tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63045069226317244112024-03-13T21:19:09.804+02:00The Baby BlogsA blog about being a baby, by a baby.Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.comBlogger328125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-10102178835043509052020-09-17T20:30:00.000+03:002020-09-21T14:53:26.471+03:00Distance Learning Diary, Day 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2_PazqIiTqatBEVaS8Ec2RKW7cw5Him6O5ZBgBQKu4qlg5F1vqR82QFPyOgKxsWCbRbUSOTTl6cSLb2I7JIFwFvXt2JbnqTnprcsb_3AT46njnakzJwvXBktpdWBoN03XoKJ9H76LTo/s4032/IMG_5588.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2_PazqIiTqatBEVaS8Ec2RKW7cw5Him6O5ZBgBQKu4qlg5F1vqR82QFPyOgKxsWCbRbUSOTTl6cSLb2I7JIFwFvXt2JbnqTnprcsb_3AT46njnakzJwvXBktpdWBoN03XoKJ9H76LTo/s320/IMG_5588.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>We called in sick.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-89704106390007401422020-09-17T18:46:00.001+03:002020-09-21T14:39:16.872+03:00Distance Learning Diary: The first day of school ... at homeI failed to write about the first day of school this year. But then an even <i>more</i> auspicious event occurred - the first day of <i>distance</i> "learning," which rapidly descended upon us just 16 days after the start of the school year. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7_Aalr1FqfwLX7w1vV_zZpajNPn8LBp9Muy5BpjKaZfV_2KDgLsn8UFRmLIqdQiLyK5uqHVLeB89gdxq_MJVR6SzQ0KStSkrVC6zxasepI6_4-HeY0JOnRfMM4wY3yvOKuGbMwSDhek/s2048/IMG_5591.HEIC" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7_Aalr1FqfwLX7w1vV_zZpajNPn8LBp9Muy5BpjKaZfV_2KDgLsn8UFRmLIqdQiLyK5uqHVLeB89gdxq_MJVR6SzQ0KStSkrVC6zxasepI6_4-HeY0JOnRfMM4wY3yvOKuGbMwSDhek/s400/IMG_5591.HEIC" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second week of "real" school</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When you get to third grade, your "first day" is much less monumental than when you enter nursery, first grade or high school. But your first day of <i>home school</i> can never be underestimated or brushed aside. For that is the day that - unless you've <i>chosen by your own free will</i> that monumental task of being a home-schooling parent - that your parents lose whatever shred of sanity had remained in their meager souls.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And it was all so sudden.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We were happily floating along in smaller classrooms and masks and all when suddenly, the government decided to shut down the country. Then even more suddenly, as we sat in our classrooms learning one day, they decided to move up the shuttering of schools to ... the next day!! Suddenly it was our last day for three weeks (or who knows) and we had to pack for the apocalypse. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then our first day of "remote learning" commenced - with 150 messages on WhatsApp across three different groups (one per child) to begin the day, and no available or charged devices ...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As they were gearing up to tackle distance "learning" head on, mommy fired off a letter to the teachers warning them of our inevitable lack of cooperation and why: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>"Thank you for your understanding. We completely understand that you as teachers have to create consistency for the students and if you didn’t, many of the other parents would complain. I feel bad for those of you who have children at home and are going through this as well. Good luck! I blame the government for this situation, not the school. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>"We had a very stressful time last lockdown (in March, April) and we learned: </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>1. All of our kids are on different levels of learning </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>2. None of our kids can open a computer and connect to Zoom on their own </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>3. None of our kids can read their instructions for their homework </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>4. Neither Hebrew nor Arabic are either of the parents’ mother tongue which makes everything take a lot longer</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>5. We have a child with special needs who needs a sayat in school AND at home in order to learn </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>6. We both work and we need our phones and computers for work, so the kids cannot use our devices</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>7. None of our kids are independent learners and need lots of prodding to do any of their assignments. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>"Because of this, their home schooling requires 100% of our time - and yet we both work full time. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>"We want our kids to progress but it cannot come at the expense of our health and us yelling at them all day. Of course letting them do nothing is also a problem. We do not know what the answer is. We have no solutions and no idea how to make this better other than hire a full time tutor/babysitter/cook at home."</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Mommy was secretly hoping that this would result in the<i> offer </i>of a tutor/babysitter/cook, but that was not to be. Mommy and daddy would be tackling this alone. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And, as I take full credit for #5, I also offer very few solutions. But let's see how this all unfolds in a fun, almost-live blog type coverage of events that have galvanized the nation! </div></div>Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-79458351762182266392020-08-16T17:49:00.000+03:002020-08-16T17:49:22.088+03:00 Practicing birthday inclusion; inspiring world peace<div class="separator"><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div></div><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyt8oY61O1VG7lkXCCg-DTf5ZPXOpUjQRIKyRgjEHaqubkoSMr97PeB8h173AO6bU5OSX_dwIZ9zd7VkQGLVRhs8gGGhYtoMF8PjrrBA_OU_W1tjnma1GuuDtRg0733GQCQz0QR98fMA/w400-h300/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25288%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy peace day to the world!<br />Here are <i>my</i> worlds colliding...</td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>It’s not that I try to be inclusive, it’s just who I am. So when it came to the auspicious occasion of my 10th birthday, the celebration inadvertently became the party of all birthday parties.</p><p></p><p>Let’s be real, <a href="https://saudigazette.com.sa/article/596646" target="_blank">Thursday was a historic day</a>, bringing together unlikely sides to sign a groundbreaking peace agreement. But that was coming on the heels of my pwn party where <i>my</i> worlds collided with aplomb …and fun. A true enactment of “the table of brotherhood.” </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUF2oLgw8jRv16rimmWJIXhMACzc1bozw0-qsIVZG6yjmJwmkC9qLdedPoB_IQRfRIWPpSU3Y_0lY4LRJdQ58l8QukbuXTQxNTKwnj-s_y_AZEzNyW1tkdG4pdsH2CswgyIE3Z5kytCqk/s1600/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25284%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUF2oLgw8jRv16rimmWJIXhMACzc1bozw0-qsIVZG6yjmJwmkC9qLdedPoB_IQRfRIWPpSU3Y_0lY4LRJdQ58l8QukbuXTQxNTKwnj-s_y_AZEzNyW1tkdG4pdsH2CswgyIE3Z5kytCqk/w300-h400/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25284%2529.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking of brotherhood, Lucas is always <br />hard-pressed to <i>not</i> be the center of attention<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lyr5cF0Dh3rtrH9IWMfcpsCVqkyYWMkfdgCgj9VMBPoms9aUtbcF2QE1Fyr69NR7uVSVij7pd_kcJOCGuSAIIU_M7oVrk7sTABZwAbsWXY9a9VIKGig9fdt-ZvigV9EzP-1FxcSVL2M/s1600/e5f72e4a-4081-480a-8a05-0fb95429d66b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lyr5cF0Dh3rtrH9IWMfcpsCVqkyYWMkfdgCgj9VMBPoms9aUtbcF2QE1Fyr69NR7uVSVij7pd_kcJOCGuSAIIU_M7oVrk7sTABZwAbsWXY9a9VIKGig9fdt-ZvigV9EzP-1FxcSVL2M/w400-h300/e5f72e4a-4081-480a-8a05-0fb95429d66b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>And it all started with me celebrating my first in-country birthday since I was 1. We decided to coincide the timing and location of the party with a farewell to my group leaders at Shalva. Thanks to coronavirus, Shalva was suddenly shut down two weeks ago and we never had a proper group goodbye.</p><p>My guest list expanded from the Shalva girls, who fearlessly led our group this disjointed year, to include other volunteers from Shalva, some of my friends in our group and then expanded exponentially with an invitation to my second grade (going on third) at school.</p><p>We pulled this off in less than 24 hours. Mommy and Daddy worried about things like kosher and gluten-free food. We threw some picnic blankets on the grass at <a href="https://www.shalva.org/inclusion-at-shalva/" target="_blank">Shalva’s inclusive park</a> (in keeping with the theme of my party). </p><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudvUydV8iSB8cbT1StBPSVm3xddsBxPAWvDb0Vd1w9RcaY6K8cnJ3xNkwBFZ3pbTrPOF0B2o0FZxDgEK2Rn9CyofNrgmlom1t9yK7Q2z-NYMh0zFONpTCNXWUn1dWIMXQFsxDbSVQtUY/s1600/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25286%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudvUydV8iSB8cbT1StBPSVm3xddsBxPAWvDb0Vd1w9RcaY6K8cnJ3xNkwBFZ3pbTrPOF0B2o0FZxDgEK2Rn9CyofNrgmlom1t9yK7Q2z-NYMh0zFONpTCNXWUn1dWIMXQFsxDbSVQtUY/w320-h240/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25286%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We broke bread together. Or cake.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorHktphn7XX7bSSkUFBhyphenhypheng5X9g379H3WN6xPsaumWRHQsm9e-TD-d4E8GVolKxUey7GjnRpO3Gf6e2qAGIiFLdFgw5P5yozVXy83iioLrJwVrQMgo8lOF46U5Uo8rmrnyj0Dkne-vEKo/s1600/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorHktphn7XX7bSSkUFBhyphenhypheng5X9g379H3WN6xPsaumWRHQsm9e-TD-d4E8GVolKxUey7GjnRpO3Gf6e2qAGIiFLdFgw5P5yozVXy83iioLrJwVrQMgo8lOF46U5Uo8rmrnyj0Dkne-vEKo/w320-h240/WhatsApp+Image+2020-08-14+at+12.49.43+PM+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No I'm not smoking a peace pipe</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Bringing together people from different backgrounds shouldn’t be that hard. Here we were —kids with and without extra chromosomes; Jews, Muslims, Christians and even atheists — singing Happy Birthday in Hebrew and Arabic to a Christian and an Orthodox Jew respectively.<br /><p>My Shalva leaders cried buckets of tears watching me interact with the neuro-typical friends from school while the parents gazed in amazement at these teenagers who have dedicated years of their lives to volunteer with kids like me. It was a mutual admiration society.</p><p>And then, minutes later, clearly taking a queue from my playbook, Pres. Donald Trump announced a historic peace treaty, the first between Israel and a Muslim state in a quarter of a decade!</p><p><b><i>I am so proud and elated that my friends and I were the inspiration for world peace! </i></b></p><p>Leaders of the world, next time you’re looking for a peace treaty, you might want to call us.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpn7sG5-azxip2Pe41sOGrxwHJk8Uhfq_jN2Slx2SsASJ5YLK2v1F6Hro1sbOBHAoCVe3knmPpykAfzgcyoomUj29Rtwb3Yx5toAroTHZajYU1skISQUBaE-vopeYZjp1chE4vPKMSpSU/s1600/33ccd8ad-2639-4ed0-9885-4e1135e74e79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpn7sG5-azxip2Pe41sOGrxwHJk8Uhfq_jN2Slx2SsASJ5YLK2v1F6Hro1sbOBHAoCVe3knmPpykAfzgcyoomUj29Rtwb3Yx5toAroTHZajYU1skISQUBaE-vopeYZjp1chE4vPKMSpSU/w300-h400/33ccd8ad-2639-4ed0-9885-4e1135e74e79.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-3108892840442046232020-08-15T20:59:00.009+03:002020-08-15T22:45:42.375+03:00Guest blog: Mom embarrasses me with open letter on my 10th birthday<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8CEhbpDr4dOwyf53xEVrP48XrXOXICFfNQ8moqb6u2rBuGFPVnLnMW9dDLPMQt_847ze_oCgyUNyNSPwTKbZe0Gsgp3sChcDr2uUM6xyIfCrdHUohMJgDEhgj1_tjunxxsuobGfJzlKE/s960/117780527_3663536963677116_6289912222892523528_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8CEhbpDr4dOwyf53xEVrP48XrXOXICFfNQ8moqb6u2rBuGFPVnLnMW9dDLPMQt_847ze_oCgyUNyNSPwTKbZe0Gsgp3sChcDr2uUM6xyIfCrdHUohMJgDEhgj1_tjunxxsuobGfJzlKE/w226-h400/117780527_3663536963677116_6289912222892523528_n.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating my successful completion <br />of one decade!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>I have allowed my mom to embarrass me with an open letter to Yours Truly on my 10th birthday. Sigh.</i></p><p>Dear Daniel,</p><p>For your tenth birthday I would love to give you the gift of speech. I have no power to do this, of course, but I wish it so hard. Speech, speaking, communicating in a language that we understand … that would be my first and foremost gift for you.</p><p>I am fully aware of my own frustration that you cannot speak. That you cannot offer information or answer much more than yes-or-no questions. That I don’t know your favorite color or what you want for your birthday. When you are feeling sick or what foods you are craving.</p><p>What I am less aware of is the depth of your frustration. Because you cannot express that. I can only imagine that your angst far surpasses mine. It must be so aggravating that supposedly intelligent adults have no idea what you are saying. That we fail to grasp your basic needs and requests. And that we frequently guess wrong.</p><p>I’ve never heard you utter the words, “Can I invite so-and-so over for a playdate?” “I’m hungry.” “I want … I love… I hate…” I do hear those statements ad infinitum from your siblings, plus their constant squabbling and their millions of thoughts that spill out in a childlike stream of consciousness.