Preparing for Treatment

Last Friday, my brother-in-law and his wife had twins.  Over the weekend, Wendell and I visited them in the hospital.  Despite the fact that we were there to rejoice in the birth of two sweet little babies (Andrew and Amanda), the conversation turned to our kids and the concern about their eyes.

We talked about Emma and how she was due for her next treatment and how high her terror level had been at the last appointment.  I worried how I could get her to sit still and calm down enough for the shot.

As we visited, my brother-in-law said that when his wife had received laser eye treatments, to correct her vision, they put her on Valium or something, so that she wouldn't worry about the procedure.  It seemed like a brilliant idea.

First thing Monday morning, I placed a call to the pharmacist.  I explained the situation and asked about the Valium.

"No way," he said. "She'll sleep for the next two days."

"I had been hoping that she might be able to take something that would get her through the treatment, but still allow her to do her homework afterward."

He made a couple of recommendations, the best of which was Xanax.  He told me that it could stay with her for a couple of hours, but she should be fairly functional.

"Lots of people take it to fly," he explained.

My next call Monday morning was to my retinal specialist, wondering if they could please give Emma something, Xanax perhaps, to reduce her level of stress and terror at getting a shot in her eye.

*******

There are two retinal specialist at the clinic here in Utah County and, unfortunately, both of their last names start with C.  So I'm going to number them for you, to help you keep them straight.  Dr. One is the original retinal specialist here in Utah County.  Dr. Two is his partner who has joined the practice fairly recently.

The day after Emma first told me of her visual distortions, we saw Dr. Two.  Emma had seen Dr. One twice before, so I didn't really want to see Dr. Two.  On the other hand, Emma had a problem and need to be seen immediately.

When Dr. Two came in the room, he seemed rushed.  He would ask questions like, "Why are you here?", then say, "Uh huh, uh huh," all the way through my explanation in a way that made it seem that I was giving him redundant information.  He wasn't particularly interested in listening to anything Emma had to say (mostly about loving school, loving to read and wishing she was there).  I tolerated Dr. Two, because he was my only option that morning and looked forward to seeing Dr. One next time.

*******
I waited on the phone for the tech, Chadwick, to come back on the phone and tell us what the doctor had said.  I was surprised when the voice on the other end said, "This is Richard Two."

Dr. Two, himself had come to the phone, so I asked him about prescribing Xanax for Emma.  He thought that it was a good idea for her to take it, but was hesitant to prescribe.

"I'm nervous prescribing for her.  I frankly don't know how to prescribe that for a child.  I'm not trying to push you off, but I think that it would be a good idea if you called her pediatrician for a prescription."

I instantly felt bad/nervous because it was Emma's pediatrician's day off.  I happen to know where he lives because he's been my parents bishop for the last 5 years.  Still, I hate to call him at home.  Yet I felt sure no on-call pediatrician was going to give me Xanax for my 11-year-old.  I think I may have audibly sighed, because Dr. Two apologized for the inconvenience again.  Then he shifted topics.

"I ran into Dr. Lloyd on Friday as I was leaving," Dr. Two informed me.  "He told me about your other children."

He seemed intrigued about them from a medical standpoint.  It's rare enough to ever know one child Emma's age with this condition, let alone three in the same family.  The odds against this are astronomical.  But he paused with compassion.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Thank you," I replied.

He stayed on the phone with me for 15 minutes discussing the best course of action for my family and his willingness to work Nathan and Annika in immediately.  I appreciated the conversation, his interest in helping my children and even the compassion from someone who had struck me as rather cool and clinical.

After making several more calls to the Moran Eye Center, Dr. Lloyd's office and the pediatrician, I called the retinal specialist back.  I was unsure when the docs at the Moran would see my kids, but I knew Dr. Two would see them that week.  I called the receptionist.  True to his word, Dr. Two had left a message that I would call and they worked Nathan and Annika in on Friday, even though Dr. Two's schedule had been full for weeks.

The pediatrician was so kind when I called.  He had heard about my kids' condition on Sunday and was more than happy to help.  He asked about Emma's height and weight and was only slightly irritated that the other docs wouldn't prescribe for her since she's adult size.  He had some Xanax at his house and if I could come right over I could have it.  Bless him.  I threw on some clothes (I'd been making calls in my PJs) and rushed right over.  Emma would get to try her shot the next day all hopped up on some good stuff and I was hopeful that she wouldn't be screaming this time.

Nathan's Situation

As Dr. Lloyd examined my children last Friday, I learned some additional things about Nathan.

"Nathan has a few things going on," Dr. Lloyd explained.  "He has his far-sightedness, amblyopia and sub-retinal fluid."

I kept nodding as Mike talked, assuming that I knew what he was talking about.  But when "sub-retinal fluid" was something different than "amblyopia", I knew I was getting new information.

"Wait.  What is am-blee-o-pia?"  I asked, working to repeat correctly a medical term I was clearly unfamiliar with.

Mike looked disconcerted.  Like I should have known about this before now.

"Amblyopia is a condition where the brain can't see 20/20.  Right now the best Nathan can see is 20/40.  It doesn't really matter what prescription I give him, his brain can't recognize the extra correcting.  You didn't know about that?"

I paused, thinking.  It did sound a little familiar.  When Nate was 4 the eye doctor we saw then said something about that.  He thought if we came back in 6 months, Nathan might have self corrected.  Six months later, he hadn't.  So glasses were ordered and even though we came back 6 months after that and the year after that and the year after that, the eye doctor seemed satisfied with Nate's condition and didn't mention it any more.  I assumed that glasses had fixed it.

Mike chose his words carefully.  He seemed frustrated that the other eye doctor had not tried to correct this condition already.  He conveyed that it would have been better had this been tackled a while ago, but it wasn't too late, Nathan still had a shot at getting 20/20 vision.  But not with his retinal condition.

"Part of why Nathan can't see is the fluid under his retinas.  It's hard to tell right now how much of his vision problem is the amblyopia verses the sub-retinal fluid.  What would be best is to get his retinas to lay down and if his vision doesn't improve, then I can do some work on the amblyopia.  I'd like to see Nathan again in 2-3 months."

I have to admit to feeling irritated with the other guy.  Why, when he saw a big thing in Nate's eye did he not refer us to a retinal specialist?  Why, when he knew about the amblyopia when Nate was 4 did he do nothing?

I remind myself that only this November did we have any idea what had happened in Emma's right eye.  She had seen 5 different doctors and left them all scratching their heads.  None of them, including the retinal specialist and the pediatric opthamologist, had ever seen anything like it before.  How could this sub par opthamologist be expected to know what to do?

But amblyopia (also called lazy eye), is THE MOST common childhood vision problem.  Guess when the optimal age is to fix this?  3-5.  Guess how old Nathan was when it was found?  4.  This should have been treated long ago.  Fortunately for me, there is a buffer time period.  Between the ages of 6-10, amblyopia can be treated with good results.  After age 10, only a partial vision recovery is possible.  Thank heavens Nate is 8 and a half.

The big question is, how quickly can we get Nate's retinas to flatten out?  At Emma's current rate, it could take a while.  But that is a post for another day.

The Silver Lining

Today was Beck's doctor's appointment.  This morning I was a wreck.  I had a full on sob fest in the shower while trying to get ready for the day.  I didn't know how I'd cope with having an other child with this disease.  I didn't know what to do.  The prayer I wanted to pray (and prayed anyway, even though I shouldn't try to boss God around) was something like this.

"Please help me.  I can't take any more bad news.  I can't bear it.  Please have Beck be OK.  At least right now, just let him be OK."

