It Really Is That Black And White

I've learned a lot about black, white, and grey in the last few months.

I have a tendancy to think in black and white.  Things are good or bad, right or wrong; there is no in between.  I am slowly learning to notice the 'grey areas' - the 'just okay' or 'not the best' or 'it was fun except'.

But sometimes there are no gray areas.

I don't think I have to name names for people to know who I'm talking about when I refer to the little boy who died when his father left him in a hot car all day recently.  I don't think I have to rehash the details of the case for people to recall the evidence.  If you've read it or heard it once, you haven't forgotten it.  By now, enough evidence has come out to charge the boy's father with homicide.  It is my professional opinion as a public health scholar that the decision to charge the father is the only one supported by the evidence.  It is my personal opinion that there is nothing more horrifying than thinking a parent could ever do this to their own child.

This horrific case has called the entire nation's attention to an even larger problem: dozens of children die this way each year.  I can't even imagine how many animals die in the same way.  And even if someone manages to get to them before they die, being trapped in a hot car is pure torture.

How do I know?  Well, today I watched the video of the veteranarian who locked himself in a hot car for 30 minutes.  And it made me think.  That man looked pretty miserable.  But it was only thirty minutes.  And he wasn't in a rear facing car seat, the sun shining down on him through the rear window... and the windows were cracked, as he stated, like you would crack them for a pet.

How much worse must it be for a child, strapped into a rear facing car seat for hours, with no open windows whatsoever?

So I decided to find out.  This is the part where I post really horrible pictures of myself to prove a point.

It's only 81 degrees outside today.  The day that little boy died, it was 92.  Eleven degrees hotter.  Here is a snapshot of the weather when I began my experiment:

Not bad at all.  Nice day for a walk or a bike ride.  Not really even hot enough that I would want to go swimming.

To recreate common conditions, I turned my car on and let the air conditioning cool it to a temperature that was comfortable to me in the front seat.  I installed a rear facing car seat in the center back seat of my car, exactly how I would install it to transport a child.  Then I turned the car off and got in.

When I started out, everything was pretty normal even a minute or two into the experiment.

1:52 pm:  The temperature in the car was about 30 degrees Celsius, which translates to about 86 degrees F.  For comparison's sake, it dips to 25 C inside my air conditioned house.  This was taken only a couple minutes after turning off the air conditioning in the car.

1:57 pm (5 minutes elapsed):  My body temperature was normal.  98.5 degrees F - just about perfect.

I made notes to myself in my cell phone along the way.

At 2:00 (8 minutes elapsed), I wrote "getting hard to breathe".  The air was a bit thick but I settled in and started to read my book.

At 2:11 (19 minutes elapsed), I wrote "Hard to think about anything else".  I meant anything other than how uncomfortable I was and how much I wanted to get out of the car.  I couldn't believe how quickly my formerly air conditioned car was becoming unbearable.

At 2:18 (26 minutes elapsed), I wrote "sweating all over".  I later laughed at that note, because really only my legs had began to sweat.  My legs were most directly in the sunlight and I'm not a heavy sweater so I didn't really expect to sweat from anywhere else.

2:20 pm (28 minutes elapsed):  I took the first picture of myself.  I looked... okay, well, I looked horrible, but to be honest I was actually already pretty uncomfortable when I took this first picture.  It had been nearly a half an hour and had the circumstances been different I would've already gotten out of the car for some air even on this cool day.  But only my legs were perspiring and my skin tone is fairly even.

At 2:21 pm (29 minutes elapsed), I write "Stopped reading".  At this point I had become unable to focus on the book I was reading and set it aside in favor of slouching down in the car seat and closing my eyes.

2:23 pm (31 minutes elapsed):  The thermometer reads approximately 35 degrees C, or 95 degrees F.

2:24 pm (32 minutes elapsed):  The first real beads of sweat begin to roll down my legs.  My body temperature reads 98.8.

