Food Sensitivities and a Miracle

At the recommendation of my nurse practitioner, I had food sensitivity testing done.  Today I received the results. Let's just say I have a lot of sensitivities, and I am in for a drastic lifestyle change.  There is a detox diet that starts me with a very limited menu, and I have decided that I won't begin that until after I return from our camping trip.  I think it will be too hard to follow on vacation.  I will be eliminating some things from my diet, though.  Things like dairy, wheat, turkey, beef, peanuts, apples, grapes, broccoli, and all processed foods.  Supposedly I will feel much better when I make these changes.  I certainly hope so, because it's not going to be easy. 

We are currently looking for a new pianist, as ours is moving out of the area.  From the beginning  people have been saying they wanted Old Pianist back.  OP played here for several years, and then left for a position at his home church.  That didn't work out, and he is at a neighboring church served by a friend.  I told them I would not recruit OP away from my friend.  I even warned my friend that my people were coveting his pianist.  Last week we interviewed 2 individuals last week, and we had concerns about each of them.  Today I finally managed to get in touch with one of the references, and it confirmed some of our concerns.  I asked the choir director to contact the reference, as he was the one who would be working most closely with the pianist.  I was sharing my concerns with the Treasurer when the phone rang. 

OP had heard about the position from my friend.  He thought it was a joke, and then found the posting online.  He wants the job.  I emailed the committee, asking if they'd like to interview him.  I very quickly had responses from 2 of them (who were responding from their mobile phones at work).  The responses were simple, "YES."  I think this may be a miracle in the making....

PTSD

Daughter's PTSD is making life difficult for her right now.  She is reacting to some of the things going on at the workshop.  I'm not sure how much of what she says is real, and how much is her need to emphasize that she doesn't feel safe.  These men need to learn to respect the boundaries she's setting for her, and I may need to block another phone number on her cell phone.  I told her to ignore the calls, but she says the one guy called her 6 times this evening.  She's been turning her cell phone off when he gets too annoying. 

The staff at the workshop is addressing the program with the men and their parents.  I'm just tired. 

Drama and Recovery

I think I'm about back to normal.  I'm working closet to my normal hours.  It feels good. 

Daughter was with me all weekend, and was not in the best of moods.  Finally, as we headed to the minor league ball park for a church outing, she told me what was wrong.  She had a new boyfriend.  He had informed her he had made reservations and was taking her out to dinner at a certain time.  He didn't ask her.  He didn't check to see if the date and time worked for her.  She informed him she wasn't available.  She identified the fact that he wasn't showing her respect, and it was reminiscent of her Oldest Birth Brother.  She decided to tell him she wasn't interested in him and ask him to stop calling.  She then acknowledged that life was easy and she was happier when she didn't have a boyfriend and wasn't seeking one.  Maybe that acknowledgement will get us a few months of peace....

The game last night was pretty bad.  As a pastor of a congregation attending the game, I was introduced on the field.  There was also a pastor's reception on the suite level, which was nice.  The game was pretty bad-- lots of errors.  The home team was soundly defeated.  Following the game they had fireworks, and that was pretty nice.  If you leave out the ball game it was a good evening.

A friend from seminary showed up in worship this morning.  We had a wonderful visit.  I last saw him 4 years ago at a conference.  His oldest daughter is close to 30.  I remember when she was born.  How did I get to be this old????

Daughter, the Soloist

Daughter signed up for special music last Sunday.  Administrative Assistant helped her pick the best song for her range.  Our sound guru stood by and adjusted the volume on her CD and her mic.   Her mic was down pretty low by the end of the song.  So this morning Daughter goes to find the sign-up sheet for special music.  She brought it in and showed me.  She'd signed up for this Sunday.  I informed her she could only do one solo a year. She got mad, and proceeded to pout. 

I went into my study and found her pouting on my sofa.  I informed her that if she wanted a job, she'd best learn to work through her disappointments, because pouting would get her fired.  Of course that just increased her drama.  She decided to walk home.  Of course it was too far, so I told her that wasn't a good idea.

Eventually she turned it around.  She helped take down tables downstairs, did a bunch of shredding, and was generally helpful.  She's helping with the kids' program at church tomorrow night, and we have a baseball game Saturday, so the plan is for me to pick her up tomorrow evening for the weekend.  I've already told her an attitude will earn her a quick trip home....

New Resident

Daughter's home is getting another new resident, and it is another woman moving out of her old home.  Her case manager has both homes, and is continuing to move people out, which means things haven't approved since Daughter moved out.  Daughter is not thrilled about the woman who will be moving in.  Daughter considers her difficult.  Of course, there are many who consider Daughter difficult, and I'm among them. 

She was dreading going to her program today, but this evening she told me she used her voice and spoke to a staff member about the man who she felt was harassing her.  She is satisfied with the plan to deal with it.  It's nice to have her dealing things without my help.

We had an interesting conversation this morning-- one of her friends wants to get an apartment with Daughter.  I asked her if she thought she was ready, and she said she wanted to try.  I finally asked her how it would have worked if she'd given Older Birth Brother that address-- who would have stopped him from seeing her?  She decided maybe she isn't ready....

One Week

Administrative Assistant was on a mission trip last week.  Next week she leaves for 2 weeks of vacation.  When she returns, I will be on vacation for 4 weeks.  So this is the only week we have together in the office in 8 weeks.  That means this is a very busy week.  Very busy.  One of the priorities for this week is getting some planning done for fall.  I like to kick off the fall with a themed sermon series.  This fall we will be using the story of the Exodus to reflect on our personal faith stories and the story of the congregation.  We are working on banners, new hymn verses, time lines, stickers, a drama.  So far it is coming together well.  We have volunteers working on designing the banners and writing the hymns. 

Today was our first day back together, and to say we were scattered would be an understatement.  We had to catch up on what went on last week, of course.  Treasurer needed some of her time.  I was playing with various ideas, and seeking opinions.  We had research projects we hadn't been able to complete without her help.... 

I'm pleased, though, with what we accomplished.  Our third Friday night children's program is this week, so the program director was hanging around the office for a while working on things.  The program is growing, and we're excited to see where it will take us in the fall.  We've had new adult volunteers each time, and more children have joined us each time.  I'm going to be the story teller and music leader this time.  We are taking July and August off, and will restart in September. 

Daughter was texting me about sexual harassment at her program today.  I kept referring her back to staff.  She wasn't too happy with me.  I wasn't overly concerned about it.  She tries for drama, but isn't having much luck with it....

Sometimes....

We have a trailer at the church that we use for mission trips.  We have a crew that got back Saturday from a trip.  They didn't get all their tools out of the trailer.  Someone cut the hardened locks off the trailer and stole the saw and air compressor that were still in there.  Sometimes it's discouraging.  We use this trailer and these tools to help people, and someone made those efforts a little more difficult....

PT Consult

I have a couple in the congregation who are retired Physical Therapists.  She sent me a get well card reminding me of their expertise.   Tonight I sat in worship with my wrist hurting.  It's been puzzling to me, because the pain is not where the break or plates are.  I asked for a consult after worship.  She suspects I have a bad wrist sprain, and prescribed ice.  She also suggested wrapping it in an ace bandage as a reminder not to use it too much.  She's going to bring one to the church tomorrow for me.  I'm grateful for the expertise within the congregation. 

I had promised Daughter I'd take her shopping this afternoon.  A couple invited us to join them for lunch following worship, and she offered to take Daughter shopping.  I was very grateful.  Even though I didn't have to preach this morning, I'm dragging this evening.  I'm still not back up to full strength, as much as I would like to be.  It will come....

Healing vs. Healed

Fresh off the good report from the surgeon, I went out to work in the yard today.  I did some things in the back yard, and then decided to trim some bushes.  I have an old manual pruner.  I completed one large bush, and started on another before my wrist began to hurt.  My work day ended at that point.  While my arm is healing, it definitely isn't healed. 

Daughter was very helpful.  She helped by spreading mulch.  There is still a great deal of work to do in the yard, and more mulch to spread.  I think I may have to ask for help.  I hate asking for help.  I know, though, that there will be people who are willing to give me a hand, and I'm grateful. 

Saw the Surgeon

I had an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon this morning.  He was very impressed with my range of motion.  He said that on average you can expect a loss of 15% of range of motion with the type of injury and surgery I had.  Less than 4 weeks later, I have a loss of about 20%.  He said I don't need to go for physical therapy.  I think that the typing I do on a daily basis has helped regain the motion.  After the surgery, I couldn't make a fist or touch the tips of my fingers to my thumb.  I have complete use of the hand and fingers now. 

I asked about restrictions-- he said I shouldn't engage in contact sports or lift heavy things yet.  I celebrated by doing yard work today.  I still don't have the stamina I'd like, but with Daughter's help I was able to get quite a bit done.  I'm pleased.  A church member mowed my lawn today, but I'm going to try doing it next week.  If I'm not up to it, there are several people who are willing to do it for me.  I asked specifically about mowing the lawn, and he didn't see a problem with it. 

Profound Words from Daughter

Daughter was not in a very good mood this morning.  Apparently she's been on edge ever since her first conversation with Oldest Birth Brother.  He's been calling her, and last night he finally went too far.  He called, and she told him she was tired and was going to bed, she couldn't talk with him.  He then sent her a text saying he needed to talk to her.  She called him back and asked him what part of "tired and going to bed" he didn't understand.  She told him she would call him when and if she wanted to talk to him again.

