ALAINA, A WONDERFUL BIRD TRAINER

Posted on 2007-Mar-8 at 02:10

I DON'T NEED TO LOSE MY HEART IN SAN FRANCISCO

Posted on 2006-Apr-5 at 12:50

TO BEE OR NOT TO BEE

Posted on 2006-Mar-28 at 08:13

Photo of Susan holding her newly made beeswax candles.

Photo: copyright 2006 Alaina Friesen

I learned a new craft—beeswax candlemaking. A fellow homeschooling mom invited other moms and kids over to her country home to learn this skill. “Nan” lives on a 5-acre spread, and raises bees and chickens, grows vegetables and herbs.  She crumbled a sheet of expensive beeswax into a container on a hot stove, liquefied it, then set the hot wax on an outdoors table. Kids and adults grabbed a wick and learned how to dip, roll wax, keep on dipping until a proper taper candle was made.

Some people used pieces of colored wax to press designs onto the hot candle. I took the time while the candles dried to walk to the bees-hives and chicken coops. I was raised in the suburbs—not exposed much to ranch life. My youngest daughter was a bit panicky when a bee followed me back to the candle-dipping area.  I wasnÂ’t afraid of it, knowing it was just checking me out.

MY GOOD SAMARITANS

Posted on 2006-Mar-26 at 07:49

Have you ever had a Good Samaritan in your life?

YouÂ’ve heard the story, IÂ’m sure:

 A traveler is mugged by thieves and left for half-dead. In need of mercy and medical help, the man lies wounded on the side of the road. Prominent people ignore him--a priest and a Levite (teacher in the temple). These people youÂ’d assume would be compassionate.

Ironically, a stranger from Samaria, one deemed an enemy, displays compassion—wrapping the poor traveler in bandages and setting him on his own donkey to the nearest inn, caring for the man, and giving money to the innkeeper to care for him until he recuperates. This Good Samaritan gave from his heart, expecting no payment in return.

I want to share about some Good Samaritans in my life. I’m not going to name any of them, as they don’t want the publicity. They are the real givers in this life—not wanting fanfare and applause for their good deeds, but only wanting a pat on the back from God. I consider them true heroes.

About five years ago, our oldest daughter, 6, fell mysteriously ill, her heart dangerously ballooning inside her chest. In the pediatric ICU, intravenous medications kept her alive. She was released from the hospital on heavy-duty meds, to await a heart transplant.

A lady IÂ’d never met loaned her travel trailer to us. My husband drove her truck and trailer to a campground about an hourÂ’s drive from UCLA Medical Center. She is one of many Good Samaritans who offered assistance during a difficult time in our lives.

We were thankful to live in the travel trailer, as hotel costs were prohibitive near UCLA. Surrounding communities are some of the priciest in the nation: Beverly Hills, Westwood, and Bel Air. No way could we afford to stay for long at even the cheapest “digs” there. So, it was an answer to prayer that the lady loaned her trailer.

On the other hand, it wasn’t the optimal situation for our daughter—on blood-thinning medication. The trailer was cold—even with the heat on. The trailer steps were often slippery and the gravel was sharp. I constantly feared she’d fall and bleed, as she was clumsy and possessed little strength. I’ll never forget how her sisters played on the swings and jungle gym, but she just wanted to sit cross-legged on the grass, clutching her sweater tight to her chest.

God does answer prayers. One night I cried out to God how I needed a better place for our daughter and all of us, that I did appreciate the trailer, but we needed safer and more comfortable surroundings.

An old friend from college days read about our plight in an email. She’s another Good Samaritan. She said, “Don’t you remember that politics is the way to get anything done?” We’d been active in a political organization at the university. Before I knew it, this friend contacted newspaper reporters, California government officials, and service organizations. The next morning after praying a heartfelt prayer to God for help, my prayers were answered in a strange way. I heard a knock on the trailer door. Not even out of my pajamas, my hair askew, I opened the door. A newspaper reporter from a large L.A. daily asked if he could interview us. Quickly, I brushed my hair and woke the children. Two daughters went outdoors to ride their tricycles. Our oldest daughter stood in the street while a photographer took a shot of her and her sisters on the trikes. The photo and a story of our plight made the front page the next day.

Other Good Samaritans came into our lives. A head administrator at UCLA read the news about our girls online. He was touched by the story and thought his father might want to ask us to live with him. His father was lonely, living alone in a pricey three-story home about five miles from the campground. His Dad underwent four heart bypass surgeries in his life. The administratorÂ’s niece, then college age, had mysteriously died from a heart disease. This very important man, a vice-provost, had no children of his own, but he loves children. After discussing our situation with his father, then 81, he said yes, heÂ’d wanted us to live with him.

