Tri season? What's that...?

So, we leave today for St. Petersburg for St. Anthony's.  Normally, this would be an exciting thing, with the girls competing in Meek and Mighty tomorrow and us scheduled for the Oly on Sunday.

Normally.  The OLD normally.  The NEW normally is a bit different :-)

Lim, obviously, is not competing in anything besides "most weird medical issues in one year".  Bim, on the other, surprising hand, is actually planning to race the M&M... a true shock, considering she declared late last year that she did not like tris and had no interest in ever doing another one.  Then, out of the blue this week, she asked us (M, Lim, and me) "what do you think about when you are running?" -- which of course elicited responses ranging from "THIS SUCKS" to "Squirrel!" and everything in between.  Finally we settled on asking HER what SHE thinks about when she is swimming, as the mental conversation she has to encourage herself during a race is probably similar to the one Lim or I have during ours.  M, on the other hand, falls squarely in the "THIS SUCKS" camp, so was actually kind of less useful on the topic.  At least we understand the miserable scowl on his face in every picture of him running, lol.

So, it appears that the one who loves racing will be watching and the one who loves watching will be racing.  Go figure.

Then, Sunday, is the Oly.  Now, M has a big weekend ahead of him, as he has actual goals and an actual chance to achieve those goals.  His wave starts 15 minutes ahead of mine, which will be kind of fun since we might actually see each other on the turn around on the bike, and the run (if I make it that far).  I am very psyched for M and am actually toying with the idea of not racing AT ALL just to cheer him on... in part because he never gets to be the focus and in part, frankly, because there is not much point in me racing.

 This has already been a bizarre year training-wise.  For the past 6 months the girls have been with us almost exclusively (the biofather had them for 3 whole weekends between Oct 31 and Jan 15) and they HAVE been with us exclusively since Jan 15th.  This is a wonderful thing, but it has required some juggling and adjusting of training on my part.

Of course, the adjusting and juggling went nuclear on January 22, when Lim got her concussion.  So, it took a little time to adjust to THAT, but I did, and ran a great River Run race.  That race gave me a great boost training-wise, and the confidence that the new training plan (involving far more rest and adjusting on the fly than I had ever wanted, lol) could work.

Then, I stood up from a chair and almost fell on my face because of some weird pain in my right knee.  Weird.  The next day I went for a simple 6 mile run, and experienced a sensation in my knee I've never felt before -- far different than the standard knee pain that is, well, standard.  The run left me limping horribly and unable to push off the wall or straighten my knee.  An MRI showed no "structural" damage but a heap of inflammation.  Amorphous nothingness in terms of fixing it...

I tried short runs twice more, with the same pain.   Switching to non-weight bearing water running gave me 25 minutes of pain free motion before the same pain kicked in as on the road.  So, for the past few weeks, I've done NO running (in OR out of the water).  I've biked moderately, and swum plenty, but...

Add in very little rest during the three week poopathon (culminating with a whopping 3 hours tonight, through no fault of anyone but my own damn brain) and I don't have low hopes for Sunday, I have NO hopes for Sunday.  The current plan is to do a swim/bike brick and then play it by ear.  Of course the forecast is for 15mph winds out of the east, so it might not be even THAT much if they ace the swim again.  Since it will be the first time I've taken any running steps since the MRI, who knows how it will feel if I actually come out of T2 trying to run.  I'm kind of terrorized that I will take a few steps and, even after several weeks of no running rest, it will feel like it felt when it first happened.

What little killer competitive instinct I had going into this week pretty much evaporated last night anyway, as sometimes being the keeper of the emotions and the worry leaves me drained and listless.  I am sick of drama in our lives -- medical issues, biofather issues, incompetent coaching issues to name a few sources -- and sometimes worrying about the minis (especially Lim right now) just eats me up.  Call it a design flaw in my brain, but... the more tired I get the more my stupid brain spins around and around and around about stuff.  Hence the not overly restful three whole hours of sleep two nights before a big race.

So, this weekend will be about Bim and M, two team members who seem to always take a back seat when it comes to the tri focus yet who are just as talented as the other two, broken, team members.  It won't take much for me to talk myself into taking my focus off of dreading my own race by leaving bumblebee home, and putting it on M's race exclusively.  He deserves it.

...that's my why, what's yours?

Someday, this will all be funny... right?

It's been a few weeks since I've had a chance to update.  Lim's recovery from the PCS continues at an extraordinarily snails pace.  We've been faithfully doing PT, and added in acupuncture as well.  Lim HATES needles, but is a trooper for the acupuncture.  So far she has not had that AHA moment where she is suddenly headache free, but she does seem to be making tiny bits of progress.

Where she could not read or watch tv at all for most of the past 3 months, she now has done both on a limited basis on several occasions.  She reports an increase in headache, but the fact that she is choosing to do it and deal with the headache tells me either it is increasing less or she has increased her tolerance for the pain, or both.

She is back to full schedule, minus PE, at school, and her grades at the quarter check point were almost normal -- all A- and an A.  This is a phenomenal improvement over where she was when she first returned 6 weeks ago (think 50s and no clue why she got wrong answers).  She has to work much harder, but, that won't hurt her in the long run :-)

She has tried to swim and bike a bit, and is slowly adding that back in although it still makes her head hurt a lot and makes her dizzy.   There is no time frame on her getting back to actual serious pursuit of any activities.

To say this has been difficult on her is an understatement.  As the weeks stretch on and the headache remains to varying extents, she's struggled to keep a positive attitude at times.  And, the strain on her sister is showing too, as Bim has been less patient and tolerant of Lim's limitations, and has expressed HER frustration at how everything has to revolve to a certain extent around Lim.

Lim had been looking forward to her 12th birthday on April 15th as kind of a demarcation between illness and a new start.  Unfortunately, that didn't happen, as she rang in her birthday with the headache intact, a nice head cold, and what we thought was a stomach virus.  She had to come home from school early, sick, on her own birthday.  I tried to explain that we would all laugh about it someday, but she doesn't believe me.

After her birthday, the "stomach virus" stretched into a full week, and we went to Mayo.  Now, normally I love Mayo, but in this case I came away a bit irked at how they handled Lim's situation.  After the first week they suggested we put her on the BRAT diet, which is fine.. but now, in retrospect, I am bemused as to why they didn't consider other causations sooner.  Her symptoms continued to worsen, and when I called back a few days later they suggested a trip to the ER.