As we talked, more came out.  He was planning a trip to come see her.  He had a date picked out, but wouldn't tell her when.  She'd given him her address, so he just planned to show up at her house and surprise her. 

Refusing to respect her boundaries and planning a surprise visit without her consent were powerful triggers.  I explained that she was reacting out of the past, and that he was once again refusing to respect her boundaries.  I told her he'd violated her boundaries in the past, and she wasn't going to put up with it.  He also was showing her a lack of respect, another echo from the past. 

She was looking for answers as to why things were so bad in her birth family.  I understand, and she needs to understand that they are real people, and she can't control their response or emotional demands on her.  I suggested she thought they were like a museum.   She could visit them, learn things, and then leave and be done with it.  She liked that analogy. 

We talked some about the fact that she'd been molested.  She talked about the problems that created with boy friends, because she wasn't comfortable being physical with them.  "They took something important away from me.  It's gone forever, and I can never get it back."  She's right.  They stole her innocence, her trust, her ability to enjoy the sexual. 

I said, "I'm sorry your family disappointed you again."  She said she was a disappointment, too.  I assured her that she is not a disappointment, she's my daughter.  It was a good conversation, but I can tell that the contact with OBB is weighing on her.  I have assured her that she will not have to see them or talk to them if they show up.  He is almost 40 and lives with his Paternal Grandmother.  She was planning to drive him here so they could both visit.

During the termination of parental rights case, OBB acknowledged molesting Daughter.  PG testified in court that her sweet OBB never did anything like that.  He's an angel.  She insisted the other brother must have done it, "There's something wrong with his brain.  He needs an operation on it."  I will do everything I can to prevent Daughter from having to see them if she doesn't want to.  She needs to feel safe and secure in her home, and if she's living in fear of them showing up on her doorstep, she won't. 

Forgiveness

Daughter has been having somewhat regular phone conversations with her Oldest Birth Brother since she first talked to him on the day I broke my arm.  She seems to enjoy them, and I have not seen any signs that they are triggers for her PTSD. 

I'm having a harder time with the knowledge she is in contact with him.  He molested her.  Repeatedly.  She was 2 years old.  I don't want OBB anywhere near my Daughter.  He is part of the reason life is so hard for her.  Does she remember this?  I don't know.  I know she wants nothing to do with Birth Father.  For a long time she didn't want any contact with OBB.  Now, she's enjoying the contact.  He lives several hundred miles away, and at about 40, is still living with his Paternal Grandmother.  During a hospitalization he acknowledged that he had molested his Daughter.  PG insisted he never did anything wrong, and was an innocent victim. 

I know he was a victim.  I also know he was a perpetrator.  Daughter seems to have forgiven him, I'm having a harder time.  I don't want him to hurt Daughter again.  My challenge is to forgive him and to pray that this new relationship via phone and text message is healing for both of them....

Hard Conversation

Daughter came home with me after church and did some cleaning for me.  She did not want to go home.  She is frustrated with her life.  She wants to get a real job.  She wants to live independently in her own apartment.  She feels like she's stuck.  We have these conversations every so often, and they are always hard.  Always. 

I was able to tell her that Administrative Assistant and I were talking about her on Friday.  I told her we were impressed by how much she has grown and matured since she moved out of my house.  I pointed out that she is now at the workshop 4 days a week.  When we moved here, we decided she couldn't handle it at all.  When she started at the workshop, one day a week was overwhelming.  She acknowledged this, and told me it doesn't feel like she's making progress. 

She was once again saying she'd prefer to live with me.  Not happening.  There are times when my heart aches for her.  It's hard.  Today was even harder because I am so tired.  I was so tired I probably shouldn't have been driving.  But I got her home safely, and now I'm in for the evening....

I Survived

I made it through my first Sunday back in the pulpit.  It was good to be back.  Many people told me how glad they were I was back.  We had a big crowd today-- there were several family celebrations going on.  One woman was celebrating her 90th birthday, so her family was in from out of town.  I was careful to conserve energy, sitting much of the time before the service, and sitting through some of the hymns. 

I made it through the two meetings following the service, too.  They were both productive.  Now I'm home in my recliner.  I'm tired, but I made it through.  I'm grateful.  It really was good to be back, and to be welcomed back so warmly.

A More Productive Day

After the graveside service I picked up Daughter.  I came home and changed, and we started planting.  I was not as successful in starting seeds as I had hoped, so we went to the store and bought a few plants.  They are in the ground.  I did a bit of weeding.  Then I was done.  I don't think we're going to get the predicted rain, so I'm going to go out and water things. 

My stamina is improving, slowly but surely.  The incisions are healing well.  I'm getting more range of motion in my wrist, and am able to lift more.  Tomorrow will be interesting, I'm preaching, we have communion.  There is a fellowship meal after the service, and I have two meetings after the fellowship meal.  I suspect I'll be sleeping tomorrow afternoon....

Officially Old

I am officially old.  I have a graveside service today, so I have on my funeral dress.  My legs are too white and I hate wearing shoes without socks.  I was afraid if I tried to put pantyhose on, I'd be done for the day (just a shower still takes a lot out of me. The dress is long, so I put on some sheer black knee highs.  I have seen older women do that, and I always thought it a little weird.  I won't in the future.  It's much easier than pantyhose.  I'll be standing for the entire service, so I don't need to worry about anyone knowing-- except everyone who reads my blog. 

After the service I'm picking up Daughter.  If I have any energy left and the weather cooperates, I hope to have her help me in the yard.  It's not likely, but I keep hoping. 

Sigh.

Daughter's prescription issues have never gone away.  So the pharmacy the agency uses and that delivers prescriptions to the homes won't fill her prescription for test strips for anyone on Medicaid.  It is so frustrating.

Yesterday her blood sugar was 300 at lunch time.  She was given way too many carbs for breakfast.  I probably did too much yesterday and today, and I just don't have the energy to deal with any of this. 

Tomorrow I have a graveside service.  The family wanted a woman to do it, and the colleague they originally asked has a wedding at the same time.  I probably shouldn't have taken it, but it's hard to say no in a situation like this. 

I went over to the church today to write the graveside service and finalize Sunday's sermon.  I got them done, so my only obligation tomorrow is the service.  I think that will be enough.

Gifts

I received a phone call this morning from a regional church official.  He was looking for a congregation that would be willing to have a guest preacher on June 9.  someone had dropped the ball, and so he was trying to fix things and make it work.  I sent out an email to check with the board, and now I don't have to write a sermon next week.  I'm grateful.  It will give me an opportunity to take care of some other things that need to get done before I go on vacation. 

My lawn is being mowed by a member right now.  I am grateful for these gifts as I continue to recover from my injury.  I made it 4 hours today at the office.  Now I'm resting before this evening's choir party.  Daughter is making her special cole slaw for it.  I will be in the office for a while tomorrow.  I still have some work to do on the sermon for this Sunday, and I have a committal service at 1:00 on Saturday....

Blessed

There is an end of the year choir party tomorrow night.  If I want to go to it and be coherent, I can't work a full day in the office.  (I've been managing about 5 hours a day before I'm too exhausted to go on.)  Tomorrow is the day Daughter volunteers in the office.  The world's best Administrative Assistant is going to pick her up in the morning.  That will enable me to stay home in the morning and go in a bit later. 

I have someone who has agreed to mow my lawn for me this week.  The incisions on my arm are healing well, and the swelling and pain are both going down. 

Easing Back In

I went in to the church late today, and when Administrative Assistant got ready to leave, she told me I had to leave.  She was right-- that was 5 hours, and that was enough.  I was pleased with what I accomplished while I was there.  We decided that I would not go to the all day regional meeting 90 miles away from here in 2 weeks.  I decided it wasn't good use of my limited energy-- plus I don't think I'm up to the drive yet.

It is very frustrating for me not to have the energy to do the things I want to do.  I want to get out and start walking again, but know I'm not up to it.  Hopefully I will be soon.  I did discover that when I'm sitting at a desk typing and researching I don't have as much pain.  I'm not trying to lift anything or move in ways that cause pain.  That was good news.

We've been having some storms here today, and Daughter called me this afternoon to tell me they were scaring her.  She was about a mile east of me, so I was able to reassure her that the storm would be over quickly, as it had already gotten better at the church. 

Staff Issues

Thursday Daughter got to the church, and realized she didn't have the pills she is supposed to take at supper.  Staff gave her the insulin, but not her pills.  Treasurer volunteered to take Daughter back to get them.  I was very grateful.

Yesterday when I picked Daughter up, she told me she'd given staff a list of what she'd need for her time with me.  Last night she got ready for bed, and discovered staff hadn't given her the bedtime pills.  It was late, I was tired, and I decided I didn't have the energy to go get them.  So, she didn't get her night time pills last night. 

Today I emailed Home Owner.  There were several issues-- including the medication issues.  Daughter called shortly after I got home.  Home Owner called staff, and now staff was calling Daughter a liar.  She wants to move back here.  Sigh. 

Facing Reality

It looks like I'm going to have to acknowledge that I had major surgery 2 weeks ago and it is going to take me a while to recover.  I planted some corn seeds in my raised garden bed, and then had to come in and rest. We went out to lunch and came back and planted some strawberries.  I'm done for the day. 

