Monthly Archives: March 2017

Happy Birthday, Scarlett!

My little girl is seven years old today. When you are diagnosed with ALS, you understand that you have a 50% chance of dying within 2 to 5 years. Scarlett was two years old when I was diagnosed, and it was reasonable for me to believe that I might not make it to her seventh birthday.

But here I am.

She woke up to balloons and a Truly Me American Girl doll, the kind that looks like her: hair that Scarlett once described as “the color of chicken nuggets”, brown eyes, and a small smattering of freckles. There was a toy that looks like Otto, and some matching outfits for Scarlett and her doll, who she named “Scarlett”, although by the time she left for school, the doll’s name might have been “Elizabeth.” It was all a little confusing.

This morning was not like her second birthday, Read More>

Air Apparent

My BiPAP is a source of great comfort for me. I hate that this is true, but at this point, it is only on my BiPAP that I can sleep. So when I get on it during the day, as I often do when a caregiver is on a lunch break, I tend to doze off in my wheelchair like an old man in front of the TV after a long day at work. I miss crawling into bed and arranging my head on the pillow, lying on my side, stretching out my arms. Sleeping is so different these days.

Sometimes I don’t even realize how tired I am. But I don’t get very good sleep at night, even if I’m not asking for help adjusting my body. I often lie awake thinking about the things I need to do (and trying not to add Drink Water or Go To The Bathroom to that list.) In the morning, I’m up early to help Scarlett get ready for school, or at least to encourage her via various versions of threat/reward/eventual apathy.

After she leaves, I try to get things done. It’s increasingly difficult. I’d love to sit down and write, but I don’t really have the energy. Or the time, because I am also working on taxes, her birthday party, an assignment I took on for the school auction, and general communication with friends and family who care enough to reach out and check on me, leaving me feeling happily obligated to reply in a timely manner. I only sometimes succeed, but when I do spend the morning emailing and texting, it zaps my energy for hours.

Which leads me to my time on the BiPAP. I might bring my phone with me to listen to music or podcasts, or I might bring my iPad so I can read a book, but inevitably, I will lean back and my eyes will close, as my body realizes that is finally finally breathing correctly again, and I can truly relax. I can’t believe this is real, that for the greater part of each day I am not getting enough air. I’m doing fine, and I manage it all with medication, including  my important nightly wine regimen Read More>

Good Fortune

Scarlett came home from school recently with two fortune cookies to celebrate the Chinese new year. The first one said “The best times of your life are still ahead.” For her, at age almost-seven, this is of course true. But it made me wonder, at what point do you get to the place in your life where it isn’t true anymore? I am probably there myself. Although I still have good times to look forward to, I think it’s safe to say the best times of my life are actually behind me. Which is something I didn’t expect to be saying at the age of 38.

The best times of my life were probably when Scarlett was young and I was still mobile. When I thought I had years and years ahead of me to experience all that life offered to an able bodied, active, and adventurous person. The best times of my life should still be ahead of me, but they aren’t, because I can’t move and I am no longer an independent woman.

Scarlett and Rob are skiing in Lake Tahoe for four days. Read More>