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGf6kvkxwI_FfY5YNVM7unavM_LdaTcF-TV31FtDtKuxfzzSMeijGF4A7T-HXCHHSCTCNbO9R3U8qL7TaZuCKwQQL4OoXPYsYY0afn9g4iB2jrWIGOm1GEN1_b9STYF6qf1U05L-EnUc/s960/117861841_3663537190343760_6111029935501216916_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGf6kvkxwI_FfY5YNVM7unavM_LdaTcF-TV31FtDtKuxfzzSMeijGF4A7T-HXCHHSCTCNbO9R3U8qL7TaZuCKwQQL4OoXPYsYY0afn9g4iB2jrWIGOm1GEN1_b9STYF6qf1U05L-EnUc/w300-h400/117861841_3663537190343760_6111029935501216916_n.jpg" title="The Three... take your pick" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Three... take your pick</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yHCKycxQ9EPfyipyd6-vD_zPzVODDPxWg6CVsq8nrllNSUHcD4EmS4NjA_jlrcOpYX_7XCls5fMiyTFz_KlbtMIvsbtFcyxe86SPZUf13ZRGGm89D2Bfs4vlvHT310ymiJiNLT2hUQU/s960/117905347_3663536853677127_5804781484899704227_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yHCKycxQ9EPfyipyd6-vD_zPzVODDPxWg6CVsq8nrllNSUHcD4EmS4NjA_jlrcOpYX_7XCls5fMiyTFz_KlbtMIvsbtFcyxe86SPZUf13ZRGGm89D2Bfs4vlvHT310ymiJiNLT2hUQU/w300-h400/117905347_3663536853677127_5804781484899704227_n.jpg" title="We are supportive of each other ... when we are not arguing" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are supportive of each other ... <br />when we are not arguing</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIsq7ZLtSZBxioYeWiscOBeyTiImWVu6agsiP38z_6Jda9fY07YLZAYrqX02tiBVxKsi0d2zMDbQ8DSrqLsWxuzcyKM4CRh7OtLCxzeel3JkxCFo8ZKW5RsvCT2O-gO3cG19H1tjjiqY/s960/118046800_3663537157010430_3687473432072754408_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIsq7ZLtSZBxioYeWiscOBeyTiImWVu6agsiP38z_6Jda9fY07YLZAYrqX02tiBVxKsi0d2zMDbQ8DSrqLsWxuzcyKM4CRh7OtLCxzeel3JkxCFo8ZKW5RsvCT2O-gO3cG19H1tjjiqY/w300-h400/118046800_3663537157010430_3687473432072754408_n.jpg" title="One of the times when my parents wish I could say is I loved or hated the moment!" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of those moments when my parents wish I could <br />have told them how I felt, since I looked pretty mad!</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The truth is we do feel you. We know your moods and can sense when a meltdown is coming on. We know you in a different way than we know your siblings.</p><p>Speaking would probably be more a gift for me than for you. If you spoke, life would be much easier for me, your father, sibling, grandparents, teachers. We would be aware of what you know, whether you don’t understand and what you flat out ignore because you couldn’t care less.</p><p>Every year, all week leading up to your birthday, I don’t rejoice — I panic. I panic because you are another year older and yet you still do not speak. The therapists always assured us, “It will come!” “Give it time.” One set of experts decried learning sign language when you were young saying it would encourage you to be “lazy” and not talk. Another set of experts wanted to focus on picture cards and communication boards, which you hated.</p><p>If I had trusted that tried and true, nagging maternal instinct, I would have pressed the issue. But who was I to argue with professionals who were nonplussed by your lack of speech at age 3, then 4, 5 and 6? Anyway, we had enough to worry about, from open heart surgeries to advocating for inclusion at school. I rested content that “speech would come.” Yet as you grew to understand two languages fluently, you could barely imitate their sounds and construct words.</p><p>The experts eventually became concerned and added a diagnosis: Apraxia. Then the speech people argued about whether it was apraxia or dyspraxia. They said It would take work, repetition and everything we had ever done, times the thousands that we would never be eligible for, with the time we would never have enough of in a given week.</p><p>Thanks to the “experts,” I never considered that perhaps you would never actually be able to speak — and how we would deal with that as a family. Lately, I’ve started to consider that prospect.</p><p>So this year, as I was partaking in my annual pleadings before your birthday (please let him speak, please let him speak), I stopped myself.</p><p>For your tenth birthday, instead of wishing that you will speak — which I cannot make happen anyway — I wish really hard that I will find new ways to listen. I need to find new ways to hear you without speech. New avenues of communication.</p><p>My eyes must watch for subtle cues, rather than depend on hearing the raw exhaustion in a voice that indicates an oncoming meltdown. My mind must decipher between the various yelps of joy, fury, aggravation, surprise — all of which sounds the same.</p><p>My heart must listen louder than my ears.</p><p>Listening with one’s heart, for a still small voice, rather than an earthquake, takes fine tuning, patience, more attention and discipline. I’ve spent 10 years failing at this.</p><p>Do I want you to speak? Hell yes. Will it change my life? Certainly, and yours as well. Can I be content if you never speak? Honestly, I have little choice but to cope with that, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be “content.”</p><p>What I should do is make a conscious effort to listen to your current communication and adapt to it, rather than always try to fix it.</p><p>And perhaps (a big maybe!!), if I rest from trying to always fix things, I’ll be quiet enough to learn something new.</p><p>I doubt I will rest entirely, because mothers (parents) never do. But here’s to a new decade and a new direction in life. Happy birthday, Daniel!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4FcyXB-Q5o472SDT_0YClfQVviSNyib0VknDuvhIsdQ-8hK_vW1HSoBC0y-fu9nQvHDOYSqj81zZrHKXlb4PrUPlMksnQc_PO0TsYqWqQEn532XVPfFootio12QsJIt1M8VGMQ6QiU4/s960/117850131_3663536850343794_2811018562174552697_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS4FcyXB-Q5o472SDT_0YClfQVviSNyib0VknDuvhIsdQ-8hK_vW1HSoBC0y-fu9nQvHDOYSqj81zZrHKXlb4PrUPlMksnQc_PO0TsYqWqQEn532XVPfFootio12QsJIt1M8VGMQ6QiU4/w300-h400/117850131_3663536850343794_2811018562174552697_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We find plenty of ways to communicate<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQTu2nU57l2bJNHhemb6A7wdTFsebz_bgzlW9cAIBTIwcnEOzmyEWLnfrhLQbgeIiRjDvIJp8g4qlJJBbXUlStx_339Bl1MEgBiN1S64_-2BAYq-3d8go9ejtaVvtI_b1URPnrvrtitZc/s1930/117944555_3663264223704390_1334363596085818999_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1450" data-original-width="1930" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQTu2nU57l2bJNHhemb6A7wdTFsebz_bgzlW9cAIBTIwcnEOzmyEWLnfrhLQbgeIiRjDvIJp8g4qlJJBbXUlStx_339Bl1MEgBiN1S64_-2BAYq-3d8go9ejtaVvtI_b1URPnrvrtitZc/w400-h301/117944555_3663264223704390_1334363596085818999_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even without words, I get my message across!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-85754290313730604632020-04-03T14:26:00.000+03:002020-04-03T16:27:46.467+03:00Corona Statistics you don't see on the News!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNkC9iB62bSlJBaYcAFY5hb9EeB_va_POcf0csavYN3Pg_1bq2WBe7Q4DZWlgyYalWGR0rHHubuqCvLL3BgKOHty5qydwuQgDkJU4wxkPKyo7GaDfz4m2UqFzdVT9ytPlZLE6W8ArxQM/s1600/IMG_4083.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNkC9iB62bSlJBaYcAFY5hb9EeB_va_POcf0csavYN3Pg_1bq2WBe7Q4DZWlgyYalWGR0rHHubuqCvLL3BgKOHty5qydwuQgDkJU4wxkPKyo7GaDfz4m2UqFzdVT9ytPlZLE6W8ArxQM/s400/IMG_4083.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several daily Zoom calls for schooling and contact with long-lost friends</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b></b><br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b><b>Daily average statistics of our home quarantine </b></b></h3>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hours parsing WhatsApps groups to figure out daily school assignments: 3</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Daily homeschooling assignments completed: <b>.</b>4 out of 12 (with luck)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pencils gone missing or broken: 10 (yes, per day)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Zoom calls (for children): 4</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sheets of paper lost to doodling, drawing and "art" work: 36</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Meals consumed by three children: 65</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Food micro-particles swept off the floor: 1.57 million</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hours spent dish washing: 2</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Furniture items damaged to varying degrees: 1</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hours spent putting toys away again: 4</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Minutes spent in fresh air outside: 19</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sibling fights broken up: 85</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cases of coronavirus at home: 0</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Cases of high blood pressure: 2</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIOq9xqQigRQHPI0Eo8n1aPudzWPjeezAW_iabc81Fa3MGvUjLZqwn2L07rxa2NevJVeTURRTL9b4_5ot_lnHdfArYUMRAqJnpaD1OG9YUKpuHZ0GiXQo-LVSQyKr2OI6-K8riAVa3hcI/s1600/IMG_4090.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIOq9xqQigRQHPI0Eo8n1aPudzWPjeezAW_iabc81Fa3MGvUjLZqwn2L07rxa2NevJVeTURRTL9b4_5ot_lnHdfArYUMRAqJnpaD1OG9YUKpuHZ0GiXQo-LVSQyKr2OI6-K8riAVa3hcI/s400/IMG_4090.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During time out in our 100-meter perimeter. <br />
The forced labor includes Lucas reading to his non-attentive audience <br />
and the rest of us decorating the forlorn path less traveled these days.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-28332774347324050982020-04-03T14:07:00.000+03:002020-04-05T17:50:58.777+03:00Corona Fallout: 'Home Sheltering' and Remote 'Learning'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAzKBLg9eP0ugoIFYizBPJeRC88xObDan32K3lvL3ne_ljHnxYUI69nQX2f3zUntlZqyqMdcChU3f96BNbSr4jp0UIXpYx_CwKX3DG-U8HqXUOyGK-8TrctfRpe-PnfVNwlgFkqPoThw/s1600/A5C87CCB-7A72-4299-8183-E7173464206A.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAzKBLg9eP0ugoIFYizBPJeRC88xObDan32K3lvL3ne_ljHnxYUI69nQX2f3zUntlZqyqMdcChU3f96BNbSr4jp0UIXpYx_CwKX3DG-U8HqXUOyGK-8TrctfRpe-PnfVNwlgFkqPoThw/s400/A5C87CCB-7A72-4299-8183-E7173464206A.JPG" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me outside during yard time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the irony of what has come to be known as "home sheltering," the home itself has found itself in a situation that is the exact opposite of shelter since everything inside it - from food to furniture - has become an endangered species.<br />
<br />
As we hunker down for the interminable and indefinite future within the confines of our apartment, we fear all of our magic markers will run dry, that the entire stuffing will come out of that shiny new rip in our sofa, that the coils in daddy and mommy's bed will lose their spring due to our jumping and that our academic progress will be stunted beyond repair thanks to our new teachers (our parents, bless their hearts). My glasses, which I broke in a dazzling act right before the corona-shutdown, remain unfixed and unused. Our school shirts have been retired. And we drift casually from nighttime to daytime pajamas at some point in a 24-hour period.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXdJ7PddvOomuQlzPp6nCPpnHjFiG3dgVa6nnUENZ1z-9d6EDEOEqWJOLQWRqOpqMBeB_2mvyLfpgsdvY0GSLc3Rth45OkrlbwmN3UiHATy1PKiKRDHGD0OXNm4XtAhy4LMG5eldaueQ/s1600/IMG_4053.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXdJ7PddvOomuQlzPp6nCPpnHjFiG3dgVa6nnUENZ1z-9d6EDEOEqWJOLQWRqOpqMBeB_2mvyLfpgsdvY0GSLc3Rth45OkrlbwmN3UiHATy1PKiKRDHGD0OXNm4XtAhy4LMG5eldaueQ/s320/IMG_4053.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">If everything else fails in homeschooling...<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgykQvX2WtfbXoHrgp6ejgT4SdqRUmp2cOS5obexjBbL25M4xuNjCNw0LFqZcLLV8czz3F9rrmhMXH-Jh9WGMDiKI7IRb5jw77w7ivN2ga9kf0za2eRbRLULVl3-8amIratoOqkCDw_Rk/s1600/IMG_4055.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgykQvX2WtfbXoHrgp6ejgT4SdqRUmp2cOS5obexjBbL25M4xuNjCNw0LFqZcLLV8czz3F9rrmhMXH-Jh9WGMDiKI7IRb5jw77w7ivN2ga9kf0za2eRbRLULVl3-8amIratoOqkCDw_Rk/s400/IMG_4055.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">...at least we will be able to use our heads for something!<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNEWfH3S77fM0g-7GCADiqDyWbXdpXaSH3rg8MLCPPT3c1KTt6fE9q3rtWrllDjgROhp_Gxu4epOP6vBZhuqjLe848BBm7QvVYSGdiHqKRUqLzgN2Y7E4_04mh7MTXk2-FTrwcbe21gw/s1600/IMG_4035.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNEWfH3S77fM0g-7GCADiqDyWbXdpXaSH3rg8MLCPPT3c1KTt6fE9q3rtWrllDjgROhp_Gxu4epOP6vBZhuqjLe848BBm7QvVYSGdiHqKRUqLzgN2Y7E4_04mh7MTXk2-FTrwcbe21gw/s320/IMG_4035.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homeschool sports - on Zoom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5aUfHKXMVEp0GoxL2WsM4DCuWQ1nP4qz8WGhZ5UZBfu14iZT935XNFk3vcx1SvVofUpvOfE48dxGp13k1YFTIST3xCJqdPugCM3FILxKpgV3K2LiLlsYNkiF7m6ghpINXxhsgLRj8zVU/s1600/IMG_4038.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5aUfHKXMVEp0GoxL2WsM4DCuWQ1nP4qz8WGhZ5UZBfu14iZT935XNFk3vcx1SvVofUpvOfE48dxGp13k1YFTIST3xCJqdPugCM3FILxKpgV3K2LiLlsYNkiF7m6ghpINXxhsgLRj8zVU/s320/IMG_4038.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homeschool showoff<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Perhaps our fears are misplaced and we should be more concerned about the coronavirus seeping through our four walls. But for now we are too busy to add fear to our checklist. Hence, fewer blogs. On a positive note, maybe we can learn how to use the damaged wooden furniture to make paper. Now that would be what I call homeschooling.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ihcn_T5ZgD0/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ihcn_T5ZgD0?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
When parks just won't do... <i>because they are off limits! </i>Boredom is the new mother of invention.<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-19317107901377176102020-03-19T18:40:00.001+02:002020-03-19T18:45:39.804+02:00Coronapalooza: "Remote Learning" Day 5 <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7W0JYldlp223ZluA2pPqgOFMTk2T5LBSyZ0WJdtTJ1XFXxtnLAI5RoJsoZ_FIaQ9efNhF4hEnOXHo8uiYFHhVRikMhiWOAslvf_f0OWXYAg7UFyze3rYk7h1t8iLgSLwpHOWomkmignI/s1600/IMG_3973.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7W0JYldlp223ZluA2pPqgOFMTk2T5LBSyZ0WJdtTJ1XFXxtnLAI5RoJsoZ_FIaQ9efNhF4hEnOXHo8uiYFHhVRikMhiWOAslvf_f0OWXYAg7UFyze3rYk7h1t8iLgSLwpHOWomkmignI/s400/IMG_3973.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It has come to this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"Remote Learning" is going well. As you can see from this photo.<br />
