Chapter 32, 2008, when it rains it pours
The armor starts to crack in the O'Brien Wetzel household. The last half of Katie's junior year brings with it signs of a deep depression. Her feelings of hopelessness did not manifest themselves in sadness which is what you might think you'd see. Katie's came out in anger, irritability, and emotional withdrawal from people. She dealt with a loss of interest in everything and she had trouble sleeping. Many times when young adults deal with this type of internal turmoil they self medicate with alcohol or drugs, Katie was no exception. It's an unfortunate reality that teens feel the need to partake in unhealthy extracurricular partying activities some may do it for fun but others do it to masks emotions they have trouble figuring out or dealing with. Katie never got into trouble due to drinking because it was for the most part under our radar, but she did confess to doing it to escape her feelings.
I knew she had anger issues but so does her father so I figured she just came by it naturally, like she was genetically wired for it or that it was environmental. I didn't realize it was a symptom of depression. Her anger problem seemed to get worse as she got older. One incident in particular comes to my mind. Both Alex and Katie had a friend over after school. We all sat down for a bite to eat. After our meal I left for an hour or more to meet up with a client. While I was gone Katie started making cookies for an event at school. Alex's friend wanted to eat the cookie dough but Katie said, "No." Each time Katie turned her back Alex's friend would grab a bite of the dough, Katie would then reprimand her, as this behavior went back and forth it escalated to the point of Alex's friend grabbing a huge handful of the mix and tossing it at Katie with enough force to splatter all over the kitchen, and then she took the bowl and put it under the faucet filling it with water. After that, according to Alex," The fight was on," Katie took the girl down to ground with hair, hands, arms and fists flying. Alex and Cassidy, Katie's friend, were screaming at them to stop while pulling them apart. It ended with Alex's friend running out the door and not coming back.
Although this outburst from Katie was provoked, it also proved that there was some underlying tension going on with her. That situation would have made even the mildest person angry, but letting a set of circumstances explode into physical violence is never the answer. This type of aggression was not the norm for Kate, but she feels anger and irritation more than the average person. As time went on throughout the year she began to confide in Alex her feelings of hopelessness and despair which was then communicated to me. If a teen is depressed for an extended period of time you do not mess around, you get them help before they do something drastic.
We found a nice young woman who is a local psychologist in our community for Katie to talk to. Katie, not being much of a talker was hesitant to see her at first. We went in together. The therapist talked to me first to get my take on the situation. Then, she spoke to Katie alone and finally we both went in together. The tears were flowing. Even the therapist cried hearing Katie's story, my story and our family story.
Apparently Katie's plight was brought on by the initial news of my illness, that fateful day when I was driving home from my original diagnosis and called Mike to tell him. Katie and Frankie were standing in the kitchen when he answered the phone, seeing Mike's reaction along with Frankie's and everyone else's; put her into an emotional shut down. Her plate of armor went up that day, and all emotions other than anger were going to have a hard time getting in or out. As family and friends cried Katie ran upstairs a barricaded herself in her closet. This little girl who was all of twelve years old told herself that she was going to have to be the strong one, the one to take care of everyone else.
Katie continued to see her therapist who eventually put her on anti depressants, not necessarily for life, but to get her through this difficult time. After seeing the improvements in Katie's well being we decided to see Sarah, the therapist, as a family, Alex would come only when her school schedule allowed it. When it didn't, she felt she should be conferenced in. I don't understand why therapy has a stigma attached to it. I guess it's because people are embarrassed to admit needing emotional help for fear of negative repercussions. If there is something out there that will help you make it through the day I'm all for it, providing it's healthy and positive.
Frankie Graduates from the 8th Grade
This year brings with it another milestone for one of my girls; Frankie is graduating from middle school and moving onto high school at the end of the summer. Most junior highs don't have a graduation ceremony after the eighth grade. The Catholic schools are the only ones and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because most of these kids have gone through every grade from kindergarten through eighth grade together and now they will split off into their individual choices for high school.
The ceremony is held in the church in the evening giving the students the opportunity to dress up for the occasion. They all look so grown up making me think back to the first day I saw most of them shuffling into Mrs. Conlin's kindergarten class. Frankie on the other hand was crying and trying to sprint towards the door to leave with me.
We begin this special night with Mass. During the service there are eight students who are given the opportunity to get up and read a paper they've written about the years spent at St. Jude school and what it has meant to them. Frankie has the privilege of being one of those students. This is an opportunity she begged and campaigned for in part because her sister Alex was able to read her own paper and Frankie was inspired to do the same when her time came.
Some of Frankie's classmates felt that she was given this chance because she persisted in begging her teacher. Frankie can be tenacious, to say the least, when she wants something. She is not a kid that is terribly focused; her grades throughout her school career have been erratic in part because she is not organized and loses assignments or forgets to hand them in. She can be disruptive in class because she likes to make people laugh, some teachers love her some don't exactly appreciate her antics. I would not go out on a limb and say that she is your typical model student.
Her speech on the other hand was well written and well executed other than choking up when she got to the part where she talked about my illness. The moment was extremely emotional. I could barely look up while listening to her muffled sobs. Thankfully a classmate came to her rescue with a Kleenex and she was able to complete her delivery. It was a proud moment for me and Mike. Her skeptical classmates even praised her for a job well done. After graduation we progressed to the school for refreshments, casual, reminiscent conversation and pictures. Again I find myself full of gratitude for this precious time.
My Little Sister has Breast Cancer
Three days before the celebration of my 5th anniversary of life I find out that my younger sister Mary has breast cancer. Mary is the sister that lost her husband twelve years ago to lung cancer. This is a sad day. It is hard to believe that another family member has been struck with this rotten disease. Fortunately Mary's cancer was found early. The disease had progressed to stage one; there were no lymph nodes involved which enabled her to get a lumpectomy. Chemotherapy proved to be a difficult challenge for Mary as it does for everyone, but she got through it without too much trouble.
She was a real trouper in the wig department. According to everyone the wig she picked out looked really great on her. If she was at a family function and got tired of wearing it she'd simply take it off. One day she got her head a little too close to an open, hot oven singeing her bangs. The lesson learned here; keep your head away from a hot oven while wearing a wig, or don't cook. After her therapy treatments were complete she had 6 weeks of radiation taking place Monday Through Friday on a daily basis. When it was all done she, along with everyone in our family and hers, was relieved. Mary was ready to move on to a healthier stage of life.
My Five Year Anniversary
There are many reasons to celebrate today. It has now been five years since my two year prognosis, the drug company is still making the clinical trial drug just for me, I feel ok for about two and a half weeks in between chemo sessions and my sister Mary is doing well. The menu of KFC and beer remains the same for everyone who attends. Each year we add something new and different to the menu. We start the meal out giving thanks for my continued existence as well as Mary's health. The evening on the deck is beautiful with the warm sun cooling as we head into dusk. The flowers and trees smell sweet and fresh as we all relax into familiar conversation until the sun sets. The feeling from all of us is appreciation.
Frankie starts High School
Frankie's 9th grade year didn't turn out exactly as she would have liked. As a matter of fact she describes it as her fifth grade nightmare all over again, only worse. There were issues with boys, one boy in particular they dated for a nanosecond, but broke up just as the year was starting. Let's just say that Frankie has an extremely difficult time letting people go from her life, whether they are worth keeping or not. She pined over the kid for most of the year. If she's not ready to let a person go she will fight for them whether they want her to or not. I guess living with a sick mom in a precarious state of existence has manifested her feelings into separation issues. For example, still at the age of fourteen, before she leaves she has to kiss and hug me a thousand times. She is warm and overly affectionate, either touching, hugging or her personal favorite pinching grabbing or spanking people on the butt. This includes sisters, parents, girls, boys, she doesn't discriminate.
