Swirlies, and Other Nerd Phenomenon

Here it is!  Luke's big appointment!  I'm sorry to just now be blogging about this when the appointment was Friday.  It's been pretty busy around here (when is it not?).  Trust me, however, this is worth the wait.  And this will be my point of view, so it may seem that Mark didn't say much or play an active role here... but he did.  This, like I said, is just my account.

We were blessed to see Dr. Ron Clements.  Have you heard of him?  You will.  He's very good at what he does.  It's encouraging to see someone doing what they so obviously were meant to be doing.  He is a young man, full of joy, and shows energy and interest in the child he is working with.  Mark and I liked him immediately.

We were ushered into his office and asked to sit on the cushy furniture.  Luke was still for just a second.  He picks up on the energy in a room and runs with it.  If it's a sad place, he will literally crawl up into a ball and cry.  If it's a happy place, he will dance and be silly.  In Dr. Clements' office, he sat down, stood up, sat down, stood back up and then walked over to Dr. Clements and gave him a hug.  Dr. Clements smiled, hugged him back, and said, "Yeah!  I like you, Luke.  Thanks so much for the hug!"  Luke responded with, "You're welcome.  I like all three of your paintings."  I realized how random this was, but Dr. Clements didn't miss a beat.  He looked around his office as if he was also a newcomer here and said, "There are in fact three paintings.  Yes.  They're kinda nice."  I thought, "Oh my word.  There's two of them!  Dr. Clements is a Luke!"  :)

Dr. C smiled the entire visit.  It wasn't a creepy smile.  It wasn't a fake smile.  It was part of the man.  He truly is full of joy.  He began the "official" visit with, "Luke, I see you've brought some interesting people with you today.  Do you know them or did they just follow you in?"

Luke said, "Yes, [giggle] that's my mom and that's my dad."  (for the rest of the visit, we were "mom" and "dad" to Dr. C, even though we'd already shaken hands and offered first names all around...he introduced himself as Ron.)  Dr. C continued to address only Luke for the next little while.  He would say, "Luke, I'd like to ask you some questions.  Is that okay?  And is it okay if Mom and Dad jump in with anything at anytime?"

Luke had yet to sit back down and was instead inspecting everything in the office [I told him to sit down but "Ron" said, "He's okay, Mom.  Or...whatever your rules are.  But he's fine"].  He answered every question clearly...but rarely was he still while he did it.  It's no wonder every doctor always goes straight to ADD...except Dr. C.  He seemed instinctively to recognize an inquisitive soul and allowed Luke to roam and touch and look and learn to his heart's content.  Dr. C himself was quite the multi-tasker.  He sat on an exercise ball at a small desk with a laptop (that he was actively using) and held a pen and several papers (we realized in time that these were all the different reports from all the doctors we'd visited thus far).  Here's the cool part.  I never once felt he wasn't paying attention to all three of us.  In fact, quite the opposite.  I was distinctly aware of the fact that he was taking in far more than our words.  Our body language, facial expressions, hand gestures, and silent looks did not escape his keen eye.

At one point, I had the chance to let my eyes wander along his "victory" wall...that place where doctors display their diploma and medical license.  I didn't have the chance however to read every single degree.  Too many.  They were also, I noticed, not ostentatiously framed.  Just hung mater-of-factly as a part of the office décor.  I thought maybe he hung them to prove that, as young as he is, he really does have the credentials to do what he's doing.  And, perhaps I should qualify "young".  Because I get older, "younger" gets older too.  He was probably mid-forties.  I guess with all the hype we'd heard about him, I just assumed he was an older man who had been doing this for ages and ages. 

Good grief, I'm sorry...this blog is turning into a saga.  I'll get to the fun part and be done.

Luke's super smart.  That's it in a nutshell.  Yes, we knew that.  But, now we know it from a super-credentialed doctor.  So there.  Ha.  But how does that help us?  Well, that's kind of what Dr. C asked us.  He finally said, "What brought you to me?  Why are we here?"  We explained that our son (who was now riding the exercise bike in the corner, pressing buttons, laughing to himself, and gaining Dr. C's full approval and affection) was a sad little boy.  It was an ironic moment.  I started to reiterate his sadness but Dr. C said, "I get it.  Depression.  Anxiety."  I thought, "But he's not acting that way right now...so are you just going to take our word for it?"

So I asked him, "He's not acting that way right now so are you just taking our word for it?" (I pretty much say what I think most of the time)  Dr. C smiled (and by the way, he has a thousand smiles.  They all communicate something... "I know", "that's funny", "you're cute", "I like you", "this is enjoyable", "everything's going to be fine", "I know you didn't mean that but I totally understand what you meant"........).  He said, "I get it."  And I knew that he did.

