The field of pediatric cardiology is relatively new. Even newer is the treatment for HLHS. Before the 1980's there were no survivors of HLHS, and even up until the mid-90's, survival rates were depressing enough to make me not even want to think about them--only about 40% for the first surgery alone. Although all fields of medicine rapidly change, there is still so much that is unknown about CHDs in general, and HLHS in particular. As more CHD'ers reach adulthood, the story continues to unfold.
All of this can leave me pretty confused as a parent sometimes. At the same time, there's something exciting about it too: I feel like I am part of history in the making, a part of something that's really dynamic and progressing at a fast rate. And yet, there is sadness too, knowing that it is already too late for so many kids who have already passed away from the silent killers known as heart defects. Sadness that in 5, 10, or 20 years, I will see technologies that could've helped my son in a much better way.
The world seems to change quickly, and in a mere 3 decades, there's a lot I can say, "it happened in my lifetime" about. However, many of these things are reflective of tragedy and stuggle. Yet, 2 of them I can say "it happened in my lifetime" about with unabashed joy: the survival of kids with HLHS (not only survival through childhood, but into adulthood, allowing people with HLHS to go to college, marry, and even see the 1st woman with HLHS to have a child of her own) and the World Series win of the White Sox :)
Thus, things in the CHD world seem to be changing more quickly than in many other areas. Still, there are questions I discuss with other parents, sometimes with vigor. The first of these is the matter of "developmental delays." Numerous studies show that kids with CHDs are at an increased risk for delays in gross and fine motor skills, speech, and eating, as well as "behavioral problems" like ADD and OCD. The risk for these problems is much greater for single ventricle children such as my son. Yet, very few outside the CHD world seem to know this, or even acknowledge it. Even when I try to tell to people I assume would or should be aware of this (like teachers, etc), it's like I'm talking to a brick wall, and I'm told to my face that my son's condition is only physical. Unfortunately, we as a culture have stereotyped and put the terms "developmental delay" or "sensory overload" in a box (popularly) to refer to children on the autism spectrum or someone with a "learning disability." In reality, children with a wide range of medical conditions and physical ailments (especially those children who have had long hospital stays) confront these issues.
The issue is complicated. At first, it was thought the CHDs themselves caused delays in other areas, but I've heard from cardiologists that the body protects the brain before anything else, and that the heart condition itself is not the cause. One recently told me that although there are often delays in the motor and speech areas, there is no actual evidence for real cognitive delays, and that the vast majory of "heart kids" catch up to their peers by 5 years of age or so. Then it was widely believed that the surgeries themselves caused the delays. The argument, quite believable, was that being on the bypass machine at such a young age, with its accompanying need to freeze the child's brain and reduce brain activity as much as possible, was the culprit. Yet, a recent study of respected cardio-thoracic surgeons reported to Children's Hosp in Philadelphia that this did not appear to be the cause, either. So what is it, really? Our cardiologist has suggested that it could be a combination of many things, including the experiences of heart surgeries and hospital stays themselves. No one has yet mentioned the possible effect of being on multiple medications from birth, but I wonder if this could be a reason. In addition, many children with HLHS have strokes during childhood, and I always worry about the possibility than many of them are too small to be noticed or diagnosed.
In any event, this is an area of research that is being worked on all of a sudden--a hot topic in the field. A cardiologist told me last weekend that, "we're learning these days that it is not enough to save a child's life through heart surgery. We also have to be good citizens and do more to find ways for them to have a higher quality of life." I am, without a doubt, glad so many are suddenly paying attention to this subject, but again, it is a bittersweet feeling, because whatever strides are made from research will certainly come too late for my own son. Even a few years before he was born, it was still pretty fuzzy that CHDer's would need PT, OT, and speech therapy services in early childhood, so I can at least be grateful that we have had the opportunity to qualify for and get these services early via the federally-funded early intervention program.
Another issue we CHD parents face some uncertainty on is diet for our "heart kids." As if we all don't get enough mixed messages about food in our country, how much more so heart families!! On the one hand, some of our children's cardiologists and dieticians are telling us "calories! add butter! whatever it takes!" Other cardiologists and parents appear to be horrified by the suggestion, because we've been so conditioned by our very own American Heart Association that "bad fats" are, well, bad for the heart--how much more so for someone with heart disease?!
