Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Summary of my life

I'm going to try to summarize my life:

1973. I was born in Puerto Rico. Dad was a chemist at the University of San Juan. Mom was a homemaker. Brother1, Sister1, and Sister2 attended Catholic school.

1974. I remember palm trees and sandy beaches.

1975. Sister3 was born. As I understand it, she died before she was a year old because something was wrong with her liver. Later the same year, Dad quit being a chemist, we moved to Maryland, and Dad started working as an electrician with his brother.

1976-1977. We lived in a trailer next to a drainage pond, at the edge of a forest. For long periods, we had only one working car, no phone, and no working washing machine. I explored the woods, pretended to be a superhero, and got ticks in my hair. I loved drawing pictures and wanted to be an artist when I grew up. I got my first Rubic's Cube. I wanted to go to school like my brother and sisters. I admired them, even though they picked on me. I was very sensitive to criticism and learned to be careful about what I said.

I often begged Mom to read me a story. Mom took me on walks occasionally to visit our neighbors and their kids. Mom would also take me with her while visiting and helping elderly people. If I accidentally bumped my head, Mom would rub my head and say, "Beana beana basharoo." (I later learned that this phrase came from Ireland, and is actually much longer, but that's all I know.)

1978. I started kindergarten. Mom, my sisters, and I were in a car accident. My sisters had scratches and bruises. Because I was not wearing a seat belt, I had a concussion. A hospital bed was moved into the living room of our trailer for Mom. She had a broken thigh and broken ribs. Her thigh-bone didn't heal quickly enough, so she had to have surgery to set the bone with a metal rod. Around the same time, Dad fell off of a ladder at work and broke both heels.

1979. I loved my first grade teacher. In reading circle, I would read ahead of the group and get scolded for not paying attention. My classmates teased me for being short, and I didn't know how to take it. When I asked Mom why God made me short, she said it would make me a nicer person because I know how it feels to be teased. She often said, "Every kick is a boost."

1980. I greatly feared my second grade teacher. She would use a paddle on students who misbehaved. I did not do very well with addition and subtraction because I didn't know how to memorize the answers, and didn't realize that is the only way to master it.

1981. We moved to another county in Maryland, to a house in the suburbs. I hoped this would make it easier for me to make friends. Brother2 was born. At first, I thought he would become a playmate for me. I was disappointed to discover that he would always be eight years younger than me and could not play with me the way I expected. I came to love him anyway. :)

I liked my third grade teacher, but still struggled with math. Dad made me memorize the addition, subtraction, and multiplication tables. At the time, I resented it. But afterwards math class got easier and even enjoyable for me, so I am grateful for it now.

1982. My fourth grade teacher was okay, but she scared me sometimes, with her no-nonsense attitude. My gym teacher humiliated me in front of the whole class. (With her hand on my head, she said, "What's this? A brain-eater. What's it doing? Starving!")

1983. I admired my fifth grade teacher. He reassured me when I was upset. He encouraged us to read and write. I decided that I wanted to be a fiction writer when I grew up, instead of an artist. I was enrolled in a Gifted and Talented program. I enjoyed the Logic component more than the Literature.

After recess on a hot day, I passed out. I woke up in the principal's office and started to feel better. The principal decided to send me to the ER anyway. Dad was happy that I was okay, but annoyed at the principal for sending me to the ER.

At some point, Mom tried working for the county hospital, in the laundry department. She also tried working for a newspaper, placing the advertisements. Eventually, Mom started working at the neighborhood grocery store as a cashier, and stayed there for many years. I remember occasionally rubbing her feet at the end of the day, asking her how her day was. She worried too much about what everyone thought of her.

1984-1985. I started middle school. I started to really enjoy math. I still wasn't making friends very well. I tended to take the path of least resistance, out of fear of rejection. I was horrible at remembering names. In chorus, I discovered an intense fear of singing solo. I was already worrying too much about what other people thought of me. It drove me to tears. I escaped from reality in books. I discovered Piers Anthony, Madeleine L'Engle, and Laura Ingalls Wilder. I wanted to write novels like them, and provide an escape for other people as these authors did for me.

I competed with Brother2 for TV time. My favorite shows were "Star Trek Next Generation" and "Beauty and the Beast" (with Ron Perlman and Linda Hamilton).