Daughter has been super helpful, doing everything I ask of her.  It's kind of nice to be waited on....

Slow Going

I picked up Daughter this morning before worship.  Once again I was there just to worship, with no leadership responsibilities.  After worship we went out to eat and then did a little bit of shopping.  I had visions of working in the yard today, but buy the time we got home all I was good for was a nap.  I'm frustrated by how slow my recovery seems to be. 

Daughter has been super helpful today.  She even carried the 10 bags of mulch I purchased around to the patio in back for me.  She came prepared to work, but didn't complain when I needed a nap.  She has been on her computer while I've been sleeping.  Maybe tomorrow we'll be able to do some of that yard work. 

I told Administrative Assistant I'm going to come in a little later in the morning-- once I get there, it's hard to leave.  I know I'm not up to working full time yet.  I hope I will be up to leading worship next week.  I'm going to have to figure out how to pace myself-- not an easy task for me....

A Good Phone Call and Bills

Daughter called this morning, happy and upbeat.  She didn't try to convince me that she needed to come here early.  She knows I will pick her up tomorrow and she can spend Sunday and Monday with me.  She's accepted that.  She didn't try to manipulate me.  I like that. 

I'm still recovering.  I tried to do too much earlier in the week, and I've been paying.  Yesterday and today are both low key sit in the recliner and snooze days.  I'd love to be outside, but I know there isn't much I can do with one arm. 

My insurance has begun paying my bills.  I'm grateful I have good insurance.  Even with good insurance, I'm going to take a financial hit on this.  At least I'm through my maximum out of pocket for the year.  I wonder if I can convince the surgeon to remove the plates and screws before the end of the year.... 

Blessed, Again

This morning there was a mini-invasion.  One of the saints came and stripped and remade my bed, scrubbed out the bathtub, and ran the vacuum.  A couple came and used their equipment to pick up and deliver 3 yards of garden soil to my raised garden bed, filling the two new ones, topping off the two old ones, and filling in the holes left in the yard when I had a tree removed.  They also trimmed, weeded, and mowed.

I am paying for my excesses earlier in the week.  My wrist is swollen and sore.  I've been walking around holding my hand over my heart, in hopes that the swelling will go down.  It hasn't gone down, but I don't think it's gotten any worst. 

I picked up Kitten last night.  She was still with the friend who was going to care for her while I was at the Festival of Homiletics.  The friend had to fly out this morning for a family emergency.  It's good to have Kitten back.  A man just back from a European tour stopped by to visit, too. 

I am so blessed to be serving with this congregation.

A Conversation with Daughter

Daughter is with me today, and so we finally sat down and talked.  We had not really talked since I fell and broke my arm.  I told her the story of how it had happened.  We talked about her conversation with birth mother and brother.  I told her that the drama she hoped would get her my attention succeeded in pushing me away.  She acknowledged that she had claimed the foot pain to get attention after my injury.  I told her that if she wants to spend time with me, she needs to cut the drama. 

Yesterday I did too much, and today I'm exhausted.  I've never been very good at pacing myself.  Maybe I should learn.  I'm going to take Daughter out to eat and then drop her off at the church for choir.  Someone else will take her home.  I'm grateful. 

Spoke Too Soon

I arrived at the church today and announced, "I'm back!"  I had come up with some ideas for fall worship this morning, and was feeling great.  I sat down and began writing newsletter articles and working on liturgy for worship. 

Four hours later I had to admit that I wasn't back completely.  My neck and shoulders were hurting.  I shut down the computer, done for the day.  This evening I have my regular overnight retreat with my colleagues.  It will be our last one until fall.  Sister Best Friend is picking me up for it.  I'm thinking Thursday I will begin driving again. 

It did feel good to get back into the routine, but I didn't like being forced to face my  limitations.  I'm glad I'm not going to be preaching this Sunday....

Board Meeting

We had a joint board meeting tonight and revisited the goals we set in January.  The goals that had been set for me were the last ones we considered.  The first goal:  self-care.  I didn't think the laughter would ever stop.  They were pretty much in agreement that I was failing on that one.  I offered no defense. 

It was a good meeting.  We were looking at all the growth we've had in our ministries this spring, and it is very exciting to see how God has been at work in and through us.  I am so grateful to be serving with these people. 

They Listened and Remembered

Every year on Pentecost I go on a rant.  We aren't comfortable with the power of the Holy Spirit.  We don't like it when God comes in and shakes everything up.  I wasn't scheduled to preach on Pentecost, and a couple of weeks ago I preached on a story in Acts where they are struggling with the fact that God would give the Holy Spirit to gentiles.  I talked about how they moved from resistance, to amazement, to acceptance.  I beat the point home, pointing out the pattern in the Bible and in the history of the church.  I told them we want things to be done decently and in order.  I explained that since I wasn't going to be here in Pentecost, and so they were going to get my annual Pentecost rant early.  God doesn't always do things decently and in order, despite what Paul said in Corinthians. 

Today was Pentecost.  I was present in worship this morning.  The guest preacher was a retired professor.  He quoted the passage from Corinthians about things being done decently and in order.  The congregation burst out laughing, and a number of them turned and looked at me.  I'm delighted they remembered.  I explained their reaction to the preacher following worship, he was trying to defend his point.  I told him it was fine-- I just thought it was amusing, and was delighted to discover the congregation heard and remembered what I'd said several weeks ago. 

Sunday

One of the saints picked me up for worship this morning.  Daughter was already there, practicing with the choir.  It was good to be there.   People were very pleased to see me.

I was wearing my sling, and had the arm wrapped in a light bandage.  People were concerned because my hand was so swollen.  I thought it looked good this morning, especially after last night.  I discovered that just because the doctor said I no longer need to wear my sling, it doesn't mean it's a good idea to leave the arm hanging down.  By early evening the hand was so swollen I could hardly move my fingers. 

During joys and concerns I got up with a very short thank you.  Daughter then jumped up to talk about how wonderful it was to have me home, going on and on as I glared at her.  She finally realized I was glaring and sat down.  After church she came over and started talking.  I don't know what she was saying, but it was obvious she was trying to create more drama.  I told her to stop.  Gem said, "I think it's time we take her home."  So they did.  As I was on my way home, she called.  I told her I'd call her in a bit.  She said, quite sullen, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."  I thanked her.

I haven't heard back from her.  I suspect she got a lecture on the way home.  I'm so grateful she isn't living here and I don't have to deal with her right now.  So grateful. 

Daughter's Reaction to My Injury

Daughter is not here this weekend.  I decided I couldn't handle her drama right now-- I don't have the energy.

When I fell, Daughter was at a dance.  I knew she would be calling me when she got home.  I also knew that she would panic if she couldn't reach me by phone.   I handed my cell phone to Gem (Sister's name for one of the saints who has been so supportive).  I told her Daughter would be calling, and would panic, and asked her to provide her the reassurance she'd need.  I also told her Daughter had had a conversation with her birth mother that afternoon, so could be less stable than usual. 

Gem's husband picked Daughter up for church Sunday morning while Gem came to the hospital for my surgery.  I heard all about Daughter's dramatic meltdowns.  She explained that the anthem the choir was singing was one of my absolute favorites, and she always looked out while the choir is singing to see me smiling encouragement at her, and how important that was to her.  Of course, she had multiple people offering hugs and reassurances.  When I was told the story, I asked how the anthem went-- as I didn't remember it.  Gem laughed.  I pointed out Daughter can tell a great story.  I don't think I need to say that I am not concerned with making eye contact with Daughter during the anthem.  That is my one opportunity to sit quietly and reflect during worship.  Daughter came to visit Sunday evening.  I don't remember much about it-- I think she read me part of I'll Love You Forever for Mother's Day. 

Monday I received a text from a friend at Daughter's program.  They had read her the riot act, and told her that she needed to show her maturity and how responsible she could be and not try to create drama and pull the attention back on herself.  I was amused, and hoped it might work.  Daughter's response was quick and decisive:  she went home and convinced her house that she had terrible pain in her feet and needed to go to the doctor.  Gem was chuckling about the pain complaints when she brought Daughter up that evening, and suggested she might want to wear more sensible shoes.  I agreed.  Daughter also informed me that she needed to talk to my nurses when she was up there that evening, because she needed to make sure she knew what was happening.  I alerted the nurse, who was great.  He said to Daughter, "What questions can I answer for you?"  She was embarrassed, and didn't come up with any questions. 

Daughter stayed home to nurse her pain Tuesday and Wednesday, going to the doctor on Wednesday.  I wasn't thrilled with this response, but wasn't going to spend energy on it.  The doctor ordered blood work, saying she might have arthritis or gout.  I was perversely delighted to hear that they had trouble getting her blood, and after digging around the first arm, had to go to the other arm. 

She finagled rides over to see me Wednesday and Thursday.  Thursday she volunteered at the church, but Administrative Assistant is on to her, so she was cooperative and helpful.  Yesterday I had a series of texts from her telling me how awful her program was and how much she was suffering.  My response was the usual-- "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.  Take some deep breaths and listen to your music." 

Yesterday evening she called me, wanting to come spend the weekend with me.  She wanted to help me.  She'd make any recipe I wanted her to make.  She'd help any way she could.

"How are your feet feeling?"

I could almost hear her brain working in the silence that followed.  She knew there was no good answer.  "They still hurt but I'm pushing through." 

