Embrace the Balance.

My Little Guy was formally diagnosed with ADHD. We were prepared for the diagnosis, and to be honest, didn't really expect anything else to come out of our pediatrician's mouth. The next steps -- creating a treatment plan of action -- were where the difficult decision lay. Or so I expected.

Pre-diagnosis, my husband and I had thought we'd never put one of our sons on medication for 'behavior issues.' We both were guilty of being sadly ignorant of  ADHD realities, and also both adhered strictly to the 'boys will be boys' philosophy.  We believed that there were certain traits that all boys have, and that parents grossly over-medicated just because they didn't want to deal with a willful, exuberant child. (In hindsight, I could just kick myself for making such ignorant judgements. Especially now as I am experiencing firsthand how much those judgements hurt).

But, medication is exactly what our doctor recommended.  And in spite of our initial apprehension (and misguided opinions), we followed his advice.

I have heard personal stories and read countless articles about drug therapy since ADHD came into our lives.  How choosing to medicate is a really tough a decision; one article about how meds are SO bad for your child, and then the next tells you how meds are the only thing that works -- every parent and doctor (and unfortunately, random woman in the grocery store) has an opinion on the good or evil of ADHD meds. I was prepared for a long, drawn-out decision-making process, filled with lists of pros and cons, and hours of mulling it over.  But, in reality, once our doctor made his recommendations, I knew almost immediately it was the right thing to do for our family.

There are many reasons why choosing medical science to help our son was the path we chose.  1.) We trust our pediatrician; he's been the boys' doctor since the day they were born.  2.) The effects of the medication are not cumulative and completely reversible; if we change our minds, we can take him off the meds right away.  3.) Drug therapy doesn't have to be long term; if as a child, he needs medication to succeed in school (academically AND socially) so be it -- he has far more options for modeling his life to deal with ADHD as an adult.

But looking back now, I know I was always at peace with the decision to medicate, certainly for the reasons above, but also because of who I am -- a believer in technology, science and modern medicine.

When I was 18, I was diagnosed with Osteo-Rheumatoid Arthritis. It was an enormous struggle and an incredibly tough road at first. But, I was able to live my life and meet my goals and do the things I'd always dreamed about because I found the right medication that stopped the pain and let me experience life. When I was 32, I had a stroke. Although I don't like to necessarily think about it, I almost died.  But I didn't. I had surgery to remove part of my cerebellum that was possible thanks to medical science. I am a prime example of what medical technology and advancements can do -- it made me who I am.  Because of it, I still AM.

We have come a long way from using leeches and doctors not washing their hands before procedures and having polio and dying from illnesses that could be cured by a simple antibiotic. Modern medicine has done amazing things for physical conditions, from easily treating what were once fatal diseases to providing veterans with prosthetic limbs. Why isn't science as widely accepted as a way to treat mental disorders? I mean, if it's within my power to give my boy's 'race car brain' even a little bit of the relief I feel when taking my arthritis meds, isn't it worth a shot?

Of course, I am absolutely not saying there isn't a place for holistic treatment of illness. (We have begun our son in play therapy to address his ADHD in addition to his medication.) I also try to eat as 'cleanly' as possible and think a person's diet is better the more natural and chemical-free it is. (We have restricted the dyes and nitrites in my son's food.)  I definitely believe in the healing power of Mother Nature -- but to be sure, I believe in the strength of science as well.

We as humans (and part of nature) have developed the capacity for inventing miracles that help us (sometimes even save us).

Embrace the balance.

Happy Anniversary...

I am celebrating a very special anniversary today. It has been seven years for me...and my brain.

Seven years ago, on July 14, 2005, I suffered from cerebral infarction. (Also known as the big, bad 'S' word - STROKE.)  Needless to say, it rocked me, and my family, to the core.  It was an incredibly frightening, uncertain, out-of-control time for all of us.  But, more and more, it has started to seem like it was all a bad dream.