Sigh, and sigh again! First of all, I apologize for offending the sense of unity and magnamity we so like to feel in the CHD world (and who can't support Jump Rope for Heart), but AHA is not really our friend. Let's not have any illusions on that matter. I will change that statement when I see AHA devote more than 1/100th of their funding to heart disease that affects children. Secondly, with their paltry 1/100th, they claim to fund research as to the "cause" of CHDs. Seriously, AHA, others much more qualified (ie, who know *anything* about CHDs) and well-funded can do this research a lot better than you. Nevermind that specialists in the field have long discounted what you say on your very own webpage--that CHDs could be all but wiped out if women stopped pesky behaviors during pregnancy--nevermind that people who know *anything* about the field reiterate over and over again that the vast majority of heart defects happen for unknown reasons, that the vast majority of "heart moms" never used drugs or had diabetes or took class D drugs during pregnancy. And even in cases where an event happened during pregnancy that is possibly linked to having a child with CHD (having a fever, virus, strep throat, or UTI), they are things beyond an expectant mom's control, and the majority of women report they did not have these problems during pregnancy. Finally, AHA is unclear about what it's talking about on the matter of heart kid nutrition: at a conference last week for heart parents, AHA had their token stand and handed me a book of "heart-healthy recipes" for kids. "Are they for heart kids?" I asked. "No," I was told. "They're for all kids." I chucked it. "Do you know if these recipes are appropriate for heart kids, many of whom are underweight and burn a lot more calories than 'all kids?'" I asked. "Um, no." I was told.
I will be listening to my son's specialists on the matter of nutrition, as well as following common sense. First of all, toddlers need fat. They need so-called "bad fats," like whole milk, for their brain development. They need calories. Heart kids need them even more--as I said, most of them are lousy eaters, and their hearts work harder, causing them to burn more calories than the rest of us. Yet, some heart parents disagree with me. They live in such a culturally-perpetuated fear of artery-clogging (a legitimate fear, but one that should be directed at sedentary adults and schoolkids, not toddlers) that they won't put butter on their toddler's green beans or give them whole milk to drink. Then again, I'm not taking my son to McDonald's or letting him have junk food, because that's not healthy for...anyone. Likewise, as always, the rule of thumb for eating anything is *moderation.* But ice cream once in awhile? Fine. Whole milk? Fine. Butter, eggs...a couple times a week, fine. Finally, going organic with the fats is a wise idea. Pesticides are stored in body fat (and of course, collect in what acts as a filter for toxins, the liver)--in us humans as well as in animals. Animals eat pesticide-laden plant products, then store the pesticides in their fat, which is passed on to those of us who eat animal fat in the form of meat or dairy.
Oh, and of course, the jury is still out about what even causes CHDs in the first place: environment, genetics, or a complex mix of both? And to that I say, "I have no idea." We do know that people all over the world, of both sexes, are born with heart defects. We do know that certain genes have been pinpointed to heart defects. We also know that the rate of heart defects is higher in certain places, such as WI, Baltimore, and China. Or how about a 4th option: completely random chance?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
1 tbs of mind crumbles: A rambling continuation of the previous post
A Conversation about God cont'd
Sometimes I feel like I've seen too much, known too much, heard about too many messed up things. Is it any wonder those of my generation, and the ones younger than mine, are said to be jaded, cynical, disillusioned? We have constant access to sensationlist news, activist outrage, celebrity gossip, as well as talking heads who say a version of the same thing on the hour and streaming headlines fed across TV screens and email servers. Our propensity to relay tragedy seems never-ending. Combine this with what occurs in the course of our everyday lives. Combine this with extensive travel abroad, the bulk of it in developing countries. I feel too young to have seen what I have seen, to have read/known/heard what I have read/known/heard...if life expectancy were still 45 years, I could at least feel justified in being world-weary from time to time. But I am relatively young for my times. Then I think, "if my mind aches from even thinking about the difficult things I've seen in my own short little life, how could I possibly comprehend God's knowledge of the full extent of all the terrible things in the history of the world?" It would absolutely blow my mind and I'd probably wind up in an insane asylum...rather depressing thoughts but a perfect example of why God protects us from "the reason" for each and every evil/messed up thing that happens.
