Steve

Today is Steve's birthday - I'm writing this blog to remind him that it's his birthday and to embarrass him just a little.  I couldn't resist including this picture -- I swear, the Mary Washington College admissions office should have used us in their brochure.  I also think Steve looks like he's running for office.

I've spent 20 birthdays with Steve.  I had only known Steve for a month when he celebrated #23 and something had come up in conversation about lead pencils vs. mechanical pencils (he uses the latter).  I think it might have been a Seinfeld reference, but I bought him a pack of lead pencils.  To this day, he's never used those pencils, but there they sit, year after year, front and center in our desk drawer.

The following year, when we were "officially dating" , I tried to throw him a surprise party and failed pretty miserably, but Steve made me feel special for trying and the party was just plain, silly fun. When someone has your back like that and makes you feel loved and special - on his birthday - you know you've found something, someone worth keeping.

The years went by and we celebrated Steve's birthday with fun day trips, weekend getaways and all kinds of live concerts.  It's funny because those experiences, along with many others, really helped to define our partnership.  Having evolved from reading paper maps, to first generation GPS devices, to our present-day smart phones has earned us points in both how-to and how-not-to communicate.  Living in new places, knowing no one, having to figure everything out on our own has taught us a lot about each other as individuals and as a couple.

Now, as parents who get strung-out at times, Steve needs to be reminded about calendar items such as his birthday.  So, when he starts thinking about it, he usually starts thinking about how to celebrate his birthday through his children's eyes.  His sister reminded me that last year, a significant snow storm came in and Steve called our local cupcake shop hoping he could still get some cupcakes for his birthday.  He was really excited when the owner said, "come on down!" and he took Jack on an adventure in the snow to get those cupcakes.  Those were some really yummy cupcakes.

Last night, we went out to dinner and then Steve took Jack to see the new Lego Movie.  Today, we'll head out for breakfast and then go to the Boston Home Show.  Steve's love of This Old House and other home improvement shows is just another reason why I love him so.  Because of a fortunate raffle win by his boss, Steve will take Jack to the Celtics game later this evening.  Our time together is the best gift and I am so very grateful.

Steve, thank you for being such a wonderful husband and father to Jack and Anna.  And thank you for your severe chocolate addiction - it makes birthday gift-giving so easy this time of year.  I love you, honey.

My Life Under The Knife - Part Three

Snow day time and I'm doing some cyber-shopping.  I'm looking at knit headband options because in 2 weeks I will have neurosurgery.  Yes, my hair will be shaved, not all of it, but enough to warrant shopping for some hair accessories.  I went on Etsy and there are 21,893 items that matched my search -- clearly, a shopping task for my mother and sister.  I mean, my head already hurts enough.

So, yes, the surgery is upon me.  It's one in a long line of parties to try and get rid of that drunk uncle -- or, you know, unwanted objects out of my body.  My major issues started in October, 2004, when Steve moved to New Hampshire and the Red Sox broke their World Series losing streak.  I stayed in Florida to finish my degree and make final preparations to sell our house.  Those months alone sucked - I had some pretty serious manic-depressive episodes.  I think, while it was happening, I assumed I was missing Steve and was incredibly nervous to take my oral and comp exams, but really, I was incredibly anxious to move and truthfully, was resenting Steve for leaving a town I'd come to love for a place I knew nothing about.

2005, in snowy, icy New Hampshire, knowing no one and being unemployed, I was pretty miserable and I did the best I could.  Something that Steve and I had started to be more serious about was starting a family - figuring if I wasn't finding employment, maybe it was a good time to start.  Because everyone should start a family when you are miserable, right!?! Well, I wasn't getting pregnant and at about the same time, I was hired by Boston University in November of 2005, an opportunity I was thankful for, even if the commute from New Hampshire was brutal (2 hours one way).  Pretty simultaneously to starting the job, my periods and migraines got unbelievably painful.  We moved to Massachusetts in March of 2006, hoping that the stress of commuting would help a little bit.  But, by the time summer rolled around, I found myself in an oncologist's office being told I had severe endometriosis, endometritis, and ovarian cysts and that a hysterectomy would be the course of action recommended.  Excuse me, What?

