Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Adoption”

A Special Little Girl


I will not use real names for this post because currently, the situation right now is too emotional for so many in our circle to deal with.

CindyLou is a very special little girl.  She was adopted with my oldest.  We have made it a point to see each other as often as possible, in spite of the great distance of three state borders.  For eight years now, both CindyLou and Madison have seen each other multiple times a year.  Each time, new memories were developed, and a stronger bond grew between both.  Madison is my daughter, and she is adopted from China.  So unfortunately, when it comes to discussing “birth” or biological family, we do not really possess any kind of information.  We were successful in finding out who exactly (foster family) raised Madison the first year of her life.  In fact, we found out that Madison had a crib mate for the last three months there, a little girl now living in Scotlan.  We also keep in touch with her family and come to find out exactly how influential the foster family was as both girls bear a lot of commonalities with each other in personalities and interests.

But getting back to CindyLou, I have only known her to be a happy and energetic little girl.  She excels in everything she attempts, in fact challenges herself to compete against children older than her.  And this is just for the fun of it.

But CindyLou also has a huge heart of gold.  A couple of months ago, when our golden retriever Pollo fell ill and things did not look well for him, CindyLou did something extraordinary.  CindyLou and her family came up to visit us for the weekend, and we decided to take a trip to Manhattan and do some sightseeing.  One of the places her mother wanted to visit was St. Patrick’s Cathedral.  Pollo was taken to the vet hospital the day before and this little girl knew how sad and distracted I was.  While inside St. Patrick’s, CindyLou lit a candle for Pollo.  Of all the people or issues or events, she chose to say a prayer for my box of rocks, my 12 year old dog.  We were up in New York having a nice leisurely day, and this nine-year old still held in her heart, that I was worried about Pollo.

Nearly two months later, that small heart would be challenged.  A few days ago, upon arriving home from school, her dog was found quite ill.  He had already been to the vet just days earlier, and remembering some of my conversations about Pollo while they were visiting, they appropriately ordered the vet staff to spare nothing in finding out  what was wrong.  Nothing could be diagnosed and sent home.  But now, his condition had gotten so bad.  CindyLou’s mother was now faced with the one of the most difficult decisions concerning a pet, euthanasia.  The truth was, his chest cavity was flooding with fluid preventing his heart from beating appropriately, not allowing his lungs to expand as needed.  CindyLou curled up with her dog on the floor and held him as the drugs were being administered.  Even under the circumstance, and the pending result, CindyLou’s priority was still to provide comfort to her fine furry friend.  And then proceeded to console her younger sister.

We spoke the next night, and clearly, I had never heard that child cry before, and now I did hear, also her mother.  I do not know if they will get another dog or not, I hope so.  A pet could not be loved more than by these girls.

The Crazy Things Kids Say


Bill Cosby had a television show years ago called, “Kids Say The Darnedest Things.”  Art Linkletter had a similar show way back when.  The timing of toddlers and the charm of children with answers to life’s simple and complicated questions always lead in an unknown direction.

And so, one goal that Wendy and I believe in with our daughters is to let them be children.  We do not necessarily believe in shielding them from all things bad in the world.  We just want them to go at their pace.  For instance, they are now old enough to understand quite a bit about the tragedy of 9/11.   Again, we let them gather information at their pace, because they are children.

Wendy and I adopted the girls well into our mid-lives.  So combined, we had quite a personal history, full of stories happy and sad.  Some stories had lessons and some were just meant as entertainment.  But again, we both agreed anything that the kids heard, had to be for their age level.  Well, it seemed except for one topic.

Obviously at some point it would be an issue, past relationships.  But clearly, my then eight and six year olds did not need to know their mother’s dating history or my dating and marriage history.  That’s right, marriage history.  Again that is another story for another time, but for now I want to concentrate on a time long before either of my daughters were born and therefore should have been of no concern of theirs.  My current wife Wendy, disagreed.

For a brief period of time, our house had been receiving phone calls and mail for my ex-wife.  Unbeknownst to me, Wendy was getting them and not telling me, and I had been getting them and not telling her.  It was not a big deal really.  Wendy did not know why she was being contacted here, nor wanted to know as was the same with me.   Occasionally I am known to want to have fun with telephone callers, and one particular day, this past Valentine’s Day was the day.

I received a solicitation in the mail for my ex-wife.  Having grown very weary at this point of receiving the mail and phone calls for a woman I had not seen in over a dozen years, and had never even lived in my current residence.  There was a phone number on the correspondence.  The girls had not arrived home yet from school, the timing was perfect.

Representative:  Hello.  Thank you for calling.  How can I help you?

Paul:  For starters, you can explain to me why I am receiving telephone calls and mail from your company to the attention of Judy Edelman.  The woman has never lived here and is of no relation to me in the entire time that I have lived here.  (I began to pace in my kitchen side to side)

Representative:  We have her name from public records being related to you.  We apologize for any inconvenience this has caused.

(now I am having a hard time keeping a straight face because now I have him right where I want him)

Paul:  An inconvenience.  You think I am calling you about an inconvenience.  It’s freaking Valentine’s Day and what does my wife see in the mail?  A solicitation addressed to my ex-wife!!  Here is what you are going to do, two choices.  You can send my current wife a dozen long stem roses for ruining her Valentine’s Day, hence mine too, or you can simply remove my ex-wife’s name from my information.  Since I do not expect you to follow through on the first one, remove my ex-wife’s information immediately!