Out of nowhere, Dr. C asked, "So which side is his swirly on?"  Excuse me?  His....swirly??  It took me a second but I looked at Luke and saw that, as normal, his hair was sticking straight up everywhere.  I'm quite used to this.  And I'm used to other people's comments about it.  But I was not expecting this renowned doctor to ask about it...and say "swirly".  I said, "Uh, swirly, um...on his, let's see, his left...wait, his....I'm sorry.  I don't know."  I got Luke off the bike and examined him.  I felt that, as his mother, I should know this!  Who doesn't know where their son's swirly is?!  Wait.  Who DOES?  So, I shoved Luke to Dr. C and said, "Here.  You find it."

He said, "Okay," and dove into Luke's hair with enthusiasm.  It was strangely comical.  It also was so unlike anything I'd been expecting that I found myself holding back hysterical laughter.  Well, he looked.  And then he looked some more.  Then, I had to make Luke stand still longer because he looked again!  What was this about?!

He let go of Luke, sat down on his bouncy-ball and began typing, writing, looking at all of us at the same time.  And smiling.  I said, "What does this mean?"

He stopped.  I mean, if you thought you would be disturbed by all of his activity, I assure you that his stillness was more disturbing.  He rubbed his face and looked around his office as if searching for an answer.  I thought, "Great.  Our son has...swirly-head?"  (That "Simpson's episode ran through my head where Homer goes to the doctor and doctor examines his head and says, "I'm sorry, Homer, but you have....Homer Simpson Head" and Homer yells, "WHY ME?!")

I said, "You can tell us.  What?  WHAT?"

He realized he was keeping us on the edge of our seat...I think he might've forgotten for a second that we were still in the room.  He said, "No, no, no, it's....it's....well, back a long time ago before MRI machines and other instruments giving us accuracy, we used to look at a person's swirly to see if they were truly left-brained or right-brained.  I was interested because Luke's left handed but he took a bite of that cracker with his right hand."  !!!  We're here for Luke's depression, and the guy's playing around with hair and old philosophy?

He continued.  "It's extremely rare.  I mean, we read about it and know it's possible but it almost never happens and I've never seen it.  Luke has two swirlies.  One on each side."  (This confirms what I've always known about it being impossible to tame his hair)

Mark said, "Oh, cool.  So, he's ambidextrous?" 

Dr. C said, "That's possible.  But what it really means is that Luke is able to think equally with his left and right brain.  Simultaneously and also with equal strength.  It's...it's just so rare.  Only two or three people ever...this is just so rare."  And it confirmed why, on Luke's IQ test, he was a 145 across the board.  (at least.  remember, he didn't finish the test)

We got Luke a very mild anti-depressant and are on day 3 with it (no side-affects!).  But I must say that Dr. C's examination of Luke's head and his revelation of Luke's odd ability to think with his full brain was the highlight of the visit.  For Dr. C too.  He shook our hands and said, "Mom, keep a Luke journal.  He's going to amaze you.  And remember me when he's famous!"  And he smiled.

And we smiled too.  And I don't think we've stopped smiling since.  :)

You're Not The Man I Married (or, I Don't Even Know You Anymore)

When Mark and I were dating, we were different people.  Not just different from each other, but different from who we are now.  I think this is probably the way it most commonly happens.  The frustration is thinking that it SHOULDN'T happen.  How many times have you, or someone you know, said, "My husband is just not the same as when we got married."  What about, "I don't really know him anymore."  And my LEAST favorite, "We're just not in love anymore."

I am so sorry no one prepared you for this.  I am so sorry that you were allowed to commit yourself in marriage with the belief that you were playing in some Disney movie or Harlequin romance.  I don't think it's everyone else's responsibility to clue you in on this, but it does help if they do.  In case they didn't and you find yourself now faced with a marriage relationship that not only falls short of your dreams, but also leaves you feeling claustrophobic and itching for the door, I just want to assure you that you're normal.  This is a phase.  It WILL pass.  It will.  The question is not whether or not it will pass, it is whether or not you will hang in there until it does.  I hope you do.

Let me get back to Mark and me.  When Mark and I were dating, I had a strange way of being emotionally strong.  If Mark had doubts about our relationship, I would smile, assure I him I had no doubts, and say, "If you want to break up with me, then that's fine.  Call me when you change your mind."  He was always immediately comforted and we would stay together or be back together in no time.

After we were married, this was not the case.  For some reason unknown to the both of us, I became an emotional wreck!  In fact it was on our honeymoon that I first showed signs of emotional weakness.  I threw a fit (a tantrum!) for some reason I can't even remember now and I remember the look on Mark's face...it clearly said, "What in the WORLD have I gotten myself into?!"  I remember this lasting for a few weeks until we took action.  I saw a doctor and was prescribed anti-anxiety medication.

