Rachel Coleman

I asked myself, Rachel, if you only had 1 year left to blog. What would you write?

I would write this…

Our experience raising Leah is not typical, not typical at all. I dare say, we have successfully raised a deaf, bilingual child.

We did it in a school environment that called us “crazy.” In Leah’s Individual Education Program (IEP), where she transitioned from Early Intervention to preschool, we were asked,

“Why do you want ASL? No one else wants ASL.”

I didn’t care what the district said, because really, we had nothing… or was it everything, to lose.

The Parent Infant Program representatives from the state agencies told us that our child would graduate from high school with a third grade reading level. Then we asked them,

“Why do you believe that a child who cannot hear does not have the ability to learn?”

We asked them,

“What are you doing wrong? What is wrong with the education of deaf children in America?”

These questions kept us awake at night. Why on earth was it acceptable that generations of deaf children were being failed by the only school systems available for them to attend? It became VERY, VERY clear that we could not and would not entrust our toddler’s education to such an admittedly broken system. They could guarantee that after TWELVE years of schooling Leah would have broken English and at age 18 she would be able to read like an 8 year old. They would not prepare her to compete with her hearing peers heading to college and into the work force.

The solution offered was an embarrassment and I imagined what the reaction to that statement would be if it was said about any other group of individuals… Take a deep breath and try out the following~

“I’m sorry, your child is black. They will graduate from high school with a third grade reading level.”

“I’m sorry to tell you that you can expect your child to graduate from high school with a third grade reading level because she’s a girl.”

Go ahead and fill in the blank- “Hispanic” “gay” “has blue eyes” “short”… fill in the blank!
ANY of those statements would be met with riots! No one would swallow it as truth! No one would stand for it! It wouldn’t just be the parents up in arms, the entire community would fight for those children!

Imagine that your state-funded school had the balls to say that about ANY child!! These are your tax dollars at work.

Now, my friends, let it sink in that this is the reality for parents just like me. The Utah School for the Deaf and Blind said, “statistically you can expect Leah to graduate from high school with a third grade reading level.” Parents of deaf children have been hearing that sickening statistic for years and not just in Utah- this is a nationwide epidemic. The worst part is… parents believe it! They look at their little deaf child and believe that their potential is limited because some stranger from a state organization says so.

Where is the class action lawsuit?

Every child with a disability is guaranteed a “free and appropriate education”.

This conversation should make you feel sick.
It should make you angry.
It should be on the local and national news repeatedly until it is resolved!

For some reason, Aaron and I didn’t believe them. Instead we believed that we could offer Leah something much better than that. We would do it. We didn’t know how, but we knew that she was deaf, not stupid.

We sought out deaf adults and found many who had college degrees and PhDs!! Proof that a deaf person could succeed academically! Most of these deaf adults had deaf parents. Their parents had never struggled to accept that their child was deaf. These deaf children were in a signing environment from day one. We asked deaf adults for their advice on raising our deaf child. We asked them because they had lived the life that we wanted Leah to live… a life without limits. We followed their advice. We looked to the Deaf Community as our compass. They told us that Leah’s first language should be American Sign Language. They said that once Leah had a solid first language (ASL), we could then teach her English through reading and writing.
Finally something that made sense!

We were excited to share this breakthrough with the Early Intervention team, with the School District, with all of those people who could make a difference for every deaf child. We told them what we had learned and what we wanted for our child and why we believed it would work. They looked at us like we were crazy. They told us we needed to pick a program that they offered, they weren’t going to make up a new program just for Leah Coleman. It was such a slap in the face to have them simply re-offer their broken system, since that was all they had.

We visited every preschool in their system. We drove hundreds of miles to do so. We were looking for a teacher, the right teacher. At each school we saw the same sad scenario, the deaf children did not have free, expressive conversations, they were signing by rote.