Sometimes I feel like I've seen too much, known too much, heard about too many messed up things. Is it any wonder those of my generation, and the ones younger than mine, are said to be jaded, cynical, disillusioned? We have constant access to sensationlist news, activist outrage, celebrity gossip, as well as talking heads who say a version of the same thing on the hour and streaming headlines fed across TV screens and email servers. Our propensity to relay tragedy seems never-ending. Combine this with what occurs in the course of our everyday lives. Combine this with extensive travel abroad, the bulk of it in developing countries. I feel too young to have seen what I have seen, to have read/known/heard what I have read/known/heard...if life expectancy were still 45 years, I could at least feel justified in being world-weary from time to time. But I am relatively young for my times. Then I think, "if my mind aches from even thinking about the difficult things I've seen in my own short little life, how could I possibly comprehend God's knowledge of the full extent of all the terrible things in the history of the world?" It would absolutely blow my mind and I'd probably wind up in an insane asylum...rather depressing thoughts but a perfect example of why God protects us from "the reason" for each and every evil/messed up thing that happens.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
A Conversation about God
And there will no longer be heard in her the voice of weeping and the sound of crying. No longer will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his days; For the youth will die at the age of one hundred and the one who does not reach the age of one hundred Shall be thought accursed. And they shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall also plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build, and another inhabit, they shall not plant, and another eat; for as the lifetime of a tree, so shall be the days of My people, and My chosen ones shall wear out the work of their hands. They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they are the offspring of those blessed by the LORD, and their descendants with them. It will also come to pass that before they call, I will answer; and while they are still speaking, I will hear. (NASB) Isaiah 65:19-24
M: Tonight as I was driving home, I saw a beautiful buck on the side of the road that had been hit by a car. Blood was coming out of its nose. Why do these things have to happen?
E: Because of our human greed and stupidity.
M: So it's all the fault of humans?
E: Society has deemed it necessary to have cars and roads, so yes.
M: Why are some things born just to be killed right away? Do you remember those baby rabbits at my old place that were killed by that stray cat? It was so sad. The poor mother rabbit. Why did they even have to be born at all, if they were just going to die? That incident can't really be blamed on humans, can it? Or is it because nature is out of balance due to human actions?
E: It could be, I guess.
M: But why do humans have to be like that? I'm a human, but I don't want those things to happen. I wish I could create a mode of transportation that didn't involve death. Is each and every one of us responsible, or humanity in general? I can understand that bad things happen because we live in a fallen world. I can understand that bad things happen because humans create a lot of our own suffering, as well as cause the suffering of other living things. I can even understand reasons why God would create beings who would die shortly after but who would have a tremendous and profound impact on others. What I don't understand is the seemingly senseless deaths of some creatures.
E: I'm not sure. Does God really care? I believe in God, but I've always questioned how much He cares about our individual lives. Maybe He only cares about the big picture.
M: But of course God cares!
E: Does He?
M: Of course He does. It says in the Bible that God notices when even a sparrow dies; therefore, as we were created in His image, how much more so does he notice us. He sees all. That's why I think you should eat less meat. God knows about the factory farming. He sees what is going on and He is angry when we cause his creatures unnecessary suffering.
E: You think God cares about the animals?
M: Of course He does. People did not even eat animals until after Noah's Ark, after the flood. It also says that in Heaven, there will be no more death. Eventually the wolf and the lamb will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw. God does not desire suffering or death for any of His creatures.
E: If He cares, then why doesn't He show it?
M: You don't think He does?
E: No--I mean, how does He? We don't see Him, it doesn't feel like He's around or that He cares.
M: What are you looking for? Thunder and lightning bolts?
E: Well, sure.
M: But, it doesn't matter. Because even when He did show it, people still refused to believe in Him. When Jesus was doing work on earth, in the flesh, many if not most people still rejected Him.
