Hope Abounds

I have returned to le blog and will be posting to catch up but first, the book my sister's excellent essay appears in has not only just recently been released, but is already in its third printing!  The timing could not be better. We are living in some ecologically scary times.  The question was asked of these authors, "In a time of environmental crisis, how can we live right now?"  Their answers produced this book.  For me, it not only changed some of my perceptions, but I found it to be a healing balm for the age in which we are now living.

You can check it out at Amazon !  Back soon!

Back Soon

Jimmy Buffett - Trip Around the Sun

Trips Around the Sun

Happy Birthday to my fellow Lionesse, Pamela, my true blue pal I met on the tennis courts at UWF in 1986, found out we had the same birthday and became fast friends. 

Happy Birthday to my father, 93 years young, whose official birthday was August 8.  We had dinner and a cake, a few presents but there shall be extended celebrating this Saturday and we pray there is caramel cake involved.

Happy Birthday to my Aunt Mary Nelle, 91, my father's sister, whose birthday is actually Saturday.  We hope you have a wonderful time where you are celebrating.  We tried to get together with Aunt Mary and my cousin but bad weather pre-empted the drive.

Happy Belated Birthday to my sweet niece, Jennifer, whose birthday was over-shadowed this year by sad events.  Better days are ahead and your family gathers around you in a circle of support and Love.

And Happy Birthday to Me!

Summer's Growing Old

Before long, I will be standing on the curb of our street panting excitedly, a big goofy grin on my face, awaiting the (long-anticipated) arrival of the big yellow school bus.  True to form, however, after Liberty gets on the bus, I will walk back inside and get that empty feeling, look around his room,  give his giant Pooh Bear a squeeze and shed a tear or two.  It never fails.  I am so happy to be getting that child back into a school routine and I know he misses school, too, but at the same time, we have had our summer days where we did not have to get up on time, and sometimes just hung out at home, Lib playing games with toys in all corners of the house and me cooking while I Love Lucy is on, working a jigsaw, transcribing medical notes here and there, doing some reading, short trips to the grocery.   There is something quite lovely about the summer in that respect.  We did miss our beach severely this year; but God willing we will be able to at least go over there again soon (maybe even tomorrow!) --a story for another time.  

Having endured what I have now deemed the "2-martini haircut" today in which my sweet boy morphed into Mr. Hyde's younger brother - hideous kicking, screaming, biting my shoulder;  a full blown tantrum, I would say that I am more than ready for school to begin.
Not once did Robert the Archangel of Hairdressers complain or get upset.  He just said he felt like that this morning before he had his coffee.   He is a GEM of a person. 

And so, eventually, (within about half an hour or so 5 minutes), the empty silence will become the bless-ed, bless-ed silence.   The sacred temple of silence.  

Ahhhhh.  To sigh all of those unsighed sighs...

These days, I crave peace and quiet and time to myself, something I rarely get in the summertime except when we are at the pool and no one is there with an annoying radio, and I can just hang out in nature and watch the lazy clouds slip by and the occasional hawk on the wing.  Liberty learning to swim has been a major gift to me, not only because I know he won't drown in the water, but because I can sit in a chair or swim to the deep end, or you know, just relax, close my eyes,  let the sun bake on my skin for a minute or two.  I have not been able to do this for 7 years.

Speaking of swimming, here is a tip from a blog I just happened upon:  Take equal parts of Epsom salt and warm water and put in spray bottle.  If you cannot get your child in a bath right away, just spray it on the skin.  Simple, but brilliant.  I keep Epsom salts over at my father's house so Lib can get into his bath right after we swim.   But, how nice to have a spray bottle handy, too!  You can make your Epsom salt cream from  here too.  Chlorine can really effect some kids, I know it does Lib, and so it's important to detox it out as much as possible. 

Tomorrow is the birthday of Yours Truly.  My sis from NY flies in on Thursday.  My niece drives over on Friday, and on Saturday there shall be partying.

After the fun has been had, the child launched, and we shift into autumn, in the coming weeks I will report on my son's continuing success with high-potency probiotics, the ongoing tweaking of supplements to give certain things at the appropriate times which about drove me bonkers, and the introduction of curcumin again.  Some exciting things are happening but it's too early for me to spill about it, so stay tuned!

White Sage and Rodney Yee

I have an old Rodney Yee Yoga tape, circa 1998 called, "AM/PM Yoga."  Actally, Patricia Walden instructs the evening yoga part, but Rodney does the morning yoga segment. I have used this for years for stretching my back, and for flexibility.  It does not take much time and he moves you through a series of yoga poses and stretches to wind up in meditation pose.  Plus it is filmed on the beach in Hawaii and Rodney has a flawless beautiful yoga body. What's not to love?

I burn some white sage to clear the area and my mind and put my purple yoga mat and strap on the floor.

This morning, guess who loves the whole deal?  Liberty watched me while he sat in the rocking chair.  He kept putting my hands back in meditation pose when it was over and cried when he thought I was getting up to turn it off.  So, I started it again.  It has his rapt attention right now.  There is a soft singing voice, a harp and Tibetan bells in the background.  He is now lying on my purple yoga mat and just turned the volume up.

Roll Around Heaven

I just had to post about a book I recently read, Roll Around Heaven.  The author is Jessica Maxwell.  This woman is a hilarious writer.  I loved this book.  In fact, I am going to read it again.  It is the story of a woman who had no spiritual beliefs, in fact was turned off to God and religion at an early age, who basically has an incredible spiritual awakening after her father passes away.  It reminds me a lot of things that happened to me when I moved to Virginia in the 1980s when I also had a huge "accidental" spiritual awakening.  I laughed my way through this book.  The interesting thing about Jessica is that she was an adventure writer before she wrote this, traveling to places like Argentina to learn and write about fly fishing or golf or even salmon spawning somewhere.  What a cool profession!   The book is really a chronicle of her many adventures with people she meets but it actually starts off with her conversations with Lory Misel, a pig farmer in Oregon who came to speak to her writing class she was teaching who turns out to be an authentic spiritual master that blew her mind.  She winds up going to his house every Thursday just to talk about God and spiritual matters which she calls "Thursdays with Lory."  Her best friend describes her story as "Lucille Ball trips over God."

