My Easter Miracle

Over the past fifteen years, I have found myself asking "Where is God?".  This Easter, I got my answer. He is here and is listening.

Raised in a pretty traditional Catholic household, we rarely missed church, always visited the Rectory, carefully chose what to give up for lent and never ate meat on Fridays during Lent.  My faith, some would say, has wavered, okay gone completely off the rails.  Since Jack and Kate were diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis, after spending months at a Baby's hospitals, I found myself asking "Where is God?"  

This Easter weekend I was flipping channels and found myself stuck on the History Channel watching the Bible mini-series.  I could not stop watching.  Easter Sunday came, I went to church.  

I rarely go to church anymore, but there I was on Easter Sunday, in church.  No I was not wearing a pretty new dress or lovely hat, I was not with my family.  I sat surrounded by families, in their Easter best.  I felt at home, I always do in Church.

I ended up in the middle of the pew and thought to myself, if I were on the end I would feel the holy water when the Priest walked down the middle spreading it.  Literally one second later I felt a huge splash of holy water, right on my forehead.  It was as if someone was listening to me.

Finally, it was time for me to pray.  This past year for Jack has been terrible.  It started with being hospitalized for his pancreas, but soon it was his lungs.  Everyone with someone with CF in their family will tell you, it's all about your lung function.  For no reason, this past year Jack's lung function has been on downward spiral.  To add insult to injury he started to culture for an infection that he would never get rid of.  The last time Jack went to his pulmonary doctor, his numbers started with a 6, they were in the 60s!  Ninety- eight is normal.  I am not going to lie, this terrified me.

So there I sat in church, praying for Jack.  Believing in God, believing in the resurrection and what Easter celebrates and praying for my son.

Today Jack had an appointment with his Lung Doctor.  I had forgotten all about this appointment.  His Dad took him, and when he walked back in, I braced myself for more bad news.  After all, what had changed?

I asked how his appointment went, Jack smiled and his Dad smiled.  His Dad looked at me and said, ask Jack what his numbers are.   I did .. 95%!  The doctor was shocked, Jack was shocked, they were high fiving.. this was unheard of.  This was a miracle.  My Easter miracle.  Maybe God has been here all along but I just have not been paying attention.

I am so thankful for my Easter miracle.  I am so thankful for my three beautiful children and I am thankful for those numbers because that is a miracle.

PAY IT FORWARD

It is hard to believe I have a house filled with teenagers now.  It seems like yesterday I had a house full of babies.  Our house was a happy house, filled with laughter.  Jack's diagnosis came early on, seven months and with his diagnosis came fear.  Pretty early on, I learned I was not alone on this journey.  This train, my train, was filled with generous people. They were neighbors, mothers, athletes, businessmen and strangers.   Their giving arms where much longer than their taking arms.  What they have accomplished is nothing short of a miracle.

Before Jack's diagnosis,  I was blissfully unaware that disease in our country was a multi million dollar business.  I just assumed, if your child was sick,  there were doctors and scientists working to cure it.  I could not have been more wrong.   If they have a way of getting rich, they would work to cure your child's disease.  I suppose I feel fortunate that my child has a disease that there has been a lot of money raised and as such a great deal of progress is being made.  Will that progress be in time for Jack, that I do not know.

So along with keeping Jack healthy until there was a cure was the added responsibility of raising money and awareness.  This journey I started fifteen years ago, continues today.  Cystic Fibrosis, as is the case with most children's diseases, gets very little corporate funding.  Why?  Our children do not grow up, they do not become the CEO of Pepsi where they can command millions of dollars in corporate funding to their favorite charity.  Most donations to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation are personal.  My fundraising career  started out with a cocktail party.  I divided my friends into three teams and challenged them to raise money for the Great Strides Walk.  The winning team received a case of wine.  I hoped for $5,000 we raised close to $100,000.  The checks rolled in from all over, some of the most unexpected came from families with no connection to mine.  One check for $25 came from a an electrician and his family in the next town over. Someone with a giving arm longer then his taking arm.  

Along this journey, I have met so many people who have donated money, time and anything else they could to make a difference in the life of a child with Cystic Fibrosis.  And for that I am truly grateful.  While a diagnosis like Cystic Fibrosis leaves you wondering why my child or any child for that matter. The journey you set off on will change you for ever.

