Category: children

Gwennie Ru and the Patched Heart

Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

As I said in the previous post, Gwennie will be glad to read this someday and know her history.

I can think of a hundred happy adjectives to describe how I feel today about GwennieRu’s recent VSD surgery, but I will stick with relieved, grateful and blessed. She now has expectation of normal growth and lifespan. She may get discharged from the hospital today, which is absolutely amazing.

Surgery, originally scheduled for Thursday, was postponed to Friday morning. This was a good thing since it put her first on the surgeon’s list for the day. Julia and Kevin took Gwennie to the hospital early Friday morning, and difficult as it was, handed her over to the surgical team. The other grandma and I joined them in the waiting room.

The first hour in the OR, Gwennie was sedated (so glad they did that first) and then IV’s were inserted so that she could be connected to the heart lung machine. Then the surgery started and we were given hourly updates by the staff.

The surgeon had previously explained this process to us. After the heart lung machine was ready, her chest was opened and her heart was stopped so they could work on it. At Gwennie’s age her heart is about the size of a large strawberry so you can imagine how delicate this sewing job had to be.

The incision in the heart was made in the right atrium, and from there, the hole in the ventricle was accessed through the tricuspid valve. A dacron patch was stitched over the hole, which was described as being large. It was tested for leaks, and then the heart was closed and started back up again. Sounds simple, but I can’t even imagine how they did it without lasting damage to any nerves, or the heart itself. The doctor did say that they cool the heart down so it doesn’t need as much oxygen while it’s without circulation.

It was so hard to see her when she came out of recovery. But it was the knowledge that each one of the wires, tubes and drains had a vital part in keeping her safe that made it tolerable. The pain meds kept her sleeping a good part of that first day, but she did wake up and took her bottle that night.

A girls has got to eat…

The next day, Saturday, the drain and the pacer wires, the intra jugular port and a couple IV lines were removed. In the afternoon she was doing well enough to move to the step down unit.

Yesterday in step down, she was weaned off oxygen. She seemed very comfortable and without pain and was playing with her toes and toys like she normally does. Today, if all goes well, she may come home. Isn’t that amazing?!

So, for any of you who read my previous posts and had compassion, maybe offered up a prayer for Gwennie Ru, know that we appreciated that prayer. God gifted men and women with the ability to do some crazy stuff medically, and Gwennie Ru was in the right place and time to benefit from it. He was watching over her, and us as we waited.

Postscript: They are home!

Mama’s “what more could go wrong?” Day

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As told through the infant eyes of Gwennie Ru.

This was going to be a good day because it was Mama’s day off work. I was looking forward to having her feed me, rock me, and basically devote herself to my every need all day. It was going to be great.

And it did start out kind of like that. I didn’t sleep well during the night but I was having a decent early morning nap. I could hear the washing machine going in the laundry room. I could smell the faint aroma of bread Mama had put in the oven. I was getting ready to announce that I was hungry when Daddy came in from feeding the animals. He said one of Mama’s favorite horses had not come up to get his grain.

When a horse doesn’t come up to get its regular feeding something is really wrong with the horse.

Well, Mama went tearing off to find the horse. I tried to protest but she couldn’t hear me. I did the only thing I know how to do when I’m hungry. I cried. Daddy went too. I don’t get it, but then, I’m just a baby.

I guess the horse was really sick, and since Mama is a horse doctor she was trying really hard to save the horse’s life. After a while, Daddy came back. He was supposed to be working at his job, on his computer. He hadn’t planned on the horse getting sick today. Yesterday, Daddy and I spent the day together while he was working on his computer and that hadn’t gone too well. I think he was worried that today would be a lot like yesterday.

Daddy turned the oven off and took care of the bread so it wouldn’t burn. I was still very hungry and felt that crying was still in order. I knew it would get to one of them sooner or later, and I would get fed, but no. In a short while, Daddy put me in the carrier and strapped me to his chest and we went out to check on Mama and the horse.

She had pulled the sick horse to the barn and was trying to get it in a stall and give it medicine, but before she could, she got real excited about something else.

For a minute or two, I forgot about being hungry and watched Mama run out to where her little milk goat was standing in the road. She had some of the goat’s favorite food and was trying to get it to come to her. That reminded me of how hungry I was and I thought about crying some more.

Mama’s little goat that keeps running away from her.

Mama chased that goat from one place to another till she was satisfied it wouldn’t get run over by a car. She gave the horse some medicine. And then she came over to me and Daddy. I thought they had been having fun, but evidently not. Mama said to Daddy “What more could possibly go wrong next?” Daddy just looked over at our car and said “maybe that flat tire?”

I don’t know about grown ups. Why would a flat tire make them laugh? But I do know that I like to hear them do that. I also know that it is a very good thing when Mama and I sit down in the rocking chair because I know I’m going to get fed. As usual, I got full and fell asleep, but I could still hear Mama calling Grandma and telling her about me, the bread, the horse, the goat and the flat tire and her “what more could go wrong?” day.