Meanwhile, back on the home front, Liberty is doing incredibly well (knocking on wood 3 times).  Finally treating him properly with natural antifungals, probiotics and even possibly a new item, LDN cream (low-dose naltrexone) has really seemed to turn this child around.  He is suddenly doing age-appropriate things and is more present.  And, finally, the constipation that he has suffered with for so long appears to be clearing up.  I have started juicing and also making smoothies just to get some fruits and vegetables in him lately and that seems to be working, too.

So, some good things happening.  We are also gearing up for school starting August 23 but before then, we have lots of birthdays to celebrate:  My father will turn 93 Sunday, his sister and my aunt will be 91 this month and  yours truly will be, well let's just say I am having a birthday, too.  No need to discuss my age before breakfast.  And my sister from NY is coming down, too and that means there will be lots of fun and laughter.  It's Party Time.

Check out the book, you'll be glad you did!

WIPEOUT Liberty's New Favorite Song

Now if we can get him to do this on the drums...

Food as Medicine

I have been grappling with Liberty's symptoms again.  We are still dealing with yeast, can you believe that?  Three years now and it's basically because I did not understand anything about it and no one else did either. I thought you take antifungals, limit sugar and you're done.  But that is not true.   He was put on Diflucan for 5 straight months and as soon as he was taken off, the yeast returned.  His doctor at the time did not do any testing for oxalates which are the byproducts of yeast and content of certain foods.

My new DAN/neurologist performed an OAT test (organic acids test) that showed high arabinose, a byproduct of Candida along with very high oxalates.  Oxalic acid is also a byproduct of yeast.  Oxalates are the things that cause kidney stones.  They are not good to have.  They can circulate through the blood through a leaky gut and cause irritability.  Oxalates can rob calcium from the body.  Great Plains Labs where we get our OAT done has a whole printout on the role of oxalates in autistic symptoms.  So, to get the oxalates down, we were given a list of foods high in oxalates.  But it is not just food that can cause it; as I said it can come from chronic fungal overgrowth. Couple that with inadequate probiotic intake and you have a recipe for misery and ill health.  A stool test my son took at the same time showed he had ZERO Lactobacillus, a friendly probiotic needed for digestion, in his GI tract.

Here is a little bit about oxalates I copied from a great naturopathic website: A significant number of children on the autism spectrum have excessive urine oxalate levels. It is theorized that these oxalate crystals can accumulate in and damage body organs, including the gut, brain, skin, heart, tendons, kidneys, bones, and eyes. Oxalates are also known to bind with heavy metals, forming complexes that may be deposited in body tissues.  Symptoms of oxalate damage include digestive pain, toe walking, eye poking, skin lesions, urinary pain or frequency, bed wetting, and sandy stools.

Lib has had sandy stools, the bed wetting, and I have seen some eye poking, occasionally.  I have seen crying and posturing that looks like his abdomen hurts.  Fungal overgrowth also can cause constipation. 

Last night, I began reading a book I was given at least a year ago.  It is written by a nutritionist and it has some recipes in the back, but I did not pay it much attention.  My track record with dietitians and nutritionists is not very good.  Most of the ones I am familiar with in my own life only focused on calories and not quality of foods.  Judy Converse's book is called Special Needs Kids Eat Right.  And let me tell you, Liberty's problems are all right there on the page.   I cried, thinking that I needed her years ago when this whole damned thing began.  My son stopped eating after all of the vaccinations he was given at 13 months of age.   Lack of nutrition is not good for a developing brain.  I did not know what to do at the time.  Pediatricians were no help here, and they still aren't.  We have one we go to only when I need someone to look in Lib's ears or swab his throat.  Anything I bring up he just brushes away conveniently as "an autism thing."  It feels bad to be swept aside from their radar because they don't know what to do. 

In her book, Judy Converse says that one of the reasons we see supplements work for a little while and then see behaviors and reactions crop up even though they are on the very supplements in which their lab work says they are deficient, is because their guts are not working to begin with.  If there is still dysbiosis, all of the supplements in the world will be of no help.  Some kids have bacterial overgrowth (usually Clostridia or Klebsiella) along with the fungal invasion.  She says that nutrition through food is the key.   Natural antifungals and antibacterials, low oxalate foods, offending allergens, all of that needs to be identified and dealt with first AND to make sure kids are getting adequate nutrition from the food they do eat in the form of enough calories from quality food.

Did I mention that Judy recovered her own child using her knowledge of nutrition?  Her article below is eye-opening.  The things she went through with doctors and the absurd things said to her, well, we can all relate to as parents of children with special needs.  I urge you to read her article below.

I can say that my son's diet is so limited I am sure he is not getting adequate nutrition.  I have focused so long on being careful he is gluten and casein free, even though his allergy tests all came back NEGATIVE, and he does not have a lot he likes to eat anymore.  Many of the gluten-free products are full of fructose and MSG in its many forms (natural flavors, maltodextrin, yeast extract to name a few).    I have no one here monitoring his weight or looking at a growth chart or any of these things.  And, he is so picky.  I know it is a vicious cycle because if I could get a handle on the dysbiosis and get some good nutrition in him, his appetite would increase as his picky behaviors reduce.  I know she is right because I saw this happen for a limited time on prescription antifungals.  But the problem with those, long-term anyway, is that they can make the yeast return with a vengeance when they are stopped and you have to monitor liver function tests.  My son's liver just does not need to be taxed anymore than it already is.  There are plenty of natural antifungals out there to use.

I have begun Liberty on Candex and am adding in natural antifungals like Oregon grape, olive leaf extract, garlic, lomatium, etc.  I will update on the blog how he is doing.  It is trial and error as I find a rhythm with this. Oh, how I wish Judy lived in my town! 

I am thinking of ordering this cookbook when I get some more money.  Another wonderful blogger friend sent me the link to it.

The article by Judy Converse can be read at the link below.  I am going to be looking more and more at my son's diet in the coming days.  I hope this post helps someone because I finally figured out, we cannot just patch our kids up with supplements, and, even though we think our food is depleted nutritionally because of our environment, it STILL is the best medicine as my father always told me.  He should know.  He's a very heathy almost 93-year-old!