During a scoliosis screening, the nurse spent a lot of time with me. She gave me a note to take home, suggesting a doctor visit. Dad took me to our family doctor, an ear-nose-throat doctor. He briefly looked at my back and said I was fine.

1986. I was a late bloomer. I still had little interest in romance. I loved pre-algebra, and knew that I was a minority in that respect.

1987-1991. I started high school. I enjoyed algebra, geometry, trigonometry, pre-calculus, biology, chemistry, and physics. I enjoyed chorus, but still struggled through the solos. I enjoyed the reading assignments, but hated writing book reports. While reading Shakespeare, I discovered the source of many of Dad's quotes, like, "They laugh at scars who never felt a wound." I had more fainting spells, perhaps one or two each year.

The homework load kept me busy from the moment I came home until long after bedtime. At one point, I came up with a great idea: I went to bed as soon as I came home from school and slept eight hours. Then I would do homework while everyone else was asleep. It worked great until Dad made me stop and took me to the doctor. The doctor prescribed B-complex vitamins for fatigue.

Romance started to seem like a good idea. Dad reluctantly drove me to occasional school dances. I enjoyed a few of them, when I didn't allow myself to worry what everyone thought of me. I had a crush on one boy after another, but rarely had the guts to do anything about it. One boy asked me to be his girlfriend, then dumped me two days later. Another boy asked me to be his girlfriend. We were together for about four months. He didn't talk much, and didn't seem to mind me doing a lot of talking. I spent the entire four months telling him all about me. Then he insisted on a kiss. I suddenly realized that I still had no idea who this guy was. I couldn't trust him enough to kiss him. I told him to wait. I tried for a couple of days to get him to tell me about himself, but he wouldn't say much. He kept insisting on a kiss. So I broke up with him.

On the long bus ride, I usually took a nap. One day, there was a substitute bus driver. Two randy boys decided to hang out in my seat with me and the seat in front of mine, and educate me about sex. I should have gotten up and sat in one of the front seats, but I was afraid of being yelled at by the driver for getting up. I smacked their advancing hands and yelled at them to shut up and leave me alone. They tormented me the entire ride home. On the way off the bus, I yelled at the driver, "Thanks for nothing!" At school the next day, I went to the principal's office and reported the two boys' behavior. I believe this was the last straw for them, and they were sent to another school.

1991-1992. I argued with Dad about which college I should go to. I wanted to go to one that touted its creative writing program, but that would have required that I get a student loan. Dad persuaded me to go to UMCP, just like Brother1 and Sister1. I lived with family members, so never needed to live in the dorms.

I got a job at the undergraduate library and made friends with my co-workers. I found that it was a lot easier to make friends in a work environment. I was able to pay my own tuition and expenses, with a little financial help from Dad each year.

I majored in English, because my plan was to be a fiction writer as soon as I graduated. I took a creative writing class, but the teacher did not approve me to take the next level of creative writing. I was heartbroken. I switched my concentration to technical writing, because it seemed the next most interesting concentration in the English major. I entered a technical writing contest and won $500 with a partner. I was amazed that I could make money from something so easy.

I took calculus and loved it. My advisor suggested that I change my major and pursue a career that used my math skills, but I stubbornly refused. My new plan was to become a technical writer and work on my fiction writing in my spare time.

1993. Mom and Dad separated, at Mom's insistence. Dad moved to College Park to live with me, Brother1, and Sister1. The last few times that I went home to visit Mom, I worried about her sanity. She complained about her co-workers doing petty, mean things to her that couldn't be proven. I wish I had followed up on my concerns.

Mom died in a car accident. Apparently, someone was drag-racing while Mom and a friend of hers were on their way home from grocery-shopping. Many of Mom's siblings and their families attended the funeral. There would be a trial in a few years. Dad quit drinking and smoking. I am proud of him for that.

I took philosophy classes, including a "God and Cosmos" class. I decided that I still believed in God, because I needed to believe that everything happens for a good reason.

Sister1 discovered my S-shaped spinal curvature when I was wearing a swimsuit. I got x-rays and confirmed my scoliosis. I had already reached my full height, so it was too late for braces. My curves weren't bad enough yet for surgery (both curves 40 degrees). I was angry at the family doctor for not ordering x-rays, and at myself for accepting the doctor's neglect.