Now, I am not someone who uses the ER as an extension of my health care provider.  To me, an ER visit has to be, well, an EMERGENCY.  I didn't think this rose to that level, so Lim suffered for several more days of abdominal pain/cramping and 15+ trips a day to the bathroom.

When I saw blood in her stool for a second time, I called Mayo AGAIN and we went AGAIN to see our doctor.  She decided that we might want to do a CT scan and stool sample and some blood work, and again suggested we go to the ER to do all of those.  I preferred to have it done through the regular system, so Lim had her blood drawn, I completed my degree in poopology by collecting stool samples, and we arrived at Mayo at 7am the next day for the scheduled CT.  The doctor also started Lim on a course of Cipro.

We arrived only to discover that, contrary to what our regular doctor appeared to believe, Mayo does not DO scans with contrast on pediatric patients.  So, back home we went to wait for our regular doctor to call (and apologize?) and tell us what to do.

The call finally came late morning (no apology) and we were told to just go to Wolfson's ER.  I got the distinct sense that they were over the entire topic of Lim's stomach issue.  We did go to the ER, where she received fluids after they discovered she was too dehydrated to draw blood from... and they performed an xray and some more blood work as well. 

The ER doctor suggested we consider admitting her for observation and fluids, but agreed that if we felt like we were able to manage it at home, she would be better off at home.  We agreed that we would head home and then, if symptoms continued, come back Monday to the ER and gain admittance to facilitate obtaining a CT scan.  The ER doctor put her on Flagyl, another antibiotic that apparently is prescribed for stomach stuff.

Home we went, and I called Mayo to see if the blood work and/or poop sample testing had returned.  The nurse AGAIN acted like I was a PITA for checking on the results, not all of which had come back yet.

Saturday dawned, and Lim continued with the symptoms.   When a call came in from Mayo's trunk number I knew something was up, since no one calls from there on a Saturday.  Sure enough, the on call doctor called to say the infectious diseasey people had called HIM to let him know Lim's samples came back positive for something called Clostridium Difficile (but his friends call him C-Diff).

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/c-difficile/DS00736

Guess I wasn't such a psycho PITA, huh.  Suddenly, we had Mayo's attention, and the doctor's minions have called pretty much every day to check on Lim's progress.  We've had to up her antibiotics (Flagyl is the first line of defense) as the drugs and the bugs were battling to a draw.  I had to email the school and explain that, while Mayo poohpoohed my concerns, Lim had been wildly contagious for TWO FRIGGIN WEEKS and that the classrooms etc needed to be sanitized.  EHS helpfully sent out an email blast to the entire middle school warning parents of the c-diff invasion, thankfully without naming names.

All in all, it's been a pretty crappy 2011 for Lim, and even I am starting to struggle to keep that sense of humor going...

...that's my why, what's yours?

training volume, such as it is...

It seems like the only time I find time to write is on days I take off, lol.  (Well, I am swimming today,  but as I've said, that's a day off to me).

I've been thinking a lot lately about the differences in the way I train versus the way so many of the triathletes I know train.  I don't know what causes the difference, but it's there and it's obvious, to me at least.  Some possible causes:  different priorities, kids vs  no kids, my propensity for injuries, mental toughness (or lack thereof)... I'm sure there are more.

In a nutshell, I don't do the training volume that everyone else seems to do.  Frankly, I don't know how people find the time, energy, and health to do the kind of training that (sing along) everyone else seems to do.  At times I wonder if I am selling myself short by not pushing it harder or differently.  Other times I know without reservation that I couldn't (wouldn't?) handle the volume others do.

I don't use a coach.  My life is neither predictable nor easily scheduled around a given training requirement, and my training is often based on how my body feels and what needs a rest at that given moment.  (Case in point: I had planned a longer trainer ride and swim today, but when I woke up a) my legs were dead, b) my knees were sore past the acceptable point, and c) I realized I was starting down that path of "more more more" and needed a day off.  So,  off it is...)  I would drive a coach nuts and s/he would stress me out completely, so, no coach.


In many triathlon circles, telling someone you don't use a coach is like telling a group of 4 year olds you don't believe in Santa Claus or telling a hair stylist that you can cut your own hair, thank you very much.


So, I look around at the training my coached friends and acquaintances do (and even some of my uncoached ones!), week in and week out, and, yes, sometimes I feel completely inadequate and like a slacker.   I really do think people would laugh if they knew what my training looks like, yet it is about all I can handle physically and schedually.   I do wonder what I could accomplish if I could/would train as my peers do (peers defined as anyone between the age of 22 and 65, male or female, married or not, kids or no kids, training triathlon, lol), and it takes effort sometimes not to compare and to remember to stay within myself.


My first Oly was 3 years ago this month.  My first full Ironman was 17 months ago.  My first half ironman was last year.  (Yes that is backwards).  Anyway, the point is, I've only been training with any degree of focus for 3 years.  A lot has happened in Matthew's and my world outside of triathlon in those 3 years, which has both detracted from and ultimately improved my training.   It's been a learning process, and I am fairly pleased with where the training falls right now, inadequate in the world of tri-studs though it may be, lol.

For the first time ever I have been running 6 miles or so consistently 5x every two weeks, on average.   I am also swimming consistently, and have been, more or less, for a year.  When I first started I literally did about 700 yards by 50s and called it a day.  As a former swimmer, nothing made me gag more than swimming, lol.  Feeling like a floundering special needs swimmer in the Hammerhead ocean swim in '09 somehow spurred me to actually do more than 1000 yards twice a week.  Now I swim 3k, 3x week on average, and I am pleased with myself for doing THAT.  (So, I smile inwardly when I hear a friend and very accomplished tri-gal say that she only did 2400 so it wasn't even worth doing...)


But, what I am not doing, and will never do, is hit the kind of training volume I hear around me.  18 milers every week.  4 and 5 hour road rides on back to back days.  Seven or eight or nine hour training days.  Wow.  I stand in awe of the ability of my friends to do these things.  I worry about all of them and hold my breath that all the effort will not dissolve in injury before they can reap the benefit of their dedication.  Personally, I'd be in an institution trying to do that, and my kids would hate me.

I always feel like I'm teetering on the edge of turning nagging aches and pains into full blown problems, so training turns into a game of "how close to the edge can I get without falling in" on a daily and weekly, and seasonly, basis.  I think a lot of endurance athletes  play that game, of course.  We all want to push ourselves as far as we can go before something pushes back.  The pounding our bodies take, by definition, leaves us prone to injury if we are not cautious and vigilant.  And, I think we all have a limit that is uniquely our own -- everybody's body draws the line differently.  One training plan that works for me might create a chronic injury for you.  And I KNOW yours would kill me, lol.


