Five years ago, my husband and I became foster parents. It was a long road - classes, more paperwork than a thesis, more signatures than your mortgage, fingerprints, letters to parents and potential foster children, home visits, panel discussions, role playing, fire and safety checks, and then boom! Our certificate came, and we were ready to go. Of course, it came around the same time as the results of my thyroid biopsy. So, the fostering had to wait.
I learned right away that, sadly, there are always kids out there who need you. No matter how often we said "no" when they called us with placements (surgery, recovery, treatment, isolation, recovery, med adjustments), they still kept calling us. To this day, it hurts my heart to have to say "no" (though actually saying it is easier).
Often the call comes before a child is even in foster care. The possiblity exists, CPS (Child Protective Services) are headed to the home with police and whatever they need, and "if this child comes in, can you take him/her/them?" We had a bunch like that before we had our first actual placement. And, as with any placement, you go into chaos-management overdrive. What do you need to live with a child of this age? What do you have already? What can you borrow? What do you need to go to the store to get? What store? When? Who will do this? Who will do that? It's like a shot of crazy adrenaline!
Me, I make lists. I take copious, fast notes when the homefinder caseworker calls us - jotting down any and every piece of information I am given. I ask questions, jot down my answers. Another paper comes out: what do we need? My mind races.....I am usually at work, so I call my husband and we brainstorm some more. Yet, I know I have not covered all my bases.
So, I call/text/email Suzanne. We often get called with babies, and well, she has babies. She knows! I distinctly recall one time when we were called for a 6 month old girl. Potentially coming in to care that night. We said yes, and the lists began. Well, my list was woefully inadequate - I think I even forgot bottles! Thankfully, Suzanne was there for me....we went over my list, and she added the missing pieces. Plus, she did not make fun of me for being such a dumb ass. She is good people. (Oh, and the 6 month old girl did not end up coming into foster care. I still say a prayer that she is okay. She is probably 6 now.)
Thanks to Suzanne, I am better prepared these days. We have a "foster baby" box under a bed. It contains some necessities: bottles, liners, regular bottles, spoons, baby monitor, blankets, bibs, burp cloths, etc. We have a pack-and-play, which is the perfect bed for a little one who drops into your life unexpectedly! But, I still ask for validation, for reassurance, for the missing pieces of my list. And she is there to fill in what I have missed, to ask me what I need, to reassure, to help.
We took in a baby boy almost a month ago now. We were in pretty good shape for him (see above paragraph), but we needed a high chair. Knowing Crosby needed his, I didn't call/text/email Suzanne. I put a quick update on Facebook: "We have a little one staying with us for a few days, and we need a high chair. Does anyone have one we could have/borrow?" Who do you think responded first? Whose high chair do you think is now attached to my table? Of course, Suzanne's. Crosby uses the standing high chair, they also have a table-attaching one. "Take it, Crosby's not big enough for it yet."
I'm not sure I can be a foster parent without Suzanne. She's my lifeline, my Google, my baby whisperer, my brain, my person. It is reason #995,674,357,190,872,109,724 why she is going to beat this thing. The foster children need her! Well, at least the ones who live in my house do.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
survivor guilt
This is something I don't talk about anymore. I wish I could type it in a whisper now, actually. You see....I am a cancer survivor. Four years ago this month, after months of tests and doctor appointments and a "suspicious" biopsy, I had my thyroid removed. The surgeon told me I "dodged a bullet," as the cancer was just about to burst out and spread. Thankfully, they got it all.
Lately, I ask myself "why?" all the time. Why me? Why Suzanne? Why? WHY? Why, if she had to have cancer, couldn't she have thyroid cancer? Why? Why not anything easier to treat than what she has? Why did I get to walk away from it and she is stuck in its grip? It eats at me. Guilt. I hate that my road, in the grand scheme of treatments, was the easy one......and hers appears to be an uphill climb. Guilty. I feel so guilty.
Because.......after a treatment regimen and finding the right medication, I'm doing great. The cancer has stayed away, and I am diligent about doctor's appointments, bloodwork, and taking my medicine (well, mostly..I forget about once a week). I do ultrasounds every third year, and now my endocrinologist lets me do my WBS (whole body scan) every other year instead of every year (this was HUGE for me, as it means no LID [low iodine diet] every year, which is the worst!).