As I sat there in shock, not believing what I was hearing, the doctor said that since I was of child-bearing age, she would try alternatives, but wanted to be honest about what I was dealing with.  Well, we had to, just had to, go with the alternatives.  In 2006, I had a laparoscopy that confirmed my right side was messed up - scar tissue, cysts, and the ovary being the main culprit with its desire to be over-productive.  So, I had a hyper ovary -- me, hyper?  Who would have thought?  The ovary liked to move up my fallopian tube and create cysts.  A shunt was inserted to keep the ovary in check and for basically a year, I went each month for Lupron Depot injections - a treatment for patients with prostate, ovarian, and uterine cancer risks. Meanwhile, I had this osteoma developing in my head, but tests came out negative and I didn't feel like dealing with it was a priority - getting pregnant was.  I had an ectopic pregnancy in June 2007 and thought to myself that maybe it wasn't meant to be, failed again in September, but then was told I was pregnant in October of 2007.  I didn't believe it, wouldn't let myself believe it and was really thankful that Steve had optimism for the both of us.  John "Jack" Clement Schaffer was born on June 17, 2008.  13 hours of labor that ended in a C-section because of course, my right side wouldn't cooperate!

For me, breastfeeding Jack was the best medicine because the hormonal benefits kept most of my gynecological issues in check.  My migraines, always radiating from the osteoma on the right side, were also occurring less, so things were good and then, in the fall of 2009 I found myself right back in 2004 all over again.  Here's where I know some people would call me greedy, perhaps foolish for playing Russian Roulette with my health, but I decided to have surgery again (same procedure to remove cysts, adjust the shunt, etc.) and also agreed to an IUD because studies had shown its effectiveness in helping patients like me.  Steve and I just weren't ready to give up on the dream of a second child and additionally, I didn't feel like I was emotionally ready or physically ready to take 4-6 months recovery time for a hysterectomy. I asked for the IUD to be removed in August, 2010 and was pregnant the following month.  Anna Elaine Schaffer was born May 10, 2011.  I still look at Anna and don't believe she is real.

For me, the past 2 years have almost been as hard as 2004-2007 because I have been blessed with 2 children, but because of my extraordinary arthritic and headache pain, I can't be the active mother I wish I could be or the one they deserve.  I had to get cortisone shots in order to breastfeed Anna because I was battling severe carpal-tunnel and tendinitis.  It got pretty bad, so I had to have, you guessed it, surgery to remove 10 cysts from my wrist and hand.  I also had my shunt checked and IUD inserted.  Of course, I still have a when decision to make about the hysterectomy, but this head of mine needs work first, then my heart, and that just may take some time, like the lifetime of a blog ;-)

My Life Under The Knife - Part Two

O.K.  So, this second part was really, really hard to write.  I'm pushing myself here to write this shit down.  I think we might just have to have a part 3.  My medical history parallels with my childhood, adolescent angst, young adulthood crap, so I gotta connect the dots.

My doctor calls the osteoma I'm having removed next month, "conspicuous and painful".  I laughed when she said it because I thought, yeah, that about sums everything up.  Many of my past actions could be described that way.  My body has generated cysts on a pretty regular basis since around 2004, perhaps earlier because the onset of painful migraines in college have often proven to be the culprit of many problems.

We were fortunate to have a great college physician,  she was helpful in diagnosing my migraines as something related to my menstrual cycle as well as to allergens like sulfites.  The pain was pretty unbearable and so I was prescribed varying degrees of painkillers.  What's important to note here is that I am my father's daughter, he was an addict who also had OCD and bi-polar tendencies.  His family was riddled with mental health issues.  I was the holder of a complex genetic lottery ticket and looking back, anyone could have predicted that having access to pain medications, in a college setting, was going to be a bad mix for this not-quite-yet reformed troubled kid.  Let me tell you a little bit about that kid...