<br />
What you may not know is that the floor onto which we are leaping is covered with blankets, stuffed animals, pajamas and pillows from our beds. And from the sofa.<br />
<br />
This is only symbolic of how mommy and daddy are feeling as they consider the balcony.<br />
<br />
Utter disaster.<br />
<br />
<b>Chaos. </b><br />
<br />
<b><i>Fauda</i>!</b> (which means chaos in Arabic and is <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4565380/" target="_blank">a great series</a> to watch in times of high anxiety!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxV9X6RkewVJQBGzT_YXmp95To1OYrlOMu7tqglVtiaavQhqcik5R1J78c4XxY-9RidcRgdplGew24GYHGwhCV8jL9-3mjSzA0YtvsjJdcysW4sqXPxKlHolDSH0ZTHk1xWOCQlm-tJE4/s1600/PHOTO-2020-03-19-18-15-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxV9X6RkewVJQBGzT_YXmp95To1OYrlOMu7tqglVtiaavQhqcik5R1J78c4XxY-9RidcRgdplGew24GYHGwhCV8jL9-3mjSzA0YtvsjJdcysW4sqXPxKlHolDSH0ZTHk1xWOCQlm-tJE4/s400/PHOTO-2020-03-19-18-15-32.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
But never mind, most of the pressure is essentially off as this is the LAST DAY of remote learning! I'm not really sure what happened but the announcement came in last night that we no longer get our live stream of teachers who tackled various subjects to keep us somewhat up to date on our academic skills.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how much regression we can expect in the next five weeks. Or what we will do if the internet goes down or iPads stop working.<br />
<br />
But never mind academics. We are being rather creative and helpful even in times of crisis and quarantine. Lucas will help the children of the world improve their judo skills, one Lego doll at a time:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ps4EtItVpQ4/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ps4EtItVpQ4?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/NnNo_eTnILs/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NnNo_eTnILs?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-80811610942706508782020-03-16T19:45:00.001+02:002020-03-16T19:45:09.371+02:00“Remote Learning” Day 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="240" id="id_ff83_5fe0_b1fb_1ddb" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/Py9MUVJgBmlgZVe60LcTtJ1C9V_wssYjIgbl9iM0is4AvLpIgzxwlB-NP03hzio" style="height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 353px;" title="" tooltip="" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Schools are out. And so are we!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div>
Israeli schools are closed and millions of students are supposed to be learning from home in an effort to curb the spread of the contagious coronavirus. This is what we are doing instead. <i>See photo</i> ☝🏼</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The Hebrew language uses certain abbreviations for some phrases such as “<i>halat</i>” which stands for <i>hofesh le’lo teshlum</i>, meaning vacation without pay. We’ve just developed a new phrase as evidenced by these photos: <i>halal - hofesh le’lo limudim -</i> vacation without learning!<br />
<br />
While many adults are currently getting sent off to "unpaid vacations," the children are sent off to "vacation" and, if we learned anything in school, there is no formal "learning" on vacation!</div>
</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-81295974675882071042020-03-15T22:45:00.001+02:002020-03-15T23:00:47.298+02:00Corona Update #3: “Remote Learning”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpD3VAMFhaJTWkBOrjSht_4HZZNyr0fKk5vCgiZjHvsv0GcA3IDK60G5Y-rt7E2eIthOhdg33vsEJ9qKpRaEbZ1mVs6v3XGRnG898JfEb2aAAP90bMOomKYqh7pc4PGzO-Nfo9bhb7_nM/s1600/IMG_3909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpD3VAMFhaJTWkBOrjSht_4HZZNyr0fKk5vCgiZjHvsv0GcA3IDK60G5Y-rt7E2eIthOhdg33vsEJ9qKpRaEbZ1mVs6v3XGRnG898JfEb2aAAP90bMOomKYqh7pc4PGzO-Nfo9bhb7_nM/s640/IMG_3909.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Remote learning"<br />
Right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It is Day 1 of Five Weeks in the Wilderness of No School. You can see how this is going. Send the kids out on their own to learn about nature ... or something ... and monitor from a distance. With a cup of coffee.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ueklLFd0przH15Ulrqfr5QfpnrGSfw84BML6Tkc9pbtz-serSJOjNe_UVcf9_i5ZzY5tBv-cDF9iwLHyET0kEfeBbrRq7XQlNYl-NCRgDL5d2Z2V-OzpBOjzrWAX_hrx8GgvReHEXmY/s1600/IMG_3910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ueklLFd0przH15Ulrqfr5QfpnrGSfw84BML6Tkc9pbtz-serSJOjNe_UVcf9_i5ZzY5tBv-cDF9iwLHyET0kEfeBbrRq7XQlNYl-NCRgDL5d2Z2V-OzpBOjzrWAX_hrx8GgvReHEXmY/s400/IMG_3910.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Counting by cookies! Gotta love "home schooling"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No time for blogging, mommy has to try to work after I go to bed. Can you hear us kids laughing from across the ocean, desert, home quarantine ... or whatever has come between us?<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwncUFDd9DeiF4TZ7b8WGTayKM7w4QyzM-pu5upvdNMzE5fGGQGkxZpkGYHRNGBh0b5hYVrlMHOHLbJ_y0e2tgEeqJ94mCVeMJUGEDYP8d98DZ6TMB5Y38-qNkHW6oRuPEPxgQywJXdEU/s1600/IMG_3913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwncUFDd9DeiF4TZ7b8WGTayKM7w4QyzM-pu5upvdNMzE5fGGQGkxZpkGYHRNGBh0b5hYVrlMHOHLbJ_y0e2tgEeqJ94mCVeMJUGEDYP8d98DZ6TMB5Y38-qNkHW6oRuPEPxgQywJXdEU/s400/IMG_3913.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As you can see, the bribery attempts have already deteriorated into home-baked cookies. M&D are in trouble! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-11864206320041854812020-03-14T23:09:00.001+02:002020-03-14T23:14:55.185+02:00Corona Update #2: Home Schooling 101<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7ZBPCCu7HV-HMoAHcjZrc53nnxgYU29IWc_NlZu-_XrAqu-X6XOZSYn6w-7xBSIyCM7jWEUAwvObjsL4jNhi3pD9rmR5qYHBQPD2MeZ-09nsSRPfqu2yRw7nHEzCL80-e6AuT0i0RM0/s1600/IMG_3875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7ZBPCCu7HV-HMoAHcjZrc53nnxgYU29IWc_NlZu-_XrAqu-X6XOZSYn6w-7xBSIyCM7jWEUAwvObjsL4jNhi3pD9rmR5qYHBQPD2MeZ-09nsSRPfqu2yRw7nHEzCL80-e6AuT0i0RM0/s400/IMG_3875.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All alone in the world. The Holy Land under <br />
lockdown and an empty Old City in Jerusalem.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's official: Schools are closed for an eternal five weeks, up till and <i>through</i> the Passover and Easter break. Five weeks. At least. Thank you, #Coronavacation!<br />
<br />
And at the same time, there shall be nothing to do with all this free time. In light of #Coronapanicdemic, everything in the country from restaurants to amusement parks to gyms and malls have been shut down except for supermarkets. What will I do without Shalva and my girlfriends, Talia, Adi and Tehila? And Epraim and Aharon? What will I do without school, without Yasmin, Haim and Haya, Mustafa, Dror and Eyal? It will be lonely and jarring having no routine and not seeing my friends. I will also not be getting therapy and my siblings will probably find out soon that their after-school activities are canceled too.<br />
<br />
Supposedly the Ministry of Education has a digitized system in place for home learning, but mommy and daddy can already see where this is going. We've already destroyed the apartment several times over, I personally broke the cable box (fixed now), we've eaten 80 times a day (so much for stockpiling) and we've used every available scrap paper for "arts and crafts" (poor trees).<br />
<br />
And that was just the weekend! We haven't even embarked upon our five-week journey in the wilderness.<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-42007180805406641202020-03-11T10:07:00.004+02:002020-03-11T10:07:46.756+02:00The Purim Nightmare: The Most ^&^#% Time of the Year for Kids with SN (and their parents)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYoCTUaItmrKykdjw2r23SDZdsBd6aZcW-guQZrlQhm1RYWzli2KVBFhortdk-4dzRxlO_cUjk9e1QsA7YZxBO12b29Q5l0VtzWFgRRGsMQ0KQU7kNWGjaD6hb-aVZkkoQYy-9ytzje3Y/s1600/IMG_3854.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYoCTUaItmrKykdjw2r23SDZdsBd6aZcW-guQZrlQhm1RYWzli2KVBFhortdk-4dzRxlO_cUjk9e1QsA7YZxBO12b29Q5l0VtzWFgRRGsMQ0KQU7kNWGjaD6hb-aVZkkoQYy-9ytzje3Y/s400/IMG_3854.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conquering Purim one party and costume-day at a time.<br />I do get a little better each year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSCtsEhZF5Vkf75r3AbmYXJnaSPAS-WtbImymPfKWTo5R6qLmC7Y_rfsprU2WWUbCnuGkTsNZB4BndNdfBsekMN5tyR0W4k0wza9FFvAPXVbwOZLNVqEgnsm7jXMyMmjWv_eLLxZX5RY/s1600/IMG_3800.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSCtsEhZF5Vkf75r3AbmYXJnaSPAS-WtbImymPfKWTo5R6qLmC7Y_rfsprU2WWUbCnuGkTsNZB4BndNdfBsekMN5tyR0W4k0wza9FFvAPXVbwOZLNVqEgnsm7jXMyMmjWv_eLLxZX5RY/s400/IMG_3800.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These kids have no problems with Purim. <br />In fact, they look forward to it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's almost over. I'm holding my breath for next week when the confetti settles and we can all put on regular clothes and maintain a regular schedule again (until all school are closed down for Corona!).<br />
<br />
Let me paint a picture of one segment of the population: <i>Communication issues, sensory processing challenges, anxiety, behavioral foibles, ADD/ADHD, panic attacks, apraxia/dispraxia, autism, Down syndrome, the list goes on.</i><br />
<br />
Stack that list next to the adjectives of Purim: <i>Loud music, itchy costumes, dress-up days at school, different schedules at school, </i><i>days off from school, </i><i>noisemakers, costumes, parties and gatherings, CANDY and lots of it, the list goes on.</i><br />
<br />
This is a cocktail of <i>disaster</i> for children with challenges.<br />
<br />
Purim is a time in Israel that is sometimes compared to Halloween because we dress up in costumes and get candy. But the comparison ends there.<br />
<br />
Halloween is a one-day affair. Purim, on the contrary, has taken on a week-long aura of utter madness, and even involves, in great Jewish tradition, drinking and making merriment even until till one falls on his or her face in a drunken stupor, if need be!<br />
<br />
The child-friendly version doesn't involve alcohol, but instead there are many "happenings" which are essentially parties with loud music. And to exacerbate the entire season, the main Purim prop is called a <i>noisemaker.</i><br />
<br />
We also have a weekly schedule of weird ways to dress for school such as hat day (as if I ever put anything on my head); pajama day (contrary to what I've learned that we change from pajamas to clothes otherwise I should not be going to school), backwards clothes day (never in my pedantic book should that be allowed, not to mention having a shirt tag itching my throat), and, ultimately, all of these are merely appetizers leading up to the main affair: costume day.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately for our school, <a href="http://www.thebabyblogsbydaniel.com/2020/03/corona-update-1-o-little-townstreet-of.html" target="_blank">costume day was postponed due to coronavirus</a> so we still have that ahead of us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lQl0MBv3MDHlW3sLdgXQXJEAD-l0NOB9dRiltuJ9kiqlhyphenhyphenEu8Ta8xqvWJPBCf6a4W9_jfiQ2faK8Q2rITkWKDr-o_DTQ1RrkJxhJ6QiPESs3qJl_fGzP-uU-q5lFE3A6zWRHGnug9zs/s1600/IMG_3795.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0lQl0MBv3MDHlW3sLdgXQXJEAD-l0NOB9dRiltuJ9kiqlhyphenhyphenEu8Ta8xqvWJPBCf6a4W9_jfiQ2faK8Q2rITkWKDr-o_DTQ1RrkJxhJ6QiPESs3qJl_fGzP-uU-q5lFE3A6zWRHGnug9zs/s320/IMG_3795.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
We also give and receive gifts, traditionally comprised of sugar-filled, food-dyed candies and other such items. This brings to utter ruin any ounce of stable brain function and placid behavior that was left.<br />
<br />
The increase of sugar, plus the silliness of the week creates a party atmosphere which disrupts our normal schedule. I am a mess if not on a schedule. Look, I already find it hard to function on "normal" let alone throw some madness into the mix.<br />
<br />
All around the world of special needs there are meltdowns, anxiety attacks and bouts of stimming. On a Facebook page for parents of special needs, the repeated cries are: "Purim sucks," "Purim is a disaster,""I hate Purim!"<br />
<br />
Many SN parents strategize Purim months in advance. Some solutions include: Dressing their kids in character T-shirts instead of an actual costume; wearing costumes all year round to ease Purim day; refusing invitations to certain/most events, dinners and friends' houses knowing an inevitable meltdown will cause the entire family to flee in the middle of an event; and lastly, investing in some good earplugs.<br />
<br />
These parents are drinking alcohol just to sober up, not to "make merry."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSzyUt0yu7gXSRFjDuUKvoT6qaXD2BoJYz5AShLNEUVXPiM4w-qAC9SHxP9XnFI64qZKDnDQG5Zz4qsadum5ObCvueR6mwnPHbG0rwzZGAiQl53BhL9ipxVDgn7TvhFHqcxw_5qanqOU/s1600/IMG_3801.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSzyUt0yu7gXSRFjDuUKvoT6qaXD2BoJYz5AShLNEUVXPiM4w-qAC9SHxP9XnFI64qZKDnDQG5Zz4qsadum5ObCvueR6mwnPHbG0rwzZGAiQl53BhL9ipxVDgn7TvhFHqcxw_5qanqOU/s320/IMG_3801.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
This year, the seasonal drink of choice for Purim is:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgihraLm4384_iG_CP2AucWgms3weDS_uTcAVgdWeOCvptyrN83IPuaCOaWV3bF6HAYTcfwodAf5ukvuEYd4wHeYDIKFmTI2WsYbcdqkTc9F_bVfJPVAcmH-7hVS9vXPHy8Iggb81jAQ/s1600/34491-0w600h600_Corona_Extra_Mexican_Blonde_Beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgihraLm4384_iG_CP2AucWgms3weDS_uTcAVgdWeOCvptyrN83IPuaCOaWV3bF6HAYTcfwodAf5ukvuEYd4wHeYDIKFmTI2WsYbcdqkTc9F_bVfJPVAcmH-7hVS9vXPHy8Iggb81jAQ/s320/34491-0w600h600_Corona_Extra_Mexican_Blonde_Beer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Happy holidays!</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-55427870876477492892020-03-10T21:31:00.001+02:002020-03-10T21:58:49.508+02:00Corona update #1: O Little Town/Street of Bethlehem <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLLwP5usWj6Pd4RMcU3n_5DoN1XZUAqhMoRy2WRAwIBhuRfutI4HP1XxlDzLF3pNOz5zVhpNk4BoSJFZR6I7BhFsY4RpJVxGusY5FmVLkIk7ClYXXYcHq-Fn7V3fjKpu7_KmSyhS8aBtE/s1600/IMG_3801.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLLwP5usWj6Pd4RMcU3n_5DoN1XZUAqhMoRy2WRAwIBhuRfutI4HP1XxlDzLF3pNOz5zVhpNk4BoSJFZR6I7BhFsY4RpJVxGusY5FmVLkIk7ClYXXYcHq-Fn7V3fjKpu7_KmSyhS8aBtE/s400/IMG_3801.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raia/Jasmine of Arabia with Tiger Rajah<br />