But I know better.  That prayer is not me following God's plan for me, that's me begging Him to follow my plan.  So I tried to pray this prayer instead.

"I know that You know our journeys perfectly and that the trials we face are part of the perfect journey that will bring us closer to You.  Please give me strength to deal with the news, if Beck has the Macular Dystrophy, too.  You know I've had a lot of bad news this week.  Please give me Your strength to get through this."

Wendell, to my surprise and delight, accompanied me to this doctor's appointment, taking almost two hours off from work.  He wanted to be there if there was more bad news.  He knew I could use the moral support.

When we got in, they dilated Beck's eyes.  He wasn't a fan of the eye drops, but he did like the slinky and sticker that he got for getting through that part.  His eyes dilated quickly.  Dr. Lloyd accompanied us in for the scan.  He explained that it was unlikely that a three-year-old could hold still enough to get a great scan.  But if he could observe the scan, he would be able to detect more easily if there were problems.

Sweet little Beck wanted so much to do what he was asked, but had no idea what to do.  At one point the technician told Beck to open wide and he opened his mouth as wide as he could while still keeping his chin in the chin rest.  It was a needed moment of comic relief.  She scanned Beck's right eye first.  After doing the scan twice, for optimal results, Dr. Lloyd said the words I was longing for.

"That eye looks great."

We gave Beck a little break and I demonstrated for him how to open his eyes wide.  He got the idea and the scan on his left eye was even easier. The verdict was the same--Beck's eyes have no fluid under the retina's right now.  I was giddy after getting the news.  Elated.  We have two kids that are OK!

I blurted the news out to Wendell as soon as I walked in the room.  Dr. Lloyd donned a "hat" that looks like he's going spelunking and checked Beck's eye with a little mirror thing.  Beck held impossibly still.  Leaning on me as he sat on my lap, he tried to do what the doctor asked if he could figure it out.

"Your kids are so good," Mike said.  "And from someone who sees a lot of kids...  I know."

I appreciated the compliment, although a lot of that is just in their natures.  They inherently want to obey--all of them.

Beck got an official all clear and I set appointments for Beck and Anson for 6 months.  If they do start to get fluid under their retinas, we're going to catch it early.

This has been and will be a whale of a roller coaster ride, but for today I am just grateful.

President Monson said it this way, "We have all experienced times when our focus is on what we lack rather than on our blessings. ...[But] regardless of our circumstances, each of us has much for which to be grateful if we will but pause and contemplate our blessings."

Quote of the Day

"I testify that the Savior's Atonement lifts from us not only the burden of our sins but also the burden of our disappointments and sorrows, our heartaches and our despair."
-------Elder Jeffery R. Holland, Ensign, April 2006, "Broken Things to Mend"

Breaking the News

When we found out about Emma's Macular Dystrophy we ended up in doctors appoints for 3 hours.  People knew something was going on.  I got a call from my mom at the office and after I hung up, Emma wanted me to call Wendell.  The phone call went something like this.

"Hi sweetie!  It's me.  We are at the doctor's office, still.  Emma has been diagnosed with Macular Degeneration!  She's going to get a shot in her eye now!  Isn't that great that they can do something!  Alrighty.  The doctor's here so I better go.  I'll call you later!"

See how perky I was.  I didn't want to be, but Emma was right there.  He and I talked later for real.  But that was how I broke the news.

When I found out about Nathan and Annika, I knew this was not news I could break over the phone.  I wanted to get to Wendell--to be with him.  I wanted him to hold me.  I wanted a safe place to fall apart.

So I wracked my brain with what to come up with to make sure he was in his office, and not running some errand or other, without worrying him or have him press me for news on the phone.

All the way home from the doctors office, I fought the tears.  Hold it together, I said to myself, hold it together. As we approached home, I had a thought.

"Kids," I said, "I'm going to drop you off at home with Emma and go to Dad's work to fax something that Dr. Lloyd gave me."

When I got home, I said hey to Emma and got my fax number and took off.  Wendell got the same story and he was, thankfully, at the store.

When I walked into Honda, Wendell was waiting for me up front.

"Come with me," I said as I walked to his office.

"Why?  What?...  Where are you going?  My office is locked," Wendell sputtered.

"Go get your keys," I said and kept my back to the sales office.  I felt eyes on me.  But I was just barely holding it together.  Wendell came around the corner with his keys and unlocked the office.  I bolted in and shut the door behind us, sat down and fell apart as planned.

"Emma's not the only one with Macular Dystrophy," I explained.  "Nathan AND Annika have it too."

Wendell was in shock.  He asked questions starting with things like, "Are you sure?" and ending with questions about what to do next.

We made plans.  He hugged me.  I cried a bunch. Wendell got me tissues.  I pulled myself together and we went to the other office and sent the fax. Wendell told me to go to Wendy's and buy the kids dinner.  He would run an errand for work and pick us salads for us at Zuppas.  As I pulled out, I picked up my cell phone and began making calls.

It Runs In the Family--Part II

My mind started to wander after receiving the news.  My doctor recommended a particular doctor up at the Moran Eye Center and encouraged me to contact them on Monday.  I started asking Dr. Lloyd to write things down on post-its since my brain was still processing.  As he watched me, Dr. Lloyd gave me a post-it with his personal cell phone number on it.

"I'll meet you here night or day," he said.  "Please call me if you have questions or if I can place a call to the Moran Eye Center for you.  I can't guarantee that my call will do anything, but I'll be willing to do anything I can to help."

From what Dr. Lloyd understood, the Moran Eye Center can't do anything more for my children than the retinal specialists that we're currently seeing.  The advantage, in his mind, is that they are a cutting edge facility and will have the newest treatments available.

"You need to get all of you in," Dr. Lloyd instructed.  "You need to get the baby tested, but Jenna, I think this disease is dominant not recessive."

I blinked.  My brain was working so slowly--there was simply so much to take in.

"What I mean," Dr. Lloyd explained, "is that I think one of you has this.  There are simply too many kids effected for this to be a recessive trait.  Perhaps the blind spot for you or Wendell is way in your peripheral vision so you don't notice it.  But when you call the Eye Center, tell them that you have 4 kids and 2 adults who need to be tested.  You'll need to make a day of it.  Treat it like you would a day in the car.  Bring the snacks, games, the DVD player.  Just expect to spend a day there."

He went on to explain how much hope there was in the future.  Not just for the current treatments which were unavailable as recently as 7 years ago, but also for treatments that were yet to come.  There is current and future research.  There is hope.

I nodded.  In addition to all of the other thoughts running through my brain was, hold it together--just hold it together.

Mike looked at me and around the room.  The boys were climbing on the furniture and Annika was pulling on my arm and whining.  Since the kids weren't paying attention, Mike gave me the worst case scenario, too.

"It's possible that everyone's eyes could end up like Emma's right eye," he said.

"I know."

The code is, it is possible that Emma, Nathan and Annika could go blind.  But we've caught it early.  And we'll be able to give it a good fight.

It Runs In the Family--Part I

On Nov 19, 2010, my oldest daughter Emma (11.5) was diagnosed with a rare eye disorder called Macular Dystrophy.  On Dec 22nd, the retinal specialist informed me that he thought what Emma had was a rare, recessive genetic disorder.

"She has four younger siblings.  What are the odds that one of them has this?" I remember asking.

"Zero.  Nil.  She's the only one."

"Lucky me," Emma grumbled tearfully.

But I took enough biology in high school and college to know that that's not how this works.  Each child gets a 25% chance of having the disease.  Every one.  So I gathered up my courage and set doctor's appointments for Anson (10), Nathan (8.5) and Annika (4.8).  I left Beck home, because he's three and that seemed reason enough.