I had such unexplainable anger, jealousy and low self-concept as a young kid -- it led me to say some pretty horrible things to friends and family.  One in particular that still sticks with me is when my sister had suffered a horrible diving accident and I said that I wished she were dead - words to this day I can't believe I said and feel like another person said them.  I guess, I've had to tell myself another person said those words because otherwise the guilt would've consumed me.  Along with saying hurtful things, I became quite the liar and manipulator.  One of my best acts was the cycle of secret binge eating and then making myself sick just at the right time to make my mom think I had a stomach bug so I could stay home from school.  I was twisted enough to save the vomit in the toilet to show her.

It didn't take long for that behavior to catch up with me and I landed in the Principal's office, the psychiatrist's office and so on and so on.  In my mind, I had been found out and it dawned on me that I was ruining my chances to get out of my parents' house and be on my own (the 17-year-old that thinks she has all the answers).  I got my act together, but definitely not for the right reasons.  My GPA and SAT scores were less than great, I'd say fair, so I used the essays to ask (beg) for a chance.  I did get that chance, and almost ruined it all with my trademark careless manipulations.  Insert freshman freedom and that migraine diagnosis here and you have one bad mix -- it kind of made it easy to major in alcohol, drugs, and sex.  In high school, I didn't have healthy relationships - I had the antonym of relationships - secret, manipulative hook-ups and well, it seemed so easy to just keep that going in college.  It was what I knew to do and for some reason, I thought that's how I would be liked, maybe even loved.

It does make me sad, at times, that I wasted almost 2 years of college with foolish and at times, dangerous behavior.  But, I also understand those tough times shaped who I am now.  It took some key college personnel (I think I was probably destined for a career in student affairs), a couple of friends, and meeting Steve to help me put pieces together and grow up.  It took a lot of time to get my head in the right place -- I don't think I had a solid, healthy definition of love until about 2 years into our marriage.  But, it's like my body, my physical spirit, is stuck back in that time; the pain my body produces is like the drunk uncle nobody wants at the holiday table.  Part 3 - how do you get rid of the drunk uncle?

My Life Under The Knife - Part One

I've had surgery 10 times - luckily 2 of those times gave us the gifts of Jack and Anna. Today, I've scheduled surgery #11 - I have an osteoma on my hairline that needs to be removed.  I am profoundly grateful to be alive and by writing my journey, I certainly don't minimize the much tougher roads that others have traveled.

My very first surgery was in the summer of 1990 - I had my jaw reconstructed because I had classically mis-aligned teeth and a serious under bite.  I was the kid with braces, retainers, palate expanders - the works. It was pretty awful at times. My orthodontist and oral surgeons patiently measured my bone growth for roughly 6 months to ensure that they would effectively treat my issues.  My jaw was wired shut for about 6 weeks and I lived on TCBY yogurt shakes and tomato soup.  My mom was by my side at all times -- she carried wire cutters in her purse!  The surgery was a success and I think for the first time in my life I was starting to build some self-esteem and confidence.

Right before my jaw surgery, I found out that all 4 of my wisdom teeth were impacted. Some headaches and migraines had started to interfere with my final year in college, so it was suggested that the wisdom teeth be removed.  The surgery occurred in the fall of 1995, about a week before my first "real" job started.  My co-workers at Marymount University couldn't believe I was starting my job so soon after the surgery, but I assured them this was nothing for me.  Of course I was uncomfortable, but I didn't want anything to jeopardize me starting what I hoped was the start of my career in higher education.

My poor self-concept and struggles with anxiety and depression definitely made for a rough adolescence and young adulthood.  I'd like to think these early surgeries helped get me on a better path of self-acceptance. Without this confidence, I probably wouldn't have been able to sustain a relationship with Steve nor would I have been able to develop a career in student affairs.

