A Love Hate Relationship

I have a love/hate relationship with this not so attractive machine.

Probably for the last 10 years, every time Noah would get sick or just have a check up, a nurse or doctor would ask if we have a suction machine for Noah. We would always say "no" and that would be the end of the conversation. In the back of my mind I would always think, Noah isn't that sick. We don't need on of those machines. I hated the idea of using a machine that I would use to suck all the gunk out of Noah. How disgusting that even sounded.

Well, about January of this year the question came up again, "Do you have a suction machine for Noah?" "No" Instead of the conversation stopping there again, Noah's pulminologist decided that he would benefit from one. How devastated I felt. The machine was ordered and it was dropped by on our doorstep. I thought to myself now what do I do with this thing. It had no instructions, I was I supposed to know how to hook it up let alone know how to use this stupid thing. I wanted to throw it to the curb and never see it again!!! I took a deep breath and decided to look on the Internet to figure out how to hook it up and use it. Within an hour I had it hooked up and running. Now to actually use it......

A few weeks later Noah ended up with a cold. Well, here goes nothing. A prayer was said and I turned on that stupid machine and proceeded to suction out Noah's nose and throat. Hey, that wasn't so bad. I can do this!!!! I've since fallen in love with that stupid machine. Since I've used it on Noah he has yet had to be on a antibiotic when he gets a cold.

This last weekend Noah made himself sick by stressing out about a flat tire. (Yeah, I know what a silly thing to get stressed out about.) He ran a 104 fever and was very gunky. That stupid machine was used several times and along with his Vest and inhalers, he is now fever free.

Thanks to that stupid machine, there were no visits to the doctor or antibiotics. Noah has a reason to be his goofy self again and I've fallen in love with that stupid machine again.

I Am the Disabled Child

I am the Disabled Child





I am the child who cannot talk.You often pity me. I see it in your eyes.You wonder how much I am aware of...I see that as well.I am aware of much...whether you are happy or sad or fearful,patient or impatient, full of love and desire, or if you are just doing your duty to me.I marvel at your frustration, knowing mine to be far greater, for I cannot express myself nor my needs as you do.You cannot conceive my isolation, so complete it is at times.I do not gift you with clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated.I do not give you answers to your everyday questions,responses over my well-being, sharing my needs,or comments about the world around me.I do not give you rewards as defined by the world's standards...great strides in development that you can credit yourself.I do not give you understanding as you know it.What I give you is so much more valuable...I give you instead opportunities.Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not mine;the depth of your love, your commitment, your patience,your abilities; the opportunity to explore your spirit more deeply than you imagined possible.I drive you further than you ever go on your own,working harder, seeking answers to your many questions,creating questions with no answers.I am the child who cannot talk.

I am the child who cannot walk.The world sometimes seems to pass me by.You see the longing in my eyes to get out of this chair,to run and play like other children.There is much you take for granted.I want the toys on the top shelf.I need to go to the bathroom...oh...I've dropped my spoon again!I am dependent on you in these ways.My gift to you is to make you aware of your great fortune,your healthy back and legs, your ability to do for yourself.Sometimes people appear not to notice me; I always notice them.I feel not so much envy as desire, desire to stand upright, to put one foot in front of the other, to be independent.I give you awareness.I am the child who cannot walk.





I am the child who is mentally impaired.I don't learn easily, if you judge me by the world's measuring stick.What I do know is infinite joy in the simple things.I am not burdened as you are with the strifes and conflicts or a more complicated life.My gift to you is to grant you the freedom to enjoy things as a child,to teach you how much your arms around me mean, to give you love.I give you the gift of simplicity.I am the child who is mentally impaired.

I am the disabled child.





I am your teacher.If you allow me, I will teach you what is really important in life.I will give you and teach you unconditional love.I give you my innocent trust, my dependency upon you.I teach you respect for others and their uniqueness.I teach you about the sanctity of life.I teach you about how very precious life is and about not taking things for granted.I teach you about forgetting your own needs and desires and dreams.I teach you giving.Most of all, I teach you Hope and Faith.





I am the Disabled Child



~Author Unknown~

Happy Birthday Scott/ Old Photo Friday

Today is Scott's 47th birthday. We have known each other for 31 of those years and have been married for 22 1/2. What an awesome husband and Dad he has turned out to be. The last 6 months I've prayed every morning to have a better attitude and asked God to help me see what a awesome person he is. I can honestly say I feel much better about our relationship today than I did 6 months ago.

Happy Birthday sweetie, I love you.

Shopping

Emily, Noah and I went to Walmart. I thought I would try and put Noah in the back of the cart. I feel it worked really well. Before ABR this could have never happened. His trunk wasn't strong enough to support himself. But look at him now.....

Actually we had the check out lady ask us if he really liked being in there. With this goofy smile what do you think?

Some people just don't get it. When Emily was getting ready to check out her purse was caught on his foot. She pulled and told him, "Give that to me" ( He had a big grin on his face and was laughing.) The check out lady came over and asked if Noah was Emily's brother. I said " Yes" and she said " I thought so when she got nasty with him" Geez lady you have no idea what your talking about. Some people!!!

Angels on his shoulders.....

Scott and I helped out at the Tim Hess Memorial Scramble grilling hotdogs for the golfers. It was a lot of fun helping out.

Team Clough ready to celebrate their birdie putt.

After we were finished grilling hot dogs we went out to see the bench on the 18th tee. It was made and dedicated to Keith Bloom (Scott's Uncle) and William Sheaffer ( Scott's Dad)

It's like seeing Scott's guardian angels on his shoulders.