Dr. Lloyd (my friend Mike, from high school) seemed happy to see us.  He also has a 10, 8, and 4-year-old, so it was really fun for him to see my kids who are the same ages as his.

"Are you here because of Emma?" Mike wanted to know.

"Partly," I admitted.

I explained about Anson's squinting and other visual concerns, including, an eye doctor saying that he saw something in Nathan's eye a year and a half ago.

"OK," Mike said.  "Let's run a scan on him."  He went out of the treatment room and a few moments later came back in.   "You know what?" he ventured.  "If these were my kids, I'd want to scan them all."

"Great," I confirmed. "Let's scan them all."

Nathan's scan came up first.  The right eye was affected.  But so was the left.  Over the year and a half since the other doctor saw Nathan, his left retina had gotten a lot worse.

"This is like Emma's right eye," Dr. Lloyd explained.  "The difference is it's low in his field of vision so it doesn't bother him."

Anson's scan was next. Beautiful, flat retinas.  It looked almost concave compared to the pictures I had seen of Emma's eye recently.

Then Annika's scan.  It came on the screen.  Dr. Lloyd's shoulders slumped.  His hand came to his forehead momentarily.

"Do you see these?" he asked quietly.

"I do."

"I'm so sorry."

Both of Annika's retinas have fluid under them, too.  Three kids with the same rare disorder.  And we haven't even tested the baby yet.

Quote of the Day

"The influence of a mother in the lives of her children is beyond calculation."

-------Pres. James E. Faust, Ensign, Aug 2004, "Fathers, Mothers, Marriage"

What's the REAL Story

Once upon a time, a youthful-looking, middle-aged woman was in an office visiting with her ecclesiastical leader.  Just making conversation the man said, "How many children do you have?"

"Three," said the woman.

The man looked up disapprovingly and took a lecturing tone. "Children are a blessing," he said.


The woman nodded.  I don't know exactly what happened in the complete exchange, but the woman felt chastised for having had such a small family and felt that this man was suggesting she should quickly have more children.


But he was passing judgement without knowing the whole story.  First, he assumed, incorrectly, that she was still within child-bearing years.  Second, he figured that the woman had deliberately had a small family so that children wouldn't inconvenience her. Nothing could have been further from the truth.


He didn't know of her desire to have a large family, the miscarriage and years of infertility.  But it also wasn't any of his business.  So, she didn't share this with him, but merely left slightly wounded.


I think that most of us have had this happen to one extreme or another.  Someone takes one piece of information that is fact and extrapolates a story that doesn't exist, assuming the worst of us and injuring us in the process.  But we must forgive them, because their ignorance puts them in a category of, "they know not what they do."

Very often, we feel like this woman, where we could tell them the story and correct their judgement of us.  But in the long run, it's just none of their business.

Now the harder thought is, do we do this to others?  I have.  I remember hearing of a ward member who was hospitalized after complications from cosmetic surgery.  This didn't agree with what I knew of this woman and I felt so confused.  How could she be so vain? One day I learned that she had had cosmetic surgery as a result of treatments for a medical problem that left her deformed.  The cosmetic surgery was only to correct the deformation.

The reality is that we should all cut each other a little slack and not assume that because we know one fact, that we know the REAL story.

The Illusion of Power

When I was in high school I became a bit feminist.  Well, as feminist as a Mormon girl from Utah gets, anyway.  I hated chauvinistic jokes, but loved reverse chauvinism wherein women look intelligent, sophisticated and superior while the men in the jokes looked like apes.  (BTW, being a mother of sons has made me hate those kinds of jokes, too.)


I memorized all the words to "I Am Woman Here Me Roar" and would burst into song whenever it seemed the conversation was chauvinistic.  (My male friends in high school would let me finish the song and then, in their highest falsetto, meow.  Oooooo, that made me so mad. And they thought it was so funny.)


I was all about Women Power, Mother Power or whatever else that could associate me with Power. (Insert muscle flexing here.) I liked to feel powerful, smart and in control.  I liked to feel that I could control myself and my family.  I remember as a young adult, seeing kids misbehaving in a store and thinking, "My children will NEVER do that."


As a young mother, I started to realize that this power-thing, this idea of controlling everything, was an illusion.  I felt like I couldn't control anything.  Sometimes it just felt like life was happening and I was trying to react to each situation.

Over time, as the kids got older, I've had a sense of power come back.  That I'm-in-control-of-my-own-destiny sensation. And in that mind set, I've often not understood scriptures like Mosiah 4:11 where King Benjamin taught that we need to "always retain in remembrance...your own nothingness...you unworthy creatures."  I'm mean how does that jive with "I am a child of God and He has sent me here"?

If God knows and loves me individually, then how am I nothing?  Or if I am nothing, then how can God care about me?

I think the answer to this paradox is found in Alma 26:12.

"Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever." (emphasis added)

I, of myself, am powerless.  I have, at best, the power of one ordinary person.  But when I link myself with God by following His Spirit, then he gives me His power to accomplish everything that He wants me to.  Would he do this if he didn't know me and love me?  Of course not.  It is because He is my Father and knows and loves me perfectly that He wants me to be aware that I need Him today, tomorrow and every step of the way through my life.

Do I have power?  Nope.  No woman power.  No mother power.  Nothing.  But when I link myself with God by seeking and following His will, do I have power?  I do.  It's still not mine, but I am satisfied that God trusts me enough to give me "his strength" so that "I can do all [the] things" that He wants me to do.

Quote of the Day

"Because of my faith, I work through the struggles and difficulties in life with peace and assurance. ...And because of my faith--even in the seemingly worst of times--I recognize with peace and gratitude that, in reality, it is the best of times."
-------Bishop Richard C. Edgley, Ensign, Nov 2010, "Faith--the Choice Is Yours"

It'll have to do

Monday's kill me.  I used to love them--early out day, piano lessons (no practicing required) and Family Home Evening.  But Monday's have changed.  Piano was moved to Saturdays, so Emma signed up for an academic club called Odyssey of the Mind.  In this club the kids work on projects and compete with other kids around the state.  If they win at state, then they get to go to "world's".  Emma learned, to her disappointment, that if they win at state and go on to world's, then she'll have to miss the last week of school.  She loves school and doesn't want to miss a day, let alone the last week.  If they win, I foresee trauma.

The boys are taking Art, which they were taking on Wednesday, but they had basketball practice right after and one of them had scouts.  So Art got moved to Monday.  Here is how Monday now looks for me.

1:45  Carpool drops off the kids
3:45 Emma goes to Odyssey of the Mind
4:30 Anson and Nathan go to Art
5:30 All of the kids have to be picked up at two different places at the same time.

Now, you may ask, when do you make dinner?  Excellent question.  Lately, I don't.  This is a problem because my family likes dinner.  Now, obviously, it would be in all of our best interest if I got up in the morning and threw something in the crock pot.  But, in my head, I'm still on the old schedule.  So every Monday 'bout 3:00, I start panicking.

"Oh, no!" I think, "I don't know what we're going to have for dinner."

I spend the next 45 minutes wracking my brain for what I can make that I have all the ingredients for while simultaneously helping everyone with homework and piano.  Last Monday, I picked up Wendy's, then the kids.  They all didn't mind that I was late.

Tonight, Wendell voted that we go to Jason's Deli.

I love Jason's Deli so it sounded like a great idea.  Long about 6:30 we strolled into the restaurant.  We learned that, sadly, they had no pepperoni, so that child opted for a cheese pizza.  We also ordered 3 hot dog kids meals, one bow tie pasta and two adult salad bars for Wendell and me.

