I've been trying to write this - or anything, really - for three weeks now.
I've made plenty of excuses that range in drama level and intensity; soccer just started, it's teacher appreciation week, I have a PTO meeting, it's spring and I just really don't feel like doing anything, the world is falling apart and I want to hide in my closet...
The truth of the matter is that I've been avoiding writing because I write with emotion, and I've been avoiding emotion at all costs (great costs) for awhile now. That, and I haven't known where to start. I really don't know where to start. But, I guess as any real writer would tell me, the only place to start is at the beginning.
Last year at this time, I wrote this article for a Pampers campaign. It really sums up what the first year of Brooks' life was like for us. Now his second year is almost gone, and this one has been exponentially harder. And more emotional. And more time consuming. And did I mention hard? Brooks currently sees seven different doctors, plus a few specialists like a physical therapist and nutritionist. We see those Dr.'s to address his on-going issues which have included stomach issues, skin issues, mobility issues, and allergy issues. We've spent countless hours trying to piece together the puzzle that is B. It's been overwhelming and scary and very, very isolating.
Last Friday, he underwent an endoscopy and partial colonoscopy and our very talented GI doctor found that he had eosinophil plaques in his esophagus, likely meaning he has a condition called Eosinophilic Esophagitis (EoE). It's a chronic condition where your white blood cells attack the esophagus due to an allergen. It's strongly connected to food allergies, and we already know Brooks has several of those. It may also be linked to environmental allergens as well. It's considered a "new" disease and there is still a lot that doctors don't know. BUT, and this is the best but ever, most of the research out there has been written by the team at the EoE Allergy clinic at Mott Hospital, University of Michigan. Amazing, right? A disease I had never heard of, with a clinic to treat it right in our own backyard.
So that's the plan. In June we'll head to Ann Arbor for our first appointment and from there the Mott team will coordinate all of his specialists for us. Instead of spending days on the road all over Metro Detroit to see one of seven different doctors in two different hospital systems, we'll head to A2 once or twice a month and see everyone in one day. I honest to goodness could not have asked for a better solution to a problem I didn't know existed a week ago. And that right there is so emblematic of our entire journey with Brooks... you just don't know what you don't know until it hits you in the face going 150 mph.
That's my emotional Brooks story, but it isn't all of my story. What this process with Brooks has really taught ME is about who I really am, what I'm made of, and how I cope with things. Confessing this next part makes me want to hide from Joyce, Macaroni Kid Founder and fierce advocate of "taking care of Mama Bear", but I've just got to get it off my chest.
In trying to deal with constantly searching for what I didn't want to know about B, I threw myself into every single other thing I could. Need a coordinator for an entire week of teacher appreciation events? Sure, I'll do that! Oh, there's a committee task force I can co-chair for a group that I love? Sign me up! Field Day? You got it! Macaroni Kid campaign? Another fun party I can host? Travel to the other side of the country with a seven year old for the weekend on a red eye? Check. Check. And check. (Then collapse.)
Now I'm calling Uncle. I don't know if it was the Portland trip that did me in, or maybe it's the relief of finally having some sort of diagnosis for Brooks. Heck, maybe it's even that the end of school is in sight, and dance season is wrapping up and oh my grapes, might I just be able to breath again soon? Maybe.
In the meantime:
Uncle. I'm apologizing for not publishing the newsletter for two weeks, and also I'm moving on to a more scaled back version for another few. {Please bear with me! And check the calendar and facebook page often!}
Uncle. I'm going to the last PTO meeting of the year next week, then not thinking about it again for the entire summer. Because I don't have to. There are lots of other competent people for that.
Uncle. We pulled the seven year old out of soccer. Because let's face it - anyone who saw her play knows she spent more time pretending to run than actually running anyway, so... Uncle.
Uncle. We postponed her birthday party which led to the most incredible parent guilt ever. EVER. But now we're going to do it our way - laid back (and catered!) over the holiday weekend. She's excited, even though we know it was a bummer to make a seven year old wait four weeks for a party.
Uncle Uncle Uncle.
Lastly, I'm updating the event calendar now, then emailing my Pampers test group and letting them know I "Uncle'd" them too, and then I'm closing the computer for another week while I breath. And chant. Uncle, probably.
Happy Mother's Day, All. Make sure you take all the Uncle moments you need, too.
XoXo
Andrea
