Thought 33: For someone like you . . .

After we moved to the Atlanta area in 2006, I ended up having three different surgeries that delayed me looking for a new job, one several weeks before my start date. However, once I got back on my feet and healed, I was off to my adventure at the Carter Center. I have never been more proud to work for an organization. I turned 33 two months after working there and stayed until Megan was born three years later. I was continuing my experience as a fundraiser, but this time I was working with individual supporters. The mission of the organization that President Jimmy Carter started after his presidency is "waging peace, fighting disease, and building hope." I was in the right place. My position did require me to travel about 2-3 days twice a month, which was new to me. I met the most wonderful people in my travels from Los Angeles to Miami to Chicago to New York City (and many small towns in between). I felt like I really made a difference in my time with the organization and miss it many days. I was very honored to have the chance to interact with President and Mrs. Carter and later be able to introduce them to my Bob and my parents. Not many people can say they have square danced with a former President! Please check out the work of the Center as they are making a big impact for people all across the globe (http://www.cartercenter.org). 

As I sit down and write this post, I am enjoying the sweet smell of my pumpkin spice Yankee Candle. I LOVE Fall! Today is the first day of Fall and was my mom's favorite day of the year. It always gives me such a comforting feeling when this day comes each year. She and I shared our love for the Fall and upcoming holiday season. No one loved decorating for a holiday more than my mom!

This week I had a follow up appointment with my nephrologist (kidney doctor). I started seeing him after a bout of severe dehydration in May. My gastroenterologist wanted me to have someone to monitor my kidney function on an ongoing basis since I had elevated levels (the higher the number, the worse off your kidneys are functioning). I face a bout of dehydration that lands me in the emergency room or hospital about every year and a half or so. To make a long story short, my doctor told me that my blood work looked good, "for someone like me." I really like my doctor, but this phrase was not exactly what I wanted to hear. I guess I still hope that my body can return to "normal" functioning. I learned that he likes to see the average person under a 1 for their kidney functioning. I am a 1.3 right now, but "for a person like me," he is happy with that number. Because I lost part of my kidney when I had the cancer removed and I have faced so many episodes of dehydration (due to my Crohn's Disease and illesostomy), my kidneys are not at the same level of functioning as they were before I was sick. So, that's where I am now. I am fine and he is not concerned, because that is a good number for me.

I don't know if others out there have experienced the "for someone like you" experience. As I finished my 20-mile run this past weekend and I head into the last three weeks of my marathon training, I feel like I am in the best shape of my life.  I emphasize my life. I will have to enter my 40s and walk away from this marathon being comfortable with what is good and normal for me. I am missing a couple major organs and do not have a perfectly functioning body, but it works for me, which is what I am going to take away from the "for someone like you" comment. I am so fortunate to be as strong and healthy as I am that I need to embrace the body and mind that I have to take me through the rest of my years. I may have to see multiple doctors every 6 months to make sure that everything is ok, but I am grateful every time that they send me on my way feeling good about my status.

When I really think about my life and where I am, "for someone like me," I am super blessed. My story could have gone another direction, but I am right where I should be and could not be happier with my Bob and my Megan. I am actually very proud of myself. It's not so bad being "someone like me." I have no idea what the future holds for my kidneys or any other part of me. I think issues like my kidneys are the after shock of my Crohn's Disease and other health issues. I will probably be facing these issues for most of my life. My dad has also faced a lot of issues with his kidneys as a result of his Crohn's Disease, but overall, he is a very healthy man. Once again, I would love to follow in his footsteps!

When I think about "someone like me" and what I want others to think of when they think of me, it is not my health challenges or what I have overcome. Our minister at our church has been preaching this month about hospitality. When people think of "someone like me," I want them to think of someone they can always count on, someone that is a really good friend. I want to be the person that people know will always be there. Looking ahead, no matter what I do as a professional or where I live or travel, I want my biggest contribution to be the love I give as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece, and friend to be my greatest contributions. I want my family and friends to see my love as unique and true. Because "for someone like me," there is nothing more important.

Thought 32: Too fragile . . .

A life changing turning point in my life came the year I turned 32 years old. There were actually two "decisions." First, Bob and I were sitting on a bench outside of the University of Chicago to get another opinion about why I continued to be so sick. After numerous surgeries, my body was still not getting better. The Chicago doctor told me what I didn't want to hear but I already knew - I had to get a permanent illeostomy. It was my only option to feeling better and getting my life back. Looking back, it was such a simple decision, so obvious. But, I felt defeated and terrified at the time. We returned to Michigan and my wonderful surgeon, Dr. J, made plans to have the surgery in the spring. That same year, Bob and I made a decision to leave Michigan and return to the South, in Atlanta, GA. Bob had a wonderful job offer with Gray & Company and was in the midst of finishing his MBA at Michigan that fall. I was thrilled to live closer to both sides of our family, especially needing to be closer to my mom. We moved in October 2006. My surgery came with some complications, so I ended up having two more the following winter and spring, one in Michigan and one in Atlanta. My body finally started to heal and the Crohn's Disease became quiet. I just pray and hope it stays that way. 