Now those of you who follow my soap-opera-life know that I am a survivor of childhood trauma.  What was happening in those early weeks of marriage was my coping skills in action; I had encountered a trigger and was losing my cool.  I didn't know this at the time, however, and was so confused as to what in the world was wrong with me.  I got mad at every little thing and even at things that didn't exist!

This went on for the next five years.  Several different medications, two children, three surgeries, and five houses later, things started mellowing out.  Yes.  It went on for that long.  And Mark hung in there.  Ladies and gentlemen, although this does not describe my shining moment in this marriage (I'm still waiting for that moment to happen), it is the truth.  I believe in truth as a healing factor in all our lives so I'm sharing this WITH you, FOR you.

During my bouts with anxiety, depression, anger, and all-around ickiness, I called Mark names, yelled for no reason, left (never was gone for more than 10 minutes), yelled some more, blamed, accused, embarrassed, ignored, and sorely hurt my husband.  There were happy moments but they were short lived.  In all honesty I don't remember a lot of what went on.  It was a cloudy, gray, low time for me.  It was even more awful for Mark I'm sure.  He had married me.  He was stuck with me.

In today's society, people have divorced for much less than a depressed and angry spouse.  Mark would've been accepted and even pat on the back for leaving me, I'm sure.  And I deserved to be left.  I deserved to be committed to an institution.  He stayed anyway.

But, listen to this...he more than stayed.  I'm going to say that again.  He more than stayed.  He loved me.  He may not have FELT loving toward me, but he loved me.  He decided every morning to remain committed to the promise he'd made to me before God to love me in sickness and in health, for better or worse.  This was surely sick and worse.  When I say he loved me, I don't mean he spoke lovingly to me, held me, told me it was all okay....that came, but much later.

The first thing he did by loving me was to remain my husband.  He never once threatened to leave me.  In fact, in the middle of one of my tirades, I remember him saying, "I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!"  I realize now that he wasn't talking to me really.  I believe he was yelling this for his own benefit.  He was re-committing.  Because sometimes we have to do that...re-commit.  He was telling himself that he wasn't leaving because perhaps he'd just needed to re-decide that at that moment.  It ALWAYS helped me.  Always.  Even if I yelled back, "WHY NOT?!  I WANT YOU TO!" (which I probably did) He wouldn't leave.

The second thing he did by loving me was to pray for me.  He prayed for himself, probably minute by minute, but I know for a fact he prayed for me.  I remember once waking to the sound of his voice.  We'd had a nasty argument (well, is it an argument if only one person is screaming and the other is just sitting silently?) and I'd stomped off to bed.  Anyway, I woke up to Mark's whispering in my ear.  He hadn't intended to wake me and I never told him he did.  He was saying, "And, Lord, please ease her pain.  Please give her peace.  Please heal her.  Please let her know she is loved."  !!!!  This also helped me.  He may not have seen a difference in me right away, but I committed that night, that moment, to get well.  And I began actively working on it....whether he knew it at that time or not.

The third thing Mark did by loving me was to let things go.  Mark did not throw the past up in my face.  He had the wisdom to know that it would have made things worse, not better, if he had done so.  Instead, he welcomed me with open arms every time, EVERY TIME, I was "over myself" and ready for a hug.  EVERY TIME I apologized to him, he forgave me.  He didn't lord it over me.  He didn't act as if he deserved the apology.  He didn't punish me.  He forgave me.  He would ALWAYS hug me.  He would ALWAYS smile.  And he was ALWAYS up for whatever I felt like doing whether he had the time or not.  To say this helped me is an understatement.  If he had not been so full of grace and forgiveness, I would've stopped apologizing.  Instead, I worked even harder to heal the anger inside me.

The fourth thing Mark did by loving me was remaining faithful to God.  He couldn't have known how much this helped me.  There were intense moments where I didn't want to go to church or even be around my church friends.  I stopped reading my Bible for a time and didn't even want to pray.  Mark, however, never stopped.  And on top of that, he NEVER made me feel guilty for this.  He simply asked me, "Do you feel up to going to church with the kids and me this morning?"  If I said no, he would kiss my forehead and say, "Okay.  No worries.  We'll miss you but I hope you can get some rest."  People, this took the burden of "churching" my children off my shoulders and let me have this time to do battle.  I needed to know that Mark and the kids had their spiritual lives in hand so that I could wrangle mine back from the Evil One.  I don't believe I would ever have been able to do it if his spiritual life had fallen away as well. 