Judy Converse's post at Age of Autism

Judy's website

Nature Soothes

It's been rough on us not being able to go to the Gulf and swim in the normally healing waters of ocean and  sound.  I have been so grateful for the pool over at my father's condominium.  Two grandkids have learned to swim in that pool.  The landscape around the pool has changed with past hurricanes.  It used to have so many tall pine trees that there was barely space to walk between them.  Now, they are far and few between but still offer an ample canopy surrounding the pool.  Liberty loves to go fairly often and I have taken to floating on my back in the pool, my neck anchoring me to the side while I gaze up into the azure sky.  How often do we lie on our backs and look at the sky anymore?  Probably rarely.  Well, I have been practicing this sky gazing more and more and I cannot tell you the joy it has brought to me.  The tops of the trees, rich with squirrel nests and large, fat crows frame the view.   The overwhelming vastness of the sky with the almost blindingly-white passing clouds reminds me of the magnificence of my planet on which I ride.  Sometimes you can spy the outline of a tiny jet liner way up tracking silently across the sky.  When it's quiet (in other words, no one comes out with their obnoxious radio), you can hear the knocking of woodpeckers, the cawing of the crows, and the faint rustling of leaves.  Since Liberty learned to swim, it has been like heaven for me.  I can relax in the water now.  I can sit in a chair if I feel like it while he rides his purple noodle like a sea  horse around the pool and regularly rearranges the buoys at the deep water line.  But I am grateful mostly I believe for just the opportunity to be outside every day if we like, to swim in the water if we choose, especially in this heat wave, and to be nurtured by the natural world.  Now, that is a healing balm.

Hints from my darling Heloise

So, okay, I'm NOT a neatnik, nor am I really a total slob, but it was getting ridiculous around here. I have had zero motivation lately and could finally take it no more. I began the time-consuming task of straightening (actually sorting; I figured out that is what most of my life is about, sorting things into categories and them matching them to where they need to go).

I used salt and cheap hair shampoo to clean the bathtub. You cannot believe how great this combination works. And, no noxious odors. I used vinegar and water for all of the mirrors. And hydrogen peroxide for the sinks, toilet and counter tops. I posted something once about the wonders of H2O2 not too long ago when I was looking for an alternative to bleach and found the site Green Living Tips, too.

It is worth posting Heloise's site. She has many recipes for household cleaners using peppermint, lavender and almond oils added to bases of water, vinegar and hydrogen peroxide. Scroll down on the home page to her "Cheap and Green Cleaning Solutions." Click on "Hints" on the left side bar for a million ways to clean everything you own! I don't know why I get such a thrill out of this but I do. I hate the chlorine bleaches and harsh cleaning solutions.

Check out Hints from Heloise here.

This is on the Atlantic side

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

The dangers of CFL light bulbs!

Looking for a Good Place to Move

I just got the inside tract on some information about what me and my family have known but had not been verified by any news station:  The water around here contains five chemicals and is unsafe for anyone to swim.  This comes from a source within a national seashore along the Gulf.

The quality of the air is anyone's guess right now.  All of that oily stuff is decomposing in the intense heat.  A member of my family came home with a headache that lasted all day after being at the beach for 30 minutes on Sunday.  The EPA won't commit to saying anything except that there is more particulate matter in the air.

The news station replies curtly, "If you have a headache, go to the doctor."

The report here is for the tourists:  They will always say it is beautiful, but beware.  As much as I would love to support the economy at the beach, it would be wrong to draw tourists here and put them and  their families in danger.

After working for so long on building my son's immune system, it would be wrong for us to stay in a place with the potential for so much harm.

Anyone know of a great place to live that offers excellent services for children with autism?  Sadly, the time has come to go.

I am officially open to suggestions.

Makes me cry...the Gulf is in my soul

When the coast is clear...

Happy Birthday Liberty!!

Today is my boy's official birthday:  He's 8 years old.   He had a wonderful birthday party this weekend in which the night before at Toys R Us, he chose all of his gifts.  This time, they were age-appropriate!  He wanted Hot Wheels and this was the first time he and his father got to spend time playing with the Hot Wheels track and racing all of his cars.  He also rode a bike all around Toys R Us so we got it for him and are picking it up today!   He was so cute because he knew all of his stuff was in the car.  He stood by the trunk waiting for us to open it.  The next morning the first thing he did was try to get us to go to the trunk and open his gifts.  So, when he was finally able to get them at the party, he was thrilled.

He said, "Hi!" to my niece.  He has been so calm and focused.  Last night he put all of his crayons in his crayon box he loves and brought them to me.  I got a piece of paper out and drew a butterfly on it and he colored on it!  This sounds simple I know but my boy usually stims constantly and takes things like cars and crayons and throws them over his shoulder.  He certainly would not be into playing cars with anyone.

So, what happened?  We started the MB-12 shots recently and saw some new things immediately.  I also am treating yeast chronically with Candex.  He's a carb kid and it is HARD to do the anti-yeast diet for too long, so I just decided to treat the yeast in the background and also changed probiotic strains. And we started LDN (low dose naltrexone) but I have not given that enough to where I think it has made a visible difference yet.

But, I don't know what it is exactly or IF it is anything at all I am doing!

All I know is that my son is so happy and calm and doing such age-appropriate things that I am absolutely amazed and grateful.  I do not have that panicky feeling that I used to have all of the time when he was so much smaller.   Sure, I wish he would talk.  He has some words he says in a very high pitched voice.  I know he knows how to talk and he certainly follows instructions very well now too so I know he has language.

It's very exciting to watch him unfold and blossom after all of the hell we have been through over the last five years.

My heart is full today!

Prayer for the Gulf of Mexico

Hope Beneath Our Feet

My sister and writer, Susan Feathers, is a contributor to this book that is coming out in September and available for pre-order, with authors such as Barbara Kingsolver, Alice Walker and Frances Moore Lappe!  Nothing could be more timely with the oil spill happening here in the Gulf.   Here is one review:

“Wonderfully uplifting and inspiringly diverse perspectives on aligning ourselves with the fullness of our own possibilities as individuals and as a species. The bottom line: flavor and savor every moment, especially the toughest ones, with not-knowing, with good will, imagination, kindness, wisdom, humor, community, and action. My father-in-law, Howard Zinn, said it so well: “Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world.’”

—Jon Kabat-Zinn, author of Full Catastrophe Living and Coming to Our Senses

Order your copy here!

