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.

How does it make a difference?

Today I guided a friend through voting for 'my' sweet Brett in Angel Tree, which literally took about ten seconds, and I was struck by the thought - no wonder so few people seem to be responding to my pleas... this doesn't FEEL like you're doing anything!

But you ARE!  When you watch those numbers go up every day, cheering when he makes it over 40, then 50, you can SEE a difference being made.

But in what?  A contest?  I'm sure people think... big deal!  But it IS a big deal, because this contest could mean a significant increase in Brett's grant, which may give his family the confidence they need to step up for him.

Let me break it down for you.  On Reece's Rainbow, there's a page called 'Moving Mountains', which showcases all of the adoptable children with certain amounts in their grant funds - the point being to show people that the obstacle does not have to be financial - there are children who are nearly fully funded.  But then... there are a plethora of other children.  Some with a meager ~$100, like Brett... $100 is a lot of money, sure, but in terms of international adoption... that's probably like, birth certificates for ONE family member for a dossier.  And there are some with less.  And there are some with $0.  Honestly all these children are in the same category in my mind... children whose grants will not increase their chances of being adopted, unless they grow substantially.

Last year, Angel Tree raised $1,000 or more for EVERY SINGLE CHILD on the Angel Tree.  That means, whichever of these boys gets on the Angel Tree, may see their grant grow by as much as $1,000, or more, by the end of this year!  When you consider that an adoption from Brett's country usually costs around $20,000, give or take, that's huge.  He could be 1/20, or even 1/10, funded!  And yes.  Every single one of those sweet boys is deserving.  'Choosing' a child to vote for is no fun.  But in Public Health, we have what we call a Needs Assessment - and the title is misleading.  When planning intervention programs, we don't only consider where the need is greatest, but where we can make the greatest difference.  Brett?  This would make a HUGE difference for him.  But why him?  Why such a huge difference for him?

Well..........

*reaches up sleeve for diabolical plan*

Because he has some advocates who will stop at NOTHING to bring him home.  Right here, right now, I'm making a promise.  When a family commits to Brett, I will launch several fundraisers on their behalf.  If initial homestudy fees are an obstacle, we'll figure something out for that.  Then, when the family needs money for facilitation, dossier and travel?  My master plan goes into action.  You see, being in public health... Planning, implementing, and evaluating is what I *do*.  I am an organizer to the core.  And I never, ever pour myself into organizing anything as much as I do something to help someone else.

So... I have... plans.  Some of them are super secret right now... but I'll be sure to let Brett's family in on them right away.  Some of them are tried and true.  I've been plotting a huge, multi-family yard sale in my head for weeks now.  And by huge, I mean, I want to clear all the *crap* out of this house that I don't NEED.  Because look what Brett has versus what I have!  WHY do I need a fancy basket to hold pictures that aren't in albums yet?  Wouldn't a shoebox work?  WHY do I need, and I kid you not, as a 23 year old woman, FIVE backpacks, a diaper bag, a four-size luggage set, a kids' bookbag, at least half a dozen tote bags, and seven purses?  I only ever use ONE of those things at a time.  Heck, why do I need half the stuff I have?  What do box springs actually do anyways?  I bet Brett doesn't have one.  NOBODY sits in that desk chair anymore, now that I have a laptop.  My desk has become useful only for stacking stuff on that I don't have another place for.  Maybe I should organize a little better and get rid of the whole thing!  I have a mini trampoline that the kids love, but they use for maybe five minutes, twice a year?  Pshh.  Put the mattress on the floor, let them jump on it, two problems solved!  And all the clothes that don't fit in my dresser - my goodness.  How many outfits does one person need?  Maybe a week's worth for each season?  A couple of special outfits?  And even that seems excessive when you remember that Brett and his friends have probably been wearing the same clothes for DAYS.  Think about it.  How dirty do pajamas really get?  Do you really need a different pair every night?  I know people who don't even OWN pajamas.  In America.  Yeah, don't think about the logistics of that, just get my point that we have way too many things that are just not vital to our lives.  If I boiled down what I owned to what I used every day, I'm willing to bet I could sell at least half the things in this apartment.  And I would, for Brett.

Aside from the cute little boy in the foreground, you can tell that I have WAY too much junk.