Two men have changed this direction of Cystic Fibrosis, Frank DeFord and Boomer Esiason.  Each has gone so much further with their commitment to this disease than one could ever expect.   Frank DeFord lost his fight 30 years ago when his seven year old daughter died from Cystic Fibrosis after an exhausting fight.  He not only continues to make appearances, he gives speeches from the heart.  He shares his daughter Alex with everyone in that room.  After Mr. DeFord speaks, there is never a dry eye.    To relive his fight which ended tragically must be so difficult.

When Boomer son was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis he shared his second call was to his friend Frank DeFord.  Mr. DeFord replied that there is a reason for this.  Knowing that someone with Boomer's fame, kind heartedness and dedication would change the face and direction of Cystic Fibrosis.  It has.  For that I am grateful.  But I wish medicine in America did not require someone famous to have a child with a disease to cure it.  Not to take away what both Frank DeFord and Boomer Esiason have done for every child with Cystic Fibrosis.  They have given them a fighting chance.  They have given every mother of a child with Cystic Fibrosis hope.

While these gentleman have raised hundreds of millions, I would like to thank the electrician for his $25 check and his blessings.  You have taught me that every little bit makes a difference, it makes in impact, it gives a mother faith and hope.  Your generosity touched my heart.  I am not in this fight alone, I have the love support, prayers and blessing of so many.  I only hope that I can pay it forward in some small way to another family that is struggling with a child with a disease.

There is little hope for changing how disease are funded in America.  But now I have hope in the human spirit.  I think most, when called upon, will step up and do what they can.   I always say that I wish Jack did not have Cystic Fibrosis, after this year, I wish this more than ever.  It has been a horrible year.  But I am grateful for the journey,  along the way have met so many whose kindness, generosity, dedication and spirit have given me faith, faith in my son, faith in my community, faith in Jack's future and every other child with CF.  Thank you for that. #cysticfibrosis #rockCF #children #love #Faith #Boomeresiason

REAL SPORTS WITH BRYANT GUMBEL

Tonight at 10, on Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel, Boomer Esiason and Frank DeFord sit down for a talk.  The talk is about their connection and Cystic Fibrosis.

I remember so well when Jack was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis.

Let me go back, Jack was just sick, he was always sick. His doctor insisted I was over reacting, my son simply had an older sibling at home.  Interestingly, she was never sick.  One day I brought him home from his doctor, who again assured me I was over reacting. My british friend Nikki, no medical training, took one look at him and said "that child belongs in hospital".  I took Jack to a new doctor that afternoon, she saved Jack's life.  She sent me straight to Columbia.  Jack had a double ear infection, one had perferated, conjunctivitis and a collapsed lung.  Dr. Quittell took care of my son that day.  She told me "Liz I would like you to bring Jack back to test for Cystic Fibrosis.  I do not think your son has this so do not google".  Being the good catholic girl I am I listened.  So three weeks later, when I was sitting in her office after Jack failed the test, tears streamed down my face when Dr. Quittell said "things are so much better now, some children with CF actually live to 18 and go to college".  I had no idea this disease was terminal.  That day had found out I was pregnant again.

After that, I went straight home, and I googled.  I am across a book about a girl who had CF.  I ordered it.  I sat down to read Alex the Life of a Child and did not get up till I was finished.  The book was written by Frank DeFord.  I later found out he was a famous sports writer.  His book is so beautifully written, I cried through it.  Without holding anything back, Frank DeFord told the story of his princess Alex who died when she was 8.  I guess what I liked best about the book was the Mr. DeFord was so mad about this disease.  I knew exactly how he felt.

I met Boomer Esiason at Columbia.   His son was being treated by Dr. Quittell, Jack's doctor. He was lovely.  Not long after that, I heard Boomer speak for the first time.  He and his wife Cheryl were living in Cincinnati.  He was the QB with the Bengals.  After reading Frank DeFord's book they decided to raise money for Cystic Fibrosis.  And with tears in his eyes, he described the call from his wife four years later.  He was in NY, just signed with the Jets,  he had to come home Gunner was sick.  Gunner had Cystic Fibrosis.

I admire both of these men for many reasons but mostly one.  They stood up.  They have raised money and awareness for Cystic Fibrosis and in doing so have changed the outcome for children with this terminal disease.  They are on the brink of something so exciting.  It will change the lives of children and their families with Cystic Fibrosis. Going forward, this will be the blueprint for other children's disease.

