Under a Red Roof

H E A R T

December 18, 2013 in Learning, Loving by Colleen | Permalink

Hello! Meet my almost great-niece, Luna. I say almost because we are not actually blood related, but even if we were, I couldn’t love her more than I already do. I was a mentor to her mom, Solveig (soul-vay), through the Big Brothers Big Sisters program some ten years ago and can’t imagine my life without her or Luna in it. The space they occupy in my heart is a wild kaleidescope, with me marveling at the fluid beauty of it every single day.

Luna is obviously adorable, a sweetheart of the highest degree, super smart, possessing very fine motor skills, and though she did not show it in these photos, the giver of the most dazzling smile! But that is only part of what I want to tell you. This sweet girl of almost ten months has Congenital Heart Defects. In case you are like I was and don’t know much about them, here are some facts compiled from the Congenital Heart Public Health Consortium:

Congenital means present at birth. Solveig actually learned of Luna’s defects while pregnant, at her 20-week appointment, which allowed her to take even better care of Luna while eagerly awaiting her arrival.

Congenital Heart Defects (CHDs) are the most common birth defects, occurring in almost 1% of births.

Common examples include holes in the inside walls of the heart and narrowed or leaky valves. In more severe forms, blood vessels or heart chambers may be missing, poorly formed, and/or in the wrong place.

Nearly 40,000 infants in the U.S. are born with CHDs and are the most common heart problem in pregnant women.

Over 85% of babies born with a CHD now live to at least 18 (very good news!). However, children born with more severe forms of CHDs are less likely to reach adulthood.

Surgery is often not a cure. Many individuals with CHDs require additional operations and/or medications as adults.

Most causes of CHDs are unkown (Luna’s too). Only 15 – 20% of all CHDs are related to known genetic conditions.

Luna has Transposition of the Great Arteries, a Ventricular Septal Defect, and Double ~~Outlet~~ Inlet Left Ventricle (Solveig corrected a mistake I made). In a nutshell, Luna’s heart has holes where they do not belong, an artery in the wrong place, as well as arteries connecting to the wrong chambers. To the best of my knowledge, this means her heart is only pumping blood to one chamber, mixing blood that should be separated, not allowing enough oxygenated blood to the rest of the body, and causing strain on the heart and lungs, which can lead to pretty serious complications.

She’s already had one surgery, two days after she was born, and will have another on Friday, to help correct the problem, though there is no magic bullet, unfortunately. So, if you would, please say a little prayer, send a little love, some healing thoughts, anything and everything you’ve got. I would be ever so grateful!

Frisky

July 10, 2013 in Learning by Colleen | Permalink

This morning, a boom summoned me to wake. One of those crazy moments when it seems the world is called to attention, but everything looks the same, only the racing of my heart and the weary gaze of the hubster to confirm it was not the stuff of dreams.

Then, later, but not much, there he was. Out near the little birdbath in the side yard, he hopped, right wing askew. We shared a moment of observation before I asked him if he was hurt.

Like I invoked some sort of dare, he darted vigorously across the yard and into the safe prickle of Oregon grape leaves.

His kind came and watched from high in the tree, called out, summoning him to join their search for bugs. Sadly, he could not.

The hubster, geared up for work, was called, and we worked to catch him. More arduous than I expected, the bird did not want to be captured. When the hubster did finally get him in his grasp, the little fellow’s lament was loud and wrenching.

I made him comfortable, with food, and water, and an old towel that kept him from skittering on the plastic of the cage. Then we sat for a bit, calmed our jittery hearts, and he closed his eyes slowly, maybe in pain, maybe just to shield them from the sun.

We drove together, through downtown, where he jumped and clung to the bars, the raucous roar of diesels and the cacophony of a city on lunch break so very much to bear.

Then it was up the winding road and the terror of one tunnel of darkness and then another. Finally we turned in the parking lot and the kind-faced man with the Red-Tailed Hawk, beautifully old and wizened, showed us the way.

There was hope and gratitude and the possibility of me releasing him back to the place he was found.

I got the call later that it was not meant to be, that wing no longer meant to fly.

And then I remembered last week, in the heat before the Fourth, when I watered the garden. A young flicker came, him, I am almost certain, and fluffed and preened and waddled before fluttering off, wings heavy with moisture, and how happy I felt to witness it. That is what I will try to keep.

Strange Day

March 15, 2013 in Learning, Remembering by Colleen | Permalink

I awoke with a start Monday morning, 3:45 on the button. The vise grip of some dark apparition around my left arm. As someone with a very high tolerance for pain, I was more than peeved. I wriggled and stretched and rubbed and won that first round, drifting back to sleep after about an hour. When I rose, it had returned and gotten worse, even spreading to my shoulder and back. I felt nauseous and it became increasingly difficult to fill my lungs. Then I remembered the cheesy “Just a Little Heart Attack” video with Elizabeth Banks, and wondered if I could be having one.

I dialed the advice line quick-like, and the nurse, when I described everything, told me to get to the hospital, and pronto. “Do not take a shower!” So the hubster zip-zipped our golden chariot to the emergency room in record time. Upon my arrival, I got a wheelchair and EKG stickers in places I’d never have thought to check. Sure enough, my little heart was at a full gallop, and that damn vise was no looser on my left arm, either.

