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The day I gave up my voice.

[Graphic from Speed4Sarah website.]

As my part of the #whatwouldyougive? fundraiser, I gave up my voice for a day. The fundraiser, started by Sarah Coglianese, raises funds for ALS research by having participants give up one ability that an ALS patient might/will give up in the course of their disease. (I had to start a day early because I thought I’d be driving west with 2 kids and a dog starting 8/1.)

One type of ALS is called bulbar onset and starts in the bulbar region.

Progressive Bulbar Palsy (PBP) – was originally described by Duchenne in 1860. In approximately 25 percent of people with ALS, the initial symptoms begin in muscles innervated by the lower brainstem that control articulation, chewing and swallowing. Sometimes the disease remains in this form for years, but usually it progresses to generalized muscle weakness, that is, to ALS. When the disease is strictly limited to the bulbar muscles clinically and electrodiagnostically, it is PBP, not classical ALS. (from The ALS Hope Foundation website.)

For people with Bulbar onset ALS, one of the first things to go is their voice. This must be very strange when an otherwise healthy looking person is out in public yet can’t respond verbally to normal conversation. This has opened my eyes to handicapped parking spaces and placards too. How many times have we seen a healthy looking person parking in the handicapped parking space with a placard? I’ve been like, “Oh yeah, you look REALLY handicapped!” Now I suspend judgment.

Last Friday I gave up my voice as part of the #WhatWouldYouGive? ALS fundraiser. Here’s how it went:

7AM I woke up first. Kids came down around 7:45AM and remembered I wasn’t talking. They enjoyed the novelty of it – were uncharacteristically shy and polite to me. They also made a game of trying to figure out what I was communicating to them through gestures. It was fun at first – trying to remind them of all the things I typically bark out on the mornings we wake up late. (OK that’s been every morning this summer.) They had camp at 9 so had to eat, get dressed and get hair brushed (on odd days). G hustled them out the door and then took off to sell a kayak. Being alone for a few hours made this challenge super easy. The only thing that came up was during my morning (ie. weekly) jog was when people said hello to me I could only smile back. Did they think I was a snob? Usually I find any reason to talk to people especially if it gets me a short break from running.

G got home around 11AM. When he came in he acted shy and quiet. He barely spoke to me. I sat in the dining room on my laptop and emailed him suggestions for the day’s plans to his laptop in the kitchen. Otherwise he pretty much avoided/ignored me. Did he think HE was participating in the challenge? If so, why hadn’t he started a fundraising page? Or did he think that since I wasn’t talking I also couldn’t hear?

We agreed to pick up the kids at 12:30PM and head to G’s favorite BBQ joint – 12 Bones here in Asheville. We rode silently in the car but I did think to bring a pad of paper and a pen in case I needed to tell him something. When we arrived at the art museum (where the camp is) I realized it was the last day of camp and couldn’t very well go collect the kids without saying thank you and good-bye to the teacher. G understood so I waited in the car and he went to get the kids.

When they got in the car they remembered I wasn’t talking. They were still excited about it. We got to the BBQ place and stood outside in line. Usually I figure out what to order for the kids. So I wrote on my pad what I was getting then I decided to let G take care of the kids for once. I wondered what people next to us in line thought about me answering everything via writing on a notepad. When we got to the front of the line G had to order. The guy at the counter looked at me expectantly but I remained awkwardly mute. G ordered (I thought wrongly) for the kids. I was unable to remind the kids to say “Thank you” when he handed them their cups. I went to get water at the soda machine. It was crowded and I tried to wrangle the kids in a line in front of me but since I couldn’t say “Excuse me” or even “Sorry” it was more difficult than usual. When we sat to eat Bea didn’t like her sandwich at all. I smugly thought, “I wouldn’t have ordered that for her.”