At some point while in college, I fainted again. (I'd had a cold and was taking over-the-counter medicine for it. I wasn't hungry so I hadn't had much to eat or drink.) Sister1 went with me to the ER. They gave me an IV and rehydrated me. I was mad at myself for being so stupid. I know better than to let myself get dehydrated!

1994. Sister2, now a Navy Corpsman in California, discovered that she was pregnant. She decided to be a single mom. She managed to get transferred to Maryland so she could be closer to family. At the time, I was living with Dad and Brother2. She moved in with us. I committed myself to helping her as much as I could. Shortly after Niece was born, we (Sister2, Niece, and I) moved to another apartment. I became Niece's "other mom" in many ways. It was a blessing to be such a big part of her life, as she learned to crawl and talk.

One day, Sister2 and I decided to go see a movie. Brother1 came over to babysit Niece, who was just starting to roll over. Sister2 and I started to give Brother1 instructions for the babysitting job. Brother1 got annoyed that we were giving him instructions. He felt that he didn't need instructions. During the discussion, he left Niece on the couch, and she rolled off. I dived to catch her. Brother1 sarcastically said, "Good catch!" We started arguing. Sister2 told us to take the argument elsewhere, because it was upsetting Niece. We went to my bedroom. We both got angry and angrier. Eventually, he hit me and I spun, landing face-down on my bed. I froze, not knowing what to do. He kicked me and left the apartment. I eventually forgave him, but did not forget.

1995. I interned in DC as a copy-editor. The job involved a lot more calling up clients and asking them questions than copy-editing. Towards the end, they asked me to write a Standard Operating Procedure, which I was able to use as a writing sample. I went to a campus career fair and arranged for job interviews. A software company in Columbia, MD hired me as an entry-level technical writer. I'll call them Employer1.

1996-1997. I moved into a townhouse within walking distance to work, renting a room from MLC, the lady who lived there. Niece was almost two, and it broke my heart to move away from her and Sister2, but I had to move on with my life. Sister2 and Niece moved in with Dad.

I bought a car, cut my hair short, and had my ears pierced, all for the first time in my life. Made friends with my co-workers, especially one who was 20 years older than me, with the same birthday, and the same first name as Brother1. We called each other Twin. He took me under his wing. I learned how to use WordPerfect. I tried to stay in touch with the friends I had made at college.

I tried to get into the habit of writing an hour every day, but it was hard to stop writing after only an hour. I submitted a couple of short stories to contests, but didn't win anything.

Brother2 invited all of us to attend a high school play in which he was an actor. We all sat in the back, with an aisle in front of us. Niece kept quiet but would not stay seated. She ran up and down the aisle in front of us. Sister2 decided to let her do this, because it wasn't bothering anyone. Brother1 suddenly got up, picked up Niece, and yelled, "Sit down and shut up!" As he yelled, he slammed her into a seat. The play stopped and the whole audience turned to look at us. Niece started crying. We all grabbed our coats and left. Brother1 apologized. Everyone forgave him except me, because they had not seen him lose his temper like this before. I wrote him a letter, asking him to get professional help for his violent temper. If he didn't get help, I would stop speaking to him. He refused, so I stopped speaking to him.

I attended the last day of the trial (for Mom's accident) with Dad. After the trial was over, Dad approached the defendant and said, "For what it's worth, I forgive you." The man seemed grateful and gave Dad a hug. I'm proud of Dad for doing that.

MLC introduced me to a man who was handsome inside and out. AF was respectful and kept me laughing. He was my first kiss. By the time I realized that he was a smoker, it was too late. I was too far gone in love!

I moved to a one-bedroom apartment. AF asked if he could move in. I told him to wait a year. I felt that I needed to live on my own for a year, so that I wouldn't become too dependant on other people. I wanted to avoid some of Mom's problems, and she had gotten married straight out of college.

1997-1999. After a year, I moved to a two-bedroom apartment and AF moved in. We were intimate, but there was a line we did not cross. He respected my wish to wait until marriage.

At Employer1, Twin and many other people were laid off. I was retained only because I earned less. I was angry. I quit and was hired by another software company in Columbia. I tried to stay in touch with the friends I had made at college and Employer1.

At Employer2, at first I was assigned to recapture graphics and make callouts for the existing documentation. I was proud of my work. I made new friends. I learned how to use Adobe FrameMaker.

