The facts of my family are hard to figure out. I don’t know what really happened, how it happened or why it happened. All I can do is piece together all the different angles of the story and come up with the most reasonable outcome. From what I know, my parents separated when I was about 1 and divorced a few years later. I grew up with my mother and two older brothers; matt and mike. They were all I knew. Every so often a man I was told to call ‘dad’ would show up. He was fun but I felt encouraged to call him names, not really sure why I felt that way.
Once mike went to kindergarten, I was alone. I didn’t have another spy or playmate; it was mostly just me finding different adventures to occupy my time until my brothers got home. I remember taking all the change out of the goose money holder and walking down to the local ice cream stand for my favorite twist with rainbow sprinkles. I remember throwing bean bags on the roof then going on the roof through my brothers’ window to toss them back down. I would ride my hot wheels bike down to the guys working on Mrs. ‘Cranky’s’ backyard. I would walk through the ally looking for treasures. Lynn, the mother figure, was there somewhere; either on the phone, sleeping or watching soap operas. I remember going places with her; the stores and workout groups but it was just a blur. I couldn’t really complain, I mean I could do pretty much whatever I wanted to. Life seemed good.
I was super excited to finally go to kindergarten, that meant my brothers and I were all in the same building, how cool was that. We would all walk to school together and I would do my best to keep up with them and pretend I wasn’t tired. I remember feeling so tired by the time I walked the two small blocks that I couldn’t make it up all the stairs to the school. I would beg matt to carry me up and like a big brother, he told me no. Mike would always make a race out it and for awhile I could try but as days went on it would take more and more effort to just walk. I remember my class going to the library on the 3rd floor, I watched as they reached the top and I just finished the first flight. A friend stayed back to encourage me and by the time I reached the library it was time to go. It was around October or November of 1990 and i was 6 years old. By Christmas of that year, I felt so weak all the time. Lynn would take me to the doctors many times that fall but nothing was ever done. Finally in late January 1991, Lynn made the doctor check my blood; a few days later we got the phone call to report to Children’s Hospital right away.
I hated the IV’s in my hand the most; that was until they took the ‘largest needle in the world’ to my lower back. From that day on, I told myself I would rather have needles all over my hand and arm then to have that ‘big one’ again. I remember being told we had to go to another hospital because Children’s couldn’t help me. A few weeks later my mother and I went to the Cleveland Clinic, where they treated me like a queen. The details of this all blur together but there are specific things I remember. Valentine’s Day I was in surgery to have these weird tubes put in my chest so that they didn’t have to prick my arm for blood anymore, they could just take it out of the special tubes. As happy as I was about not being pricked again, once I woke from the surgery, this giant heart came to my room with a doll; I yelled ‘get out’ because I didn’t feel good. I remember lots of doctors and nurses coming into my room with this special medicine. They told me this one had to be put in though an IV in my hand. I remember the burning feeling go up my arm; that was the first time I cried. I was screaming for them to stop but they said they had to do this for me to ‘not be tired’ anymore. So I laid in bed crying and the next few days I slept a lot. When I woke up I found lots of hair on my pillow and asked the nurse why it was there. She told me that I would be bald now. I thought it was an awesome idea, so I started pulling chunks out while Lynn cried in the bathroom. I tried comforting her by saying now you don’t have to worry about fixing it all the time! I was there close to two months before I was allowed to return home. My brother matt’s blood (which got taken out by ‘the world’s largest needle’) fixed me. He was my hero.
I was so happy to finally be home, no more doctors, no more needles and no more nasty meds. I was told to wear this face mask for awhile but I hated it, so when no one was looking id take it off. I had about 5 different meds to take daily; I eventually mastered throwing the pills in the back yard, under the carpet or china closet. The liquids I would put in my mouth and spit out later or on a busy day just dump down the sink and say I took it. I went from a normal size of 6x to a girls 10/12 in a matter of 2 months. When I ate, I would bite the sides of my mouth because my face was so puffy from meds.
These people would come to our house to take pictures and ask lots of questions. Later the picture would be on the front page of the paper. I was even asked ‘what is your biggest wish’ and a few months later I got to meet Michael W. Smith and his family in Nashville. Every so often I would have to return to the Cleveland Clinic for some kind of IV treatment but since I was doing so well, treatments became less and less often until I didn’t have to go anymore! My kindergarten teacher came to my house in the summer to help me get ready for first grade since I missed most of kindergarten. I was so happy when she said I would be able to start in first grade with my friends! Life seemed good.
2nd, 3rd and 4th grade (age8-10) seems to fly by with little problems. There were some events that happened but I’m not sure this is the time or place to discuss them now. 5th grade (age 11) is what really changed my life.
Not sure how it got to this point, I guess I was still more concerned with being a kid then noticing the house work not being done. That would all change one Saturday morning when mike was yelling about there not being anymore towels to dry off with, clean underwear or bowls to eat cereal in. I remember telling him to go wash some stuff but he responded, ‘you’re the girl, you do it’. I can’t fault him for that; he didn’t have a male figure to teach him otherwise. So I accepted the challenge, I wanted to. I went to the basement and was blown away by the endless mounds of clothing all over the floor. Where do I being, how does this machine work, hot or cold, what does permit press mean and how much soap do I need? I grabbed some towels, put a couple of scoops of laundry soap in and turned it to ‘regular wash’. I stood there the entire 40 minutes, watching it wash, rinse and spin. I felt like I accomplished some huge task and quickly decided to finish washing everything. I called a friends mom to ask her all the above questions; she told me to start by making piles and she stayed on the phone with me as I asked her which pile a certain piece would go in. I was very confident by the end of our talk, I had planned out every load and how it would be washed. I stuck in my next load of white underwear and socks with some bleach, closed the lid and went to the kitchen to start on the over grown pile of dishes. I’m not sure why but I became obsessed with this cleaning thing. I would time myself on how quickly but detailed I could clean the bathroom or vacuum the entire house. I stopped riding bikes with my friends so I could dust the living room and dining room. I entered a world where it was just me; I felt worthy and safe.
I don’t remember why Lynn didn’t do those things, but it didn’t matter I had taken over. By then end of 5th grade, Lynn got ‘sick’, which left me doing more. I would take the paper food stamps, coupons I cut out and go to the local store for our weekly food. I would make many trips in a day; a gallon of milk and a bag of juices was always the first trip. The first time I made tacos; I forgot to add water to the meat and I remember mike complaining about it being too dry. The first time I attempted spaghetti; I boiled sauce everywhere, burnt the garlic bread and cooked the noodles too long. I would ask my friends’ mothers to tell me how to make a certain things or how to clean rust of something; there was no stopping me and no signs anyone would. Lynn would ask me to stay home from school to be with her while she lay on the coach sick. I didn’t mind doing it the first few times cause it gave me more time to clean and organize the house. However, when I was told by my teacher, ‘if I didn’t get caught up on my work I might not make it to 6th grade’, I started to not like staying home with her.
Matt was in 9th grade through all of this; he was busy with football and girlfriends. He stayed in his attic room a lot when he was home. Mike was in 7th grade; busy with cross country and running around with his friends, he wasn’t home a lot. So it was me there a lot of the time; cleaning and taking care of my mother; I didn’t mind doing any of that, I liked to help. Unfortunately, I realized too late the jobs couldn’t be passed off; I was stuck washing their clothes/dishes, cleaning their messes and getting them food. Matt usually took out the garbage and recycling while Mike would trim the ivy and cut the grass. The rest was usually me; I would ask for help but usually got turned down, so I stopped asking and started burying myself deeper into my imaginary world. We all played our roles for 4 years until, Matt left for college. Life did not seem good.
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