E: Hm.
M: You had Jesus performing miracles in front of people's eyes, but they still rejected Him. They were so caught up in the fact that the miracle occurred on the Sabbath, that legalism clouded their eyes and they said, "He doesn't fit our view of God, therefore he cannot be God."
E: Hm.
M: You see, God is always showing us He cares. He is always performing miracles. It just in ways that we don't expect, sometimes in ways we're not looking for, and because it doesn't fit our narrow, human framework, we refuse to accept them. God is bigger than our minds, than our own understanding. He is bigger than our rules. He refuses to play by our flawed human rules and tests.
E: Hm.
M: We cannot understand why these seemingly senseless things happen. We can guess, but it is only a shadow of complete understanding. Our minds are not ready to understand yet, because we're still living in the midst of it. And we are spiritual infants compared to eternity, compared to God.
E: Hm.
M: It's like Himal's heart surgeries. He is too little to understand; he cannot understand. All he knows is that these things have happened to him, and are happening, and maybe he even wonders why we as his parents do not put a stop to it. Can't we? Don't we want to? We did not desire for it to be this way. But we let it happen because it is his only chance at life. Without these things happening to him, he would die, although he does not understand that yet.
E: True.
M: We have to believe that all these things that happen will be used for greater good in the end. God will turn everything to good, and for His glory, if only we let Him. We have to believe that we will either learn why someday, or that eventually, the question of why will not even matter in the bigger scheme of things.
Unfortunately, no matter what, some will still be angry at God, although that anger is misdirected. They will ask why God didn't create a wonderful paradise for us all--forgetting that He did, and we as humans (ie, Adam and Eve, as the primordial ones) chose to leave it. Also unfortunately, there are some who will still reject the existence of God because He has somehow failed their test of what God should be. God wants us to believe in Him because He desires only good things for us. He is always inviting us to be a part of something amazing, something that will cause us to outgrow the narrow wooden beams we try to keep housing our belief system in. Although he have to step out of our comfort zone to truly follow God, it is always more than worth it to move into God's expansive mansion.
There is more than enough room in my Father's home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? John 14:2
M: Tonight as I was driving home, I saw a beautiful buck on the side of the road that had been hit by a car. Blood was coming out of its nose. Why do these things have to happen?
E: Because of our human greed and stupidity.
M: So it's all the fault of humans?
E: Society has deemed it necessary to have cars and roads, so yes.
M: Why are some things born just to be killed right away? Do you remember those baby rabbits at my old place that were killed by that stray cat? It was so sad. The poor mother rabbit. Why did they even have to be born at all, if they were just going to die? That incident can't really be blamed on humans, can it? Or is it because nature is out of balance due to human actions?
E: It could be, I guess.
M: But why do humans have to be like that? I'm a human, but I don't want those things to happen. I wish I could create a mode of transportation that didn't involve death. Is each and every one of us responsible, or humanity in general? I can understand that bad things happen because we live in a fallen world. I can understand that bad things happen because humans create a lot of our own suffering, as well as cause the suffering of other living things. I can even understand reasons why God would create beings who would die shortly after but who would have a tremendous and profound impact on others. What I don't understand is the seemingly senseless deaths of some creatures.
E: I'm not sure. Does God really care? I believe in God, but I've always questioned how much He cares about our individual lives. Maybe He only cares about the big picture.
M: But of course God cares!
E: Does He?
M: Of course He does. It says in the Bible that God notices when even a sparrow dies; therefore, as we were created in His image, how much more so does he notice us. He sees all. That's why I think you should eat less meat. God knows about the factory farming. He sees what is going on and He is angry when we cause his creatures unnecessary suffering.
E: You think God cares about the animals?
M: Of course He does. People did not even eat animals until after Noah's Ark, after the flood. It also says that in Heaven, there will be no more death. Eventually the wolf and the lamb will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw. God does not desire suffering or death for any of His creatures.
E: If He cares, then why doesn't He show it?
M: You don't think He does?
E: No--I mean, how does He? We don't see Him, it doesn't feel like He's around or that He cares.
M: What are you looking for? Thunder and lightning bolts?