We found seats and after 7-8 minutes some guy comes up.  "I have bad news.  And I'm going to give you all your meals for free, but we have no hot dogs, and no pasta."

"What do you have?"  I wondered.

He came back with a menu.  We changed our orders to two PB and J sandwiches (major eye rolling by me, I could have made PB and J), and three cheese pizza's.  I had one child in tears about the change.

"At least they have ice cream," Wendell ventured. I nodded.  All disappointment would be forgotten after they'd finished dinner and had ice cream in hand.

After we ate, I took Nathan to get an ice cream.  There was a little sign over the "swirl" that said, "Temporarily Out of Service."  No problem.  There's still vanilla and chocolate.  By the time Nate had picked chocolate, Anson had wandered over.  I couldn't figure out what to push or pull.

"You'll have to get Dad," I told them, "apparently, I'm not smart enough to figure out an ice cream machine."

So we traipsed back to the table and when Wendell went back, all 5 kids were with him.  Evidently, Jason's Deli was now out of ice cream, too.  The "Out of Order" sign was for everything. The two youngest were howling.  Wendell had just gotten himself a bit more salad, but I was out of patience.  While Beck and Annika screamed that they wanted cones, I pushed them all out the door promising that cones were on the way--we just had to go to this other place...

True to his word, the employee, gave us our dinner for free, and said that he wanted to give us gift cards, but--you got it--they were out of those, too.

We loaded up and drove to Arctic Circle and spent $7 on ice cream.  And that, my friends, became Family Home Evening.  Waiting around for dinner and driving around for dessert.  It was pathetic.  On the up side, everyone was happy when we got home. I also learned two important lessons.

1. Don't go to Jason's Deli for a late dinner.  Ever.
2. I need to figure out what's for dinner for next Monday.

Coasting

My sophomore year of college I took a teaching of the living prophets class at BYU.  One of our big assignments of the semester was to read several talks by one Apostle and then write a paper about him.  We also did background on him, where he was born/grew up, what he did for work, and so on.

I read through several conference talks and I fell in love with the writing of Elder Neal A. Maxwell, so he became my subject for the semester.   His writing is poetic and profound.  Each line holds so much information and the imagery is amazing.  So the other day a friend of my was talking about an old talk written by Elder Maxwell and I couldn't resist reading it. 

It's called "Repentance" and was given in 1991 for General Conference, and it gave me a new perspective on the subject. 

I think that as members of the LDS church, and perhaps Christians at large, we think of repentance as a form of punishment for sinners.  But Elder Maxwell says, "Repentance is a rescuing, not a dour doctrine.  It is available to the gross sinner as well as to the already-good individual striving for incremental improvement." 

I'd like to think of myself in the category of the "already-good individuals," but am I "striving for incremental improvement"?  To reach "full consecration," Elder Maxwell says that we need to change our focus to "the sins of omission" which often become the stumbling blocks of the so-called, good guys.

He warns that "even when free of major transgressions, we can develop self-contentment instead of seeking self-improvement."  In other words, we have to stop coasting.

*****

I was a sober child with things related to the Spirit.  I started reading the Book of Mormon when I was 6.  (I remember being very confused and not really understanding what was going on. There was a lot about "seeds" like "my seed shall be blessed".  I did eventually figure out that they were talking about children and family...)  I was 8-years-old when I finally finished the book and put Moroni's promise to the test.  I remember being overcome with the feeling that this book was true.  Even though I couldn't understand it all, I was sure it was truth.

When I was in high school my arthritis was quite bad.  I had to go to the doctor weekly to get injections and still, there were times I limped or even had to use crutches because the pain was so severe.  But this experience also brought me to Christ and I learned that the Atonement is not just for sin, but for pain also.  I learned that, like the people of Alma, I could be strengthened in Christ so that my burden became light.

I don't know exactly when it happened, perhaps as I crested into adulthood with new worries and concerns, but at some point I started coasting.  God started to seem farther away and part of me doubted that He really cared about my everyday goings on.  I was never unfaithful.  I went to church every Sunday, held regular Family Home Evenings, had family scripture study and prayer.  I even went to the temple several times a year.  I didn't even realize that there had been a shift.

But I was coasting.  I wasn't studying the gospel the way I should.  I excused my lack by declaring that this was a hard "time and season" in life. (Elder Maxwell calls this a deficiency of style and declares that "[we] are too quick to forgive ourselves in matters of style.")

For more than a decade now, God has been patient with me.  But He wants me to understand "things as they really are."  And the truth is, God cares far less about my comfort than He does about my character and progress.  And so, in 2010, He began to stretch me.  (Think of it as spiritual yoga.)  And, naturally, I resisted.  But the stretching didn't stop and He brought me to a crossroads where I could coast no longer.  It was do or die.  I had to actively move toward Him or away from Him.  There was no middle ground.  

So I made my choice.  I will move toward him. I feel, now, like I've stepped out a fog or removed sunglasses.  Everything about the gospel seems so vibrant and new.  And even though I am no "gross sinner," I recognize not only that I am just as in need of repentance as anyone else, but also that without repentance I can't come closer to God.  I if I want to live with Him, then I must learn to be like Him and I can only do that if I am led by Him.

...And to the Dentist

Today Beck (3) and I walked into his room because he was in need of a diaper change.  He noticed his favorite blanket, Bob, was still in his crib.  (Yes, I know my 3-year-old shouldn't still be in a crib, but he's not climbing out and he's the baaaaaaaby.)  Delighted by his find, he rushed to pull Bob from between the slats.

It was then that he remembered that we were there to get rid of the stinkies so he dropped Bob on the floor.

"I'm gonna leave Bob there," he said, "so he doesn't get yucky and stinky and go to the dentist."

"Oh, yes," I agreed without really listening. "It would be terrible for Bob to get yucky and stinky and have to go to the dentist."

He nodded and I paused.  "Wait. Why would Bob go to the dentist?" I asked.

Beck held his hands out to the side as if it was obvious, "To get cleaned?"

Sure.  Why not!  But I hadn't thought of that.

Quote for the Day

I know bloggers who have a weekly ritual of some sort. Some have a Wordless Wednesday where they simply post an adorable picture of their child. Some have a Saturday Synopsis where they quickly rehash everything that happened the previous week that they didn't have time to post. I know one lady who does a Tuesday Shoesday and features new shoes that she bought. (Imagine having enough new shoes to post about it weekly!)

My most burning question is, what rhymes with quote? ....Zactly. It's a problem. And I'm not good about the weekly stuff. I mean sometimes I'll write every day, then other times it will be weeks and weeks between posts. It's just a matter of how busy I am and how big of a priority it is.

I guess this "feature" will be periodic. But I'd love to share some of my 200+ quotes. I don't really know how to pick, so I'll probably just go in order of General Conference talks I read.

Here is my first 2011 Quote for the Day!

"Joseph Smith was told that the terrible things he suffered for years at the hands of his enemies would 'give [him] experience, and...be for [his] good.'  The suffering we experience through offenses of others is a valuable, though painful, school for improving our own behavior."

------Elder Whitney Clayton, Ensign, Nov 2009, "That Your Burdens May Be Light"

Taking Care of Ourselves

As women we take care of things. We take care of our kids, our husbands, our house (to one degree or another), the dishes, the laundry, the homework, the music lessons, Family Home Evening, scripture study, etc. And we are good at it. We run everybody's life and help them get where they are going physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

We tend to take care of absolutely everything, but us. We are the person we tend to forget. We forget to get our exercise. We forget to eat right. We forget to study our scriptures. And sometimes, we even forget to pray. Not to pray, I mean we hit our knees every night and give Heavenly Father a memorized report, asking for a few things, expressing gratitude, never forgetting the missionaries and the Prophet.