Each time we met the teacher they would ask, “What’s her name?”
I responded, “Ask her.”
“NO! Don’t tell me she can…” and they would turn to Leah, asking her in sign, “What’s your name?”
Leah responded by fingerspelling her name “L-E-A-H” and then showed them her Name Sign.
The teachers, one after another were stunned.
“How old is she?” They asked me.
I rolled my eyes. “Ask her.”
“NO!!!” They turned excitedly and asked Leah, “How old are you?”
Leah smiled “I’m two-years-old almost 3. I’ll be 3 in December.”

It was as if they had just discovered a new species. They were fascinated by her. Then they would then sit down with Leah and ask her everything they could think of. Leah chatted on and on about this and that, her favorite colors, foods and the people in her life. The teachers were completely engaged.

And every visit ended with them saying, “We really would love to have her in our class. She would be such a great language role model for the other children!”

It was nice that everyone wanted Leah, but I had a sick feeling in my stomach.
A nagging question.

Who would be Leah’s role model?”

There was no ASL classroom and so we created one. We chose a deaf teacher and then we wrote into Leah’s Individualized Education Plan (IEP) that she needed to be in a language rich environment, one where she had access to acquire her natural language, ASL. It sounds simple, really and no one was opposed to writing that in to her IEP… BUT… when we explained that ASL is a visual language and it requires two fluent signers in a room for a child to have natural language acquisition, the team was a little perplexed. See, that is how we were able to get Leah a one-on-one aide. Her aide was fluent in ASL and the teacher that we chose was deaf. Now there were two signers in the class and our child actually had an appropriate and effective language model.

In school Leah could not communicate with her peers. They stared at her blankly as she signed on and on about this and that. Then she started coming home signing like them. I was horrified! All of our hard work seemed to be dissolving right before my eyes! I asked, “What did you do today at school?” Leah would respond in a repetitive, almost robotic way, “BIKE-BIKE-BIKE” she signed, not making eye contact with me. Then “EAT-EAT-EAT” “PLAY-PLAY.”
“Leah. Leah. Look at me. What did you do at school today? I’m asking a real question.” Every day the same answers by rote. She would sign like that for about an hour and then finally ease back into being the expressive, happy kid we knew and loved.

We went to the school and visited the older grades. K-4 we saw the same thing. As I looked at the projects and work displayed on the walls in each classroom, it was obvious to me that these children were not doing grade appropriate work. As far as language level, Leah was testing at the level of the deaf 4th graders, but she was only three-years-old. We couldn’t put her in with nine-year-old.

We also created a Deaf Mentor program for Leah. Leah had a Deaf Mentor when we lived in Utah, a wonderful woman named Diane would come to our home each week and teach us ASL. There was no such program when we moved to Los Angeles. Luckily it was in her Individualized Family Service Plan(IFSP) and so we continued it. We were told that it would be up to us to find the deaf adult. We agreed. We found a deaf man who was a teacher working for our school system. That made it easy for them to pay him. John came to our home once a week for an hour and we turned our voices off and just signed.

People always ask us how we did it. How we were able to smash the statistics. How Leah can comfortably identify herself as hearing and as deaf. The above is just one piece of that puzzle. We knew that Leah’s success was ultimately up to us. We couldn’t even pretend that the current school system would carry her. We took on her education and success as our own responsibility.

Most importantly Aaron and I saw Leah as a wonderful little girl with a bright and limitless future. We saw her as all of that even when so many others… so many “professionals” only saw her as a deaf kid.

Once upon a time~
Someone sent me a link to a video about Team Hoyt. This was a long, long time ago. As I watched this father push his son, I was floored. I was inspired. It gave new meaning to “strong enough.” At the time I didn’t think that it had much to do with me, but I never forgot those images. I never forgot the love.

Last year when I registered for both half-marathons, I admit, I checked the rules. I looked to see if a stroller or a wheelchair would be allowed. The rules clearly stated that wheelchairs and strollers were NOT allowed. Did I secretly give a sigh of relief? Maybe. I’ll never tell.