So, maybe I am more cautious than my peers, or more hesitant.  I want to be the best I can be, but I want to BE for as long as I can be.  That's not an easy tightrope to walk.  (And, of course, body parts give out without warning or identifiable cause, so the best laid plans can blow up in your face anyway...).  It is always an interesting feeling coming to a starting line and feeling fairly good about your own training while also knowing you are wildly UNDERtrained in the eyes of most of the athletes around you.  Don't get me wrong -- I work HARD, and the nontriathletes out there are convinced I am obsessive and insane.... but compared to my peers.... hmmmm...not so much.

...that's my why, what's yours?

Approaching 10 weeks of headache hell...

Another week has passed by, and Lim remains stalled in constant headacheville.  Some small improvements have been noted in her demeanor and academics (where she was failing she is now getting low Cs, woohoo), but the progress is snail pace slow and she/we struggle sometimes not to get discouraged.  The pediatric neurologist at Shands still believes Lim will make a full recovery, but it is tough to picture that happening anytime soon.  If she could just go an HOUR without the headache... just an hour...

Lim has tried to bike on her trainer a few times and she swam once.  Both cause her headache and dizziness to skyrocket, and she can only do either for 10-15 minutes.  It is encouraging that she wants to try but wildly discouraging that she feels so awful when she DOES try.  (This and other things cause me to flashback to Flowers for Algernon repeatedly, a book that deeply affected me the first time I read it AND when I read it again recently)...

I found her sitting in her room the other day, sadly looking at some pre-concussion papers/grades.  As it has become blindingly apparent that she will not be racing the kids' triathlon in St Pete in a few weeks, or the Ironkids in Orlando in mid-may, she's gotten visibly more frustrated.  She also knows that Gator Swim Camp in June, which she and Bim have been so looking forward to doing (they've never gotten to go to a sleepover camp before, and some teammates/friends are going as well), is looming and that she can't go if she is not in some kind of shape (assuming she is even feeling better by then).

I look at the pics of her playing flag football and soccer as they cycle through my computer screen saver, and MY heart sinks.  I can't imagine how she feels.

She definitely has developed a keen sense of appreciation for things she is now missing.  She has gotten animatedly angry at some of her classmates at times for, in her opinion, being disrespectful to the teachers by either not putting effort into assignments or not taking them seriously.  I doubt I will hear much grousing about morning practices if she ever gets to participate in them again.  She has not complained at all about a school assignment or homework either, as right now she is grateful to be able to even participate to some extent.

Lim is back to what seems to be a full workload of homework now in several classes.  She participates in quizzes and tests now as well, although the teachers are not writing grades on her papers (which is nice, but she can still do the math to figure out a 6 out of 10 is a D).  I have no idea if her grades are counting or not right now, and honestly I really don't care either way.  Lim does, but I keep reminding her that 6th grade grades go nowhere and no one will ever see them.  Her response: "I will see them and the teachers will see them!" - yes, true, but, everyone who matters knows what is going on right now.... which is small to no consolation to a child who takes...well, took... great pride in being a conscientious and successful student.

Her main problem, hopefully caused by the headaches, is what I consider "concentration" or focus -- she forgets to finish a math problem, or forgets to add two things together, or can't retrieve the name for an object or concept.  Apparently words like:  elephant, s'mores, ax, ruler, scale etc are stored directly behind the left ear.  I've also found her substituting similar sounding words for things I know she knows (I can't think of a good example right now, but it is pretty funny when she does it..) and I've seen her struggle repeatedly to recall the right word for concepts she is trying to name.  I suppose it is quite possible that she has incurred some degree of permanent damage because of this, but until the headaches check out we really won't know.

It is coming up on 10 weeks since the concussion.  Sometimes it is hard for her, and me, to believe it will ever change.  The headache has been omnipresent at this level for 8 weeks now.  We stopped the Elavil completely rather than ramp it up to 30mg/day, as she was a walking zombie on it and it had no perceptible positive affect on her headaches.  No OTC pain meds do any good for her headache.

Lim gets physical therapy 3x/week now, and, while Libby feels like many of the issues in her neck are starting to clear up a bit, there has been no perceptible change in the headache AND she is very sore from the exercises and manipulation.  I keep telling her that it can take a long time for PT to really help, and that it usually makes you feel worse in the short-term because it makes everything sore and cranky.  But, even I am starting to lose faith that it is going to really help.

We go in for cognitive testing in a week or two at Nemours, although I don't have any idea what that is supposed to show other than that she is impaired.  Since the Drs have said that she won't be considered permanently disabled until this has gone on for a year, I don't see the point, but...

Another weird byproduct of this entire thing is Lim has become somewhat spooked by all things unknown.  Death, illness, unexpected accidents or events, cancer, and any other sort of bad but uncontrollable and unpredictable thing you can imagine all seem to loom large in her mind, and she gets scared (especially at night) and does not want to be alone.  She seems to be focusing on the scary and bad things out there... and it does not help that she is still not sleeping very well at all, so in addition to chronic pain she is rather zombie like at times with deep black circles under her bright blue eyes.

So, it is a mixed bag to report right now.  Small indicators of progress mixed in with discouraging glitches and constant pain.  Sometimes I wonder if this is all my fault, because I have not hesitated to express my amazement at the girls' accomplishments and my appreciation of their gifts.    Funny thing is, I am just as proud of Lim now as I was before this happened, as she is a fighter and is slowly clawing her way back academically (and I know each "grade" she gets represents effort on her part, which is all I ever care(d) about anyway... doing your best, whatever that may be)... I just feel acutely ill trying to help her walk the line between pushing herself to work her way back AND accepting herself as she is now (ie being kind to herself and understanding that things just are not the way they were right now...).

It's a weird place to be -- we can't really go through the process of mourning what is lost because we are not really sure what IS lost permanently, or when we might know.  It's an awful limbo with no end in sight and no clear path to follow.  And, when you hunker down to get through and then look up and realize another week, or two, or a month, has passed without significant change in the underlying problem, it's hard not to get washed away in the flood of desperation and despair and anger.  So, you withdraw and wallow in your own muck for a few, cry a bit, curse like a longshoreman, vacuum up the endless dog fur, chug some chocolate milk, and go swim.  At least, I do.

...that's my why, what's yours?

3 years...

