How unique am I? Let me count the ways... ha! Just kidding!
I was tagged by Flo to list six unique things about myself. Hmmmmm.
In return I must tag six others. So I'm taking the cheesy way out and making it a WIN-WIN:
Comment here and tag yourself, and you get either a free pair of ponytail holders OR free first class shipping on your order of any size! Shop at dizzlePOP!
1. I'm half-German and speak German fluently. Spent several years living in Germany growing up, and England, too. Yep, daddy was in the Air Force. Mommy was very happy to get assigned near her family!
2. I have attention deficit disorder, and was diagnosed as an adult. That diagnosis sure explained a LOT about me, to me!
3. I'm a convert to the Roman Catholic Church. That occurred at Easter, 1996.
4. I was a slalom ski racer in high school. Where? Utah, home of the greatest snow on earth!
5. Ten years ago I founded what is now the international symbol for childhood cancer awareness, the gold ribbon (metallic gold, that is). I recently sold my corporation, Gold Ribbons for Childhood Cancer, to a long-time friend who is also a bereaved (childhood cancer) parent.
Here's a picture of a gold ribbon pin, and an "angel" gold ribbon pin to represent the kids that died:
6. My eldest child, Kelsey Nicole, died of cancer at age seven. This picture was taken in May 1996. Kelsey was diagnosed on July 2, 1996 and died in my arms 26 days later on July 28, 1996. Although she did have a life-threatening disease (acute lymphocytic leukemia, aka childhood leukemia, but with a few extra bits of badness in there, too), it was the effect of chemotherapy that killed her. She had no immune system and her own blood bacteria took over and put her into septic shock (that's a systemic -- full body -- blood infection). Then she lost oxygen to the brain between 4 p.m. when she collapsed and the "code blue" team arrived (she was inpatient at the time with a fever). We found out a few hours later that she was permanently paralyzed from the chest down. By midnight she was on full life-support. We waited for my mom (her Oma) to arrive and say goodbye. Then I asked to hold her, we had all the tubes and meds removed, and I rocked her sweet, precious soul on its way to another set of loving arms. When she died, her soul literally traveled through me; I could feel it. It was absolutely amazing.
We miss her desperately, and love her dearly, every day.
OK, that last one was likely more than you bargained for. All I (and every single other bereaved parent that ever lived) want is for our child to be remembered. Thank you for reading about my Kelsey.