Mr. DeFord lost his fight in 1980, yet he has continued to make appearances and speak on behalf of CF Foundation.  I was fortunate enough to be a Cipriani's in NYC to hear him speak.  He told a story about his beautiful daughter Alex.  She was small, most children with the disease are small in stature,  she was lovely, beautiful, smart, funny and sensitive.  Mr. DeFord talked about one night in particular when he was having a conversation with Alex about princesses, Alex's favorite topic.  Alex told her father "I could never be a princess".  Her father asked "why Alex, why can't you be a princess".  Alex replied, my crown would fall off when you did PT in the downward positions on me."  PT is something every child with CF has done everyday sometimes three times a day.  You hold them in many positions and pound on them to get the mucus out of their lungs.  Some of the positions are in the downward position.  which of course if you were wearing a crown, it would fall off.   Everyone in that room had tears in their eyes.

A lot of money was raised that night.  Mr. DeFord could easily have walked away when his fight was over in 1980.  He did not.  He stood up.

Boomer Esiason, professional athlete stood up.  His foundation has done so much for children with  Cystic Fibrosis.  He has tirelessly put his family on the forefront of this fight.  He has accomplished more than he will ever realize in changing the hopes and dreams of children with Cystic Fibrosis.  He is  a hero, he stood up.

Children's diseases in America are grossly over looked by corporations and the government when it comes to funding.  If there is no money, there is no progress.  I followed the blog of mother.  Her child had a rare form of cancer.  There was a drug that would have helped her son, but no drug company would produce it,  the drug company could not enough money.  Her son died.

So if you have the opportunity to stand up, to make a difference in the life of a child or a family with a child with a disability like CF or Autism, or Cancer, stand up.  Make a difference.  Then go home, hug your children.

Tonight I will be watching Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel.  I admire these two men.  I admire them for their compassion, the drive and determination, but mostly I admire them because they stood up.  These men will touch your hearts. 

Time

"All of my possessions for a moment in time."  Queen Elizabeth I

Sometimes I wish I could go back, go back in time, just for a day.  When they were little, life just seemed so carefree.  Yes Jack and Kate have Cystic Fibrosis, but to look them, you would never know it. When they were young, before Jack got really sick, we lived life, everyday like it was our last day.  Whatever they wanted or needed I gave them.  Christmas was heaven, parties with friends, Vermont, a dream.

Early on we took up going to Vermont the day after Christmas.   We had house with a huge fireplace and no TV or Internet of phone service.  Our days were spent skiing, our nights in front of the fire playing all kinds of ridiculous games.  I would trade anything  to go back.  Just for one night.  All three in their jams, exhausted after a day of skiing or snowboarding, in front of the fire.

Later, it seemed it was always around the holidays that our lives would be shattered when Jack, in the middle of the night, would get sick.  With little or no warning, we were on our to the hospital never knowing how long that stay would last.  How many nights would I sleep on chair, how many days away from my girls.  And Jack, how much pain before he just could not take it anymore, before his body said, enough is enough.

Last year I was really unsettled in December.  I just felt something was wrong, terrified something was going to happen, terrified Jack would get sick.  We made it through the holidays and there was a sigh of relief as we all spent the first day after Christmas in 22 inches of snow at Stratton.   But that night, in the middle of the night, Jack got sick.

His sisters, well I never give them the credit the deserve, they take care of Jack, they get him packed for the hospital,  they tell me to pull myself together.  They have lived this, with Jack getting sick, really sick, for their entire lives.  I never quite get used to it.  I still stand in the emergency room, with tears pouring down my face saying, "my son has pancreatitis and you need to get a line in him,  NOW."

And then I stay with Jack, some think I just wait... wait for them to fix him and send us home.  No, I explain his history, I demand his medication be given in a timely manor, I thoroughly go over his history and play an active role in every decision that is made and make sure costly mistakes are not made.  I sleep on a chair.  I rarely eat, Jack can not it just does not seem right.  Kate, my saint comes to visit and stay with Jack and Sam makes sure our family stays "Normal".  Which is all she ever wanted.

So it is that time of year.  My wish is to go back.  Just for one moment.  Back when I was not afraid.  Back when we were a normal family.  Just one day.

I live in fear of the holidays and this year is no exception...

But this year is different.    I know that whatever happens me and my girls will be able to take care of Jack.  We love him with all our heart.  He is our Christmas miracle.

Merry Christmas to all.....

FAITH

"Sometimes Life is going to hit you in the head with a brick.  Don't lose faith."  Steve Jobs

Often I have been given way too much credit when it comes to taking care of Jack.  One thing is for sure, Jack has always been the one to keep the faith.  Know matter what, Jack has faith that everything is going to be all right.