E: Well, sure.
M: But, it doesn't matter. Because even when He did show it, people still refused to believe in Him. When Jesus was doing work on earth, in the flesh, many if not most people still rejected Him.
E: Hm.
M: You had Jesus performing miracles in front of people's eyes, but they still rejected Him. They were so caught up in the fact that the miracle occurred on the Sabbath, that legalism clouded their eyes and they said, "He doesn't fit our view of God, therefore he cannot be God."
E: Hm.
M: You see, God is always showing us He cares. He is always performing miracles. It just in ways that we don't expect, sometimes in ways we're not looking for, and because it doesn't fit our narrow, human framework, we refuse to accept them. God is bigger than our minds, than our own understanding. He is bigger than our rules. He refuses to play by our flawed human rules and tests.
E: Hm.
M: We cannot understand why these seemingly senseless things happen. We can guess, but it is only a shadow of complete understanding. Our minds are not ready to understand yet, because we're still living in the midst of it. And we are spiritual infants compared to eternity, compared to God.
E: Hm.
M: It's like Himal's heart surgeries. He is too little to understand; he cannot understand. All he knows is that these things have happened to him, and are happening, and maybe he even wonders why we as his parents do not put a stop to it. Can't we? Don't we want to? We did not desire for it to be this way. But we let it happen because it is his only chance at life. Without these things happening to him, he would die, although he does not understand that yet.
E: True.
M: We have to believe that all these things that happen will be used for greater good in the end. God will turn everything to good, and for His glory, if only we let Him. We have to believe that we will either learn why someday, or that eventually, the question of why will not even matter in the bigger scheme of things.
Unfortunately, no matter what, some will still be angry at God, although that anger is misdirected. They will ask why God didn't create a wonderful paradise for us all--forgetting that He did, and we as humans (ie, Adam and Eve, as the primordial ones) chose to leave it. Also unfortunately, there are some who will still reject the existence of God because He has somehow failed their test of what God should be. God wants us to believe in Him because He desires only good things for us. He is always inviting us to be a part of something amazing, something that will cause us to outgrow the narrow wooden beams we try to keep housing our belief system in. Although he have to step out of our comfort zone to truly follow God, it is always more than worth it to move into God's expansive mansion.
There is more than enough room in my Father's home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? John 14:2
I Said Your Name
I said your name
it was a flash of light
a blinding light in my eyes
deer in the headlights
and ghosts in the moonlight
when I said your name,
a light in front of my eyes
I crossed the threshold,
lay down at the entrance,
fell asleep where I lay
and each time I said your name
a bulb went off, flash photography
lighting me up in your reflection
lightning blazing your momentary image
And I said your name all night
One syllable causing a firework
explosion of light in front of my eyes
Each time I said your name
it was a flash of light
a blinding light in my eyes
deer in the headlights
and ghosts in the moonlight
when I said your name,
a light in front of my eyes
I crossed the threshold,
lay down at the entrance,
fell asleep where I lay
and each time I said your name
a bulb went off, flash photography
lighting me up in your reflection
lightning blazing your momentary image
And I said your name all night
One syllable causing a firework
explosion of light in front of my eyes
Each time I said your name
Monday, April 26, 2010
Mended Hearts, Racing Hearts
"'Each beat of your heart is a small miracle, you know, so don't get carried away. It's a fragile, makeshift repair. Things should get better as you grow up, but you'll have to be patient.'
"There's no doubt that my clock causes me a worry or two...But mostly I'm worried about being always out of kilter. By evening, the tick-tock that reverberates through my body stops my from sleeping. I might collapse with exhaustion in the middle of the afternoon, but I feel on top of the world in the dead of the night."
--from The Boy with the Cuckoo Clock Heart by Mathias Malzieu
I wonder if this explains why Himal wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes, bursting with energy, and will want to play from about midnight until 5 am with scary wide-eyed alertness...the fact that due to my heart issue, I can feel sleepy after walking up the stairs, but wake up at 1 am not tired at all, heart racing as if the whole world were about to begin anew.