My husband received a call at work. Would we want to live with his father? I was incredulous—how quickly my prayers were answered. Grandpa John wanted us there now!

Another front-page story in an L.A. newspaper shows our girls walking up the spiral staircase to the top floor.

We lived with “Grandpa John” (he “adopted” us and vice-versa), on and off, for five years, while not one, but two of our daughters had heart transplants and needed a place to recover. The vice-provost lived there once or twice a week, to check-up on his father, do some work for the Academy Awards and UCLA.

Grandpa John and his father were two of the most compassionate people IÂ’ve ever met. They not only opened their homes, but their hearts, to complete strangers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luke 10:27 He answered: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind' [ Deut. 6:5] ; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' [ Lev. 19:18] "

I SHOULD ESCAPE TO MAUI RATHER THAN SPRING CLEAN!

Posted on 2006-Mar-25 at 01:12

This is a picture of me at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. I love Hawaii and when I daydream about getting away from it all, I think of snorkeling the coral reefs of balmy Hawaii....

But now, back to reality:

SPRING CLEANING has begun at our house on the beautiful central coast of California. How about you all? (Well, I guess if some are reading this on the other side of the globe, like in Australia, it is Fall for yÂ’all. Sometimes I forget that the Internet is worldwide!!).

It looks like itÂ’ll rain again this afternoon, so this morning before the rain wets and makes soggy the ground again, weÂ’ll weed-whack, trim trees, take the load of branches and detritus to the dump, and till the soil in one place so the girls and I can start our veggie garden and sunflower garden.

WeÂ’ve thought about trying to round-up our lop-eared bunny and return her to her cage. But when we get near her, she runs underneath the girlsÂ’ playhouse, burrowing under there. ItÂ’s been hard to retrieve her. SheÂ’s happier outside, then caged, hasnÂ’t left our property to run around the suburbs. I find that interesting that a domestic rabbit is smart enough to stay in its own yard, that it doesnÂ’t find the grass greener elsewhere. So, we may let her stay outdoors in the yard, rather than return her to her cage.

I need to do some SPRING CLEANING in our home. I am a bibliophile—love books and printed matter. Too many papers stack near this trusty computer. ItÂ’s time to organize them into binders, chuck the old newspaper clippings (or pass them on to my many pen pals), and put the books back on the shelf. 

The girls and I will go through our closets and give-away old clothes. WeÂ’re saving some childrenÂ’s clothing for an orphanage in Nepal. A police captain and a few others at our church travel to Nepal once a year to distribute the clothes to the kids. ItÂ’s their only clothing distribution that year, except for what little they can afford from their miniscule budget.  ItÂ’s such a humbling experience to know that our castoffs are so valued by others who have so little. We donate other clothes to a local thrift store in town that benefits developmentally disabled people in our area.

Well, time to get a move-on and spring clean.

What do you need to give-away?

IN THE SPRING, AT THE END OF THE DAY, YOU SHOULD SMELL LIKE DIRT

Posted on 2006-Mar-24 at 04:08

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.—Margaret Atwood

As many of you know, I homeschool three elementary-age daughters, two with heart transplants. We love Spring. In our part of California—almost exactly in-between San Francisco and Los Angeles—some awesome natural events occur this time of year--

The elephant seals give births to young on beaches near Big Sur, CA

http://www.pelicannetwork.net/sansimeon.html

The monarch butterfly, natureÂ’s miraculous migratory insect (flying more miles than any other insect), seeks a safe haven in the eucalyptus grove at Pismo Beach State Park.

http://www.monarchbutterfly.org/

The Western Snowy Plover, an extremely endangered shorebird, nests in the sand dunes at one of the last remaining natural sand dunes systems on the Pacific coast, the Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes.

http://www.guaddunes.com/wildlife.html

Cedar waxwings migrate through our area each year. Hundreds of them flock in our backyard to feast on our pyracanthaÂ’s berries.

http://www.birds.cornell.edu/BOW/CEDWAX/

AnnaÂ’s hummingbirds start coming to our hummingbird feeder.

http://www.birds.cornell.edu/BOW/ANNHUM/

This bird is fascinating to see in the trees, preening and caring for it’s young—Great Blue Heron http://www.slostateparks.com/nature/birds/great_blue_heron.asp#

“Snowbirds” from the northernmost outposts (Canada and other northerly places) start driving their massive RV’s back to their home territory.

http://www.snowbirds.org/canadaclubs/index.html

We’re looking forward to taking some field trips to do some beach-schooling this spring. I’d like the girls to keep a Nature notebook—draw and describe the flora and fauna they see on our adventure treks. We will take many nature photos, too.