on Bethlehem <i>ROAD</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Living in Coronaviruspanic land has been interesting to say the least, and third elections be darned, there is <i>no other news</i> in all of Israel. Forget prime minister, the Ministry of Health is in the running to be the <i>Messiah</i> as it continues to institute restrictions designed to save all citizens.<br />
<br />
One particular edict that came out last week rocked our little world: <i>People that live in or have been to Bethlehem in the last two weeks have been ordered to quarantine themselves. </i><br />
<br />
That is like saying all of Queens should be quarantined immediately including anyone who landed at an airport and took public transportation after their flight over the past two weeks.<br />
<br />
Okay, maybe a smaller neighborhood than the vast Queens county, but still. You get the picture.<br />
<br />
The announcement about Bethlehem affected a large percentage of people at our school, students and staff alike. Our school had been flying under the radar being the only public school still having classes and not on the weeklong break that is Purim. I'm not sure if we were being punished for learning, but the Ministry of Education teamed up with the Min of Health and they swept in to find out if Coronamaniavirus has breached the seal of our school's doors.<br />
<br />
One by one, the teachers asked each student whether they have been to Bethlehem in the last few days. Raia, who is in first grade, didn't think long about this trick question. <br />
<br />
"Yes," she emphatically responded!<br />
<br />
That sent the school into a tizzy and prompted an immediate phone call from her teacher who interrogated mommy as to our whereabouts in the last few weeks.<br />
<br />
“No we haven’t been there in the past two weeks,” mommy was perplexed. “I don’t know why Raia would say that.”<br />
<br />
<i>Was Raia intentionally trying to get our family quarantined??? </i>Then a lightbulb went on for dad.<br />
<br />
“We live on Bethlehem <b><i>Road</i></b>!”<br />
<br />
Sure enough, the source of the confusion. Well at least she knows her address.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, it was all enough for MOH/MOE to decide <a href="https://www.timesofisrael.com/jewish-arab-school-puts-some-staff-pupils-in-quarantine-denies-total-lockdown/" target="_blank">to shutter the school</a>. Parents, who were deep into their workdays around the country at the plum hour of 11 a.m., received an alarming and urgent message: ALL STUDIES HAVE CEASED AS OF THIS MOMENT. COME PICK UP YOUR CHILDREN IMMEDIATELY!<br />
<br />
Fake news, mommy scoffed and continued writing. But as more messages poured in, they realized it was actual. It was actual that parents had to come pick up us kids... but there was not one case of coronavirus at our school (thank God). Nevertheless, there was no need to continue learning while the rest of the city gathered at large events and infected one another anyway.<br />
<br />
We banked an extra day and a half of vacation! Go kids!<br />
<br />
<i>Continue to check back in for all of the important Coronavirus updates impacting the lives of children worldwide.</i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-13501225550412858112020-03-06T12:50:00.003+02:002020-03-06T13:00:04.398+02:00The annual field trip and the infamous 'snack' obsession<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivn4t701MsQxPzG_V0m5GVl8QIzgGRCoObgfmGXKz65aD-v5uqEULdLbZacSYiwPbJf19BTdDnkKbghGEdt4h2tWPVfeEvqW5Ry6p1zT5JxPb9BK3SrDUyMHyO_1K56vXBexYfWlYplok/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1198" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivn4t701MsQxPzG_V0m5GVl8QIzgGRCoObgfmGXKz65aD-v5uqEULdLbZacSYiwPbJf19BTdDnkKbghGEdt4h2tWPVfeEvqW5Ry6p1zT5JxPb9BK3SrDUyMHyO_1K56vXBexYfWlYplok/s400/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-46.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't be fooled outdoorsy activity: <br />
The main takeaway was much less lofty</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4F-XNN-YvBJ9dBS0YcqKuPR15BLCJrRCsVvwjLK22ZbNx9MTW7huygt5QUcnadUdmmkZWjM8ooenDe2phZzcU50H98C-Rwkziex_e0CUHHsPDrHqR-TRMayVEgFZ4rcxqhSyqevz6WQ8/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-47-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="479" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4F-XNN-YvBJ9dBS0YcqKuPR15BLCJrRCsVvwjLK22ZbNx9MTW7huygt5QUcnadUdmmkZWjM8ooenDe2phZzcU50H98C-Rwkziex_e0CUHHsPDrHqR-TRMayVEgFZ4rcxqhSyqevz6WQ8/s400/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-47-1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our annual field trip!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXbHPTB1W8eRAsXo2Fgyd2k5WT4d5WGY-yCR9xesIJ3jtLwZL5oS8EUXabZGSdVDwoQemStdsxFFcWBzQr9A0V_nTOYyn86cRW0P2z9f7ErNwehwzhAfIaA33GGtY0m1Z-CgjzdYU6RY/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="479" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXbHPTB1W8eRAsXo2Fgyd2k5WT4d5WGY-yCR9xesIJ3jtLwZL5oS8EUXabZGSdVDwoQemStdsxFFcWBzQr9A0V_nTOYyn86cRW0P2z9f7ErNwehwzhAfIaA33GGtY0m1Z-CgjzdYU6RY/s400/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-48.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a great time, but ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv__OLbZ1e3wXXbwXcYdV7pe7vEUNwPAJn198a7oaLw-9CVyYBEarEW6DSOsVeRPmR08ZGnKqdSMr6SDDc8gIcAP2Tcwc7FQbEfqydyR3_N69raLV3Sn1GJuDqKpxjAUK0lLOI_8vo1Xc/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="401" data-original-width="314" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv__OLbZ1e3wXXbwXcYdV7pe7vEUNwPAJn198a7oaLw-9CVyYBEarEW6DSOsVeRPmR08ZGnKqdSMr6SDDc8gIcAP2Tcwc7FQbEfqydyR3_N69raLV3Sn1GJuDqKpxjAUK0lLOI_8vo1Xc/s400/PHOTO-2020-02-27-14-45-47.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...note the real star of the show: The "Hatif"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here in Israel, all school year builds up to the "annual field trip." The excitement is palpable as the day draws near and school children are all atwitter about the big day - or actually a specific aspect of the day.<br />
<br />
Mommy was excited to find out where the tour would be so, one by one, she asked us about the <i>tiyul shnati</i> (annual field trip).<br />
<br />
Lucas: "The teachers told us we can bring <i><b>two</b> hatifim </i>(snacks)."<br />
<br />
Mommy: "Sure," she shook her head in confusion. "But what did they say about the place you are going?"<br />
<br />
Lucas: "I don't remember."<br />
<br />
Well, he is a boy. Mommy moved on to Raia for more information and asked about the field trip.<br />
<br />
Raia: "Maya H. is going to share her <i>hatif</i> with me. I'm going to share one of my <i>hatifim</i> with Maya B. And I'm going to sit with Miral on the bus and we will share our <i>hatifim</i>!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKiIdcMhScmTDSoPl07sy0FQozjaiXQwWcV93GhR1I0tzJZzD1CwURQHhPS1sWbAurXTXm21ee23EoMzkUL6BrEAIF4t0zCqlwOf_UFdpGcMZ_OOKwq2gr3-eUeld1F6WKjgoEJzsDPBo/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-13-24-22-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKiIdcMhScmTDSoPl07sy0FQozjaiXQwWcV93GhR1I0tzJZzD1CwURQHhPS1sWbAurXTXm21ee23EoMzkUL6BrEAIF4t0zCqlwOf_UFdpGcMZ_OOKwq2gr3-eUeld1F6WKjgoEJzsDPBo/s320/PHOTO-2020-02-27-13-24-22-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
And on she continued about who was going to share what snack and with whom and how many she could bring. Still no information on the actual trip.<br />
<br />
Yes, every year around the annual field trip or any other shorter field trip to a museum or the zoo, <i>hatif</i> obsession sets in.<br />
<br />
<i>Hatif</i> is very simply translated as "snack," but on the day of the annual field trip, it absorbs an ethereal, galactic meaning that mesmerizes children all across the land. On these days, <i>hatif</i> means:<i> "Any food item previously banned that shall be temporarily allowed for a specific amount of time."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
True translation: Junk food.<br />
<br />
More specifically, candy, chocolate, a bag of chips and other such junk that is not necessarily allowed at school and possibly also at home. Hence, the children are agog over the lifted ban and look forward to those few hours of bliss. They think it means that their parents are <i>obligated</i> to comply with the new regulation.<br />
<br />
The actual field trip was a hike on the outskirts of Jerusalem at a nature trail currently arrayed with budding spring flowers and the puffy white balls of almond blossoms adorning trees like snow. We had beautiful weather and I endeared myself to one of the guides.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UE706Dg4kOZhnU7DVzUCZzcjp_LfXJae820C74WGGOM5p4mI-UQf6ex8TWc01hZheElr2fsMDHPPmXSpTpcVxvxmJ8PvENmVSyxMlgNDVoIz0pK0mHOyc0_omP6-SjrN8PvwFV_ei98/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-12-45-35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UE706Dg4kOZhnU7DVzUCZzcjp_LfXJae820C74WGGOM5p4mI-UQf6ex8TWc01hZheElr2fsMDHPPmXSpTpcVxvxmJ8PvENmVSyxMlgNDVoIz0pK0mHOyc0_omP6-SjrN8PvwFV_ei98/s320/PHOTO-2020-02-27-12-45-35.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Mommy wondered if we noticed any of this because, almond blossoms be dammed, the main report from the field trip was about the <i>hatifim. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"So-and-so brought this <i>hatif</i>." "So-and-so dropped his <i>hatif</i> and cried." "So-and-so shared her <i>hatif</i> but So-and-so did not share her <i>hatif</i>."<br />
<br />
And so on.<br />
<br />
Mommy tried to outsmart us and found spelt pretzels with sesame seeds on sale and she bought the big bags, knowing that sharing is part of the obsession. The carob-filled spelt wafers were also on sale so they also went into our backpacks. We were oblivious to the fact that these were not white flour and chocolate and so we felt adequately illegal. The teachers recommended packing an extra lunch for us as well, but mommy has learned her lesson by now -- there would be so much snacking that we would not eat real food. And truly, one sandwich was more than sufficient and not even fully consumed.<br />
<br />
With the field trip behind us, the ban on <i>hatifim</i> has been reinstated - at least until Purim (next week) when the entire holiday revolves around all things junk food and costumes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBCMg68no3trr39bxoUR_DBCoIjZKkrtIrggGn0dzztLGQI9mqIPbpPd4F4NXar1d9lWg2KXJW9KX7kMZheXOZpqSTuDBcjQF-Gp4dWQy9sEhhqQGMIxjXZnELMESzO1Ap-gTsPnidsY/s1600/PHOTO-2020-02-27-13-24-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBCMg68no3trr39bxoUR_DBCoIjZKkrtIrggGn0dzztLGQI9mqIPbpPd4F4NXar1d9lWg2KXJW9KX7kMZheXOZpqSTuDBcjQF-Gp4dWQy9sEhhqQGMIxjXZnELMESzO1Ap-gTsPnidsY/s400/PHOTO-2020-02-27-13-24-22.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-60474635131657591422020-03-02T14:47:00.000+02:002020-03-02T14:47:22.428+02:00The Beginning of the End ... of the school year!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh36weJBbPkS8dze2SrSVkfEpfB7GDJ2n_kYxcEF1PRTj-T1P4W5pU6m07LDnMDKXq0-GElCYkftpN0XRQ8apfLR5bsfbZCpdzObtblqkEC_eyN2APgO5dMgDQYVOdz3H0hllBHDqtfbw/s1600/IMG_3727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="750" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh36weJBbPkS8dze2SrSVkfEpfB7GDJ2n_kYxcEF1PRTj-T1P4W5pU6m07LDnMDKXq0-GElCYkftpN0XRQ8apfLR5bsfbZCpdzObtblqkEC_eyN2APgO5dMgDQYVOdz3H0hllBHDqtfbw/s400/IMG_3727.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating the end of school as we know it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The spirit of Purim is in the air. People all around Israel are starting to think about God used Esther and her uncle Mordecai to save an entire race from destruction.<br />
<br />
Oh you didn't think I was serious did you? No, this is the season of utter and rampant silliness. My parents received a school schedule outlining a week of random dress up days <b>at school </b>including animal day, hat day and pajama day among them, and all those just appetizers until we get to the main course -- the day we finally don our <i>real</i> Purim costumes.<br />
<br />
Nothing spiritual is going on, not even the gift packages we are making full of candy and other attention-deficit enhancing sweets.<br />
<br />
And, if you are a parent, you are sensing the beginning of the end.<br />
<br />
Yes, the school year, which ends on June 30 every year, is as good as over as this week of psychotic activities commences. After Purim, which is like Greek Week all over Israeli public schools in both its length and raucousness, we have just a few days until Passover break starts.<br />
<br />
Passover break resembles the Israelites' exodus from Egypt (which is a symbolic start) and then the subsequent 40 years in the wilderness. The Lord mandated that Passover be a weeklong observance but the Israeli schools have made it closer to a month.<br />
<br />
The prospect of so many vacation days adds up to a sense of excitement permeating the air if you are a kid in public school. You can see light at the end of the tunnel, the end of consistent learning is so close we can taste it. And after all these long months of learning since Hanukkah in December we totally need a break already!<br />
<br />
And heck, while we are at it, let's take <b>today</b> off for<i> another</i> Election Day! It's only our third election in less than a year, giving us an extra three days off from school that help us get through our academic year. So today we are pregaming our next two months of vacation with a day off today as well.<br />
<br />