It's that time again

What do I do when I get down, when my world seems shaky underneath my feet, while the oil continues to gush?  I watch Enchanted April again, the healing balm for my soul, while the back of my mind considers the  options. 

Double-Takes

It is hard to tell what has caused such overt changes in the space of one day.   We restarted Liberty's methyl-B12 shots today after being out of them since February.  The shots actually are a combination of the MB12, folinic acid and N-acetyl-cysteine (NAC).   About an hour after receiving the shot, he was extremely reved up which is not unusual to experience on any type of B-12.  Apparently, his body has to get used to this preparation all over again so, I gave him a capsule of a wonderful product called "Zen" (a combination of GABA and L-theanine) I had on hand specifically for side-effects of hyperactivity or jitteriness from the shot.  He calmed down pretty quickly.

And suddenly, after a long period of not being able to listen to music, he sat through the entire CD of Herb Alpert and would not let me turn it off.  He still had his hands over his ears, but he would get up and adjust the volume on the stereo and then go sit back on the couch. I was not allowed in the living room.  After that, he listened to Mozart and Vivaldi on You Tube.  He put 3 Mr. Potato Head dolls together instead of throwing the parts all over the room.  And he brushed his teeth independently like nobody's business.

This is remarkable.  Now, perhaps this change was already coming as I have been seeing some good things but mixed with a lot of mood instability.  For instance, the child has taught himself to swim.  He can swim on his back now like an otter all the while spitting water through his teeth in a long arc.  He can now swim to me fairly fast across the pool.  He can do the side-stroke.  He can balance in all kinds of ways on the swim noodle he would not have a thing to do with last year.  He goes under water and does not care if his face is dripping wet.  I never thought I'd see the day that would happen.  And I can sit in a lounge chair and not worry that my child will drown.

He also understands how to do things I had no idea he was even aware of.  He knows that to get the purified water on the tap you have to turn the PUR filter button a certain way. I never showed him that, nor did I know he was watching.  He knows how to do the laundry after only being shown once or twice.  He is waving hello, good-bye and following instructions usually on only one command.   He knows how the seatbelts in the car work.  He gathers my bag and puts my things in it:  Keys, glasses, hair brush, etc. and gets my shoes.  He gets the bag and knows to put my swimsuit and his in it and our towels and sunscreen.   He brings in groceries.  He washes his hands and throws paper in the trash.

This is not the child who was out to lunch not long ago.

With the intermittent mood swings that seem to come out of nowhere, I am thinking he has probably been having trouble processing supplements and detoxifying.  Methylation is an important pathway that is commonly blocked in our children. 

Somehow the shots had fallen by the wayside.  I think it was when we started his seizure medication.

Today, when we were sitting in a parking lot in the car, I dialed a number on my cell phone  (he hates it when I am on the phone) and he said emphatically, "Mom."

It has just been so hit or miss since I started down the biomedical path with Lib.  Dr. Bock used to tell me that recovery is never a straight line and that has proved true for us.  To see such a profound change in one day I think tells me that these were at least some of the missing ingredients his body needs to function well.  

I look at my almost 8-year-old son's tan little legs with the growing blonde hairs on them and the amount of muscle tone he's gained.  I smile at him and he smiles back at me!  How in the world could we not be on the upward swing now?

Saving the Turtles

Hop on over to D.J. 's blog today for something to feel good about during this oil mess.  She has been commenting on how many of the folks who are helping clean up the beach do not work for BP but they are still being treated as if they do, in other words, badly.  Can you imagine how that must feel?  Especially when they endanger themselves to heat stroke.  These are dedicated people.  Part of the problem is our local news.  They do not report the fact that many of the workers on Pensacola Beach are volunteers.

It is very strange around here.  Finally, the county posted warnings about swimming and stopped looking to the officials at the beach to call the shots.  I am thankful because, even though it is a shame (understatement) that tourists have cancelled their plans to come here, the water is NOT safe whatsoever.  If you are telling pregnant women and kids under 5 to definitely stay out, then it is not safe for anyone.  Someone who blogs here for CNN went to the beach yesterday and briefly dipped an aquarium filter into the water.  When she pulled it out, there was oily mousse, tar balls and other debris COVERING it.  Would you swim in that?

Also, it was not reported that over 400 people who came to the beach when the officials were saying to come on down have reported to health agencies that they feel sicker having come to the beach.

Someone should close the beach, but the EPA is remaining silent. We all find this a little more than suspicoius.

Lenny Kravitz crashes the VOP Choir in New Orleans for "Fly Away" CNN

Pensacola Beach Report

The best update from Pensacola Beach Blog.

Summer Morning

He comes to me, underwear on backwards as usual, no shirt.  It is our typical Florida morning: The sound of the fan running in the kitchen already.  It's so hot outside, we keep the house cooler with fans and not just the AC set so low.  He's all tan and long legs.  He shoves the empty cup in my face, indicating he wants more water so he can go out in the backyard and spit through the space in his teeth in long arcs across the patio.  He is apparently preparing for the Olympics.  I am going to have to get my measuring tape out and see just how far that stream of water travels. I go out to get the mail shielding my eyes from the blinding brightness of the sun.  A biplane drones lazily overhead as I quickstep in my bare feet over the hot pavement to the mailbox.  Suddenly, a very large dragonfly hovers right in front of my nose.  Good morning!  On the way back, I turn on the sprinkler to give my wilting garden a drink.  Back in the AC under the fan I peel cold peaches into a bowl.

Our day begins.

Still Life by Candice Ronesi actually called "Summer Morning"

We weep

Pain

This is an excerpt from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet.  I was playing Library Angel. You know when you stand in front of your books and ask a question and then just randomly open a book? Oh, I thought everybody did that.  Anyway, I had forgotten what a wonderful book this is. I read it when I was 13 or 14 years old. It is worn out and has pencil markings and underlines.  I had what I consider to be a spiritual awakening around that time, and it was one born from pain.

And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain.

And he said:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility:

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen.

And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

Summer Night

Had I not washed the camera in our washing machine, I would have taken some incredible pictures tonight.  Although, probably, they would not have conveyed half the beauty and awe that I experienced tonight.

Liberty is a nature child.  Even in this heat, he loves to be outside.  He wanted me to go swing with him around 8 P.M.  It was still pretty light outside, but I just could not bear any more humidity nor did I feel like getting bit up by mosquitoes and other assortments of flying teeth.

