When someone else is going through something you've gone through

Your ability to feel real empathy is triggered.

I'm experiencing this right now as one of my best friend's brother-&-sister-in-law prepare for a living donor organ transplant. My friend's husband's brother will receive a kidney from his wife.

The circumstances are very similar. Steve is an insulin dependent diabetic who has many of the same complications Mark does. Retinopathy and kidney disease are just two. Steve and his wife Tiffanie are also young like us (ish).

I've not personally given my husband an organ (would that I could!), but Mark and I have been through the transplant process (cadaver donated). The myriad appointments and tests, waiting on pins and needles for the go ahead, preparing for surgery, waiting through the procedure itself, learning the hospital like the back of your hand, getting to know your new best friends called nurses, watching lab results like a hawk, getting used to the effects of immunosuppressants, cheering for urine, doing laps with an IV pole around the transplant floor. The fear and worry. The giddy excitement and pure joy upon hearing the transplant was a success.

When Steve and Tiffanie came down (they live in Alaska) for a consultation with the transplant team back in April, I got to sit down and talk with Tiffanie. I felt an immediate connection through shared experiences with our husbands. And our feelings about those experiences. There was so much head nodding. I knew we had to be connected so I friended her on Facebook right away, and subsequently asked my friend about how Steve and Tiffanie were doing every chance I got.

Now that they're here preparing for the actual transplant I find myself feeling nearly as anxious, ansty, nervous and concerned as I would be if it were Mark. They've hit a road block with an infection that must be treated before the transplant can be done, and surgery has been postponed for two weeks.

Of course they are keeping their chins up and staying positive, but I know the frustration that is also there. When things like this happen it becomes so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

One might wonder if I'm jealous at all. I am not. I am rooting for them with everything I've got. I am so excited that they are able to do this, and that Steve will be healthier. It's not as if Mark hasn't had this same opportunity before. The fact that his transplanted organs (kidney and pancreas) stopped working after only six years is no one's fault.

I could never begrudge anyone who is able to receive an organ transplant that enormous gift and blessing. I want it so badly for anyone who needs it, and I feel very frustrated, no angry, when someone loses their life because they didn't get one. Like our friend Cindy who recently passed away waiting for a liver.

I can empathize with Tiffanie's thoughts, feelings, motives and fears where the health of her husband is concerned. Beyond that, however, I am in awe of her sacrifice of one of her own kidneys in order to improve Steve's quality of life. She is a strong and determined woman and I admire her.

I find myself getting emotional about it, actually. I started this post hoping I could explain why, but I keep finding myself stunted in finding the words. Suffice it to say, I -- Mark and I -- GET IT. All of it. On so many levels.

I cannot emphasize enough how important it is for each and every individual without some sort of pre-existing condition to be a registered organ donor! Not only that, but to keep an open heart and be willing to donate a loved one's tissue and organs if ever presented with that choice.

Life With Kids: A Pictorial

I have two kids.

My oldest, a daughter, named Camryn Rose. She is 13.

And a son we call AJ, for Alexander Jared. He is 7 1/2.

This is what life with them looks like.

1. Lots of PB&Js

2. Girl Scouts

3. Chillin'

4. Boy stuff

5. The family bed

(with a kitty photo bomb)

6. Bikes. In the grass.

7. Girly stuff, aka growing up

8. Report cards

9. Fun new experiences

(blueberry picking)

10. Sweetness

Linked up with Monday Listicles!

This one time when I went camping

It was the summer of 1987, between my 7th and 8th grade school years. I was 13. The same age my daughter is now.

My mom, step-dad and I went to Yosemite. Have you ever been? It's an awe-inspiring place. Massive monoliths, cascading waterfalls and green valleys. Gorgeous!

We set up camp in a spacious site. I had my own small tent. It made me feel cool, like I was especially mature, and of course not afraid to sleep by myself in the woods.

We spent several days there; the better part of a week, I'm sure.

Lots of hikes, picnics and photo opps....