Auctions?  Giveaways?  Yeah, I can do that.  I'm in public health, again!  What do we do when we have health fairs?  We walk around to local businesses and ask for donations.  What do I do when I'm dissatisfied with something?  I write a letter seeking for it to be made right.  I can do those things, times 100, and put on an AWESOME auction/giveaway/whatever.

And... well, as far as creative ideas... let me give you a little sneak peak of something my friends and I did for three summers when I was 10-12...

(Katie Sue, Amber, and Jess, please forgive me for using these embarrassing old photos of us... it's for a good cause!)  Yeah.  We were just little kids.  All that stuff that we have was made by hand.  We had a back yard carnival... A sucker pick made out like the solar system... hand painted of course on a girl scout cookie box... a bean bag toss made of an old box and a poster board... also hand painted... and I sewed the beanbags myself... there was a beanie baby raffle, a face painting station, refreshments, a cookie walk... oh, we had all sorts of fun... and we donated part of our proceeds every year to the local Children's Hospital and the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation (long story on the reason for that one).  Now... if we did all this at ten years old... what could a group of dedicated ADULTS do to give a child a Forever Home??

Oh.  Here we are after cleaning a local creek.  Did I forget to mention that we had a community service club when we were 12-13?

I'm not in this one.  Somebody needs to get me a copy of the other one, it's better!

We were WET and COVERED in mud (a mud fight may or may not have broken out..) and we were HAPPY.



I certainly didn't do all of that by myself - I was lucky to have some amaaaazing friends growing up - but my point is, I learned how to organize from age 10 all the way through college, learned how to make a successful event - and while I'm completely broke, Brett's family will be the recipient (like it or not!) of ALL my best fundraising/organizing ideas.  His grant might not read 'fully funded' yet, but my intention is to make it clear that the obstacle in his adoption will NOT be financial.  We will make it happen if I have to sell the shirt off my back.  Well.  Maybe I should keep one shirt.  I think there's some sort of rule about public nudity...

But folks, it starts with getting that little guy on Angel Tree.  It starts with raising those numbers high enough to get a family to commit to him.  Then... we hit the ground running.  Now's your chance to be a part of something AMAZING.

Cause and effect.  Simple.  It may be hard to see how clicking that little vote button could get this boy fully funded, but it's a chain reaction and it just needs YOU to set it off.  Tomorrow... just before voting ends... I'll tell you what happens AFTER "Fully Funded".  For now...

Vote for me, maybe?

Updating slowly but surely... Florida day 4: A change of scenery.

So this is one day where I was absolutely a slacker on picture-taking, so this will probably be a short update... but Saturday was a day of changes!

I started out the morning with a session on creating culturally responsive Spanish programs, which I really enjoyed and absolutely can't wait to share with our Safe Kids coalition.  Then A and I booked it back to the room to pack up - we were just too busy on Friday with Disney to get much done.  Somehow, everything that fit into a few bags on the way there (with careful planning) seemed to require superhuman effort to get OUT of the hotel.  And all we added was some conference papers, a few souvenirs and conference freebies, some food, and a booster seat.  And we ate a bunch of what we came with!

We were a little late for checkout, but the hotel was gracious about it.  Then we made a mad dash (weighed down significantly by luggage) for the shuttle lane.  Packed ourselves into the shuttle.  Rode to the airport.  Headed to where we caught the next shuttle.  Waited.  Packed ourselves into that one.  The two moody-looking people sitting behind us (leaving only the front seat for us, or I'd have taken the back) were not wearing their seat belts and didn't even pretend to hear or care when I commented loudly on how A and I were both safe in our booster and belts.  I wish I had the guts to speak up to people like that.  I sat directly in front of them and put A next to me, hoping if we crashed I'd at least take the brunt of the impact.  Thank God, we didn't crash.

My wonderful cousin Alex picked us up at the shuttle station and ferried us back to my uncle's condo right on the beach.  We did some catching up in the car - it was good to chat, it's been so long since we've seen each other!  And then the condo... WOW, is all I can say.  This place is awesome!  Clean, beautifully decorated, four bedrooms, four bathrooms, laundry, full kitchen, SO spacious... and porches on every side, including one that looks right out to the beach below!  Truly the lap of luxury... I can't even say how blessed we have been by this vacation... it may seem shallow in light of all we do to raise awareness and bring orphans home, but this week, dreams came true.  The dreams of a little girl who was once a thin, scared wisp of a child, who some of the children we advocate for remind me so much of, came true.  An opportunity she never would have had if not for some truly wonderful people making this possible for us.  And I love her... so this is my dream coming true too.  Seeing her experience what she otherwise would not have.