Anyway, I was sitting in my rocking chair and looking through a window in the living room out to our backyard where Lib was happily sitting in his swing.  Then it hit me.

He was looking up.  He was looking at the changing light, the clouds, the sunset burning towards twilight.  He had a look of wonder on his face.  It was so beautiful, his face full of light.  And happy, not pestering me to come swing him.  Just hanging.  The way I used to with my friends on summer nights in Tennessee, lazily lying in the grass, awaiting the entrance of fireflies.  He stayed out there for a little while, sometimes leaning back in the swing, toes up, still looking at the sky, his eyes following arcs of chattering birds. 

He never used to do this.  He would be focused straight ahead, unaware of much going on around him, or at least that was my perception.

I watched the colors change and a brown gray mist fill my living room  as the sinking sun sputtered  its dying light.

Then I went outside and what I saw took my breath away.

There was a bright half moon and several diamond stars against a lavender and dark blue sky with cotton candy clouds backlit by the sunset.  Chimney swifts darted about like boomerangs, looking for a place to bed down for the night.  The katydids were in full symphony with the cicadas, and as Lib waved to me, the bullfrog chorus began.

I was enchanted.

My little boy.  He seems to have fairy dust all about him.

Courthouse News Service

Courthouse News Service

Summertime

Liberty is back in camp as of 8:15 this morning. The first week is always a getting to know you kind of thing, but he was very happy to have some other kids around and a classroom full of new toys. I was encouraged to see balloons, a castle, tents, tons of toys my son loves and a giant playground right out the backdoor.

I came home and dwelt over a cup of coffee. You know what I mean? In the silence, elbows on table, nose in cup, staring out at my backyard.

Yesterday I was watching the end of This Is It - the Michael Jackson movie - on HBO. Lib was playing in the living room. He usually covers his ears lately when he hears music. He heard the deep bass begin for the song "Beat It." His little shoulders started to pump up and down. He stood up and really started going to town, right on beat, those little shoulders pumping harder. It was adorable. The kid was dancing. He has rhythm. He made me turn it up and had me get up and start dancing with him. It's these spontaneous things that give me so much hope.

I love his Spirit.

The time in between school is tough for both me and Lib, though. He needs more structure and it's just hard to get anything done at home, let alone work. We have been living in the pool over at my dad's condos and I have chlorinated hair to prove it!  I look like an aging Gidget.  I am very appreciative of the pool and our little community that has developed over the years. It's so nice to see the "regulars" come back to swim and see how the kids have grown. We discuss everything from weather to politics to recipes. Lately though, we talk about the beach. Most of where we live has been roped off to us in a sense.

Without droning on about the tragedy occurring in the Gulf to our precious wildlife and eventually to the inhabitants I fear, I am going to publish some updates from time to time, especially local ones because really, people need to know what is happening. I will say that some of the most accurate reporting is being done on the ABC nightly news or Good Morning America when they send good old Sam down. I was impressed that he went diving with Philip Cousteau around here so he could report what he saw with his own eyes. That was several weeks ago.

Locally, we are getting the biggest snow job because people want to stay in business at the beach. So, until someone comes out of the ocean covered in tar like the pelicans you see on the tube, the beach is open for business. I mean, if there is a spot that is clear for that moment, they are saying come on down our beaches are open! It's very disorienting and tempting. We want to go so badly. But, there is not one scientist who can tell us that it is safe. And, with Liberty, with all we have been doing to optimize his immune system, why would I chance it now?

It reminds me of the movie Jaws when the town of Amity refused to close the beach!

You can smell petroleum. It burns your eyes and people get headaches. I sent an email to our local TV station just to ask if they have heard anything about health effects. I got a very curt reply, from the weatherman no less, telling me that if I have a headache I should see a doctor and that they certainly were not hiding anything there. I never accused them of such.  So, now I think they ARE hiding something!!  I was simply seeking information, maybe some reassurance or something civil. That email spoke volumes to me. And boy have they been coached. They remind me of used car salesmen the way they advertise the unblemished patch of sand on our coast.

Here is an eye-opening (if not mouth-gaping) article worth reading that was published by an Anchorage newspaper.

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection.

Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.©

Max Ehrmann 1927

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear. - excerpted from The Walrus and the Carpenter, Lewis Carroll

This phrase has been repeating in my mind a lot as the oil along with the frustrated and angry locals spew. Watching white-suited workers try and pick up an assortment of oily, gunky stuff on the beach while millions of gallons still leak, well, it almost seems like futile effort. This thing is too big to get your mind around let alone to predict what will happen.

I have been running for cover, I won't lie. As much as I adore Sam Champion, I am sick of seeing him on our beach. A lot of people here are disoriented about our now uncertain future. I met a woman in the pool today who works for the Better Business Bureau. She said that there are nothing but cancellations on the beach. People are angry because they cannot get a refund on their deposits which are in the thousands of dollars. They apparently signed a contract (in fine print no doubt) that says their money may not be refunded unless the government closes the beach. And that is not about to happen here. That beach is staying open until the last toxic minute. People are talking about ghost towns and of a way of life lost forever.

How about that Kevin Costner, though? God love him. He had to go before congress to get someone to listen and lo and behold BP bought 32 of he and his brother's machines and more to come. Costner spent 24 million dollars of his own money to build these things with his scientist brother. We owe him a huge debt of gratitude.

Liberty has been taking swim lessons every day this week and doing very well. Thank GOD for the pool, our new haven from the "siege" out there as Obama referred to it. Since we cannot do anything about the past and the future is uncertain, we are guided back into taking life one day at a time.

It feels strange to not be able to go to the beach. I tortured myself as I drove to the pool this morning, "What would we be doing if the oil spill had not happened?" We would be heading for the sound side called "Quietwater Beach" early in the morning so we could get to the crystal clear tranquil water unsullied by the crowds, so we could watch the hermit crabs totter around with their hard shells on their backs, to have the little silver fish swim around our ankles, to smell the wonderful aroma of seafood wafting from the boardwalk restaurants and the muted sounds of reggae music, to look over at the stretch of water and sky and sailboat. The puffy white clouds with that little tinge of pink on the bottom, the morning sky like something out of a Maxfield Parrish painting. The look of utter delight on my little son's face.