Life is good for kids who need a day off while parents are wondering how to work for a living.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7KVhjqSk_pLN-N2gy6lKGtZ7nRdYx08kdgxntBJ4-K_1W_A7X5ODLS4_WSErD1gJi8h95PIKJVaORCqtdRb1pGzF4pQbAKkZ3tJhpGuCkWjRWJJS5eeACYY4jddJSRI2tQM29pBchnc/s1600/IMG_3715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="972" data-original-width="750" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7KVhjqSk_pLN-N2gy6lKGtZ7nRdYx08kdgxntBJ4-K_1W_A7X5ODLS4_WSErD1gJi8h95PIKJVaORCqtdRb1pGzF4pQbAKkZ3tJhpGuCkWjRWJJS5eeACYY4jddJSRI2tQM29pBchnc/s400/IMG_3715.JPG" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating a day off before the days/weeks/months <br />of vacation!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJs5AVtFTXSOhciiqL3dEP3Pk8wW-VmkpbDMu5qVTshMJnjuswMFDxgMzmNLva2YiO12tVwpwMZs1ciDJGjvb9NaTWEap1L4hEPQlFWgWBYvPq9IYGhMW5xnvEqN4wvVJkk35n8e0bgXk/s1600/IMG_3716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJs5AVtFTXSOhciiqL3dEP3Pk8wW-VmkpbDMu5qVTshMJnjuswMFDxgMzmNLva2YiO12tVwpwMZs1ciDJGjvb9NaTWEap1L4hEPQlFWgWBYvPq9IYGhMW5xnvEqN4wvVJkk35n8e0bgXk/s400/IMG_3716.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tis the season to serve up silliness on a platter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5baTOlZ-S0gUOi5RWOpNlMr1UyL7KwpvOF3ikRDvy1b5vA3llvCzf8VPR9SZnUH1B-_gMyh55V_P405DjPcOxh5Zni_tvZt3eBD5To80ccgAOk41r64aIykPGhA_VTXONO0pQS8JszlU/s1600/IMG_3717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="750" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5baTOlZ-S0gUOi5RWOpNlMr1UyL7KwpvOF3ikRDvy1b5vA3llvCzf8VPR9SZnUH1B-_gMyh55V_P405DjPcOxh5Zni_tvZt3eBD5To80ccgAOk41r64aIykPGhA_VTXONO0pQS8JszlU/s400/IMG_3717.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And who better to practice our penchant for drama, partying<br />and hilarity than with our friend Debi!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6fCT-Jc8MJT0d5UCQkU8vp7Hsob3RVaXtd5tsZpYyDvIySOOFvnv2ABRARRDFyNMW7ASPfBkB7u_XPI2PyWWREFFWjvf4CFoDkDBZncjUX1dnkAR5f-FCwd65m_z1RXqOPRU5-TLcNQ/s1600/IMG_3728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="750" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6fCT-Jc8MJT0d5UCQkU8vp7Hsob3RVaXtd5tsZpYyDvIySOOFvnv2ABRARRDFyNMW7ASPfBkB7u_XPI2PyWWREFFWjvf4CFoDkDBZncjUX1dnkAR5f-FCwd65m_z1RXqOPRU5-TLcNQ/s400/IMG_3728.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stretching the limits of insanity with vacation days!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-30912350213613637222019-10-31T11:13:00.002+02:002019-10-31T12:23:19.141+02:00Bringing true awareness to Down syndrome, as only I can<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBaNaeV3Ze_8qSTDzu8qx6glhYNh_iHuqk6B9wyQHhv_w8W0ZEJ3HrKDM1ge2DAah0BO30U9Y6OQK1J_0aNXyXyER-5YHGIF0q9Cu1f98obmIxgTFdZ2OjjmCajsl47zOD6xzLyzICDxk/s1600/IMG_9135.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBaNaeV3Ze_8qSTDzu8qx6glhYNh_iHuqk6B9wyQHhv_w8W0ZEJ3HrKDM1ge2DAah0BO30U9Y6OQK1J_0aNXyXyER-5YHGIF0q9Cu1f98obmIxgTFdZ2OjjmCajsl47zOD6xzLyzICDxk/s320/IMG_9135.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making you aware of me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Every October is Down syndrome awareness month and, every year, amazing articles are published by parents or others who have a loved one with DS. They detail the challenges, the joys, the milestones, the first time they heard the diagnosis and other aspects of life with Trisomy 21 — all inspirational and worth reading. I recommend searching the Internet to find a few of these moving stories.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We all (especially my parents!) love reading the success stories and the warm and encouraging testimonials of those who have overcome obstacles and achieved amazing feats. I, however, am going to give you a different glimpse of life with T21 and how I personally provided quite a “keen” awareness of Down syndrome this month:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 1. We are going into a <i>restaurant? </i>Nope, not me. No way! After my parents dragged me in anyway, I showed them… I sat under the table for a half hour. Hey, at least I didn’t scream. I came up for air and ate some food in silence. I welcomed the part when we finally left and I quickly returned to my cheerful self, like nothing bad ever happened. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 2 The beach. I am at my calmest when near an ocean or sea. I love being pummeled by the waves and can stand there, up to my knees, for a good hour after everyone else is bored and wants to retreat to the blanket. When I’m done with the waves, I sit in the sand and bury my hands in deep. And then I inevitably take a few bites. There’s nothing like the taste and grit of sand in my mouth!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 4 My parents dragged me and my siblings to the mall. Big mistake. As soon as we entered I noted the sheer depth and enormity of the building, and I dropped to the ground in full dead-weight mode. A mall is a layered form of torture: a huge building comprised of many mini buildings inside. Way too much stimulation happening here. But this is where protesting works in my favor — dad offers to carry me on his shoulders. This has worked in several cities around the world. While the rest of the family is enjoying touring a city by foot and seeing new sites, from the Coliseum to the Acropolis to Red Square, I’m usually overwhelmed and melting down and I refuse to walk. The only option to keep me moving is to carry me. Then I’m actually happy as a lark. I am 9. </div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KIo_WfCb6rPUOXXjckvWmqKCdMbuGOUprnbj9mJE3TDoVuBqZBk8OaHevjo6mGcN2rr9kWXkOhUgDuQbK7sZxfErykgBapwtm4QWBT-llvWyRrsr2VNDqmmY5XzF7JLP0ElLCEWe_Ls/s1600/PHOTO-2019-10-11-21-20-54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KIo_WfCb6rPUOXXjckvWmqKCdMbuGOUprnbj9mJE3TDoVuBqZBk8OaHevjo6mGcN2rr9kWXkOhUgDuQbK7sZxfErykgBapwtm4QWBT-llvWyRrsr2VNDqmmY5XzF7JLP0ElLCEWe_Ls/s400/PHOTO-2019-10-11-21-20-54.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm a baby-pro! Here I am whispering to my latest cousin, <br />
Yasmeen, all the secrets of the Baby Code. (See Oct. 14)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 5 Because I <b><i>threw</i></b> and lost my very expensive glasses last month, my parents took me to an eyeglass shop to get a new pair. Luckily we were already armed with a painstakingly gotten prescription so all I had to do was try on frames. Simple right? Au contraire. Do not let anything touch my face. I fell to the floor — in the middle of the store — in protest. Again, dead-weight mode. My mother wrenched her back trying to hoist me to my feet. Finally my father came to the rescue and, with both of them cajoling (and holding my arms down) I agreed to try on some frames — for one second each. We aren’t sure if they looked good but we quickly decided on two pairs anyway (you always need a backup). I may have also screamed intelligibly a few times. I don’t remember but my mother said everyone acted as if they never heard a 9 year old scream before, while pretending they weren’t listening. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 7 I was overcome with joy when my cousins arrived for a visit. So overwhelmed was I that I ran immediately across the street to greet them, without a care in the world. My mother says I’m lucky I’m still <i>in</i> this world and that no car was passing by at that exact moment. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 9 <i>Another restaurant??? </i>Abject panic. This time I couldn’t sit under the table, but I stood in a far empty corner of the restaurant for a good 15 minutes. We call this progress compared to Oct. 1. And I really enjoyed the ravioli. @<a href="https://piccolosny.com/" target="_blank">Piccolos</a> #bestravioliintheworld</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 10 My parents told me we were heading in a certain direction — then there was a lot of intelligible chatter as they spoke quickly and processed some new bit of information at lightning speed — and they changed direction. Sorry, no. I do not switch lanes. I went running for the door in the direction we were originally headed. I had to be dragged back moaning and crying. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1oFfOzzcNBPrY-Ub5RmbCgWEGmYmQgHSTBbChyphenhyphenrDVNCuQkeYySwZmBvGHo-bysQdiondd_paUuaZ2zm23-_GIWIvJ_ZBrPWPKct5gdJSHrxcqITK7fKzMMYLSMzG21nD5TenUDCkAUA/s1600/IMG_0770.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1oFfOzzcNBPrY-Ub5RmbCgWEGmYmQgHSTBbChyphenhyphenrDVNCuQkeYySwZmBvGHo-bysQdiondd_paUuaZ2zm23-_GIWIvJ_ZBrPWPKct5gdJSHrxcqITK7fKzMMYLSMzG21nD5TenUDCkAUA/s320/IMG_0770.HEIC" width="240" /></a>Oct. 12 Horseback riding. It is where I belong! I haven't ridden for almost a year but I haven't lost my mojo, in fact I got better at trotting and commanding my steed to stop and go. @<a href="https://www.facebook.com/HorseAbility/" target="_blank">HorseAbility</a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 13 Thanks to the latest Amazon delivery, I now have a compression vest that keeps me snug and less sensory seeking. My parents bought it in order to secure my chest bone which is on an express train growing outwards after my last open heart surgery 10 months ago. But a happy surprise side effect of this vest has been a slight calming of my sensory needs.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 14 We have a new baby cousin and I had the distinct honor of being the first of the cousins to hold her. I am her oldest cousin on this side of the family and I inwardly vowed to mentor her in the way of babies. I was extremely gentle, but occasionally overcome with emotion and couldn't help squeezing her, patting her soft head and kissing her cute face). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 15 My parents returned to the oppressive place they call the mall — and this time, they left me with my grandparents. They did, however, take my brother and sister. Seems they learned their lesson. But if they didn’t have those babysitters, they would’ve had to choose between certain public meltdown or staying home.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 17 At the airport on the way home. Despite being a very public place, swarming with people, delays, lines and start-and-stop movements, my parents had no choice but to take me since we were heading back home. They are traumatized from previous meltdowns, accidents and even an in-flight manifestation of full-blown pneumonia which resulted in a six-night hospital stay after landing. But amazingly this trip, which included two long flights and several delays, went smoothly. Yay! We will consider traveling again!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsFkyHfQQ2nDYH8jRfJt0BfMz5u771qQLX01IrpU_iVQzMvhZp4XDJ-flvv4NQhVo5odVZAvGvUxKz9-krZ4f13_BYWVcpcXM10UMkaWhaCiOOnjzUqMr2cxyry3slMeJ8zCaRlRyaSs/s1600/IMG_2193.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsFkyHfQQ2nDYH8jRfJt0BfMz5u771qQLX01IrpU_iVQzMvhZp4XDJ-flvv4NQhVo5odVZAvGvUxKz9-krZ4f13_BYWVcpcXM10UMkaWhaCiOOnjzUqMr2cxyry3slMeJ8zCaRlRyaSs/s320/IMG_2193.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We still fit as carry on. Whew!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Oct. 20 We are in the midst of overcoming jet lag and my mother has begun to panic: It’s been a month and I’ve refused to do any homework, so now it’s time. To humor her I actually took a pencil and played connect the dots. She was overly impressed and hopes this behavior will continue. Ha ha. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 22 First day back to school after the holidays. To flick my proverbial middle finger at the fact that I hadn’t had a framework of school or therapy for over a month, I ran away from my classroom several times. And just for good measure, I threw my new glasses. Here’s to back to school!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 22 First day back to school after the holidays, and for a healthy dose of positive behavior, I used pictures and a few words to tell my class that I went to Moscow and New York during the break. I pointed out Red Square and other sites, uncommon for most children let alone those of us prone to freaking out in new places. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 24 Our long awaited visit with the endocrinologist has finally arrived. My mother doesn’t even remember why she made the appointment since it was a five-month wait. According to my measurements, I’m barely visible on the DS growth chart and not even on the same planet as the “regular kid” growth chart. But doctor declares that despite my shocking shortfall (no pun intended) all is well and no one needs to care! Doctors are not mommy's favorite.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 27 Daylight saving has come to an end and most people are grateful for that extra hour they had to sleep that day. I had an extra hour to play and wreak havoc around our home before I woke up everyone else. I love to maximize that extra hour we get once a year. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 28 On the bus coming home from my after-school program, another kid (who also has “special needs”) decided to lose it for a little while. He punched the chaperon and pulled another kid’s hair all the while screaming and shouting. I freaked out. That was really scary and so I peed in my pants, because that’s what I do when I panic. I got off the bus crying and took awhile to calm down. These special needs kids are so weird.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6zUvEENKBsw-u3BoxzH9cz_yHDee-6Db7W5IZUCxBl4BFWb3ZKG3uF-tay1h-8_yTXHE2TpSN1sY1Q8Ma9ZVfnngnxn9phqlA-Va27QdwfPL8L2URtZrKCZE4BKuPbBl8LXWArDgaV0/s1600/IMG_1958.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6zUvEENKBsw-u3BoxzH9cz_yHDee-6Db7W5IZUCxBl4BFWb3ZKG3uF-tay1h-8_yTXHE2TpSN1sY1Q8Ma9ZVfnngnxn9phqlA-Va27QdwfPL8L2URtZrKCZE4BKuPbBl8LXWArDgaV0/s320/IMG_1958.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Despite the labels, I cannot be put in a box. <br />
