Back Breaking Benefits

This has been an October full of suck. It's usually my favorite month but between family and friends illness, personal injury and mourning a family loss... I'm kind of done.

Yesterday I went for a follow up for my own trip to the ER, because you know once in a week was clearly not enough. It's the first day I feel well enough to sit in a car since last Friday (and maybe a chair for any period of time). The residual effect of the pain meds the hospital prescribed have left me on bed rest with an upset stomach for almost a week.

I call, and gently remind the receptionist at my primary care provider's office of my condition, tell her it's to follow up because of my ER trip... I have to say that three times before it clicks with her. Then we go in.

Despite the fact that I'd been there the week before for a condition that had worsened, and to follow up the ER visit, we have to wait. We wait a long time. And Ondine is starting to act like any other toddler. And because it's a doctors office there other crying babies. But these don't bother me. They actually make me smile, almost longing for when she was little and things were so much easier. Then I snap back to reality and remember it was NOT easy.

The one dad takes his son outside for a moment to calm him down. When he comes back inside I can't help myself. I shout at him.

Me: Oh my God, does he have a bilateral cleft lip and pallet?

Bewildered (slightly embarrassed) father: Yes.

Me: He's beautiful.

Bewildered (slightly less embarrassed) father: Thank you.

Me: My daughter had the exact same condition.

She goes running by. A beautiful smile, no scar. He doesn't seem to believe me. We start to chat back and forth, my husband and I start sharing our story.

I show him where she started, which was much worse than where his son is for the pallet and lip. I show him more photos of her journey, the device she had to wear, the tape on her tiny cheeks. We talk about the doctors and the NAM molding that didn't work for his son but Ondine would be the poster child for. His sons name is Evan and he has a secondary condition I don't remember. He will have many more surgeries than Ondine because of it, but I would never know to look at his precious smile.

Evan's dad asks us if people ever stared, or gawked. Yes.

I tell him how it took some time to get over myself and not give a damn what anyone thought. I can tell that it takes the guilt and frustration off his shoulders to know someone else was judged the same way, to know that someone else felt they had to explain their situation because it is no ones fault that they were born with a cleft.

His wife comes out on crutches. She tore her ACL. She and I make a fine pair in our struggle to take care of our children with our injuries. 

She sits to feed Evan using a familiar pigeon bottle prescribed for such patients. We tell her some of the same stories we shared with her husband. We ALL complain how tired we were with the first bottle we had to use, grateful when they prescribed the new one. 

We have read some of the same blogs from Seattle Children's site, and heard some of the same stories. It's actually makes me forget about my back and my wait time for  my appointment because it's such an honor to talk to another family who's going through the same thing we did.

We keep talking. No one should cry because other moms, with their perfectly healthy babies, make them feel judged- but we both experienced it. I tell her I only pumped until 4 months but then broke down in tears that I wasn't a good mom because I couldn't feed my own baby. She almost cried, because she didn't make it even that long and thought she was the only one. 

I can see the relief on both of their faces to see our before and after photos. There is nothing that a doctor or expert can say that will be the same as seeing first hand the before and after. There is nothing that can replace the anxiety with the assurance that everything will be alright as witnessing someone else who has passed through the fire before you, with you can.

I am really grateful I injured my back. You see, we were supposed to be somewhere else Wednesday evening. But somewhere else didn't happen. My appointment took too long.  And because of that we were able to share Ondine's Journey with someone new. I can't begin to tell you how the light I saw on their faces, in their eyes, when I told them "I know how you feel" and they knew that I could actually say so. 

There is nothing that takes away the fear of taking a child to a hospital completely, but I'm grateful I suffered a little so that these strangers would know they were not alone and find hope.

Midnight Rush

It's 20 to midnight. The Seahawks lost. My husband is sick, my back is out, and just I'm case today wasn't awesome enough, Ondine decided tonight would be a good night for a hospital run.

So were here, waiting for meds to kick in so they can stitch up her absurdly deep gash from her acrobatic flip over my lazy boy chair. Oi. Vey. 

With all that in mind, I'm so grateful for Seattle Children's Hospital. Their staff is efficient, kind and dedicated. It may be the night shift, but they're as bright-eyed as if they just got here. The nurses have tricks to get kids to calm down or focus on something other than the exam at hand and, just in case, there's helpful kids movies to watch for kiddo distraction.

So while I'm in really severe (read I can't hardly walk myself) back pain and my husband is having trouble breathing normal, at least we can take short stuff to this grade A hospital with top of their class staff to attend her owies large and small.

I love my emerald city, especially our fantastic Children's hospital.

Life's Curve Balls Stink Like... Well, Balls

I had a plan. It was a beautiful plan. Go to Spokane away from all distractions and write. It was simple, clean and everything I needed to be an effective and creative writer.

Then sometimes, life has other plans.

For the first several days, I did not get more than 2 pages written. Because as an independent filmmaking team, we often write our own contracts. They're typically straightforward and to the point of "if you do this we do this and we all agree to this." I think 5 pages might be the longest contract we've ever written with some very specific points of definition in them. It was several days of hashing those out, and to satisfy our investors, we are still working on them, negotiating terms so that our expectation are fully established in ink before we move forward. But the work had to be done.