At 2:27 pm (35 minutes elapsed), I write "Stifling and pouring sweat, dripping down both legs."  Little did I know I would later yearn for the time when only my legs were sweating and the temperature remained in the double digits.

At 2:34 pm (42 minutes elapsed), I notice "[the] breath I exhale feels like cool breeze".  It occurred to me at this point that an adult would start fanning themselves, but a toddler wouldn't know to do this, so I didn't do it either.

2:39 pm (47 minutes elapsed):  I'm starting to look pretty worse for the wear, my face is blotchy and shines with tiny pearls of sweat.

At 2:41 pm (49 minutes elapsed), I note "it is getting really hard to breathe".  I remember it occuring to me that I should elaborate on that more, but I didn't have the energy.  I wanted to describe how close the air felt to my face, like when I was a little kid and I was hiding from the monsters in my room with my head under the covers trying to breathe through my comforter.

2:51 pm (59 minutes elapsed): Nearing the one hour mark, I take another picture.  These are starting to get pretty bad.  I note that "all [of my] skin [is] wet and clammy, [and the air] feels suffocating."  This is the point at which it actually started to feel like someone was pressing a pillow over my face.  I knew I wouldn't be able to stand much more.

At 2:55 pm (64 minutes elapsed), I comment that "beads of sweat [are] popping up all over [my] legs".  I take a few pictures over the next five minutes.  My thinking has become disorganized and confused, the methodical approach to my experiment deteriorating.

Sweat running down my leg

Beads of sweat like pox marks on my shins

I know my face will soon be pouring sweat as well.

After this point I make no more notes.  I lack the energy and mental capacity to complete this simple task.  What remains are only pictures.

3:01 pm (69 minutes elapsed): The mercury is reading close to 40 degrees C, or 104 F.  Remember, it is only 81 F outside!  I take a series of pictures.  My face, my drenched arm, my crossed legs with sweat beading all over them, the beginnings of drips of sweat on my face.  I am disoriented and take more pictures than I intended to.

3:05 pm (73 minutes elapsed):  I'm pretty much continually taking pictures at this point as I notice new issues every moment.  My face is now dripping with sweat.  My legs look like I've been caught in a rainstorm.  Sweat drips down my back and chest and soaks my clothes.

3:08 pm (76 minutes elapsed):  I decide I'm done with the experiment and start to get a few last pictures.  The thermometer is reading over 40 C so I know it is at least 105 F in the car.  I take my body temperature and it comes out to 99.1.  The final few pictures of myself show me literally pouring sweat.  I remember hearing it drip from my elbow onto the seat of the car, and wondering what made that noise, before realizing that *I* was actually dripping onto the car.

At this point I'm shaking so badly I have to take nearly all of the photos twice.  I take a short video of myself to show how bad I am shaking which I am not adding at this time as I haven't watched it and I know I was pretty delirious.

I can't get out of the car fast enough.  I fumble with the lock.

At 3:12 pm, after one hour and twenty minutes, I emerge from the car.  The outside air at 81 degrees feels crisp and like life itself and I drink it in.  I am suddenly overcome by an aversion to being in the car or even near it, even though my rational mind knows I was in control the whole time.  Still, I keep the door open as I gather up my things and move it to a slightly more shaded area.  My clothes and skin are soaked in sweat and all I can think of is the hose beside the house, and how much I want to just turn it on and pour it over my head.

For the sake of research I only splash the hose water on my face, arms and legs before going in the house.  There I change into dry clothes and take a look at the shirt I wore for this experiment.  It's a medium tone, not white, not black.  You can only tell it's wet by noticing the disparity between the sparse lighter, dry portions and the rest.  The back is nearly all wet.  I'm still not thinking clearly.

The final temperature in the car was over 105 degrees F.  In an hour and twenty minutes, the temperature rose to over 20 degrees higher than the outdoor temperature.  My body temperature went up from 98.5 to 99.1, over half a degree and enough to qualify as a low grade fever.  My mental senses began to deteriorate, my body poured sweat, and at the very end, I began to shake so hard it actually scared me as to whether I could get out of the car fast enough.  It was a horrible ordeal that I wouldn't wish on anyone, even though I did it voluntarily.