I woke up at not long after 1 or so this morning, as I have for the past three years on this date.  As it has before, it took me forever to fall back asleep, and even then it was into a light and fitful sleep.   I think it says a lot about Molly that she touches so many people, even in death.  I know how difficult getting that phone call 3 years ago was, just a few hours after her passing... and I was only her coach.  I cannot imagine how Janet, her Mother, felt, or how she has been able to handle it with the grace and open heart that it appears she has... Even I, as he coach, still want to take her and shake her in anger and frustration, and then hug her.   It's confusing.

Other than that, I guess the eulogy says it all - it was an honor to deliver it and I'm not sure I could put my feelings into words any better.  I've posted it before on this date, and will probably post it again.  Molly, hope you and JD are driving God slightly nutso up there.

Molly Eulogy, 3-29-08

I've sat down to write many words about my swimmers in the past 8 years -- conference championship presentations, fall sports banquet presentations, college recommendations -- and each celebrated the accomplishments and joy of a generally wonderful group of young men and women. Needless to say, I never seriously contemplated writing anything like this.

Since my phone rang at 1a Sunday morning, I've had many voice and text message conversations with former swimmers and parents. I know that many, especially the kids, are struggling with the age-old question of "why" -- why Molly, why now, why like that...

Many feel a confusing mixture of emotions. I do. Many even feel anger. Me too. All feel a deep empathy and concern for Janet and Morgan. None of us have good answers.

Why did Molly die? We will never really know, and the only source of comfort to many will be an abiding faith that there IS a good reason, whether we are aware of it or not.

I know many people search for some meaning in an unexpected death.

Many people resolve to seek lessons in a death to change their own lives from there forward... which is fine, but that resolve tends to fade when the impact of the event lessens over time.

So... I believe that the real question is, and the real comfort comes from answering: "Why did Molly LIVE" -- for I believe that the lessons that will most affect us come from taking the best that Molly had to offer and incorporating that into who we are from this moment forward.

I believe that the greatest way to honor an individual is to emulate the positives from their lives -- really, what greater compliment can you truly give a person?

So, let's try to forget Molly's death, for a moment, and focus on Molly's life -- and from that life, let's take all that was good and give it immortality by carrying it forward in our hearts and minds.

Molly lived her life with gusto. She loved. She laughed. She cried without shame. Her passion and emotion governed all. She was a fierce competitor. She was her mother's loving daughter. She was exasperating in her ability to get herself into all kinds of chaos through convoluted yet well intentioned choices. Molly's engine burned brightly, always.

Molly was many things to many people. She was a talented swimmer with unlimited potential. She gave, and received, affection and love easily and enthusiastically. She cared about the people in her world. She craved love and friendship.

I believe that Molly had an empty space inside her heart that led her to look to others at times for affirmation and acceptance -- she was a very gregarious and social young lady, and in looking to fill that space Molly thrived on the attention and feedback she received from friends and teammates.

Molly loved the spotlight, and the spotlight loved Molly.

I truly believe that Molly loved her existence. She loved living life, even when life was not easy. I also believe that Molly unconsciously knew that she was not destined to grow old, and that that knowledge drove her to live with a greater passion and fewer inhibitions than most.

Molly had very little fear. She was not afraid to love. She was not afraid to be affectionate and giving. She was not afraid to openly show her emotions. Molly was not afraid to give compliments. She was not afraid to experience things. Really, Molly was not afraid to live life.

Molly was a beautiful young lady with a well-intentioned soul. No matter what situation she found herself in, and she found herself in a few interesting ones, I always believed that Molly's path through life was never malicious or mean spirited.

Through the years I know both her Mother and I occasionally wanted to knock on her head and ask to speak to the occupant, yet Molly always managed to maintain a bright outlook and an optimism and enthusiasm we can all appreciate and envy. Janet, I know without a doubt that your daughter loved you more than anything. She respected you, and appreciated you, and was proud of you. I know I speak for everyone when I say that Molly was a truly unique young lady who touched us all in different ways.

The image I will choose to hold of Molly is of the times her wonderfully upbeat and competitive personality came blindingly into focus -- I especially think of some of her amazing swims on relays when her teammates were counting on her, and her endless enthusiasm for her team and coaches.

I will forever picture Molly's open and smiling face, her exuberance, her strength, and her determination.

I don't need to tell you that one of the hardest parts about a death too young is the haunting thoughts of what could have, or should have, or might have been. There is no doubt in my mind though, that, while Molly may not be very happy about being in heaven, she is certainly sitting next to JD Hall, making fun of his buttoned up shirt, and appreciating this gathering in her honor.

I will leave you with this plea:

I challenge you all to focus on what was in Molly's life and what will be in YOUR life -- and to give meaning to Molly's life by choosing to carry her spirit forward. When you walk out of this church and resume living your lives, and the shock of Molly's death begins to recede, I challenge you to let Molly's passion and enthusiasm, her joy for life, her love for people, and her ability to smile in the face of all adversity become part of you -- Let Molly's legacy be for you each to leave here carrying a hint of her fire and enthusiasm in your heart -- for THAT will give meaning to Molly's death, and honor to her life.

Hardest Training Day(s) of the cycle...

The hardest training day in the whole calendar is the day I take off.  It's the most difficult mentally, even if it is the most beneficial physically. 

I know, I know, to avoid over training we need to have easy days AND rest days.  The athletic gains we make are actually made while resting, not while exercising.  Rest helps our body recharge and ward off injuries and illness.

Etc.

Blah blah blah.

BUT, when you have two kids on spring break and one of them has turned into an extraordinarily high maintenance child (we're working on that one), and every 2.37 seconds the word "Mommy" "Mother" "Momma" "MOM!"  "MuhTHER!" or some derivation thereof is uttered at various volumes, and your main source of stress relief is working out, NOT alcohol consumption, a rest day feels like the worst kind of torture.

And, an unplanned rest day is the worstest torture of all.  For example, today I HAD planned to do what I consider "active rest" -- i.e., swim, probably 3000 yards or so.  My body does not particularly consider that a workout, and I don't use my legs at all so they get the day off.  Alas, like so many other training plans these days, that went away and today turned into a "take Lim to the orthodontist unexpectedly, scramble to get a surprise together for Matthew, race to get Bim to practice at one end of town and Lim to physical therapy at the other, and zoom home to put the finishing touches on the children-driven surprise for M."  (Insert 43 "MuhTHERS" here in the time it took to write that sentence.)

Fine.  I'll take the damn day off.