When the diagnosis/pathology came first came in, though, I was in shock. I spent a LOT of time researching, trying to understand. It is such a unique cancer, especially in its treatment. I joined an online support group that was a lifesaver. I "met" a dear friend there - we had surgery the same day and have been close friends ever since. I spent a lot of time reassuring my family and friends that it was okay, I was going to be okay, and as far as cancers go, it was treatable.
Still, it was cancer, and it shook me to my core. It took away a constant in my life, something I took great pride in - my health. I'd never had to worry about it before - seasonal allergies, horrific cramps, winter colds, but nothing major. I'd never even broken a bone (still haven't - knock wood!). I hated it. And, as much as I reassured everyone else, I couldn't reassure myself. It was CANCER, for heaven's sake. Cancer! At 33! It was terrifying. And, recurrence is always a possibility (hence the diligence with the endocrinologist).
Today, I am grateful. I am so grateful that it was treatable. I am so grateful that my GP checked my neck and ran tests. I am grateful to Dr. D'A. for being the best doctor in the world. I am grateful to Dr. A-D. and even the odd Dr. McC. for treating me, testing me, for keeping me here. I am so grateful for radioactive iodine, Thyrogen, and Synthroid. I am grateful to all the patients who came before me for their lessons and the Low Iodine Cookbook. Mostly, though, I am just grateful to be here. Living my life. Loving my family and friends. Counting my blessings.
I want to see my Pookie here - at the grateful place. Battle-weary, but surviving and grateful to those who made the journey possible. I will wait for her here....arms open, smile ready....I will wait.
Lately, I ask myself "why?" all the time. Why me? Why Suzanne? Why? WHY? Why, if she had to have cancer, couldn't she have thyroid cancer? Why? Why not anything easier to treat than what she has? Why did I get to walk away from it and she is stuck in its grip? It eats at me. Guilt. I hate that my road, in the grand scheme of treatments, was the easy one......and hers appears to be an uphill climb. Guilty. I feel so guilty.
Because.......after a treatment regimen and finding the right medication, I'm doing great. The cancer has stayed away, and I am diligent about doctor's appointments, bloodwork, and taking my medicine (well, mostly..I forget about once a week). I do ultrasounds every third year, and now my endocrinologist lets me do my WBS (whole body scan) every other year instead of every year (this was HUGE for me, as it means no LID [low iodine diet] every year, which is the worst!).
When the diagnosis/pathology came first came in, though, I was in shock. I spent a LOT of time researching, trying to understand. It is such a unique cancer, especially in its treatment. I joined an online support group that was a lifesaver. I "met" a dear friend there - we had surgery the same day and have been close friends ever since. I spent a lot of time reassuring my family and friends that it was okay, I was going to be okay, and as far as cancers go, it was treatable.
Still, it was cancer, and it shook me to my core. It took away a constant in my life, something I took great pride in - my health. I'd never had to worry about it before - seasonal allergies, horrific cramps, winter colds, but nothing major. I'd never even broken a bone (still haven't - knock wood!). I hated it. And, as much as I reassured everyone else, I couldn't reassure myself. It was CANCER, for heaven's sake. Cancer! At 33! It was terrifying. And, recurrence is always a possibility (hence the diligence with the endocrinologist).
Today, I am grateful. I am so grateful that it was treatable. I am so grateful that my GP checked my neck and ran tests. I am grateful to Dr. D'A. for being the best doctor in the world. I am grateful to Dr. A-D. and even the odd Dr. McC. for treating me, testing me, for keeping me here. I am so grateful for radioactive iodine, Thyrogen, and Synthroid. I am grateful to all the patients who came before me for their lessons and the Low Iodine Cookbook. Mostly, though, I am just grateful to be here. Living my life. Loving my family and friends. Counting my blessings.
I want to see my Pookie here - at the grateful place. Battle-weary, but surviving and grateful to those who made the journey possible. I will wait for her here....arms open, smile ready....I will wait.
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