This is what dozens of children go through every year... only they can't crawl out and peel off their sweaty clothes... they're strapped into car seats, too little to know what's going on... I can only imagine what comes after the shaking.

This is inexcusable.  Look, I know that accidents happen, and parents like the ones who have been in the news lately are the exception, not the rule.  Oftentimes when this happens it is a genuine accident and the grief-stricken parent is left racked with guilt forever.  But this is exactly why we need a wake up call.

Leave your purse, your wallet, your cell phone, your briefcase - something you need, in the back seat next to your child's car seat every time you get in the car.  Start making a habit of looking in the back seat - even if you KNOW you don't have any children with you... because all it takes is one time of being wrong to end a life.  Let's all take action to make SURE this isn't allowed to happen any more.

And as for the people in the news... the evidence speaks for itself.  What they did is horrible in ways that I could not imagine, more evil than I naively thought existed in this world.  There will be a trial, a judge, and a jury, but I already know the verdict.  Dying this way, as dozens of children do every year, is torture.  That it could be anything less than an honest mistake is unfathomable and amounts to intentionally torturing a child to death.  That *defines* murder.  Yes, it really is that black and white.

Looking Back on 2012

I did this last year, and this year has been another... eventful... life-changing... year... so I'm doing it again.  And praying that this time next year, when I look back on 2013, happy memories, not sad ones, are what come to mind first.

January
2012 actually started on the best note possible.  I hadn't seen my two youngest DBKs, A and AJ, in over four months.  I missed them terribly and I hadn't been feeling in the holiday spirit at all.  On January 1, 2012, I saw them again.  Watched them open their Christmas presents.  Held them in my arms, hugged them tight, told them I loved them.  It was a perfect day.

AJ, 2 years old

A, 8.5 years old

After that we had to slowly get back to reality.  It was tough.  I had my heart broken for orphans around the world with special needs.  I wasn't sleeping well at night, staying up late to pray for children according to events in their time zones.  I was having no success finding a job to aid in paying the bills, and anxiously awaiting tax refunds.  Even though it started so perfectly, January was a rough month... a month of wait and see.

February
In February things got a little better.  Taxes came through to pay the bills.  I started working on getting licensed to do childcare for my friend's kids.  It seemed like there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  I was also gearing up for two exciting trips - a statewide conference on Child Passenger Safety which would be held in April, and a national conference in Orlando, Florida on national highway safety priorities which would be held in June.  I had been granted a scholarship to attend both by our local Safe Kids Coalition.  I felt like things were going to be looking up soon - and they did, for a while.  Good news started coming down about the orphans I was advocating for.  More were making their way home.  Changes were being made in their home countries.  Families were committing to children.  I found myself more engrossed in the Reece's Rainbow community by the minute.

March
In March, the first thing that jumps to mind is something that happened one day when I was literally as far as could be from expecting it.  There was snow and ice on the roads, a rare occurrence here last winter.  It was late - 11 pm or so.  I was in my warm bed, under my electric blanket, writing about orphans, when my phone started to buzz.  Bill collectors, I was sure, but when I looked at the caller ID... it was the mom of my DBKs, whom I hadn't heard from since January 1.  I answered to find her distraught and needing me to come take the kids.  All I can say is that it was a miracle I made it the short distance to where they were living without incident on the icy roads, because I wasn't exactly taking it slow.  I was going to see my babies.  I picked them up.  They were excited to see me.  My heart was full to finally bring them home again, put them to sleep in their cozy, warm beds where they knew they were safe.

I had them for two days that time, and I never knew exactly why, except that it's likely tied up in what turned into a very large amount of police reports.  In any case, I was thankful to have them in my arms once more, even if I didn't know when the next time I would see them would be.