Now, Lim just got rubber bands on one side of her mouth, aka the same side of her head that hurts continuously too... and if you've ever had rubber bands you know that that side of your jaw feels like someone hit you with a 2x4 several times, for several days.  So, an already "on the edge" kid personality-wise just got drop kicked into the abyss, as the perfect storm of constant headache, no physical activity, lack of solid food, and now a wonking pain in her mouth combines to create LIM, THE UBER GREMLIN.

So, not only am I feeling like the broad side of an expanding barn that is rapidly losing fitness (yeah yeah, it's only one day off blah blah blah... every triathlete reading this is nodding in understanding right now), I am also the bullseye encrusted target of Lim's (justifiably) sparkling personality.

Thank GOD Bim is in happy-ville these days.

Now, I don't know about you other tri-geeks out there, but on my rest days I spend a lot of the day mentally going over a checklist of what I am doing for training in the next few days.  Mentally torturing myself in a way, as I think about how great it will be to kick my own a** for several hours tomorrow in a run bike brick, or do a longer run and ride the bridges this weekend.  I think about it over and over again, probably hoping that if I think about it enough it will actually HAPPEN, and nothing will cause a major training-reorganization, again.

And, of course, sane or not, there is always the dogging notion that everything I eat on a day off forms an immediate muffin top and bike padding.   Squish.  Shut up.  I hear it.  SHUT. UP.  Maybe you should just grab a quick spin.  SIGH.  Don't you come with a mute button?!

So, yes, we insane triathlete types train insanely, and everyone oohs and aahs at our heavy training days and weeks.  But, I submit that when we are in the throws of serious training (especially Ironman training, see:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B03dFMG8nR4

(pardon the language)

the hardest thing for us to handle mentally is actually NOT doing any training.

And I bet our spouses/partners/children just LOVE when we take time off.  That is probably only topped by the two weeks of taper prior to an Ironman race, when most of us have the personalities of wet cats and YOU are the barking dog.  Six months of heavy training interspersed with a few days here and there of mental stress, aka days off, and then we back off of mileage AND have the actual event looming.  Maybe they should give survivors' medals to the families, not finisher medals to the athletes.

So, I will now waddle upstairs to find a pouting Lim, who is angry because I am actually taking five minutes to myself, and herd her and a bubbly Bim into the truck to start the afternoon rodeo.  Only 14 more hours until my rest day ends and I can get some training done.


Assuming I can talk myself off the cliff and stay away from the trainer until bed time, of course.

;-)

...that's my why, what's yours?

Riding the roller coaster, reluctantly

When I was 6 or 7 my grandfather was diagnosed with bladder cancer.  He lived in NY and we lived in PA.  His battle with cancer spanned two years.  It took me about two months to get over the roller coaster mentality that often consumes people in situations like that -- one day he is doing GREAT and the next day we are getting the call to drop everything and drive to NY because he was assuredly dying.  This went on for the better part of the two years he was sick.  I became numb to it long before the adults seemed to, and when my first mother in law got cancer 12 years ago I did my best to refrain from riding that ride again.

The past two months with Lim have been a different version of the same ride.  Although I know intellectually not to get too pumped at the highs or too depressed at the lows, it is far easier said than done.  I think we've done a fairly good job, but it is impossible not to have my attitude and outlook at least somewhat affected on a daily basis by Lim's demeanor, pain level, and prognosis.

On any number of occasions now I have sat down with my face in a shepherd's fur and cried, hard, for a bit.  Lim has shed a few sets of tears as well.  Some days have seemed very bleak, as she does her best zombie imitation (complete with deep dark bruises under her eyes and freakishly pale skin) and her mood suffers.  But, somehow we have managed to scrape the rock bottom, stand up, shake ourselves off, and regroup.  So far.

Matthew has pointed out, to Lim's eternal disgust, that there have actually been a discernible amount of GOOD that has emerged from the concussion and PCS.  Lim does not subscribe to the "good things have come from it mindset, although we keep reassuring her that she will, once she emerges from the haze and the headache goes away.

What could possibly be considered positive from this whole situation?

1. Bim and Lim are closer than they've ever been before.  Last summer and fall they would actually resort to physical violence against each other at the biof's house, and Bim carries actual visible scars from the battles.  Matthew and I think that the stress and tension over there brought out the worst in both of them, and somehow instead of being allies they became adversaries as their methods of dealing grated heavily on each other's nerves.  Things had improved with the limited time spent over there, but once the concussion happened, a miracle seems to have occurred.  Bim declined to ditch her injured sister to go on the famous cruise, and, other than a brief spasm of resentment at the changes in our world, became solicitous and kind to Lim.  As Lim has returned to school, Bim has spent lunch periods with her in quiet locations, away from the din of the lunchroom, and has even referred to that as "our special conversation time".  From all reports, the two sisters who could barely be civil to each other now spend 50 minutes every day conversing on all sorts of topics.  If I had known that this would happen I would have smacked one of them on the head years ago.

2. Bim and Lim are quite clear on the reality of who the biof is and what his priorities are, and how they feel about it.  Unfortunately, it took the cruise fiasco and his complete mishandling of counseling, the concussion, and other issues to fully convince Lim, especially, that he is not going to change.  She has struggled, early on, with it -- "if we get 10 people off the street to tell him he is wrong, will he change" and "if he loved me, he would listen" etc - but has also expressed relief that she finally knows for sure who and what he is and how she feels about it.  Bim has essentially eradicated him from her life and thoughts.  She has him programmed in her phone to go straight to voice mail every time, and she listens to a sentence of his message before she deletes it and forgets about it.  Lim is still more raw about it, but follows essentially the same course.  His complete fumbling of everything this year has given the girls the "proof" (in their minds) that they needed to give themselves permission to move on, and now we just deal with the emotions on the scattered occasions they arise.

3.  Bim and Lim are here what seems to be permanently, and our family life, although disrupted, has settled into a comfortable, normal rhythm.  With each day that passes without the pressure and stress of swapping, Bim especially seems happier and more content.  Lim, of course, is tough to read because of everything she has been dealing with, but I cannot imagine what a nightmare this would all be if she were still bouncing houses.  It has taken every creative approach and ounce of patience and gentleness I possess to work with her and deal with the mood swings, fears, neediness etc she exhibits.  If she had to deal with the emotional wasteland that is the biof, Lim would be in a very bad place.