*Removes sentimental cap*

After a bit of chatting at the condo and a 'grand tour', we all went down to the beach.  It was A's first time at the beach and I'm sorry I didn't take any pictures, I didn't want to bring a camera or a phone down with us!  We sat on our towels and played in the sand a while.  Then I took A to show her the sand crabs, with which she was absolutely enamored.  She kept picking them up, finding 'baby' ones, and then putting them back in the surf 'so they could live'.  Have I mentioned that I love that little girl?

She was afraid of the waves - they were bigger than normal.  They knocked her over a couple times, even though we didn't go in far.  I made a mental note to show her how to take the hits from the waves without falling over.  But as it was, we mostly just played in the shallow surf.  Then after a bit, A was begging to try out the pool (private, condo residents only, no one else was there).  We showered the sand off ourselves, headed over to the pool, which was pleasantly warm but in the shade, and swam for just a bit before deciding to go inside.  We learned our lesson about laying towels in the sand.

After changing, we headed over to my cousin's house where we met her dog and cat (with whom A was instantly enamored... are you sensing a pattern yet?  Yes, my little veterinarian) and played with my cousin's old Barbies.  Then we headed over to cook out with some friends of hers.  It was a good time, until we started getting eaten alive by mosquitos!  Seems like these Florida ones don't bite as hard or something though... even the bites I've scratched are small, whereas they usually swell up to about the size of a house!

Getting back to the condo, we didn't go to bed until close to midnight.  Just relaxed, played, looked out at the dark beach, dotted with the lights of distant boats, listened to the waves crashing in, planning the next day, talking to family... enjoying ourselves.  For Sunday, I planned something to keep our minds off anything upsetting... which resulted in tons and tons of pictures... and will appear in my next post!

Florida Day 2: Conference awesomeness, rain, and a salute to what we do.

Little girl and I decided to skip the opening ceremony and sleep in this morning... it looked like a lot of pomp and circumstance that I didn't need to make her sit through, and quite frankly, we were tired!

So we started out the day with the first workshop session.  I picked out three for today that fit my field, my goals, my life, including of course the Special Needs workshop I was so excited about.

First up - keeping kids in seatbelts when we're not around!  This session was really awesome - the first speaker was from Ohio and presented a program they'd run last school year, planned, implemented and evaluated through Case Western, and I just loved everything about it.  To evaluate a baseline of parent perceptions regarding kids and seat belt use (classic needs assessment) they conducted a phone interview - about parent-child relationships in young teens - and used seat belt use as an example.  Which is the genius of it.  Because see, in public health, in anything, if you give away the sole purpose of your survey, the results are often compromised as people try to give desirable answers.  If, however, you evaluate one thing WHILE evaluating something else, you get the advantage of decreased bias.  Bias is the huge weakness of interview as a needs assessment tool.  This nearly eliminates it.  GENIUS!

Then, they targeted the program based on the results of the needs assessment.  Another thing that they found along the way was that parents responded best to a light-hearted, non-preachy message.  That can be something seriously hard to avoid in a field as serious as injury prevention.  But guess what - they did it!  We got to see some of their materials - conversation magnets, a mailing with 'stereotype parents' talking about seat belt usage, some truly hilarious stuff that got people's attention AND made them think.

All along the way, they evaluated it at various points, not only to see what changes were being created in perceptions, but what changes were occurring in actual PRACTICE.  In the end, the results were amazing - enormous increases in seat belt usage.  People really getting into the program.  I would LOVE to see this replicated more widely!  And right out of our own state!

This little princess, by the way, was AMAZING through the first two sessions - colored me a princess picture, complete with stickers.  I kept getting compliments on my well-behaved kid!

Lunch was after that, lunch and exhibits.  Uh, let me just say, the exhibits are AMAZING.  And there are enough goodies being handed out to fill a whole extra bag on the flight home.