A good cry and a full tummy always puts me to sleep.

Working in Gwennie Ru’s Orchard

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Today, on her day “off” from work, Julia is pulling weeds in the orchard.
I was out early pulling weeds too. Then Julia brought her truck with this lovely mulch to spread around the young trees.
She also brought the supervisor, who promptly fell asleep.
We hauled and spread, straightened fencing and did our best to frustrate the fire ants.
A dozen trees set free from weeds and two tired (and sweaty, dirty) people who are glad to have the job nearly done.
Gwennie Ru spending time in her orchard.

The Last Day

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

12-31-2019

This morning is my cry time. It just hit me hard that this time I looked forward to so much is ending already. One daughter has left already, in the dark, on the trip to the airport three hours away. The other one leaves this afternoon. We have spent a week together, wearing ourselves out with talk, food, and as much activity as we could pack into a week of weird winter weather.

I am not put off by stillness or being alone, but the contrast is so vivid right now that I can’t not think about it. I’m looking at the special things they bought to eat and drink, but didn’t finish. I’m putting away the last puzzle we agonized over before we found out that one piece was missing. I’m trying desperately to think of what adventure I can plan next to mask this feeling of missing people I love.

I want to hug my kids again and tell them how much they are loved, and how much I hope they will always love each other. I want them to see how beautiful they are, how unique, how disarming and precious in those moments when they struggle.

There are always a few struggles even in the coming together. This winter gathering seemed characterized by the words “awkward” and “ bizarre” which we heard a lot, and said a lot in our conversations. Even in our commonness we are awkward and bizarre, and memorable because of it.

We are family, with the chance to display a special kind of love to the world. God help us to do do that.

Dinner and a Show

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments

7-3-2019

Dinner on the deck

We are still at Smith Meadow, and tonight we had our first dinner guests. The menu was my secret recipe Macaroni and Cheese with a salad, watermelon and raspberry cream cheese pie for desert. Brother Dennis and sis-in-law Mary Pat came out to join us (they brought the pie)(and it was good!). This was such a treat for Dennis because he misses out on family dinners now that he isn’t comfortable at the condos.

It’s mighty hot here, for Wisconsin anyway, and we ate outside on our deck which was cooler than in the trailer. It was early enough that the mosquitoes weren’t bad yet, the meadow was half sun and half shade, and the birds were having their final sing for the day. It was remarkably comfortable. We didn’t hurry it.

Family selfie

As we were finishing we heard a tractor approaching and, sure enough, it had a rake attached to prep the downed hay for baling. The surprise was that it was driven by a 15 year old young woman (in a dress), a Mennonite farm girl working to make hay with her dad. I didn’t get a picture of that huge rake and tractor as she ran it around the meadow – a missed opportunity for sure. We watched in awe, and clapped when she left. She acknowledged with a smile and a wave. She was one of eight children from the farm adjoining our land. My brother said he wouldn’t be surprised if she came back with the baler before it was dark.

Tractor and baler (shielded cab with AC of course…)

Sure enough, more tractor noises approached, preceded this time by an SUV driven by a mom with her four children in the back. The tractor and attached baler came next driven by the father with his one year old son on his lap. They start them young.

It didn’t take long for the family to leave the car and come sit on the deck with us. The children were such happy, farm savvy, healthy looking and enthusiastic young people that I kind of fell in love with them, quickly.

The eight year old boy saw the baler stop and immediately announced that his father had put too much hay in and had clogged the baler. He ran out and rescued the one year old while his dad crawled under the baler to fix things. He also gave his opinion on how many bales the meadow would yield and he was right. He had already been around enough hay fields to be knowledgeable.

The little guy would rather be riding the tractor with dad.

The girls sat next to me and conversed while we watched the field get processed. They were surprised when I told them many children don’t know what a farm is all about and think milk comes from a supermarket. We talked about cows, coyotes, their toy room, and how nice it was that their grandpa and grandma lived next door. Janessa, who is five, was the most talkative. She could have played Laura in Little House on the Prairie, if she had been an actress. But how much better to live the life and not have to pretend.

The baler got fixed, the field cleaned up right good with three big bales and a smaller one. The show was over. Our new friends got in their Suburban and went home. Night fell and the fireflies came out. Dinner and a show, but much more interesting and fun than the usual outing by that name… just sayin’.

Inner Child

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments

I am very much in touch with my inner child.  The “kid” inside loves mystery, loves playing outside, loves activity, adventure and all that stuff I used to be a part of when I was ten.  I think that’s why I love playing with kids when I get a chance.  I love it when I see them really having fun, being inventive and using their imagination. I especially enjoy when they are old enough to talk about what’s on their mind.

