Sister

My dear sister has had a very bad run of things lately. She went in on March 15th for back surgery. One week later, they had to go back in for infection and to readjust some of the screws. It was then that they discovered she had MRSA, a very hard to kill infection that requires at least 6 weeks of IV antibiotic treatment. Two days ago, her fever spiked again and the doctor, for the third time, opened up her back to clean out infection. It is not fair. It is not fair. It is not fair. My poor sister only wanted to be able to walk without pain. She merely wanted to be able to bend over and pick up the laundry basket without wailing. She wanted to be able to travel to Augusta to see her family without ending her journey in tears. It's not fair that she has had such a terrible time.
I worry for her daily. I call every day to track her progress in hopes that one day I'll call and she'll be chipper and happy and pain free.
So tonight, I'm thinking of my sister, whom I love immeasurably. And I wish for the annihilation of infection and everything yellow and green in the body that spikes a fever.
Get well very soon, my dear Sandra. I love you.

I hope I remember

There are so many things that I try and file away in the storage cabinets of my brain. Some of those include the fact that at 18 months old - my girl is a whopper of a toddler at 29 lbs wearing a size 6 shoe. And like Doug and squirrels in the movie "Up," she is easily distracted by one of two things, her "toe" and "dog". I hope I can remember how she tells me that she wants to get down sounding something like, "birdown". Or the way she points out to me the most minuscule detail of something as she says, "See!" At 18 months she is a bread-a-holic and a huge fan of balls...and balloons, which she calls ball. But after a year and a half of life, we still have our special moment every evening when we go "nigh nigh" ..... which is similar to "nah nah" for banana, but can be deciphered based on what time of day it is. Baths are a favorite time and she'd really rather go "nigh nigh" in her crib than in mommy's lap, much to my dismay. Her Independence often leads her to little breakdowns of shear aggravation because I didn't hand her the entire cookie, or I didn't let her hold the fork, or she wanted the grape, not the pineapple. She can't say it yet, but if she could, she'd just bust out with an "I can do it myself!"
With her pitter patter becoming more and more steady by the day, I can only imagine where she'll e in the next 6 months. It's still so wild that last year this time, she was barely able to sit up.

Nearly 18 months

With one week to go, we are quickly approaching the 1 1/2 year old mark. How is it humanly possible that 6 months have passed since we celebrated my "baby" turning ONE.

We did reach another milestone this past weekend..our first fever. I have been really blessed with a healthy, healthy, healthy little girl. So much so, the doctor laughed at me when I told her how much Tylenol I was giving Addison for her fever.., "I give her to the top line on the dropper."

Apparently when your nearly 18 month old weighs 29 lbs, it's time to stop with the infant Tylenol and move on to Children's Tylenol. Makes sense and yet...it alluded me - because SHE HASN'T HAD A FEVER...EVER.

We rang in our new achievement well with a whopping 103.7 degrees. Poor baby was shivering so hard from chills. Unfortunately, we were in a hotel room in Greenville, SC which prompted a 4 a.m. run to the 24-hour CVS for more supplies. By the time I had returned from my adventure, her fever had broken.

Bill Cosby, Cornflake and a Tot tale

There have been some BIG times in the Thurman house lately. Some are happy and some have been sad. Seems to me that we chug along for a time and then, one after another things happen all at the same time.
My cousin Emily was married on Saturday. She was a stunning vision of beauty. We attempted to take Addison to the ceremony and were able to halfway succeed. That means, she made it halfway through. After one congregational song I heard my little cheerleader from the back row where she sat with her dad - "Yaaaaay!" She's a big fan of songs and lots of people and singing.
To add to this weekend, we commenced the Michael Birthday Week. My dear is turning 40 and I decided to declare an entire week dedicated to the event. To kick it off, I bought him tickets to see Bill Cosby. Amazingly, he came to town. I thought one thing when I saw him walk on to stage Sunday...Who is that?! My favorite comedian and family show star has really gotten old..to the point that I didn't recognize him at first. Slowly, as his performance progressed, I saw flashes of the Cosby I grew up loving. Tru to form, half-way through the show, he had me in literal tears. Thank goodness I didn't get any concessions or I would have peed my pants. One interesting thing I noticed however, was the subject matter....it was the same as always. I'm not talking topic, I'm talking era. He always tells stories from his very young days, growing up. Most of these stories happened when he was 19. I wondered to myself if he finds anything of late that interesting or amusing. It also made me ponder what era I would be stuck in when I reached his age.