Until one day, right before a hike, my tummy hurt a little. I went to the bathroom and thought maybe there was a spot of something in my underwear. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I decided not to say anything yet.

We hiked and headed back to our campsite for dinner. After cleaning up and putting everything away so bears couldn't get to it, my mom and I headed to the bathroom.

This time I noticed more of something in my underwear.

"Uh, mom....?" I called. "I kinda need you to see this."

I let her into my stall and she looked. "Oh! You started your period."

"Really? Is that really what it is?", I asked, incredulously.

"Looks that way to me!", she confirmed.

She told me she'd run and get me a clean pair of underwear. I sat there on the toilet processing this little turn of events.

I got my period!

OMG, I can't believe I started my period while camping, when I don't have anything!

Buoyed by clean underwear and some wadded up toilet paper my mom and I walked back to the campsite. We were sitting around the fire awhile later when my mom had a revelation: "Jennifer can't sleep by herself tonight, a bear might smell her!"

OH. MY. GOD.

"Mom!!", I wailed.

But she was adamant. I had to sleep in their tent for protection from period sniffing bears.

I did. No bears got me. I survived. Barely.







I was prompted to tell this story by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.

You Want to Tell Me What You Really Think?

The anonymous guest post I published while on my little vacay earlier this month seems to have been well-received.

I even got a tweet from a fellow blogger that she thinks anonymous posts are a great idea.

So here's what I want to do. I would like to offer you, yes YOU, any one of YOU, whether you are a blogger or writer or never write anything ever, a place to unload something that's bugging you.

Could be that you are a blogger but everyone you know reads it and therefore you feel limited in what you can and can't say because Aunt Martha might see that you don't like her apple pie all that much and it will really hurt her feelings.

Or perhaps whatever's on your mind is completely off-topic from what you normally blog about.

Might be that you don't blog, but maybe you have an issue eating at you that if maybe you could just get it out, you'd feel better.

Maybe there is a current events topic that you see everyone feeling one way about, but you happen to have a different perspective that others haven't thought of, like my first guest.

You should put that shit out there!

You want guidelines and rules, right?

• Send your post to me at jenannhallblog (at) gmail (dot) com.
• I'm not going to publish anything hate-filled. Don't even try to send me that crap.
• You can tell me to keep you anonymous, OR you can have me use your name and link to you, your choice.
• Must be original content. I'm not interested in publishing something you've already put out to the Interwebs. Kinda not the point.
• Please proofread and spell check before you send to me. On the other hand, I reserve the right to make minor edits.
• I will reply to your email with the date I plan to publish. If you're posting anonymously, I understand you not replying to comments, but if we know who you are, you probably should.
• You can attach a photo you'd like me to use, as long as I can't get in trouble for using it, or I will look for an image.

Sound good?

Not sure yet about how often I will publish these kinds of posts. It depends on how many I get, I suppose.

So yeah, bring it on! And tell your friends.

Tell Me What You Really Think

When I knew I would be away for a few days I decided I'd like some kind of guest post from someone. I mentioned this to a friend and asked if she'd like to do me this bloggy favor. She doesn't normally express herself in such a way, so I thought she might like the opportunity. She said yes, but needed to be anonymous.

Turns out she totally had something she needed to get off her chest. Please read her personal perspective on the health insurance industry and Angelina Jolie. What do the two have in common? I asked the same question. Like me, you'll see.

__________

I work for my health insurance company.

I have been a hard working employee for almost two decades now. I understand they are my bread and butter. They allow me to bring home the bacon so I can do whatever I please with it. I believe in the work I do.

I am also in debt due to medical expenses. Take a moment to reread the opening line of this post again, go ahead I'll wait. I have had to sell stocks and borrow from my 401K to pay medical bills accumulated within a year's worth of time for my family of four. My kids' pediatrician told me to pack up my kids and take a hike because he's "not a bank" and doesn't extend lines of credit. Of course, he waited until I paid him in full to tell me that.

The cause is not due to how I choose to fry my bacon, but in how my health insurance company, my employer, wants to share the expense of health care with me.