Mark never preached to me or pointed out happy couples to me or told me how he wished I would change.  Because of his patience, kindness, love, forgiveness, joy, peace, self-control, goodness, thankfulness, and gentleness, my journey into darkness was short-lived.  Oh, it didn't seem so short at the time.  It seemed relentless and never-ending.  But it wasn't.  And God wasn't patiently waiting at the end, like Mark was.  Mark was at the end of the tunnel waiting for me to dig my way out to him.  God, however, was digging right beside me, and sometimes FOR me, during the entire pilgrimage.  God never gave up on me.  He never will.

I don't deserve God's patience and grace and love.  But He gives it to me without limit.  In being Christ to me, Mark has given me the same.  Mark didn't deserve how I treated him.  He could've walked away so many times (and to this day I'm sure he thought seriously about it!).  But he had promised to stay.  That promise encompassed all that kept him with me.  Endurance.  Faith.  Perseverance.  Faith.  Faith.  Faith.  Love.  Grace.  Did I mention faith?    When Mark promised to stay with me, he wasn't promising me.  He was promising God.

I'm happy to tell you that, several medications, doctors, therapy, and prayers later, I'm no longer prone to anger.  Mark and I are happy...no...we're better than that.  We're content.  We are at peace.  We love each other and the beauty of that love is knowing that we will love each other no matter what.

It is not a question of whether or not hard times will come, it is a matter of your commitment when they do.  When you take your vows and say that you will love each other in sickness and in health, you are not saying "If you get sick, I'll love you".  You're saying, "WHEN you get sick I'll love you."  Love is a choice.  It is a commitment.  It is not a mushy-gushy feeling.

{I am not preaching to anyone here.  I have friends who are divorced and/or going through divorce.  I have friends in seemingly loveless marriages.  This was mine and Mark's journey and, as you surely know by now, I see my life as a ministry and only share it to help where it can help.}

If At First....

We're back from our 4th of July Vacation and all is well.  We had a wonderful time with family who are also our friends and feel encouraged by their company.  Now, we are busy!!  The children started swim lessons Monday and Maggie immediately noticed the Cats swim team practicing in the lanes.  She asked one of the coaches what she would have to do to be part of the team and was told she must swim freestyle the length of the pool and backstroke back.  She asked if she might try it and was encouraged to jump in.

She didn't make it.  She almost made it, but didn't.  She had to hang on to the side and breath a bit before continuing her freestyle.  She did the backstroke beautifully but it wasn't enough.  No go.  She was told that she could try again anytime.  I was heartbroken.  She'd wanted this so badly.  And she'd looked so tiny in that huge pool.  It takes my breath away how tiny she is sometimes.  But anyway...

So, Maggie went back to her swim class and asked her teacher to specifically work with her on breathing.  She did.  Ten minutes later, Maggie went back to the swim team coach and asked to try again.  The coach was surprised but willing.  Maggie jumped in and began to swim.  She didn't make it.  She almost made it, but didn't.  I was ready to hold her...thinking about what cookies we might need to bake that afternoon to heal the wounds.  But she didn't come to me...she went straight back to her swim class.

Ten minutes later, she was back at the swim coach.  This time, the coach was smiling and cheered her on.  Maggie jumped in and swam the freestyle the entire length of the pool and then backstroked back without stopping.  I had sorely underestimated my daughter.  She has more tenacity, perseverance, and umph than I ever did!  She was like the Energizer Bunny!  (only not annoying)!

The swim coach told her she hadn't officially made the team but if she'd work on her breathing she'd soon make it.  Maggie went straight back over to her swim class and this time the teacher was ready to give her tips and encouragement in meeting her goal.  She worked hard until the end of class.

The next day, Maggie watched longingly as the girls on the swim team swam their laps.  She went to her class and did her breathing exercises and whatever else her teacher had her do.  During the last ten minutes of class she asked if she could swim with the swim team and was told yes (this is a very encouraging group!).  As the practice came to an end, the swim coach told her she could practice with the swim team the next day if she wanted.  She wanted!

The third day, Maggie swam laps, did different exercises and jumped off the block (perhaps not as gracefully as she'd hoped).  She kept up with the other girls and had a blast.  At the end of practice, the coach said, "Great job, Maggie.  Welcome to the team.  Our first meet is Friday."

If she had given up after that first try, she never would've known her potential.  Even trying a second time was met with failure.  Even a third time, though gaining encouragement, did not meet with immediate results.  But she didn't give up.  She kept trying and trying and trying.  Between tries, she worked toward success.  She completely blew me away.  She would NOT give up!  She wanted on the team and she GOT on the team!

I am so proud of her.  She has taught me much in her 10 years of life.  I imagine there's more to come.