This year I checked the rules again as I registered for the Salt Lake City Half-Marathon. Nothing had changed. In fact it stated “No wheelchairs. No strollers. No exceptions.” I was checking the rules for myself… sort of, I mean Lucy hadn’t even asked about it. I just wondered how it was that Team Hoyt seemed to find so many races that would allow them to participate when so far I was ZERO for Three.

And then one day not too long ago she said it…
I was in the kitchen. Lucy was on the sofa reading. She looked up and said, “I really want to run a half-marathon.” My heart sank just a little because… I had already looked. I already knew the answer was “no.” I smiled at my daughter and said, “That would be fun wouldn’t it?” But, I could still see the words “No Exceptions” clearly in my mind.

When Leah registered to run the half-marathon with us there was a part of me that felt even worse! What was I going to say now? “Sorry Lucy, see Leah’s just deaf and you… well, you got a bummer deal on the ol’ legs. You can’t walk and you can’t run so you get to stay home with a babysitter. Chalk one up for spina bifida and cerebral palsy.”

More than two weeks had passed since I made the call. YES, I made the call. I set the girls up with their homework and I went outside on the front porch. I shut the front door and I called the Race Director. I got his voicemail and I left the most compelling message I could muster up. In the face of No Exceptions, I was just committed (or crazy) enough to ask for one anyhow. I actually said, “I am calling to ask you to make an exception.” (Bwahahaha!)

Weeks went by and no one called me back, so I posted “Run With Your Life” and I only talked about Leah joining us in the race which was exciting and amazing and… I knew something was missing. You knew it too. You asked about Lucy in your comments.

Then… two days later I got word.
THEY WOULD MAKE AN EXCEPTION!
Lucy was in!!!

I might have jumped up and down in my front yard and whooped and hollered a bit. I just might have.

I couldn’t wait to tell Lucy. As soon as she was off the school bus and the bus engine had faded enough for us to talk I told her, “Lucy, I have really exciting news! You can do the half-marathon with us! We can all run as a family!” Lucy’s eyes were wide with disbelief. She put out her arms to hug me. Her eyes welled with tears. “Can you believe it Lucy?” I asked.

Still slightly shocked she looked up at me with a huge smile and said in a half whisper, “I am going to get a medal!”

We hadn’t been training with her and now the race was only a month away. We didn’t even own a jog-stroller. I called my friend Mike at Baby Bling Design Co. I knew that even though he doesn’t make the kind of stroller that I needed, he could tell me what I needed and point me in the right direction to find it. Like I said Mike doesn’t make that kind of stroller but as luck would have it he just happened to have one that he had used as a prototype for sheepskin stroller inserts. He had been trying to figure out what to do with this brand new jog-stroller in his warehouse. (Are you kidding me?) Within two hours of our “exception” Mike had donated the stroller and it was on its way to us!

And that’s how it happened that THIS Saturday Aaron, Rachel, Leah and Lucy Coleman will ALL be participating in the Salt Lake City Half-Marathon!!!
You can jump up and down a bit and even whoop and holler. I wont tell. Or better yet, if you are in town we would love to have you cheer us on. I think we’ll be pretty easy to spot… see, we’ll be the ones with the stroller.

~With special thanks to Team Hoyt for paving the way and special thanks to The Salt Lake City Marathon Race Director, Scott Kerr for being a “Yes” in a world full of “No”

At the beginning of 2010 I set a goal to complete my first triathlon and to run two half-marathons. (I like to do my marathons one half at a time.) And while I was setting goals, I decided to go for breaking my personal record of running 13.1 miles in 2:05:02. This year I will break the 2-hour mark.

Do I really think life is going to simply unfold just the way I plan it? You would think by now that I would know better than that.

Here’s what happened…

My 11-year-old nephew Alex (yep, that’s the Alex you all know and love) joined a Run Club. He began running three days a week after school with trainer Kasey Payzant and her club, which includes about twenty-five kids, ages six to eighteen. Then… my 13-year-old daughter Leah joined. Most of the parents drop their kids off to run for an hour, and pick their kids up later. That’s fine for most parents, especially since the Run Club is geared toward kids, but my husband Aaron and I like to do things a little different so we asked if “big kids” like us, could join too.

