Day # 6740 . . . Life for all of us Torreys has been pretty great lately — full of adventure, connection, and a few unexpected surprises. Last weekend, Mymom and I had the pleasure of attending the ALD Connect Annual … Continue reading
beyond lucky
Category Archives: family
9497 days
Day +6277 (Transplant)
Day +9497 (Life)
9497 days ago we welcomed JackO into the world. I hadn’t been sure of many decisions in my life, but becoming a mom was a choice I made clearly, without hesitation. Being Jack’s mother (and Anna’s mom too, but today is about Jack) has been the greatest honor of my life. He’s taught me perspective and strength and determination and love.
And, I’m not alone. Our boy without words, is a gifted teacher.
Friends and family have asked what Jack would like for his birthday. Jack is hard to shop for — he’s a person who values things that aren’t things. He values music and dancing and sunsets and walks and family and friends and laughter and smiles.
So here’s a gift you can give to our boy — Please take a moment today to make someone in your life smile. This world needs more smiles. Do it in honor of Jack!
HaPpY 26th bIrThDaY JackO!!!!
Love, Momo
ALD Family Weekend!
I realize I haven’t written in a while. Work is one excuse and we had JackO fighting a monster cold/flu thing for a couple of weeks. Luckily, he’s good as new. I promise to fill everyone in on everything JACK … Continue reading
Special Siblings
As many of you know, I have a favorite daughter. It’s not just that she shares my love of Anthropologie and Madewell or that it’s fun watching her excel academically. I’m in awe of her strength and resilience and her ability to know what people around her need — especially her brother.
When Jack first got diagnosed, Anna was six years old. Our family changed overnight. Her life went from an idealic suburban childhood to her family scattering. We were completely focused on Jack – getting him treatment — saving his life. I don’t really remember much about what Anna did that summer. I know she took some classes at a local camp and that friends included her on many fun summer activities. Ivete arrived from Brazil. I’m not even sure how that happened but we will forever be grateful to her.
Sometimes at night while Jack’s hospital room was quiet, my mind would have a moment to think about something other than blood counts and GVHD testing I would wonder how Anna was coping and how all these changes were going to affect her life. Our nurses allowed us to bring Anna into Jack’s isolation room and turned a blind eye when she would spend the night. She and I would order delicious Dominican food, watch High School Musical and fight over my favorite blanket. There were times she would have me hold her tight and whisper questions she was scared to ask.
Dan and I agreed that we needed to be honest with her. She had lost the luxury of innocents.
And that summer was just the beginning. Jack came home and his life had changed dramatically, and it meant that all of our lives needed to adjust.
I know we should have done more for Anna, but those of you have gone through ALD (or any other complicated medical or emotional issue) diagnosis or treatment or the aftereffects – you know that the needs of the other kids in the family sometimes get lost.
Anna has thrived in her life and so many of the special siblings I’ve come to know over the years have also been quite remarkable. I’ve wondered what helps them and what can hurt them. I spent much of my time in graduate school researching these special siblings and appreciating that there is so much we can’t control when going through these complicated times BUT there are some things that we as parents/grandparents/friends can do to help these kids.
ALD Connect has recognized the importance of these special siblings and asked Anna and I if we would host a webinar discussing the topic. Once our community discovered we were working on this project, I’ve heard from countless people sharing their stories. Newborn screening families, early diagnosis, late diagnosis, siblings of folks with AMN and siblings of women with our disease. We are doing our best to represent all potential circumstances, but also hope to have time for discussion during the webinar. Time to learn from other families.
Please consider joining the Webinar this Wednesday at 7 pm. I hope this is the first of many.
CLICK HERE to register for the event.
Love, Jess
where did the tears come from?
Every month I speak to medical students from Rutgers University. It’s a small group of third year students who are in their pediatric rotation. I’m a “patient representative” who is there to share our family’s story and the good and bad of what we’ve experienced with doctors. I look forward to these Zoom sessions and am always impressed with the students and appreciate being able to sneak in as much as I can about ALD — the often missed signs of ALD and the importance of newborn screening.
After we go around doing introductions, I share the video that bluebird bio made about our family. It’s a great way for the students to learn a bit about our journey and “meet the family”. While the video plays, I usually take the opportunity to slip away from my desk to make a cup of tea or check in with Dan and Jack. Last night I sat and watched the video with the students.
I found myself in tears.
I did regain my composure by the time the video was over and got through the next hour and a half managing to hold it together as I shared stories of working with many exceptional doctors and some who were lacking empathy and/or the ability to recognize when they may need more education about our not as rare as you might think disease. I always try to be approachable and relaxed, using humor to make everyone as comfortable as possible as I share stories about witnessing our son unravel, searching for answers, receiving a life-threatening diagnosis, watching as our once typical, healthy son fight for his life, and learning to adapt to a life that none of us ever imagined. I’ve done this enough that I can let the words just flow. I did a fine job, but I couldn’t help feeling distracted.