Or on a chart!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Oct. 29 My mouth needs a lot of sensory input. But most doctors and therapists can’t be bothered to diagnose past “Down syndrome.” Why bother with “trivial” issues such as “sensory processing disorder” when you’ve got an extra chromosome raging in every cell of your body? Hence, I do self therapy. In this case, I decided to chew on my new glasses. I bent the frame beyond repair and scratched the lens with my teeth. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 30 Today I lost my jacket and my water bottle at school. Being mostly nonverbal I can’t tell anyone where I may have left them. But those are small losses compared to glasses, right? I like to give my parents the opportunity to constantly recalibrate their perspective in life. I'm good like that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oct. 31 Daddy was asleep still in bed so I pulled the covers off him and said, “Good morning!” Considering I’m nearly nonverbal, this simple greeting was like a happy jolt of coffee to get him out of bed smiling. All in all, I'd say October had been a great month!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This is the type of Down syndrome awareness that my family, teachers, therapists and my ever-patient PA (aka, my shadow at school) experience on a daily basis, year round. It is a 365-day cycle of battling, overcoming, rejoicing and picking up for the next battle. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So thank goodness for October when all the uplifting stories are published, giving us hope that "this too shall pass" and that success awaits us around every corner!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-54452428690490365172019-08-11T13:26:00.000+03:002019-08-11T17:16:27.327+03:00So long, Sarande!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLS73XEIc6JzjI3fk4GjoY4GXixSLMcEoSoXM5v3o7sF-MsCpCvsnQ-vjtG_6RgNnkb09H1kffG1wZ-bFmY2IA_39K10F1CtuHpuYYh47tJSEQWwH6ljE-bsH5dTrW1kqf3GQxLYb7Pho/s1600/IMG_0589.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLS73XEIc6JzjI3fk4GjoY4GXixSLMcEoSoXM5v3o7sF-MsCpCvsnQ-vjtG_6RgNnkb09H1kffG1wZ-bFmY2IA_39K10F1CtuHpuYYh47tJSEQWwH6ljE-bsH5dTrW1kqf3GQxLYb7Pho/s400/IMG_0589.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">The Baby Blogs hits the road!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86zh_ER2u_zT3xJpGqqrpwlQ18ZOfR54QWAsCmr-4zSYedV1vQdgTmxohpe5ZacCMco_XwQJxvBneJTjKgxxJIavMxXoLPhmCSrrS6P2lcXiTGj74zV6hxNkMAgBy4XBhtgtWu7H6rEE/s1600/IMG_0508.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86zh_ER2u_zT3xJpGqqrpwlQ18ZOfR54QWAsCmr-4zSYedV1vQdgTmxohpe5ZacCMco_XwQJxvBneJTjKgxxJIavMxXoLPhmCSrrS6P2lcXiTGj74zV6hxNkMAgBy4XBhtgtWu7H6rEE/s400/IMG_0508.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the sea to the mountains of Albania</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiolHiGiRR-kBZuMyrprqaSIqLkaPUcM-B_h_TQdpBxrlI0UcP0Nx-47TE1TGH2ivXiPA_5UjuBBf-U-AvH4MrEbC0OfBwyyLBfZ-_hGmA6zuULOWI1zVyFNATxAV7812NpUkHQKh2nR4/s1600/IMG_0655.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiolHiGiRR-kBZuMyrprqaSIqLkaPUcM-B_h_TQdpBxrlI0UcP0Nx-47TE1TGH2ivXiPA_5UjuBBf-U-AvH4MrEbC0OfBwyyLBfZ-_hGmA6zuULOWI1zVyFNATxAV7812NpUkHQKh2nR4/s320/IMG_0655.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Why Albania? Because traveling to a country sight unseen with three children who are hyper and all of whom are prone to meltdowns at any given time especially one of whom is nonverbal is the only sort of adventure travel my parents can muster these days.<br />
<br />
And so instead of trekking across the Himalayas or backpacking the Alps or skydiving, bungee jumping or getting waterboarded, my parents take their kids on overseas excursions and experience much if not more than the adrenaline equivalent and heavy lifting and anxiety of these crazy stunts.<br />
<br />
Unless we are taking a precarious ferry or a beaten up paddle boat to a deserted island in which case they are not pulling these stunts on land but also on water where children are in more so imminent danger.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihfY_lnzgwbvNNvJc6_Yp8IWblaODxITNQ89zWUF9QIbwuIQaTwUbK6Rr0-PlzniD_RNRrHyKMLoyVhjWccEOUUIQd5O2JVzQMeOzXlwprCymTHHeSsNfLmvslCHw_zqa6njpG56GyV3Q/s1600/IMG_0416.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihfY_lnzgwbvNNvJc6_Yp8IWblaODxITNQ89zWUF9QIbwuIQaTwUbK6Rr0-PlzniD_RNRrHyKMLoyVhjWccEOUUIQd5O2JVzQMeOzXlwprCymTHHeSsNfLmvslCHw_zqa6njpG56GyV3Q/s400/IMG_0416.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Nene on the adventure of a lifetime!<br />
Italian food is popular in Sarande as we demonstrate here...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWg0PFSDuO_5UqBbmXW2jCftoSAf0gxggnYPTxa7sjzKPdZc0tSDAWuVgiZ60MoBXS4dz0TxY6KMVYRBjlFUMnCcxHG8RRaAthEn0HrNbzPniEjWB9Qq6-PFz9QZ5eAAmoxBJ1hqH4p4o/s1600/IMG_0516.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWg0PFSDuO_5UqBbmXW2jCftoSAf0gxggnYPTxa7sjzKPdZc0tSDAWuVgiZ60MoBXS4dz0TxY6KMVYRBjlFUMnCcxHG8RRaAthEn0HrNbzPniEjWB9Qq6-PFz9QZ5eAAmoxBJ1hqH4p4o/s400/IMG_0516.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Old City of Gjirokaster</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lzcfj9OTxwgEya6zgBTCjQeaQGsZ6rn-cj-XmpfnV8G51Ls4f1awiin0uhjQxHrESDe1rhSA2djrZz-1peg4NPulxOai4rAgK1Tq1z6SqHkGQcg_uLvZwhmnt15b8UyXrO8i-q2HTMc/s1600/IMG_0522.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lzcfj9OTxwgEya6zgBTCjQeaQGsZ6rn-cj-XmpfnV8G51Ls4f1awiin0uhjQxHrESDe1rhSA2djrZz-1peg4NPulxOai4rAgK1Tq1z6SqHkGQcg_uLvZwhmnt15b8UyXrO8i-q2HTMc/s320/IMG_0522.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the old castle of Gjirokaster</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51KMTR4DvmMynurmngbry9wsAzSfhqwGf21ik9_wh1ze_ofc7KXFJJSLUHkyyNbPPI0ukjN29XL6_8cnOqJwpSn1_MrwOw9ZLSALeCz6hs8bIandyEdX7IxN3m1ErHMLq09xmmA0HZrQ/s1600/IMG_0530.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51KMTR4DvmMynurmngbry9wsAzSfhqwGf21ik9_wh1ze_ofc7KXFJJSLUHkyyNbPPI0ukjN29XL6_8cnOqJwpSn1_MrwOw9ZLSALeCz6hs8bIandyEdX7IxN3m1ErHMLq09xmmA0HZrQ/s320/IMG_0530.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO4JepAatyHfOkHH-ASZMPj01fN71b4d5n9W_yiItp0hT02-Br_sAnt7UtE73u99krJOh-2qJQPJk1GmjBcxgkidGzwUCCIEg9pj61VEZVcUHaAAHa-GNhAN1U0jUF6An4kv99R_XyEU/s1600/IMG_0563.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO4JepAatyHfOkHH-ASZMPj01fN71b4d5n9W_yiItp0hT02-Br_sAnt7UtE73u99krJOh-2qJQPJk1GmjBcxgkidGzwUCCIEg9pj61VEZVcUHaAAHa-GNhAN1U0jUF6An4kv99R_XyEU/s400/IMG_0563.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blue Eye, an amazing natural wonder</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOnUdMUv5R2pvRX2mQmcPJ4J34gw08FOtKu97gsjPOvPNzE_dHy6-n4TRZVUS22wtrCFVzlKmJa8ZXH_-IE2RGeuonz6BUaiXjvYtHkklKVBjeM9OXvkYr2rEGjlm9AN26oC60dubmC4/s1600/IMG_0593.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOnUdMUv5R2pvRX2mQmcPJ4J34gw08FOtKu97gsjPOvPNzE_dHy6-n4TRZVUS22wtrCFVzlKmJa8ZXH_-IE2RGeuonz6BUaiXjvYtHkklKVBjeM9OXvkYr2rEGjlm9AN26oC60dubmC4/s320/IMG_0593.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a deserted island</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIPk3wYKQc8Ws9_rPYVjbFQqiMvMwGlEhJsoO_d3KzKASw_LIMeFPVd4ZkrERrbpIt6ICRpTY3PPoMGHdn9NP5ithDY5tAn0HNXchpsfjIBg19eWmkOmoWdfi8PpJCWCHW-4wFN56g0o/s1600/IMG_0629.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIPk3wYKQc8Ws9_rPYVjbFQqiMvMwGlEhJsoO_d3KzKASw_LIMeFPVd4ZkrERrbpIt6ICRpTY3PPoMGHdn9NP5ithDY5tAn0HNXchpsfjIBg19eWmkOmoWdfi8PpJCWCHW-4wFN56g0o/s320/IMG_0629.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Albanian sunset </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-72007761062327670022019-02-24T17:09:00.001+02:002019-02-24T17:14:28.400+02:00Saying goodbye to Nanni<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOWXa3XUjtRXUXOj7c1NTamG59euMtTQQ0xvGW80fY4AaNFbCHUWo3Pfc813IGEqpH2roUTR0mwHnY6_CzHuXqlwwy1F9JldBjT8rCv6fKDLy0SxVDK0W-JV18pDsj4TAV_41vinf2S4/s1600/52606122_10157162593279248_6076666837305655296_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOWXa3XUjtRXUXOj7c1NTamG59euMtTQQ0xvGW80fY4AaNFbCHUWo3Pfc813IGEqpH2roUTR0mwHnY6_CzHuXqlwwy1F9JldBjT8rCv6fKDLy0SxVDK0W-JV18pDsj4TAV_41vinf2S4/s400/52606122_10157162593279248_6076666837305655296_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dilma Viotti Spagnoli: A Class Act.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHqC7ixnSm3qt5zH7b6coHSZ1E-sa5hp0CXOFzLDL42vAU8dhWILqWFbkYdDrmTdsPiyHJhHY48wCoA8QG3j1ClPRgp5q8FwmK8-gR3YOluKt_BGSeKNs1a7a2TtSE8504NDLSmteA1Q/s1600/52598625_10216349377179765_8458597605939609600_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHqC7ixnSm3qt5zH7b6coHSZ1E-sa5hp0CXOFzLDL42vAU8dhWILqWFbkYdDrmTdsPiyHJhHY48wCoA8QG3j1ClPRgp5q8FwmK8-gR3YOluKt_BGSeKNs1a7a2TtSE8504NDLSmteA1Q/s400/52598625_10216349377179765_8458597605939609600_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and a "great" great-grandmother.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I just lost my last living grandparent and with that came a rush of memories flipping through my mind like a rolodex of our time together and thoughts about our family mosaic, our heritage and the generations that have built who we are today.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>“The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;<b> Indeed, my heritage is beautiful</b> to me.” Psalm 16:6</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Indeed, I’ve always thought that of my family. I’ve been blessed. I had great-grandparents until I was 16. I had three grandparents until I was married. I had two until I had my first child. And they weren’t just alive, but they were fully invested in life and family.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And our heritage is indeed beautiful.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dilma (nee Viotti) Spagnoli, or Nanni, stands tall in a generationally minded family that instilled values and passed on traditions, without words or lessons, but just by their very essence. Nanni, like her husband and her parents before her, stood with honor as patriarchs and matriarchs before passing the baton to the next generation. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nanni herself was the kindest and most approachable person. While she spent most of her life as the backdrop to Popi’s exciting career as a band leader, Nanni avoided the spotlight. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nevertheless, Nanni had an uncanny ability to shine the spotlight on any person that came into her presence. While Popi played to the crowds Nanni played to the one. She made each individual feel like the most important person in the world. And that is because she actually believed it. Nanni saw the best in everyone.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKqIWpiSmnE4iWK6OA_I00sQu-vFk1mydK6ED0Y1FrOzJxG9oLMLe3gGkiQ_7EH3tZo4QgUNteOqb28LD8CwTTZjbiDgxrytDCd4krJgHmFnQdKX_7Y6YsVXgBYTiFoENcW7ngBj8PfU/s1600/51699056_10216349006890508_3877387511508500480_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="402" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKqIWpiSmnE4iWK6OA_I00sQu-vFk1mydK6ED0Y1FrOzJxG9oLMLe3gGkiQ_7EH3tZo4QgUNteOqb28LD8CwTTZjbiDgxrytDCd4krJgHmFnQdKX_7Y6YsVXgBYTiFoENcW7ngBj8PfU/s400/51699056_10216349006890508_3877387511508500480_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joy to the World. One of many family <br />
Christmas celebrations.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And when it came to her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she saw only perfection. We could draw nothing less than beautiful or get grades that rendered us anything but brilliant. She referred to her great-grandchildren her “little angels” and let them ride with her on her wheelchair and run circles around her peaceful living room — far from the decorum with which she normally lived. She accepted all of them as they are without question and she defended them fiercely.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Though Nanni eschewed attention she channeled “attention to detail” into everything she did. Details that brought life to the ordinary: Mint leaves from the garden in ice tea; beautiful stitching she added to a dress; matching accessories with every outfit; an infectious and ever present smile. It was this attention to detail that set a tone of welcome in her home, which always teemed with love.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nanni radiated warmth. She was approachable.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Nanni was a class act.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
In fact, Nanni was the definition of class. With her passes an era, an irrevocable time gone by. A time when jeans and cell phones did not exist. Her marriage lasted 63 years, until death did they part. It wasn’t luck that they fell upon, but hard work and principles. Dilma comported herself with poise, always dressed smartly and even elegantly for outings. She maintained a connection to her Italian relatives writing letters by hand and sending photos until recently. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICXjlQq3EeCYq2fpdbgx4woCNyOJUutQEZLmvCcKfcSwbwvvh3RPhDtSy__tY0FbAtGFUKKaGJW2uXu9uAj5D398_hNgsLhe0bO0kGh_Y1xbdLYoF4GqIbzXkguEu34zQQVOyGC9n2F0/s1600/52574031_10216349006970510_5502243316839743488_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICXjlQq3EeCYq2fpdbgx4woCNyOJUutQEZLmvCcKfcSwbwvvh3RPhDtSy__tY0FbAtGFUKKaGJW2uXu9uAj5D398_hNgsLhe0bO0kGh_Y1xbdLYoF4GqIbzXkguEu34zQQVOyGC9n2F0/s400/52574031_10216349006970510_5502243316839743488_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">63 AMAZING years. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She was industrious and hard working as a wife and mother and before that as a seamstress in New York’s Garment District. Long after she stopped working she created her own clothing and that of her daughters for years to come. Her dresses were fit to appear on the runways of the time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At just 3 years old she traversed the Atlantic Ocean with her parents from Italy to live out the American dream. The Viottis were the immigrants of yore that came to the United States prepared to work hard and integrate fully into society and the English language.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But the family fiercely clung to their traditions, those glorious Italian traditions. Northern Italian food, music and the dances we all attended. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It always comes back to food: When Nanni and her mother, Clelia (Nonni), pulled out the special wooden board for making pasta we would swoon with expectation. I’ll never forget witnessing the day-long miracle of gnocchi creation. There was the occasional polenta production. And there were the days leading to Christmas when they would together churn out <a href="http://www.turinitalyguide.com/bugie-italian-carnival-recipe/" target="_blank"><i>bugie</i></a>, deep frying the bowtie cookies and sprinkling them with powdered sugar. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Family events at their home were opened up with a toast: A Negroni for adults and a Shirley Temple for the kids. <i>Cin-cin</i> (a shortened version of <i>cent’anni</i>), we would raise our glasses — To 100 years!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Most of us, when our elderly loved ones die, wonder if perhaps we’ll find a treasure buried in the yard or concealed somewhere in their house. We did find one after Nanni passed: My sister uncovered a letter that our grandfather, Dilma’s husband Pete, wrote a year before he himself died some seven years ago. In it he listed his chief accomplishments and highlights in life. All had to do with family. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