The nurse asked if there was any possibility it could be a panic attack, and to quote a recent callous observer of my life, “Colleen, you have no real problems.” I concurred, despite the fact that having no real problems does not equate with a lack of feelings, save in the observer, the biatch. Until my arm got ensnared by some unseen evil, I’d been pretty snazzy.

So, more tests. I got my blood expertly drawn, twice (no bruising!), a chest x-ray that made me feel like I’d stepped into the world of the Incredible Hulk, and, saving the best for last, an ultrasound of my left arm, because, dag-nabbit, it might smart like a heart attack but be a right and proper blood clot, for those run in the family.

And this is where I must make note of the idiosyncrasies of medical professionals. On Monday, the nurses who drew my blood complimented my good veins. “So plump I could stab it without looking.” The ultrasound tech, who joked that he learned to use the machine over lunch, said, “Wow, you image very well. Look at that valve!” Then I remembered back to my hysterectomy and my anesthesiologist uttering, “You have a beautiful spine. I would love to give it an epidural.” And, finally, the nurse who emptied my catheter bag, holding the pitcher of urine like a trophy, exclaimed, “You have beautiful pee!” It’s a different world.

And back to mine. Despite the excitement and wonder my body provided and the battery of tests and nearly six hours spent waiting and wondering, no single resolution was made. I, Colleen Sohn, remain a person without any real problems. For the sake of speculation and for someone somewhere to get a good chuckle, the likeliest source of my horrible pain? A trio of muscles, the left bicep, deltoid, and pec pulled while sleeping or applying body oil. Oh bother, and a whole week thrown off kilter.

Happy Friday!

p.s. The photo is a detail of Richmond Burton’s “Echoing Green” at the Portland Art Museum. Pretty!

Dense

September 27, 2011 in Learning by Colleen | Permalink

Yup, them’s me boobs. I’m putting them in your face (“Do you want a Christmas card? Here’s your Christmas card!”) not to show off their perkiness or the pretty sweater, though it is a lovely color. J.Crew has my number, to be sure. No, I am putting them in your face in hopes of saving you a little anxiety.

I had my first mammogram last Thursday. They squished my boobs good and proper. Ouch! Then, yesterday, in the midst of my tomato canning extravaganza (seven jars of chutney and nine jars of plain-old chopped – huzzah!), I got the call that the radiologist needed additional images. Ugh.

I wasn’t exactly surprised. The nice lady who took the pictures started acting different after that first picture of my right boob. Though I certainly hoped it was my imagination. I have a writer’s mind, you know. I can make grand palaces of match sticks.

Luckily, they could get me in today, so I wouldn’t be sweating bullets and creating even more writerly scenarios in my fertile mind over a period of days. As it was, I thought of hardly anything else, didn’t sleep very well, and then, when I did, I had a nightmare about being cut open while I was awake and could feel it! Good times…

Anyhoo, I got there early and looked at Architectural Digest without really looking at it, biding my time. Then when my name was called, and I got to the little room with the machine, I started to cry. I did not want breast cancer. One of my best friends just went through it, and it was no party. No siree, Bob. So, Diane, the technician, literally held my hand and walked me through, step by step. It turns out my breast tissue is very thick and at certain angles doesn’t look so healthy.

She took more pictures, squishing my boob even more than the first lady. It’s not like there’s much to squish, either, so it hurt even more than the first time. Double ouch! Then I went back to the waiting room, had a cup of hot cocoa, wished for the hubster, and hoped for the best.

The next nice lady to help me was Kim. She let me know that I do, indeed, have very dense breasts and with that often comes this business of double checking, but I am a-ok. Relief! I hugged her and cried again. She also said to expect these kind of results in the future, so maybe I wouldn’t panic quite so much if I got a call back next year. It’s just a precaution. So a wish for me and you: Let’s not make mountains out of little dense boobs, shall we?

Tags: second mammogram

Ch-Ch-Changes

September 26, 2011 in Cooking + Baking, Learning, Thinking by Colleen | Permalink

Sorry, I’ve got no Bowie picture, but how about Mr. Reynolds on a natural gas outlet? Cheeky monkey…

Anyway, happy Monday, readers! I hope you are well and that your week is off to a good start. Mine was a little questionable yesterday after a hacker wreaked some havoc Under a Red Roof. Thank goodness for my superstar hubster, or I would probably still be weepy and cursing the mean people of the universe, and you’d be seeing a giant HACKED message across the screen instead of my spin on the world.

As a result of all this business, I’ve decided to no longer have comments on the blog. It’s been a long time coming, really. Though you don’t see them, I get a lot more spam than actual messages from sweet readers, and it was becoming a hassle. Then Mr. Evil came along, and I decided that I’d rather not deal with it, especially if it meant the black screen of death. That being said, I do love knowing that you’re out there, so feel free to hit the Contact Me tab, and we can chat in a more personal fashion. There’s also the Facebook, Google +, and Stumbleupon buttons at the end of the post, for those of you who want the simplicity of a click. Here’s hoping this is a happy medium and that we can streamline the buttons in the near future, too. Like life, it’s a work in progress!

I wish I could stay and chat a while, but I’ve got a date with a box of tomatoes – chutney anyone?

Tags: spicy tomato chutney