After the session, I got up and went directly into Jack’s room, knowing that time with the boy would brighten my mood. We sat and watched The Impractical Jokers and laughed until it was time for us to get ready for bed. I did feel much better after spending time with him. Jack is doing great. He loves his adult program and time with his other mothers AND can comfortably live at home. His health continues to be stable and, except for an occasional tear shed while watching those ASPCA ads, he always has a bright smile on his face.
Although I felt better, as I tried to fall asleep last night, I kept thinking about my reaction to watching the video. My only explanation for yesterday’s tears is that it’s been a while since I let myself really focus on what we went through 15 years ago. Sure – I share it, but I remove myself as much as I can from the story. I fill in as many of the dark spots with humor and light. It’s how I survive.
If I were my own therapist, I would ask myself how this strategy is working, and I think my answer would be that it’s working pretty well — I don’t want to live in the dark. I want to live in the light. I want to enjoy all the good our family has experienced and not waste time with the what ifs. BUT maybe sometimes I should consider allowing myself some time to be frustrated or mad or sad. I’m not sure how or when, but I will sure try to avoid doing it in front of a screen full of students.
Love, Jess
SOMA
Lately, every time we travel Dan and I have the “could we live here?” conversation. Is there enough hiking for Dan? Are there enough resources for Jack? How close would we be to an airport? Would we be close enough to Anna? Could I find clients?
It’s not that we do not like SOMA – that’s South Orange/Maplewood for you out of towneres – we LOVE this community. It’s just that we’ve been feeling like, after 25 years (and two kids, three homes and four dogs), we might be ready to start our next chapter. The kids are done with our school district, taxes are high, many of our friends have left, and we no longer need an easy commute to NYC (the crypto world doesn’t require much time in the office and everyone/everywhere needs therapy). We’ve talked about Block Island, the Jersey shore, Massachusetts, Puerto Rico, the Chesapeake and Maine. They all have their benefits, but will anywhere ever be able to compete with SOMA?
This week, we’ve had a reminder of just how special our community is. We were asked to be interviewed by SOMA Living Magazine for their October issue. Each month they choose a local family to highlight and an old friend recommended us. After sitting through the interview and being asked about our journey since we moved from Brooklyn, we found ourselves wondering why/how we could ever leave our beautiful/progressive gem of a town(s). We shared countless stories about our town(s) – the schools that educated our brilliant daughter and supported our son without question, the restaurants that draw people from all over NJ, South Mountain Reservation which allows Dan to disappear when he needs time with trees, and the people – soooo many stories about the people of SOMA. For 25 years, SOMA and it’s people have helped us celebrate wonderful days and held us up during our dark times. These towns are beautiful and progressive and crunchy and accepting.
We know that our future will ultimately lead us to a move, but for now — we are here. I need to get my supervised hours before I can hang my own shingle, Jack has wonderful support thanks to Universal and his other mothers, and we are not yet sure where Anna will land for medical school. We know in a few years we will make a move, but instead of dreaming of our next home, I’m going to start really appreciating what we have here.
Thanks SOMA!!!
Love, Jess
I will be sure to share the article in October!!!
Interesting = Funny
Life with Jack is always interesting. If you see us out and about you might notice some quirky behavior. Watching a balding, 23-year-old dude being fed by his parents or how when Jack walks, he often takes a giant hop every few steps. His behavior is unusual enough that people sometimes pause before quickly looking away OR giving him a broad smile – we prefer the smile. It’s the stuff that happens without getting people’s attention that’s sometimes the most interesting. If you can learn to think of interesting as funny, it can make life much more manageable. Saturday was one of those days filled with interesting/funny.
We started the day with a beautiful hike in Rodman’s Hollow and then went off to The Oar to get some lunch. A two hour wait left us driving around trying to find an alternative. The Kittens had a line to the street and the Beach Head didn’t have any tables. Finally, we found a good spot where we’d never been with a table for three available. When we got to the table, I asked Dan if he could take Jack to the bathroom. Dan shook his head, “No need. He just went while we were waiting in line. Remind me that we need to wash his shoes when we get home.”
I looked out the window and saw that it was starting to rain. I figured that Mother Nature was taking care of the clean-up and wet shorts at the beach aren’t so unusual. Oh well — we just ordered lunch and all had a good laugh.
That night we met old friends to watch the sunset and enjoyed some delicious drinks and fun conversation before deciding it was time for us to go get some dinner. As we were leaving, we realized that Jack had once again left his mark. Going home to change him was a possibility but we were starving. Using the bathroom at the rather fancy location risked them knowing that what was spilled on a chair was not chardonnay. It was dark and nobody was in the parking lot so I handed Dan Jack’s bag and told him I would stand guard. Five minutes later we were on our way to dinner as if nothing had happened. We had another laugh.