4.  I have completely reformatted my attitude about and approach to training and racing.   So much of my mental and emotional energy has to go to Lim (and to a lesser extent, Bim as she adjusts to the hopefully temporary paradigm) that I simply HAVE to accept and embrace rest days and more targeted training.  I have had to become much more flexible and forgiving in terms of what I do, when I do it, and how I feel about myself/my training.  Where before I felt almost compelled to train a certain amount, and it became almost a burden, I know look at it as opportunities and blessings.  I am trying to get more out of less by making the less into more, if that makes sense.   I feel, generally, more focused and at peace with the training and my goals.  And, on days I don't, I rest, or just swim (rest with chlorine).
The Gate River Run race was truly a shock to me, both mentally and physically.  Before the concussion I had been hoping to do enough speed work to really have a chance at beating my old PR (1:07).  After the injury, I lowered those sites to trying to beat my only other GRR time (1:11).  I consistently ran 6 miles two or three times a week, but I only did one run of 9 miles (the week before the race, lol) and didn't really think there was much hope of holding sub 7:30s for long.  So my plan was to just ease into the run and see how it went.  Which is why, when I looked at my watch after the first mile, expecting to see a 7:15-7:30 pace, and saw a 6:27, I silently (I hope) let loose with a lengthy string of expletives, most of them wrapped around the word "dumbass".  Eventually I decided that the 6:30 would even out an 8 minute mile over the bridge, and soldiered on.  Sometime before mile 3 I saw Mark, who would assuredly be finishing 3-5 minutes ahead of me.  I passed him.  I also saw Lim's track coach and her uber speedy 50 something mom, who I also knew would be running in the 1:04 or faster range.  I passed them.
More expletives, accompanied with terror at how I was going to explain to the girls, who were getting text updates with my splits, why I died such an awful death in the latter stages of the race.  Meanwhile, the watch stayed stuck in the 6:45-6:55 pace range, and the miles ticked by.  I grabbed water at every available water stop.  I pictured Lim and how she would blame herself if I did not run as well as she knew I had originally hoped to run.  I thought of the IM Lou finish chute and tried to keep imagining I was running down that.  The 10k mark passed by and I almost choked at the split.
At mile 7 Lim's coach and her mom pulled even and slightly ahead.  I ran a few yards behind them, still muttering bad words at myself, interspersed with reminders of the short distance left to run.  Up the bridge we staggered, and I realized that, barring falling OFF the bridge or killing myself on the grates, the finishing time was going to be faster than I'd even hoped for before the concussion.  And, it was :-)
After the race I realized that the experience could turn out to be a watershed kind of moment for me, as mentally AND physically I felt better than I have in a long time.  Going with the "smart less-is-more" approach, mixed in with a strong desire to do well and make Lim smile, seems to have potential.  Stay tuned.

5.  Lim WILL be a much different person on the other side of this mess.  She is already different in some ways.  She's had to deal with such serious issues and questions since this year began -- from the situation with her biofather to the many topics raised by the concussion and struggles since then.  Unfortunately, Lim has been forced to deal with mature issues -- loyalty, trust, weighing pros and cons of accepting someone as is and the cost-benefit analysis of maintaining a relationship with someone, finding inner strength to express unpopular feelings etc....  as well as timeless issues -- death, what makes a human human, disappointment, loss, uncertainty, faith, God, heaven, perseverance, patience, fear etc (you get the gyst... and you should be glad you are not in the spotlight trying to figure out how to answer/discuss all these topics!).  She's learning to apply the qualities that make her a good athlete to life in general and to her recovery in particular.  She's learned that some things that seem like they matter are actually a luxury, not of true importance.  She's discovered that complete strangers will show more concern than some you thought friends.  She's learned to get knocked to her knees by pain and frustration and then struggle back to her feet, dust herself off, and carry on.   When (if?!) she ever feels like herself again, I personally would not want to get in her way as she pursues her academic and athletic goals.  She was mentally tough in many ways before this; now...!

6.  In keeping with #2, the girls have also discovered that, in contrast to their biofather, they can 100% trust and rely on Matthew.  When the going has gotten a little rough this year, Matthew has been a rock for everyone.   He shows his love and support for them in so many unselfish ways with no fanfare.    The girls know without question that our family is Matthew's top priority.  They have never had that feeling from their biofather, or any other male in their lives, before.  That security is priceless.

...that's my why, what's yours?

Don't blink...

Today might be "work a country song into your blog day"...  I can think of a couple, right now.

The first song, of course, is "Don't Blink" by Kenny Chesney.  As in, isn't it crazy/scary/amazing/stunning how quickly something can change in a heartbeat?  One decision, one action, one accident, one misstep, one impulse... or one involving someone else that affects you... each has a ripple effect on our lives.  And a lot of times, we won't ever know the extent of it.

Think about it.  Think about how each choice, even some innocuously minor ones, ripples across your day and future.  For example: the stories of people who, for whatever random reason, were not at their desks or in their offices as they usually would have been on 9-11 when the planes hit; the biofather choosing to take someone else's kids on the "special cruise" in January; Lim laying out to try and make an interception, on the last play of her football career; the 14 year old soccer goalie here in Jax who dove to try and block a shot, on the last play of his... life.  You'll never know if your last second decision to zip into starbucks this morning took you from the spot where the text messaging trucker decided to be at 80mph in rush hour traffic.  Or if it put you there.

Life is filled with a whole lot of seemingly disconnected, even menial, events and activities.  Thoughts.  Choices.  Most times, we do not stop to consider how something will alter our futures.  Most changes are imperceptible.  Unremarkable.  Most of them.

Then there are moments where we blink and the whole world has changed.  Without warning.  Without even knowing it at the time.  I think of my dear friends who are the poster children for not letting adversity change your pursuit of your life goals -- Kevin and Heather.  I doubt either one of them heard dramatic music or saw a shift in the space-time continuum when Kevin noticed blood in his urine.  But, that sliver of time signaled a sea-change in their world.  Amazing. 

The biggest "don't blink" moment in my life, and the lives of the girls, occurred back in September of 2007.  Who knew a simple email, chatting about triathlon, would lead to the most important and positive relationship and blessing of my and the girls' lives.  One impulsive email.  Life altering.  Amazing.

October 31st, 2010.   January 22, 2011.   Two dates where split seconds, without warning, changed everything in our world.

January 22 -- Lim instinctively dives for a juggled ball to try and intercept.  Her teammate comes late (and needlessly, imo) over the top and clocks her behind her left ear.   I didn't catch the hit, but I caught the moment about a half second before hand:

15 minutes before, she had run for what would be her last touchdown:

 

Who knew...?