By the time we joined, many of the kids in Run Club had already committed to running the Salt Lake City Half-Marathon in April. Aaron and I were already registered. Last year, Aaron and I ran two half-marathons and we crossed the finish line before our two daughters, sleeping soundly at home, had even woken up. Come to think of it, we go to the gym when our kids are at school. Aaron and I often hit the ski slopes right after the bus picks up Lucy for school in the morning. My kids haven’t seen and may not even know about most of the physical activity and training that goes on in their parents’ lives!

And then… Kasey, our trainer, did something I had never thought to do.   Read more…

Every year, especially around the time of my wedding anniversary, I hear comments about how X percentage of couples that have one child with a disability, get divorced. And how Aaron and I have truly beaten the odds by having a marriage survive this long with both of our children having disabilities.

I don’t care much for statistics- I’ve shared before that one in one thousand children are born profoundly deaf AND one in one thousand children are born with Spina bifida. Aaron and I got one of each… go figure. I am no expert in statistics, but from what I hear the likelihood of getting two – one in one thousands is actually- one in a million. There’s something about that that makes me smile. (Dear stat experts, if it’s not true, don’t burst my bubble… just keep it to yourselves)

I do like to think we have somehow beaten the odds. But, I don’t want to lead you astray either. See, it has not always been pink and rosy. No actually there were years… YEARS and YEARS where when we were asked how we manage it all, the answer was this, “Well, neither one of us wants to do this alone.” (Not super inspiring is it?) Even three years ago, if you had asked how Aaron and I “keep it all together” I would have told you, “Neither one of us wants to do this alone.”

Read more…

Every year I think about sending a Christmas card… but, I don’t do it.

The last time I sent out a Christmas card, it was 1996 and it looked like this—

Yes, that is Leah. She’s a week old… well, not any more. She’s actually 13 and that photo just got me thinking that I should probably send out a card JUST so people know we don’t look like that AT ALL.

I am terrible at sending out Christmas cards. The worst part is, I WANT to be good at it. Every year I buy cards. Sometimes they even have the sticky place to put a photo, because I fool myself into believing I might really pull that off too!

My cousin Jen has it down. Hers is always the first card I receive each year. She must do them while we are all taking our turkey induced nap on Thanksgiving.

Perhaps, I should pride mine in being the LAST card people receive… or as reality would have it, the last card they don’t receive. (sigh) I am not good at the Christmas card thing and I should accept it.

Please don’t suggest I email a card, because really… emailed Christmas cards don’t even count! That’s all I am going to say about that.

This year, I sat down with Aaron and mused at the possibility of writing one of those AWESOME Family Christmas Letters. Now there’s a commitment!! I secretly believe some marriages end over those annual productions. I opened the 2009 calendar to see if I could remember what we actually did this year. GAH! First of all, my calendar is 4 feet wide and 3 feet high. The boxes are crammed full of appointments, flight numbers, and the school holidays are highlighted, so we don’t forget and accidentally drop our children off. I could hardly decipher the information, let alone organize it and make it sound lovely.

I tried to conjure something up from the top of my head but the good was TOO good and the bad TOO bad. Read more…

The Storm- Before The Quiet- Before The Storm

We had come back from a chilly, rainy day at the ransacked beach to find that something was different. The sliding glass doors that open to the hotel room balcony had been taped, not taped shut, but taped with giant asterisks of packing tape.

The wind had picked up. It had rained daily. (At least it was consistent) Of course we were hoping for better weather. But, since this was supposed to be a business retreat, maybe it was best that it was cool and windy and pouring rain.

Then there was a knock at the door. FYI- I don’t speak much Spanish. I opened the door and was handed two styrofoam “to-go” containers. “Gracias.” I said. It sounded like a question coming out of my mouth.