In March, I also began to share with my oldest DBK, M, who is not related to the other two, about the orphan crisis.  Poor sweet soul, it broke her heart to see all those children in such terrible conditions.  I found that we both needed to *do* something, and we also needed a respite from the pain we were discovering.  While my mind worked on what M and I could do together to make a difference for these kids, I planned a girls' night for us - we painted our nails, played games, stayed up late, and then went to a late showing of The Hunger Games, which was amazing and really played right into my determination to do something to make a difference.  M loved it and we began reading the books together, a couple of chapters at a time aloud, every night.  I'd already read them all - in three days, no less, because I'm one of those people who has to read books before seeing movies, but M, not much of a reader, wanted to read them and I thought it would be a nice way for us to bond.  And she only laughed at me a little when I couldn't pronounce 'muttations' correctly throughout all three books.  How do you pronounce it anyways?

As the month ended, I was feeling more at peace than ever... even if the future was unknown.

April
April is my birth month, and M's, and my mom's, so it was a big month around our house.  My birthday is April 6.  It was a Friday, and two days before Easter.  I'd been home all day, cleaning up so my friend's kids could come over while she went to work later.  It was when I noticed my 17 year old brother cleaning that I knew something was up.  I didn't dare to guess what.  I went on with my day.  My friend brought her girls over.  We all took a nap.  When I woke up, I went upstairs, where my mom was just getting home from work..... and had my babies with her!  My birthday presents were two big hugs from A and AJ - the thing I'd wanted most but hadn't even dared to hope for.  And we had another perfect day.  We played together, we braided hair, we ate cake and ice cream, and I was happy.  At the end of the day though, it became apparent that crisis had struck in their lives once again.  They had nowhere to go and would be staying with us, at least overnight, we'd discuss it more the following day.  Little did I know that when my mom asked for a couple hours with the kids for my birthday - she'd ended up getting me a couple months with them!  April found the kids moving back in most of the time, and many more happy memories being made.

M had her birthday party at Skate America - her mom went all out to make sure it was perfect.  I attended with A while my mom watched AJ, and both my girls had a blast, and I had a blast watching them.

At the end of the month I went to my statewide child passenger safety conference, which was great, but I definitely missed those goofy kids even if I was only gone for two days!

May
May was, most importantly, A's birthday.  Nine years old this year!  She didn't have a party with us this year (I don't know that I'm up to anything like her 7th birthday party... ever again) because she was getting something WAY better.  I was going to Orlando the following month for my national highway safety conference, and with my costs paid for, it cost me only a little more to bring her with me - and how could I not, with Disney World right down the road?  Pretty much everyone I know brought their families.  But since A's birthday was in May, it was a surprise super awesome present.  I wrapped up this big box full of balloons, travel supplies, and this sign:

She went to gymnastics that night so excited to tell all her friends and teachers that she got to meet the princesses.

The other thing in May that stands out in my mind is Mother's Day.  I honestly don't even remember what I got my mom, but I will never forget my very first Mother's Day gift.

Sweet A, when I picked her up from school that day, handed me this little sprout in a plastic dixie cup, and a carefully crafted card.  She handed them to me and said "Happy Mother's Day.  I just do love you SO MUCH, Katie!"

I nearly cried.  Later, after she was in bed, I did cry.  Because I'm not her mother, but I did a whole lot of raising her.  This was her way of telling me that she knew that, that she loved me like a mother just like I love her like a daughter.  The picture of the flower above was taken in the fall - it grew so far beyond that little dixie cup, we cared for it so well because that little flower meant so much to us.

June
Oh boy... talk about hot and cold.  June started out amazing.  Home with my babies.  Getting ready to go to Florida.  So much excitement.  On June 13 (a day which was formerly dark to me with history), I boarded the plane with my girl to go on our dream vacation.

We had a blast.  We met the princesses.  We played on the beach, swam in the ocean, saw family, went shopping, ate ice cream like there was no tomorrow, and took a million pictures.

Cinderella's Castle!

Beach for the first time!