At that point, I had stopped pacing and realize that now that the front door of the house is opened.  As I continue to turn towards the door, there is my oldest, standing with her one hand on her hip, a scowl on her face, and the other hand with a finger pointed in the air that swung back and forth to each word.

Madison:  You have an ex wife?!?

And there it was.  An issue that I had hoped not to have to deal with for another ten years or so.  There was an explanation given to her, in as simple terms as I could give.   Unfortunately this would not go away.  A week later, after having an especially strenuous week, had a day off that Saturday.  We decided to go out that evening as a family for dinner and a movie.  Dinner was over and we headed to the theater.  Everything was perfect.  And then Madison decided she wanted to play her favorite game, The Favorite Game.  This is where she rattles off questions to find out your favorite colors, trees, ice cream flavor, nothing was sacred.  And just when things seemed to have no chance of getting any better, the shoe dropped.

Madison:  So Daddy, who is your favorite wife?  I mean, I know the other wife is your ex-wife, but which one is your favorite?

And with that, Wendy and I looked at each other, and it was decided, go see the movie, and call it a night.

I’m On A Need To Know Basis


On any level, whether as a child or an adult in the work force, you may have heard the comment, “The information is on a need to know basis and right now, you don’t need to know.”  But what if you really do need to know.

One of the knocks that I have taken over the years of survivorship from both family and friends is the fact that I am always reading things on line about cancer, side effects, and survival.  “How depressing” is usually the punctuation mark at the end of the statement.  No matter which way I try to defend myself, the response is always the same, “it puts ideas into your head” or another depression comment.

But let’s face it.  How would  you feel when you go to the doctor with obvious symptoms, and the best you get sent home with is a narrowed-down diagnosis and a prescription of prednisone?  Or perhaps you are given a diagnosis of a particular cancer or another serious disease and half way through treatments you develop a side effect that your doctor was unaware that could happen, regardless of its severity?  Maybe you do not want to feel as if you are going through a serious life issue on your own even if you have immediate familial support.

When I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease back in 1988, I had no internet.  The original doctor I saw even gave me the wrong diagnosis due to the rarity of this cancer.  I have even confirmed on documentation obtained from my oncologist that no one had any idea that I would be dealing with the late side effects from my cancer treatments.  I had no support groups and no one from my family had ever had Hodgkin’s Disease.  Even when I showed up for my consult before starting treatment, I presented my oncologist with a full page of questions that I had wanted answered before I even let them stick a needle in me.  I was told he “didn’t have time.”

That all changed in 1997 with my first computer and a recommendation that I check out this internet group that dealt with Hodgkin’s Disease.  From there, I found more than two dozen valuable web groups that offered support for Hodgkin’s Disease.  The only thing was, I was approaching my eigth year in remission.  I did not need this type of information.  At one point, someone recommended that I should instead check out a web group that had long term survivors from the same cancer as me.  Initially, I felt I had no place there, as nearly all of these people were dealing with such horrific late effects.  But for the most part, I was fine.

Fast forward to 2008, and I have been told that I need to have emergency heart bypass surgery due to late effects of raditation therapy.  From the date of my release from the hospital, I reintroduced myself to this group of survivors, and I have never looked back.  As much as a benefit to my soul to be able to relate to others, this list provided me with answers, and directions to find the proper care and information of what else to look into.  Yes, it has meant a lot of doom and gloom.  Other issues have been found.  And on at least two other occasions, resulted in trips to the emergency room, one via ambulance.  But I have been informed.  I know what the doctors need to know and look out for.  I know what questions need to be asked.  But it can be overburdening, like opening Pandora’s Box.

Wendy would much prefer if I were not involved with these lists, as are many others in my family.  There are those who simple contribute by offering “you’ll be fine.  These things don’t happen to everyone and besides, you look great.”  No matter how much I protest their confidence and my need for this information, I cannot convince them.

Recently, during my brother-in-law’s memorial service, a friend of his was offering a tribute by relating a story of how Mike had been introduced to another patient recently diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s Disease, as Mike was battling.  Mike had reached out to this patient via email to offer support and advice, having “been there done that.”  One of the key things that was mentioned by Mike, was the need to be informed.  That his wife had often suggested how depressing it was to be constantly on the internet looking up things related to ALS.  Of course it is depressing.  But there is a comfort that only someone who has gone through similar can provide.

As Mike told the new friend, the internet gave him information that he could ask doctors if certain things could happen during his illness, side effects, emotional struggles, resources for handicap preparedness, and so on.  He learned questions to ask his doctors in order to assist his care, and prepare for his future.  The internet taught him the different types of ALS as well as stages.  He learned acceptance.  On his own, Mike could never have dealt with this.  And nor could I with my health issues.  It is a reality much to similar to that of the original illness.  More than 22 years later, I still learn new things about what is happening to me.

I know every drug and amount of radiation used on me and their side effects.  I know all of the tests that I underwent as well as biopsies.  I know the ramifications of a splenectomy.  I know that even having knowledge cannot prevent the inevitable of sudden onsets such as cardiac or sepsis.  But I am better prepared because I have met and know others who have given me this knowledge.  I am on a need to know basis, and right now, I do need to know.

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