Steve and I were married on May 30, 1998 and moved to Jacksonville, Florida in July of that same year. We then moved to Gainesville in 2000.  I think the distance from family and the climate change had a bigger impact on me than I really wanted to admit.  Over time, I had both physical and emotional challenges. Luckily, I now knew how to ask for help and found good physicians to prescribe medications that made sense for my allergies, asthma, and anxiety (Triple A!). Unfortunately, my medical problems didn't subside, so I had my tonsils and adenoids removed in 2003.  As an adult, it is rare for doctors to go this route and believe me, I wish I could have avoided it.  Imagine eating sandpaper and it just gets stuck in your throat. There wasn't enough Popsicles in the world!

In October 2004, Steve moved to Nashua, NH and I stayed in Gainesville to prepare our house for sale, finish my degree, and start a whole new journey that was filled with unwelcome obstacles and answered prayers.

Mums

Mums (aka Grammy) would have turned 70 today.  Sadly, she died on October 21, 2013 and her death was all the more painful because we had to watch our children experience the loss of a grandparent.  Jack and Anna now have one living grandparent, my mother.  I lost all my grandparents by the age of 13 and I definitely remember feeling a void especially when so many of my friends had large families with lots of cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.  I cherish the friendships I've made over the years because those individuals have really been the extended family I and my family needed in good times and in bad.

Jack and Anna were born after my father died (November, 1997) and Steve's father died (June, 2006).  Trying to keep the memory of our fathers alive is something I try, almost desperately at times, to do for them.  And now, the thought of their memories of Grammy slowly fading is heart-breaking.  So, I write today with the hope that by journaling some of my memories, I'm honoring our Mums, Elaine Schaffer, Grammy to Corey, Dillon, Matthew, Logan, Jack, and Anna.

Our son Jack was born on June 17, 2008.  He was the 5th grandchild (and 5th boy) to be born on my husband's side of the family.  We had our own basketball team in the making!  Mums and Steve's younger sister, Susan couldn't wait to come visit us in Boston.  Mums didn't fly - she had a pretty paralyzing fear of flying and definitely let us know how much she hated it when we traveled by plane.  So, Susan, along with her husband and 2 children, drove Mums from Pittsburgh to come see us.  As a brand new mom, I wasn't really ready for a crew of visitors to come see us.  The thought of "hosting" anyone exhausted me and I had barely figured anything out in that first few weeks, but I knew it was important to Mums that she come as soon as possible.  I might have been a new mom, but I could understand her need to lay eyes on and hold her infant grandson just as she had done with the four that came before. I also had to depend on Steve to take care of things and give up some control -- something I'm not good at (surprise!). 

Mums' love for her children and grandchildren was unconditional and steadfast.  She made us all laugh and really smiled the most when she was around her grandchildren.  Whenever we had to say good-bye, Mums had this sweet, almost weepy way about her that was a look all her own - a look that made you feel so overwhelmingly loved.  When Mums held Jack for the first time, she was simply radiant.  I remember how very excited she was to bring Jack an assortment of new outfits.  We had been so fortunate to receive hand-me-downs from my sister and sisters-in-law, so I didn't want her to feel that she had to go to the trouble of getting too many clothes, but Steve was like, "no, you let the grandmothers do what they want, Gin."  There I go again - trying to control things!  Of course, those outfits she bought became my most favorite and Steve was wise to take many a picture of Jack wearing them.

Steve and I have been partners for 20 years and for a good bit of that time I watched Mums struggle with mobility.  Her knees in particular had caused her problems over the years, so we knew any time she traveled to see us or meet us somewhere, she really was stretching herself both physically and emotionally.  In the fall of 2009, I was so very proud of Mums when she took the train from Pittsburgh to NYC where we met her to spend the night and show her some sights of the city.  We then drove back to Boston so that we could treat her to classic New England fall festivals with hay rides and apple picking - I remember so vividly her attention to Jack being warm enough.  Every aspect of his outfit had to be just so.  Mums used every ounce of energy she had on that trip and it was clear to us that we would probably need to get creative for future family visits and I'm really thankful we did.