"I think you'd best stay home and take care of your feet.  I'd feel terrible if you came here and did something that caused further damage to them." 

She started complaining about being bored, and not having anything to do.  I assured her she did, and hung up on her.  She called later in the evening to ask about getting to church Sunday morning.   I suggested she called Gem and her husband.  They agreed to pick her up.  I have someone else coming to get me. 

I will be in worship tomorrow, just to worship.  We already had someone lined up to preach.  The congregation needs to see me, and I need to see them, to say thank you, and assure them that I am okay. 

Doctor's Appointment

Saw the orthopedic doctor this morning.  He's impressed with the motion I've managed to get back in my wrist.  Said I can dump the sling and bandages anytime I'm ready.  I can get the arm wet Sunday.  Stitches will dissolve.  Can't pick up anything heavy. 

Appetite is back, still working on getting strength back. 

The Story Part 4

I returned home to a clean house.  It was wonderful.  I've had visitors and helpers, and one woman stayed with me the first night.  I am working on regaining movement in my left hand.  It is still very swollen.  I was supposed to be in Nashville this week, and so I already had a sub lined up for this Sunday.

Little things are challenges.  I never realized how dependent I am on my left hand.  Daughter has had her moments and was quite dramatic Sunday at church.  She got lots of hugs and attention.  Overall, she has done well.

My appetite is slowly returning.  I tire very easily, and am taking naps.  Tomorrow I see the surgeon.  I think I will need to ease back into things.  The program year was winding down, so that shouldn't be a problem. 

I am very aware of how blessed I am. 

The Story: Part 3

Around 8 Sunday morning I was headed to surgery.  One of the saints from the previous evening reappeared to offer a hug and a prayer.  After 2.5 hours of surgery, I had 2 incisions in addition to the large laceration, and 2 plates held in place by 12 screws.  I don't remember much about Sunday.  Sister and Short Niece arrived, and Saint left.  One of my travelling companions for my now cancelled trip to the festival of homiletics appeared with flowers and a prayer blanket.  They left and Saint reappeared with Daughter and my breathing machine for my sleep apnea.  They kept offering me apple juice, but all I wanted was ice water.  That evening an attempt to get up for the bathroom or commode failed-- I was too dizzy when I sat up.

Monday was better.  I managed the bedside commode and then walked to the bathroom.  I ate a banana and some grapes, then another banana with some peanut butter.  I sat in a chair for 30 minutes before falling back in bed, exhausted.  I conducted "final exams."  A number of the people I trained in lay pastoral care giving stopped by to visit.  I was impressed.  They had learned things and were wonderful.  I told them they passed.  I heard that they had discussed the possibility of showing up all at once and doing all the things I told them not to do.  One informed me that they had believed me when I said I was a klutz, I didn't have to prove it.  I also heard that people were lined up to bring food when I got home.  I heard that people were mad because I didn't ask for help with the 40 bags of mulch I bought on Saturday.

Short Niece demanded to talk to me on the phone.  She had to hear if my voice sounded okay now.  Saint came back with Daughter.  A colleague stopped by with his wife.  I slept a lot.  I got IV antibiotics every 12 hours.  Back at my home, a team invaded.  The yard was mowed.  All the mulch was spread.  My garage was cleaned and organized (all tripping hazards disappeared).  My house was cleaned. 

The Story 2

I landed in my driveway.  I tried to stand up, but when I lifted my arm it bent the wrong way, so I knew it was broken.  I tried to find people in my cell phone, but couldn't get it to work right.  The neighbor kids were outside, so I asked them to go get their parents.  Their mom supported my head, they called 911, and their dad called 2 couples in the church, who headed over here immediately. 

The paramedics arrived and cut open my sleeve.  When they saw my arm, they told me not to look.  They convinced me I needed to go directly to the trauma center.  My friends grabbed the things I needed and started making phone calls.  By the time I got to the hospital, they had lined up someone to preach on Sunday.  They kept Sister informed. 

I spent 4 hours in the ER, with my friends beside me.  I was freaking them out, apparently.  My oxygen levels dropped, setting off alarms, every time I dozed off.  They finally started me on oxygen.  The surgeon decided to hold off on the surgery until Sunday morning, and with my entourage in tow, I reached my room about 1:00 a.m.

The Story

Saturday I was doing outside work.  I bought 40 bags of mulch and unloaded them into the garage.  I did a bunch of weeding.  I was interrupted by rain, and finally decided I would call it a day.  I headed out of the garage to grab a tool and put it away.  I got my feet tangled in some wire, and couldn't catch my balance.  I broke my fall with my left hand, breaking both bones in my wrist. 

I'm now home, but exhausted.  I will tell the story, but not all at once.  I don't have the energy right now.

hospital

I fell Saturday evening and broke my arm.  I'm recovering from sugery.  It was an open fracture  so I'm getting Iv antibiotics. Details when I get home-- probably tomorrow

Current: Independence Means Bigger Worries

Daughter called me this afternoon.  She asked me not to be mad at her, and told me she had something to tell me.  She tracked down her birth mother and called her.  She also called her oldest birth brother, who abused and molested her.  The last time she had contact with birth mother she ended up having 3 psychiatric hospitalizations.  The phone call was so hard on her that I decided that for her protection she shouldn't have any further contact with her birth mother. 

She assured me that it didn't bother her this time.  I hope she's right.  At least none of the birth family is in this area.  That's comforting.  I'm uncomfortable about the fact that I will be several states away at a conference for the next week.  She knows that.  She knows I won't be available for her.  I think she's got a good support system here.  I hope she doesn't need to test it. 

It also shows me her growing independence.  I am in control of less her of her life with each passing day.  I think that is a good thing.  It is also a very scary thing.  Very scary. 

Frustrations and Joys

Right now I'm very frustrated.  My mail order pharmacy was involved in a merger last year.  I was a little concerned because the pharmacy they were merging with had been a pain to deal with for my parents.  I saw my doctor last week, and she faxed in some refills for me.  It is taking them a week to process those refills.  This is much longer than I've ever had to deal with in the past, and unfortunately, that means I will be heading off to a conference without some of the medications I need.  Part of it is my fault.  I trusted that it would work the way it always has, and so it wasn't until this morning I went to the website to check the status.  The website is now less user friendly.   When I went to check on the status, it showed that several prescriptions weren't eligible for refill until the second week in July, even though they had last been filled in January.  I called.  It turns out that they are in limbo-- they've got them in process, so I can't order refills, but they haven't been completed, so it doesn't show the current order or a ship date.  I haven't looked to see what I'll be doing without.  I don't want to know.  Hopefully they will be here when I return from my conference.  Hopefully.  I should have been less trusting, especially knowing that the merger had taken place. 

Now for some joy.  Yesterday evening was our second monthly Friday night program designed to give parents a break and children some Christian programming.  We had more children participating, more volunteers helping, and it went extremely well.  Daughter signed up to help as soon as the sign-up sheet went out-- without checking with me, of course.  I hear she was very helpful.  I greet parents at check-in and check-out, and then was the story teller.  I really enjoyed it.  The kids were having fun, adults were having meaningful conversations, and it was fun.  We have a young woman who has been doing all the planning pretty much solo-- I have been urging her to build a team and delegate, but she has been slow to follow my advice.  I pushed a little harder, and yesterday evening she asked the adults for suggestions for next time and how it can be improved.  They provided some wonderful ideas.

We are going to do one more in June, and then will restart again in September.  It was great to see the parents coming in dressed for a date, and to see them return relaxed and smiling after an evening without the children.  I am so pleased we can offer this ministry to our community. 

Our community garden beds are all taken for this year.  This is the second year, and word of mouth got the 18 beds reserved very quickly.  I suspect we will be talking about adding some more for next year.

Monday morning I will be heading to Nashville for the Festival of Homiletics.  I'm looking forward to an opportunity to hear good preaching and learn more about how to proclaim the Word.  I'm going to make our reservations for camping, too.  It sounds like some folks from the church might join us at the state park for a weekend.  I think that's good news-- fortunately, these are people who I like and with whom I can relax.  I've never had members who wanted to follow me on vacation before-- fortunately, they are healthy ones who don't expect me to take care of them....

Current: 30 Day Review

This morning was the meeting to review Daughter's placement in the current house and her corresponding change in program.  The program changes were great, and Daughter is now doing cleaning, which means more money. 

The house issues are being addressed.  Perhaps most importantly, she now knows that Home Owner, Case Manager, and I will talk, and we will be on the same page.  She has been caught, and she knows it. 

Perhaps most interesting is that she is doing the same things at this house that she did when she was living with me.  It means they are doing a good job in that she feels like it is home.  It means that she is being very challenging to live with.  Overall, things are improving, so that is good. 

She came into the meeting with an attitude, and I informed her if she kept the attitude it would wear me out and I would be too tired to pick her up for the children's program at the church tonight.  She heard me, and managed to turn it around.  I am very pleased with the way it went.  I am glad that I no longer have to deal with the challenges that came when she was living with me.  Very glad. 

Current: Lies

I am being told Daughter is refusing to eat all vegetables at the house.  When I ask her, she insists she is eating them.  I asked her again this morning on the way to the church.  She insisted she is eating them now, and described mixing her peas in with her spaghetti.  Except Case Manager was talking to Home Owner who said she continues to refuse them all. 