“Did you order room service?” I hollered to Aaron. He walked out of the bedroom and Leah followed. I held up the containers. We all sat near Lucy and opened them. Read more…

“Excuse me. How old are you?” The woman’s question broke through Lucy’s screams. We had boarded the plane, found our seats and begun doing homework, at Lucy’s request. Luce was in the window seat; I was in the middle, and Leah on the aisle. Aaron was seated a handful of rows behind us in the emergency exit row. Most planes don’t have the legroom for a guy who is 6 foot 5. I have my own complaints, like, my feet don’t reach the floor, my legs swing like a toddler, and by the time we land my knees hurt and my feet are swollen, but that’s nothing compared to flying with your knees smashed against the seat in front of you. (So I hear)

We were finishing up math, only 2 pages left of a week’s worth of homework. This was our flight home from Cancun and the last chance to wrap it up before she returned to school tomorrow. We did the first problem together. Lucy was doing the math, I was writing in her answers… and then… well, to be completely honest, I have no idea what set her off. “What makes Lucy cry and scream?” < ---that my friends is the million dollar question.

Something happened… or maybe nothing happened. Someone coughed? Cleared their throat? Slammed a door? A baby cried? The wind changed? Everything. Nothing. The tirade began. Ear piercing, high pitched, screaming, that went something like this, “I HATE YOU! YOU NEVER HELP ME! YOU’RE STUPID! STUPID! YOU’RE A TERRIBLE MOMMY! YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME! I HATE Y-OOOOOOOOU! (Repeat, non-stop… for 45 solid minutes)

She started her rant before they closed the airplane door. She continued through the safety announcements and hadn’t let up by the time we were allowed to use electronic devices and were free to move about the cabin. 10,000 feet of screams.

There is nothing I can say to stop her, no threat. No look. No words. My response or reaction just makes it escalate. I put on my sunglasses and my headphones and am surprised at how the music drowns out my daughter’s screams. I pop one headphone out and announce loudly, “I hope you all brought headphones!” What else can I do? Read more…

Today is a special day, a special day it’s true! October 9th, is my birthday!

I giggled when I opened my email and received a “Happy Birthday” message from Signing Time, because when I opened that email, I got to see me… singing, and signing to… me. Trust me, it’s a little surreal sometimes.

This year I am 35 whopping years old. Can I get a “whoop whoop!”
I just got back from Washington D.C. and honestly have been traveling so much that I forgot it was my birthday. Leah was in D.C. with me and asked, “Mom, are you excited for the day after tomorrow?” I had no idea what she meant, “Am I excited for Friday? Sure! Who doesn’t love the weekend?”

As far as I know, I currently have no birthday plans, other than unpacking my bags and doing some laundry (hint, hint Aaron) So, I am having a sale! (It’s easier than having a party… very little clean up with a sale) And you my friend, you are invited!

The details came out in the Signing Time Newsletter. (Join it if you haven’t already)

I can’t remember a time we’ve had a sale this big, but then again I have never been this old… so who knows!

The coupon code is in the message below. Feel free to share the video with others, so they can celebrate too. And remember, when October 9th is over… so is the sale!

Visit the Signing Time Store to use the coupon.

La-di-da-di Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday All Day Long!

Ever start writing a blog and just end up boring yourself? I’ve had 2 sitting on my desktop with no compelling reason to complete them. They’re just not good.

So, instead I am going to invite you to check out Oregon with me!

I flew in to Portland on Thursday night. Lindsey (remember her?) was flying in a few hours later, since she had a college class that she just couldn’t miss. I never fly in on the last flight of the day, because if it is cancelled, or I miss it, well, there is no Signing Time event the next day. So, I took and earlier flight and Linds took the last flight.

It’s been awhile since I traveled with Lindsey. Luckily, Lindsey was able to come along, since it is just too early to leave Lucy with a sitter. Lucy was only 2 weeks post-op.

Lucy’s surgeries went really well!