Entering a new school brings with it jockeying for a place to fit, kind of like musical chairs, either you have a place to sit or you're out of the game. Frankie found herself out of the loop on more than one occasion. My youngest daughter can be described as a conundrum. She can be hysterically funny, but takes it too far on occasion. In some aspects she has a high maturity level, but then she can act younger than her age. There is a boy in her study hall who rides her hard with verbal abuse. She finally told him that the only reason he was cruel to her was because he was so unhappy with his own life. This is an insightful and courageous reaction to bullying. On the other hand, another kid called her a name and her response to him was, "Oh Yea, well you look like a bat." Apparently he had little eyes and big ears.
Frankie has taught me about forgiveness. She is unable to hold a grudge, unlike her Irish mother. Even if a person has been awful to her, and believe me they have, she will eventually pardon their bad behavior because if she doesn't let it go she's miserable. She gets this wonderful trait from her father.
She's had trials and tribulations with girls. Frankie isn't your typical demure young lady, she has a temper, she's bold, loud, her laugh booms through a room. She is flirtatious with boys, this bothers other girls, she gets along with the opposite sex better than her own because she acts like a boy, she can be crude, and basically she'll do almost anything for a laugh, but most importantly she has a big warm heart. She doesn't care what people think of her. And, she loves to be the center of attention. If there is a picture being taken, Frankie will find a way to be up front and center. Whenever her two older sisters want a picture with just the two of them, we inevitably see Frankie in the finished product; like her face peeking through at their waist, perhaps we'll see her off in the background jumping giving the peace sign or making a funny face. It's like where is Waldo only with Frankie. This child is loveable and exasperating at the same time. Girls and boys either like her or they don't. There isn't much of a middle ground.
Academically Frankie is still struggling. She is not stupid; in fact her grades have gone from A's to F's her entire school career mainly because she'd fail to hand something in, or she would lose an assignment. On many occasions we would work on organizing her life to no avail. Within a month or so she'd be back to forgetting assignments. We were at a loss to help her. Frustrations would run high when it came to school work.
There were also issues with mess. Her locker looked like a bomb went off in it. The state of her room was utter chaos. Anywhere Frankie went there'd be a trail of minor destruction. She was at a friend's house changing for a swim party and left their bathroom in total disarray. I only know this because the mother told me. It is one thing to leave your own house a mess but entirely unacceptable to leave another person's home a disaster area.
A bright spot is that she tried out for volleyball and made the freshman team. She hasn't played this sport for a few years so she is excited just to be part of it. Frankie is a good athlete; she was a gymnast for ten years and did well at the sport. Gymnastics is an excellent base activity for many other sports. It helps with coordination and you gain mental and physical strength. Their team did ok as did Frankie. She'd have great plays coupled with "what was that?" plays, not unlike her academic career.
We are learning that Frankie has problems with focusing. There are few things that can hold her attention for extended periods of time. This coupled with social issues and impulsive behavior, like biting a male classmate in the finger because he kept putting it in her face, gets her into trouble either with peers, teachers or parents. When all of these things escalated to a fever pitch we sought help from our family psychologist, Sarah, to get her tested for an attention disorder. She ended up going on a low dose of medication to improve focus and another medication for anxiety. Within a short period of time her grades improved, she became more organized and her impetuous behavior improved a little.
Apparently I do drink
I'm sure Mike would agree that we don't have much of social life anymore, not that we ever did, but now it's worse with treatment schedules, etc. Basically I am not that fun of a person. When Mike and I first married we went out more. However, I'd be the first guest wanting to leave a party and if he had his way he'd be the last to leave. When the kids came along it was me getting up early in the morning after a night out and Mike would sleep until noon. Being hung over while caring for young children does not mix.
If we are lucky we go out four times a year. I plan it around my chemo schedule so I feel well enough to enjoy myself. There is one couple, Eric and Debbie, who invite us to their home for delicious meals. She is a Martha Stewart cook and I'm not, when we suggest going out it is at a restaurant. My friend Cindy makes fabulous Iranian food for special occasions, we may partake in their family functions every so often. My friend Sue and her husband Steve are definitely restaurant people, we may go out with them a few times a year as well. And on occasion we see Mike's friends from college, that's about the extent of our social life other than seeing and talking to other parents at the kid's sporting events.
One evening we went out for dinner with Sue and Steve to a nice restaurant with a beautiful view of the lake, it was a warm, fall evening, the food was good the conversation was fun and I felt almost normal. Perhaps this is why I drank more than usual. I've always been a cheap date, one to two glasses is generally my limit, because I can't handle more than that, but this particular evening I wasn't paying attention to how much I was drinking. When I stood up to leave I felt a little tipsy. We got in our cars and I leaned way out of the open car window waving farewell to Sue and Steve as they burst into laughter over my behavior. When we got home Katie was awake, I sat down on her bed and she said, "Oh my God you're drunk." I laughed so hard I fell off the bed and hurt my back. I guess that will teach me to imbibe too much. I must say, it was worth it.
The next day Katie had a volleyball tournament a few hours away. She told her whole team as well as the coach about my antics from the night before. Those Wetzel girls have big mouths; they must get it from their mother. My back hurt and I was hung over but I forgot about my pain when I started watching Katie in her game. I think it was the highlight of her high school career. That kid was all over the court that day passing the ball with skill. My pride for her masked my throbbing head and aching back. It was a great day! I loved every minute of it.
Dick goes into the hospital
I took my Father-in-law in for a hernia surgery today, a fairly simple surgery with a short hospital stay for most. Dick is 76 years old and in poor health. He is overweight with poor lung capacity. Walking from the car to the house leaves him feeling winded. This hernia is causing him a great deal of discomfort. Every time he moves he winces in pain. The thought of surgery makes him nervous but dealing with the soreness is too unbearable. We sit and chat until they call him in. Once he has changed and been prepped for surgery I leave for work and Mike comes in to wait until he is done.
The operation was not a success! The doctor said that once they opened him up they found the intestine was being strangulated and it was more of a challenge than originally thought to repair the hernia. Because of Dick's lung issues, they had to vent him to get the job done. He was taken to the ICU after surgery. The physician explained that they would have to leave him on the vent until he could breathe on his own. The vent is a machine attached to a large tube which carries oxygen through it. The tube is run through his mouth down his throat to bring oxygen to the lungs and the rest of the vital organs. He was given a strong medication to keep him sedated so he wouldn't pull the tube out of his mouth. The discomfort would be unbearable if he were awake. They explained that they would slowly try to wean him off the machine until he could breathe on his own. We could talk to him but of course there was no response. The Surgeon did not give us much hope. In his mind there was a very small chance that Dick would ever be strong enough to get off this breathing machine. We were all in shock. How could he go in for this minor surgery and die from it? Dick's regular physician came in the next morning and gave us more hope, but the situation was grave.
Mike's only sibling Bob was called; he lives in Oklahoma, to see his father just in case something tragic happens. Dick is single and doesn't have much family left other than a cousin so there weren't many people to call. Bob stayed for several days but had to get back to work and his life. His Dad opened his eyes a few times but we weren't sure if he could understand anything we were saying. Alex came home from college with her boyfriend Stephen when she could, but she was a few hours away and busy with school. Mike and I took turns sitting with him even though he wasn't aware. Between the two of us we were at the hospital two to four times a day. After a month we were both feeling exhausted and stressed. We didn't take much time off of work or school. It became challenging just to keep up with hospital visits along with everyday activities. His hospital stay was during the holidays this coupled with my chemo schedule brought the stress level to an all time high.
All of this proved to be too much for me and my medical timetable. Dr. Bud, upon my request, took me off the Neulasta, the immune enhancing shot administered every three weeks after chemo. The negative side effects of the Neulasta kept my chemo on schedule by bringing my white blood counts up to a point where I could handle the therapy but it also made me very sick. Additionally Dr. Bud changed my chemo calendar to every four weeks instead of every three which gives me a little more time in between therapies to feel good. Right now this is what I need.