I confronted Daughter, which resulted in tears and yelling and drama and....  She finally calmed down, apologized, and asked to talk.  I have asked the home to make her servings smaller and allow her to add salt, pepper, salad dressing, or whatever will make them easier for her to eat.  I also told her she needs to apologize to the staff.  I hope she will follow through and do that.  We'll see. 

Current: Summer

Daughter has begun her annual campaign, trying to convince me to let her go back to Tiny Village to visit.  She insists she can go on her own, and doesn't need me.  I told her to start saving money.  Apparently she's going to be given an opportunity to do some work at her program that will allow her to earn additional money.  I'm glad she's getting the opportunity, though it does have the potential to complicate things.  I've always been able to tell her she had to save a certain amount of money to do something, confident that she wouldn't be able to hold onto it that long.  I'll be in trouble if she actually learns to start saving money....

Current: Emails Flying

The emails were flying today, and the dietitian visited the home to go over the diet again.  I think we are making progress.  The Home Owner even responded.  We have a meeting Friday to evaluate how she's doing since the move and the changes in her program.  Case Manager sent out a reminder today, and told us to prepare to be there for over an hour. 

I'm feeling a little more comfortable about being gone for a conference next week.  Administrative Assistant will be my back up.  She knows how to handle Daughter, and Daughter trusts her. 

Current: Mama Bear Growls

Daughter was upset last night, because the Home Owner was concerned that she was using too many blood sugar test strips.   HO decided to limit the number of test strips she could have.  I never did get a response regarding the lunch issues, but assumed (hoped) that they now understood Daughter had to have protein in her lunch. 

So today Daughter began the day with 5 test strips, the exact number she needs to make it through a day.  When she checked her blood sugar at 2:45, it was 66, which is low.  If her blood sugar is below 100 she gets a snack before getting on the bus to go home.  With a blood sugar of 66, they needed to give her glucose tabs to bring her blood sugar up before she can have a snack.  They need to retest her blood sugar after treating to make sure it is coming up before she gets a snack. 

So Daughter called me, concerned, because she is afraid to recheck her blood sugar to make sure it's coming up because she doesn't want to get in trouble.  I tell her it's okay, she has to check, and if anyone complains, they should call me.  A few minutes later I get a call from a staff member at the workshop.  They have rechecked, and her blood sugar has dropped to 60.  They only have one test strip left, and are very concerned.  I ask how many glucose tabs Daughter has had, and they've given her one after each blood sugar check.  I explain that she should have 3-4 glucose tabs when her blood sugar drops to bring it up, and instruct her to give her another 3.  The staff member wonders if they can use someone else's test strips in Daughter's meter if they are a different brand.  No. 

I ask what Daughter had for lunch.  She says she had protein with her sandwich-- a "thin" slice of meat and a "thin" slice of cheese.  She also had sliced orange.  I suspect she may have been low on both carbs and protein, but for now the issue is getting her blood sugar up before she has to get on the bus.  She rechecks, and her blood sugar is up to 112.  I instruct them to give  her some trail mix and send her home.  I also state that we need to look at the orders for treating low blood sugars, because she should be getting 3-4 glucose tabs, not 1. 

Daughter calls from the bus, worried about getting into trouble at home.  I assure her she did what needed to be done. 

She calls from home, sobbing.  The only thing staff is concerned about is that she used up all her test strips.  A low blood sugar wipes her out, emotionally and physically.  She wants to move.  She doesn't feel safe there.  They won't listen to her.  I'm frustrated on a number of levels:

1. The staff at her program hasn't had adequate training.  The nurse scheduled and conducted the training without consulting with me or the dietitian.  Daughter is suffering as a result.
2. It sounds to me like we still have issues with her lunch. 
3. The nurse cut me out of the training, and as a result we have a staff that isn't adequately equipped to handle Daughter's diabetes.
4. The staff at her home seems to be more concerned about counting test strips than helping Daughter feel safe and secure.
5. When she got home after a low blood sugar, she needed hugs and reassurance, not scolding and blaming. 

Yes, I've sent off a couple of emails.  I'm scheduled to be out of town all next week, and at this point I'm very uneasy about leaving.  I desperately need the break, and I'm very concerned about the way the new house is handling Daughter's emotional and health needs. 

Predictable

Apparently, I have become too predictable.  Yesterday one of the men went into the cold pond and tried to clear the drain.  Another man took a picture of him and posted it to facebook.  I was surprised, because there weren't many comments.  Then I realized the gentleman who had posted it only had 21 friends, so I shared the picture on my page, where there was much more action. 

This morning there was quite a bit of conversation about the adventure in the pond.  The original poster said, "I knew if I posted it to my page, you'd share it to yours and lots of people would see it."  I think I have become a bit too predictable....

Current: Busy Day at the Church

Today was spring clean up day and we also had a sewing bee to make little dresses for Africa.  We had lots of people there working.  We spent much longer than we intended working on the dresses, but once we got all set up, we didn't want to leave.  When I got home, I realized I'd missed the entertainment outside.  One of the men had gone out in the pond to clear the drain.  Last week it was snowing, and we've had a couple of warmer days since, but the air temperature was only in the low 70's, and I'm sure the pond was cold.  A picture was posted on facebook.  I hope he was successful in getting the drain unplugged, but he sure looked miserable. 

Daughter has a friend moving into her house today, so I'm going to pick her up for church in the morning.  It's kind of nice to have a quiet Saturday evening at home.  I think I'll be going to bed early this evening....

Memories: The Road to Adoption

Once Daughter was free and available for adoption, I began to move forward with the paperwork.  Daughter had been with me almost 5 years.  I knew she had many challenges, and that life with her would not be easy.  She had suffered greatly at the hands of her birth family, and the scars remained.

Her Case Worker came with a colleague to do a pre-adoption visit.  Among the papers they had me sign was one stating that I understood that Daughter had suffered abuse which might lead to her developing serious problems, and I would not attempt to return her or sue the county should that happen.  I signed it, and both case workers witnessed my signature. 

Unfortunately, this wasn't good enough for the county attorney.  She demanded that I drive an hour to the county offices so I could sign the form in front of various higher ups and she could witness it.  I knew that who witnessed it made no difference as to whether it would hold up in court.  I was not happy about driving an hour (each way) to sign it again.  I was even less happy when I got there and discovered the attorney had forgotten about it and wasn't there.  I had to wait another hour for her to show up.  Case Worker was apologetic.  She thought it was ridiculous. 

Daughter was going through a rough patch, so my life was pretty stressful.  When I got in before all the various officials to sign the form again, Attorney cheerfully asked how Daughter was.  I said, "Disturbed.  You have taken over 3 hours out of my week that I didn't have to sign a form that I have already signed.  It doesn't make any difference who has witnessed the signatures.  Because I've had to take 3 hours to come sign this form, I will have to work longer.  You have taken away 3 hours I could have spent with Daughter, hours that would be much better spent with her."  Smiles froze on faces.  The tension was thick.  I quickly signed the form again and they witnessed it. 

Caseworker called me later to gleefully report, that the director had commented when I left the room that at least they knew Daughter would have a very strong advocate for her needs.

Current: A Day Off

Today  was my day off.  I hosted supper for two young colleagues and then we went to see a musical at a local high school.  It was very well done. 

Of course, to be ready for supper I had to do lots of cleaning.  I also mowed the front lawn.  I tried to new recipes, which were both good. 

Case Manager asked dietitian to take care of the lunch menu problem.  Dietitian said she would.  I haven't heard anything from Home Owner yet. 

All in all, it was a very good day.  The two young women I had over for supper are going with me to the Festival of Homiletics in just over a week.  I was meeting one of them for the first time.  I'm looking forward to the trip even more now.  I know I'll enjoy the conversations with them.

Daughter has called a couple of times, but seems to have had a good day.  A friend from the old house is moving into the new house tomorrow, so Daughter isn't coming here tomorrow.  I will pick her up Sunday morning for worship, and when I get done with my meetings, I'll bring her back here to relax her hair before taking her home.  She has a dance she is excited about on May 11th. 

Current: Challenge at the New House

Daughter called this evening, quite distressed.  Her lunch for tomorrow was going to be two slices of bread and an apple.  She said that was all the dietitian allowed her for lunch, and asked me to talk to the dietitian and straighten things out.  I was skeptical, but staff confirmed that the lunch menu did not include any protein.  I said she had to have protein, and they said they weren't allowed, I'd have to talk to their boss. 

Daughter had wanted to buy lunch at Subway tomorrow, and I had discouraged it.  After the conversation, I told her to buy lunch tomorrow.  I also emailed the home owner and copied Case Manager.  I realize that no place is going to be perfect, but I find it amazing that staff wouldn't realize that two slices of bread and an apple are not an appropriate lunch.  I'm very grateful that Daughter has enough understanding about her diabetes to recognize that the lunch was wrong....

Current: Back Online

The service tech showed up today and got me back online.  I'm grateful.  He wasn't within the time window they gave me, but that's okay.  I live close enough to the church that I just tell service people to call me when they are on their way and I will meet them at the house. 

Daughter was at the church today.  She did some shredding and also cleaned out my car (without being asked!)  I took her to supper, and now we're back at the church for choir.  She actually listened when I counseled her not to get involved in the drama that took place at the workshop today. 