When my boss finally had time to give me real writing assignments, he started to show disappointment in the quality of my work, but he refused to give me enough guidance. I was placed on probation. He suggested that I consider another career. He said I could either work on a particular project, or look for another job. Out of fear, I hedged my bets and tried to do both. Before my probation was up, my boss gave me a choice between quitting and being fired. When I complained about his lack of guidance, he said that I had been hired as a Technical Writer, not a Junior Technical Writer. I chose to quit.

1999. After several days of job-hunting, I started a new technical writing job in Rockville. At Employer3, my new boss was much easier to work with. She gave me the guidance that I needed. She compared me to Zena, the Warrior Princess. I enjoyed my work. I made new friends and tried to keep in touch with existing friends.

I was still not speaking to Brother1. He did not respect my stand. He sent me an e-mail message, in Portuguese. With the help of a co-worker and Babel Fish, I translated it. He was apparently calling me cheap.

After a camping trip and dinner at a restaurant, AF proposed marriage. At first I didn't realize what his speech was leading up to, and I pointed out food in his teeth. We took a walk. When he got down on his knees, I finally understood, and said yes.

2000. I was diagnosed with under-active thyroid and started taking Synthroid (levo-thyroxine). To my surprise, I learned that Dad and Sister1 also have the same thing.

Sister1 and I visited Ireland. We saw Galway, Limerick, and Dublin, and stayed at a bed-and-breakfast in each place. In Galway, while taking a walk, Sister1 and I heard a plaintive "meow" and discovered a kitten near the side of the road. We carried it to a nearby farm and gave it to someone there.

I still was not speaking to Brother1, but wanted his wife and son to attend the wedding, so I reluctantly sent him a wedding invitation. After months of planning and worrying, AF and I were married on a beautiful fall day. One of my college friends was my maid of honor. For our honeymoon, we went to Cancun, Mexico.

2001. We bought a house, made friends with the new neighbors, and adopted two cats. I continued writing in my spare time, and worried about whether I ever would be able to start a fiction career.

Twin stopped responding to my e-mail messages. The messages didn't bounce. He just stopped resonding. I worried for years that I had made him angry somehow.

2002. Employer3 was acquired by Employer4. AF and I started trying for a baby, and to our surprise, succeeded right away. The first trimester gave me nausea.

2003. The second trimester was great. The third trimester, I felt like a whale. My blood pressure was high for months, but not bad enough for me to stop working. I had to wear support hose and wrist braces. AF and my college-friend threw a surprise baby shower for me. My co-workers threw another surprise baby shower for me.

When I went into labor, my blood pressure was too high, so they gave me magnesium sulfate. That stuff made me feel weak, half-blind, and stupid. I was grateful for the epidural. I endured three hours of pushing. Then, the doctor decided to help me. One doctor pushed on my belly while the other used suction to pull the baby out.

JF was born, 6 pounds, 13 ounces, and challenged the medical community from the start. His left foot was folded flat against his shin. Something was weird with his right shoulder, so that his arm hung behind him. He had a laceration on the top/back of his head that the doctors wouldn't explain. He went to the NICU. We both stayed in the hospital a few days. I learned how to use a breast pump.

Sometimes I cried for the least provocation, because my hormones were wacky. I knew that dropping something on the floor was no big deal, but my emotions made it a big deal, and the tears flowed beyond my control.

While still in the hospital, I tolerated having my blood drawn frequently to check magnesium levels. I asked for blood to be drawn for a thyroid test, because I had read that thyroid levels change within a day or two of childbirth, but the doctor refused.

The first full day home, I felt extremely tired. I had to stop and sit down, halfway down the steps. Tired doesn't really describe it, and neither does exhausted, drained, or worn out. I was hypothyroid and angry at the doctor for putting off the thyroid test. After an appointment, my Synthroid level was increased, and I started to feel better.

My co-workers visited me at home and brought me food. Employer4 was acquired by Employer5. I missed a company picnic because I wasn't checking e-mail.

JF had a strong "suck" and made my nipples sore. Breastfeeding was very painful for me, but I endured it. We paid $160 for a lactation consultant to visit us. She showed me how to get a better latch, measured JF's weight before and after a feeding to confirm that he was getting enough milk, gave me a nipple shield, and sold us a Haberman Feeder. The feeder was designed to reward a more gentle suck. I attended a weekly breastfeeding support group until my three-month maternity leave was up.