Just a portion of our conference loot on my bed.  Oh yeah, and that cup by the TV?  There's a pink one too... they change color.  It's seriously awesome.

On to the special needs session.  It was awesome.  Seriously awesome.  We talked about three main issues - special needs child restraints, aircraft transportation of special needs kids, and EMS transportation of uninjured or stable children.  The highlight of this for me was hearing about different special needs restraints - which are expensive but absolutely AMAZING for what you are getting, especially coming from someone with a perspective on what it's like to HAVE special needs kids in your car.  I just wanted to try all the seats out!  There's a new rearfacing seat coming out for kids with abdominal issues that make putting a harness in front of them an issue (an issue I've heard of G tube families having a lot)... a new car bed that accomodates bigger infants who might need to lie down, such as those born with conditions like hydrocephalus (why yes, I did have a Reece's Rainbow moment there)... an adaptive booster that has a vest and extra restraints for kids with issues like low tone or autism as they get older and still need a more supportive restraint.  And by older, I mean I could fit in this seat.  Which I know isn't saying much, but I mean fit as in, it would be appropriate for me to ride in it at 23 years old if I had such a special need.

There was so much to talk about, and I was so excited - I wanted to ask questions about specific disabilities and situations with regards to adoption and older/larger children with untreated conditions (ie hydrocephalus) that are normally treated in infancy here, thus eliminating the need for older child restraints to accommodate them.  We also found out that years ago, a child with Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI) like one of our little RR princesses whose face jumped to my mind the moment I heard the diagnosis, was restrained in a car bed, an early model car bed not as advanced as the ones on the market now, when the vehicle crashed and was totalled.  Severe crash.  The child, OI and all, was completely UNINJURED!  We heard another account of a low speed crash in a more recent car bed with a child also completely uninjured.  Ay ay ay, I have GOT to get special needs certified!  I could blog all night and not cover this whole session.

Alas, there were other sessions to get to.

Among the updates coming to the CPS curriculum:  all new pictures (NHTSA is requiring subject and photographer permissions), some re-organization of the seat belt section, updates regarding rear facing recommendations, extended harnessing recommendations, and various new car seat features, updates to the special needs section, a discussion of new vehicle features such as seat belt air bags, etc, clarification of some outdated rules... it's looking like all good stuff.  There was also some discussion of reducing the course to 2.5 days plus the car seat check, so really a 3 day total.  It essentially cuts very little time from the course most people are teaching, but in order to do so, the '32 hour course' designation would need to be changed, though, truly instructors can teach it in more time if they so choose.  There was a bit of debate regarding this and whether it would adequately prepare technicians, and if a pre-module done online might help compensate.  Personally, I think they're pushing it... some people are still lost after four full days, but perhaps with the reorganization, some efficiency and a pre-module, it could make the course more accessible and give us more techs!

Finally, we went back down the exhibits, and I saw... it...

...the buzz of the car seat world...

...three of them in the world...

...only a prototype...

WTF?

That's right.  In the... polysomethingrather foam... I touched it... the FOONF!

I didn't take any pictures.  I didn't know if it was still super secret, but I got to see all its features and modes demonstrated and let me just say, this thing is COOL.  Cool enough to make me want to take the 9 year expiration and calculate the per-diem cost versus competing seats.

(from clek's website)

And that website?  http://clekinc.com/foonf/.  Check out those COVERS!  And weight limits to match.... and that rigid LATCH forward facing... okay, Clek needs to hire me to sell this seat.  I'm in love.  I sure wish I could afford more than the minimum these days... and had a bigger car!



The Foonf concluded the conference part of our day, and Girlie (who by now was saying 'pool' about every other word) was hungry and restless, so we went back to our room for PBJ (I managed to pick up a knife and spoon at lunch) and swimsuits.  Unfortunately for us, a classic Florida downpour was well underway.

Somebody was not happy and spent an hour entertaining herself with a reflective slap bracelet.

"Now Ellfant has a collar because he is my pet."

Love her.

In other news, we learned that given the chance, ducks WILL swim in a pool and drink chlorinated water.  Just an FYI.