After three weeks in the ICU a tracheotomy was performed on Dick. This way he could have the tube run through a hole in his neck rather than his mouth. The sedation medication went to a lower dose but he still could not talk. He opened his eyes here and there but there was no major communication. After five weeks Dick was moved to a step down facility which was further away. This would be where we would spend our Christmas. The girls had a difficult time seeing their grandfather in this condition, especially Frankie. She is deathly afraid of hospitals, too many bad memories of me being in one. They didn't like visiting, but they went because they loved their Grandpa. Neither did I, but I didn't want him left alone. Because this facility was less convenient in regard to distance, Mike and I would take turns going out for visits. I would go in the morning and Mike would go at night. On the weekends we would go together and bring the girls. At this facility they tried weaning him off the vent more vigorously. There were times he could talk, but it took a great deal of energy to do so. He had some real moments of clarity there especially at Christmas time, but they didn't last and he would be put back on the vent.
He was able to complain. He said the nurses paid him no attention until we were there, it was only then that they acted like they cared or came to see what he wanted. Every patient in this place was on a vent. If they were not being cared for properly no one would know because most of them couldn't talk. I witnessed an orderly changing a frail old woman's bed and he was moving the poor thing around like a rag doll. I did complain about that to the nursing staff.
It takes a special person to be good at this type of job. The patients constantly lose their bowels in the beds because they are immobile. Just a few days of that type of work would send most people running away. It was extremely difficult to see Mike's Dad spend his days in this condition. On the drive home I'd call my mom and dad to talk or tell them Dick's health news and one day my own father said, "If I end up like that I hope one of my children has the god damn sense to blow my head off. After seeing Dick day in and day out languishing away like that I have to agree with my dad. I wouldn't want my head blown off, but I wouldn't want to spend my last days like that either.
Christmas 2008 has come and gone. Dick seems no better. One nurse, in confidence, suggested we take him off the vent. He'd seen enough of these cases to know that Dick would never be free of this machine. The Doctors are not concurring with the nurse's opinion. Time will tell, for now there is still a small glimmer of hope and Mike wants to wait and see what happens. Mike and Bob will make this decision together sometime in the near future.
Advice
A negative situation can be a motivating factor to stay on this earth a little longer. When I see my kids in trouble I want to stick around to see them come out of it with flying colors.
When life and problems get to be too overwhelming sit back and think of what is best for you. Stress can put you in harm's way. Consider yourself. Do what is best for you.
Continue to focus on the good in life especially when the sky seems to be falling.
Sometimes you just have to get drunk, or do something that brings you to a happier time in life! I don't recommend it on a steady basis, but every once in a while it's good therapy.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Chapter 31, 2007 Most Significant Moments
Chapter 31, 2007 Most Significant Moments
Alex Graduates
My first child is graduating high school. This is an emotional time for any parent, but for me there is so much more meaning attached to the occasion just because I am here to witness it when no one, including myself, was sure I would be. Elyria Catholic is a small school. Alex's graduating class consists of 140 students or less, a nice size for a graduation ceremony in terms of the time it takes to hand out all the diplomas. Our out of town visitors are my parents from Minnesota and Alex's Godmother Jeanne from Chicago. They, along with me, Mike, Katie, Frankie, Mike's parents, Mike's Mom's friend Chuck all attend the Commencement.
One of the nicest segments of their ceremony comes at the end where each student is given a previous opportunity to tape their favorite quote, saying, or to just say hello and thank you to their parents or teachers for all they've done for them. Some of the recordings were funny while others were tearful and meaningful. Alex's quote dealt with the people you meet in your life; some of them are meant to help you, or to hurt you, or lift you up bringing you to exactly the place you are supposed to be in your life. At the end she thanked me for inspiring her. This was an emotional, overpowering moment for me because of the circumstances of my health, one that I'll never forget.
The day before the graduation we had Alex's graduation party. My Mom, Mike's Mom. Jeanne, my friend Cindy and I all worked hard preparing the food for the celebration. As usual our party guests consisted of neighbors, friends, relatives, in addition to many of Alex's classmates. It started at two and lasted until 11:00. We were exhausted by the end of the day, but Jeanne, and our Mother's stayed and cleaned until every last dish was washed. I was happy to have the party behind us so we could enjoy the rest of the summer attending other graduation parties.
The Fourth Anniversary of my Terminal Diagnosis
June 21, 2007, I've now lived two years longer than originally predicted. Our yearly celebration has become almost common place. We still celebrate and cherish the moment but you can tell that no one is as worried as we were originally. The only time I struggle is the three week interval after each chemo session for 4 to 5 days following the therapy, the first day being the worst followed by improvements everyday up through the 5th day. While I'm in the middle of the negative side effects I can't say that this journey is easy. These are the times I ask myself, "How much longer can I do this?" But then I feel better for a few weeks which gives me the mental courage and strength to push on.
The clinical trial that I am on is going to be closing. It hasn't had the success the drug company hoped for. This was a worldwide level II study done in several countries with a few hundred or more people and I am the only one that the drug has worked for. They are going to make the medicine just for me. Isn't that great? Not just that they are making the drug just for me, but that I'm the last one standing, so to speak. This gets me to thinking, why me? Is it just that I'm genetically disposed for this particular drug to work on my body? That is what many, perhaps most, physicians would say, but in my mind, I wonder if the actions I have taken are contributing to my prolonged existence.
Is it that I have a great desire to live because my kids were so young when I was diagnosed? Or, that my attitude is positive with the fact that I do have some control over how long I can last, or how long I can put up with all of this, because that is a big piece of the puzzle. Perhaps it has to do with the change in my eating habits, gearing them toward healthy choices; including fruits, vegetables, complex carbohydrates and lean proteins. I don't drink heavily, do drugs or smoke cigarettes, this is an obvious plus. I would argue that participating in Yoga has helped me learn to breathe deeply and relax, therefore bringing additional oxygen into my body to help the healing process. Practicing meditation has proved helpful in giving me mental strength by visualizing the uplifting outcomes I want for my body. And the power of prayer gives me confidence in less secure, dark moments. Last, but not least, I do not discount the medicine; if I did I wouldn't be doing it.
I don't claim to know exactly why I'm still here while others have passed. Their will to live may have been just as strong as mine and perhaps they made many of the same types of changes to no avail. I'm not an expert. The feeling in my heart pushes me toward the path that I am currently on. I continue to pray for guidance in traveling down the right road for my health.
The Death of one of my best friends
Della Garcia was a good friend from the time that I met her in 1985 until her death in 2007. If you recall from an earlier chapter Della was Mike's client and friend first, but soon after we met she became my friend, client and confidant.
She was an Administrative Assistant and jack of all trades to the founder and CEO of Information Resources, Inc. in Chicago, Illinois, a company she started working for in the late 70's when they had just seven people. By the 80's this little company employed hundreds of workers and went public. Della's job also included purchasing office furniture to the tune of millions of dollars. She not only held this full time position which she worked tirelessly at, but took care of the CEO's properties in Chicago, Florida and Aspen, arranging for them to be cleaned, stocked with food for incoming visitors and taking care of needed repairs, etc., all of this for a hefty salary, and stock options. This woman was an absolute perfectionist and there weren’t many that could hold a candle to her. She wasn't the most popular person because she demanded flawlessness from everyone she dealt with including Mike and me but Mike's a perfectionist and I'm a pleaser so we all worked well together.
I forgot to add that In addition to her work, she lived at home, still single at 40 and took her mother to dialysis three times a week at some ungodly early hour of the morning. I don't know how she did it. All of my friends seem to be hard working, nose to the grindstone, overachievers. The way I pick a friend or a mate, I might add, is first by admiration. I see something in them that perhaps I don't see in myself, a quality that I'd like to have and then we just seem to balance one another out because I'm usually good at things that they are not. This practice seems to work in a marriage or a friendship.