AF quit working when JF was born, and was a stay-at-home dad. JF's right shoulder was fine in a few days. His left foot was fine in a few weeks, with stretches. His head laceration healed well.

I began to worry about my role in life. Why am I here? Anyone can be a wife, mom, technical writer, and so on. What am I here for, that no-one else can do? And is there a way that I can fill this role and make a living at the same time? I used to think that my role would be fiction writing, but that career plan was moved to a back-burner, now that I had no spare time to write.

2004. JF babbled and crawled. We took too many pictures. At about ten months, JF started to get sick with a fever once a month. The pediatrician was dismissive about the problem and frustrated AF to no end. We switched pediatricians. The new one referred us to Children's Hospital for immunity testing, which didn't reveal any problems. An allergy test revealed nothing.

2005. JF continued to get sick about once a month. He spent his second birthday in the hospital for rotovirus and dehydration.

We gave the two cats back to the agency we had adopted them from, because they were too much for us to handle (one needed medicine every other day and the other had litterbox issues), and we were worried that they were contributing to JF's illnesses. We started to worry about JF's cognitive development.

AF broke his wrist. He had been practicing kick-boxing on a dummy over a concrete pad. His left foot got caught on the dummy's shoulder, and he landed on his right wrist. (He's left-handed.)

My boss quit Employer5. This was the boss who had given me the guidance that I needed. We had become good friends. She had found a much better job, doing the work that she wanted to do (writing rather than managing writers), but I will miss her. Employer5 hired another writer to be our team-lead. I began to worry about whether I should continue to work for Employer5. This company is huge and I don't trust the upper-management. I continued to worry about my role in life.

After interviewing a writer who wanted to be hired by Employer5, my phone rang. It was Twin. The one who had stopped talking to me years ago. He had called to ask for an inside scoop on his friend's interview. I was hurt that he would stop talking to me for no apparent reason, and was now trying to take advantage of our previous friendship.

I had a scoliosis checkup. The doctor suggested surgery. I started researching scoliosis surgery and surgeon-shopping.

We enrolled JF in daycare and AF went back to work. We were hoping the daycare environment, especially the presence of other kids, would help him catch up with his peers developmentally. JF continued to get sick, but now it was more frequently and with more symptoms. He had croup multiple times.

2006. I visited two scoloisis surgeons, Dr. Laurman and Dr. Tozzi. Tozzi recommended Laurman. Tozzi also made a good point: Five years from now, JF will be eight instead of three years old, but there probably won't be very much of a change in my scoliosis. I decided to postpone surgery for five years.

We continued to worry about JF's health and development. We called the county preschool education program (PEP), for children with disabilities. New allergy tests revealed that he is allergic to trees, molds, dust, and cat. A few weeks later, he was diagnosed with asthma. PEP evaluated JF and found that his expressive language was at less than twelve months. That is, he is three years old, but communicates like a one-year-old. They said he might be slightly autistic. They created an IEP for him and he started going to PEP class. His PEP teacher is wonderful. He has learned to ask for things by saying, "I want ___." His filling in the blank was an improvement over, "More?" "More what?" "More?"

I complained to my doctor about headaches. I get them sometimes when I laugh, cough, or bend over. Not every time, but sometimes. When it happens, it's an intense headache that lasts a few seconds. At first, the doctor prescribed antibiotics, in case it was a sinus infection. That didn't help, so the doctor ordered an MRI. I was diagnosed with a Chiari Type I malformation, also called Arnold Chiari Malformation or ACM. This explains my headaches, my fainting in grade schoool, my low blood pressure, and I wonder whether it explains my scoliosis.

At Employer5, I had become good friends with our new team-lead. Her job had become managerial in everything but name, and was stressful enough to impact her health. She quit. She had found a much better job, doing the work that she wanted to do (writing rather than managing writers). I will miss her, too. I continued to worry about working for Employer5 and about my role in life. A fortune cookie said, "You could prosper in the field of medical research."

Just days before Christmas, AF had a work-injury. He had been opening boxes with box-cutter. He had just changed the blade, and wasn't expecting it to cut the box so easily. It sliced into the box, and then his right forearm. The cut required seven stitches.

Sorry this turned out to be so long.