Finally, when the thunder and lightning stopped and we were left only with the rain, we headed down to the pool.  She got two good hours of swimming in, befriended everyone we saw, whose parents were all amazingly good about how quickly Polly Princess-Pants became glued to them and their children... I just love these people, seriously, amazing conference full of amazing people who care about keeping our roads safe.  Roads are safer because of the people at this conference.  Loved ones are saved because of people at this conference.  Adults, teens, and kids alike are safer in the car because of what these people do.  Debilitating injuries are prevented because of people in this very building.  A statistic quoted today states that for every percentage point we increase seat belt use in a population, three lives per year are saved.  How many lives would that be, because of these people?  And keeping kids safe... regardless of who they are, where they came from, or what challenges they may face... is just a little easier and more accessible for families... because of these people.  I can't tell you what a priviledge it is to be a part of this group.

And well, the accommodations aren't anything to sneeze at either ;)

In final news, I won't be blogging again until Saturday, but then it's going to be a monster... because tomorrow is DISNEY DAY!!!!  I expect to be there to closing, come back to the hotel, and fall into bed before my morning sessions.

Have I mentioned that this trip rocks?

The Worst - and Best - Year of My Life.

2011... what to say, what to say!  Never in my life has a year been packed with so many life-changing events.  Seldom before has my view of the world, or my plan for myself shifted so drastically in such a short time.  Finally, never, in a year, have I experienced so much utter pain, on every level:  Physical, psychological, emotional.  And yet, a few days ago, in a room with some of my best friends in the world, I officially survived it!

A week or so ago, I was poised to write a post titled "Where I Was" - which was intended to explain the place I was in my life before everything changed for me.  I scrapped it, because it came out sounding like a laundry list of bad things that had happened to me.  But it's another important piece of the puzzle... because in order to understand where I am now - you must understand where I was then.  So, instead of attempting to recall the original post (which I failed to save), I would like to post this more as a 'year in review'.  I will warn you that it is long, as are most of my posts (I have a writer inside me struggling to get out!).  I have tried to shorten it several times but I feel like that cheapens it - takes away from the picture I'm trying to convey - so it remains as is.  Further, it has always been my desire to be completely honest through this blog (although some things will not be shared for privacy reasons) - I will not sugar-coat the truth here.  If you have time and so desire, read.  If you don't - that's just fine too.  As always, many more thoughts are floating around my head - blog posts for days to come - but this one, for today.  Without further adieu...

January
In January I began my second-to-last quarter of College with a heavy heart.  As excited as I was about graduating, my best friend Angie had recently been diagnosed as terminal with the cancer she'd been fighting for over  five years.  They gave her 2-3 months to live - in November.  I felt as though nothing I did, aside from spending time with her, mattered in the least.  My best friend was dying.  Any day, she could be gone.  How could I care about alternative fuel sources or historic Spanish literature at such a time?  In addition, I was dealing with chronic, debilitating physical pain of my own and scheduled surgery for my endometriosis for March 2.  The month found my Dear Borrowed Kids living in a hotel, then with me, then with their grandmother.  Then at the end of the month, the doctors found multiple tumors in Angie's brain.  They said 2-3 weeks.  It seemed like every situation in my life was worse than ever before.  The only light I had... were those special days I spent with my best friend, enjoying each other's company, laughing over nothing, while we still had time.

February
If you'd asked me in January, I could've scarcely believed that February could be worse... but it was.  The frustrations of January continued, and grew, and multiplied.  Late in the month, it became apparent that my beloved cat Buckeye, nearing 17 years old, whom I'd had since I was five years old, was not simply 'slowing down in his old age' - he was dying.  After what was essentially a heartwrenching emergency vet appointment on a Friday night, I was told he was in end stage renal failure.  I asked if he was in pain, through my sobs.  They told me that he could be, and that he was certainly uncomfortable.  We were given medications to make him more comfortable.  I didn't want euthenasia.  I never believed that it was the right of man to decide who lived or died - human or animal.  I took my baby home and spent the weekend with him... but by Sunday night, I knew.  It wasn't fair to put him through this anymore.  He was dying.  It was going to happen, and soon.  I held him close to me one last time on Sunday night, all night... I went to class and pretended to care... and then I came home and took pictures and snuggled him some more.  Then we went to the vet, and I watched them put my baby to sleep on February 28, 2011.  The liquid was orange.  I'll never forget a single detail about that day.  I took him home, wrapped him in one of my favorite sweatshirts, and buried my precious Buckeye.