This is our home. This is why we love it.

Now, it is being destroyed. We are in shock and are mourning. Seeing the oil wash in on Quietwater Beach where Sam was standing just about killed me.

"Now what?" I wrote in my journal this morning. I have no answer yet.

I am past the gung ho stage of trying to do my part to clean it up. Unless you have a Hazmat suit and a gas mask, forget going over there. All I can do is watch the assorted armada move around on the big sea to try and suck up the gunk. And no, I don't think Jimmy Buffet can save us.

Our addiction to fossil fuels is a lot like alcoholism. Until you hit rock bottom, no real change can begin. And, rock bottom always involves hurting a lot of people and losing everything. The good news, I suppose, is that people will turn to alternative sources of energy eventually. New green businesses will spring up. Hopefully, we will look back and see this as the pivotal point in history when we were forced to really begin to embrace alternative and sustainable sources of energy or face ruining our planet.

I will hang onto that hope like a life preserver. Something good MUST come from this now.

Last Day of School and Liberty Report

Liberty's last day of school is today. I am taking him swimming as soon as he gets home after lunchtime. We have had a few leaps forward lately. As always, they come on gradually and are subtle. Words have been popping out spontaneously and he is now doing lots of mimicking and understanding a lot more. I think that the seizures were one of the major complications for Lib. He has been doing beautifully on his medication. He's only been on it since February and has not had one seizure. And, since the time we started the medication, the feedback from his teacher is that he has been making major leaps and bounds since that time.

Last night, my cell phone was going off in my purse. Usually, either Lib hates the sound or ignores it. I said, "Let's get the phone, that could be your Daddy." He got excited and raced to find the phone. He opened it and listened expectantly. He actually tried to talk to his father and blurted out, "Hi!"

This a first!

Constipation is still the bugaboo, but getting better now that I have begun trying him on Liver Life and CytoFlora by BioRay. As I ramp up the dosage, if I see any major improvements I will share that on this site. For now, we are in the early stages. These products have apparently helped a lot of children on the spectrum, and a very nice pokesperson is always available to ask questions - a mom with a child on the spectrum herself. It's kind of exciting. We also have an appointment tomorrow with our neuro doc that has been put off since my sister's ordeal.

And a summerful of swim lessons, camp, and fun at grandad's house.

I am planting okra in my garden today (whoo hoo) and sending prayers to our Mother Earth as I dig my hands in the soil. A very dear friend of mine used to send me to her garden to pull weeds when I became anxious and it was the best therapy. The gulf issues go on and on. I decided I would find a place and activities to raise my energy and not fret, so for now, looks like it's the garden and the pool! Not a bad combo.

Happy Summer.

Jimmy Buffet has bought a hotel on Pensacola Beach, which will be the first ever Margaritaville Hotel. Having grown up in Florida, Buffet's music was the backdrop of my young years, loving his albums, A1A and Living and Dying in 3/4 Time. A lot of people cannot relate to Parrot Heads but believe me, if you have grown up around here like I have, his music is as familiar and comforting as the blood running through your veins. You cannot sit atop the white, sugary sands of Pensacola Beach and look out at that beautiful emerald green and Caribbean blue water and not hum, "Mother, mother Ocean, I have heard you call..."

But, I wondered about the timing of purchasing this property. Either it will really help the economy here, or it was a stupid move on his part. We won't know until it all plays out.

I am talking, of course, about the enormous gulf oil spill. The oil reached our shores a few days ago. Each morning we watch the "Gulf Oil Tracker" on our local morning news. You've probably already seen Sam Champion from Good Morning America here and CNN. In fact, my sister and I went yesterday to the beach to check things out. The beaches are still beautiful. Many people were out, but there were not too many in the water. Our beaches are still open but awaiting the Coast Guard to close them. Small groups (very small, maybe 4 people?) in suits and gloves, BP employees apparently, were picking up debris (which included a dead, oil-soaked pelican). It just seemed strange as all around them people played and business at the beach went on as usual.

We stopped to eat lunch at a picnic table just outside of the Gulf Island National Seashore on Fort Pickens. Lib was just dying to go into the water. He feels the pull of the ocean and he loves it so. I only let him play in the water a little bit. Then, my sister said she smelled petroleum. We left to go to the museum at Fort Pickens and when I was wiping the sand off of Liberty, there was a trace of oil staining his foot! Apparently, the oil is beneath the sand.

I keep telling myself that there are always new beginnings in endings.

Endings are on the minds of all of us who live along this beautiful Gulf coast. Did you know that 40% of the world's seafood comes out of the Gulf? Did you also know there are 4600 oil rigs and platforms in the Gulf? So many people are more concerned about the economy than the wildlife. They don't seem to understand that on top of lost jobs, of a loss of a way of life, indeed an end of an era that is happening right before our eyes, the food chain is being broken. If the plankton die, so does everything else. If the oil kills our coral reefs, the seabed nurseries of so much life, then nothing can survive. Will the Gulf become a dead sea? This is what we mean my catastrophe of worldwide proportions. When the oil first began gushing, no one here was talking this way because it had not shown up yet. Even the local newscasters were very careful (instructed?) to make sure they re-iterated emphatically that our beaches were still open for business. "No oil on our shores!," they boasted. And of course, BP had given businesses in Florida millions to advertise this fact and try to help the beach businesses prevent loss of sales.

I recall in many apocalyptic predictions of the sea turning red. Well, the oil sheen turns the water red. Is this the end of times?

I really do not believe in the end of the world, literally. But, perhaps this event heralds the end of the world as we now know it. And it's high time. I believe we are in the dawn of a new age, Earth II. We have got to acknowledge our relationship with nature and work with Her if we are to survive.

It would be very easy to become depressed and believe me there is a lot of that around here as you might imagine. But my sister and I were discussing this yesterday. I do not want to put my focus on what has already happened - I cannot do anything about that. The best use of my energy then would be to focus on where I can be of help. I want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem. I am not sure where to focus my energy yet, but I am trying to think positively, hoping a path will open up. Since the oil is still gushing, it really is anybody's guess where we will be by August.

Please see my sister Susan's blog for some really great pictures and articles on what is happening here. All we can do is photograph it and let others know what is happening so we do not allow this to ever happen again. If we don't change now, then we are surely lost.