Fort at St. Augustine

Then, on our last full day there, the world stopped spinning.  Crisis began.  As we were sitting there packing up our bags, A told me a secret... a deep, dark one that she probably never told anyone else.  I fully believe that it is only because of how far from home we were, how relaxed our days had been, that she felt comfortable sharing it with me.

It wasn't a secret I could keep.

I didn't want to make the call.  I didn't want to set the cascade of events I knew would follow into motion... but I thought I had to.  Honestly if I could go back in time, I would change that decision.

A tropical storm, hurricane, something, was brewing off the coast.  The sky had darkened significantly.  The waves were huge.  Red flags were raised on the beach.  The last time we played on the beach, it was almost deserted.

A storm was also brewing within me.  I fought to hold back the torrent of emotions I was dealing with that day and give my princess the final vacation day she deserved.  I tried to enjoy every single little moment, push the dark thoughts out of my mind and just enjoy her... but my stomach was in knots.

I will tell this story in greater detail later, although I won't share everything because it isn't all mine to share, but to make a long story short, we flew home the next day... I kept the smile on my face... it'll all be okay....

and then it wasn't.

That was the day I didn't even get to say goodbye to A before she was taken from me.  The day I didn't know I'd never see her baby brother AJ again.  I only saw A one time after that... and I hope she heard me when I told her I'd always love her.

After June 21, I spent the rest of the month in misery.  I felt sick all the time.  Nothing could make it better.  I can truly say the week that followed our return was the worst one in my entire life.  June ended darkly.

July
July was the month I tried to put myself back together... put one foot in front of the other... keep breathing... try just to survive each moment when each day was too much.  We hired an attorney to try to help A after social services let us down.  It was a road I never thought I'd be traveling.  The 4th of July came and went.  It's my favorite holiday.  I went to four fireworks shows, went swimming, spent time with my friends, family and M.  I enjoyed those things, I always do, but this year they felt empty.  Something was missing.  Something really important.  Where was A?  Did she get to see the fireworks?  Was she happy?  Was she even safe?

I was starting to mend.  Just a little bit.  There was still a big piece of my heart missing, but I was learning my new normal.  Then the week from hell struck.  It only started in July, but the worst of it fell there.  On Monday, July 30, I woke up to find my 17 month old kitten, Boo, dead on the floor of my apartment.  I almost didn't make it through the day.  I held him until we buried him.  I couldn't cry a single tear for a long time, and then one day they just all broke free.  I'm crying again writing this.  Another of the worst days of my life.  He was just a baby.  My baby.  I couldn't even sleep alone for days.  And July ended as darkly as June.

The day before he died

August
The week that ended July and began August was horrible.  It was supposed to be a good week.  Olympics, the State Fair, friends, but starting with the cloud of my pet's death hanging over us, it was just bad.  I can't recall the details, but I missed my best friend Angie (who had passed just over a year prior) dearly, something had gone amiss with A's case, I got into a fight with a friend, I was discharged from my doctor's office over a $20 bill, and probably some other stuff I don't even remember... I just remember that it was a very bad, bad week.  I buried myself in mindless television shows, sleep, and orphan blogs.

After some time had passed, I adopted another cat - mostly black, just a tiny bit of white on his chest.  I called him 'Soft Kitty' or 'S.K' for a week, until I named him Marbles because when he purrs (which he does almost constantly), it sounds like someone's shaking a bag of marbles.  I love him!  He's six months old now. I spent some time in the hospital with a kidney infection (two ER visits in one week is never any fun) and had a bad medication reaction, so I was feeling a little worse for the wear even by the end of August, not to mention having to find a new doctor because I have any number of medical needs that have to be attended to regularly.  All I could do was hope it would get better when the school year started and routine set in more firmly.

Marbles, AKA 'Soft Kitty'

September
Finally, a month that started out well.  At the very beginning of September, my friend Faith got home from Eastern Europe with her two newly adopted children, both of whom have down syndrome.  Another friend and I went to see them that weekend and bring some clothes for the baby (she was around 18 months when she came home, but the size of a 3-6 month old).  We talked a while, played with the kids, and I got to hold her sweet and precious baby girl, who thankfully will never remember having been an orphan.