“I had a very good life. The good Lord gave me a wonderful wife and children. I loved her dearly… I couldn’t live without her.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He talked about his two daughters: “They were a blessing. We were very proud of them. … The girls married wonderful guys.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And when mentioning the highlight of his life, he again turned not to career, fame or fortune: “The height of my life was when I took my family to Italy in 1997.” He called it “one of the best things” he ever did and added, “with the help of Nanni.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With the help of Nanni. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1QTjsfSS3Kg98ecgk822uccapTRvNDY2PFw1rBBCeh8cVZvq3dMWszIffitAnVUYYQQ7somnvN_PvR8fIjm2MQcnmTQQH3Hwk7h0pHKGM6FuuRdNnxbYWRUdAvif1TxePGTVmaW0qqsA/s1600/52699458_10216349008410546_9059459119718596608_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1QTjsfSS3Kg98ecgk822uccapTRvNDY2PFw1rBBCeh8cVZvq3dMWszIffitAnVUYYQQ7somnvN_PvR8fIjm2MQcnmTQQH3Hwk7h0pHKGM6FuuRdNnxbYWRUdAvif1TxePGTVmaW0qqsA/s400/52699458_10216349008410546_9059459119718596608_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the highlights of my life too, Popi! <br />
Trevi Fountain, Rome, 1998</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
We have so much to be grateful for as we say goodbye to Nanni. With the help of Nanni we grew up loved, feeling valued, building character and knowing our roots. It is here we found our treasure.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It’s hard to glance at our lives here on earth and not physically see the human representation of our history such as Nanni and Popi. But we trust that this treasure they have deposited has been woven into the fabric of our beings. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And as history moves on, we can only hope to fill their enormous shoes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>The following photos are from the last time we saw Nanni, summer 2018:</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_E9vLa8zjiyMSTvq59W_aGWxrRf9P4YFZk9bPLR-xrfQ_4F9LGwRKIS1BkyaovbMJaMxB9fI1LNXoIFBNAupfvx9rtAB6dRSL1FRsDlTiaJyykXzz92aP1Hn60j-3q-4VIm1bWFbDzGs/s1600/PHOTO-2018-08-07-09-54-52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_E9vLa8zjiyMSTvq59W_aGWxrRf9P4YFZk9bPLR-xrfQ_4F9LGwRKIS1BkyaovbMJaMxB9fI1LNXoIFBNAupfvx9rtAB6dRSL1FRsDlTiaJyykXzz92aP1Hn60j-3q-4VIm1bWFbDzGs/s400/PHOTO-2018-08-07-09-54-52.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqI812ozeRElbLxo5dYnxMjS6wqO4O3Q3gBMUY3_isk1Nuygt4ChVKe0CPhvZKa2QTLMCIVyRKkGMPxeife2kO2a9muQOsVkcXWUtyQ_W7-CW15NV3oRdedYaTZaBNw6ulgMacgXIMWx4/s1600/IMG_0379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqI812ozeRElbLxo5dYnxMjS6wqO4O3Q3gBMUY3_isk1Nuygt4ChVKe0CPhvZKa2QTLMCIVyRKkGMPxeife2kO2a9muQOsVkcXWUtyQ_W7-CW15NV3oRdedYaTZaBNw6ulgMacgXIMWx4/s400/IMG_0379.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYsJ1fZ6nYgql3QASzF3uT-766M3zeEbuJ-k4T9PDZlNJuDHZP87oIA1VwVO1LWvd1M2RJez7WcV52FHWWWav0PKF59aWO_rKXr-9SfZIb4VuWTNkUG9hUPFrGZtYHhMR5b61Oj0hF1s/s1600/IMG_6582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYsJ1fZ6nYgql3QASzF3uT-766M3zeEbuJ-k4T9PDZlNJuDHZP87oIA1VwVO1LWvd1M2RJez7WcV52FHWWWav0PKF59aWO_rKXr-9SfZIb4VuWTNkUG9hUPFrGZtYHhMR5b61Oj0hF1s/s400/IMG_6582.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WgfLTAeQE667WMoNjhasTXodMSj4tBaMXievjEZkcY5OLLD2fvhM5u4rPxkJomo85KmtL40krgqj8s37xAvTYTwnVcfX9yUqlEUAiBewO8ZgA2W5Yz-cQEJi58ily_dBLJiajtNzPEo/s1600/IMG_6584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WgfLTAeQE667WMoNjhasTXodMSj4tBaMXievjEZkcY5OLLD2fvhM5u4rPxkJomo85KmtL40krgqj8s37xAvTYTwnVcfX9yUqlEUAiBewO8ZgA2W5Yz-cQEJi58ily_dBLJiajtNzPEo/s400/IMG_6584.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-5248727945849489332019-01-29T15:06:00.000+02:002019-01-29T18:39:25.156+02:00One week from surgery and we are back to almost normal! Which means no sleeping...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEist2fVYb19nWYJ9iVD_qwxTdFB8kwQdOfD8vUBFmtH2yT-J0CV7Qk5rhgX3wXpMchhhVtZoXXoMFBk1-1cwmPbw6mrV8Ps-WLJV5dQscKO-Clfsf_kaOT73alQRGoemJBguwLmj0QRfN8/s1600/IMG_3968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEist2fVYb19nWYJ9iVD_qwxTdFB8kwQdOfD8vUBFmtH2yT-J0CV7Qk5rhgX3wXpMchhhVtZoXXoMFBk1-1cwmPbw6mrV8Ps-WLJV5dQscKO-Clfsf_kaOT73alQRGoemJBguwLmj0QRfN8/s400/IMG_3968.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These bandages and pajamas - far behind us now!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Upon our discharge from the hospital the doctor gave mommy and daddy very explicit instructions:<br />
<br />
<i>"He (meaning me) can do anything he wants."</i><br />
<br />
Ok so let me get this straight. I just came out from under the knife. My heart was stopped, cut open and repaired, placed back and made to beat again. But I can do whatever I want to do.<br />
<br />
<i>"If he has shortness of breath, he should stop whatever activity he is engaging in."</i><br />
<br />
And then there's the issue of that red/pink line down my chest.<br />
<br />
<i>"Wash the scar every day. If you see any discharge, or if it looks infected come to the emergency room."</i><br />
<br />
Ok, so what about school?<br />
<br />
<i>"Oh, that? No way. He needs to get permission from the surgeon first. Schedule an appointment to see him in a few weeks."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Ok, so again, let's get this straight: I can run, climb, be a general monkey and do "whatever I want/am able to do" but just don't go to school where I will be sitting for eight hours straight "resting" (except for my brain) rather than going stir crazy at home or climbing the walls there.<br />
<br />
Perhaps that is because of infections and colds, but still. Let's not exaggerate.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless as I embark upon my journey of recovery we sit here a week later in shock and awe. I occasionally need pain medication, but rarely. I've stopped pointing at my chest and walking slightly stooped as I did those first few days. I've even stopped sleeping because, what with a a super-powered heart and all, I don't need as much rest as I did before.<br />
<br />
Rest? Wait, I've never actually been one to sleep much anyway. I am on true hospital lag, meaning just a few hours hours of sleep can launch me through a long day with ease. Which really means that I am back to my pre-op self!<br />
<br />
So physically I am charging ahead. Each day I look less and less like a human who has gone through surgery.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfz4g65ICLZwi2jNs6mUJBOexF9d_9ilHNM4TkE1_8HKiVfiVDM-C7GakG3sKU6PIVDc-4U6_ycOtQmpd2AYDocOLey6hs34nAsoKoe4iQGO0cDKXICFjIUcfx0Tgd3zsPZiog6QdZJlE/s1600/591C4ACB-B5E3-4367-8780-D07AD011A384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfz4g65ICLZwi2jNs6mUJBOexF9d_9ilHNM4TkE1_8HKiVfiVDM-C7GakG3sKU6PIVDc-4U6_ycOtQmpd2AYDocOLey6hs34nAsoKoe4iQGO0cDKXICFjIUcfx0Tgd3zsPZiog6QdZJlE/s400/591C4ACB-B5E3-4367-8780-D07AD011A384.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can navigate the iPad as expertly as I did before the op!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Admittedly, I am a bit traumatized by the scars that are healing on my chest. They are a stark reminder that I really did freak everyone out, including myself, a week ago with record levels of stress in preparation for surgery.<br />
<br />
Basically, if you saw me today you would think I were lying about OHS. You would think it was all a ploy to get your attention. The drama was intense and short lived and we never reached our worse expectations in terms of potential complications and time in the hospital. Now, as we come down from the adrenaline that propelled us through those days, it's hard to believe it ever happened.<br />
<br />
And from looking at me today, sans the scar, you would't believe it either. <br />
<br />
<i>I must thank you all for your prayers. With God's help I have powered through this sordid tale and am ready to surge on!</i><br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-37203548857116729002019-01-25T12:53:00.000+02:002019-01-25T12:53:28.853+02:00And on the third day, I went home already!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqAJhDHqC8pjqyUWIWW89Sc6_swHdCek0Sjm_u_THqtLKy3NRAw5BjVJmSqNA1z4F-_wtSUdb5dNWOJFKfxVhzEy-Q7_YHBRcBYOMpbEkCSfQGHSryZIiLycFlSLfBtZT-Rt9GoN36os/s1600/IMG_0896.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqAJhDHqC8pjqyUWIWW89Sc6_swHdCek0Sjm_u_THqtLKy3NRAw5BjVJmSqNA1z4F-_wtSUdb5dNWOJFKfxVhzEy-Q7_YHBRcBYOMpbEkCSfQGHSryZIiLycFlSLfBtZT-Rt9GoN36os/s400/IMG_0896.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
And now for the most shocking news of the week:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"And on the third day, they sent me home."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The (other) book of Daniel chapter 8 verse 8</i></div>
<br />
Not 72 hours after my chest was slit open, my sternum broken and my heart stopped for some vital repairs, I'm walking back home on my own two feet with very few restrictions applied to my life.<br />
<br />
It's a bit unbelievable, if not unnerving. With a fresh scar and still clutching my chest (whether in drama or in pain I have yet to reveal), I was released into the feeble care of my non-medical professional parents. They felt the same way after my dramatic birth and then after my first OHS and then after being hospitalized for RSV and later pneumonia and when they took home a flammable oxygen tank for me to sleep with over night. Who would release a child like this into the care of his mere parents? I would not.<br />
<br />
But mommy and abba have been down this road before when mommy regrets not having gone into medicine.<br />
<br />
The truth is that once we left the ICU we probably could've snuck out of the hospital for several hours perhaps to the zoo or a park and no one would've noticed. There was not really much observation going on in the regular ward. Suddenly mommy and abba were full-fledged nurses who had to ask for and administer my own medicine and were left to wonder whether I was showing normal signs of pain or the kind of pain that indicated CODE RED.<br />
<br />
On the positive side, at home we will be free of crying babies and beeping monitors. We will not be bored out of our minds. But then again, mommy and abba will not sleep anyway since they'll have to use the non-technological methods of checking my vitals, like feeling for a pulse, etc.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9K4kdGnbXbtpuEEY6MjU9XQqdN4ahbCQhEDL1cFTh18zM_Sc35MzFenI_r8q6PcnvBTxqgMRpMs6XcGkHuNTk3yK-023926a_yXdsaxc2zE-QIcCK2DfhAoGYvi3_aPdyAQRK0vEtT4/s1600/IMG_0881.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9K4kdGnbXbtpuEEY6MjU9XQqdN4ahbCQhEDL1cFTh18zM_Sc35MzFenI_r8q6PcnvBTxqgMRpMs6XcGkHuNTk3yK-023926a_yXdsaxc2zE-QIcCK2DfhAoGYvi3_aPdyAQRK0vEtT4/s400/IMG_0881.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On another positive note, at the ICU we took some<br />paparazzi photos with head nurse <a href="http://paddingtonbear.wikia.com/wiki/Knuckles_McGinty" target="_blank">Knuckles McGinty</a>!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQ63uVHhDyUtC1ivA3mIzxTdDgOIxR0d6nLzkUauU2mENhL535CAoIV89mmdrnOWHvtobvC3NhROeQY03GPLqXNG5ICx6Vg82nLJev67I7HmZTpe-hFBiC6VRZX-Vq8P-1He-bAMXfbU/s1600/IMG_0873.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQ63uVHhDyUtC1ivA3mIzxTdDgOIxR0d6nLzkUauU2mENhL535CAoIV89mmdrnOWHvtobvC3NhROeQY03GPLqXNG5ICx6Vg82nLJev67I7HmZTpe-hFBiC6VRZX-Vq8P-1He-bAMXfbU/s400/IMG_0873.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The key to a quick recovery is to relax at the <br />ICU like it's a day at the beach!<br />(P.S. That blood collector attached to my body <br />is translated from Hebrew as: <i>grenade!</i>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWqrEJFoKNH33Efr8_k3Oqxn5PnEe_Epq93zi9ZKf_awhRNY3N_E1W_wlhPvDvcuqEGbCRja6k1G8Jck4_StZR-tM72RUJJx_GDuIu2SI5W6OdTBMRhHpau0QmRawPBnpfsLwWECk9TM/s1600/IMG_0890.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWqrEJFoKNH33Efr8_k3Oqxn5PnEe_Epq93zi9ZKf_awhRNY3N_E1W_wlhPvDvcuqEGbCRja6k1G8Jck4_StZR-tM72RUJJx_GDuIu2SI5W6OdTBMRhHpau0QmRawPBnpfsLwWECk9TM/s400/IMG_0890.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the above picture to this one in 36 hours!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Theme song of the day:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/k-ImCpNqbJw/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/k-ImCpNqbJw?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com132tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-73267867246709011212019-01-23T18:04:00.001+02:002019-01-23T18:13:12.828+02:00Taking my recovery in strides ...literally<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQbHY1mt8nP7GtztqtJBOaHq6xps-2jyQQJOaHhOkWQSKenU1E11e7Tf4A1BIT3jgy4Vnfu728W7ugBLmyYj0bb8bB2oGFfygSONx6v0tv4nJx_pygQl63dwodoi4uC1B_Lzed8CwMflo/s1600/IMG_3960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQbHY1mt8nP7GtztqtJBOaHq6xps-2jyQQJOaHhOkWQSKenU1E11e7Tf4A1BIT3jgy4Vnfu728W7ugBLmyYj0bb8bB2oGFfygSONx6v0tv4nJx_pygQl63dwodoi4uC1B_Lzed8CwMflo/s400/IMG_3960.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rolling onto bigger and better things (or hospital wards)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I guess you could say I make OHS look easy.<br />
<br />