No. It's not that kind of praying we forget. We forget to really pray. To just have a conversation with our Father in Heaven. We forget to tell him, "Today was a really hard day." And then tell him why. When we pray like this, everything changes.

One of the changes that I made last year has made all the difference for me. I started a quote journal.

It all started after I read Elder Scott's talk from Oct 2009 General Conference called, "To Acquire Spiritual Guidance." He said, "Had I not responded to the first impressions and recorded them, I would not have received the last, most precious guidance."

I had read through a few talks already in that Ensign, but I realized that, though I was finding messages for me, I hadn't recorded them. So I got a beautiful little journal and started writing. I learned that, "Jesus Christ took upon Himself the weight of...the injustices that are committed in the world to the end that we can be free from the consequences." (Elder Jorge Zeballos, Ensign, Nov 2009, "Attempting the Impossible") I was reminded that, "Through it all, the Savior offer us sustaining strength and support, and in His own time and way, He offers deliverance." (Elder Whitney Clayton, Ensign, Nov 2009, "That Your Burdens May Be Light") And I even giggled a little when I read, "In the scriptures there are very few stories of individuals who lived in blissful happiness and experienced no opposition. We learn and grow by overcoming challenges with faith, persistence and personal righteousness." (Ann M. Dibb, Ensign, Nov 2009, "Hold On")

In the last 6 months, I have jotted down 229 quotes just for me. Note the, just for me, part. It's rather easy for us to look through for quotes and think, "Oh. That quote is just what (so and so) needs." And maybe you're right. But it's also possible that you're not. In fact, you could be dead wrong. So disciplining ourselves to look only for us is a challenge, because we're used to caring for everyone else.

For me, this is particularly true of my relationship with Wendell. I would think, "Oh he needs to hear that." Or, "If Wendell heard that, that would really help him!" Really? Am I in Wendell's head? To even assume that I would know what would help Wendell is a version of playing God. And playing God is clearly inappropriate.

As I read through the talks, when something jumps out at me, I stop and think to myself, "Is this a message that I need or is this something that I think Wendell needs?" If it's the later, I leave it. I don't mark it and I don't write it down. It has to be a message for ME. And, apparently, there's a lot that I need to know.

My quotes aren't just from Conference talks either, although that is the source of the lion's share. My quotes are from other Ensign articles, Mormon Messages, other book's I read and the scriptures. Scripture study is also a whole different experience when I'm consciously looking for messages for me.

This seemingly insignificant little quote book is changing my life. And, although I don't have any idea what would be good for your life, I highly recommend it.

The Letter

Wendell decided a few months ago that we would try a new seating arrangement at church. Instead of sitting all seven of us on a single long pew, we would sit, layered on two small pews on the side. This seating arrangement has several benefits. Every child is now within arms reach. If Emma is sitting immodestly, we can tap her, if the boys are talking we can whisper in their ears that if they don't stop right this minute they'll be sitting on the couch at home in silence forever. You get the idea. Plus I get to sit next to Wendell the entire sacrament meeting, something I haven't done in years.

It also has some disadvantages. Like the little ones wanting to move from row to row, sitting with mom and dad for part of the time and sitting with the big kids part of the time.

Today, the little kids (Beck, 3 and Annika 4.5) were sitting on the row in front of us (Wendell and me) when they decided that it would be a good idea to put their feet on the pew in front of them. Now, you likely have all had children do that, thereby kicking your "neighbors" in the head, arm and accidentally pulling hair.

Unfortunately, for me, I wasn't aware of what the little ones were doing. I did hear Wendell chide them to get their feet down, but when the lady in front of us, heaved a big sigh, stood up, turned around and looked at us (the look said, "Please! Control your children!") I flew into action. I whisked Beck out of his seat and dragged him over the pew into my lap. Annika, quickly straightened up once she saw the consequences Beck was experiencing.

During Sunday school, I put my arm around the lady who has very long hair and apologized for my kids' behavior. Her reply, "I can understand if the kids make a bit of noise. But today, as if the noise weren't bad enough, then she (meaning Annika) started pulling my hair!"

"Oh, goodness!" I said. "I thought Beck had been the guilty party and once I realized what was going on I got him right out of there. I'm so sorry! I guess I got the wrong child."

But my kids were actually quite reverent. We had no major outbursts, until I hauled Beck into my lap, and the kids were quite quiet. So the, "As if the noise weren't bad enough," part kinda rankled me.

I found myself praying, "Please help me to not be upset. Please help me to be forgiving."

*************

In May of 2003, when my kids were ages 4, 2.5 and 10 months, we received a letter. It was typed, unsigned with no return address. It read, "Dear Brother and Sister Wood, We hope you will not be offended by this, but your children are rather disruptive during Sacrament Meeting. It would be better if you sat at the back of the chapel so that your children would disturb fewer people."

Wendell had the good sense not to show me that letter for seven years. But he made sure that we always sat near the front of the chapel, if at all possible. That fact still makes me smile.

****************

There is no way that that letter would have come from this family who was struggling to keep their own three-year-old quiet at the time. But this impatience with children bothers me. We are a family church, are we not?

Still, I learned a lesson today. I will make for darn sure that we never sit behind them again.

The Trouble With the Gift

My three oldest children participate in a gifted program. They are all several years ahead on their reading and ahead in math too. They have enjoyed the additional challenge and depth of projects offered as part of the gifted program. So, in theory, I should have been ready for Annika.

Annika started reading at 22 months. She could read Mama, Daddy, Annika and Baby. She never got them mixed up. So we just kept adding more words. It was hilarious to see her read as a two-year-old. You know when you watch those movies with animals talking and it looks weird because the lips are moving? It was like that. You just couldn't believe what you were seeing.

It would be cool if I could lay some kind of claim to Annika's skills, but I can't. She simply came this way. She is fascinated with academics. At four, she reads on a high 3rd grade/low 4th grade level, she is working her way through first grade math and demands spelling words and writes regularly in a journal. Some of our biggest fits come when I help the older kids with their homework rather than teach her something new because their assignment is due, while Annika's is merely self-imposed.

I've had people suggest that I put Annika up a grade. I haven't really entertained that idea for a few reasons. First, she has a late March birthday which puts her in the younger half of the kids in her own grade. Second, I expect that she would want to play with kids her own age. Third, by being academically so far ahead of her classmates, she would have the advantage of being a leader. Other students begin naturally looking to you for answers. When EVERYONE is older than you (some, a year and a half or more) how do you develop leadership?

So it seems that my mind is made up. Not so. Annika had a recent playdate with a girl in her preschool class. They way they wanted to play and the kinds of things they wanted to play were vastly different. There were times that you could see the wheels turning in Annika's head as she realized that this friend didn't understand what seemed obvious to Annika.

She kindly opted to play along at her friends level, and they had a good time. But I've seen her playing with neices of mine or Wendell, who are 6 or 7 and she plays much more like the older kids. I'm concerned that socially, Annika would benefit of being put ahead a grade, an idea that seemed proposterous to me before.

As Wendell and I consider our options, and there are many, do you have any experience of putting kids up a grade? Or were you bumped up? Did you like it or not? I'd really like to know.

I Have a Dream...

It's goal time again. I acknowledge that you don't care and might even rather not know what my goals for 2011 are. Well, avert your eyes then, because I'm writing them anyway. You see for the last two years I've actually accomplished some goals because I've kept regular track of them.