Who knew we would long for the days of HMOs! The trend is in establishing consumerism in health care. People will think about how they spend thier own money but not a big corporation. So, the health care industry came up with high deductible health plans to get us thinking about if we really need to rush to the Emergency Room or if the urgent care center will do. And if the urgent care center is okay, then can I wait till the morning to see my regular physician?

My deductible per family member is almost $3,000.00.  This means for anything not related to preventive care I have to pay the discounted rate my health insurance company negotiated with the doctor, until which time I have spent $3,000.00 of my own money. That's a lot of bacon.

Once an individual has paid out that chunk of change, the insurance company will then start paying, but only a percentage. Most times it's 70-80%, afterall, we are sharing the cost remember? There is a cap, so if I get hit by a bus I can actually be thankful I didn't die as I lay in my hospital bed accumulating a new bill for every set of eyes that look my way.

My worst year, the year my pediatrician gave us the one fingered salute, I had a scare when I found a lump in my breast. Because I am a bit more educated than the average health care consumer, and because I have access to the contracts my health insurance company has with the imagining center that was to provide the mammogram services, I felt confident in my choice to spend the money to see if I had breast cancer instead of waiting a few months to see if the lump got any bigger.

Yep, those were my options. My husband and I budgeted for the $400 test, we took time off of work, and I showed up to my appointment on time. They waited until I was naked and had a valium before they decided to mention, "By the way, we gave you the wrong codes. This is going to cost a little more than the codes we gave you."

Yes, I had the option to leave, but I didn't. Come to find out the procedure cost $1,500.00 plus the cost of the doctor, etc, etc. Because my deductible is so high that means it was my responsibility to pay every penny. But wait! My employer offers me a health savings account where I am able to allocate funds from my paycheck tax free to pay my medical bills. Whew.....hey man, it's still my money. *sigh. In all fairness they do put in $36 a paycheck to help me out. Swell, ain't it?

So here comes Angelina Jolie telling us what a brave and wonderful soul she is for having her breasts removed as a preventative measure. Oh honey, that's a rich lady problem. Us poor folk actually have to HAVE cancer to rid our breasts of the bad tissue. We have to make choices and budget just to have a test to look at our breasts when a problem arises! 

It is estimated that a double mastectomy costs over $50,000.00. The website for my insurance company won't even attempt to estimate the cost for me AND will only give me the estimate for a preventive mammography, not one to check out a lump.

Health care consumerism coupled with a total lack of information in which to educate yourself equals bankruptcy for many. But don't blame the insurance company; well not totally. Your employer determines what kind of coverage you will be offered. Especially the larger companies, they make all the decisions including offering executives coverage for elective plastic surgery. Chew on that!

In March 2013 Time magazine ran a story called "Bitter Pill", where they exposed the cost versus the billed amount for common medical services. A bag of saline solution will cost you $84 although it retails for $5.16. I remember this because I texted a picture of this from the article to my friend to let her know her recent trip to the ER resulted in about $350 of saline being dumped into her eyes.

article snippet & image source

How does ObamaCare come into play? Well besides keeping me busy at work making updates, the only thing it has done for the average Joe & Jane is to eliminate any cost share for preventive services. Great. Most health insurance paid for those once yearly services in full already. But I'm sure the trillions it is costing will make it worth while to someone. 

In closing, healthcare is still broken. Angelina is still the harpie that broke our Friend Jen's heart. And most American women have to get cancer to treat cancer.

__________

Now this has got me thinking......perhaps I should open up my blog to those who might like to post something anonymously. I might need to know who you are, just for the sake of submissions, but I can keep a secret. Please let me know if this is something you'd be interested in by sending me an email to jenannhallblog (at) gmail (dot) com.

Oh, and please still feel free to express YOURSELF in the comments. I will happily receive them on behalf of my anonymous friend!

We Don't Travel

We're hittin' the road today. We are taking our kids to "Grandma & Grandpa Summer Camp", staying for a few days and coming home for 10 days without them.