After lunch the girls and I made a bathroom stop on the way out. There was one woman in line in front of us but Bea didn’t see her and raced in front of her to the bathroom door. Normally I would’ve nipped that in the bud but I couldn’t! So Bea tried the door to discover it was locked, looked at me and I was able to gesture for her to come back to our spot in line. M told her we had to get in line. Once inside the bathroom, it was impossible for me to remind the girls to hurry up. So they didn’t. M sat on the toilet chatting for a while. I tried gesturing in a circular motion with my hands as I knew there was a line outside. Ay yi yi. When she was good and ready she finished her business. I couldn’t even tell the next person that I wasn’t the one who stunk up the bathroom!

Leaving the restaurant for the parking lot there was no way to remind the kids not to run across so instead I had to grab their hands. Usually I just remind them, “We’re walking across the parking lot so we need to be careful of cars.”

It was over 90 degrees out so we headed to the pool. When we got there we discovered I had neglected to put the girls’ swimsuits in the bag so we had to go ALL THE WAY home to get them. Back to the pool – G had to take care of the payment when we got in. I took the kids into the changing room. After hours of quiet disciplined fun at art camp, sitting at the restaurant and driving around in the hot car, they went haywire – running around screaming, dragging the clothes/towels through the puddles on the floor, opening the door to my changing cubical. I forgot I wasn’t talking here and yelled at them, “KNOCK IT OFF! YOU’LL BOTH LOSE TV IF YOU DON’T STOP THAT!” which was not only breaking the no talking commitment but also just as effective as it usually is.

In the pool things were fine until my kids refused to share their pool toys. You know the little weighted squids and rockets you drop to the bottom of the pool and then retrieve? Bea acts just like Root Beer at the dog park. He has no interest in his tennis ball unless another dog wants to play with it. Then he become ferocious and suddenly the most tennis ball loving playmate you’ve ever met. Bea is like this with pool toys. Normally this is a teachable moment which I use to discuss playing out in a public park and that if we take toys to the park then we need to share them. If we take sidewalk chalk and paint brushes, they are for everyone to use. But I couldn’t say anything and the other children who wanted to play with our girls looked at me in a way I took to mean, “Do something about this!” G was off in his head about something and once again NOT DOING THINGS AS I WOULD DO THEM. (I.e. doing them wrong.) The only other thing that happened was the lifeguard asked M to keep the snorkel out of the pool. When another dad heard that he remarked incredulously to me but loudly enough that the lifeguard would also hear, “Really?? You can’t have a snorkel in here? Why not?!?” Instead of responding I smiled and swam away. What could I say? (Also, the only reason M had a snorkel was because G had brought it and we’d already been told no masks were allowed in the pool so it wasn’t really much of a surprise to me.)

That night it got harder and harder for me to not talk. I felt isolated, powerless and frustrated with how things were being done. (Sorry G!) Also, at the girls’ bedtime I realized I couldn’t read “Island of the Blue Dolphins” to them. I had gotten really into the book reading it to them now as an adult. I went downstairs to collect G so he could read it to them. G and I watched “Unbroken” after the kids went to bed. This was the most challenging part of the day in some ways as one of my favorite things to do is talk through movies and tv shows!

At 12:00AM I started talking immediately.

Reflections: During the day whenever I felt frustrated/challenged by being with family and strangers without my voice, I couldn’t help thinking about the reality of ALS – even Bulbar onset – being that the slurred speech/loss of speaking would be coupled with other losses. Would I even be able to eat at a restaurant or drink water? That jog I took in the morning, running down the stairs first thing in the morning, making a cup of coffee for myself, brushing my girls’ hair, hugging them goodbye.

It was a big challenge not using my voice but I had all my other abilities AND i knew I really did have my voice to use if I wanted to. I missed the deep sadness that would’ve been coupled with a true loss of my voice – knowing my kids wouldn’t remember what I sounded like unless I recorded it before it was gone. Some people don’t have time to record their voices since it’s the first symptom of ALS for them.

