Just spinning my wheels.....

Sigh... Purl and I are grounded. Let me set the scene. A lovely Sunday afternoon, All is well with the members of the family, DD1 is doing well, and DD2 is working, and the G-man is holding the fort. It is sunny,  but not too bright, cool but cold.


the perfect day for a ride, and so we did. A few hours later I found myself having worked to the far outskirts of Ottawa. I was thirsty and being the mid-aged girl badly in need of a restroom, so when the sign said 16km to Cumberland, and I turned for the home of my motorcyle pal Peter. Finding no one at home, I confidently re-negotiated back down the tricky gravel driveway, and pulled out.

For fhat happened next I need to rely on the accident report. AlI I rememeber is no traction and then wham, traction galor! And then there was a ditch. When my heart stopped pounding and Purls kills switch kicked in, I realized that there was no way my right leg was letting me stand up, so so I pulled out my cell phone all the while cursing a blue streak.

As luck would have a pair of good samaritains, mom and daughter, stopped moments later and took over the mechanicals of the cell phone and called all the appropriate emergancy personnel, and kept me squared away and in good spirits while we waited. Can't say their names as I have yet to speak with personally, but ladies you are the best!! Simply the best!! I can only hope to pay forward the kindness, campassion and good humor as you showed me that Sunday afternoon.

OPS (Ottawa Police Services) attended and prompty imformed me he had found the problem with the ditch: there was a Harley in it! Good sport that he was though, he had is up and out of the ditch and tucked away safety in Peter's lean to. Sargent your Harley quip is forgiven in light of your brotherly biker concern for the sercurity of my girl, Purl!

So, up until this point, aside from the wee problem with my front leg, I was in good shape.That was until I discovered that when a person is in what is considered a vehicluar accident like myself, they need to be taken to the nearest emergancy room, and in this case that place was the Monfort hospital. OMG! I.DO.NOT.SPEAK FRENCH. Barely a word, and the Monfort is nothing if not French.

For now I will spare you the ups and downs of my 10 days there. The stories are hard and 2 surgeries later I am trying hard to forget most of them.

For now it enough to know that I my right Tibia Plateau was shattered and rebuilt over the course of a week and I`m grounded for the next few months. My stable now houses a walker, a wheelchair and some shiny crutches I have yet to make friends with. And a whole summer to learn how to play nice.

I have not let Purl see them, she would not be pleased. She too will need some TLC: new handlebars, a signal light, and front spokes checked and complete safety check before next season. Poor girl - she is stabled at Peter`s next to Miss Daisy, and will stay there until repairs begin. It is the best place for her for now, amoungest her kind while we both recoupreate.

And yes there will be knitting - as soon as the pain meds allow me to count sequencally, there will be plenty of time for knitting. A whole summer of knitting the days away...

Knit on........

Rocking the MRI at 5.0!

Can you beleive it? Just as DD1 gets about halfway through her urgent MRI, the earthquake hits! Poor thing was stuck in the MRI rocking and shaking, like a kid wildly waving a hotdog in a bun! Scared the crap out of her, and she said it was quite an ordeal to un-hook the leads and IV's to get her outside to the waiting room. Still she was impressed with the staff as they quickly, calmly and precisely shut down the machine and assisted her in vacating the area. She was still shaking later that evening as she recounted the event.

Hodgkins, Pulmonary hypertension - Just a walk in the park compared to this! Definitely a story for the cocktail crowd! We are going to design her a T-shirt that says "I am a MRIES 5.0" - Magnetic Resonance Imaging Earthquake Survivor 5.0" - beat that if you can!

Knit on.....

ps. 06.27.10 - Sanna, bless her, asked if DD1 was ok, as in not injured during her earthquake ordeal. Thankfully, yes DD1 was just fine, well shaken, but not stirred!! No mumps or bruises from the earthquake - indeed we had very few and only minor injuries in the Capital City, remarkable considering we were the highest shake on record on the earthquake scale that day! However, as if the MRI incident wasn't enough, poor DD1 did crack her bald little head on the counter when her walker got stuck in the kitchen and she bent down to unhinge herself, so she is sprouting a lovely gash on a very bruised noggin after all! What a week!

Steady as she goes....

DD1 is holding steady while we wait on an MRI - urgent ridiculous date. We expect a revised date, one much sooner, any minute now. She still can't walk more than 5meters without resting in on her walker seat, and so walkers and wheelchairs are part of our home decor, just for the time being, I hope...

In the mean time we have hired a dear friends daughter, who is a nurse on maternity leave waiting on their first baby, to spend 3 hours a day with DD1, and make lunch and drive to appointments, help DD1 in whatever way she can, understanding that bigbaby belly may pose the odd predicament! It is working out super well, and DD1 seems non-plussed about me no longer being there 24/7. A very good thing.