We hope to travel to San Francisco in early June to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. We’re excited to meet a heart transplant survivor from England and his fiancée and walk across the bridge together.

THE TELLTALE HEARTS

Posted on 2006-Mar-19 at 09:53

March 19, 2006  COPYRIGHT SUSAN L. FRIESEN 2006

KLEENEX ALERTÂ…Â…Â…Â…Â…Â….

A blogger wanted to know more about our children, especially the two daughters with heart transplants. I thought IÂ’d take time now to introduce you to them. First, let me share some background info.

I’m a mom of 5 children—two adult sons (our oldest son, a proud U.S. Marine; our second son, a musician, also a college student majoring in international business and Japanese) and three elementary-age daughters.

Although I can wax prolific about our sons and middle daughter, I am frequently asked about our two girls, Shivan and Lindsea, and how theyÂ’re faring, so IÂ’ll spend time in this blog to mostly comment about ShivanÂ’s situation, as itÂ’s a lengthy explanation. In a future blog, IÂ’ll share at-length about Lindsea. Also, I want to share separate blogs about our other children, too. If you have any questions about heart transplantation, feel free to send me an instant message or reply to this blog.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Strangely, on the first Friday of October, three years apart in 2000 and 2003, Shivan, now 11, and Lindsea, now 9, fell mysteriously ill to some unnamed virus. Doctors donÂ’t know what virus struck them, causing their hearts to balloon and fill their chest cavities. By the time they were diagnosed, the virus had evacuated their bodies, but left a telltale trace of its existence in the heart muscle itself.

Their condition is called idiopathic (cause unknown) dilated cardiomyopathy. Other than Shivan—born with a heart murmur, which closed after two years, the girls weren’t born with any discernible heart problem. They were both six years old when their hearts failed.

Before this catastrophe struck, the girls were typical children, running around, playing, and enjoying life.

Doctors can’t say how they fell ill—whether to environmental or genetic reasons, a combination of the two, or some other reason. It appears obvious that two of our five children were genetically predisposed toward getting the illness. This is just one rationale. We’re not given a definitive answer, so don’t know if this condition will affect the other children, or not; or will be passed on to another generation. It is very frustrating, even nightmarish, to be ignorant, and not know the answers to our basic questions. I pray that all the hard-working medical researchers will finally discover the secrets to diseases like cardiomyopathy, cancer, and diabetes. Obviously, my prayer is a selfish one, as I’d love to see my children grow up and live long, productive lives.

Shivan fell ill in 2000 during an outing to the southern Sequoia National Forest. IÂ’d taken the girls to a former loggerÂ’s camp, now a resort called R-Ranch in the Sequoias. WeÂ’d planned on staying in the cabin for five days, but Shivan complained of flu-like symptoms (malaise, weakness, tiredness), so I wanted her checked-out by our Air Force pediatrician back home. I drove more than 200 miles to get to the base hospital. A radiologist, seeing the oversized heart on an x-ray, alerted our doctor to ShivanÂ’s plight. She didnÂ’t have walking pneumonia, as originally diagnosed. A cardiologist in Santa Barbara, California performed an echocardiogram and told me her heart functioned at only seven percent of normal. She was rushed to the ICU, and airlifted to UCLA Medical Center, to await a heart transplant.

Given many drugs to stabilize her between 20-25% ejection fraction, Shivan was allowed to wait outside the hospital until the call for a heart came in. Fortunately, the wait wasnÂ’t two years as we were told was possible, but took about four months. While awaiting the life-saving organ, she collapsed on a slide in the McDonaldÂ’s Playland. She experienced a sudden death episode (sudden cardiac death).

Alaina, our middle daughter, then age 5, saved Shivan’s life, when she pushed her down the slide after she’d collapsed at the top. My husband, Ken, waited in the Playland, while I stood in line to get Happy Meals and other food. Ken noticed Shivan, face down, her body limp. He turned her over and saw her face—gray-blue. Ken’s words:

I thought sheÂ’d died. I took her pulse on her neck and felt nothing. SheÂ’d wet her pants, a sign sheÂ’d lost bodily function. I picked her up to hug a final goodbye. I heard one very faint heartbeat!  I saw Susan outside the gate and yelled, ‘Call 9-1-1.” Someone directed me to an empty booth and I placed Shivan on the table, giving breaths and lightly compressing her chest, not giving full compressions because of her enlarged heart and blood clots in the left ventricle. A bystander wanted to give heart compressions, but I told him, “NO.” Paramedics arrived. An EMT held a syringe, ready to inject something into her heart. I quickly explained that she was awaiting a transplant. The head EMT told the other medic to stop the injection. Shivan “came to” and her first words were, “IÂ’m wet!”