I look dumb in this picture.  But she's cute enough for both of us

I don't remember much about the rest of the month.  It must've been relatively unremarkable.  I did go to the Buddy Walk with Shannon and Faith's family, which was a blast, it was my first year and it definitely won't be my last.

October
October was a month I didn't look forward to... at all.  Halloween, pumpkins, hay rides, costumes... did you know I took A trick or treating every year between 2-7?  It wasn't a holiday I was used to 'celebrating' without her.  I remember being rather depressed.  I also faced a good bit of financial difficulty that I was working to resolve, and we had finally been given a court date, which was looming frighteningly on the horizon.  It felt like limbo - there's not really any other way I can put it.  Like I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I was probably irritable and short with people I know and love, and for that I'm sorry.  I was under a lot of stress and I apparently didn't cope well.  As the month ended, my mind was occupied by nothing but what November would bring.

November
Not long passed before the tone for the month of November was set.  Our court date was early in the month.  We were in court for over two hours - which was nearly if not completely unprecedented for a case like ours.  And it was a rough two hours.  I will admit that I cried on the stand - to the point where my 'smudge-proof' (apparently not waterproof) mascara was running down my face in a raccoon-like fashion.  It was rough, and the other team didn't play fair, but I regretted nothing.  After social services let us down, it was the only thing we could do, the thing we had to do.

After court that day, I slept for two hours, spent some time with some good friends, and then slept for sixteen hours, straight and solid.  I woke up at 7:00, and thought it was morning (it was not.  It was the following night.)  But then I felt a sense of relief.  Not complete relief - we were still waiting on a decision, which could have said anything - but court was over and that in itself was a relief.

The decision, which, from my perspective was not favorable (although I will admit there are unknowns involved that could change my opinion) came just before Thanksgiving.  So much for being thankful.  I had my wisdom teeth out the day before Thanksgiving (we had our turkey early) and after 7 abdominal surgeries I thought it would be a cinch - I didn't even have to be in a hospital - but I'm definitely counting that as one of my worst surgeries.  I have serious dental fear and I do NOT like anyone messing around with my mouth.  It's actually still healing.

At the end of the month I picked up some extra work with a friend (I had already worked for one friend for the better part of the year) and things seemed to be looking up, teeth (or lack thereof) aside.

December
Through December I continued to work for friends and fundraise heavily for Reece's Rainbow's Project Angel Tree.  It was a tough month, mostly because of financial difficulties, but we made it work.  At the end of the month, I came upon the opportunity to work for a friend who I met through Reece's Rainbow close to a year ago and has three adopted children with down syndrome.  Her family was in need of a home health aide, I was in need of a job, and a wonderful organization locally agreed to employ me to work for her.  I've been doing that job just about a week now (officially - this is one of the friends I was working for unofficially previously) and I just absolutely love it!

I missed A and AJ a lot this month.  It was truly my first Christmas without them since A came into my life all those years ago.  I walked through stores, by the sections of little girls' clothes, touched the ruffled skirts and commented to whomever I was with how I would most certainly be buying this if I still had A.  Girly girl if there ever was one.  But I appreciated the time I had with M, we celebrated Christmas in the usual manner, just unfortunately less two kids.

I look weird because of the lack of eyebrows.

On the very last day of December, the little boy whose Christmas Warrior I was through Reece's Rainbow met his goal - meaning I had to make good on a promise I made at the beginning of Angel Tree - that if both Brett #19 and Elden 14G met their goals, I would shave my head - and that is how I would start out 2013... and I smiled on the last day of 2012 - not only because I was glad to see it go, like last year (and I was, considering some of the year's happenings) but because I was thankful, too, to see another year and have hopes for more good and even better things.

Because that's the kind of perspective spending a year advocating with Reece's Rainbow gives you.