In Memoriam

Doing his favorite thing... exploring the great outdoors.

And yet, through all this, guess who continued to hang on?  Guess who was there for me as I cried the night I buried my kitty?  My best friend Angie, of course.  Facing a terminal diagnosis herself, she never once passed up an opportunity to help a friend.  By the grace of God, we made memories that month, memories that I will never, ever forget.

March

March just did not start off on the right foot.  Having just lost my lifetime feline companion, my heart was shattered. I was heading into surgery not knowing whether or not my best friend would still be alive when I came home.  I was scared, to put it mildly.  The night before my surgery, Angie and I were visiting an animal rescue - she and I were both intending to adopt kittens - and a stupid, silly little misunderstanding sent me into the hysterical sobs I'd been holding back for 24 hours.  Once again - guess who was there to give me a hug, and tell me she was there for me?  Oh, Angie, how much you did for everyone else, even as your own time drew to a close.  

Then my surgery went bad.  Two more surgeries, one of which was markedly more invasive than those prior, had to be performed simply to keep me alive.  I was bleeding internally and my blood pressure had dropped to a dangerous level.  I had to receive a blood transfusion while in surgery.  All I remember is signing the consent form, and hearing them yell things like "Clear the OR" and "We need to get her some blood"... and looking up at my doctor as they were putting me under and croaking "Save me."  I was so scared.  There are large blocks of time about which I remember nothing at all.  A simple outpatient procedure, turned so bad.  I spent a week in the hospital.  There were fears of infection and other complications.  I was miserable - and I wasn't home where I could spend time with Angie while I still could.  I could barely text her with all the medication constantly dripping into my IV.  My texts came out garbled and hard to read.  I didn't want her to visit because it could make her sick.  Things didn't get much better when I went home.  I was in a lot of pain for a long time.  I had to take an incomplete on all my winter classes.  As if all of this wasn't enough, things went bad with my two younger Dear Borrowed Kids, causing them to be abruptly withdrawn from my life - and loving them as though they were my own, this was a blow.  

The end of March, however, found things looking up.  My dear Angie was still fighting the good fight, we'd both adopted precious kittens.  I had high hopes for things to come.  

Introducing Boo, the adorable kitten.

April

Being my birth month, I had high hopes for this one, despite still reeling from the effects of a terrible March.  The falling-out with the family of my two younger DBKs was hard, but I felt differently about it than I'd expected.  I felt as though I'd made a choice that was in all of our best interests, and that the current situation was only temporary - so I was at peace.  I was in the process of seeking an internship to complete my BA in Public Health, and hoping for something I'd really enjoy.  As it so happened, I landed an absolutely perfect internship with the injury prevention department at the local health department, with whom I'd been volunteering at car seat checks for years.  A few weeks into the internship, they offered to pay me - well.  A couple weeks later, they told me they wanted to hire me when I graduated.  It was like a dream come true!  I never could have imagined things working out so well.  Best of all, the end of the month came, and Angie and I were still playing games and laughing together, just like always.  Even the best of the medical community cannot predict the will of God.  

May

Like April, May brought good news.  It certainly wasn't without its difficulties, but it was overall positive.   I went to a fabulous conference both for my job/internship and for myself, in the process seeing a dear friend whom I hadn't seen in nearly a year, and in the same breath the parents of my missing DBKs called seeking to mend fences.  I spent 30+ hours a week doing a job I loved, and my free time with the people I loved.  Toward the end of the month, Angie started gearing up for her final Relay for Life - and we couldn't wait to cheer her on.  She was getting sicker... but still smiling, still blessing us just by being her radiant self.  May was good.

June

In June, the hard times started to come back.  I was driving a car nearly as old as I was, and while I was thankful for it, I knew its days were coming to an end.  It needed repairs I couldn't afford, and I didn't see any point in trying to afford them when I'd just be in the same place in a few months anyways.  Finally, the brakes completely gave out and I made the decision to sell it and buy a new car.  It was a little earlier than I'd hoped (I'd hoped to buy a car after graduation - Clyde (that was the car's name) apparently was a couple weeks off on that timetable), but it was what I wanted and what I felt was right for me and for the precious little ones I needed to transport safely!  Have you ever watched the crash test for a 1990 model year vehicle?  No?  Okay, don't.  Especially not if you drive one.  Only by the grace of God was I saved - when I hit the brakes and they failed, I stopped literally inches from the bumper of the car in front of me.  I puttered off to a safe place to call AAA.  I could've hit that car in front of me... and become that crash test.