Don't Blink...

October 31.  The girls, Matthew, me, and biofather meet friends from swimming to trick or treat before the girls are scheduled to go back to his house.  They get in his car to leave and we drive towards Baymeadows.  They call, because someone left something in our truck.  We stop at the neighborhood community center here.  And, for reasons I am still unclear on, they refuse to go with him.

Since that time, they've spent a grand total of eight... 8... EIGHT! days with him at his house.  Four months.  Eight days.  By HIS choice.  Two years ago we were teetering on the edge of a custody battle, with him demanding limitations on their contact with me while at his house, my ability to work or volunteer at their school on "his" days, and all other sorts of crap.  Now, he has skipped, missed, blown off, or ignored (depending on my mood) three straight visitation weekends.  Without a word.

They have not seen him since January 15th other than an ill-fated counseling session.  They do not call or respond to his calls, text or respond to his texts, or have any interest in seeing him.  Christi did speak to him briefly when she accidentally answered her phone when he called one day.  She was too polite to just hang up on him.

All of a sudden, I am a full-time mother...Matthew is a full-time father... our schedules are our own to plan...there is no build up and dread and sadness each week....no stress about keeping a phone on hand to make sure we don't miss a call or text from the girls...no frustration about a week at a time of limited contact and zero parental control...no anger at all the loneliness and wasted time they spent at his house watching tv or playing/reading alone in their rooms...

We can make plans without cross-referencing with the custody schedule.  Now our only frustration is how to fit everything we want to do as a family into 52 weeks a year (assuming Lim returns to something approximating normal anytime soon... otherwise, things get dicey).

We can set, and keep, a family routine ad infinitum.  Sleep habits, eating habits, activities, social stuff, events, trips... all on us, with no interruptions.

I, for one, assume the monster, as in all good horror movies, will rear up one more time from the undead and try to wreak havoc on things... but the girls have, for the most part, moved on already... and it is hard to imagine things ever returning to what they were before October 31st.

One interesting result of this permanent parenthood -- a weird re-organization (deflation? redefinition?) of my triathlon training motivation.  In the past, I busted my butt on the weeks the girls were at the biof's - in part, because I had the time, and in part because I needed an outlet for the emotion (yes, anger was a big part of it).

Now the anger has receeded, and I feel a strong need not to blink lest I miss something as we enter the home stretch of Bim's career as a minor and creep closer to that same spot with Lim.  Bim enters 9th grade and Lim 7th in the fall (well, we ASSUME she will enter 7th, sigh)... how is that possible?!

We've learned a very hard lesson, some of us at a very young age and some of us....not so young... and that is, not to assume or take anything for granted.  Soccer, which Lim loved playing and planned to play again:  gone.  Flag football: gone.  1st Track season:  Gone.  The majority of an entire quarter of a school year: Gone.  Two months of swimming: Gone.  Events with friends:  Gone.  Triathlon and summer swim season: hanging in the balance.  None of us really considered the possibility of one, much less ALL, of those things.

One split second.
 
Perspective:  imperative.  Appreciation: just as much so. 

My triathlon goals and training just seem so... expendable... compared to my role as a mom/coach/cheerleader/counselor/facilitator/disciplinarian/hug dispenser/pillow/keeper of the schedule/perspective provider.    That is not to say it does not matter to me, or that I am not cobbling together SOME form of training, unplanned and unfocused though it may be.  It IS to say that, my legacy to this world, such as it is, will be my children, and how THEY interact with the world and the people around them.  How I do in a race will have very little ripple effect on the world around me.  How I do raising my daughters -- now that... THAT matters.  That will effect people and things in ways I will probably never know.  

My favorite part of the whole thing is teaching them to laugh -- at themselves, at life, at me.  Sounds funny, considering how full of myself, er, deadly serious,  the above paragraph probably sounds, huh  :-)    My personal credo: live with passion and intensity, laugh often and unabashedly, and ALWAYS try to figure out how to be a better person and inspire the people around you to live, laugh, and grow along with you.

and don't, under ANY circumstances, blink.

...that's my why, what's yours? 

It may be a looooooong tunnel.

Yesterday, Lim got to use her brain.  She and her math teacher sat down while the rest of the class was at music, and began going over the concepts she has missed.

By both Lim and her teacher's report, the effort lasted about 15 minutes before the lights flickered and died and the teacher called a halt so Lim could put her head down and rest.  He said he may have pushed her too hard (!) and would back off a little bit next time.  I'm not sure how far you can back off from almost-nothing, but bless him for caring enough to try.

She resembled a pale, blond space cadet with deep dark circles under her big blue eyes when I picked her up after school.   She gave me a confusing account of the math and her efforts, and ended by telling me she could try one of the math homework problems IF she felt up to it.  We did try it, and I encountered my first test of my newly installed "poker face system" as our formerly sharp-as-a-tack, quick study, math-whiz daughter struggled mightily to remember/apply basic concepts and focus on one new one.

After 10 minutes of that, the pale blond space cadet turned into a full-blown zombie (aka Zed, aka the british term for zombies, or so my zombie obsessed husband tells me, lol).  She was in bed by 6:15 and asleep by 6:30. 

This is... challenging...


...that's my why, what's yours?

Proverbial lights and tunnels

So, after 6 weeks of struggling and frustration and complete alteration of our family life and dynamics, we appear to have a plan to progress forward.

Towards what, I really don't know.

Now that the doctors are using words like "adaptation" and "chronic pain" and "retraining" with regard to Lim's ability to become an actively participating member of life, I feel both relief and increased tension.  The former because we actually can start doing something proactive.  The latter because I have no idea how this is going to progress.

Everyone handles pain and challenge differently.  Chronic pain affects demeanor and behavior.  Anyone who has ever had a migraine or any other sort of lasting headache can attest to how disruptive it is to every day concentration, interaction, and enjoyment.

Now have that migraine for months on end, and try to learn math and science and language arts in a noisy classroom with kids who have no idea what you are struggling with and teachers who will do their absolute best to help you but will have to walk a tightrope of pushing enough but not too much.

Never know from moment to moment whether you will be clear headed (relatively speaking) or not.

Be wildly restricted in all your favorite activities because all of your energy needs to go to simply getting through the school day and slowly increasing your actual participation and learning.  Once you do that, add in homework first.  And studying.

THEN, if and when you have anything left over, you can try things you love but that make you feel kind of awful.  Like swimming.  Running.  Reading.  TV.  Music.