This last week children were visiting next door and I got to play. They were trying their hardest to enjoy the snow but they needed a sled and I had noticed one in the attic. I knew they liked animals so I introduced them to Scruffy the dog and had them join us on a walk. And on their last day to play we walked through the deep snow to see the hidden fort in the brush pile out in the wetlands. We sat inside on the carpet of dried grass and rushes and marveled at the construction, how “cool” it was. Kids love forts.

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Except for this entrance, it’s just looking like a big brush pile.

However, most kids also love playing with fire at some point in their growing up years. And it was this thought that had been bothering my brother since last fall. Knowing that quite a few people, many still school age children, were aware of the fort and its “coolness” he was always imagining the horror it would be to have the fort go up in flames with someone in it. The wood was tinder dry and the winter air had made it even more ready to burn quickly. He decided it was time to return to his original plan of burning the brush pile.

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The inner sanctum with its bed of dried grasses.

Around suppertime, I went out to say goodbye. I took pictures, crawled inside the fort and sat for a while. I took the small tin that had been left there as a souvenir. There was a little war going on in me – the inner child was having a small tantrum.

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The first match…

Later, with my brother and his wife, I watched the flames eat the brush pile nearly flat. It was a glorious fire, hot and fast. One match to the inside of the fort made quick work of the bed of dried grass and I could understand the wisdom of getting rid of a fire hazard.  It was a pretty sweet fort and it was fun just knowing it was there, while it lasted. But it was time. My adult self was glad that potential danger was going to be averted.  As an adult I’ve learned to ignore tantrums, even my own.

 

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My souvenir, all that’s left to remind me of an excellent fort.

I’m saving this little tin as inspiration. This is a rather large property with a lot of interesting wooded areas and I’m already getting ideas on where the next fort should be. Long live the inner child. Just sayin’…

Celebrating Today

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Although I am not with her, today I am celebrating the birthday of my daughter, Julia. As I scrolled through multiple pictures of her it was easy for me to recognize why I love her and am blessed to share life with her.

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First off, you cannot put this girl in a box. Oh, wait, maybe…

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Of course, I am her mom and have a fair amount of bias. There are a lot of “mom pics” in the album I’ve made. But most of the photos are of Julie with the family at large, with her Cambodian “sisters and brothers”, with her clients and their animals, with her own menagerie of four legged friends, Julie being silly, enjoying the outdoors, Julie being Julie. The smile is always present and gives the impression of coming on easily and quickly. She is connected. She is involved.

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I’ve seen her when she isn’t at her most glorious, when her dishes aren’t washed, when she doesn’t feel well, when she’s depressed, when she’s overwhelmed with her complex life, having a bad hair day, in trouble at work… all those things that happen to us all. I still like her. I always love her. I admire her resiliency and her ability to work through to better times. If I were a captain choosing my team, I would pick her.

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So today, thank you for keeping yourself in my life Julie. I am grateful for your friendship and all the wonderful opportunities you give me to talk, to laugh, to work, TO HAVE FUN! I am forever on your side and you are forever in my prayers.

Love, Mom

The Younger Generation

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Yesterday, just by chance (or maybe by design, I don’t know) a lot of children happened into my day. It’s always a blessing and I end up realizing how important it is to have people from a different age group in my life. It’s refreshing and gets me to thinking.

Three young men and their slightly older sister came to visit, along with their mom. I’m always amazed at how this young girl exists calmly and patiently between the world of her rambunctious brothers and the adults that she is beginning to identify with. And oh, how she reminds me of my own childhood with four younger brothers. Girl, I hope your mom reads this to you so you will know that I am praying for you. You will survive.

While we adults talked, the children played in the backyard (crawled through the cat door! Or rather tried to crawl through the cat door…), played with legos and generally entertained themselves quite well. I remarked on this to their mom and she talked about her method of training. When they come to her with complaints of boredom, she suggests they help her clean. Voila! Suddenly they are able to entertain themselves with something else. They often come to her for little snippets of attention which she meters out judiciously but there is none of this hanging on, whimpering, dissatisfied “when are we leaving?” stuff that could keep us ladies from talking. We had a good visit.

And earlier in the day I had an appointment with eight year old GPLL to choose some sewing patterns for herself and her American Girl doll. In the car I usually have the radio playing on a Moody talk station. Sometimes we talk when we are driving around but a lot of the time we are silent. I’m never sure if she is listening to the programming or looking at the “Where’s Waldo?” book I keep in the back seat for her. Yesterday there were some pretty gruesome news stories about the killing of school children in Pakistan, and also a description of the Christmas event as the coming of a “baby born to die”. This last remark caught her by surprise and we had to talk about it.

But my respect for the listening ears and the depth of her understanding came later. We had heard most of one of the half hour long programs and it was closing out as we turned into the parking lot and I shut off the car. I had been concentrating on driving more than listening but evidently that was not the case with my young friend. “That was a good message.” she remarked. Oh really? I should have paid more attention… Again, I’m just sayin’.