Nick

Nick came into this world in the same way he has always managed his life.  He was patient, with a streak of my stubbornness. His birth took 48 hours.  He would come when he was ready. He was born by C-section, as he was having difficulty breathing.  He was immediately put on a respirator and taken to the NICU.  At the time, I was heart-broken, at not being able to witness his birth, but my Doctor felt I was too exhausted to stay awake during the surgery. In a day or two I was wheeled in to the NICU to see my beautiful boy.  I was shocked to see all of the tubes, and monitors attached to my son.  His head and body was banged and bruised due to his long delivery.  I knew he would make it, though. There was a strength emanating from this infant.  He reminded me of a tree. An oak tree.  I decided that one day I would plant an oak tree for him.  Oak trees are sturdy, and stubborn...patient and beautiful. When I brought him home, I was amazed at his "easiness".  He was not a "fussy" baby at all.  His father and I were amazed at how he slept through the night in his first month.  As he grew, he exhibited tendencies that would get him through his life.  Only Nick would take apart a broken toaster at age 10, and put it back together again.  I truly don't remember whether or not it worked again.  I was just profoundly amazed at the extent of his curiosity, tenacity, and intelligence.  As an artist myself, I watched him develop his drawings, and Art.  When he went to High School, he decided to take Photography class.  I lent him my beloved Pentax Spotmatic camera.  Later on, I decided that the camera belonged to him. It was important that I let him have it.  To this day, he has an "eye", as they say in photography.  I finally gave him the rest of my photographic equipment.  I was almost brought to tears when I saw his home in Portland, Oregon for the first time, and he showed me that he had set up a darkroom with my old college equipment. I digress, I know.  The day he brought his beautiful young girlfriend home to meet us, I knew that she was the "one".  She was so much like Nick...beautiful and brilliant, loving and kind. At the time she was a young Taiwanese University of Michigan PhD candidate in a science that I cannot describe.  Nick filmed Yi-Hsuan's dissertation.  Such a sign of love...to document a student turning professional...in a second language.  Brilliant.  The two of them are not a match, really.  They complement each other.  Theirs is a love that is truly eternal.

Nick is a private. patient and loving son, and husband.  It really is different with sons.  There is a lot of unspoken words...stuff that does not need to be said.  You just know it is there.  He is the child who shared my passion for Art, and his father's love of music. He has so much talent in Graphic Arts, that he has no problem staying employed.  His latest band...The Silent Numbers...(the very name a play on a Mathematical concept) is doing well in the Portland music scene.

Nick is happy.  He wishes to lead a simple, uncluttered life with Yi-Hsuan.  I love him for that

There is nothing I would not do for this boy/turned man/turned artist/turned husband. I hold him close to my heart, and love him as only a mother can understand...and yet.  There is something deeper in my love for Nick.  It contains respect.  Love and respect entwined.


 Now, we have the home where I can plant his tree.  An oak tree...this Spring.

Stevens Johnson Syndrome

I can now write about this experience without re-experiencing the trauma, as I am free of this terrible disease.

One day, I noticed a swollen lymph node on my neck.  Figured I was coming down with something. The next day I was experiencing fever and chills...temps around 102.  Then. Nothing, except a small rash on my right arm.  It was extremely itchy and I scratched constantly in my sleep.  The rash spread to my chest, and my stomach.   I got up the next morning and it was everywhere...head to toe.   Michael took  one look at me and said:"We've gotta take you in".  I went immediately to Chelsea's ER (shorter wait time.).  They wanted to send me to the U of M ER, as they were not equipped to handle "weird".  However, The U had 42 people in gurneys in the hallways, so I was transferred by ambulance to St. Joe's, where I was admitted.  The rash turned into painful blisters...and I was put on a morphine drip.  Even bed linens were painful.  Students were continually coming in to examine me, as what I had was quite rare.  Stevens Johnsons can be deadly, cause blindness, or develop into a chronic, lifetime, condition.  I was terrified.  I was in the hospital for 3 days in this condition.  Unfortunately, there is no treatment...only cortico-steroids and palliative care. The whole situation was made worse, as I had also developed "swimmer's shoulders" from my first open water race.  I had trained to swim a mile, and ended up swimming two miles.  I am still in PT for that.  After I returned home, I had 2 more "pain emergencies".  I was again put on morphine, given pain killers (in my case, Dilaudid).  The 2nd trip I went to the ER at UofM, and spent the day with docs and amazing nurses trying to control my pain.  It took at least a month to recover.  I would not wish this illness on ANYONE!  To this day, it's hard for me to talk about it.