As my brain and I move further and further away from IT, I can't help but becoming increasingly incredulous that it happened at all.  Could that have been me?  Was I really the one laying in ICU? Nah, couldn't be!! I work out religiously! I care for two rambunctious, active little boys every day! There's no way I could have been the broken, helpless girl in that hospital seven years ago. It just doesn't seem possible.

But, as my brain and I are discovering, we must remember.  We have to think about IT.  As I said, I was scared out of my wits (or unconscious) during that period in July seven years ago.  But there are so many things I learned from IT that we, my brain and I, have to always hold on to.

Life is short.  I had a conversation just yesterday with my father about this very thing.  During IT, it became perfectly clear that it was imperative to make the most of every single second you have.  Not only should you spend your time doing what you love, but making time for those you love, too.  It's almost criminal to think that you'll always have time to do that at some point down the line...unfortunately, you just may not.

As adults, we all have to do things that aren't the most fun, or that we don't necessarily want to.  That's just reality.  But, my healed brain and I are here to tell you - you've got to get your priorities straight.  Don't worry about bigger cars, bigger houses, shinier jewelry - worry about making sure that everyone who counts knows that you love them. Because you tell them, and you show them.

Seven years is a long time.  So while IT may become fuzzy memories (and I am pretty glad about that, to tell you the truth), I will always strive to live the lessons it taught me, each and every day. And because of that, I am not a victim of a stroke...I will always be a stroke survivor.

Happy seven years of surviving and thriving, Brain! :)

Five Years and Counting...

Five years ago today, I was living with my husband and the big guy at my parents' house. Our home was being remodeled and expanded, and we were staying with them during the construction. The day started much like any other. We were sitting in the family room, enjoying a little raisin toast, watching the then 18-month-old big guy run around, and following the "Today" show's continuing coverage of the previous week's London bombings.

As we (my mother, husband, son & I) were enjoying the morning, I started to get a ringing in my ears. It was not the normal ringing that everyone gets occasionally. It was so loud, it drowned out everything, the television, my toddler, everything. I started to panic and exclaimed to my husband, "I can't move!!" and indeed, I felt like I couldn't move my arms or legs. However, according to my husband, I was flailing wildly, thrashing all of my limbs about.

My husband called an ambulance and I was taken to the hospital right away. We spent the entire day in the Emergency Room where none of the doctors could figure out what was wrong with me. I was in and out of consciousness while they ran myriad tests. They were reluctant to give me a CT scan to check me out neurologically, because I was too young for that type of ailment. Finally, at the end of the day when the doctors had exhausted all of their options, they scheduled me for a CT scan. Turns out I'd had a stroke with a cerebellar infarction, which had caused a clot in my brain.

I was pretty much out of it as they came to this diagnosis, and my parents were home taking care of my son. The neurologist and the neurosurgeon were at odds on how to treat me. The neurosurgeon took my husband into a utility closet, and basically said to him, "If we don't operate on your wife, she is going to die." My poor husband, he said he immediately wanted to call a 'grown-up' because he didn't know what to do. He decided to sign the consent papers and go ahead with the surgery.

To make a long story short, they put me into a medically-induced coma, performed the surgery to remove part of my cerebellum and I stayed in the ICU for about a week. While this was an excruciating time for my family, I barely remember any of it. The recovery wasn't too bad either. I was in physical therapy for about a month, and then I was released. I have a huge scar from the base of my skull to about half way up my head but that's it. I have absolutely no residual effects.

I would never, ever say I am glad this happened, but I am thankful for the awesome perspective it gave me, and how it demonstrated what is important. My family, friends, health, happiness are really all that matters in this life. It also really taught me that things I thought were so vital, like material possessions or petty jealousies, really aren't worth it.

So, five years later, not only going strong, but almost like my stroke never even happened. I never much thought about the phrase, "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" until this. I'm happy to say I'm living proof.