Showing posts with label finances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label finances. Show all posts

Thursday, January 27, 2011

A Shameless Plea ...



Hi all -

The following is a shameless plea for help.

As many of you know, my now eleven year old son, Kameron, has had a pretty tough road. He was a 25 week premie with a grade four brain bleed (translated: he was born 3 months early because his biological mom couldn't stop hitting the crack pipe while she carried him and he should have never survived his extreme prematurity); after he came into my foster home at a year, on a ventilator and with a feeding tube in his tummy, he thrived, and around 3 years later, was off the vent, had the tube removed, and was looking great.

Then, when he turned five, he inexplicably began having massive migraine headaches, vomiting, seizures, and stroke-like symptoms. Turned out he had some crazy thing called Arteriovenous Malformations. Lots of them. They are kind of like aneurisms in his brain, threatening to burst and kill him. More than thirty procedures, including brain surgery, later - no more major seizures. In fact, he's been mostly seizure free since August 2008. Awesome!

So, now we address his other physical issues. Little man can't walk. He's been scooting on the floor, and with a special walker (called a gait trainer), he can move around some. To the Orthopedist we go. Now, we've been going to the Ortho doctor for years. But, this time, when we did a check-in hip x-ray, this is what it showed:

Now, I'm not a professional, but these babies looked bad, even to me. He needed surgery on both hips. The operation included cutting through both femurs (say WHAT?), bolting them back in the right place, and rebuilding his left hip socket.

Sure, says I. We can handle that. Ha. "We"? Kam's the one who went through it all. I just helped with the after care stuff. The surgery was September 14th, 2010. It lasted six hours, and he came out in a thing called a Spica Cast. It encased him from just below his nipple line down to his ankles, made him look a lot like a little plastic cowboy, you know, how their legs are in the ready-to-sit-on-the-saddle position? Like that.

And yes, there was a hole in the front and back for the personal hygiene stuff. Enough said.

He was home the entire six weeks, mostly because he was doped up on pain meds the first two weeks, couldn't poop the next one (kidding, kind of), and really because the only wheelchair I could fit him in was completely unable to be transported on a special bus. He had a tutor for a few hours each morning, Mr. Steve.

Transferring him from place to place - like bed to commode to wheelchair - was accomplished with the help of a thing called a Hoyer Lift. That's the pic at the top of this post.

Okay, so we get through this. He has the cast removed, and we start physical therapy, pool therapy, and getting back to school therapy. What didn't I plan for? Oh yeah. He's had major surgery on both of his legs. And both hips. Hummm. Guess there will be some weakness, pain, and general tough stuff. Yep.
But, he's a tough kid. "Survivor" doesn't begin to cover it. He is a bit cranky - ha! But, so am I by this point.

Bottom line, he, me, we, are all doing better. BUT the reason for this particular post is to, as I said, make a shameless plea for help. Kam is officially a paraplegic. Actually, I think they diagnose him as a quad, because he has a really weak left arm, and they don't call people tri-plegic. But, I don't have a way to transport him. I drive a Pacifica. It's kind of a station wagon. Not a van, not a sedan. In order to take Kameron to his many medical appointments, I have to lift him up into the bucket passenger seat, and then lift his wheelchair (which weighs 27 kilos - 59 pounds) into the back of the car.

Kam now weighs 110 pounds.

I am a strong woman, thank God. Really, I mean that. But, I am not getting any younger. And the years of caregiving are taking their toll. My back is prone to serious spasms, and frankly, I avoid taking Kameron out at all costs. Obviously, I make it to the necessary appointments; I have to. He has to see the PTs and the OTs and the doctors.

But, I have for years wanted to be able to take him out on regular family type things. To go to the park. To take him to the movies (although behavior can be a bit challenging...), for crying out loud, I'd like to just throw him in the car and go to the grocery store.

He needs a wheelchair van. Seriously.

I have looked into this for a long time; they aren't cheap. A new conversion van is in the 35k range. Funny thing is, I looked at a used Caravan, a 2000 Caravan, and the price on it was $20k. Even used, they are extremely pricey. And I just don't have the ability to finance one. There are some on Craigslist that are from the 90's that go for around $6,000, but I can't swing that right now, either. And he is getting bigger. We just got him fit for a larger wheelchair.

SOOOOO, I am asking for help. I added a "donate" button at the top of the blog. If any of you feel like you could or would be able to help in this, I would be beyond grateful.

Kam's had a some challenging times, and yet, he's a really good boy. He has a long road ahead, and frankly, as his sole caregiver, so do I.

Anything you can do would be so so so appreciated.

Thanks everyone. Oh, by the way, this is how his hips look now:
Aren't they BEAUTIFUL??

Monday, September 28, 2009

Okay, so this "bad economy" thing is beginning to irk me.

You hear about it everywhere - it's causing people on my favorite TV shows to lose their TV jobs, commit TV crimes, and act in very uncharacteristic (for their TV character) ways.

I've shared that I've needed to downsize. You know, selling a few things: my cherry red LG steam washer/dryer combo; my stainless steel french door Jennair refrigerator; my king-sized all solid wood four poster canopy bed . . .

But, this is just NOT okay.

I had to leave Therapist Lisa.

See, I am between health insurance plans, and the
one that "let me go" didn't cover her. So her (sorry TL) fairly hefty fee's been coming out of my ever-shrinking pocket. BTW, she is worth every single penny.

First, I tried cutting back. We went from weekly to every other week. It helped, but really I still couldn't afford her. Mostly I just wrote the checks and prayed (literally) that everything would still get paid.

Here's the crazy part: that didn't work so well. But (important "but), it did buy me some time, and I think that was a good thing. I've got a notebook full of her really good, insightful, tailor-made-for-me instructions, and if I'm smart enough to apply them, I think I'll be okay.

Don't get me wrong. I had a choice. I could have tried desperately to find other ways to make more money. At this point in my life, I am thankfully, still pretty employable. But (another important "but"), that completely flies in the face of all the advice she's given me. One of the reasons I slid so far down into the emotional/mental health quicksand was because of all the frantic activity and chaos I'd allowed in my life. Extra jobs on extra jobs. No way to find coverage for the kids (shocker - not too many folk are qualified and willing to watch my super-special little brood). No life for me. The payoff in income was never enough to offset the damage to my soul.

I'm pretty sure we have enough to keep the lights on and food on the table. The other things will either continue to wait or not. My experience is that some will, some won't. But God has always been faithful to us. We will be okay.

My sweet little mom and my dad lived through the real Depression. I've heard stories . . .

None of them included the great sacrifice of quitting counseling. Or, maybe having to eat out less and perhaps drop the Netflix subscription.

I am beyond grateful for my motley little family. We have a good thing going on: each other. I am SO proud of all my children, and I really know that our love for each other and God's love for us will safely see us through. However that pans out.

Tons of love to all of you. You don't know how much I appreciate you for listening to my musing (some would say rambling).

Talk to you soon.
The Stunner next to the Airstream
is my mommy, btw. From back in Her Day