Thank you, Sarah for coming up with this fundraiser. It gave me just a fraction of understanding and empathy for what ALS patients and their families are going through. That is why I am writing this blog – to pass along what I observed to other currently healthy people who could be advocates for pALS (people with ALS).

We are still accepting donations for this fundraiser! $10 is a great amount and deeply appreciated if you can. Thank you to Andrew & Allison Cox, Libby Raccio, George Fitz, Lyn Bradford, Dina Vineberg, Lindsay Dietrich, Veronique Marachet, Mandy Sorenson, Kathleen O’Clock, Janice Reid, Lucia Quinn, Caroline Murphy and Jess Clapp Hennessey for your generous donations and support! Thank you also to an anonymous donor – it means so much!

MY FUNDRAISING LINK

**While typing this I asked G why he seemed to stop talking to me. He said, “I’d probably always be silent if you quit talking so much.”**

Interesting links:

Types of ALS

Every 90 Minutes : foundation started by pALS Jay Smith who is was diagnosed with Bulbar onset ALS in spring 2014.

Anthony Carbajal’s Facebook page : this young guy was diagnosed in 2014 and actually has fALS (familial ALS which is inherited through a genetic mutation). He was on the Ellen Degeneres show and had a well-known Ice Bucket video last fall.

Rob Becker’s #WhatWouldYouGive? blog : he will use a wheelchair for an entire day as part of the fundraiser and documents his prep/experiences here. He is a friend of Sarah Coglianese’s.

 

What would you give to relieve someone’s suffering?

Last fall when I heard about the Ice Bucket Challenge I claimed to have felt bullied into donating since I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself on Facebook. (OK, I was too lazy.) So while I was one of the two(?) grumbling Ice Bucket Scrooges we donated money without really knowing why or the specifics of the cause. Later that fall a New York Times article popped up on my Facebook feed. It was written by a young mom and writer who had ALS. Without the Ice Bucket Challenge putting ALS on my radar I would’ve skimmed right over it.

Sarah is smart, funny, quick to laugh at her own expense, stylish and pretty. She and I have daughters close to 5 (well, hers is 5 and mine will be soon.) Her experience of motherhood combined with her progressively terminal disease made me curious. I started reading her blog. Slowly I started understanding what the excitement was over the Ice Bucket Challenge – how huge attention and funds were finally being directed at one of the most devastating terminal illnesses around.

In a nutshell:

1. ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis: a- means “no”, myo refers to “muscle”, and trophy means “nourishment.” The sclerosis part refers to the hardening or scarring. ALS occurs when the neurons connecting muscles to the brain degenerate. When the neurons die, the muscles don’t receive messages from the brain thereby atrophying. The muscles controlling motor movement are the ones affected. The ones that control walking, cooking, chewing, holding a cup of coffee, picking up a child, bathing, brushing one’s hair. ALS slowly paralyzes a person until they can no longer breath independently. It is a real life horror story.

2. There is no known cause and no cure. The only treatment is a drug which can extend survival by about 10% if taken early enough. It can cost hundreds of dollars a month WITH insurance and can give some people miserable side effects.

3. Most people with ALS die within 2-5 years of first symptoms.

4. ALS is sometimes called “The Bankruptcy Disease” due to the incredible costs involved in caring for a pALS (person with ALS). Not only does the equipment needed cost a lot (walker, support braces for ankles, power wheelchair, Hoyer lift, bed rails, bidet, home renovations to allow the wheelchair to pass through doorways etc.) but caregivers are not always covered by insurance. If the pALS has to stop working that income is lost too. It can cost around $200,000./year to care for someone with ALS.

5. ALS is not incurable. It’s underfunded. Because it is a rare disease it is grouped with other orphan diseases that generate little to no interest with pharmaceutical companies. Few patients = no profit.

6. pALS can’t advocate for themselves for long due to the loss of motor function. Their families can’t either due to taking care of their pALS. Imagine caring for someone who can’t scratch their own itch and needs help changing positions in bed, eating, getting bathed & dressed, putting makeup on etc. If there are children, add that to the regular chaos of caring for them. Some do all this while working full time. pALS need currently healthy people who are unaffected to advocate on their behalf (behalfs?) That’s where I come in.