After the company Della worked for went public and she suffered the loss of her mother she began to change her life and her priorities. The founder of the company left his position to become a board member and she gained a new boss, one that she did not care for as much. The love she had for the job eventually faded and she decided to quit. She wanted to do something that brought her more meaning. She found herself accepting a position at the Salvation Army in disaster relief, for a fraction of her previous salary. True to form she worked diligently at the new job putting in just as many hours or more. There are not many people that would give up the lavish lifestyle she enjoyed to help others. If this woman wasn't already on a pedestal she was now. She also, as she put it, finally found love in this late stage of life. He was an officer in the Army. They worked side by side for a few years before they fell in love and married.
Della started losing weight and was constantly racked with thirst. After many tests she was told she had Diabetes. Within a few years she herself had to go on dialysis. Her health continued to deteriorate. After experiencing persistent abdominal pain it was discovered that she had a stage four cancer in her intestines, a large mass which they were able to remove but she needed a colostomy. Once that surgery was complete she had nothing but problems. The colostomy bag backed up to the point that she was full of feces, as she said, they had to steam clean her out and leave her open and exposed to heal. After all that she still had a sense of humor.
They had to wait so long to do chemo that it became futile. We talked often from the time she was diagnosed up to her death, which was just nine months. I was upbeat with my support during our discussions always encouraging her to hold on, but I think she was just tuckered out and tired of fighting a body riddled with disease. My heart was broken upon her death, the only comfort I felt was that she was finally at peace and could rest because she rarely did that when she was alive.
Her funeral was small. There was her husband of ten years, her family of course, two brothers with their families, one sister with her husband and Della's father. Many people were there from the Salvation Army including some of the people she helped get off the streets into jobs or treatment programs. My friend Jeanne accompanied me, Mike and the girls along with Mike and Della's friend Dirk, a previous coworker and short time love interest of Della's. The homeless people she helped got up and spoke about how she changed their lives for the better. I wanted to come forward and speak about what she meant to me but I was too distraught.
Reconnecting with old friends
While we were in Chicago for the memorial service I felt it was important to reconnect with an old friend. For me, funerals cause reflection on the past and the people of significance that have come in and out of my life. Because I was dealing with my own mortality, I wanted to reconnect with a particular friend I hadn't seen in a few years. This friend's name is Annette. We met when I was running a small office sharing company on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. We rented individual offices out to small business owners or start up territory offices while providing them with secretaries and receptionists.
Annette was an entrepreneur who needed space for her company. We connected immediately. She is an industrious, energetic, tiny little woman with bright eyes, a big smile and an entertaining laugh. Most small business owners come with a type "A" personality and she was no different. They are efficient, they want things done a certain way, they are accomplished, and they are gutsy enough to go out and start their own business. Most of my clients were entrepreneurs and because of these traits could be a challenge to work with and for. I believe it's because they have everything on the line in terms of financial obligations. Annette, however, was a delight. She demanded a great deal from herself but she was respectful and considerate of others. We got along famously. Our offices were right across the hall from one another so we had the opportunity to get to know each other well.
A perfect, hilarious story to describe why I love Annette is as follows; It was a sunny Chicago morning, she was walking down the street in her, as she puts it, typical type "A" walk, fast and efficient, head held high with shoulders back when a guy approached her from behind, tapping her shoulder, saying, "Ma'am", she thought he wanted money or a conversation which she didn't have time for so she politely smiled, nodded, sped up her gate and continued on. The gentleman was persistent in getting her attention. She finally in a politically correct, yet curt way, asked, "What?" He said, "I'm sorry but your dress is stuck in your panty hose with a tail of toilet paper hanging down to the ground." She gasped in horror, pulled out her dress, threw the toilet paper down, thanked the man and practically sprinted down the busy Michigan Avenue.
We were fortunate enough to sit down and have lunch with one another, going over old stories from our past and thoughts of the future. Mike and the girls joined us for the light conversation and laughter. The smiles and warmth I experienced during our meal were a stark contrast to the funeral from the day before. Each experience, however, was equally important.
Alex Goes to College
I imagine it is a tearful emotional time when anyone of your kids leaves for college, but when it's your oldest child you have the additional experience of the "first time" so you don't know what emotions to expect. It is late September 2007 and we are packing up to take Alex to Ohio State. She has been chomping at the bit to get out of this town because most of her counterparts have already left for the schools of their choice. Alex and her Father have been purchasing dorm room accessories all summer to prepare her for this moment.
The car is packed in typical Mike Wetzel fashion, perfectly organized with every single item in the right place. Once the car is packed, the rest of us pile into the car for the two hour trip. Most kids will be arriving at school on Sunday, but Mike pays an additional nominal fee so Alex can move in on Saturday to beat the rush. We arrive to a hustle bustle of other parents and kids beating the rush as well, unloading cars, waiting for moving bins, riding up and down in slow moving elevators until every last bit of her belongings are in her 11th floor room.
Alex's roommate Chelsea is also already in the room unpacking with her parents putting away clothes, making beds, installing computer equipment and so on. There is little room for all of us to navigate, but after we introduce ourselves we make do with the room until every last item is unpacked and stored away in the right place. Inevitably, we have forgotten a few small items here and there so we jump in the car and head for Target. This place is a zoo populated with the rest of the college world and their parents doing the same thing. I can just hear the simulated totaling of cash registers as the monies spent just keep racking up. Yes, that's me, always thinking about the almighty dollar.
Back at the dorm Mike works his computer and printer magic, swearing and cussing under his breath because the "mother fuckers" as he so eloquently puts it, are not working. Much time is spent on this project until we are exhausted by the work and the late hour. I am especially tired and sick because I had chemo the day before, but I try to rally and stay focused because this is such a monumental time in all of our lives. The labor is done! It is time for us to leave Alex behind and go home. Leave this girl who at three would not let go of my neck, kicking and screaming on her first day at pre-school, or at five, pulling on my arms begging me not to make her stay on her first day of kindergarten. It is almost a good thing that I feel so physically ill, because it is overpowering the emotional pain of letting her go.
The drive home is silent either with reminiscing thoughts or with sleep. The realization of Alex not being around brings a few silent tears to my eyes. On one hand there is a feeling of happiness to see my first born venturing off to this new chapter in her life, but on the other hand, I know I'll miss seeing her around the house, working out, sitting on the couch, watching her study and sharing an early morning or late night conversation.
Advice
Cherish a sad moment as well as a happy one; it's all about you being there in the moment
Reach out to others in need of your help. You never know who you are going to help motivate, or be motivated for that matter
Keep your eyes on the prize, a graduation, seeing your children leave the nest or the simple possibility of seeing another day
Believe in your own choices and put all your strength and courage toward them
See an old friend, especially one that has brought you enjoyment
Alex Graduates
My first child is graduating high school. This is an emotional time for any parent, but for me there is so much more meaning attached to the occasion just because I am here to witness it when no one, including myself, was sure I would be. Elyria Catholic is a small school. Alex's graduating class consists of 140 students or less, a nice size for a graduation ceremony in terms of the time it takes to hand out all the diplomas. Our out of town visitors are my parents from Minnesota and Alex's Godmother Jeanne from Chicago. They, along with me, Mike, Katie, Frankie, Mike's parents, Mike's Mom's friend Chuck all attend the Commencement.
One of the nicest segments of their ceremony comes at the end where each student is given a previous opportunity to tape their favorite quote, saying, or to just say hello and thank you to their parents or teachers for all they've done for them. Some of the recordings were funny while others were tearful and meaningful. Alex's quote dealt with the people you meet in your life; some of them are meant to help you, or to hurt you, or lift you up bringing you to exactly the place you are supposed to be in your life. At the end she thanked me for inspiring her. This was an emotional, overpowering moment for me because of the circumstances of my health, one that I'll never forget.