She was taken by ambulance to UCLA.

When Ken yelled, “Call 911,” I dropped the tray of food and tried using my cell phone, but it took too long to get the cell to start-up. I figured the battery was dead or dying, so I’d better get to a pay phone pronto. I saw an outdoor phone booth at the Denny’s next to McDonald’s, so ran through the parking lot to call on that phone. It seemed like time dragged until medical help arrived, but actually the team came about 5 minutes after my emergency call.

Both daughters are doing remarkably well after having their heart transplants. Shivan experienced a couple setbacks since her transplant five years ago, but theyÂ’re unrelated to the heart itself. She was hospitalized for an appendicitis attack, requiring an appendectomy. She also needed hospitalization after a bite from a brown recluse spider.

All in all, both girls are doing well with her new hearts, but theyÂ’re immune-suppressed, so arenÂ’t around too many crowds of people on a regular basis. WeÂ’ve decided to homeschool the girls. They enjoy designing computer graphics, doing Internet-based lessons, illustration, reading, photography, swimming, snorkeling and more.

Please remember Shivan and Lindsea and our entire family in your regular prayers. If you can, print-out this blog and share with others that they may pray for the girls, too.

Thanks for reading this and caring!

Susan Friesen

To read longer articles we posted about the girls:

In another web entry from those days and also on the 2Hearts web site.

To see a virtual patchwork quilt dedicated to Shivan or one to Lindsea

My article Lightning Strikes Twice posted to Gaea ShawÂ’s website.

My article chosen as “Story of the Month” for July 1995 in Transplant Speakers, Int’l

MAY YOU ALWAYS HAVE A ROOF FOR THE RAIN....

Posted on 2006-Mar-18 at 01:19

Photo: Irish transplant survivor at the World Transplant Games, London, Ontario, Canada, 2005    

Erin Go Braugh! Ireland Forever! Happy St. PatrickÂ’s Day!

I'm looking over a four leaf clover
That I overlooked before
One leaf is sunshine, the second is rain,
Third is the roses that grow in the lane.
No need explaining the one remaining
Is somebody I adore.
I'm looking over a four leaf clover
That I overlooked before.

I almost got pinched this morning for not wearing green, but then the girls spotted my green “Donate Life” band on my right wrist, so backed-off. They chased their Dad into the bedroom, but he slapped on his “Donate Life” bracelet before they could pinch him, too.

We havenÂ’t made St. PatrickÂ’s Day goodies, yet, but we plan on baking some brownies layered with green frosting and topped with green sprinkles for holiday dessert.

I allowed the girls to bypass heavy-duty academics this afternoon and play games.  Actually, Shivan wanted to help me clean. Alaina and Lindsea played Battleship.  Before that, the girls read fairy tales aloud to one another.

We normally try to take a field trip on Fridays, but heavy rains persuaded us to stay home. It didnÂ’t help that our home renovation project has problems. Water soaked through the unfinished wall outside one daughterÂ’s room, ruining the carpet. I spent a couple hours today putting all the childrenÂ’s books in that room in boxes. The bed will need to be disassembled, the carpet pulled up and thrown out, and the room redone. If itÂ’s not one thing, itÂ’s another.

Earlier this morning, we experienced another leaking mess. A clog in the aquarium pump caused fishy water to overflow the aquarium.

Our new sunroom leaks, too. My hubby took the old rain gutter and reconfigured it to create a makeshift gutter in the room. Now watch it not rain anymore the rest of the year. ThatÂ’s MurphyÂ’s Law for you. We hope to get a new roof on the house before the rainy season hits next year. 

It will probably take two years to fix the house—as the majority of construction will be done owner-builder. Every wall in the house will eventually come down. The house needs re-stuccoing and re-roofing.

When two daughters mysteriously needed heart transplants, three years apart, and we had three household floods, we figured it would be best to totally re-do our house.  Pray for us! ItÂ’s like the movie “The Money Pit”—so much cash to fix-up the place.