"There's no doubt that my clock causes me a worry or two...But mostly I'm worried about being always out of kilter. By evening, the tick-tock that reverberates through my body stops my from sleeping. I might collapse with exhaustion in the middle of the afternoon, but I feel on top of the world in the dead of the night."
--from The Boy with the Cuckoo Clock Heart by Mathias Malzieu
I wonder if this explains why Himal wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes, bursting with energy, and will want to play from about midnight until 5 am with scary wide-eyed alertness...the fact that due to my heart issue, I can feel sleepy after walking up the stairs, but wake up at 1 am not tired at all, heart racing as if the whole world were about to begin anew.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
That Time of Year Again
Picking out a Mother's Day card has always been a little traumatic for me. Not only is my family not the "I love you" or the give-you-a-hug-when-they-see-you type, but my mom has always been a bit touchy about Mother's Day in general.
First of all, she hates Mother's Day cards that mention any sort of housework/domesticity, portray a harried mom, or make jokes about how much work a mom does. She hates Mother's Day cards that contain jokes, such as quips about how hard it was to raise me, or how cute and lovable I turned out to be because of her. In fact, she dislikes any Mother's Day cards that draw attention away from her as a person and make her child (ie, me), once again, the focus. On top of this, she absolutely cannot stand any of those mom-friendship cards, like the ones that say "you're my best friend." My mom has always made it blatantly clear that she doesn't think a parent's role is to be their child's best friend, or even friend in general.
Combine this with a general reticence and distate for overly-sentimental sap (which I find to have little meaning anyway), and you've basically excluded every Mother's Day card out there. There are years I have gotten desperate and given her a blank card, with a picture totally unrelated to the spirit of Mother's Day, and written my own message in. There was one year where the only card I liked was from the "Mahogany Collection" (or maybe it was the Ebony Collection)--and while my mom is not racist or even prejudiced, I could see a brief pause as she wondered why the card pictured an African American family and mentioned something about soul jazz.
In more recent years, I've gone with safe cards, like ones with flowery teapots on them and a message simply stated inside. You know, classy yet feminine, implying quietude and individuality instead of gush-n-mush or a chaos of laundry or a blinding spray of pink flowers.
This year, I faced the wall of cards before me, and giving a cursory scowl to those in either direction, marched up and started cringing with each card I read (there may have even been a time I gagged) until I found this year's choice--nice and safe, yet meaningful:
On the outside are a couple of hummingbirds milling about orange (not pink!) flowers, nicely balanced by restful green leaves. The title reads "From the two of us" (safe, because it's easier for me to hold forth to my mom when I have Shawn as my ally--you can't really get mad at your son-in-law for expressing gratitude, right?).
It opens to read "Nothing else can light our way, warm our hearts, shape our dreams...nothing else can touch our lives quite like a mom's love." Ok, this is good, Nice and universal, yet sincere.
Finally, it unfolds to "You bless our lives with a caring touch--we both hope and know that you're loved very much. Happy Mother's Day." Score!! In saying "we hope you know..." I've side-stepped a blatant and direct declaration of love.
Cuz that's how me and my mom roll.
First of all, she hates Mother's Day cards that mention any sort of housework/domesticity, portray a harried mom, or make jokes about how much work a mom does. She hates Mother's Day cards that contain jokes, such as quips about how hard it was to raise me, or how cute and lovable I turned out to be because of her. In fact, she dislikes any Mother's Day cards that draw attention away from her as a person and make her child (ie, me), once again, the focus. On top of this, she absolutely cannot stand any of those mom-friendship cards, like the ones that say "you're my best friend." My mom has always made it blatantly clear that she doesn't think a parent's role is to be their child's best friend, or even friend in general.
Combine this with a general reticence and distate for overly-sentimental sap (which I find to have little meaning anyway), and you've basically excluded every Mother's Day card out there. There are years I have gotten desperate and given her a blank card, with a picture totally unrelated to the spirit of Mother's Day, and written my own message in. There was one year where the only card I liked was from the "Mahogany Collection" (or maybe it was the Ebony Collection)--and while my mom is not racist or even prejudiced, I could see a brief pause as she wondered why the card pictured an African American family and mentioned something about soul jazz.