I am tired.  I haven't been sleeping well. I know that I need a break, and one more week and I'll get one.  I'm looking forward to going to the Festival of Homiletics in Nashville on the 13th. 

For now, though, I have some work I need to get done. 

Current: Duh

Sunday night I lost TV, internet, and my home phone.  Monday night I went online on my smart phone and did the trouble shooting.  When the trouble shooting didn't work, they directed me to a chat page which wouldn't load on my phone. 

Yesterday I called customer service from the church. 

"What is the number on your account?"

I dutifully recite my phone number.

"What is your problem?"

I explain that I don't have phone, TV, or internet.

"Is the number on your account a good number to use to call you back?"

"No, as I just told you, my phone isn't working." 

"Oh, is there another number where we can call you back?"

It took 20 minutes to get to the point where I was informed they couldn't help me because I wasn't at home in front of the box.  I told them I'd done all the trouble shooting listed on line, and it still wouldn't work.  That didn't make any difference.  I had to call back and get back in line when I was at home in front of the box (on my cell phone that tends to drop calls in the room where the box is located).  I was assured customer service lines were open 24/7.  I got home and finally decided to try again.  I went back online, and discovered customer service lines aren't open 24/7.  I called and waited on hold.  The recording helpfully suggested I go online and use the trouble shooter to solve my problems.  Finally I got to a person.  Once again I was asked if the out of order number was a good number to use to call me back.  I explained I had rebooted numerous times, that all the cables were securely attached, and that I had the red no service light flashing.  He made me reboot.  I had to tell him the color of each cable and which port it was in.  I had to assure him the cables weren't damaged.  Then he informed me my box was old and out of date and they'd have to send me a new one.  He instructed me that I should transfer one cable at a time to the new box to assure they got into the right port.  I asked how long that would take to get the new box.  Then he said, "Oops, they are on back order." 

Tomorrow morning a technician is supposed to come and replace my box.  I hope the technician brings a box.  I hope that's the problem.  I was also informed it could take up to 4 hours to fix the problem.  It is very strange, not having access to the internet via my computer at home.  The smart phone just can't do everything.  It has been a frustrating week.  Computers in the office were misbehaving today, too.  There are days when technology is not my friend. 

Memories: Limbo

Daughter was now in limbo.  She was not eligible for adoption, and she couldn't return to her birth mother.  I remained her foster mother.  The Case Manager hadn't realized that they couldn't re-file the case without coming up with new grounds.  I think we were all exhausted from the long ordeal.  I didn't explore guardianship at this point.  I was aware of Daughter's precarious situation.  My physician sent me for a TB test because of some blood work or something.  I knew that if I were diagnosed with TB, Daughter would be moved to another foster home.  I knew that if something happened to me, Daughter would lose my entire family.  She had been warmly embraced as the first grandchild. 

The phone visits with birth mom continued.  I enrolled Daughter in school (a year late).  I continued to struggle in a difficult ministry, while owning a home in a very bad neighborhood.  We heard gun fire.  The police helicopter circled overhead, and some nights I would see the search light through my bedroom window. 

Then came the miracle.  One Sunday birth mother was looking in her Bible to pull out a picture Daughter had drawn for her.  Her Bible opened to the story of Saul ordering a baby cut in two, with half given to each of two women claiming to be the mother.  Birth mother decided it was a message from God, and she decided to voluntarily relinquish parental rights, making it possible for me to adopt Daughter.  I was happy, relieved, amazed, you name it.  It was the most wonderful gift Daughter and I could have received. 

Current: A Disturbing Call

Yesterday afternoon I received a phone call from Daughter, who was with Case Manager.  Daughter was obviously upset, and was crying.  They put the call on speaker phone.  Case Manager was confronting Daughter with everything wrong she'd done at the new house.  Apparently she's been getting up at 6:00 a.m. and blasting her music, and has not always been cooperative with staff.  I reminded Daughter again of the importance of respecting staff, and that she has both ear phones and ear buds for her music. 

Of course she wanted to die, and needed to leave right away, and....  Once she was done being dramatic, we were able to talk.  She was embarrassed more than anything, and couldn't figure out why the staff didn't come to her with the problems instead of going to the Case Manager.  I think she has a good point....

Memories: Court Part 3

Eventually, the psychologist joined my crusade to get the visits stopped, they got the guardian ad litem to court, and the visits were stopped.  Of course, I was still dragging Daughter to court as the hearing on termination of parental rights continued.  When the hearing finally concluded, the judge delayed ruling.  The speculation was that there was no money left for court appointed attorneys, and birth mom would need one if she decided to appeal the ruling. 

Finally, the order came down.  Dad's rights were terminated over both children (the oldest was living with paternal grandmother, and was not part of the case).  Mom's rights were terminated over brother.  They were not terminated over Daughter.  By this time, the judge realized that Daughter could not be returned to mother, but he'd already dismissed the case with prejudice.  He suggested the possibility of long term guardianship be explored.  Daughter continued to have a relationship with mother via phone and occasional visits (she had moved to the other side of the state to be close to her family, so wasn't in town very often for visits). 

I continued to be her foster mother, and nothing more was said about guardianship.  As Daughter grew more verbal, she began to ask more questions.  One night she confronted her birth mom with a series of memories, and after each one she said, "And what did you do."  The memories included a knife fight between the brothers and stepping on a nail on the steps.  Birth mom was amazed she remembered the knife fight, as she couldn't have been more than 18 months old when it took place.  She also commented, "All she remembers are the bad things."  Interestingly, she didn't confront her over the sexual of physical abuse.  Of course, like many victims, she thought it was her fault.  I remember the day she said to me, "Mom, I tried to be a good baby.  I really did.  I don't understand why they hurt me that way." 

The explanation I gave her as to why she couldn't live with her birth family was quite simple:  she deserved to be safe, and they hadn't been able to keep her safe.  I continued to offer lots of assurances that she was safe with me.  To this day, safety is her number one need. 

Current: Ten Hours

Last week took a heavy toll on me.  I had 4 12 hour days, 5 evenings at the church,  and was dealing with some challenging pastoral care situations.  Last night I slept 10 hours.  It helped.  This week I'm back to 3 evenings at the church.  I'm also beginning the countdown.  I have one more class to teach on lay pastoral care giving.  I have 2 more sermons to preach.  Then I have a week in Nashville for the Festival of Homiletics.  I'm looking forward to that week away. 

I love serving this congregation, and things are going very well here.  I'm grateful that Daughter is now in a safe place.  My life is much more flexible when I don't have to work my schedule around her schedule.  It's also nice to have her closer, which makes it much easier to pick her up and drop her off. 

I do recognize, though, that I need to pace myself, or I will burn out.  For now, though, I'm grateful for 10 hours of sleep, a lighter week, and an upcoming break. 

Current: Helpful

This morning, as I was getting dressed, I called Daughter to come zip up my dress.  She was delayed, and apologized, explaining that she was taking care of my laundry.  I had done laundry yesterday, but had left many of the clean items piled in a laundry basket.  On her own, she decided to fold them and put them away for me.  She put my clothing items on my bed, and she put the linens away in the linen closet.  She left the laundry basket empty.  I don't remember the last time it was empty.

Yesterday she worked with me in the yard.  I was edging, and asked her to sweep up after me.  She hates sweeping.  She did it all, and did a decent job.  I like the young woman she is becoming.  I realized this morning that it has been 7 years since she graduated from high school.  I don't know where the time has gone.  She has come a very long way in the those seven years.

I was talking to her Home Owner when I picked Daughter up yesterday.  When I went to the car, I explained to Daughter that I had been sharing with her all my secrets for handling Daughter.  She said, "Oh Mom, you don't have to do that.  HO understands me." 

Today I have much for which I can give thanks. 

Memories: Court Part 2

The county was trying to terminate parental rights over Daughter on the grounds that Birth Mom was psychologically unfit and that she had no bond with Daughter.  The only problem was the attorney tried to get the psychological evaluation admitted into evidence without having the psychologist there to be questioned about it.  So, dad's attorney challenged it, and judge ruled it couldn't be admitted.  After the county rested the case, dad's attorney asked to have it dismissed.  The judge adjourned to consider the request, and came back and dismissed the case for termination of mom's rights over Daughter with prejudice-- meaning it couldn't be brought back.  

I was asking the psychologist Daughter was seeing (who definitely wasn't the best) to get the visits with dad stopped.  She couldn't understand why I wanted to do that.  Finally, she observed a visit.  She noticed Daughter wouldn't touch any of the things from the toy cupboard that had been out for that visit following the visit.  Then she looked back over her notes, and realized that anytime Daughter had a visit, she regressed.  She decided maybe it wasn't good for Daughter to see him.  So we went to court to stop the visits.  But dad's attorney didn't want to consider such an important issue without the guardian ad litem present to give and opinion.  So they went forward with the termination case while waiting to get the guardian ad litem to court to stop visits.  I still don't understand why it was more important to have the guardian there to stop visits than  it was to terminate parental rights.  I am convinced that for dad's attorney, it was all a game.  He did lots of things to delay and complicate things. 

While he was playing his games, I got to deal with the aftermath of each of Daughter's visits to court.  One day I testified that Daughter had asked me to kill her daddy.  After I testified, dad's attorney came out with a calendar, asking when dad could next see Daughter.  I lost it.  "I hope you can sleep tonight, because Daughter won't sleep for the next two weeks.  You keep bringing her here, making her see her abusers, and then for the next two weeks she's afraid to go to bed."  The caseworker grabbed me and pulled me into another room.  I think she was afraid I was going to physically attack him.  I might have.  I think it was the first time I went into mother bear mode. 