My husband quips sometimes that maybe we should look into emigrating to New Zealand. He saw an online ad recently for a beautiful ocean-front home in N.Z. for only $350,000, U.S.-equivalent dollars. When water drips from the ceiling and I feel like must squeegee the walls, I daydream about KenÂ’s quip and think about that oceanfront home--hopefully within sight of the worldÂ’s smallest penguin, the blue or little penguin. IÂ’ve heard about those penguins waddling from the sea in the middle of night and strolling New Zealand suburbs. WouldnÂ’t that be an interesting sight at 2 a.m.?

Well, itÂ’s stopped raining and I must answer pen pal mail (I still like old-fashioned correspondence), so Happy St. PatrickÂ’s Day everyone.

Irish blessing:

Mind Boggling Blogging

Posted on 2006-Mar-16 at 10:20

Blogging has opened-up other worlds for me. I appreciate the interactive nature of this form—communicating with people on a more personal basis from worldwide. Blogging also helps keep me focused as a writer.  Some of the emotions experienced when blogging are quite raw, but others time IÂ’m practically rolling on the floor laughing at some of the posts. Here is one “raw” experience—hearing about a fellow bloggerÂ’s confrontation with her motherÂ’s impending death. Excerpts: 

IÂ’m leaving mom probably for the last time tomorrow morning at 6:11 a.m.   The reality hit me hard today.  SheÂ’s been sick for a very long time.  SheÂ’s such a trooper and a fighter that we have visited her deathÂ’s door beforeÂ….many times.  This time however feels like itÂ’s the final curtain for my mother.  I pray every night for her to die in her sleep.  SheÂ’s tired of gasping for her breath, sheÂ’s tired of spending her time every two hours on a breathing machine, taking her many pills, and now not able to walk at all due to a broken hip.  Â…Â…Â….  I feel torn; she would never leave me if I were sickÂ….but, I have to go.  I love you, Mom!  

My response:

Oh, that is so hard to hear. I know what you’re going through. My beloved maternal grandmother and I were very close. She ended-up in a nursing home, begging me to take her home to live with me. She even asked if she could live in our daughter’s clubhouse in the backyard. She was desperate to get out of her predicament. She’d self-referred to the nursing home, knowing she couldn’t live alone anymore with the danger of fracturing her hips again. I took my then young sons with me to visit grandma. She and I knew it would be the last visit between us. She told me to go to her mobile home and take some things she’d saved for me. She said if I didn’t, her former caretaker would take it all (she’d already taken some beautiful old bamboo furniture the family admired through the years, amongst many other things). Not long after our visit, she ended-up in a psychiatric hospital because she refused physical therapy and who-knows-what-else. My mother didn’t tell me she was in such a facility. I found out about it after grandma’s death. It still hits me hard that I couldn’t be there for her at her most fragile time in life. I found out at her funeral (I wrote her eulogy) that my mother hadn’t written grandma’s legal name on her birth certificate. She went by “Donna,” but her legal name was “Madonna.”

I learn so much when blogging. For instance, after reading one writerÂ’s experience with armadillos and skunks, I decided to research armadillos for my daughtersÂ’ homeschooling lesson.  In the process, I learned more about the mammal than I probably needed to know—that some people eat roadkill armadillo, preparing the poor critter in every way possible and calling it “gourmet.” I learned that one species is the pink fairy armadillo (endangered species). Armadillos can come in 3, 6, or 9-banded. IÂ’ve only seen an armadillo in the zoo, but now I wish I could see one in the wild someday. People living in the American Southwest are probably laughing at me now, as they consider it a pest.

Some bloggers have the most unusual profile names. I really get a kick out of “Pink Freud’s” profile picture—showing the psychotherapist Sigmund Freud in pink hues.

My husband is a psychotherapist and I often joke around and call him “Siggy,” so I was happy to discover “Pink Freud.” HeÂ’s in my blog buddy list, as well as so many other wonderful people from all walks of life.  I wonder if “Pink Freud” is a play on “Pink Floyd,” the rock band. 

So much in the blogging world catches interest; that’s for sure. Today I read a new blogger’s post about wedding plans in a natural history museum. Another blogger posted a picture of a man’s home—filled with over 300 animal trophies

I have made many new friends by blogging. So far, I have blogs on Mindsay.com, homeschoolblogger.com, Journalspace, yahoo360, and blogspot.

Blogging is mind-boggling fun.

Copyright Susan L. Friesen 2006

Lindsea's heart biopsy and report on our field trip to Charles Paddock Zoo in Atascadero, CA

Posted on 2006-Feb-25 at 12:04