The day before the graduation we had Alex's graduation party. My Mom, Mike's Mom. Jeanne, my friend Cindy and I all worked hard preparing the food for the celebration. As usual our party guests consisted of neighbors, friends, relatives, in addition to many of Alex's classmates. It started at two and lasted until 11:00. We were exhausted by the end of the day, but Jeanne, and our Mother's stayed and cleaned until every last dish was washed. I was happy to have the party behind us so we could enjoy the rest of the summer attending other graduation parties.
The Fourth Anniversary of my Terminal Diagnosis
June 21, 2007, I've now lived two years longer than originally predicted. Our yearly celebration has become almost common place. We still celebrate and cherish the moment but you can tell that no one is as worried as we were originally. The only time I struggle is the three week interval after each chemo session for 4 to 5 days following the therapy, the first day being the worst followed by improvements everyday up through the 5th day. While I'm in the middle of the negative side effects I can't say that this journey is easy. These are the times I ask myself, "How much longer can I do this?" But then I feel better for a few weeks which gives me the mental courage and strength to push on.
The clinical trial that I am on is going to be closing. It hasn't had the success the drug company hoped for. This was a worldwide level II study done in several countries with a few hundred or more people and I am the only one that the drug has worked for. They are going to make the medicine just for me. Isn't that great? Not just that they are making the drug just for me, but that I'm the last one standing, so to speak. This gets me to thinking, why me? Is it just that I'm genetically disposed for this particular drug to work on my body? That is what many, perhaps most, physicians would say, but in my mind, I wonder if the actions I have taken are contributing to my prolonged existence.
Is it that I have a great desire to live because my kids were so young when I was diagnosed? Or, that my attitude is positive with the fact that I do have some control over how long I can last, or how long I can put up with all of this, because that is a big piece of the puzzle. Perhaps it has to do with the change in my eating habits, gearing them toward healthy choices; including fruits, vegetables, complex carbohydrates and lean proteins. I don't drink heavily, do drugs or smoke cigarettes, this is an obvious plus. I would argue that participating in Yoga has helped me learn to breathe deeply and relax, therefore bringing additional oxygen into my body to help the healing process. Practicing meditation has proved helpful in giving me mental strength by visualizing the uplifting outcomes I want for my body. And the power of prayer gives me confidence in less secure, dark moments. Last, but not least, I do not discount the medicine; if I did I wouldn't be doing it.
I don't claim to know exactly why I'm still here while others have passed. Their will to live may have been just as strong as mine and perhaps they made many of the same types of changes to no avail. I'm not an expert. The feeling in my heart pushes me toward the path that I am currently on. I continue to pray for guidance in traveling down the right road for my health.
The Death of one of my best friends
Della Garcia was a good friend from the time that I met her in 1985 until her death in 2007. If you recall from an earlier chapter Della was Mike's client and friend first, but soon after we met she became my friend, client and confidant.
She was an Administrative Assistant and jack of all trades to the founder and CEO of Information Resources, Inc. in Chicago, Illinois, a company she started working for in the late 70's when they had just seven people. By the 80's this little company employed hundreds of workers and went public. Della's job also included purchasing office furniture to the tune of millions of dollars. She not only held this full time position which she worked tirelessly at, but took care of the CEO's properties in Chicago, Florida and Aspen, arranging for them to be cleaned, stocked with food for incoming visitors and taking care of needed repairs, etc., all of this for a hefty salary, and stock options. This woman was an absolute perfectionist and there weren’t many that could hold a candle to her. She wasn't the most popular person because she demanded flawlessness from everyone she dealt with including Mike and me but Mike's a perfectionist and I'm a pleaser so we all worked well together.
I forgot to add that In addition to her work, she lived at home, still single at 40 and took her mother to dialysis three times a week at some ungodly early hour of the morning. I don't know how she did it. All of my friends seem to be hard working, nose to the grindstone, overachievers. The way I pick a friend or a mate, I might add, is first by admiration. I see something in them that perhaps I don't see in myself, a quality that I'd like to have and then we just seem to balance one another out because I'm usually good at things that they are not. This practice seems to work in a marriage or a friendship.
After the company Della worked for went public and she suffered the loss of her mother she began to change her life and her priorities. The founder of the company left his position to become a board member and she gained a new boss, one that she did not care for as much. The love she had for the job eventually faded and she decided to quit. She wanted to do something that brought her more meaning. She found herself accepting a position at the Salvation Army in disaster relief, for a fraction of her previous salary. True to form she worked diligently at the new job putting in just as many hours or more. There are not many people that would give up the lavish lifestyle she enjoyed to help others. If this woman wasn't already on a pedestal she was now. She also, as she put it, finally found love in this late stage of life. He was an officer in the Army. They worked side by side for a few years before they fell in love and married.
Della started losing weight and was constantly racked with thirst. After many tests she was told she had Diabetes. Within a few years she herself had to go on dialysis. Her health continued to deteriorate. After experiencing persistent abdominal pain it was discovered that she had a stage four cancer in her intestines, a large mass which they were able to remove but she needed a colostomy. Once that surgery was complete she had nothing but problems. The colostomy bag backed up to the point that she was full of feces, as she said, they had to steam clean her out and leave her open and exposed to heal. After all that she still had a sense of humor.
They had to wait so long to do chemo that it became futile. We talked often from the time she was diagnosed up to her death, which was just nine months. I was upbeat with my support during our discussions always encouraging her to hold on, but I think she was just tuckered out and tired of fighting a body riddled with disease. My heart was broken upon her death, the only comfort I felt was that she was finally at peace and could rest because she rarely did that when she was alive.
Her funeral was small. There was her husband of ten years, her family of course, two brothers with their families, one sister with her husband and Della's father. Many people were there from the Salvation Army including some of the people she helped get off the streets into jobs or treatment programs. My friend Jeanne accompanied me, Mike and the girls along with Mike and Della's friend Dirk, a previous coworker and short time love interest of Della's. The homeless people she helped got up and spoke about how she changed their lives for the better. I wanted to come forward and speak about what she meant to me but I was too distraught.
Reconnecting with old friends
While we were in Chicago for the memorial service I felt it was important to reconnect with an old friend. For me, funerals cause reflection on the past and the people of significance that have come in and out of my life. Because I was dealing with my own mortality, I wanted to reconnect with a particular friend I hadn't seen in a few years. This friend's name is Annette. We met when I was running a small office sharing company on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. We rented individual offices out to small business owners or start up territory offices while providing them with secretaries and receptionists.
Annette was an entrepreneur who needed space for her company. We connected immediately. She is an industrious, energetic, tiny little woman with bright eyes, a big smile and an entertaining laugh. Most small business owners come with a type "A" personality and she was no different. They are efficient, they want things done a certain way, they are accomplished, and they are gutsy enough to go out and start their own business. Most of my clients were entrepreneurs and because of these traits could be a challenge to work with and for. I believe it's because they have everything on the line in terms of financial obligations. Annette, however, was a delight. She demanded a great deal from herself but she was respectful and considerate of others. We got along famously. Our offices were right across the hall from one another so we had the opportunity to get to know each other well.
A perfect, hilarious story to describe why I love Annette is as follows; It was a sunny Chicago morning, she was walking down the street in her, as she puts it, typical type "A" walk, fast and efficient, head held high with shoulders back when a guy approached her from behind, tapping her shoulder, saying, "Ma'am", she thought he wanted money or a conversation which she didn't have time for so she politely smiled, nodded, sped up her gate and continued on. The gentleman was persistent in getting her attention. She finally in a politically correct, yet curt way, asked, "What?" He said, "I'm sorry but your dress is stuck in your panty hose with a tail of toilet paper hanging down to the ground." She gasped in horror, pulled out her dress, threw the toilet paper down, thanked the man and practically sprinted down the busy Michigan Avenue.