Will people come to Jimmy's place just to see the last of the Great Gulf? Will we be able to breathe the air when we do? If anything, maybe having Jimmy's place can help us forget our troubles for a little while and maybe also to remember what we have and appreciate it and be proactive. You can read what he said here as he walked with Governor Crist on our beach on Saturday. I wish I had not missed it.

In the meantime instead of feeling helpless, I got this visualization from Adam Dreamhealer. I think I will use it. I am setting up an alter on my fireplace mantle. I have my shells around me, my pictures, the treasures this place has brought us.

Please pray for us. Pray for the Gulf. It affects the entire world. Don't become desensitized to what is happening by the television. We do need a miracle right now. Let's all put our hearts and minds there. Please include the great Gulf of Mexico and all of its magnificent creatures and people who live and work here in your daily prayers and meditation. Mind is non local, it has no boundary of skin. What you think and feel does affect the world.

Signs

Thursday marked exactly one month since my sister passed away. To say that it seems unreal is an understatement. And, as so often is the pattern of grieving, we cannot remember where we put things, simple tasks take twice as long to do as before. We often make no sense when we speak. We find we are fuzzy-brained. The members of my family seek out ways to laugh when we can and find comfort in each other's presence. Personally, I am watching Everybody Loves Raymond the way I used to watch I Love Lucy. I cannot miss an episode. We swim in the pool a lot. Have lunch together. Cook. Read. I am probably doing a jigsaw puzzle a week, a place to rest my mind.

At about the 2-week mark of my sister's passing, my sister Susan and I received a rash of signs from her.

One morning, I got into my car to go to the library. I had cleaned out a dresser drawer about a week before this and found some cassette tapes. I thought they were some old music cassettes and my car actually has a cassette player underneath the CD, so when I found the tapes, I just put them in my purse, so I would not forget to check them out in the player in the car. So, I was digging for my keys and saw the tapes. I put the first one in as I was traveling down the road and sure enough it was an old music tape I had taped over with some other nonsense for some reason. It was basically trash. I pulled the next one out and did not hear anything. I was about to eject it when I heard a beep. Then, I heard someone saying something, - they were leaving a message. Turns out it was a tape from my ancient answering machine back when I actually had one with a removable cassette tape! I loved that thing but it go so old, I had to finally succumb to voicemail.

There were some bill collectors on there, my husband, my father, and lots of long pauses, and then...I heard it. My sister Beverly's voice. She said, "Hey Kath, it's Bev! I did find Liberty's picture at my house after all it wasn't at Dad's. Okay, sweetie, talk to you later!" I just about had a wreck. Keep in mind I had not heard her voice since she had the breathing tube and tracheotomy.

I crept the rest of the way to the library in my car. My sister and I loved to read and exchanged books all of the time. She turned me on to some great authors and got me back into reading at a time when I really needed the distraction with all of Liberty's issues going on. It was and still is a way to de-stress. So, through my tears, I told her hello and wondered if she was really back to give us some signs, and of course, asked her to give me more signs, to let me know it was really her and not just in my "head."

Now I have to stop here in the middle of the story to tell you that the previous day my other sister Susan and I were sitting around the pool and a very large black bird was walking around staring at us. I remarked that there had also been one at my house, very shiny, not a crow, and my father said it was a raven. My sister made the comment that ravens are said to house the souls of people who have passed on.

Now back to the story: I walked into the library, beginning to browse at "A" like I always do and I look down and my eyes fall on a book. The author is "Jo Beverly" and the title is "St. Raven." Chills ran up and down my arms.

I walked down the aisles kind of amazed and dazed and remembered to check out an aisle for yoga books before I left and there was a book sticking out about to fall off the shelf. It was a book by Eckert Tolle. My sister loved him.

That same day, my sister Susan got a letter in the mail from a woman who is in charge of Beverly's memorial scholarship fund we set up at the university. I don't want to print her full name but suffice it to say her last name was ... you guessed it, "Beverly."

If that wasn't enough, the next day, I turned on the TV to a Christian station, one I never have the channel set to, and find a program is just beginning and the name flashes across the screen: "Beverly Exercise" and I hear the announcer say, "...with your host, Beverly!"

Good God, this was really exciting and eerie at the same time. I yelled, "Hi Bev!" I was not completely surprised though. My mother did the same kind of thing, too, about 2 weeks after she passed away, giving me all sorts of unmistakable and amazing signs all in one day. I drew so much comfort from those and still do.

Later, my sister and I compared notes. Apparently she had felt her presence and received the same type of message I did and that was pretty much that not only was it great not to have a body, but that it was a relief to not have the body worry our society has, constantly putting the focus on our looks. She gave us a few more personal messages and, since that day, I have not felt her anymore.

We miss her.