Of course, I still had to bring her to the visits and to court, but I'd like to think some of the fight went out of the attorney at that point.  He stopped the delaying tactics, and eventually we were able to get the visits stopped.  The ruling on termination of parental rights took more time. 

Memories: Court Part 1

These memories are hard, and are going to come in small chunks.  It was a very traumatic time, and the memories still anger me.  It was my first inside experience with our judicial system.  It was during this period that I developed the conviction that we don't have a justice system, we have a court system, and there is a huge difference. 

The case to terminate parental rights took over a year.  We'd have a day or two in court here, and then a month later another day.  The court's attorney was a political appointee and not very bright.  That's the kind characterization.  Birth Mom had a court appointed attorney, who was going through the motions.  Dad hired an attorney from the largest county in the state.  He had previously worked representing the county in these cases, but had burned out on it and entered private practice.  He knew all the ins and outs, and for him, it was a game.  He was running circles around the county attorney, who was clueless. 

He started by sending Daughter a subpoena for every court date.  Daughter was about 5.  She couldn't put together complete sentences.  She was in no way a reliable witness.  Every court date, I'd have to drag her over there to sit at the court house all day.  He never called her to testify, and the county attorney was so dumb she never thought to have the judge rule that Daughter was not competent to testify and end the subpoenas.  So once a month or so I'd drag Daughter over to the court house and try to keep her entertained and quiet all day.  Once a month or so Daughter would be forced to see all the people who has abused her, and would regress for the next several weeks as a result.  Once a month or so the system would traumatize her one more time. 

Current: Communication

I'm going to have to talk to Daughter's new house about communication.  She tells them things, and doesn't think they are listening.  They say okay, but when they don't immediately follow through, she thinks they aren't listening.  Today she was upset because she was running low on test strips, and the staff member said okay, but didn't give her another bottle.  I finally asked how many she had, and she had 5.  I pointed out that was enough to get her through the day, and she didn't need to worry about it. 

If the staff member had simply said, "You have enough to get you through the day, and I'll give you more when you need them," Daughter would have been fine.  Daughter is counting her pills now, and has had to point out she didn't have all her pills a couple of times.  This house is still far superior to the last one, but there are adjustments and frustrations. 

Current: Odds and Ends

We have been working on recruiting volunteers to do some work in the office.  When I arrived, we had volunteers who came in to fold the bulletins on Friday.  Those two women died, so I've recruited two new ones.  Now we've added a volunteer who comes in on Wednesday and Daughter comes in on Thursday. 

It has made a huge difference in our ability to get work done.  We continue to find more things our volunteers can do.  It's nice-- people seem to be understanding that the office is often overwhelmed.  We are planning to do some cleaning and reorganizing this summer.  Hopefully with a slower pace, we will be able to accomplish that. 

After beginning the week with 3 12 hour days, my cold symptoms that turn up when I'm over tired have reappeared.  I'm almost ready for Sunday, and hope to be ready before I take Daughter home tonight after choir.  I'm looking forward to doing some work in the yard tomorrow.  We had some more snow today.  I think everybody here is ready for spring to come and stay.  It's been cruelly teasing us....

Memories: Inner City School Battles

Daughter's first 3 years of school were exceedingly difficult.  We did not live in a good neighborhood, and her school was rather chaotic.  With her extreme PTSD, she found it very difficult.  It was a major battle every morning to get her off to school.  The school refused to believe there was a problem.  When her PTSD was triggered, she'd shut down.  They saw her as a quiet, compliant student.  They informed me that no child wants to go to school. 

She began cutting herself when she was in first grade.  Her first therapist was not very helpful.  She had done battle with a school before, and lost, so she was unwilling to go to battle again.  I remember sitting in a meeting with the school psychologist in which she informed me Daughter was like her children, and they were all perfectly normal.  I said, "Oh, do your children cut themselves on the fresh air return of the furnace because it's the only sharp thing they can find in the house?"  She was horrified, "Of course not!"  Daughter did.  They refused to acknowledge the problem.

Part of the challenge was she still was having trouble communicating.  She could now talk and form complete sentences, but she was unable to explain why she was so terrified of school.  She became obsessed with the Power Rangers.  I didn't approve, and didn't want her watching it, but then she began insisting she had to wear pink every day like Kimberly on the Power Rangers.  I realized she was seeing them as capable of keeping themselves safe from monsters, and that identifying with Kimberly was making it a little easier to get her to school. 

With second grade came a new therapist and psychotic episodes.  Her teacher was off sick, and the subs couldn't control the class.  A little boy mooned the class one day (but Daughter couldn't tell me).  She was convinced there were snakes in her desk.  She began poking herself with sharp pencils in school.  We had her evaluated and an IEP meeting.  The teacher insisted there was absolutely nothing wrong with the child, the problem was the parent.  We set up a safety plan-- if she felt like injuring herself, she'd go to the principal's office.  I began getting calls to come get her, she wasn't safe.  They still refused to acknowledge that it wasn't working for her to be in the regular class room. 

The principal observed, and reported Daughter was quiet and well behaved.  A special ed teacher observed, and reported Daughter looked terrified and didn't seem to understand what was going on.  Finally, we got an independent psychological evaluation.  The psychiatrist wrote a letter, explaining that Daughter was having psychotic episodes.  Sister took a day off from teaching her class of emotionally disturbed children to come and advocate for Daughter in a second meeting.  Daughter insisted on being there to speak for herself.  She informed them that there were snakes in her desk and monsters in the classroom and the teacher couldn't keep her safe.  The teacher scoffed, the independent psychologist informed her that for Daughter, those snakes and monsters were real.  We finally got her into a smaller class for children with emotional problems.  She was less overwhelmed, and it was easier to get her to school. 

I realized that part of the issue was that I was often the only white person in the room at these meetings.   I was seen as the enemy, depriving Daughter of her cultural heritage.  The other children, knowing Daughter had a white mom, began calling her a skunk.  I didn't find out about this until years later-- she couldn't tell me at the time.  It was an ongoing guessing game, trying to figure out what she needed and why she was acting out.  I spent hours rocking her and singing to her in the evenings.  It was a hard time. 

Current: Blackout

Daughter claims she blacked out at her program yesterday.  I was busy with a pastoral call, and didn't get the phone message until long after the event.  She was sobbing hysterically, saying nothing like that had ever happened to her before.  They handled it well, remaining calm, and by evening she was fine.  I haven't even talked to her today-- just a few text messages. 

I think she is continuing to grieve the loss of her dreams.  It's not easy being Daughter. 

I'll try to write more of her history tomorrow.  This is a very busy week-- I'm into my third 12 hour day in a row, so I'm tired and don't have the energy to write it now.  Plus, I want to get as much work done as possible so I will have Friday off this week.  I think I wrote everything I need to write for the newsletter today.  I'm doing  premarital counseling with a couple tonight, but first I'm going to go get some supper.  I'll take some work with me.  It's a good thing I love what I'm doing so much....

Memories: Seeking Safety

Safety has always been very important to Daughter.  She has special difficulties at night.  Of course, one of her brothers testified in court that when she cried at night their dad would go in and backhand her.  I'm also pretty sure she was molested at night. 

For years, she sought a safe place to sleep, especially when other things were triggering her PTSD.  She never wanted her bedroom door closed-- though she now sleeps with it closed.  I remember the day she was throwing a tantrum.  I picked her up to carry her into her bedroom and put her on her bed.  When I started to close the door behind me, she panicked, holding up her hand and saying, "No!  No!  No!"  I told her she needed to stop crying then.  It was a struggle for her, but she stopped.  She did not want to be alone in her bedroom with the door closed.

Once, when she was afraid of the monster in the closet, I asked her what the monster looked like.  Her response was quick, "Daddy." 

After watching the Start Trek episode Shore Leave, in which Dr. McCoy stands in front of a female crew member to protect her from a knight on a horse, she named my big teddy bear Dr. McCoy.  She took him everywhere to protect her.  She slept in her bed for a while, then she moved to her closet.  She tried the guest room, then my closet.  She slept on floor of my room.  It finally reached the point where she couldn't sleep unless she was literally sleeping on top of me.  She wouldn't go into the bathroom without me, and she wouldn't take a bath.  She would only take a shower if it was with me and I stood between her and the drain.  She was afraid she would slip into the drain, where her brothers and father were waiting for her.

She had also begun hearing voices.  At age 7, she went on her first anti-psychotic.  For the first time in weeks I was able to shower alone.  I couldn't believe how good that felt.  I hadn't realized how stressful it was to have her next to me all the time.  She no longer needed to be sleeping on top of me, which meant I slept better. 

For years stress would drive her to the floor next to me bed to sleep.  I can't imagine what it must be like not to feel safe in your bedroom or the bathroom, but that's what her birth family had done to her.   

Current: Meltdown

Daughter is now sleeping on the sofa in my study.  A little while ago she was sobbing as though her heart were broken.  She wants to be normal.  She wants to live independently.  It's not fair that she was born with mental issues.  She wants a real job.  It looks like her life will be moving from group home to group home, and that's not what she wants.