So Purl and I have been getting out and about, gaining more and more confidence with each ride. Last week I did my first on road run with Coach Peter (did I tell you that?), and this weekend was another 3 hour run with a nieghbor who sportingly accompanied me.

But this evening, I went solo! Yup - just me and Purl, hitting the road, out for an evening tour. Fabulous!  Not one stall tonight - quite a feat if you knew how much Purls throttle and I argue every ride! But not tonight. Tonight was leasurely, down winding roads with little or no traffic, just like in the movies. The perfect respite from my daily grind, just like it was suposed to be, just like all my biker friends said it would be. It was awesome!

Knit on....

she who is Mom....

She who is Mom has arrived. My Mom that is. THE Mom. Or, since we have an aging cat who this thinks my daughter is his Mother and I am the Gramma, she who is my Mom is affectionately known as the Big Gramma (in deference to her petite figure!).

I decided that after two years of DD1 having her Mom , me, for support, I finally needed my Mom for some of the same, and so she who is Mom, came, still driving her own car at 78 years old (we think she is 78 'cause she won't actually tell us how old she is - and she is still a whizz behind the wheel!) all the way from north of the GTA, about 6 hours driving time.

She arrived with 9, yes 9, boxed of baked goods from the local Erin Bakery; cookies, honey-glazed donuts, tarts, brownies, squares, danish, chelsea bun, and bread. O.M.G. heaven arrived in white paper boxes.

These are the delectables of my childhood, the treats I grew up with, the comfort food I crave; these are the joyous sweets I made sure to introduce my children too, and it is the comfort food they desire in times of uncertainty too.

DD1 sent the Big Gramma an e-mail asking for her to bring a few treats, and wow did she deliver! To save us all from certain un-seemly acts of wonton gorging, I promptly froze many of these delectables for the future. Still the honey glazed donuts must, simply must, be eaten the day they are made or they are wasted, and so those were demolished upon arrival. The danish made it to the the next morning for breakfast, and the cookies were shared with friends and family for Sunday dinner.desert and over the last few days.

Since Sunday we have eaten our way through every baked good type known to man-kind and my stomach aches after every meal, and I am on the verge of destroying a years worth of careful eating and a hard lost 30+ pounds.But the smiles on ours faces are worth everysweet bite.

Sometimes it's really good to have your Mom with you. I am glad she's here and not just for the baked goods!

Knit on....

p.s. She who is Mom, or Big Gramma, is actually going to be 80 later this year - we wrangled the truth this trip - can you believe it?? Wow!! Amazing!!!

Just hanging around home for a change...

DD1 is finally home, and although it is without a doubt very challenging (she can only walk a few meters at a time, and the stairs are killer, almost literally!) we are so glad to get her back. For now we will take it one day at a timw, with just a whole lotta just hanging out going on here.

Knit on....

What the * just happened?

In my last post, already 3 weeks ago, we were all coming along fine, DD1 was looking fine, and Purl and I were riding high (ok still in the parking lot, but coming along just fine!).

Then wham, the world just tilted out from under our feet. DD1's little virus that had kicked her back a wee notch went from bad to worse and turned into a pneumonia like bad-boy with attitude, and the next thing we knew she was in major trouble. A 3a.m. transfer from the heamatology ward to the ICU shook us badly and I spent the first week watching as my baby struggled to breathe without being intibated. The only way to explain it was as if she was running, flat out, for about 4 days straight. Normal breathing is about 15-20 breaths per minute - she was breathing at over 50 breaths per minute at some points, like running a marathon for days. The body simply cannot do this for very long, and and at some point usually gives up and emergancy intibation is required.

This is not an experience any parent should go through. I spent several 24 hour sleepless days at her bedside, preparing for whatever might happen. As it was, everytime the doctors thought they might have intibate, I would go and talk to her, gently caressing her like when she was a fussy infant, and slowly she would come back from the edge bringing her heart rate down just enough and her breathing back enough from the danger zone, and over 5 days she was able to avoid the worst interventions. Never under estimate the powerful un-spoken connections between a mother and child.

After a week of ICU she came back to the ward, but was unable to walk or breathe without oxygen. It has taken about 7 days for her to start walking and only yesterday did she start breathing without her oxygen for a few hours at a time. Everyday we have been bundling her up and getting outside for some fresh air which has done her a world of good and today she will get a pass for a family event which we are all so excited about.

So what happend? Was it a virus? Well maybe yes, maybe no - nothing ever came back conclusive from the tests in ICU. However, it was the "it-looks-like-she's-having-a-heart-attack" and another 3 a.m. CT scan last Thursday night and subsequent diagnosis last Friday that tilted our universe on its arse - as if the Hodgkin's wasn't enough, DD1 has a new disease called Pulmonary Hypertension. This is devastating news and it has taken us a week to just get used to the idea. I never in the the last 2 years of her Hodgkin's battle thought she wouldn't make it, but last week, for the first time ever, I really wasn't sure, and I, indeed all of us, was very, very scared.