There is one story I'd like to share about another lovely man, Uncle Dick. Dick Fox was a terribly active man. One day, he came into the print shop where I worked after experiencing a terrible fall off of his bike. The result of a run in with a set of railroad tracks I'm afraid. The only casualty...his broken cell phone. I worked with Mr. Fox for 5 years on the Fox Appliance catalog. It was a cornucopia of parts for every appliance ever made and then some. If you are from Georgia in the Columbus, Augusta, Savannah area, I'm sure that you've heard of them..the Fox's. They had a large family from what I understand, devout Catholics, so there were plenty of family members all over the state.

Uncle Dick was passionate about his parts. His head held vast amounts of knowledge. It was for that reason that last Friday was a somber day for the Fox family. They laid him to rest next to his beloved wife. He was passionate about her too. He built an elaborate waterfall in her honor near his riverfront home. It was a beautiful creation. He was an active advocate for the Canal Authority who worked hard to preserve our waterway. In short, he was an amazing man.

It didn't surprise me that he had an equally amazing dog.
Cornflake was a terrier. He may have been a Yorkie, but he was so old when I met him that I couldn't really tell. He was a sweet, sweet animal and HE was passionate about Uncle Dick. They would ride around town in the convertible with the top down. There wasn't much hair blowing going on because even the dog was balding. That dog was always 2 feet behind Uncle Dick no matter where he went. And if Uncle Dick stopped to chat, Cornflake would wait patiently. I think that they were all each other had really. Sure, there were the sons and daughters and grandchildren, but Cornflake and Uncle Dick had a special connection.

That's a pair that the world will surely miss.

Toes

I love being a mommy more than anything else I've ever done. Tonight's bathtime was brought to us by the letter T for TOES. Addison decided to name her appendages correctly during our nightly routine.

The Letter

I received a letter in the mail from a doctor. My files, it said, were now in his office. My files used to be at his wife's office.
Dr. Chudgar. I've been thinking a lot about her lately...ever since the letter. Long ago, before this blog existed, I went to see Dr. Chudgar for my infertility. We were excitedly anticipating what steps we would be taking to try and create a family of our own. The process was fresh and she was a very caring, very short Indian doctor who was as equally excited about beginning our journey together. A short 2 months into our process, we were notified that Dr. Chudgar would not be returning. Her cancer was no longer in remission. She would not be returning. At that point our lives took very separate paths as I pursued a few more doctors and many more procedures which happily ended with my successful pregnancy.
This is how Dr. Chudgar found me on our last encounter. Infertility procedures are expensive. My bill had not been paid. She was personally calling encouraging me to pay the amount owed. The moment she heard that we had been successful with our in vitro, she forgave my debt and wished me well. It was the ultimate example of what kind of doctor and person Dr. Chudgar was. I thought of that kind act when I read the letter from Dr. Chudgar, the husband. His dear wife, my benevolent doctor had passed away in April of 2009. I think of her tonight and how privileged I was to know her.

Deathly decisions

We have decided that one day we will write a book about our rentals. We've had some truly amazing, shocking, sickening things happen over the years. Some are just too unbelievable to be true...but they are. We had another such occurrence this week. Monday morning, we found that one of our young tenants, a girl of 25, had died over the weekend. It's not the first time, nor will it be the last time that a tenant has died. It is, however, even more disturbing when it doesn't have to happen. When that person's ill choices have caused their demise. It seems to be the case more often than not.
Ever see that show, "Early Edition?" I wish I could have had a morning paper that day that foretold of that young girl's death. I wish she had a maintenance emergency that required someone to be there so that the series of events would have been disrupted. There's a lot of "I wishes" because it's not right for someone that young with all that life ahead of her to have it end so soon. It's not right that when she rented my apartment, it would be not only the place she lived, but the place she died.
The ambulance that answered the call left their body board out front. They forgot it because when they got there, she was already gone and they didn't need to use it. So, for 2 days it sat out front like a bright orange flag yelling at the passerby - SOMEONE HERE WAS IN TROUBLE. I had to take it down from it's propped up place on the tree. It sits behind a bush now - hiding - waiting for the ambulance company to come back for it. I hope they hurry. That's a funny statement in itself.
It's just a reminder of how incredibly fragile we are as humans and how quickly a life can be snuffed out.
But it urges me to do everything in my power NOT to make a deadly decision for myself or my loved ones.
Sounds pretty easy. Let's hope.