In more recent years, I've gone with safe cards, like ones with flowery teapots on them and a message simply stated inside. You know, classy yet feminine, implying quietude and individuality instead of gush-n-mush or a chaos of laundry or a blinding spray of pink flowers.
This year, I faced the wall of cards before me, and giving a cursory scowl to those in either direction, marched up and started cringing with each card I read (there may have even been a time I gagged) until I found this year's choice--nice and safe, yet meaningful:
On the outside are a couple of hummingbirds milling about orange (not pink!) flowers, nicely balanced by restful green leaves. The title reads "From the two of us" (safe, because it's easier for me to hold forth to my mom when I have Shawn as my ally--you can't really get mad at your son-in-law for expressing gratitude, right?).
It opens to read "Nothing else can light our way, warm our hearts, shape our dreams...nothing else can touch our lives quite like a mom's love." Ok, this is good, Nice and universal, yet sincere.
Finally, it unfolds to "You bless our lives with a caring touch--we both hope and know that you're loved very much. Happy Mother's Day." Score!! In saying "we hope you know..." I've side-stepped a blatant and direct declaration of love.
Cuz that's how me and my mom roll.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Blind Spots
Every mammal (along with reptiles, birds, amphibians, and many fish) has blind spots in their eyes. Our eyes compensate for our blind spots, so that most of the time, we don't even know we have these ocular dead zones. Our brain fills in the blanks with a continuum of light and pattern from the rest of our visual field.
We all have our own subconscious mental blind spots, as well--things about ourselves that we don't see and don't really need to see--unnoticed areas that we fill in with the patterns of the rest of our lives and what we believe about ourselves. Usually, we don't perceive that they're there until something breaks the pattern--often when we view an unexpected mirror of ourselves in others. That revealing mirror is held up to an aspect of ourselves that challenges our assumption of contiguous pattern and seamless coherence.
I became conscious of both of my blind spots (at least, 2 of them--are there more?! Oh dear, how would I know?) right around the same time recently. The first one occurred after a conversation I had with someone about the people we used to go to church with--way back when. Whatever happened to them? What were they doing now, these working class kids from a tiny-but-sincere group of strong Christians, my first introduction to evangelical-style religion, whose names I can still easily recall after all these yers, who gave me first glimpse into what it meant to be on a spiritual journey?
In a wave of nostalgia, I did the unthinkable: I looked them up on facebook; I found a few. I brielfy tinkered with the past, as I knew looking into their lives would challenge the safe memories of them, where they remain quaint, young, charmingly earnest in their church clothes, before wearing blue jeans to church was ok, before cell phone and internet and power point made church hip.
I did not request any of them as friends. It's not that I wouldn't like to see them again, to talk to them sometime. But to actually let them in--to the person I've become--the gulf seems too wide. And here's the blind spot: the fact that I don't use my real name on facebook, whereas virtually everyone else does, is to avoid situations exactly like this one. If I used my real name, maybe 1 of them would have found me by now, and then they all would've found me...the alias is not to keep pesky high school reunion people away after all. Rather, it protects the sense of self I have created, have carved out, keeps it separate from the one of 5, 10, 15, 20years ago. It's the assumption that others who knew me then but not now can't possibily understand how I'm a Bilbo Baggins in non-hobbit form...to explain how I got There and Back Again seems like a monumental task. And so, like Bilbo, I stay a little remote and prefer to write about my adventures on the side :)
The other blind spot involves not being completely honest with myself in the area of shutting a part of myself down. You hear, from time to time, confessions of how a person, a friend or family member maybe, walled off a part of themselves in light of an event. Usually it was due to emotional trauma, a sort of betrayal, or a contradiction that proved too big for the human mind. I always find confessions to such emotional deadening incredibly tragic--like the time a friend told me when he/she went off to war, they shut a part of themself off forever. I always thought I would never let this happen to me, no matter what.