Well, finding a new car wasn't as easy as I'd hoped.  I'd done extensive research into it over the past years, anticipating a post-graduation purchase and I was ready to go - but not only did I hit a snag, the situation kicked up some pretty devastating family drama.  All this came to a point just as I was driving home from Relay for Life - watching my dear best friend make her final 'Survivor's Lap'.  I was left feeling heartbroken, alone and as though no one had faith in me.  What should have been a happy time of my graduation was instead painful.  

Finally, towards the very end of the month, I was able to get a new car, with the help of my mom, who has been my rock throughout my entire life.  I was excited and things seemed to be looking up heading into July.

July

There are no words for July.  Loss.  Heartbreak.  Pain.  Sadness.  Mourning.  None of these even begin to cover what we all felt when dear Angie died on July 15, 2011.  No matter how hard I might try, I'll never forget the days leading up to that day... just... indescribable.  Angie would've blushed and told me to stop flattering her, but she was my hero - not because she had cancer, but because she had cancer and she didn't let it stop her.  Sure, she had her down moments, everyone does, but she just kept on going.  She told me once "I didn't really have any other choice".  Oh, dear Angie, how many times I've said those same words.  My wonderful best friend is deserving of a blog post of her own, but that is for later.  For now... a photo of the two of us:

I miss you every day, dear Angie.  You are a huge part of who I've become.

August

They say "When it rains, it pours".  This statement, I've found to be so true.  August began with the struggles of July, then more struggles with my two younger DBKs.  August delivered some bad medical news for me, which got me quite down for a while.  My hours as a temporary employee at the job I loved were running out and the future of my employment still not cemented.  Finally, at the end of the month, tensions which had been rising for a long time between myself and the family of my two younger DBKs came to a head, resulting in me losing them again.  Further, my physical pain was slowly but steadily coming back, and I was wondering why, if I'd been through all this surgery just months earlier, was I in pain again?  The end of the month came only with uncertainty.

September

This was a month which I spent largely at home, alone, which in retrospect was very bad for me.  My heart was broken again by more bad medical news, even as it lay shattered with the loss of my best friend and pain for my DBKs.  I worked periodically, rationing my last few hours, waiting for the day I could finally come back to work for good.  Finances started to become difficult, but I chose not to get another job, because I was certain I'd be returning to my 'real' job soon.  My physical pain had nearly reached pre-surgery levels and I started to look into other medical options, not excluding further surgery.  More than anything, I was lonely.  I spent so much of my time alone that even periodic gatherings of friends or family did little to ease the pain once I went back home.  September ended with even more uncertainty than August.

October

I knew all along that October would be hard, I just didn't know how hard.  You see, since my little DBK, A, was two years old, she has trick-or-treated with me.  This year, I knew we wouldn't be together.  It stung.  My work hours completely ran out and pay essentially stopped but for a trickle of mileage checks.  Still, I chose not to get another job, because surely I'd just have to quit in a couple of weeks anyways.  October went the way of September.

November

Though not the month I hit rock bottom, November was a steady downward slide.  I don't kid you when I say I'm lucky to have made it through alive.  Pain levels were back to where they were before my March surgery, sometimes even as bad as the post-op pain.  I was dependent on medication to even get through a day.  I was depressed and heartbroken over the state of my life.  My wonderful friends had noticed the change in me before I had and expressed concern, unfortunately leading to a turn of events which put us at odds and left me feeling even more alone than ever.  My work hours and income were gone, but I'd finally interviewed for my position about a week and a half before Thanksgiving, so I felt that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, I'd at least be back to work and out of the house soon.  However, the end of November came too soon, with the same uncertainty as the months before it - still no job, still no money, and now behind on bills and planning to schedule another surgery.  It felt bleaker than bleak.

December

What can I say?  December 2011.  Probably the most transformative month of my life.  Here is where this post gets divided into two parts - a 'before,' and an 'after'.  