In Memoriam

My eldest sister, Beverly, passed away in a room marked "23" on April 27 after spending 47 days in the ICU. She was 66 years old. She had an infection in her mitral valve which had to be replaced but before they discovered this, her lungs stopped working and she had to have a balloon catheter placed in an artery and was put on mechanical ventilation. She had a fever and Strep infection in her blood from the valve and was on massive amounts of antibiotics to even get prepped for surgery. After one week of antibiotics and being flat on her back on the vent, she underwent a mitral valve replacement with only a 50/50 chance of survival. She had an abscess in her valve and they could only take out so much of the infection without putting a hole in her heart. So, they replaced the valve, and kept her on antibiotics after surgery and just prayed the infection would resolve. It did. But, her lungs would not be strong enough to get off the vent. She had no blood pressure on her own and was on dopamine pressors. One night she pulled her tube out of her nose and coded but was shocked back to sinus rhythm. Another day along the way, we were told to call the family, but she rallied the very next day and after 2 weeks on the vent, they were able to put in a trach tube. I remember when she had the trach placed and got that God-awful vent tube out of her throat. She was smiling and blowing kisses to me. She could mouth, "I love you." Then they realized they put the wrong size trach tube in and she began bleeding from her throat. She had to go back to surgery to have it replaced. We began learning how to read her lips. I got her a white board and, with her glasses, she was able to write messages to us for awhile. But, she was shaking a lot. Some days her cognition was great and she was all there. Other days she was drugged and we could not read a thing she wrote, drawing nothing but squiggly lines. My sister from NY came down and she had put together a photo album that my sister just cherished! Shortly after that, her kidneys began to fail. She had so much fluid her body was bloated and the fluid wept through her skin, soaking the sheets. I would hold her hand and leave huge indentations in her flesh. She had bruises all over her legs and arms. Tubes, lines everywhere. Beeping machines, the blood pressure cuff going off constantly. She underwent dialysis 3 days a week but soon began to not tolerate it. Each time she began to be dialyzed her blood pressure would plummet. She had chest tubes put in to get the fluid out of her lungs. They wanted to replace the nasogastric tube with a stomach tube, but she could not be optimized for surgery. Bev had low platelets, a result of MDS (myelodisplastic syndrome) a blood disorder she had developed a few years earlier. She also had chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and smoked which made it so hard for her to breathe. The turning point came when the dialysis port became infected and she had sepsis. Finally, her liver began to fail. One day, she asked us to let her go. She told us she was hurting. When we asked her when, she said, "Now." None of us were prepared for this. So, after papers were signed, the drips were turned off and the ventilator too. She breathed on her own for awhile. But, after about the fourth hour, her body shut down and she died. I was holding her hand. My sister and her daughter and I were the ones who were with her until the end, though going through a myriad of emotions, we were devoted to helping shepherd her soul to the other side. Her nurse, Tony, our angel, told her she would go to sleep and wake up in a beautiful place. He prepared her by having talks with her about it and then guided us through the whole process in which a room no one ever wants to find themselves in - a sterile, anxious, and sometimes hostile place - was transformed for just a few hours in time into a sacred and holy space.

Through all of this, Liberty has fared well, thank God. Beverly was Liberty's biggest advocate, the one who went with me to every IEP. She was her county's first ESE teacher! She went to bat for people with disabilities and she knew how to get things done. One of her colleagues has offered to go with me to the IEP which happens to be today. Liberty will be changing schools next year.

So much change.

I still cannot believe Bev is gone, that it happened at all, that there was even a memorial service. I know how grief is, it is like a trickster, just when you feel yourself standing on solid ground, a memory flashes back or a realization comes that brings you to your knees. There is no way around it but through. I was with my mom when she passed, too, holding her hand - but she had been in a coma for days, the end result of a long and winding road called cancer. Somehow with Bev, it was different. She was awake, coherent - I still relive it all and probably will for some time. She never closed her eyes and that was a kind of hell for us all.

Now, in the background of all of this the Gulf oil spill looms. Our beautiful beaches, way of life, economy, you name it - all hangs in the balance. The news here is surreal. One commercial commands that if you find stranded animals covered in oil, do not try to help, call their agency right away. Another advertises Dawn dish liquid and shows geese getting soaped up and bathed. "Tough on grease...easy on geese?" It's so sick! Then there were the waiters and waitresses at the beach restaurant crying that they are losing their jobs; the beach being flooded with people last weekend, taking samples of the pristine white sand that is in danger of being tarnished forever. Well, maybe not forever, but for at least 100 years or so. And, if the oil get into the marshes, which you know it will, it will never be gone. This is so much bigger than the Exxon-Valdez. And, you know what? Even scientists and officials at the public meetings won't speculate or tell the truth. They are afraid to tell the people who live and work on the beach that the biggest catastrophe to ever hit our oceans has been going on now for weeks. I suppose it will become apparent with time.

And yet I have been praying. We watch the daily reports of the whereabouts of the big blob on the map and actually breathe a sigh of relief that it has not hit here, though they say when the wind shifts, it is inevitable. It is like bracing for a hurricane that is always on its way, just about to strike. It has already begun to affect New Orleans. I keep hoping that there will be something that saves us somehow. I hope that I am not writing an epitaph for our home. If even the breeze becomes toxic, then we will be moving.

For now, I write, I work, I eat, I put on my clothes, I feed my birds, I bake my bread, I just take it moment by moment. Which I was supposed to be learning how to do all along. This is always the message, isn't it, when there is loss? To take one day at a time, moment by moment, and savor what you can from your time here.

The Way I See It

Temple Grandin has a new book called, "The Way I See It." This is her website. I read some of the reviews on Amazon and I think I do want to read it. I used to think that Asperger's was so different from ASD because the folks with Asperger's are high functioning. BUT, I think that people on the spectrum do share some traits like sensitivity to their environment and perhaps thinking in pictures. At least, that is the way I am beginning to understand it from the little bits and pieces I have read from Dr. Grandin in the last few years. Let me know if you've read this book or her other one, "Thinking in Pictures". I cannot believe I have not even read that one. Here is something she wrote explaining this process.

Just sharing. Back later. Liberty is doing very well on his seizure medications - there have been no more witnessed seizures and he has picked up using pictures, saying parts of words. I am in process of planning his summer which will definitely involve swim lessons again, perhaps some horseback riding if we are fortunate enough to get into the program, and (PRAY) an ABA therapist coming to our house?!

2 Weeks and "Counting"

Lib has been on his medications now for 2 weeks. Yesterday, the teacher told me that he picked out his NUMBERS by verbal command only! He cut out numbers using regular scissors and matched them perfectly. He is now pointing on a regular basis.

He is 7 years old and it looks like he is in the process of catching up.

Not only that, we are seeing more connectedness, more eye contact, more awareness. I am so glad we made the choice to medicate. I would say if you can stop absence seizures naturally, by all means do it, because medications are not a magic bullet either. Drugs are the last things I really wanted to put my son on. However, he is on such a small dose and, if it can make such a big difference, then to be honest, it has brought me great relief. The seizures just got scarier looking.

He was having seizures for so long as we tried various things in different combinations: Taurine, melatonin, DMG, milk thistle, GABA, B6/magnesium, etc. The seizures just kept coming more regularly and faster, too. Seems so many things that were supposed to work had the opposite effect in my son.

Since starting the medication, I have synchronously run into people who tell me their story about their child or their sister or their friend who had absence seizures as a child, took medication, and eventually grew out of them, so I can see that I am receiving lots of reassurance about my decision.

And, my son is happy. He no longer naps every day when he comes home from school. He is using so many pictures to communicate it's hard to keep up. He's trying to get words out.

For Liberty, at least, this seems to be perhaps one major piece of the puzzle found.