We were fortunate enough to sit down and have lunch with one another, going over old stories from our past and thoughts of the future. Mike and the girls joined us for the light conversation and laughter. The smiles and warmth I experienced during our meal were a stark contrast to the funeral from the day before. Each experience, however, was equally important.
Alex Goes to College
I imagine it is a tearful emotional time when anyone of your kids leaves for college, but when it's your oldest child you have the additional experience of the "first time" so you don't know what emotions to expect. It is late September 2007 and we are packing up to take Alex to Ohio State. She has been chomping at the bit to get out of this town because most of her counterparts have already left for the schools of their choice. Alex and her Father have been purchasing dorm room accessories all summer to prepare her for this moment.
The car is packed in typical Mike Wetzel fashion, perfectly organized with every single item in the right place. Once the car is packed, the rest of us pile into the car for the two hour trip. Most kids will be arriving at school on Sunday, but Mike pays an additional nominal fee so Alex can move in on Saturday to beat the rush. We arrive to a hustle bustle of other parents and kids beating the rush as well, unloading cars, waiting for moving bins, riding up and down in slow moving elevators until every last bit of her belongings are in her 11th floor room.
Alex's roommate Chelsea is also already in the room unpacking with her parents putting away clothes, making beds, installing computer equipment and so on. There is little room for all of us to navigate, but after we introduce ourselves we make do with the room until every last item is unpacked and stored away in the right place. Inevitably, we have forgotten a few small items here and there so we jump in the car and head for Target. This place is a zoo populated with the rest of the college world and their parents doing the same thing. I can just hear the simulated totaling of cash registers as the monies spent just keep racking up. Yes, that's me, always thinking about the almighty dollar.
Back at the dorm Mike works his computer and printer magic, swearing and cussing under his breath because the "mother fuckers" as he so eloquently puts it, are not working. Much time is spent on this project until we are exhausted by the work and the late hour. I am especially tired and sick because I had chemo the day before, but I try to rally and stay focused because this is such a monumental time in all of our lives. The labor is done! It is time for us to leave Alex behind and go home. Leave this girl who at three would not let go of my neck, kicking and screaming on her first day at pre-school, or at five, pulling on my arms begging me not to make her stay on her first day of kindergarten. It is almost a good thing that I feel so physically ill, because it is overpowering the emotional pain of letting her go.
The drive home is silent either with reminiscing thoughts or with sleep. The realization of Alex not being around brings a few silent tears to my eyes. On one hand there is a feeling of happiness to see my first born venturing off to this new chapter in her life, but on the other hand, I know I'll miss seeing her around the house, working out, sitting on the couch, watching her study and sharing an early morning or late night conversation.
Advice
Cherish a sad moment as well as a happy one; it's all about you being there in the moment
Reach out to others in need of your help. You never know who you are going to help motivate, or be motivated for that matter
Keep your eyes on the prize, a graduation, seeing your children leave the nest or the simple possibility of seeing another day
Believe in your own choices and put all your strength and courage toward them
See an old friend, especially one that has brought you enjoyment
Monday, March 7, 2011
Chapter 30, 2006 Highlights
Chapter 30, some of the many reasons to keep on pushing on -Highlights 2006
Time just keeps passing by and I'm still here for the ride! Mike continues to be hard working focusing on whatever needs to be done. The kids are growing up and I'm happy to be here for every significant event such as; teaching them how to drive, watching them with their first "serious" boyfriend, or regrettably witnessing their first break up, or even picking out dresses for junior high and high school dances, and unfortunately finding out about their first drink.
Driving
Alex was sure to be at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles the second she could to get her drivers Learning Permit. We arrived at the BMV directly following school but were unable to get the permit. Apparently, to get your permit you need your original birth certificate and not the copy which is what we had. This created a meltdown of epic proportions since it would take a few days to get the original and she wanted that license the very day she turned 16. Who knew this young woman could be so determined, another indication that she is a lot like her father.
A few days later the birth certificate arrived and Alex was in the business of practice driving with me as the passenger. What do you get when you mix fear along with determination, Alex Wetzel driving down the road. The weather was wet with rain and it was dark for her first driving experience. As she approached a descending, winding hill in our town she failed to let up on the gas until I asked her to. When we got to the bottom we weren't moving, in an excited voice I told her to give it some gas but she started screaming, she couldn't find the pedal. Alas, it was down there, she found it and we were on our way back up the other side of the hill. Whew!
Aside from a few mishaps with my car like scraping the side of the garage or grazing the car against a small scenic one lane bridge in our town, she did ok driving. After Alex completed 50 practice hours of road time and she turned 16 she was ready to take her in car driving test. In most cases, if someone is going to flunk the test, they flunk the maneuverability portion of the exam, but not Alex, she passed the maneuverability with absolutely no problem but flunked the street test because she was too cautious on the road. Devastated by her failure, she was back again as soon as possible to pass with flying colors. That's Alex, a strong minded goal orientated closer.
Katie's driving experience was much different. If you've not already discovered through my writing she has the qualities of a barely 5' person, large in personality and in charge, she comes across as a strong independent young woman unafraid of anything, or anyone, which is actually just a facade, but that's how she appears to the unsuspecting. Katie waited about three months longer than she needed to get her Driver's permit. Was it because she didn't care to drive? Hard to believe from this independent girl, or was she afraid to get behind the wheel. She'll never tell. This girl keeps everything so tight to her vest. Katie finally got her license on the first try and became crazy lady driver of the century! A friend of mine phoned me one day to say that Katie was airborne while crossing Gulf Road at 57, an intersection by her school which she inevitably was going to be late for.
Katie, again running late for school, ripped off the side view mirror while pulling out of the driveway on a plastic garbage can. I contend she had to be backing out at Mario Andretti speed to accomplish that. "No Mom, I wasn't going that fast!" She also got slightly t-boned while taking a left onto our street, but she wasn't texting while driving. "I swear Mom, I wasn't texting, that car just came out of nowhere." Thank God we have a few years before Frankie hits the driving age.
Dances
Shopping for school dance dresses seems like an occasion for a mother and a daughter to bond, you know share the day with one another, go out for lunch, buy new shoes and just get giddy over how much fun they are going to have at the dance. This has not exactly been my experience or my daughter's. Mike really should be the one taking them out to purchase dresses because he is willing to shell out a little extra for just the right item or items. The girls wouldn't fight as much with him!
If I'm your Mom, there are so many areas for possible arguments when shopping for dance dresses. First we have the price of the dress. I've discussed my frugal ways and the kid's annoyance with it. They always want something more expensive than I am willing to pay. Remember, this is an item that is probably going to get just one wearing. Then we consider style. It can't be too low, tight or short. A lot of time is spent on this negotiable area. When we've found just the right dress, we purchase it and move on to the shoe argument. "Can't you wear a pair of shoes from home?" I ask. Sometimes that works and other times we have to buy the shoes, again with the cheapness, I'm all over it. We get the least expensive most acceptable pair of shoes. Jewelry? Who needs to accessorize? One more area I don't have a lot of practice in. I constantly wear the same trinkets; no accessory awards for me.
On occasion, the girls have been able to wear dresses or shoes handed down by their sisters, but because they are not the same size it doesn't happen often. Katie, bless her heart, rigged a pair of Alex's old shoes by using hair ties on the straps to fit her better, a kid after my own heart. Too bad that didn't last long. Her standards have risen and she insists on things that fit properly now. Arguments or not, it is still a joy to be here to partake in the rituals of family life.
Boyfriends
Alex was in the 11th grade before she had her first serious boyfriend. In the 9th grade she thought there was something wrong with her because every time a boy started to like her and possibly want kiss her, she would get a tight feeling in her chest and not be able to go through with the kiss or having a boyfriend. I asked, "Do you like boys?" "Yes Mom, I'm not a lesbian!" was her response. I answered her by saying, "When it's the right time and the right person you won't feel those negative feelings, it will just feel right."
