RIP Kelty

Kelty (May 2004-July 2013)

I really like my Kelty kid carrier. My fellow teachers gave it to me as a baby shower gift before Justin was born. It was perfect for hikes with him, and did a whole lot of overtime on our yearlong road trip. We’ve even used it with Zaner, even though it wasn’t ideal for him.

Several years back, we went to one of my most favorite hiking places: Lizard Head Pass near Telluride. I was really looking forward to the whole adventure: the meadows, being in the trees, the fresh mountain air. We had taken Justin there when he was a toddler. I envisioned the same outcome with Zane. We had situated him in the Kelty, and Justin hiked on his own. There were already complaints from Zane during the loading process. Then, ten minutes into the hike, Zaner cried. And cried some more. Wailed is probably a better word. He definitely interrupted the Zen on the trail; the peace within myself. And he didn’t stop. I loaded him on my back and headed back to the trailhead while Jeff and Justin continued onward. Zane was too upright. Too uncomfortable. He immediately quieted down when he was back in the car (the boy CAN communicate). But despite those setbacks with the Kelty, we often made it work.

Now, however, Zane is too tall for the thing. His ankles get caught in the metal bars at the bottom (see picture above). He is also reaching the maximum weight allowance for it. So what to do about hiking? Give it up? Go without him? And, if so, who will watch him? And what about rock climbing? Heading out to the crag? I’d really like for him to go.

I’ve researched other carriers. I even tried one out that a friend loaned to me. It was an ErgoBaby. It didn’t work.

There has to be something out there. Right? There has to be a way to tote a non-ambulatory child on a hike. Right? If ANYONE has suggestions, I would LOVE to hear them. I don’t want to give up hiking. Or rock climbing. I want to include Zane in any adventure he wants to be a part of. But the Kelty has done its time with us. In fact, it’s going to be sold during the next garage sale. And yes…there will be tears from sentimental me.

If you have ideas or suggestions, feel free to contact me via email, comments below, or through FB. I seriously need some help with this one. Thanks!

Zeizures

I had planned to post video of Zane, but things have been pretty erratic with what Justin and I have dubbed Zeizures (Zane seizures).

After almost-weekly changes to his medications, things have not improved. At times, the Zeizures seem less extreme; at others more dramatic. Justin and I witnessed one of Zane’s worst seizures to date a couple of nights ago.

I talked to one of my friends who has epilepsy, describing to her what I had observed with Zane: upset, rapid breathing, and (at times) terror on his sweet face. She thinks that Zane most likely feels the seizures coming on now and knows what’s going to happen, which causes panic to set in for him.

I called and left a message for neurology yesterday, but they didn’t call back (which is not typical of them). I hesitate to call again because they want to add a second medication to his regimen, and I am still so in the dark about seizures and the human brain. Will I lose my Zaner to medication side effects? Will he want to sleep all the time? Or will he be completely wakeful (like he was all of last night)? I don’t know what to expect, which makes me feel out of control. And I like control J

I am going to gauge Zane’s seizure activity today before calling again. It is probably me simply procrastinating, but you never know. Maybe the Zeizures will improve.

The Art of Losing

It’s been a very difficult year (couple of years, really). It feels like a losing year. Loss of friends, loss of trust, loss of place, loss of hope. I simply feel like hunkering down and escaping from certain parts of the world for a while.

Zane has had it rough, too. His seizures seem worse. They definitely affect him to the point that he is unable to enjoy and participate in life fully. He wants to sleep because he has to; I want to sleep because sometimes it is the preferable place to be in times of stress and utter disappointment.

I apologize for the negativity, but it would be dishonest to paint my (our) situation in a sparkling light right now. It’s not…sparkling, that is. So I leave you with this poem by Elizabeth Bishop—one I’ve always appreciated.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. 

Elizabeth Bishop