She had three procedures and it took 6 hours. She is very resilient.

For this Oregon trip, Aaron stayed home with Leah and Lucy.

While waiting for Lindsey’s flight to arrive, I knew I would have about 4 hours to kill… so I picked up a ticket to see The Killers, who were playing that very night. (Yay for me!) No, I am not afraid of going to concerts or movies by myself.

The show was amazing. It is my goal to get Baby Signing Time to the lead singer, Brandon Flowers, he has a newborn and a toddler and I would love for them to sign with me… since my family sings along with him.

After the show, I picked up Lindsey and we dove 80 miles to Cannon Beach. We checked in and hit the sack. The bummer with driving in the middle of the night is you miss the beauty.

In the morning we met up with Debbie, whose organization brought us out there, and we had brunch at a place called Wanda’s. This was the first of many AMAZING meals we would have on this trip. I had oatmeal… oatmeal… and it knocked my socks off. I mean really, how often can you say you’ve had an amazing bowl of oatmeal? … Me neither! Though, you are more likely thinking, “You ordered oatmeal? Who orders oatmeal?” I do. Okay? I order oatmeal.

Next we visited Nehalem Elementary School. I shared a sign language story time with the Life Skills Class. Then did a Signing Time Assembly for the entire school.

It was still fairly early in the day, so Linds and I drove back to our inn and threw on our swimsuits (silly California girl!) and hopped back into our PT Cruiser and started driving the coast. We pulled over to get our toes in the sand.

We always ask the locals for dinner recommendations and this time we were pointed toward “The best seafood!” a restaurant called Pirate’s Cove.

Need I say more?

We drove back to the inn, stopping to pick wild blackberries and raspberries that seemed to run rampant everywhere we looked.

The following morning was the Buddy Walk at the Beach, in Seaside. The weather was perfect. The walk was just the right length.

I got to meet Lucy’s personal Fan Club, little Dru.

Then it was time to walk.

We all gathered for a photo on the stairs that lead to the beach. It felt like a “Where’s Waldo” scene, since most everyone had their Buddy Walk shirts on and I was wearing my signature orange.

Lucy’s buddy, Josiah and his family were there. You may have seen Josiah in “The Great Outdoors” exploring on his crutches or smiling next to Lucy. Josiah and Lucy go WAY back. Josiah’s mom, Gina, was the 77th fetal surgery for spina bifida patient and Lucy and I were the 82nd patients. While on bed rest we got to know each other and kept tabs on the progress of these special kids.

We all made our way to the Convention Center where my Signing Time performance would be. Before singing Caterpillar Dreams, I introduced Josiah to everyone. It was sweet to see him on the screen behind me and to see how much he has grown since we filmed those scenes.

When most everyone had left, I noticed some bumper boats for rent nearby. Lindsey and I put everything in the car and then ran down to rent bumper boats.

There was an option to rent water guns as well. At first we loved the idea, but on second thought… that water looked uncomfortably brown.

We packed up and decided to drive some more. The landscape was eerily familiar and we realized that this must be where they filmed the movie Goonies.

A google search later that evening confirmed that hunch. For what it’s worth Kindergarten Cop was also filmed in that area.

After that we went to the Tillamook Cheese Factory for grilled cheese sandwiches and ice cream cones.

We toured the factory and of course tried out the samples. My favorite? Horseradish Cheddar.

When the factory closed, we drove to Portland, since we were flying out in the morning.

I love Oregon! I know, I have said it before, but I do. That place just speaks to my soul. The greens are so green! The landscape transitions so abrupt. Who puts a beach right next to a forest?

I have loved traveling for the Signing Time events in Salem and Klamath last year and when I was 19, my girl friend, Jessica and I had hopped in my VW Bus and drove to Eugene on a whim.

I am trying to figure out the best way to get more of Oregon? Should we take a week or two and drive the coast this summer? Camp? Camper? Bed & Breakfast? Should we move to the coast for a month? What is the best way to get more Oregon? Should I sign up for the STP 2010 (Seattle to Portland Bike Race).