Anna Elaine Schaffer arrived on May 10, 2011.  It was exciting to have grandchild #6 be a girl.  Mums fell into her classic weepy happiness when we told her.  We named our daughter after Mums and Steve's grandmother - and she has certainly lived up to her namesake.  Anna is full of love, life, and attitude!  The picture above was taken during our family vacation to Amish country and Hershey Park during the summer of 2012.  It was our first attempt to meet somewhere that would reduce the strain of travel on Mums; our party of 13 had such a great time that we did it again the following summer in Niagara Falls, NY.

Of course, we didn't know our time was running out with Mums during the summer of 2013.  She had been suffering from some stomach ailments, but nothing definitive had been discovered, so I know I kind of put myself on an auto-pilot of sub-conscious denial that there was really anything wrong with her.  Then, the tables turned and I was hospitalized with viral meningitis in mid-August, 2013.  I had plenty of time on my hands being alone in that hospital room and so I talked to Mums quite a bit on the phone.  I'm so glad I got to have those chats with her.  She told me, "you gotta take care of yourself -- you are the mother of MY grand-babies!"  I will forever remember my marching orders, Mums.  We love you, we miss you - you are in our hearts forever.

Technology and Me...Oil and Water

I'm convinced that I have a metal plate in my head that my parents didn't tell me about.  Steve can't believe what happens to our laptop, TV, and Wii when I'm in the room.  I don't have a dislike for technology.  I remember thinking my mom was so uncool and perhaps a little cheap for being the last person I knew to get a cordless phone, VCR, microwave, etc.  I recall that I was pretty savvy with my Atari system and Commodore 64 keyboard - I didn't own a GameBoy, everyone else did and I was pretty good at playing Tetris! My sister and I laughed uncontrollably when my mom was assigned the job of training people on these new things called Macintosh computers for the middle schools -- what did she know, right? Our house at any given time had 3-5 different computers that she had to test out - she'd ask us to try different educational software.  I loved "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?"!  So, if I wasn't sheltered from technology then, why am I so bad at it now?

A colleague of mine made an excellent point to me recently that I've set myself up to be known as someone that can't be trusted to handle websites, technology, etc.  I think it was a combination of a loss of interest and a loss of confidence that has led me down this path.  I've built this wall up so high, I'm wondering if I have the energy it takes to break it down.  This blog is but one example of me trying to embrace the different world of media and technology we live in today. 

As I sit here, my husband is setting up my new Chromebook, I'm writing on a laptop.  There is also a tablet and my smartphone within reach.  Well. not really, because my kids already have them updated with their favorite apps.  I've got a long way to go.

Snow Day

I remember waiting and hoping my school would get closed during a snowstorm so that I could have a day of reckless TV watching and game-playing. As an adult, I want snow days for a little extra sleep and time to get something accomplished around the house.  Well, today has not been the snow day I had hoped for. It is cold, I am in pain and I go in and out of the revolving door of anxiety and depression. It might be a bit of cabin fever, but I also know the emotions I feel stem from the disappointment that my body can't keep up with what my heart and soul want to accomplish. I have been living with migraines since my college years and have struggled quite a bit with various gynecological issues.  But, my chronic pain issues catapulted in 2012 and I've since been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.  It's the worst feeling when I can't fully function as a mom and a partner to my husband. What's ironically more crippling is when the physical pain isn't too bad, but the emotional guilt consumes me all the same.

When I'm feeling down, I usually scan Facebook to check the updates of friends. There is a lot of good people out there doing some pretty cool stuff.  Sometimes, a feel-good story energizes me to get moving.  Today and many days, I'm inspired by Jack and Anna's Godfather, Joe. He is living in the Arctic Circle in Alaska and we are so very proud of him for making this journey. Joe has been great about posting videos and every time I watch, it's inspiring to see someone push themselves to take risks and try something new. Plus, watching those videos reminds me not to complain about Boston weather.