A little about Jack, as soon as he could walk he ran.  From the start Jack liked going fast.  He would jump on his bike and peel off toward town, which was fine expect he was four!  I told him no biking to town alone so the next day he took the keys and started the car.  He was going to drive to town.

His first day on skis, I went to find Winslow his instructor (a very cute aussie) and get Jack.  At the magic carpet they told me Jack was on the chairlift.  Really, I said this is his FIRST day on skis.  The calmly told me he wanted to go.  Of course he did, he would have gone on the Gondola and to double black if ya let him.  I told them, you have to say "No Jack"

But honestly there was no stopping Jack. If he was not peeling through the terrain park on his snowboard, he was flying through through the skatepark on his skateboard.  He liked speed, and he was fearless.

Once his father thought he would teach him a lesson and went off while snowboarding with Jack, thinking Jack would get scared and follow.. nope. That day I was skiing with a friend and on the board at the chairlift there was a note. Mrs Clark please come to the front desk.  I thought excellent, they found my car keys.  Wrong. When I got to the front desk, the lost and found, my six year old son was sitting on it  His father came in right after me. Deer in the headlights, he claimed they got separated.  I told him, you get separated from your 40 year old friend, you lose your six year old child.  But there was no stopping Jack.

At 6 Jack went to the hospital for what we thought would be two days, stupidly I told Jack he did not have to wash his hair till we got home, he left two months later with dreadlocks.  That hospitalization changed everything.   Jack was diagnosed with Pancreatitis, it was unrelenting.  His doctor was clueless when it came to handling it.  She thought a little rest and an IV.  She could not have been more wrong. Weeks later,  a dozen blown IVs, hours of pain and frustration, a massive weight loss Jack was not closer to getting better.  He was getting worse.  I called my friend from Rye, we lived around the corner and our kids were great friends.  Her brother in law was and is Head of Surgery at Columbia Pres.  He saved Jack's life.  He sent Dr. Stevens from the adult side.

Dr. Stevens did an ERCP.  They put Jack under and took a look.  I sat in that waiting room, confident he would come out and say, I have fixed your son.  Nope.  He came out and said "I have never seen this in a child.  I do not know what to tell you Mrs. Clark."  Tears streamed down my face and I went to Jack. He was crying and in so much pain.  It was devastating.  This disease is devastating.

Later that week, they decided to put a provac port in.  This would feed Jack, administer medication and require a lot of work.  Putting Jack under again was heartbreaking, he was so scared.  I was with him in the OR, I leaned down and quietly told him "Jack this is a magic port, with this port we get to go home Jack.  This is a great day".

He come home two days before christmas. His sisters who adore him were waiting at the door. They prepared a special dance for jack and hugged him till he could not take anymore.  Our friends decorated our house that year. Our house never looked more beautiful.  It was decorated with love and compassion.  We are blessed with wonderful friends. Jack's faith kicked in and he was snowboarding five days after.  Port wrapped, Jack took off.  Jack had enough faith for both of us.  He would say mom, I am good, I am okay.

I have lost count of how many times Jack has been hospitalized since.   After each hospital stay, usually picc line in his arm, as soon as he could, he would head off to the skatepark or terrain park.  His faith was remarkable.  Mine not so much.  I would breakdown, cry, drink wine, cry more, post on facebook, call anyone who would take my call. Which most of my friends did.  My friends were wonderful.  They drove my girls when I could not, they made meals when I could not.  They listened while cried. They helped me, I needed them because I did not have faith.  I was terrified.

This year Jack lost his faith. Jack, Sam and I were up at Stratton last Christmas. He was boarding in 22 inches of snow.  He stayed on his board till the lifts closed.  My legs were burning by 2.  That night his pancreas took over and we went back to westchester and back to the hospital.  This time was different.  That smile was gone.  He just was not coming back.  He was not okay.

I have to stay I am not all surprised.  I often thought, that everything this child has been through, the pain, the hospital stays, no food all of it had to be going somewhere.  I have often said his courage and faith were remarkable and it is.  This time there was no faith left.  I felt him slipping away, months went by.  I had no idea what to do. Finally,  I found help.  I realized it was my turn to be strong, to have faith.

I  have enough faith for both of us now.  I have to say its been months, but that smile is returning to Jack's face.  Jack, his sisters and I are going back to Stratton at Christmas and he can tear through the terrain parks and go to their indoor skate park at night.  We can but this horrible year behind us.  Because Jack, I have enough faith for both of us.  I know how strong and courageous you are because I have been with you every minute.  But know now  you have me and your sisters who love you.  It is our turn to take care of you.  We have faith Jack, everything is going to be all right.