7. ALS usually strikes people after age 50 but in Sarah’s case she was diagnosed at 33 with her symptoms starting earlier. Her daughter wasn’t even 2 years old. It can affect any of us.

In June Sarah started her #whatwouldyougive? campaign to see what people would give up to end ALS. Participants started giving up their voices, use of a hand or arm, one of her friends will use a wheelchair to take the BART to work. He’s started his own blog about it- the planning and challenges involved. All proceeds of her fundraiser go to ALS Therapy Development Institute, a non-profit biotech company devoted only to finding treatments for ALS.

As my part of the #whatwouldyougive fundraiser, yesterday I gave up the use of my voice for the day. Many friends, family members and even some people I don’t see much donated money to the fundraiser. Thank you!! We have gathered over $800 and still have another week left.

Stay tuned for my post on how yesterday went. Though it wasn’t a fraction of what an ALS patient goes through, it was eye-opening.

Sarah Coglianese’s #Whatwouldyougive? Fundraiser

 

Playing Hooky – Underwood Farms

M only missed one day of school so I told her she could play hooky towards the end of the year. We wanted to pick strawberries at Underwood Farms in Moorpark but couldn’t face the weekend crowds.

If you haven’t been, it’s about an hour from Los Angeles.

Maddie put on Aunt Charlotte's jean jacket to wear to the farm

Patsy embroidered it!

It started out foggy and cool. Going on a weekday is key. Going early is best. The parking lot is almost empty.

When you arrive, you pay the entrance fee and can buy a bunch of tickets. This is the time to get a few tokens for the cars as well as some carrots for the animals.

We had the place mostly to ourselves at first.

No line for the pony ride.

I don't feel good about this but am too lazy/wishy-washy to say no.

M remarked that the ponies looked pretty bored.

Empty bouncy house = best bouncy house

Robot chickens

Mama & baby pig

Sleepy piglets

We also picked LOTS of strawberries but my hands were too full to snap any pix. They are very inexpensive when you pick them yourselves.

After a full day we grabbed a bite at In-N-Out and headed home around 4PM.

Lunch at In-N-Out finished a fun day

This is a fun day. You don’t need a stroller because they have wagons to haul your kids/bags/water bottles & produce around.

TAKE:
- water
- hats
- sunscreen
- sneakers/socks (flip flops will get kind of grody)
- snacks (they have a food bar but it’s not always open)

There are two farms: Somis and Moorpark. Moorpark is the one with all the extras (besides produce picking): bouncy house, animals, petting zoo, pony rides, and in the fall, a corn maze. They also have a produce market on the way out. Somis I believe is much smaller and is primarily for picking produce.

Moorpark Farm Center
3370 Sunset Valley Road
Moorpark, CA

9am-6pm (during daylight savings)
9am-5pm (during standard time)

Open March-Thanksgiving and weekends through Christmas
Closed Thanksgiving Day.

Admission:
$3.00/person M-F
$6.00/person weekends and major holidays
Children under 2 are free.
MAP

 

Leaving Oz

After 20 years in the Castro, my dad decided to leave for a flatter, easier life. St. Allison met me in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago to help get the show on the road. I guess she and my brother knew if I went alone many hours would be spent looking through old pictures and packing broken frames, plastic tape rolls with 1/4 cm of tape left on them and a lonely thumbtack.

The first morning there we did a lot of stuff like this:
I love that shade of pink. That was his dining room and I never got tired of looking up out the window seeing the pink interior wall against the white exterior wall and deep blue sky.

We also gave away all kinds of things on Craig’s List. I totally recommend that versus the dump as it involves nothing more than hauling junk to the curb and then posting pix with descriptions to the free section of Craig’s List. Saves things from the landfill too.