You remember, (what? you don't? OK, I'll remind you.) two years ago I had a goal to read 20 books and I read, like, 25. And last year...you've already heard about last year, but the point is I accomplished at least one goal! Isn't that great!

So without further delay here are my goals for 2011--at least the ones I'll track on my side bar.

1. Homework. I have nine lessons that I need to do for a class I'm taking. I'd like to finish them all this year.

2. Read the General Conference talks. All of them. There are usually 6 "sessions" in each Conference Ensign. I want to read 12 sessions by the end of the year. (Right now I'm still on Saturday morning from the November Conference, although I did read the Priesthood session.)

3. Go to the temple. Having turned into a more regular temple going patron, I want to go even more this year. I'll set the goal at 18 times.

4. Lose 32.4 pounds. I'm taking quite a plunge in saying that I'm going to track how much weight I lose this year. I'm hoping you'll love me anyway even if I fail miserably. But I've also learned the power of the side bar. It keeps me motivated and focused. Let's see how I do.

5. Read the Book of Mormon. Note that I do not say finish. This was not even going to be one of my goals this year, but my Relief Society presidency wants the whole RS to read the whole Book of Mormon this year, so even though I'm not going to, I figured I could at least track the progress I'm making. I ended the year last year on page 158. The other reason I'm going to include this--it's a goal that I can't fail. As long as I read at least one more page, I've succeeded. I LOVE guarenteed success.

Of Goals and Things

Last year I had three main goals:

1. To finish reading the Book of Mormon (again)

2. To read 8 novels to my kids

3. To make 10 temple trips

And...drumroll, please...I achieved one of the three!!!

Statistically, I don't think that's really great, but now I can take an opportunity to tell you why I'm not really minding.

First, the Book of Mormon is 531 pages long. So a mere 2 pages a day would have mastered that goal. And, as I recall, I started on page 30. By the end of January 2010 I was 57 pages in. So, um, what happened? Why am I only on page 158?

There are so many twists and turns on this path we call life that it's hard to foresee all of them. Or, really, any of them. And that, my friends, is what happened. There were a few twists and turns in the road of 2010 that I didn't see coming. It would appear that because of the aforementioned events that I gave up and all of my spiritual growth was put on hold for the year.

Not so. In fact, this year I think have grown more spiritually than in any other previous year of my life. Quoting a talk I read recently, I would say, "This time it is as if a veil has been removed from my spiritual mind and I see the same gospel, but in sharper focus, with clearer colors, and with added dimensions of understanding." (Elder F. Enzio Busche, "University for Eternal Life," Ensign, April 1989)

It has been amazing. It has been magnificent and incredibly painful, but, as always, it has been worth it.

In lue of reading the Book of Mormon daily, I substituted General Conference talks. First, I began with Nov 2009 Ensign and cherry picked the talks that I thought I needed. And there was so much in there for me that I started a quote journal. I got a beautiful little notebook and just began to jot down the messages Heavenly Father had for me in it. Then, I got my own copy of the May 2010 Ensign (Wendell and I now have "his" and "hers" copies) and I proceeded to read the entire thing cover to cover. I have never done that before.

That is not to say that I have been oblivious of the great messages from General Conference. I watch all 8 hours that are broadcast over the two days of Conference Weekend. And when I got my Ensign, I would always read the entire priesthood session, since I couldn't watch it. Sometimes I would read a talk here or a talk there, but often as not the Priesthood session was all that I would get done.

I had really overlooked the amazing experience of "feasting" on the words of modern day prophets with up to date revelation for the Lord's people right now. I pray I never do that again, because reading that Conference edition was so enriching. (I even read the YW's section!)

Despite all of the other reading and quote writing, I still read an additional 100 pages of the Book of Mormon. So, I think that is a great accomplishment, even if I didn't meet my goal.

Goal #2 was to read my kids 8 novels last year. In this post you can see that I just stole that as a goal from my friend and I guess I wasn't really committed. I tied my accomplishment of reading them 4 novels the year before and, perhaps, that's enough.

Goal #3 was to attend the temple 10 times. That is a terrible goal. Every year since I've been endowed, I've set a goal to go to the temple 12 times a year. And every year I've fallen short. 2009 was the record worst and I had gone to the temple only 7 times. So, for the first time in 13 years, I lowered my goal, hoping that I could actually achieve it.

And this year I have my personal best record of temple attendance. I found the temple to be an amazing refuge from those twists and the turns of life. It was a place I could ponder, I could pray and my mind would actually be still. I am so glad for every one of the 16 times that I went to the temple this year and hope that I will yet do better next year.

I am still thinking on the goals I need to set for 2011, but I am pleased with the results of 2010.

Which Do You Want First?

Yesterday was Emma's follow up appointment with the eye doctor. First the good news: Emma's vision is better. Last month she was seeing 20/60 with her glasses on. Yesterday, 20/25 with glasses off. And the lines have straightened out. Things don't look so wavy or squished.

The bad news: Emma's eye is continuing to degenerate or dystrophy depending on which doctor you're talking to. This doctor, Dr. Carver, says that she can't have macular degeneration because degeneration is, by definition, an age related falling apart. You can't have age related falling apart when you are 11. So, he calls her condition Macular Dystrophy.

The image showed more fluid under her retina and more weakening and holes in upper layers of her retina or macula or something on the picture that wasn't there last time.

Dr. Carver didn't really mince any words. She would need shots every 4-6 weeks until.... Until. Until some researcher somewhere comes up with a better treatment. Which could be a while.

You remember, of course, how much Emma LOVES shots, right? Only this time she knew exactly what was happening. So she freaked out in advance. She was sobbing and shaking so hard that Dr. Carver literally couldn't put the Novocain in her eye. He suggested just putting in the injection of the real medicine, but warned that it would be a bit tender.

Finally, I sent the doctor out to give Emma some time to calm down. She cycled through hysteria and calmness followed by more hysteria. As luck would have it, a seventh grade girl named Alexa was shadowing her...mother (?) that day. This is the same blonde woman who brought Emma the chocolate last time. So she came in to talk to Emma with Alexa in tow. They realized that they both attended Cherry Hill in the gifted program and visited about Emma's teacher and some of Alexa's former classmates who Emma knew.

Then they came back in with chocolate chip cookies. And bribed Emma with a whole plate of cookies to take home to the younger siblings. Most of the way through her second giant chocolate chip cookie, Dr. Carver came in and Emma was able to get through the Novocain injection--which is the worst part. Then I read to her a silly book that I checked out from the library and she got through the injection. She didn't black out in her eye and we were able to get out quickly.

As we were setting up her next appointment, another woman from billing looked up and saw us.

"How are you?" she asked with concern.

"Fine," I said, smiling, "except that we're here."

The billing woman is the mother of one of Emma's classmates and she came with us on a field trip last year. She knew exactly how devastating a diagnosis like Emma's is. Of course, without knowing that Emma is already half blind. So, it's slightly worse than she thinks, but she, at least, had proper reverence for what Emma is up against.

And perhaps she'll keep Emma in her thoughts and prayers. Which can't hurt.

Organization and Behavior

If I had a lot of money, I would pay a lot of money to have someone show up at my house and help me get organized. Sadly, I don't have a lot of money and I certainly don't have enough money to pay someone to organize my house. Do you think someone will take pity on me and help me with my house anyway?

I love to read about organizational behavior. I think it's fascinating. My favorite class in all of college was OrgB, which I took for my business minor. Sadly, there are no graduate degree programs at nearby schools for organizational behavior.