I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, and even worse I don’t know why! Something is pulling me toward Oregon.

We’re still in Yellowstone, remember?

When we arrived in Mammoth, we saw elk, everywhere.

We hiked the terraces of Mammoth Hot Springs.

The terraces look like ice and snow. Very Superman, don’t you think?

We decorated our pancakes.

We watched Old Faithful and other geysers erupt.

Leah and Lucy became Junior Rangers, with Yellowstone patches and all.

The trip was a complete success! We packed up on Saturday morning to head home… head home for surgery.

Lucy would be admitted on Monday in preparation for surgery on Tuesday. We had it all planned out, remember?

Maybe it was scheduled too tightly. Lucy had to start a clear liquid diet the day we drove home from Yellowstone. Not so yummy. Chicken broth, sprite, juices, Jell-o and that’s about it. She would have a second day of clear liquids and then she would go into the hospital. Well, that didn’t go so well. She got sick. Really sick. I would prefer any one of us get sick, anyone other than Lucy.

Late Saturday night, I was asleep, and I heard Lucy cough. I sat up in bed, “Luce, you ok?” And then I heard it “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
This is not good. Lucy can’t roll over. She can’t sit up. She could choke… aspirate… When Lucy is sick, we are all on high alert, until the threat has passed.

I sprung from bed (truly I sprung, you should have seen it!) I hollered, “AARON!” as I ran. Then he sprung, because you spring when your wife screams your name as she tears down the hallway to your child’s room.

Then we spent the following 24 hours either right by Lucy’s side, or not far from it. It wasn’t pretty. Trust me. (This is the part where you are SO glad that blogs are not scratch and sniff.) Lucy, with the flu is a 4 man job. Someone to hold the bowl. Someone to hold her up. Someone to hold her head up as her little body is wracked. She burst blood vessels in her eyes, from retching so violently.

Poor Lucy. Was it the liquid diet? Stress over the upcoming surgery? Maybe she was just sick with the flu. I know the clear liquid diet was on her mind, because after she would hurl, she would look up at me, smile and announce, “Chicken Sliders! From The Cheesecake Factory!” She was having me make a list of things she wanted to eat once she had recovered from surgery. It was kind of pitiful, really. “RAAAAAAAAAH!…. Peanut Butter Cup Shake!”

She was so tiny, weak and pale… or seemed to be, until she hollered out her next dream food. “Cherry Cheesecake Ice Cream!”

Monday morning I called the hospital to let them know she had been sick. They asked me to bring her in for an evaluation to determine whether or not surgery should be canceled. We packed like we were going in for surgery and a week of recovery.

I told the doctor everything that had happened in the past 48 hours. Then he announced that it would be best to wait and reschedule the surgery.

Lucy had just completed 48 hours of eating nothing but clear liquids and ralphing them up again… and we would have to do it all over again in a few weeks, hopefully without the ralphing.

The doctor left the room. Lucy and I were both tired. She looked at me and said sadly, “But… mom, I’m ready. I’m ready to have surgery.” (Proof that reverse psychology actually works)

We hugged, and then, two very exhausted girls had a little cry.

Then we got our things and went home.

But wait, it can’t end there! That would never do!
(Kei, put away your Kleenex!!!)
As soon as Lucy felt well enough to eat Chicken Sliders from The Cheesecake Factory, which was within a few short hours of canceling her surgery, I booked flights to San Diego!

Early Wednesday morning Lucy, her cousin Clara, and I flew to California and went straight to Sea World for three days!

Lucy and Clara giggled non-stop… for three days! On the flight home, Lucy smiled and said, “Hey mom! That was WAY better than surgery!” Once again, Lucy is right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
P.S. Lucy will start her liquid diet this Saturday. Aaron, Leah and I will join her on the liquid diet for support. The plan is that Lucy will be admitted to the hospital this Monday…

Plans are overrated.

We might just no-show and go to Sea World again!