People sometimes ask how we manage our complicated lives. Being a special family isn’t always easy, but if you can have a sense of humor and not fear a little pee, then you can do just about anything. AND Block Island – with all it’s magic, relaxed people, and dark parking lots – makes it that much easier!
We’re enjoying our last couple of days here on Block Island, then seeing friends in MA before heading back to reality. We’ve miss Anna, but this has been a wonderful week. Thank you PopPop and Sue!
Love, Jess
PS If anyone knows of adult diapers that actually work, please let us know🤪
Do you feel ready?
When will we feel ready?
Most days I feel like COVID is over. Besides grabbing my mask to walk into Target or the doctor’s office, COVID seems to be a thing of the past. I watch the news and hear stories about outbreaks of the Delta variant and know that people are still getting sick around the world, but here – in our little northeast, suburban bubble – we’re starting to relax. Everyone we know has been vaccinated and I don’t know anyone who has been sick for months.
So why are waiting to send Jack back into the real world?
We are traveling again, we are eating out, we are having friends over and even letting them inside the house. We no longer wash down our groceries or cover ourselves in hand sanitizer every five minutes. There are days that go by that I don’t worry about much, including Was that a hot flash or a fever?!?!?
Still – I’m worried about sending Jack back into the real world.
Jack graduated from high school from our driveway last May and at the time the adult program he was due to start was closed to in-person clients. It was closed for over a year, and we got rather used to this new, slower pace. Jack gets to sleep in and hang out with Maria and her family. He gets to take walks and spends time in the pool. He seems content. I know that he would love to spend some time with his old buddies and perhaps he might be a little tired of his loving family, but every time I think about a bus pulling into the driveway and taking him off to a day program, I start to panic. How many people will he be with throughout the day? Has everyone been vaccinated? Who is going to feed him, and will they wash their hands . . . for twenty full seconds . . . or more?
I know all parents can relate. Many felt that way the first time they dropped their babies off at day-care. Leaving your precious love in someone else’s hands can be scary. At almost 23 years old, Jack is still my precious love. As much as I researched the program and am very impressed with everything that they’ve done to protect their clients, I can’t seem to pull the trigger. I’m worried about new variants and careless coughs and a lot of other What ifs?. I think I ‘m also a little worried that if we send him back that somehow, we’re jinxing everything for EVERYONE (I’m sure my professors would have a field-day over that ridiculous sense of power)!!
Is it nuts if we wait until September? Isn’t September a good time for us all to dive back into real life again? Anna will be heading back for her last term at Hopkins and Dan will start going into the City a couple of days a week. I’m starting my internship in-person at a clinic in Newark. Waiting until September will allow a little more time to see what’s going on, and it’s right around the corner — RIGHT?
Writing this has made me feel like I’m being a little cautious. I reached out to them and next week Jack, Maria and I are going to go see the adult program in person. Perhaps it will make me breathe a little easier. I still think September sounds good, but who knows!
I’ll keep everyone posted. Meanwhile, please tell us — Do you feel ready?
Love, Jess
Christmas 2020
Christmas was okay, it just didn’t feel like Christmas.
We did get to enjoy Mymom’s famous sausage/spinach lasagna on Christmas Eve and woke up Christmas morning to made french toast and opened gifts. We ate and drank and listened to Phil Spector’s A Christmas Gift to You All. We spoke with family and friends via Zoom. We even got to spent the day after Christmas like every year — in our PJs watching movies and playing games. The holiday was lovely, but it just wasn’t the same.
The lack of other people felt strange. We were lucky to be able to spend time with my parents (they are our pod, although we are still careful). Our tiny table of six was filled with delicious food and lively conversation, it just felt a little festive then Christmas should be.
The entire holiday season feels a little underwhelming. We weren’t able to see our beautiful nieces and nephews or party with the extended family. There were no December Saturday nights where we Uber from one party to another. There were no lunches with my girlfriends to escape from holiday shopping. There will be no party with close friends to ring in the new year. I didn’t even have the heart or the energy to send out a holiday card.
COVID was the Grinch that stole the holidays.
We keep saying to ourselves that next year will be different. It better be. We need to fill this house again! 2020 has taught us all a lot about appreciating the small things AND that nature is powerful and sometimes cruel. Lesson learned 2020 — now let’s move onto 2021 with a new vaccine, a new president and (hopefully) tons of time with friends and family!!!
hApPy NeW yEaR!!!!!!!!!!
Love, Jess
Holidays + COVID = 0
Not sure how I can feel so exhausted when I do so little. Each morning I write a list of what I hope to accomplish. Some days go by where I don’t complete anything, so I return to the list and add things like — shower, walk the dogs, feed Jack — just so I can cross a couple of things off the list. With the holidays around the corner, my daily list gets longer and less seems to be getting done. Today, instead of Christmas shopping for the family, I ordered some bras and an eyebrow kit (not even sure what that is).
Love, Jess
smiles and duct tape 