That said, I think we could’ve sold this rug my dad bought a million years ago in Portugal:

I got so many emails about this rug. But we didn’t dare tarry. Alli and I just couldn’t stop ourselves from hurling things down the staircases and out the door!

By Friday afternoon we were in pretty good shape so Allie and I took a walk down Castro.

I hadn’t been there in a while. These were new:

As usual I got sentimental and felt something wet well up in the corners of my eyes thinking I still haven’t had a drink at the Twin Peaks bar (aka The Glass Coffin) and things of that nature.

When I later lamented to my sister in law about never having seen a movie at the Castro Theater my dad quickly reminded me that we had. I already forget what we saw despite this conversation occurring last week.

The Castro is a beautiful, magical neighborhood! I was in my mid 20′s when my dad moved there and every visit was exciting not only due to being in a city but also because of the soft light, view of the bay bridge from his living room, hills and coffee. Yes, the coffee was GOOD. The coffee was STRONG. I was drinking double lattes with every meal because I lived in Naples, FL where the coffee and cuisine was nothing to write about particularly if you have trouble getting over the “e” at the end of “Grill” in 50% of the restaurant’s names. Olde Naples Grille and Buena Vista Grille. There is nothing quaint about a peach colored strip mall on the side of US 41, no matter how many “e’s” you tag on the end of a name.

That night my dad took us to Alice’s for dinner. No matter what you order at Alice’s, it comes smothered in the same brown sauce.

Shortly after reading this fortune I got a job casting (non-violent) criminals for a documentary series. These things never lie.

The next day Ali and I felt we were in good shape so we took a long walk down Mission Street to the Embarcadero. We explored many precious shops inside.

That night my dad had reservations at Zuni Cafe. I hadn’t been here in over 15 years because of 2223 (now closed.)

I couldn’t help but feel sentimental and a bit sad walking there that night.

Something magical about the lighting and the hills, the people etc.

We had a wonderful dinner at Zuni! We ordered:

  • chicken for two roasted in the brick oven; warm bread salad with scallions, garlic, dried currants, and pine nuts
  • wild arugula salad
  • frisee salad
  • oysters

Waiting for our chicken at Zuni Cafe

Chicken must be ordered 1 hour ahead.

Chicken almost here!

Dad post gins/pre rose at Zuni

In packing we found this coaster Andrew made as a child.

Andrew ended up leaning towards the sciences and away from the arts

On Sunday we were doing so well we decided to take a drive down the coast, one last time.

Mini Road trip CA coast

Ali

Of course we had to eat first!

Finally we had to admit we were done and leave.

View of Castro from the apartment

View from Dad's apartment. It used to be possible to see the Bay Bridge until all the development.

One last look.

Good bye, Castro! Thank you for the memories.

 

Bob Baker Marionettes

A month or so ago we met Lyn in Chinatown (Los Angeles that is) for some dim sum.

Afterwards we descended the steep staircase

to head over to The Bob Baker Marionette Theater to see “The Nutcracker.”

There goes Lyn in the industrial elevator.

We met at the Theater. Founded in 1963 it’s the oldest children’ theater in LA and several years ago was designated a Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument (Wikipedia). G had taken the girls a year or two ago and last November, after Bob died at age 90, suggested we go in case it shut down for some reason.

There are some chairs lining the outside of the seating area but most of the kids sit on the ground as close to the “stage” as they can.

Here comes the Sugar Plum Fairy!

Lyn got each girl a marionette after the show. Thank you, Lyn!

It was fun to see the old pix of the theater’s film work.

We had yet another fun day with Lyn!

I highly recommend this experience. You can buy tickets online from their website. They are so totally helpful and friendly – when G wasn’t able to show up they offered to refund his ticket money! We didn’t even ask (or take them up on it.)

Bob Baker Marionette Theater
1345 W 1st Street
LA, CA 90026

(213)250-9995
http://www.bobbakermarionettes.com/



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