Our initial research scared the crap out of us, I can tell you, as up until a mere 10 years ago there was no cure and a life expentancy of only 2 years. Now there is still no cure, but better long term management of the disease has changed the forecast and there are more and more reports of people living productive and longer lives with the newer medications avialable today. Still, it is very telling that there is no discussion about her long term prognosis as yet.

What does it mean for DD1's future? That remains to be determined. Only time will tell. First we will watch to see how well she recovers from this incident, as she is very doing well by all standards, better than expected - does't she always! and is expected to come home with support this week. And she will begin one of the newest and most promising medications on the market today, Tracleer,  one of the latest wonder drugs to help people with this disease. She and I have spent many long afternoons this past week in the hospital park, DD1 all bundled up in her wheelchair, talking about how this will change her life, even more so than the Hodgkin's battle did, and how it will change all of us. What will her life be like, what will she do, how will she be. All questions I cannot, for the first time in 30 years of being a parent, come up with an answer for.

Have I done some knitting throughout this? Yes, when I could get my head to work right - a crocheted cotton hat for DD1, a second knitted one on its way, and I'm on the second of a pair of socks for myself. And in between, Purl and I continue our lessons with our most patient instructor Peter, who says I will be out and about for a nice back country ride very soon. This week we are practicing tight turns from a stop and controlled start. Apparently I have issues turning left, sigh.....

Knit on.....

That's a whole lotta horsepower, baby!

Last weekend was motorcycle class - 2 nine hour days of nothing but motorcycling - pushing motorcycles, lifting motorcycles, riding motorcycles, and lots of sitting around on motorcycles! I can tell you I was never so tired as I was by Sunday evening! Motorcycle boot camp is more like it! Thank goodness I have been hitting the gym a few times a weeks ince March and dropped 30 pounds since last year - I would have never made it otherwise - it was without a doubt the hardest thing I have done physically in many, many years!.

By Saturday night I was fit to be tied, almost in tears, and really thought I had bitten off more than I could chew! I was struggling to master that damn clutch, having never in my life used one, and couldn't for love nor money stop stalling the bike whenever Ian, my instructor, spoke to me! By the end of the day we were both very frustrated with my lack of progress and my definite last in class status.

So that evening I made some calls to my biker friends and received a myriad of ideas, including two which seemd to make the most difference - one, change back from my full face helmet to my half helmet so I could actually hear the little 250cc engine (since hearing is the next best thing to feeling the clutch, and I didn't have a freaking clue what I was suposed to be feeling!), and most importantly two, stop worrying about passing the class and have fun! Remember fun?? - this class was supposed to be for fun!!! Yup -  I had forgotten all about fun!!

With my attitude re-adjusted, Sunday was much better, although I still struggled with the gears, knowing nothing about what I was doing, while others whizzed by me! On a plus note, I had no trouble with balance, counter-steering, emergancy stopping, and cornering - and I was having some fun, having decided that if i was wasn't ready for the test, so be it!!

At lunch Ian and I had a little pow-pow and said he thought I might as well try the test and see what I could do. Imagine both our surprise when I passed! Poor Ian, he checked his numbers twice just in case he was mistaken - secretly I think he was hoping he had made a mistake! I had to really re-assure him I would not hit the streets on my new Sportster, and would stick to parking lots for a while, until I could control the throttle and change gears without difficulty. He did not seem very re-assured!

Fast forward a week later. I have been out twice this week on Purl - the weather not co-operating one bit - and have really begun to catch on to this shifting thing. Not to mention, I have since discovered that no one in class told me to close the choke once the engine was warmed up! No wonder 1st gear was so choppy!

The 1200cc engine of Purl is much easier to hear when it is time to change gears, and although throttle control needs some more work (it is big time sensitive!), I have been zipping around the parking lots doing figure eights and changing up and back through 4th gear (I have 5 speeds but the parking lot is only so big) with much more ease under the expert and very, very patient tutelage of my coach and dear friend Peter - this being one of those thing husbands and wives should never attempt to teach each other unless you want instant divorce! Much like wall-papering, if you catch my drift!

And so I no longer eye Purl in trepidation, but rather speak to her gently every day as I walk by on my way to and from work - I am learning to be the boss of my bike and she is becoming my friend, and we will (eventually) be allowed to play in traffic together with the others!

Knit on......

ps. 7 weeks post stem cell tranplant and DD1 is doing fab - she has picked up a wee virus which has stolen some of her zip, but overall everyone is quite pleased with her progress.