Sally McDonald is the mother of three children, two college age sons and Maggie, who is almost 15. Maggie has numerous disabilities and medical issues that require 24 hour care. Sally is an attorney whose career came to an abrupt end when Maggie was born. She lives in San Francisco with her husband and Maggie and the college boys, when they are in town.

Sally writes a blog about life with Maggie and invites everyone to read it. www.sfmaggie.blogspot.com

Thursday
Oct062011

Just Dance!

A voice yelling my name at 4AM is a difficult way to start the day. Miss Maggie decided to yank out her tracheostomy tube in the middle of the night. I heard the yell and instantly bounded down the stairs, or so I thought. When I arrived I learned that the nurse had been yelling for 10 minutes. (why she didn't use the extra telephone line, I don't know).  She did get the old one back in. so Maggie was safe, but she could not get the supplies she needed to replace it and tie it around her neck. I did that in about 10 minutes and went back upstairs to bed. It was hard to go back to sleep with the adrenaline pumping like that.

 

This is not an unusual occurrence, in fact if you've read these posts for any amount of time, you've seen the same story before. Unusual or not, it's jarring and not something you get used to. This incident and so many others are examples of Maggie's fragility and tenuous grip on health. Even when the adrenaline slows down after an incident like this, the reality of Maggie's situation creeps back into my mind.

 

No one in this house lives life half way, including Maggie. You have to LIVE your life. Yes, Maggie has numerous life threatening conditions, but she lives her life to its fullest potential all the time. Sometimes folks are afraid of Maggie's health issues and we try to set minds at east as much as possible without denying the reality of her situation. 

 

 Recently one of the professionals working with her expressed concern about Maggie's rapid change in status. She's right to be concerned, and we have to be wise, but I don't want fear to prevent Maggie from living her life. I turned to her and said kindly and simply, "She's dancing on the edge of a cliff. Let her dance." 

I don't know where it came from, but that image has stuck with me ever since. The cliff is always there, we can't ignore it and we have to respect it, but we really can't do anything about it either. I like the image a lot. In fact as I lay awake this morning and some of that fear and dread started creeping in, the image comforted me.

 Forget that hackneyed "Glass half full" analogy. I'm sticking with this one. Maggie  is dancing away and we can either watch the dance or watch the edge. I'll take the dance, thank you.




I have to add this picture because after I wrote this I remembered this picture of Steve at the top of Half Dome Last year. I think this may be where I got that image. Maggie gets her dancing ability form her dad. My wildest activity is typing fast.
 

 

 



Thursday
Oct062011

Balancing Act

 

 

My secret to happiness lies in the balance of the good and bad things in my life. I write to demonstrate some of the wondrous things that we experience with Maggie. It is a positive view of a life filled with joy and love.  Obviously there are very difficult things that happen everyday and, while I don’t want to dwell on them, I write about those too.  While they do not define us, the challenges certainly shape us. The challenges Maggie faces and how we handle those is the interesting part of our lives. Neither the joy nor the problems are interesting on their own. It is finding the joy in the mist of those difficulties that makes our life interesting. 

 

We find our balance, but it is not easy. We walk a tight rope every single day. There is no net, but we are high up on that rope inching forward all the time. We get to the other side, turn around and come back again. We are not doing it to impress anyone; it is not for show. It is just our life.  Most people don’t even know we are up there because they are busy with their own lives on the ground where maintaining balance is a little easier.    

 

We can stay on that tightrope only with the balance.  It is a delicate matter of finding joy in the dark, of grabbing those couple of great minutes after hours of dealing with a problem. Perhaps I can appreciate those wonderful few minutes only because of the hard hours that preceded them. The lows are low and the highs are high, we need both to maintain balance.  I do not expect anyone to completely understand that, but I certainly appreciate it when people respect it, which almost everyone does.

 

Yesterday I encountered someone whose philosophy does not acknowledge the tightrope or the balance.  She “teaches happiness” and says we can all be happy by simply deciding to be and if we all made that decision problems would disappear, there would be no sadness in the world and the roads would be paved with lollipops.  That is simply not true. I make the best of my situation every single day. I have a positive attitude and consider myself a very happy person, but I cannot make Maggie’s problems go away. That makes me sad and the sadness is valid.  It is not that I am happy DESPITE the sadness, I think I am happy in part BECAUSE OF the sadness. I am proud of that.  I was deeply offended by her simplistic outlook, which ignored the proudest parts of our lives and the hard work we do.

 

 She knew I was not buying in to her philosophy and wanted to know why. As I tried to express my concerns and frustrations my voice cracked.  That surprised me. It hit me much harder than I realized. I knew then I was going to lose it and I just got out of there. I’m generally the first one to stand and fight, but It was “fight or flight” and I flew.  

 

 It’s back to the tightrope for me. There is a possibility that a person who leaves a "Happiness Class" in tears may be slightly out of balance. Or maybe I was providing the balance.  Who knows?

 

 I would take a bow, but I might fall over. 

 

 

 

Monday
Aug012011

Help Me Help Myself

People who are not dealing with a child with life threatening issues often want to know what they can do to be supportive. The greatest gift you can give is time. Provide help in the practical areas; bring a meal, do the laundry, walk the dog, watch the other kids. These will almost always be welcome. I would also caution, however, to recognize there are areas where your help may not be welcome.  Some things a parent has to deal with alone. 

A parent needs a strong base to handle the overwhelming responsibility of caring for a sick child. Even a house of cards will stand if there is a strong foundation.   All four corners of the foundation, including financial resources, physical, emotional and spiritual strength have to be in place.  A breakdown in any one of those areas can bring the entire house of cards tumbling down.  Having extra help in one corner can give the parent the break they need to concentrate on the areas where no one can help.