And do all that with a positive attitude and without getting frustrated or discouraged, all the while having no idea of when things will get better.  If they do.

And be 11.

Now I, as her Muh THER!! and prime role model, knows all this is coming, and am gearing up as best as I can... (Anyone have any patience pills?  I have a lot at times, but this could tax that supply dramatically)... but it is imperative that I show none of this to her, and just handle it as it comes.  So we, as adults (mostly me, really) will need to ride herd on our OWN frustration and anger/sadness that comes with watching a child struggle and not being able to do a damn thing about it, while simultaneously assuredly bearing the brunt of that child's emotions and struggle.

I'm not sure whether to ask for combat pay or a merit raise.

I am an impatient, want results now, want to know the schedule, want to have control over my life person whose brain spins endlessly over if-then possibilities until it gets answers.  (Sometimes Lim's not the only one with a splitting headache, lol).

But now I need to put a cork in all that and set an example of patience, long term perspective, steady progress towards small goals, and accepting limitations while working to expand them.

I am afraid of letting Lim down.  Of getting impatient.  Of letting my frustration shine through.  Of not being able to walk the fine line of knowing when to push and knowing when to back off and hug.  Of knowing how to offer sympathy and empathy but not coddle.  Of helping Lim take ownership of her progress while still feeling supported and understood.

Maybe being a pillow wasn't the hardest part...?

...that's my why, what's yours?

Touring NE Florida's pediatric neuro specialists...

After struggling to get in to see any sort of specialist we enjoyed a waterfall of appointments this week.  Monday Shands-Jax called to say they could get Lim in to see Dr. Spierre that afternoon (rather than March 21) and we drove to Gainesville for an appointment with UF  Pediatric Neurology yesterday.

I am going to post the summaries I've sent to her teachers and a few friends, rather than recreate the wheel.


    Subject:     Lexi/Mon PM aka "The Plan"
    From:     Sara DiPaolo
    Date:     February 28, 2011 7:09:54 PM EST

Hi --

Today we had an on-very-short notice appointment with UF/Shands Pediatric Neurology rehabilitation specialist Dr. Spierre at 3p.  I am going to keep the UF Gainesville Dept of Neuro appointment, but Dr. Spierre was BY FAR the most useful appointment so far.

As succinctly as I can make it:
We are on the right track with how we are handling her at school.  We should continue to gently seek to expand her presence at and participation in the academics.

More specifically:
1.  No need for neuropsych testing this soon ("all it will show is that she is struggling, which we already know"), so that appt Wed gets changed.
2.  Elavil is fine, but we should add in Tylenol as needed
3. The headache does NOT concern the doctor in so much as it is an annoyance.  Once it crosses over into impairing concentration or is accompanied by dizziness or nausea, cease what she is doing until it subsides.  The doctor said she would only damage her brain more by running into hard objects.  They think.
4. Give her a few more days of being "present" for the entire school day, and then SLOWLY start adding in participation.  I think she was participating some on a very limited and simplistic level in some things today, which seemed to go fine.
5.  The goal is to have her back to full presence AND participation (homework included) with in the next month.  This will probably require both a bit of encouraging Lex to push herself AND knowing when to back off a bit.  You (esteemed teachers) have been around that age child plenty and probably know Lex fairly well; I know her quite well. I trust your judgment and will send feedback if I see anything at home...?
6.  So.... I talked to Lexi and we thought that, if you agree, she'd like to start Thursday to use PE/elec period to try and get up to speed on whatever you want her up to speed on, and start trying to participate in Math especially.  I truly do not think she will (or has) milk things, so hopefully she can provide reliable feedback to help drive the progress.






******

    Subject:     Lexi Tues PM
    From:     Sara DiPaolo
    Date:     March 1, 2011 7:34:54 PM EST
Hi --

We trekked to UF in Gainesville today (withOUT a speeding ticket in Starke, yay me) and met with a pediatric neurologist.   I still think they are making this up as they go...

The good news is, the UF Dr and the Shands Dr from yesterday espoused basically the same philosophy.  The Dr today did a VERY thorough assessment of Lexi physically and cognitively - by far the most thorough yet.  We were in there for close to 90 minutes.  She did some tests that no one has done yet.

She agreed with Dr. Spierre that it is time to start pushing a bit more -- "chronic pain" management and adaptation is how she put it.   She liked the plan we've come up with to reintegrate Lex into functional academia.  She even encouraged Lexi to try some light exercise.  Basically, we seek to expand her tolerance for stimuli.  Something tells me that is going to be just as challenging in its own way as the last 6 weeks have been in theirs.

She believes the headaches "should" end over time.  She also determined that a lot of Lexi's dizziness is associated with altered head position/plane, and we have some actual rehab exercises to start doing for that.  Something about the impact really freaking out the hairs in the ear that contribute to equilibrium (layman's description, lol) and needing to calm them down and retrain them not to spaz out every time she tilts her head. 

This SHOULD conclude our doctor's appointments until after spring break. 

*****

and, my email recommendation to EHS:

    Subject:     Thoughts
    From:     Sara DiPaolo
    Date:     March 1, 2011 7:57:29 PM EST

Hi --

Please feel free to delete this or share it with whomever :-)

I think that there are some things we did right:

I would definitely do the CT scan early, as we did. 
I also would definitely do the lock down for the first two weeks (or until symptoms cleared, whichever came first). 
I think the slow but steady re-integration to being physically present at school is perfect, as is the re-introduction of participation and concentration.

and some things I would do differently:
I would seek to schedule a Pedia Neuro consult immediately and have it set for the end of the second week post-concussion (or beginning of third).  That way, if symptoms resolve, go directly to the re-integration.  If they don't, go to the specialist without a 6 week delay.
I would look into the Elavil and stay on it consistently if headache etc persists past two weeks.
I would also do an MRI towards the end of the 2nd week of symptoms to rule out bleeding or visible brain damage.

I think that we may have been conservative a week or two longer than necessary (because that was what was being drilled into my head by the regular doctors), which is fine, but if we could have avoided two extra weeks of frustration and solitude... 

My overall impression is, be very conservative initially, but at some point the focus turns from healing to rehabilitation and adaptation.  The pedia neuros seem to be best suited to make that decision.  So, I highly recommend obtaining a referral to Shands Gainesville, as they got us in quite quickly compared to the logjam that is Jacksonville's limited pediatric specialists.

For whatever it is worth.


...that's my why, what's yours?