There are always thoughts and topics floating in my head that I want to write about, but this week, my thoughts were halted and consumed by a tragic loss. On Monday, September 1, our dear friend Matt Cook collapsed during the running portion of the Cypress Triathlon in Houston, TX. He was raising money for cancer research through Team in Training. I received a group email from his wife, Stephanie, in the middle of the night on Tuesday morning telling us that Matt was in critical condition and needed as many prayers as possible. I read that and said prayers, but of course I assumed he would be fine. Dehydration and kidney problems? The doctors could fix those issues. No problem. Tuesday afternoon I was on Facebook and noticed some posts on Matt's page that he had passed away. I dropped my laundry on the floor and just stood in shock. How could this be? What? I called Bob immediately and told him the news. I could not stop crying.

Matt is one of the best guys I have ever known. He had the best smile and one of the sweetest hearts. Despite him being one of the biggest Ohio State fans I have ever known (their two dogs are named Woody and Buckeye), we loved everything about him. We met Matt and Stephanie when they moved in next door to us in Ypsilanti, MI. They were later relocated to Atlanta, which we were thrilled about when we moved there a year or so later. They accepted us as friends, although we wore our Michigan colors to their going away party when they made their next move to Houston, TX. We have kept up over the years, especially when we celebrated the birth of their kids, Macy (4) and Grant (2). They shared Macy's clothes with us when we adopted Megan. Some friends are just always there near or far and Matt and Stephanie are those friends. We just love them.

It's hard when we get a harsh reminder like this that life is too fragile. How could Matt Cook not be on this Earth? I thought of him all day on Saturday, thinking he should be at home with his family watching college football. Ohio State lost because they didn't have their biggest fan. I look at all of the procedures, surgeries, and hospitalizations I have had for a variety of reasons over the years, and I have survived them all. I have to go to the ER or stay overnight in the hospital for dehydration about every year or so. I do not know any details about Matt's case, but I just can't seem to understand how this can happen so quickly. My head knows why, but my heart can't seem to make peace with it. I can't stop thinking about Stephanie and their children. I just can't imagine. Too fragile . . .

On Thursday, September 4, I learned of the passing of another friend, my Dr. J (Dr. Jason Bodzin). I have written in the past that he was battling ALS. He lost his courageous battle the day before. My heart is with his wife and family. I talked to him in March and he sent me a donation for my fundraising for the Les Turner ALS Foundation and the Chicago Marathon. Although he has not been my doctor since 2007, we have kept in touch over the years. He was one of those special doctors that went above and beyond to ensure his patients were getting the best possible care. He used to come down to radiology when I was getting a scan or test and wait with the technicians to see the results. He didn't want to wait for it to be read. He always treated me like a daughter and made me feel like things would be eventually be ok. Thank you Dr. J. - things are ok. I am so grateful to his family for sharing him with so many people as he always gave more time than was asked of him. Too fragile . . .

My heart and prayers are with a family friend who is 32 years old and battling throat cancer in Arizona. Too fragile . . .

My heart and prayers are with my college roommate and her older sister Laura or "Lala" who has still not woken up from heart surgery on September 4, and has three kids and a loving husband waiting for her to show signs of improvement. Too fragile . . .

I am a protective person and just want to make everything ok. The thing about life feeling too fragile, then strength and support comes along. If you are suffering a loss, you have to surround yourself with strength and support, even when you don't have any. The same is true for facing a challenge, health or otherwise. Get mad. Get bold. Let your loved ones be strong for you when you are searching for your own strength.

I probably have not seen Matt and Stephanie for at least a year. They came into town and we had lunch. It was so good to see them both and we always talk about wanting to get together more. A month ago, I received a family update from Stephanie that discussed Matt's upcoming races and shared a picture of their new home they built and moved into on August 1. It just breaks my heart. One of the things I loved about Matt's obituary was the fact they shared all the races he had completed, including his first marathon. I thought of him a lot as I ran 18 miles this past weekend and I carried his strength with me. Rest in peace my friend and always know how much you are loved and celebrated. Now, I just have to find a time soon when I can hug my dear friend Stephanie. Life is too fragile, so I will do my best to fill my time with love, hugs, laughter, and hope.