Jonathan, who is healthy and happy; and we celebrate Taylor Marie, whose life was cut short, but who gave us the most incredible gift. It's sadness mixed with joy.
Thank you Matt and Denise, for sharing Taylor's heart with us. I can assure you, we have taken good care of it, and will continue to do so! Thank you, too, for allowing us to share Jonathan's life with you. I want you to always see that something good did come out of a terrible tragedy. Jonathan is the most wonderful big brother, son, and grandson you can possibly imagine. He is a young man of great strength and character. He will lead his generation in something great.
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