Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Doing What We Must...

Tuesday, October 5, 2010, 11:30 pm
Some days we do what we want to do.  Other days we do what we must.  My must came yesterday when I canceled my upcoming trip to Paris and Africa.  It was one year and three weeks ago, as we traveled along a beautiful road in Bosnia that my friend Angela Mason said to me, “So Laura, darling…” (Angela is British, so I’m always ‘Laura, darling’ to her.) “Next year we’re going to Mali.”  “Ummm… okay” I said to her.  “But Angela, where is Mali?” She then proceeded to tell me about West Africa and the work that World Vision has done in that part of the world.  We were going to see their water projects, specifically the drilling of a well and the dramatic difference that clean water can make for entire villages. 

I loved returning home from my overseas adventure last September (my first and very eye-opening one) with another trip already in the works. We talked about it as the weeks and months moved along and began planning for it. I couldn’t wait to see another part of the world and was thrilled that we were going to meet in Paris. I decided to go several days early to do a little sight seeing and enjoy the little sidewalk cafes I’d heard so much about.  We would spend a week in Mali and then return to Paris where I would unwind for several more days.  It was going to be a wonderful two weeks.  I would explore, write, learn and grow.  Perfect!

Then Christopher fell out of that tree.  April 21st.  Five months ago.  Paris and Mali didn’t even enter my mind during the time he was in a coma and hospitalized.  I was just thankful that he was alive and doing so well… thankful that my miracle child had survived!  We came home from the hospital and did our best to adjust to our new normal… living with a brain-injured child.  The weeks moved along and all of a sudden it was July and time to start thinking about my trip.  Oh gosh… that trip!  I’d pretty much forgotten about it, so now I needed to decide if I could still go.  Christopher seemed to be doing well.  He got up every morning, showered, brushed his teeth, got dressed and moved through his day beautifully.  He mixed words up occasionally, left key words out of sentences and was a bit forgetful, but he was alive and thriving so I decided that it would be fine for me to go.  I completed the necessary forms to receive my Visa, began the vaccination process and bought Rosetta Stone so that I could brush up on my French that was buried somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind.

My sudden 2-week trip to Oklahoma to be with my parents after my mother’s emergency surgery was the first red flag.  When I returned home I noticed that Christopher was, well, a bit foggy.  He seemed to be walking around in a daze.  His word confusion had increased and everything came a little slower.  On our way to a routine appointment to see his Doctor at the end of that first week home, I said to him, “I just want you to know that I’m going to mention to Dr. Mandac that I think you’re a bit more confused than you have been lately.”  Christopher agreed, saying that he felt the same way and was experiencing more Cogno-moments, as he likes to call them.  We discussed this sudden change during his appointment and one of the doctor’s first thoughts was that the disruption in Christopher’s routine caused by my 2-week absence was a likely explanation.  “But” said Dr. Mandac, “it could also be the result of several other things.  I’d like to do another CT scan to rule out the possibility of new bleeding in his brain and let’s do an EEG to see if there are spikes in the electrical charges/impulses in his brain which would not be uncommon after this severe of an injury.”  So the tests were done and both came back negative… no additional bleeding and no unusual electrical activity. 

As we continued to meet with doctors and his Neuropsychologist, the consensus was that my absence was the most likely cause for the change we were seeing.  The injury that Christopher’s brain sustained lends itself to confusion and disorientation with any disruption to normal routine.  Within a month of my return home, his fogginess cleared up and his speech and language returned to “normal.” 

The second red flag came when school began.  Christopher is excelling in all subjects except for math.  After extensive neuropsychological testing, the results showed that his language and perceptual reasoning skills fall into the 98th percentile or above.  As all of his classes other than math are language-based, it is no surprise that he is thriving in those subjects.  The parts of the testing that showed areas of deficiency however, were focus, concentration, attention span and speed of processing.  Ah ha!  That explains it!  The same side of the brain that controls speed of processing is the one where mathematical reasoning is done.  No wonder he is struggling.  Convincing Christopher that this is just a temporary problem and one that was fully caused by his brain injury has been no easy task.  He is very hard on himself and needs daily encouragement. 

“Hmmm…” I began thinking to myself. “I wonder who will do that daily encouraging while I am out of the country… Who will have the patience that only a mother can muster on an hourly basis?  Who will stay on top of him, gently reminding him of all that needs to be done before school, after school, before bed?  Who will be only 5 minutes away if, God forbid, something happens at school and he hits his head or has a seizure?  What if my 2-week absence, which will once again be a disruption in his routine, causes him to become ‘foggy’?  How will that affect his schoolwork?  How will all of this impact Emily?  Is it really fair to leave him in her care before and after school for 2 full weeks?  Will their sibling relationship survive that stress?  Oh gosh… what am I doing?  I can’t go to Africa… But I want to go so badly!  I’ve been looking forward to it for 12 months!  It’s going to be so exciting!  I’m all ready to go… my French is coming back to me!  It’s going to be such a wonderful break.  But what about Christopher?  What about my family?”

In the end, I realized that it’s just too soon after his accident, after the traumatic event that our family lived through for me to be so far away and for such a long period of time.  I need to be here.  Only 5 months ago Christopher was in a coma.  Today he is alive, healthy and thriving.  How could I possibly mess with that?  As Angela said to me today, “there will be other trips… we will have many chances over the years to go places… you’ll see…”  I’ll hold onto that thought for now.  And I will continue to count my blessings every single day.  

4 comments:

  1. Being a daughter, being a mom, making decisions one step at a time is all you need to do. You are doing exactly what is needed. Blessings to you along the way.

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  2. As a mother I hear your heart. As a women who would also like to travel to Mali, I understand your disappointment. I agree that being no more than 5 minutes away is the better choice. God Bless!

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  3. Margo, Colorado Springs:

    Thank you for sharing this, dear Laura. I feel your pain...and affirm your life-giving choice. Life comes to us in so many ways. May the smile of God's pleasure bring peace. And yes, Mali awaits!!

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  4. Hi Laura! Thanks for sharing your processing of this decision, and I too, think you are right on the mark. Just thinking that you processed this decision slowly, which yielded a good decision. Maybe that can be a helpful metaphor for Chris as he struggles a bit with math--that sometimes slower processing is the best kind after all! Love to you and your beautiful family!

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