So what prompted this?  I think the big thing was people asking her how she likes her new home.  It got her to thinking about the things she doesn't like about it.  She doesn't feel they are listening to her.  She says they write things down, but never act on them.  The owner has been promising to get her cable TV in her room, but hasn't followed through yet.  She feels like they are making empty promises, that she isn't being heard.  She saw this as another step towards independence, but she doesn't see them doing anything to encourage her independence.  She wants to be responsible for her own meds and insulin.  I told her she needed to learn to be responsible with her money first.  She doesn't see how that can ever happen.

It's hard being Daughter.  Very hard.  She has escaped into sleep, I have too much to do to sleep.  So I'm looking at her and grieving for her.  We will be heading to the nursing home for worship soon, and then I will drop her off and come back here to finish my preparations for the class I'm teaching at 6:00. 

History: Communication

Daughter gradually began to talk, and as she began to talk, I began to realize what all she'd lived through.  I remember one evening she was just in a bad mood.  I finally asked her what was wrong.  She said, "[teen brother] snake mouth."   I repeated it, and pondered.  Suddenly it hit me.  "Are you telling me that [teen brother] put his snake in your mouth?"  She was adamant, "Yes."  Then she waved her hand in front of her mouth.  "Yucky." 

Once she'd told me and I'd understood, her mood improved.  I just felt sick.  She talked about it several more times, once telling me that soap came out of it.  I didn't want to believe it, but it certainly did explain so much.

She continued to have court-ordered visits with dad.  I didn't tell her in advance that I was taking her for a visit, because I didn't want to distress her.  I'd tell her when we were on our way.  One day as we headed to the visit she said to me, "Mommy, you killed my daddy."  As you can see, she had begun speaking in sentences, though it could still be challenging to figure out what she was talking about.  I was horrified by her accusation, and assured her I hadn't killed her daddy.  She repeated this several times, and then she said, "Mommy, I want you to kill my daddy."  She was sitting in the front seat, and having said that, she reached across and grabbed my arm, wrapping herself around it.  It took a very long time to get the visits stopped, and I'll talk more about the court battles later. 

Current: Drama Queen

Thursday night I accidentally left my cell phone at the church.  It had been a long day, and I was tired.  Yesterday morning a friend and I went for a walk, leaving a little before 7.  Daughter had not yet called, and I didn't think to call her.  She knew I'd forgotten my cell phone, and I knew there would be lots of messages from her on my voice mail when I got home.  When I arrived home a little after 8:00, she had left 3 messages.  I was relieved, because she didn't sound scared, just angry.  Sometimes when she can't reach me she convinces herself I'm can't answer the phone because something terrible has happened. 

I called her immediately, but she didn't answer.  I left her a voice mail explaining what had happened.  When she called back, she was furious.  The bus service that transports her to program didn't have her on their list when they picked up her housemate.  They called the bus service, and they had forgotten to put her name on the list.  They didn't have any buses available to pick her up.  "I can't handle being here all day!  You've said yourself I can't handle it!"  I tried to calm her down.  I told her I was sorry they'd messed up her schedule, and while it would be hard, I knew she could handle being at her house all day.  I reminder her I'd never said she couldn't handle it, I had said it was hard for her to handle unstructured time.  She was trying to reach the home owner to get her to take her to program.  She didn't want to miss program.  It was her fun day.  She went on until I told her I had to get to the church. 

On the way to the church, I stopped for gas.  When I got to the church, Administrative Assistant (who has a daughter with drama queen tendencies) was smiling.  "Daughter called here.  She's not happy.  You are going to have a long day."  About that time, Daughter called again.  She was still ranting and raving about how she couldn't handle being home all day.  I shared her frustration with the bus company, and reminded her of the variety of things she had that she could do at the house.  I refused to go get her and rescue her. 

Another phone call.  The home owner wasn't responding to her calls.  She couldn't stay home.  I'd said she couldn't handle staying home.  She interrupted my ever attempt to speak.  Finally,  I said, "STOP!  Now close your mouth and listen to what I'm saying.  In fact, maybe you should hold your mouth closed so you can listen to what I'm saying."  I heard a subdued, muffled, "Okay."  As she spoke through lips she was holding shut.  I repeated the four things I'd said before, this time numbering them. 

1. I was sorry they'd messed up her schedule. 
2. I had never said she couldn't handle being home, I had acknowledged it was challenging for her, and I was confident she could handle it.
3. I suggested some ways she could keep busy.
4. I loved her and had confidence in her.

I got a subdued acknowledgement of what I'd said.  Administrative Assistant was still very amused.  A little later Daughter called again.   Home Owner was sending someone to take her to program.  She'd talked to the bus company, and they would bring her home.  Daughter was happy.  The day was saved. 

More on the Early Days

Birth Mom had Borderline Personality Disorder.  She once told me that being a mom meant taking your child to the doctor's office.  She had a lot of appointments scheduled for Daughter.  I was just taking care of her temporarily, so Birth Mom was involved with all the doctor's appointments.  It quickly became obvious they didn't have much of a connection.  I would pick Birth Mom up and transport them both to appointments.  I tried to step back, as this was temporary, but Birth Mom wouldn't hold her hand in the parking lot or do other things I considered appropriate to keep a young child safe. 

I remember one day when Birth Mom took Daughter back for a blood draw.  Daughter came out, sobbing.  Birth Mom was walking beside her, quite excited, "She's just like me!  They have trouble finding my veins, too."  I was the one who comforted Daughter.  Gradually she stopped calling all women mommy.  I became mommy, and Birth Mom became "other mommy."  (She now refers to her by her first name.)

She was having court ordered visits with Dad.  I noticed that there was much regression following those visits.  I will talk about the court battle to get those stopped in another post. 

I remember one day grandmother brought teenage brother and cousin over to visit her.  Grandmother was trying to get her to say her cousin's name, and Daughter would just repeat the last syllable.  Grandmother began yelling at her.  I finally stuck my head around the corner and said, "She can't hear you."  Grandmother was surprised, and demanded to know how I knew.  I said she had a severe hearing loss and would be getting a hearing aid soon.  She stopped yelling at Daughter to say the name right. 

Once she got the hearing aid, she began to learn more words and talk more.  It was slow going.  I began to wonder if she would ever speak in sentences.  There were times when her inability to communicate was very frustrating.  One hard night I decided she needed to know what had happened to the rest of her family.  I explained that none of them were living together.  Teenage brother was with grandmother, Birth Mom and Dad lived apart, and her school age brother had a new family.  I was rocking her, and at that news she sat up straight and looked at me.  "[Brother] new family?"  I affirmed he was in a new family.  Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands, cheering.  I wondered what all had gone on in that home. 

The First Months

When Daughter came to me, she was almost 3 years old.  She didn't talk, and wasn't potty trained.  Her hair was a short, tangled mess.  The first Sunday I took her to church with her hair braided, one of the women came over and nodded approvingly.  "Good, now her hair will grow."  Seeing my blank look, she explained, "We braid our hair to make it grow."  She was right, it did begin to grow.

She was also diagnosed with a high pitch hearing loss.  I remember when I brought her home with her loaner hearing aid.  I put a video in for her to watch and went in to the kitchen to start supper.  Then I realized she was too quiet.  I went to see what she was doing, and she was standing in front of the TV, transfixed.  The video had a female narrator, and I realized she was hearing it for the first time.  It was amazing to watch her discover sounds.  She began to drag out her s.  I realized she was hearing it for the first time.  She stopped saying "yeh" and started saying "yessss." 

I couldn't afford daycare, and until I was licensed, they couldn't pay me for doing foster care.  She went almost every where with me.  I had a couple of people who'd help out when I needed to go to the hospital or something.  I quickly realized she was afraid of closed bedroom doors.  Bedtime was hard, and a ritual began that continued for years:  a story, a hymn, a prayer, and then the reassurances, "You're safe here and nobody is going to hurt you."  It was years before I could walk by her bedroom without her waking up, terrified.  There were nights when I sat rocking her and singing for hours.  She quickly began calling me mommy.  Then I realized she was calling all women mommy.  All men were daddy or papa, depending on their age.   It was a great day when I became the only person she called mommy. 

One day she fell asleep on the sofa in my study at the church.  As I began to put her coat on her to go home, she woke up.  "Come on, I'm taking you home."  Silent tears began to roll down her cheeks.  I was puzzled.  "We need to go home and see the kitty cat."  Her face lit up.  I realized in horror that she thought I had been referring to taking her back to her family. 

She was no longer standing with her back in the corner, observing, now she was greeting everyone in sight.  The church I served was not in a good neighborhood.  One winter day as I was getting ready to leave, I heard shouting outside.  I was frustrated, because it would soon be dark and we needed to get out of that neighborhood.  I didn't want a disturbance delaying us.  After I'd packed up my stuff, I glanced out the window.  There were some men standing in the street.  I couldn't hear anything, so I assumed they were talking.  After I'd set the alarm and locked the door behind us, I looked more closely at what was going on.  There was one police officer frisking a guy who had his hands on the car.  There was another police officer holding a gun on them.  At least I assume, they were police officers-- they weren't in uniform. 

We had to walk toward them to get to the car, which was parked in the street.  Daughter began waving and kept saying hi.  I tried to get her to be quiet and ushered her to the car as quickly as I could.  I didn't relaxed until we'd turned the corner and were no longer in the range of gun fire.