Blood Brother

I was listening to this song tonight.  Blood Brothers.  Bruce Springsteen.  The lyrics "What once seemed black and white have turned so many shades of grey."

This blog started as a diary to chart Jack's hospital stays.  I felt that it was so important to get jack the best medical care possible to fight his Cystic Fibrosis.   So much so, we spent days in the ER at Columbia, because it was the only way to get admitted and to get the best minds in medicine to treat Jack.

I so stupidly forgot that there was so much more to this than just fixing Jack's body.  What about making sure that my beautiful, fearless, wild child stayed wild.  What about making sure that boy who flew down down every hill on his snowboard, flew recklessly through every skate park, who explored fearlessly through life continued to do so.

I have let him down.  While I was so busy making sure that medically he was getting the best care possible, I overlooked that at some point he was going to come to terms with all of this emotionally.

After all, he has spent weeks, sometimes months,  in the hospital from the time he was a baby.  He has endured pain that most never feel.  His life has been abruptly interrupted because of his Cystic Fibrosis.

How thoughtless of me, his mother, to not recognize that at some point this would catch up with him.

I hate Cystic Fibrosis.  I hate this disease and what it has taken from him.  He has more courage and strength than anyone I know.  But now this is catching up with him.

We live in world where are children are expected to be not just be athletes, but olympic quality.  They better get a perfect score on their SATs and graduate with enough ap credits to graduate from college before they start.

My big girl is at Bucknell.  She is smart, beautiful an athlete and committed.  It is not easy being part of this family, as some of our holidays are spent in hospitals or trips cut short and ending up in the hospital, yet she loves her brother and has made it to Bucknell.  My baby girl loves her brother too.  She has always been by his side. She is a freshman, great grades, in the HS play she is amazing.  How does this effect her?

I hate this disease.  I do.  But I will say, my children have risen above this and because of this will be stronger, more empathetic and more equipped to handle whatever comes their way.

And fear not Jack, you are surrounded by girls who love you.  Our love and faith in you is endless and we will get you to a better place.

It's called parenting Liz ...

Its called parenting Liz....

That's what Jack's dad said to me the other day when he came over and Jack was asleep at 5 in the afternoon.  He was angry that I was letting that happen.

Jack has been living the life or riley (I was never quite sure what that meant) this summer.  He plays xBox late with his friends.  He eats at all hours, he has grown 4 inches and six months and no sign of stopping, and he naps when feels like it.  He has no schedule. 

Jack's first week hospital stay was at nine months.  I have lost count of how many time he has been admitted since.  His longest stay was two months.  I do not know how many pic lines he has left the hospital with.  The care of which is awful.  He probably never should have been allowed to go home with the Picc Line.  He has had one picc line infection, that lead to blood infection, he was septic and I thought for sure I was gonna lose my son that first night.  He does therapy everyday, he has been on crazy no fat diet.  This is the life of child with Cystic Fibrosis.  Some go a longtime without these complications, Jack has not been so lucky.  Through all of this his he has shown the strength and courage that I am in awe of.  He never feels sorry for himself or asks why me.  He, along with his two sisters, is my hero.

Yelling at Jack for napping is not an option for me.  He was hospitalized this winter again for pancreatitis, and to add insult to injury, we received some bad news about his lungs the following month.  So if this is how Jack handles his CF, taking a month off in the summer to play xBox, to rest, to eat and grow so be it.

There is no manual for this.  What to expect never covered what to do if your child is chronically  sick.  I consider Jack one of the most capable people I know.  This will play a very important role in his life going forward.  I hope and pray everyday I will be fortunate enough to see what Jack accomplishes as an adult.  I love him with all my heart, and yes if at 15 he wants the summer off... yes Jack you get the summer off.

My youngest Kate is away at camp. She is the most creative child I have ever met.  She reads anything she can get her hands on, knits, sews, sings, performs.  I miss her with all my heart.

In two weeks, my big girl Sam who I could not be more proud of, leaves for Bucknell.  I told a close friend the other night whose daughters are young, if I could do this all over again, I would.

Missing my baby who is at camp for the month and dropping my Sam off at Bucknell is tearing me apart.  So yes, my Jack who is here with me, who has been fighting for his life since he was a baby can have the summer off.  To his Dad I say yes this is parenting.