A parent has to find the resources and the physical strength to get the job done.  These are the areas where help is likely most welcome.  The financial drain on a family dealing with a catastrophic illness is enormous.  Insurance and programs are essential, and the energy it takes to deal with both is draining. Even when those fights are successful, there are so many additional costs that the financial burden can itself be overwhelming.   Resources can make the difference in a child’s life.   The type of physical strength or stamina required varies depending on the issue your child faces, but whatever physical demands are on the parent or caregiver, they have to find it within themselves or arrange for others to step in. Do not underestimate the gift of time. Providing a meal not only nourishes a family, but also saves the time of shopping and cooking. 

The other two areas, emotional and spiritual, are harder to quantify because each individuals make up, and belief system vary.  The only absolute is uncertainty.  Helpful actions in these areas are likely more passive. A rock to lean against and a shoulder to cry on are helpful, but pity and judgment are not.  

Handling the emotional aspects is difficult, at best. Everybody has a different way of doing things. Some arm themselves with information and facts to keep the fear of the unknown at bay. They become “experts” in handling their child’s condition. Some are in denial and cannot accept the issues their child faces while others become angry or withdrawn. Parents often learn to balance the harder emotions by finding the joy and beauty in small accomplishments or details.  All of these are perfectly valid. In fact, when a child is in crises, it is not unusual for the parent to feel all of those thing, expertise, denial, anger, and joy several times each day.   If outsiders find it unnerving to deal with so many emotions, they should try it from the parent side.  It is a hurricane of emotions and every emotion has its place. Allow the parent leeway and freedom to experience the emotions. Avoid telling a parent to feel happy and stay positive, or worse that they need to be realistic. They know. Sometimes the best help in this area is to let them know you care and are available if they need you.  

The spiritual is the most personal of all, because it involves the deepest values and meanings by which people live.  Yet, ironically, it is the area most susceptible to judgment and ridicule by others.  Parents find themselves at sea while they figure out this corner of the foundation. It is a personal journey but   parents are often showered with platitudes that may or may not be of assistance. Instead of being helpful, this actually puts an additional burden on the parents.    Perhaps it is difficult for others to accept a belief system different from their own, but respect for a parent’s belief system is the most helpful thing you can give.

 A child’s diagnosis with a life threatening condition forces a parent to figure out what they believe and whether that helps them cope and carry on.  For some, the spirituality piece is easy. They know what they believe. For others it is the hardest of the four corners to get into place.

Spirituality is what an individual believes about life. It may or may not include religious beliefs.  Some people have a hard time with this concept, especially if they are religious; for many spirituality is specifically tied to religious beliefs. If one has a specific Religion, the framework they know may provide comfort and guidance. That is true for me, but I know it is not true for everyone. Some who have never been religious in their life suddenly discover it as a way to help them through the dark. It is not uncommon, though for parents to lose or abandon God or their religion when faced with the prospect of losing their child.   They cannot find the comfort they need in that belief system and they alone need to figure out what works.  If a parent seeks your input, give it to them; but if they do not you might want to wait. Because it is so intensely personal, unsought guidance or advice, however well meaning, is often unwelcome resulting in hurt feelings all around. 

If you are in a position to help a parent coping with their child’s life threatening condition, consider how and where your help will be most welcome. Remember the gift of time because it helps to shore up all four corners, even the ones the parent has to figure out alone. 

 

 



Thursday
Feb102011

Replace the "P" with an "M" in Post Traumatic Stress

Maggie World

 

 

 

Sunday
Jan092011

At Full Tilt

 Someone asked me recently how Steve and I feel after 16+years of raising Maggie. My first (and flip) thought was “tired” but I did not answer that way. Instead, I said what I truly believe. We feel like every other parent of a 16 year old. Despite the drama and complexities, parenting Maggie has many similarities to raising any other child. We love her, worry about her and want whatever is best for her. The specifics are different but the general ideas are the same.

 Of course, the devil is in the details.

 Many parents of 16 year old girls have to worry about academics and getting into the right college, the impact of certain friends, whether she will make the sports team,  is attending her music lessons or, on the darker side drugs, depression and teen pregnancy.  We don’t have to worry about any of those things, good or bad. We worry about oxygen saturation and tubes of all shapes and sizes to meet Maggie’s physical needs and worry about boredom and difficult logistics when it comes to meeting her social and emotional needs.

 The common denominator is worry. That is what parents do.   Whenever someone says, “I couldn’t do what you do,” I feel very uneasy.  Of course they could and they would if it was their daughter.  Parents do what they have to do to protect and care for their child. I cannot say that either, though because people don’t want to imagine themselves in our situation. They find it tragic and sad and do not want to think of their own child like this. That makes me uneasy too.

 Our life is not tragic and sad. It is simply life.  Trying to fit a nice clean label on it just does not work, and the words “sad” and “tragic” never work. This is Maggie’s life. This is how she was born. She is a fully engaged young woman with a range of things to offer. If anything I wish people would try to appreciate the wonder of our experience and save the labels for the jam jars.  

 There are times when our life with Maggie is unbelievably difficult, but there are also raucous celebrations of the simplest achievements. You cannot spend 30 minutes with Maggie and still find anything about her life “sad” because she will have already made you laugh 10 times.

 Maggie is living her life at full tilt and we are just along for the ride. In her case the tilt is much steeper. It’s a tough climb up the steep incline, but it’s a great ride down. 

 It’s all in how you look at things. Just move your lens a little bit and what you see won't be so scary.