Three is Key

Beck turned three on Monday. And I've been terrible about doing these kind of--for your blog book--kinda posts. But I have to do one for my little guy. So here are some fun things about Beck. (Note on the pics: These were all shot in early July when Beck was more than two and a half, but we're calling them his two-year pictures and I'm posting them now while talking about his third birthday. )

*He loves the alphabet. For months the only lullaby he wanted was the ABC's, which is, arguably, not a lullaby.

*My dad taught Beck "The Wind Mariah" Song. I had to sing it 9 zillion times. I only know one verse. Then, Beck began to sing it to me. So, so cute!

*Beck will take his pants off when he gets mad. It's the ultimate way to punish me.

*Beck has become quite the little singer. He sings Old Nick Donald (with a farm, farm here and a farm farm there), Mickey Mouse Club (M I C A V I...), and Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeep, among others.

*Often, Beck will hop on the piano, set the metronome, and "accompany" himself to any of various tunes.

*Beck's birthday was on a Monday this year, so the Saturday before Wendell took the other kids out to each buy Beck a present. He knew where they were going and what they were doing. Sunday morning Beck woke up and said, "I want presents!"

*Beck loves to give kisses. He will often give you a BIG smooch. Sometimes he has to go in a certain order with a hug, kisses, "noseys" (rubbing noses), butterfly kisses, high five and knuckles.

*Since turning three, Beck has announced that he is a big boy and not Baby Beck. He's Cohen Beck Wood!

*On Beck's birthday, he was asking for presents alllll daaaaay. At one point in the afternoon, Beck asked, "Can I have my presents now?" I said to him, "Do you see anyone here for your birthday party?" He thought for a second and, with a twinkle in his eye, said, "Annika?"

*After Beck's birthday, if he saw anything he wanted he would say, "You're gonna sing 'Happy Birthday To Me' and give me a present."

Do You See What I See? Part V

Dr. Corey came in and Emma began whimpering.

"It's almost over," he told her. "You won't feel this at all."

He prepped us a bit on what to expect with the actual medication shot. Just like a basketball that's all ready full of air, getting a bit more air, Emma's eye pressure would increase when she got the injection. This leads to blacking out in the eye for a little while. If the eye pressure (and sight) don't return to normal fairly quickly, the doctor will withdraw a little fluid from the eye to correct the pressure.

Emma and I took our positions, her eyes on the wall and her hand in mine. Emma was more wary than she was for the first injection. She closed her right eye making the clamp hurt and once the injection began she turned her eyes back toward him, so he was unable to continue until she looked at her spot on the wall.

To Dr. Corey's credit, Emma didn't feel a thing. But the medication swirled in her eye making the room spin and go dark.

"It's gone," Emma said rather calmly.

"You can't see?" Dr. Corey asked.

"Uh huh," said Emma. "OK I'm ready to go now."

"Um. We've got to wait to make sure you can see first," Dr. Corey said.

"Oh. I can see," Emma insisted. She wanted out of there.

Dr. Corey lingered a bit rechecking her eye pressure until he was sure she was fine. Then Emma fairly bolted out of the room.

We picked up some nifty wraparound sunglasses that fit inside Emma's glasses and I led her out of the building and down the stairs to the car and directly to school.

********

Since the procedure, Emma's mentioned that lines are a little straighter. Dr. Corey told us that sometimes Emma's kind of macular degeneration can be corrected with only one injection. But he warned us that sometimes it takes many shots. He leaned into me at one point and told me that he thought Emma's eye would take many injections before her vision returned to normal.

Dr. Lloyd called this week to follow up and see how Emma was doing and answer any question I had. He told me that had Emma's left eye started to degenerate 7 years ago--when we discovered the blindness in her right eye--that the doctors would have only been able to say they were very sorry. And we would have sat helplessly watching Emma go blind.

But now, seven years later, there are two different injections--both with good track records. And Dr. Lloyd felt optimistic that there would be more good treatments in the future.

For now we just wait and see. Emma's vision has not yet returned to normal. Her next appointment is a couple days before Christmas. It's likely that she'll need another injection then. But Emma has come to terms with the fact that it's shots in the eye or going blind. And as much as she doesn't want to get shots in the eye, she wants to go blind even less.

I've put Emma's name on the temple prayer roll. We will be fasting for her tomorrow. But I have faith that whatever happens, will be the Lord's will. This trial, regardless of outcome, will help Emma, me and many others come to better appreciate the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

If you would, please join us in praying for Emma that her eye might be healed.

Do You See What I See? Part IV

The assistant put numbing drops in Emma's eyes. Last year when I noticed her right eye wasn't tracking as well with her left as it used to, I took her into the retinal specialist who said everything looked fine. But when they tried to do an eye pressure test by tapping on her eye with a special "pen" she freaked out. Ultimately, they never did the test.

This year Emma took her numbing drops like a woman and didn't freak out even slightly over the test.

"That was easy!" she said when the assistant had finished. She and I were both very proud of this new accomplishment. Little did she know what else she would have to endure before the appointment was out.

The retinal specialist, Dr. Corey, came in asking questions about why we were there and so on and brusquely dismissing the answers as information he already had. He spoke a bunch of doctor mumbo-jumbo into a handheld recorder with a message for Dr. Lloyd. Emma looked at me wonderingly, asking with her body language if I had any idea what he was saying.

I shrugged my shoulders and motioned above my head. The most I was catching was "open parentheses, close parentheses".

Dr. C bustled through the appointment with appropriate awe at the indescribable "situation" in Emma's right eye and talked a bit about macular degeneration.

"This looks like a case of what we call wet macular degeneration. These situations are rare in children and we need a dye test to verify what I think, but that fluid and debris build up that Dr. Lloyd showed you in his scan, that looks like wet macular degeneration. First the dye test. We will inject dye into your blood stream and track it's movement in the eye..."

He went on for a while explaining that only 1 in 100 people start puking when they get the dye and only 1 in 100,000 has immediate cardiac arrest, so, really that means it's very, very safe. That wasn't really what Emma and I got out of those statements, but I acted cool, trying to extract the phrases like "safe" out of the doctor.

We were walked into the photography room where Emma was first photographed as she has been before. Up close pictures of her eyes were taken, then it was time for the dye. Emma hates needles. She burst into tears as the photographer was taking out the dye and syringe.

It had been a long morning and now she was being stuck with a needle. I tried to distract her, cracking lame jokes and plying her tissues for her running nose. Once the needle was in--it wasn't nearly as bad as she'd thought. As the dye was released into her blood stream, the photographer took a 20 second video clip of the dye entering and moving through her left eye then took pictures of the interior of each of her eyes every 30 seconds for 10 minutes. It actually wasn't as long as that sounds.

Emma was keen on the photographer. He was young and handsome and funny without meaning to be. She reported later that he was her favorite, him and the woman with the chocolate.

Once all the photography was complete, Dr. Corey came in and walked us through what we'd just seen.

"This is a standard case of macular degeneration. If I didn't have Emma sitting right here and I was just looking at these pictures of the eye, I would say that she was 55 with macular degeneration. See the brighter spots here and here," he said pointing at screen, "this is where she has leakage."

He explained that the eye has the retina, a layer of protective tissue, then blood vessels. If the protective layer weakens, as it has in Emma's case, then the blood vessels begin to leak like a garden hose that's perforated. As that fluid accumulates beneath the retina, the retina bends distorting the vision.

Then he said the best thing I had heard all day, "Fortunately, we have a couple of medications that work on macular degeneration. They must be injected into the eye, but the eye is easy to numb and the procedure will be completely painless."

Emma was whimpering already, so he continued, "I mean completely painless."