It's cool, it's awesome....we get kid-free time, they get to shoot BB guns....it's win/win!

Except for my anxiety that everyone on the road wants to take us out, or that Mark and I will go a little more insane every time our son asks if we're there yet.

On the other hand, it's the only trip we've taken as a family in two years.

Travelling is a big undertaking for anyone. Add in someone who needs dialysis, plus someone who cannot drive, and you might understand why we don't do it much.

My BFF says I've mastered the art of the staycation. I told her that's a nice way to spin it!

When we do decide to take the plunge, it is always to visit some branch of the family tree because everyone is scattered in various areas of the West Coast. Our usual destinations are Lake Tahoe, CA where my mother lives, Orange County, CA where Mark's mom and sister live and a little podunk town in Oregon, called Umpqua, where Mark's dad lives. We also occasionally hit Sacramento and Chico, CA, where other family and friends live.

Not bad destinations by any means, buuuuuuttt there's nothing new. We've never been to Hawaii. I've never seen the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone or the Rockies. We've never been to the East Coast. In fact, the only time I've left this country was on two day trips up to British Columbia. No Mexico, no cruises or Europe. I've been to Las Vegas once and Florida once.

Travel is just not something we get to do much of. I think it will probably always be this way.

Most of the time it doesn't bother me too much. You know me, I'm mostly just grateful for what I have.

But I gotta admit I do feel twinges of jealousy when I hear about others' vacations. I mean c'mon, we all know a trip to visit family isn't the true definition of a VACATION. Now before any family members reading this (MOM) get all butthurt, you know what I mean. Saying it's not technically a vacation doesn't mean I don't want to do it or don't appreciate it.

A real vacation is going somewhere solely because it sounds cool and just to have fun. It's where you get to let your children run amok with very few rules (or better yet, don't take them with you at all), sit down and let others serve you yummy cocktails with little umbrellas in them, not cook or clean for yourself.....that kind of thing.

When we make the effort, and spend what little money we have, to travel, it just makes the most sense that it include family and friends we don't get to see often. I would feel so guilty if I had the money to take a trip and decided to go somewhere that had nothing to do with anyone.

Don't even get me started on blogging conferences. I would love to get to go to one. Not only is it not financially feasible ($400 for a ticket to BlogHer??), but I also have so much anxiety over leaving my husband alone. I worry so much that something awful will happen and I'm miles and miles away. It's an awful feeling.

This not traveling much thing? It isn't anything anyone can fix. It is what it is. I just needed to express it because it's been on my mind as the summer travel season began and everyone's lovely vacay pics started flooding my Instagram feed. It's yet another thing I don't have in common with other people, that makes me different.

I do live vicariously through all the pictures and whathaveyous from other people's vacations. And I know this little trip we're on right now will be fun. I also pay attention to the tweets during blogging conferences, and read some of the follow-up posts about them to see if there's anything I can learn.

I don't sit and stew in icky, green jealousy juices. I'm not one to covet what others have because I know what it might look like to me is not necessarily the way it really is. It's just, you know, intermittent feelings, thoughts, moments....

Doesn't open til tomorrow, but still.

Our Land of Empathy and Wonder

Once upon a time, on April 11, Kristi Campbell wrote a blog post she titled

The Land of Empathy and Wonder.

And it was good.

It was so good, and so well-received, that her bloggy peers encouraged her to start

a series of guest posts in which other bloggers could express

what they would like to see in "Our Land".

I am beyond honored to be the contributor this week

for the Our Land series on Finding Ninee!

Please click HERE to go there to read the post I wrote, in which I assert:

It is my belief that a Land of Empathy and Wonder need not be just some romantic dream.

I believe it can be real.

Seriously. Please do. And maybe check out some of the other posts in the series too.
Because it is really something special.

Yes, I'm asking you to please click from here to another blog to read the actual post I wanted to link up with the Moonshiners. I would have asked Kristi if she'd be willing to add the badge to the post on her site, but I know she's out of town for the weekend. Really hope you don't mind the extra click!