I got a little more writing and a surprise visit from my husband and daughter for our 4th Wedding Anniversary. It was a beautiful and appreciated relief from all that legal and business jargon I loathe so much. But it was out to the farm very shortly after where I could write, ride, and shoot as needed.

Nope. Family, allergies that kicked my rear and other business to attend to.

I quickly found a way to get myself away from it all with no phone, no email, no nothing but the sweet sound of clickety-clack of my keyboard. I got 30 pages in. I was on FIRE! It was amazing, to know that it wasn't my inability to write through writers block, it was so many distractions I couldn't focus. Glorious day!

Too bad the bed at the lake is so awful I threw out my back. I mean big time. I couldn't walk, was sort of tipped to one side and really the only position remotely comfortable was sitting... for about 5 seconds before I was in pain again. Back to town for some medical evaluations.

It took nearly 4 days, a bottle of anti-inflammatories a chiropractic visit and a massage therapy session to get to a place where sitting/standing/sleeping was not painful. I went back to the lake, alone and prepared to write. I had a day and a half by myself before the family would join me for the 4th. I got 20 pages in.

So now, I'm back in Seattle. Been here a few days with my 50 pages I was able to accomplish in the 4 days I had of actual writing time. Not bad if I do say so myself. Now, for the last 40....

It's a Full Time J-O-B

My typical work day.

Let's get something straight.

What I do for a living is FUN. I enjoy it. If I did not I would work at a law firm and be the best damn office services manager you've ever met. I did that for a long time, working 40 hours a week in the corporate world while I came home and worked another 40 hours on film so that I could keep building my path towards the career I actually wanted.

When my daughter was born, I had to make a change. I didn't have 80 hours a week to devote to two jobs, because 75% of my time was consumed by family obligations. So I left the law firm and made a full-time commitment to working as a freelance filmmaker.

Some people say I'm crazy. How can you do that to your family? It's so unstable. You'll never make a living.

Location scouting on our anniversary with our daughter.

I actually do. It's not a luxury filled living. But it is a living.  I have set rates, and expectations to deliver certain product based on those rates. They vary slightly, from project to project because I'm not unreasonable. I understand that you are a small business just trying to build you brand, so I make an exception and tell you the bare minimum I can work for, typically my overhead cost for living that month. I mean even attorney's will work Pro Bono if the case is a good reflection of the lawyers morals (or it makes them look good to the public, but I digress).

My point is this. Filmmaking is not your typical "day-job." The hours fluctuate. The work is in constant evolution, and the likelihood that you will be booking the next gig while on vacation is high. Workaholic is a common label slapped on us, because we rarely turn off. And to be honest, my vacation is a day I haven't booked where I get to take my daughter to the zoo.

Filmmaking feeds my soul and feeds my family.  It might be a creative, but it's still a job. You wouldn't ask an architect to design you a new home for free. You couldn't justify asking a master carpenter to build you an ornate cabinet out of oak for free. You certainly wouldn't solicit a marketing firm - a HIGHLY CREATIVE JOB- to market your business for free.

So the next time you ask a filmmaker to work for you please consider this: This is not a hobby. This is my J-O-B.

Directing my actor on a short film.

Want to see what I do? Visit our website and take a  look. We make dreams come true.

www.faithvsfateproductions.com

Hospital Run

Miserable and Unhappy Baby.

Being sick sucks. It's even worse when your kid is sick because you can't tell them they'll be ok, and you can't ask them to explain what hurts. You just have to hold them and try to make them comfortable.

I have never considered myself a helicopter mom. I believe a little dirt is good for her. I believe that learning by trial and error is also good. But at 2:30 am, the 102 fever had not gone down in 24 hours and the breathing became labored. It was time to make a hospital run.

She breathed heavy for the entire drive. It was a little surreal driving up Penny Drive at Seattle Children's when it was pitch black out. We got into the ER and we checked in.

The nurse and the Resident came in to begin exams for heart, weight, temperature. Typical questions: How long has she been like this? Two days? What was her temperature when you checked it last. 102. When did you notice the change? Late Thursday she had a cough, Friday it was a temperature and cough. Tonight her breathing changed. Any idea where she might have contracted it? Well she and her baby friends were swapping bottles like they were at a wine tasting, so my guess is there. All work stopped while the nurse and resident got a hold of themselves from hysteric giggles. Apparently I'm funny.

Cuddle Time!

One we got through the crux of it, they said she did have some wheezing sounds, but they sounded nasal, not chest. The on-call doctor made the final exam and said he was sending her home. Keep an eye on her but there was nothing to do but wait it out and make her comfortable. If it got worse, come back but right now this was just her body's natural and normal response to a virus.

We were home by 3:30 am. We got her some cough syrup approved for toddlers 12 months and over called Zarabee's that proved to be most effective at both suppressing her cough and helping her kick it. 

Back to normal. Oh thank God.