A few years later Alex was obviously ready for a boyfriend. He was over for a visit and Frankie was sent by her Father to tell them it was time for the guy to go home, much to Frankie's shock, they were making out, without disturbing Alex, Frankie ran to express her concern to Mike. The next day she voiced the same concern to me. "I thought Alex was a good girl," was how she started the conversation. Feeling shock, I asked why she would say that, after hearing about the make out session I asked, "Did they have clothes on?" "That's the same thing Dad asked me," she said," and yuck, yes they had clothes on." After sigh of relief, I explained to Frankie that it was normal to kiss your boyfriend, with your clothes on of course, and she wasn't being bad, it's normal to kiss the person you are dating.
I wouldn't say that Katie had a serious boyfriend, but she sincerely cared for someone who found his way into another girl's arms; this devastated her enough to never want to get too terribly involved with any boy. She is however only in the tenth grade her feelings are sure to change. Frankie is still at the age where you go out with a boy but you don't go anywhere. I can wait a few years to see her get involved with the opposite sex.
Drinking
Alex and I were driving home from an appointment when I expressed my pride in the decisions she has made thus far in her young life. She works hard at school, she has a job two days a week she dances three to four days a week and she has not gotten involved in teenage drinking. Silence filled the air for a few long minutes until she blurts out with tears. "I have gotten drunk!" "It was a few weeks after Junior Ring, it was the first time and I puked my guts out. I swear I have not done it since." Sigh! I love a good confession. Alex always knows the right time to come clean about everything. I didn't yell at her, just listened, and thanked her for being honest with me. Adding on that it was a really good thing that she puked her guts out! Puking is a great consequence for drinking too much! Hopefully she learned her lesson
The second kid's life experiences seem to happen at an earlier age than the first, except for maybe driving. Katie experimented with drinking in the tenth grade. I didn't find out about this incident until well after the fact. Mum's the word on how I found out. I have my ways. Apparently, Alex and her friends took care of Katie during her stupor, cleaned her up, again, puking was involved, and put her to bed. Teenage drinking is not something I promote. I did it, many kids do, but there is such a rite of passage about it and it seems all too often to get out of control. If my children, at the appropriate age, drank like me, socially, never out of control, I wouldn't mind, but that isn't the case with kids. This is another area of experience that Frankie is too young for. Let's hope it stays that way for several years.
Anniversaries
We celebrated the third anniversary of my terminal diagnosis with our traditional KFC, beer and additional food accessories. My friend Cindy brought her husband Bruce this year, an outgoing funny guy who can liven up any party by his amusing personality. He kept us laughing while relaying the story of his first meeting with Cindy. After seeing her voluptuous behind and pretty face he knew she would be his bride someday, he simulated her sexy walk for us which made us all smile. As we laugh and talk we also acknowledge that I've lasted a year longer than my original prognosis. We take the time to give thanks for that and enjoy the evening with one another. We also celebrated the 1 year anniversary of my time on the clinical trial drug which continues to keep the cancer at bay. This year also marks the 20th wedding anniversary for Mike and me. There are so many experiences to be grateful for.
My 50th Birthday
In March of this year I was fortunate enough to celebrate my 50th birthday. The following summer my family decided to throw a combination party celebrating my 50th birthday, my Dad's 80th birthday, Alex's 17th birthday Frankie's 12th birthday our 20th anniversary and a family reunion all at the same time. This was all a surprise to me. I should have had a clue when my out of town family members started arriving saying they just wanted to surprise me with a visit. I expected my parents but soon my sister Angie and her family appeared just as a surprise and then my sister Paddy and her daughter Samantha arrived from California. People just kept appearing. On the day of the party Angie and Paddy took me and my Mother out to get a massage, manicure and pedicure while the other's prepared for the party. Upon arriving home and turning down my street I saw our driveway full of people and a catering truck. I wanted to turn around and peel out of there. Being the center of attention is not the most comfortable position for me. Accepting the kindness of others humbles me to my core. As I got out of the car I said, "I am still going to be here next year!"
There were so many people there from the kids' friends to our neighbors and coworkers, school friends and best friends from in and out of town. Many of my siblings and their families, Mike's brother Bob, his wife Mae, their kids and grandchild all the way from Oklahoma, my brother Shane, his wife Amy and their three kids from Arkansas. Mike's Aunts from Pennsylvania, my sister Kim her husband Joe and my niece Kelsey as well as Sister's Maureen, her family was unable to make it, accompanied by my oldest sister Kerry with her newly adopted daughter Rubina. My sister Mary and her husband Pete along with their son Jack made it out for the celebration as well.
Even though I was uncomfortable, the party was a huge success. The food was good, the weather was beautiful and there just seemed to be joy in the air for me. I am a fortunate woman to have so many nice people show up for me. This was an uplifting moment that would carry me mentally for awhile.
Advice
Treasure negotiating the essentials when buying a dance dress for your daughter; try not to cave on your values even if you're not feeling well. Make the day special.
Have empathy for your kids experiences like learning how to drive. Don't be scared even if you don't have a brake pedal on the passenger side.
Handle your kid's negative situations with care, especially if they make a confession to you. Their acknowledgement of a harmful behavior is a huge step. Let them know they can always come to you without fear.
Enjoy a wonderful party whether for you or someone else. Cherish the personalities you see there and the moments you have with them.
Continue to celebrate all the anniversaries in your life.
Time just keeps passing by and I'm still here for the ride! Mike continues to be hard working focusing on whatever needs to be done. The kids are growing up and I'm happy to be here for every significant event such as; teaching them how to drive, watching them with their first "serious" boyfriend, or regrettably witnessing their first break up, or even picking out dresses for junior high and high school dances, and unfortunately finding out about their first drink.
Driving
Alex was sure to be at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles the second she could to get her drivers Learning Permit. We arrived at the BMV directly following school but were unable to get the permit. Apparently, to get your permit you need your original birth certificate and not the copy which is what we had. This created a meltdown of epic proportions since it would take a few days to get the original and she wanted that license the very day she turned 16. Who knew this young woman could be so determined, another indication that she is a lot like her father.
A few days later the birth certificate arrived and Alex was in the business of practice driving with me as the passenger. What do you get when you mix fear along with determination, Alex Wetzel driving down the road. The weather was wet with rain and it was dark for her first driving experience. As she approached a descending, winding hill in our town she failed to let up on the gas until I asked her to. When we got to the bottom we weren't moving, in an excited voice I told her to give it some gas but she started screaming, she couldn't find the pedal. Alas, it was down there, she found it and we were on our way back up the other side of the hill. Whew!
Aside from a few mishaps with my car like scraping the side of the garage or grazing the car against a small scenic one lane bridge in our town, she did ok driving. After Alex completed 50 practice hours of road time and she turned 16 she was ready to take her in car driving test. In most cases, if someone is going to flunk the test, they flunk the maneuverability portion of the exam, but not Alex, she passed the maneuverability with absolutely no problem but flunked the street test because she was too cautious on the road. Devastated by her failure, she was back again as soon as possible to pass with flying colors. That's Alex, a strong minded goal orientated closer.
Katie's driving experience was much different. If you've not already discovered through my writing she has the qualities of a barely 5' person, large in personality and in charge, she comes across as a strong independent young woman unafraid of anything, or anyone, which is actually just a facade, but that's how she appears to the unsuspecting. Katie waited about three months longer than she needed to get her Driver's permit. Was it because she didn't care to drive? Hard to believe from this independent girl, or was she afraid to get behind the wheel. She'll never tell. This girl keeps everything so tight to her vest. Katie finally got her license on the first try and became crazy lady driver of the century! A friend of mine phoned me one day to say that Katie was airborne while crossing Gulf Road at 57, an intersection by her school which she inevitably was going to be late for.