December did not come quietly into my life.  On the very first day, it came with confirmation that I would have surgery - a good thing for my pain, but still scary, particularly at that time, having become more real and concrete in my mind.  In the same day, I learned that I'd been passed over for the job I thought was mine since April.  As it turns out, the effects of this economy are further reaching than any of us could have imagined, and circumstances precluded my superiors from being able to hire me.  Some of them, I think, were hurt for me as I was for myself.  I also think they were wrong - I do think I was the best person for that job - but who am I to decide right and wrong?  Ultimately, I feel there was a reason for the way things happened... but at the time, it was a devastating and heartbreaking blow to the very essence of who I am, not to mention further complicating financial matters just before Christmas, when I'd had such high hopes for making a wonderful Christmas for my family this year.  Further, it would be my first Christmas in six years without my little A - and the only Christmas season without AJ since he'd been born.  I was not feeling the spirit of the season, and my faith was more than shaken.  

But good things were slowly starting to happen.  A little at a time, I began mending fences with the friends I'd fought with in the previous months.  I felt as though there was a light at the end of the tunnel with regards to the everyday pain I was experiencing.  I started taking a more active role in making myself happy.  I was starting to heal, but I was still lower than low.  I felt as though everything I'd worked toward thus far, every thing I lived for, was gone.  What to do now?  I had a heart to help... and I'd tried and tried and it seemed like I'd failed.  

This, my friends, all that you have read up until this point, is the 'before'.

Here is the 'after'.

On December 3, 2011, just two days after the devastating news about my job, I saw this picture:  

From http://theblessingofverity.com/ with permission.

Now, if you've not read my blog up until this post, or are not part of the adoption community, you may wonder why on earth a picture of a child in a car seat could turn a 'before' into an 'after'.  Friends, let me tell you why.  That child in the car seat, her name is Katie, and she is nine years old.  She was adopted internationally, so malnourished that she weighed only 10 lbs.  What happened from then on is chronicled in my very first blog post, here.  There were nine days between laying my eyes on this precious child, and hearing God loud and clear in my own life.  Through every single one of those days, I could not get that precious girl - and so many others like her - off my mind, or out of my heart.  Not that I wanted to.  

Friends, I can't begin to tell you how the end of December left me.  Yes, I had surgery again.  More tears were shed.  More pain was had.  More uncertainties were faced.  More frustrations were voiced.  But everything - and I mean everything - had been put into a whole new frame. Where I felt no purpose before, I felt renewed energy and a call from Above that was impossible to ignore.  Every single one of those things that happened this year, and the one before it, and the one before that, on, and on, and on, had been preparing me for something - and doing a good job of it!  (This is a bit I will elaborate on later).  Where my faith was weak before, now it was strong.  Where my joy was small before, it was now huge.  Where my hope dwindled previously, it soared now.  God was using me to do His work - and He knew me only too well - to know just how willing I'd be to do this 'work'.  Purpose.  It was everything.

I will say that my initial reaction to what I saw was an emotional one - akin to when I was a little girl and wanted to give a home to every stray cat.  This is the truth.  But remember, nine days passed between the day I saw that photo, and the day I made the decision to say Yes to God's call.  Over those nine days, I thought of little else.  I read, I learned, I prayed, I researched endlessly, I still do.  The day I started this blog, my words were driven not by a temporary emotion, but by honest, informed determination; and so it has been ever since.  

I am not naive about things to come.  I know the reality.  In one short month I've read and learned so much, watched events unfold.  The road to the place I am today was not an easy one, it was rough and marred by obstacles, one after another.  I expect no less of the road ahead - and I welcome it, because I know, the rewards are great.  Because I know, this is right - and because I have Heaven on my side.  I thought I knew what I was doing, where I was going, and I thought I'd failed, but the truth lies in a quote from one of my favorite movies:  "Maybe God... has a bigger plan for me... than I had for myself."  ~ A Walk To Remember

So, there it was.  2011.  What, for all intents and purposes, should have been the worst year of my life - but for redemption in the Christmas season.  I can't say I'm sorry to bid it farewell, but what I can say, is that I'm excited to see what 2012 brings... and the year after that, and the one after that, and the one after that... on, and on, and on.