Thursday, July 28, 2011

Apples of God

The grocery store clerk leaned forward, voice lowered, eyes narrowed.  "Is it . . . religious?" she asked when I answered her query of how many children I had (six).

 This was my Big Chance to evangelize, to speak of the beauty of the Catholic Church's teachings on marriage and family.  I had to be short, sweet, smart.   If I said Yes, she'd think we had a large family because we had to.  No wasn't exactly right, either.  How to answer?  And quickly. . .

"Yes, and we LOVE it!"  I sang out with a smile, hoping it was Good Enough.

She jerked back, eyes widened now.  "Oh.  Well THAT'S good." 

I pushed my luck while punching PIN numbers as slowly as I dared and continued : "We converted to the Catholic Church a few years ago.  Best decision we ever made."

Her eyes widened even further as she gasped, "People become Catholic on purpose?"

I grinned again, nodding, pushed my luck yet again and suggested she check out the Catechism of the Catholic Church instead of things written about the Church.  Her face back to normal, she looked thoughtful and smiled pleasantly.  "No kidding," she murmured.

I stuffed my receipt into my purse and proceeded to navigate the full cart whose edges were covered with hanging monkey children out of line.  "See you around!" I tossed over my shoulder.  Ours is a small town ; I hope I will.

My word-perfect, KJV past came to me while driving home :

"A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a picture of silver."  Proverbs 25:11

Yes, Lord, may my words be apples of gold.  Amen.

Warmly,
Allison

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Slainte*

Pills are an inescapable fact of life with CF : handfuls of capsules, tablets, and geltabs of multi colors and shapes precede every meal or snack.  One of Rees' claims to fame was his ability to swallow  enzymes just before his second birthday ~ no more sprinkling the capsule contents onto applesauce.  No more teary tantrums over eating that grainy applesauce before any other bite.  Halleluia!

He interrupted my typing here a minute ago, smugly adding that his record is now swallowing fourteen at once.  Showoff.

However, pills are more thorny now, in these teenage years, than in those troublesome toddler months.  He hates them.  He has attempted to cease Prevacid, but the 2400 mg of Motrin daily aggravate the stomach.  Dropping both is unacceptable because the high dosage of Motrin keeps lung inflammation down.  Culturelle helps with good gut bacteria, even with oral  (another pill) and inhaled antibiotics.  Extra fat soluable vitamins are necessary, because a person simply cannot get enough A, D, E, and K from food sources.

Every few days or so, I hear him banging and bashing around in the kitchen cabinets and I know that he's resenting the gathering and ingesting of fourteen pills before eating.  I don't know how he did pills at ACYC ~ with an audience?  Secretly?  Occasionally I wonder how he'll care for himself when he leaves home.  Then I shudder and pour myself a nice glass of red wine. . .

But care for himself he must.  And pills will always be present.  While my heart breaks at his angst, I am grateful for the technology that enables him to lead a good life.  Pills and all.


*Slainte!  (Which means, according to my Uncle Tom who lives in Ireland half the year, "Bright Health") ,
Allison

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Evening Snack

For a bit of shocking reality, here is the evening snack Rees just carted into the den after completing his lung chores*  :

A quart of mocha shake
A bowl of Ramen noodles
Two Snickers bars
A bowl of potato chips


*Lung chores consist of Pulmozyme and TOBI inhaled with a compressor, albuterol and Flovent inhaled with a spacer, and a couple of rounds with his Flutter valve.


And because it's gorgeous and amazing, here's his backpack at the top of Lazy Mountain this morning, which he and John have hiked once a week for the past month.  They are proud to announce that their time up was 1 hour 10 minutes ; and their time down was 31 minutes!

Top of Lazy Mountain


Hungry and tired just writing about it,
Allison