Katie, again running late for school, ripped off the side view mirror while pulling out of the driveway on a plastic garbage can. I contend she had to be backing out at Mario Andretti speed to accomplish that. "No Mom, I wasn't going that fast!" She also got slightly t-boned while taking a left onto our street, but she wasn't texting while driving. "I swear Mom, I wasn't texting, that car just came out of nowhere." Thank God we have a few years before Frankie hits the driving age.
Dances
Shopping for school dance dresses seems like an occasion for a mother and a daughter to bond, you know share the day with one another, go out for lunch, buy new shoes and just get giddy over how much fun they are going to have at the dance. This has not exactly been my experience or my daughter's. Mike really should be the one taking them out to purchase dresses because he is willing to shell out a little extra for just the right item or items. The girls wouldn't fight as much with him!
If I'm your Mom, there are so many areas for possible arguments when shopping for dance dresses. First we have the price of the dress. I've discussed my frugal ways and the kid's annoyance with it. They always want something more expensive than I am willing to pay. Remember, this is an item that is probably going to get just one wearing. Then we consider style. It can't be too low, tight or short. A lot of time is spent on this negotiable area. When we've found just the right dress, we purchase it and move on to the shoe argument. "Can't you wear a pair of shoes from home?" I ask. Sometimes that works and other times we have to buy the shoes, again with the cheapness, I'm all over it. We get the least expensive most acceptable pair of shoes. Jewelry? Who needs to accessorize? One more area I don't have a lot of practice in. I constantly wear the same trinkets; no accessory awards for me.
On occasion, the girls have been able to wear dresses or shoes handed down by their sisters, but because they are not the same size it doesn't happen often. Katie, bless her heart, rigged a pair of Alex's old shoes by using hair ties on the straps to fit her better, a kid after my own heart. Too bad that didn't last long. Her standards have risen and she insists on things that fit properly now. Arguments or not, it is still a joy to be here to partake in the rituals of family life.
Boyfriends
Alex was in the 11th grade before she had her first serious boyfriend. In the 9th grade she thought there was something wrong with her because every time a boy started to like her and possibly want kiss her, she would get a tight feeling in her chest and not be able to go through with the kiss or having a boyfriend. I asked, "Do you like boys?" "Yes Mom, I'm not a lesbian!" was her response. I answered her by saying, "When it's the right time and the right person you won't feel those negative feelings, it will just feel right."
A few years later Alex was obviously ready for a boyfriend. He was over for a visit and Frankie was sent by her Father to tell them it was time for the guy to go home, much to Frankie's shock, they were making out, without disturbing Alex, Frankie ran to express her concern to Mike. The next day she voiced the same concern to me. "I thought Alex was a good girl," was how she started the conversation. Feeling shock, I asked why she would say that, after hearing about the make out session I asked, "Did they have clothes on?" "That's the same thing Dad asked me," she said," and yuck, yes they had clothes on." After sigh of relief, I explained to Frankie that it was normal to kiss your boyfriend, with your clothes on of course, and she wasn't being bad, it's normal to kiss the person you are dating.
I wouldn't say that Katie had a serious boyfriend, but she sincerely cared for someone who found his way into another girl's arms; this devastated her enough to never want to get too terribly involved with any boy. She is however only in the tenth grade her feelings are sure to change. Frankie is still at the age where you go out with a boy but you don't go anywhere. I can wait a few years to see her get involved with the opposite sex.
Drinking
Alex and I were driving home from an appointment when I expressed my pride in the decisions she has made thus far in her young life. She works hard at school, she has a job two days a week she dances three to four days a week and she has not gotten involved in teenage drinking. Silence filled the air for a few long minutes until she blurts out with tears. "I have gotten drunk!" "It was a few weeks after Junior Ring, it was the first time and I puked my guts out. I swear I have not done it since." Sigh! I love a good confession. Alex always knows the right time to come clean about everything. I didn't yell at her, just listened, and thanked her for being honest with me. Adding on that it was a really good thing that she puked her guts out! Puking is a great consequence for drinking too much! Hopefully she learned her lesson
The second kid's life experiences seem to happen at an earlier age than the first, except for maybe driving. Katie experimented with drinking in the tenth grade. I didn't find out about this incident until well after the fact. Mum's the word on how I found out. I have my ways. Apparently, Alex and her friends took care of Katie during her stupor, cleaned her up, again, puking was involved, and put her to bed. Teenage drinking is not something I promote. I did it, many kids do, but there is such a rite of passage about it and it seems all too often to get out of control. If my children, at the appropriate age, drank like me, socially, never out of control, I wouldn't mind, but that isn't the case with kids. This is another area of experience that Frankie is too young for. Let's hope it stays that way for several years.
Anniversaries
We celebrated the third anniversary of my terminal diagnosis with our traditional KFC, beer and additional food accessories. My friend Cindy brought her husband Bruce this year, an outgoing funny guy who can liven up any party by his amusing personality. He kept us laughing while relaying the story of his first meeting with Cindy. After seeing her voluptuous behind and pretty face he knew she would be his bride someday, he simulated her sexy walk for us which made us all smile. As we laugh and talk we also acknowledge that I've lasted a year longer than my original prognosis. We take the time to give thanks for that and enjoy the evening with one another. We also celebrated the 1 year anniversary of my time on the clinical trial drug which continues to keep the cancer at bay. This year also marks the 20th wedding anniversary for Mike and me. There are so many experiences to be grateful for.
My 50th Birthday
In March of this year I was fortunate enough to celebrate my 50th birthday. The following summer my family decided to throw a combination party celebrating my 50th birthday, my Dad's 80th birthday, Alex's 17th birthday Frankie's 12th birthday our 20th anniversary and a family reunion all at the same time. This was all a surprise to me. I should have had a clue when my out of town family members started arriving saying they just wanted to surprise me with a visit. I expected my parents but soon my sister Angie and her family appeared just as a surprise and then my sister Paddy and her daughter Samantha arrived from California. People just kept appearing. On the day of the party Angie and Paddy took me and my Mother out to get a massage, manicure and pedicure while the other's prepared for the party. Upon arriving home and turning down my street I saw our driveway full of people and a catering truck. I wanted to turn around and peel out of there. Being the center of attention is not the most comfortable position for me. Accepting the kindness of others humbles me to my core. As I got out of the car I said, "I am still going to be here next year!"
There were so many people there from the kids' friends to our neighbors and coworkers, school friends and best friends from in and out of town. Many of my siblings and their families, Mike's brother Bob, his wife Mae, their kids and grandchild all the way from Oklahoma, my brother Shane, his wife Amy and their three kids from Arkansas. Mike's Aunts from Pennsylvania, my sister Kim her husband Joe and my niece Kelsey as well as Sister's Maureen, her family was unable to make it, accompanied by my oldest sister Kerry with her newly adopted daughter Rubina. My sister Mary and her husband Pete along with their son Jack made it out for the celebration as well.
Even though I was uncomfortable, the party was a huge success. The food was good, the weather was beautiful and there just seemed to be joy in the air for me. I am a fortunate woman to have so many nice people show up for me. This was an uplifting moment that would carry me mentally for awhile.
Advice
Treasure negotiating the essentials when buying a dance dress for your daughter; try not to cave on your values even if you're not feeling well. Make the day special.
Have empathy for your kids experiences like learning how to drive. Don't be scared even if you don't have a brake pedal on the passenger side.
Handle your kid's negative situations with care, especially if they make a confession to you. Their acknowledgement of a harmful behavior is a huge step. Let them know they can always come to you without fear.
Enjoy a wonderful party whether for you or someone else. Cherish the personalities you see there and the moments you have with them.
Continue to celebrate all the anniversaries in your life.
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