>Walk on, Girlfriend!

>My dear friend Sara is walking — walking up a storm in Chicago. She and a good friend are participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer this spring. Sara had breast cancer a few years ago, and she suffered through chemo, radiation, reconstructive surgery (twice!), and more. She is an amazing woman with a fantastic sense of humor and a limitless capacity to love and care for others. Sara and an artist friend designed and decorated this lion, titled Breast Cancer Survivors: Not an Endangered Species.
She is collecting pledges on the Avon Walk web site. Money goes for both research and treatment. In her words,

“For 2 days 4000 people walked for one cause. It was a remarkable weekend….We watched as 4 groups were granted a total of 4 million dollars. Half of that went towards research, which is vital towards finding a cure (for all sorts of cancers), and half went towards care for under-insured breast cancer patients. I carried you all with me as I walked. I am so grateful for your help.”

You can help sponsor Sara and her walking buddy by following these steps.

  • Go online to Avonwalk.org
  • click on “Make a Donation”
  • click on “Donate to a participant”
  • click on “Chicago, 2008”
  • fill in first name Sara and last name Wilda
  • click on “find a walker/crew member”
  • click on Wilda,Sara
  • click on “Click Here to Support Me”

I know your time and your money are valuable. My donations have been embarrassingly small — a drop in the bucket, so to speak. But if enough people put drops in it, the bucket will eventually fill. All of us who have been touched by breast cancer (personally or in our families) really appreciate your support, be it financial or moral.

I almost titled this post “These boobs were made for walking!” Then I thought of all the weird and inappropriate google searches that might wind up here, and opted for the cleaner and more appropriate title. Sara, however, would have laughed out loud at the first one!

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>Illness doesn’t have to be pandemic to matter.

>The annual IEP (in Amigo’s words, the I Eat Pizza) went reasonably well. Amigo at 16 has become much more self-confident in these meetings, and he handled quite a bit of it himself.

We went out for supper, decompressed, came home. Amigo did his homework, took his evening meds (for acne and for anxiety/tics), and went to bed. Almost exactly an hour later, he threw up.

We are the type of parents who analyze, worry, and then analyze and worry some more on the way to our decisions.

Analysis: his IEP caused him stress and anxiety.
Worry: Maybe his stomach wasn’t fully healed from its recent illness.
Analysis: The acne medicine upsets his stomach. He tossed his cookies about an hour after he took it.
Worry: Maybe we should call the doctor and ask for a change in meds.
Analysis: Being sick scares him. His Asperger’s style logic doesn’t let him calm down and heal.
Worry: This adds more anxiety, which upsets his stomach more. Again.
Analysis: He was exhausted and lacked appetite already on Sunday.
Worry: Was this a sign? And we missed it?

Decisions:
Keep him home for a day, let him rest, feed him bland foods, monitor (and analyze and worry) throughout the day. If he’s up to it, we’ll shop for a low-dose over-the-counter antacid. We’ll re-introduce the meds slowly, on a full stomach, well before bedtime, after consulting the doctor.

Upon further analysis, his illness continued for days, weeks, and eventually months. The local pediatrician referred us to the Big Children’s Hospital for a specialist and heavy duty testing. Amigo went through a week of gathering lab samples, only to have to do the tests over because the local hospital’s lab didn’t like the Big Hospital’s containers. These tests (you guessed it) showed nothing new, eliminated nothing from the list of possibilities.

Next up was a three day stint.
Day 1: prepare for tests.
Day 2: Travel to Big Children’s Hospital for Day Surgery, as the tests take place under general anesthesia.
Day 3: rest, resume some normal eating, rehydrate. Maybe, just maybe, start doing homework.

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