It did--sort of. Although Esposo and I always wanted just one child, I have to admit that I suddenly realized that part of what reinforces that decision is the fact that after Himal's HLHS, I walled off the part of myself that would ever chance going through something like that again. Even if I were inclined to have another child (which I'm not), there is no way I would ever allow myself to experience even the possibility, however remote, of having another child with a heart condition. I took this fear, this anxiety, and put it in some locked place so that it feels completely separate from me now. It's like it's there, but it's in such a thick leaden box that even if it tries to cry out, I am completely deaf to it. When I think of it, I picture it as a cold little lead box on the right side of my heart...like my heart is beating, the rest of it is warm, but there's this cold icy lead thing there that doesn't feel. I will never have to deal with it, ever, because I cannot deal with it, I cannot even bear to think about it other than when it's in its safe prison.
So, I'm not superior in any way to those who build their defensive walls against love, friendship, selfless and heroic wide open leave it to chance expanse, after all.
We all have our own subconscious mental blind spots, as well--things about ourselves that we don't see and don't really need to see--unnoticed areas that we fill in with the patterns of the rest of our lives and what we believe about ourselves. Usually, we don't perceive that they're there until something breaks the pattern--often when we view an unexpected mirror of ourselves in others. That revealing mirror is held up to an aspect of ourselves that challenges our assumption of contiguous pattern and seamless coherence.
I became conscious of both of my blind spots (at least, 2 of them--are there more?! Oh dear, how would I know?) right around the same time recently. The first one occurred after a conversation I had with someone about the people we used to go to church with--way back when. Whatever happened to them? What were they doing now, these working class kids from a tiny-but-sincere group of strong Christians, my first introduction to evangelical-style religion, whose names I can still easily recall after all these yers, who gave me first glimpse into what it meant to be on a spiritual journey?
In a wave of nostalgia, I did the unthinkable: I looked them up on facebook; I found a few. I brielfy tinkered with the past, as I knew looking into their lives would challenge the safe memories of them, where they remain quaint, young, charmingly earnest in their church clothes, before wearing blue jeans to church was ok, before cell phone and internet and power point made church hip.
I did not request any of them as friends. It's not that I wouldn't like to see them again, to talk to them sometime. But to actually let them in--to the person I've become--the gulf seems too wide. And here's the blind spot: the fact that I don't use my real name on facebook, whereas virtually everyone else does, is to avoid situations exactly like this one. If I used my real name, maybe 1 of them would have found me by now, and then they all would've found me...the alias is not to keep pesky high school reunion people away after all. Rather, it protects the sense of self I have created, have carved out, keeps it separate from the one of 5, 10, 15, 20years ago. It's the assumption that others who knew me then but not now can't possibily understand how I'm a Bilbo Baggins in non-hobbit form...to explain how I got There and Back Again seems like a monumental task. And so, like Bilbo, I stay a little remote and prefer to write about my adventures on the side :)
The other blind spot involves not being completely honest with myself in the area of shutting a part of myself down. You hear, from time to time, confessions of how a person, a friend or family member maybe, walled off a part of themselves in light of an event. Usually it was due to emotional trauma, a sort of betrayal, or a contradiction that proved too big for the human mind. I always find confessions to such emotional deadening incredibly tragic--like the time a friend told me when he/she went off to war, they shut a part of themself off forever. I always thought I would never let this happen to me, no matter what.
It did--sort of. Although Esposo and I always wanted just one child, I have to admit that I suddenly realized that part of what reinforces that decision is the fact that after Himal's HLHS, I walled off the part of myself that would ever chance going through something like that again. Even if I were inclined to have another child (which I'm not), there is no way I would ever allow myself to experience even the possibility, however remote, of having another child with a heart condition. I took this fear, this anxiety, and put it in some locked place so that it feels completely separate from me now. It's like it's there, but it's in such a thick leaden box that even if it tries to cry out, I am completely deaf to it. When I think of it, I picture it as a cold little lead box on the right side of my heart...like my heart is beating, the rest of it is warm, but there's this cold icy lead thing there that doesn't feel. I will never have to deal with it, ever, because I cannot deal with it, I cannot even bear to think about it other than when it's in its safe prison.
So, I'm not superior in any way to those who build their defensive walls against love, friendship, selfless and heroic wide open leave it to chance expanse, after all.
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