I am not a squeamish person by nature. And having been diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis when I was ten only added to my courage when it comes to medical procedures. I have never squirmed, whimpered or cried during a blood draw and I could take injections too. I've been given them in my hip, my backside and I've even given them to myself in the stomach.

But eyeball things have always bothered me. Stories of people going blind by accidentally poking a fork in their eye or even fake eye procedures on TV or in a movie left me queasy and unable to watch. I would clamp my hands over my own eyes and say loudly, "Is it over, is it over, is it over?" until the answer was, finally, yes.

So, as Dr. Corey instructed us that we would move into the next room to do the procedure immediately, Emma and I would both have to face our worst fears.

"Did you hear that he said, 'painless'?" I asked Emma as she grudgingly allowed herself to be led in to the procedure room.

"I don't like needles," was her only answer.

Dr. Corey popped in and out of the room dropping numbing drops and antibiotics over and over in Emma's eye. I pulled a chair up and loudly read Eragon, working to keep her calm.

Eventually, Dr. Corey came in and was ready to begin. First, we learned, she would get an injection of Novocain--exactly like they use at the dentist's office. That would, he revealed, pinch a little, but it wouldn't be bad and everything after that would be painless.

I held Emma's left hand with my right. "You can squeeze my hand a hard as you want if it hurts."

The doctor put an eye clamp on, to keep her eyelids out of the way, exposing her whole eyeball. She picked a spot on the wall and stared at it as the doctor poked a needle in my daughter's eye and injected enough fluid to pucker a spot on the white of her eye into a tiny, puffy pillow. She squeezed my hand hard, but made it through.

"That was the worst," Dr. Corey assured us. "The next one is easier."

I looked my daughter constantly in the eye, even with the puffy puckered part, and told her that she would be fine. As I settled down to read Eragon again, a thin blonde woman poked her head in the door.

"Do you need some chocolate?" she asked.

To Emma, this women was an angel with special vision to present her with the perfect gift. Emma just gaped for a moment.

"You see," the woman explained, "we have this leftover chocolate from Halloween and, I don't know about you, but chocolate helps me feel better."

Emma giggled a little, "Me, too."

"Would you like the chocolate now or after?"

Emma paused, thinking. "Um... after," she answered without conviction.

"Because, if it were me I'd want it both. Now and after."

Emma relented with a giggle again. "Me, too."

The woman returned momentarily with an unopened bag of mini candy bars and insisted that Emma take two handfuls. I unwrapped them for Emma, who could see less and less clearly, as I read. She was, for a moment in heaven, a book to listen to and chocolate in her mouth. She has just polished off the last mini candy bar when Dr. Corey returned for the final time.

Do You See What I See? Part III

Back in the exam room, Emma's appointment turned very normal. Mostly, we did more of what we'd just done in the opthamologist's office. The only real things of note we're on a test on Emma's "blind" eye, they put a little screen in front of her eye and asked her if she could see better.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Emma said. She seemed impressed. "The letters are a 'C' and 'N'," she said with confidence. The screen made her vision worse in the left eye.

"What was that?" I asked the assistant.

"It was pinholes that change the way that light is refracted. We just want to see if there's a way to eke more vision from the blind eye."

It had been seven and half years since we had discovered that Emma was blind in her right eye. No one had ever tried to eke more vision out of that eye. I was intrigued, but the focus at today's appointment is Emma's left eye.

Do You See What I See? Part II

We walked into the retinal specialist's office on the heels of our nurse. She handed off a chart and some squiggles Emma had drawn on a small grid--showing where and how her vision is distorted.

I stood expectantly holding both Emma's and my coats, Emma's backpack and my purse. I shifted my weight from one foot to another. "You may have a seat," the receptionist instructed us and I dumped my armload on a chair.

"What time is it?" Emma asked for the second time that morning. She HATES to miss school and has received awards in years past for 100% attendance. In first grade, she begged me to let her go to school the day after she had been released from a children's hospital with a head injury she got sledding. Not want to squelch her enthusiasm, I let her go.

"9:30," I told her. She sighed. The book report she had worked so hard on the night before was due today and, as much as she loves books, she was hoping to do an "author share" where she would talk about her book in such a way that other's would want to read it. The time the share would end was at 9:15 when the remaining half of the class arrived.

To say that Emma loves to read is a massive understatement. She reads, 250 books annually. At least. When she was in third grade, I realized that Emma could read faster than I could and maintain the same level of reading comprehension. Now as a 6th grader, she can read exactly twice as fast as I do.

With her eyes dilated, she can't read, but she needed desperately to get her hands on a book. "Can you read to me?" Emma asked. "Books calm me," she admitted, "when I feel nervous they just let me escape."

"I get that," I told her. "Have you got a book with you?"

She went through her backpack and pulled out Eragon by Christopher Paolini. It's 544 pages long and Emma has read it 5-6 times. It's a favorite of hers and I like that it takes her 3-4 days to read it. I opened to the first page and began, "Prologue: Shade of Fear. Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world...."

I couldn't help thinking that a chapter about shades of fear and the world changing was rather apropos. I didn't find the book nearly as distracting as Emma did. We were only a few pages in when we were called back.

Do You See What I See? Part I

Thursday afternoon, Emma (11.5), said to me that she was having trouble seeing things on the computer. "It's been going on for a little while now, where straight lines look wavy and round objects look squished and oblong."

I led her over to a small cabinet. "Does this look wavy?" I asked. "Yes," she said, and so do the blinds and the lines between the tiles."

Now any mother of any child is going to react when the child starts having weird visual disturbances, but Emma is already blind in her right eye. When she was born there was a vein that grew into her field of vision. On that vein is a calcium deposit and a bubble of fluid. These things combine to block the center of her vision. She has peripheral vision and a little on the inside of the eye, but dead center is blank, blinding that eye. But this wasn't a huge issue, because aside from being a bit farsighted, Emma could see just fine out of the left eye. Until now.

I quickly called a few doctors and got her an appointment first thing Friday morning. The first appointment that was available in the morning was with a friend from high school. My mom had seen him and was impressed, so I was delighted that he had an opening early.

We explained to Dr. Lloyd what was going on with Emma. He had her eyes dilated, scanned and examined. As he showed us the scan he explained, "As you can see here there is fluid and debris under her retina. This fluid is bending the retina which distorts her vision."

He paused and looked at us. "Now the question you have to have is, does this have anything to do with the right eye? I don't know. But logic says, it has to."

Emma looked at me with some panic. She knows very well that she's blind in her right eye and if the same process was happening in the left...

Dr. Lloyd left to call the retinal specialist and see if we could get in now. Emma slumped in her chair and said, "I'm scared." I went over to her and hugged her. I wanted to cry and was fighting against the tears that were swelling. Someone had just told me that my little girl, my avid reader, was going blind. Or might be going blind. I wanted to sit down and just have a good ol' cry. But I needed to be strong for Emma. We had so little information at that point and my friend, Mike was trying to get us into the specialist who could give us that information. Mike came in and told us that the retinal specialist would take us right now and one of the nurses would walk us over to the specialist's office.

As we left, Dr. Lloyd looked me in the eye. Despite my chipper disposition, he could see that I was fighting back the tears and the worry. "Call me," he said, "and tell me what they say." I nodded, shook his hand and thanked him.

Pumpkins

Bragging Rights

If you hate it when people brag about their kids--avert your eyes. Annika (4.5) read a verse of scriptures tonight all by herself. (Note: by herself means that she had no help.)

Here is her verse: "Behold, now it came to pass in the sixty and ninth year of the reign of the judges over the people of the Nephites, that Nephi, the son of Helaman, returned to the land of Zarahemla from the land northward." (Helaman 7:1)

Seriously.