Just 24 hours out from under the knife they were signing my release papers from the ICU, moving me to the regular surgical ward and encouraging me to Rise Up and Walk!<br />
<br />
You have got to be kidding me. Twenty four hours after open heart surgery.<br />
<br />
That was a tad mystifying to me as all I wanted to do was continue my drug-induced repose, but surely I will start utilizing these newfound suggestions to walk ... at midnight when my parents are trying to sleep.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhSKVbhUFDPr3nFPk9f1_oHnbXMKPY2F_G4a835z6VC3IxxY_eQ1utbEmOg1QbxWk2tnNYNV5MFvJopBhuLtTgMfUsqAc4cQL8kH8a_qlCK8Q5fxdcTCthMZfqWgjFv3z5x0GdfnX_qM/s1600/IMG_3962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhSKVbhUFDPr3nFPk9f1_oHnbXMKPY2F_G4a835z6VC3IxxY_eQ1utbEmOg1QbxWk2tnNYNV5MFvJopBhuLtTgMfUsqAc4cQL8kH8a_qlCK8Q5fxdcTCthMZfqWgjFv3z5x0GdfnX_qM/s400/IMG_3962.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Accompanied by my entourage as I leave the ICU behind.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In an effort to facilitate my swift exit from the ICU the doctors embarked upon a morphine induced removal of all my tubes and wires, something I was already trying to do since apparently RIGHT AFTER THE OPERATION. Being a child who doesn't need to sleep, ever, one surgeon reported that I woke up while still in the operating room and embarked upon a furious raid against those protrusions! I was immediately re-sedated and brought to ICU where I did a repeat performance just an hour later.<br />
<br />
I am a warrior.<br />
<br />
This time the doctors decided to do the removal themselves. I tried to help them by yanking quicker and faster, but they all agreed that was counterproductive. So with a little burst of morphine and some sort of relaxant I went limp and I stopped helping them. It took 15 minutes to unthread the wires coming from my heart, my neck, my sternum, my side and more. And with that I was ready for evacuation.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA1DxrDizMZ_wpEbl8J_O2Plr_U-6ZawTP3nAJZrVNbyxi86aZGCtYIBk-tOQgEPubbhrPTa43sLQjJUzz7dBKeFHikRnODIrw3thXl04oudOaw1BBtXBBhS4mlYqca1NxUmM8Wm5_TY/s1600/6E04539F-A303-48D6-81C7-355BF12A3767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA1DxrDizMZ_wpEbl8J_O2Plr_U-6ZawTP3nAJZrVNbyxi86aZGCtYIBk-tOQgEPubbhrPTa43sLQjJUzz7dBKeFHikRnODIrw3thXl04oudOaw1BBtXBBhS4mlYqca1NxUmM8Wm5_TY/s400/6E04539F-A303-48D6-81C7-355BF12A3767.JPG" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More than twice this amount of tubing <br />
and wires was in my body.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today was really a day of progress. A day to show the world the superpowers that we babies possess even as children. Our ability to bounce back astonishes the normal adult brain. There is even talk of releasing me tomorrow in order to set a world record! (Unverified) But most likely I will remain here for the weekend.<br />
<br />
And then maybe I'll go run a marathon. That seems like the next logical step.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHANVOiZAsgj4-b2aebp05MBJTlHDM5EOnTjTZGVLN1WTZoiEhYOaduzrHaBoBLZ3f2HOREdluZGVUQ9z9kOCjduCHANY3fqYlB4YhLNh3jpXkGDsUErQb0Stoli1nfx-N7acc-SfDc54/s1600/PHOTO-2019-01-23-13-38-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHANVOiZAsgj4-b2aebp05MBJTlHDM5EOnTjTZGVLN1WTZoiEhYOaduzrHaBoBLZ3f2HOREdluZGVUQ9z9kOCjduCHANY3fqYlB4YhLNh3jpXkGDsUErQb0Stoli1nfx-N7acc-SfDc54/s400/PHOTO-2019-01-23-13-38-01.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These guys miss me. And I likewise.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-60031586577765574692019-01-22T20:48:00.004+02:002019-01-22T21:15:21.045+02:00And now the Post-Drama begins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnLdVv1saR1qNVuaWsf2HBxNpUBdoMPCpy8W_MVQRX1cDuwuluXzLYc-2XHPoTppjpM2lWIRlYrr1KzsbG5xRXMeIEgltnR6MPUnFtXnG0qBRrBBbqCFdHalR4_Z9jbVHwmxwPD-k5rM/s1600/IMG_7015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnLdVv1saR1qNVuaWsf2HBxNpUBdoMPCpy8W_MVQRX1cDuwuluXzLYc-2XHPoTppjpM2lWIRlYrr1KzsbG5xRXMeIEgltnR6MPUnFtXnG0qBRrBBbqCFdHalR4_Z9jbVHwmxwPD-k5rM/s400/IMG_7015.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool, calm and collected. Pre-surgery. This did not last long.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And after a "short" and successful surgery I am doing exactly what my parents warned all the doctors I would do upon waking without rampant anesthesia running through my veins: Trying like HELL to pull out every single one of those 2,000 tubes.<br />
<br />
Oh yea, and now the real games begin. The waiting. The monitoring of the monitors. The recovery. The breathing, or not. Me extubating myself (okay, I did not really do that, but I did pull out some horrifically fat tube from my nose), trying to rip out the newly sewn stitches on my chest. Things like that which tend to freak out parents worldwide.<br />
<br />
Then there's the up and down of the O2 saturation. The fever that creeps up (in Celsius no less which is no help to mommy). All the little tremors that blip across my computer screens which the doctors tell my parents are irrelevant or are "lying" due to whatever else is happening that it must be measured by. So why are they there? No answer. Comforting.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGvKYcW-89nDhv2h-xtlUbCoLybYMO3d4Wm7VsYQ-JkwbBb5lf2zvVV1H__V3-u_WUCtSNStwz3_oX_qldfUBiupJV18vW6FIKSojf3qQ1i3gHbNyWhiSiXfZJY9Q_QzNUwZuiScMkV7o/s1600/IMG_7016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGvKYcW-89nDhv2h-xtlUbCoLybYMO3d4Wm7VsYQ-JkwbBb5lf2zvVV1H__V3-u_WUCtSNStwz3_oX_qldfUBiupJV18vW6FIKSojf3qQ1i3gHbNyWhiSiXfZJY9Q_QzNUwZuiScMkV7o/s400/IMG_7016.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddington made an appearance at the hospital! Which is largely ironic <br />
since one of the nurses here looks like <a href="http://paddingtonbear.wikia.com/wiki/Knuckles_McGinty" target="_blank">Knuckles</a> from Paddington 2!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Waiting outside the operating room was a heck of a lot easier for my parents. It meant I was down under and I was in good hands. The repair was done well and I'm ready to surge again with blood flowing unchecked through my aortic valve.<br />
<br />
I'm still in good hands with a crack ICU team around me. But the anesthesia is all done now which has created a dramatically less calm picture.<br />
<br />
Here's how it went down. I woke up an hour after the OHS. I sat up in wild shock and horror and began thrashing around my bed. Eyes still sealed shut from exhaustion and a mouth full of dried blood, I was surely in some type of Gehenna. After wildly flinging off leads and swiveling around the bed, the team here heeded mommy and abba's suggestions of sedation. It seemed to benefit all parties.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAxjVa61y5mY-fBtanLvh5gIEasQQUaTsLMfKn_qAOtG1h7nu16a_u_ycZA0c9en6K3Al4g5UIcY2daKWh4DONtP6gI8q2Xu-lmef0z416lkz6zBMNlJNHHA-3y7LsVv754J7CN7ER6M/s1600/IMG_7017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAxjVa61y5mY-fBtanLvh5gIEasQQUaTsLMfKn_qAOtG1h7nu16a_u_ycZA0c9en6K3Al4g5UIcY2daKWh4DONtP6gI8q2Xu-lmef0z416lkz6zBMNlJNHHA-3y7LsVv754J7CN7ER6M/s320/IMG_7017.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actually, pre-op was clearly fun and easy going as you can see.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And so I remain, under the influence. Occasionally I flutter my eyes with a gasping whine, looking for familiar faces. I threaten to thrash and then, after receiving reassurances that all is well, I drift back to sleep. I believe this will be my situation for a few more hours.<br />
<br />
The truth is that all these little ups and downs probably mean nothing in the long run, but because my parents watch too much TV and because they are very bored right now just watching my drain pipes and IV drips, they choose to panic over every little beep.<br />
<br />
They call it vigilance! Or, parenting.<br />
<br />
And all will be well.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvuUlEx_5zAyVMmMrFiyfUqwCXILSes7ypPw4KHaSxAGIjDtu-dAzycQp6h34dc_Tcpo1mUDlEUkyi4X_NG1N_lkBIDgspsIq0qpCKWcnGfiMwmyogRDnLq6z51O1UYvICWp_hamGtNk/s1600/IMG_7018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="769" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvuUlEx_5zAyVMmMrFiyfUqwCXILSes7ypPw4KHaSxAGIjDtu-dAzycQp6h34dc_Tcpo1mUDlEUkyi4X_NG1N_lkBIDgspsIq0qpCKWcnGfiMwmyogRDnLq6z51O1UYvICWp_hamGtNk/s320/IMG_7018.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I was feeling the love!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-38976977049757899042019-01-21T22:30:00.003+02:002019-01-22T09:00:58.926+02:00On our way, Round 2 commences<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Psalm 121:1</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkqGv9lgMQIUUgKMHAqgNYFW_b1p62DVXSYvuhGVOstsJMwtrpWFTtGo6d6Ceuto04jg3gcwzMsOIUPnjbdA9p7Yg20PQuZjzqBwZ4oiDMlqGvesiIvGPlfZ9XNUC39G9AjLBZDllvGo/s1600/A12BEE2B-D25B-4839-8529-DC3403BBAF7B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkqGv9lgMQIUUgKMHAqgNYFW_b1p62DVXSYvuhGVOstsJMwtrpWFTtGo6d6Ceuto04jg3gcwzMsOIUPnjbdA9p7Yg20PQuZjzqBwZ4oiDMlqGvesiIvGPlfZ9XNUC39G9AjLBZDllvGo/s400/A12BEE2B-D25B-4839-8529-DC3403BBAF7B.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only a champ gives thumbs up on his way to surgery!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RylK1aKFHNQ414WAcu1HyLq4ECFX1lubtU-TyvWEupb4t9aPG-efv_sKh8YoMCQbNuhfLB5GLPWSqh_ECzloPlzHPYnV0XOjONQ13mAnHryQVV5b_bSkIDAlFM6fDSd3ZQbQ68E-P8g/s1600/IMG_7001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RylK1aKFHNQ414WAcu1HyLq4ECFX1lubtU-TyvWEupb4t9aPG-efv_sKh8YoMCQbNuhfLB5GLPWSqh_ECzloPlzHPYnV0XOjONQ13mAnHryQVV5b_bSkIDAlFM6fDSd3ZQbQ68E-P8g/s400/IMG_7001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">My teammates rooting for and praying for me before the big day</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<br />
It's one of the stranger things in life to walk into a hospital on your own two healthy feet, showing no signs of distress and saying, here I am, open me up and stop my heart for awhile! I’d almost rather be rushing there with an emergency to justify the scope of it.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, mommy spoke with a most reassuring doctor who gave an astute second opinion: Barring any miracle that had gone on in my chest cavity, the surgery will help me in all sorts of ways, relieving both the heart muscle and the high blood pressure going on inside my heart. So may as well go ahead with it now. The sooner the better in order to avoid long-term damage.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyl3EfpV7h7gKAuAC8ZFvMfxPITpgVbk6zLfIGh_fmD7zL1GnEzzi4aHG9i9_X32wXIgtyiNP1XTRuIhktqp2p66qweCU9ct_o4wXHc7IIt8X2UaAa6CM3KaZbhs5noHsffExQDY_1Mbo/s1600/IMG_7003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyl3EfpV7h7gKAuAC8ZFvMfxPITpgVbk6zLfIGh_fmD7zL1GnEzzi4aHG9i9_X32wXIgtyiNP1XTRuIhktqp2p66qweCU9ct_o4wXHc7IIt8X2UaAa6CM3KaZbhs5noHsffExQDY_1Mbo/s320/IMG_7003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hugs are helpful like prayers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-r37SNwnD9ssOjVcGsIt0dsb3Ptfwk3Owdz29MiKSG8VdNMxMiHjTymSdkQeMmDGH96NA_VOScKU-rGPSdn2LOKLMxyigykXEA7DVkOjS702mmJcKPVJ1dTrFL_1BMbc_-n3pB51rik/s1600/91F5C915-8C26-4FB1-9D68-03DEA79C5CC5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-r37SNwnD9ssOjVcGsIt0dsb3Ptfwk3Owdz29MiKSG8VdNMxMiHjTymSdkQeMmDGH96NA_VOScKU-rGPSdn2LOKLMxyigykXEA7DVkOjS702mmJcKPVJ1dTrFL_1BMbc_-n3pB51rik/s320/91F5C915-8C26-4FB1-9D68-03DEA79C5CC5.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Relaxed and ready for what lies ahead</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I last did this I was also healthy going in, except I wasn't walking on my own feet yet: I was carried in as a wee 8-month-old baby. Now things will be a little different. Because now my own feet do carry me, and they don't go where they don't want to go.<br />
<br />
Let's switch that to a positive: My feet go only where they want. And I'm not much of a follower.<br />
<br />
So it will certainly be interesting to what my feet decide to do this morning: lie docilely in the hospital bed or buck like a bronco in protest to the absurdity of it all?<br />
<br />
Despite my best resistance, I am sure of one thing. I know where my help comes from. And the truth is that this morning I went in well and easily. I was possessed by a rare and deep inner peace. And many smiles, mainly to dazzle the staff at the OR.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"My help comes from the Lord,<span style="text-align: center;"> the Maker of heaven and earth."</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Psalm 121:2</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/n_aVFVveJNs/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/n_aVFVveJNs?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/lT9K5xW2gDg/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lT9K5xW2gDg?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Same as above but for you, Yasmin)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJl8HxPbYySV_1udtbE2zM4n4BO6LuSzBBBo348Psh-tJaCBkTlGSt5l0_Wa4Ip6gws6hgN_hFjC1MnVwt1-kRobEazUEF-vnqShWXxQ0kVqjg1NK2aWQ50DmXSnuXqXGcjjjEWtejtIw/s1600/IMG_7006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJl8HxPbYySV_1udtbE2zM4n4BO6LuSzBBBo348Psh-tJaCBkTlGSt5l0_Wa4Ip6gws6hgN_hFjC1MnVwt1-kRobEazUEF-vnqShWXxQ0kVqjg1NK2aWQ50DmXSnuXqXGcjjjEWtejtIw/s400/IMG_7006.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I prayed for them too. After all, they will miss me for a few days</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/KIkSuarvyH8/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KIkSuarvyH8?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-10721210666385271112019-01-21T09:45:00.003+02:002019-01-21T09:45:53.086+02:00Matters of the Heart Revisited...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitonhrU_W8piJlSggxhu-7PRN9miTLu2dAJVM5XZ0oGKQcLxTUdLUPtZNxNv5lGRHws-4_J0AfCTqc6AELDfL2WUTHejgx4yEVRMLjWpDUxRmSeXY3d7Gfg16rR27tRKE6IBdw2sSWcR8/s1600/daniel_surgeryday5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitonhrU_W8piJlSggxhu-7PRN9miTLu2dAJVM5XZ0oGKQcLxTUdLUPtZNxNv5lGRHws-4_J0AfCTqc6AELDfL2WUTHejgx4yEVRMLjWpDUxRmSeXY3d7Gfg16rR27tRKE6IBdw2sSWcR8/s1600/daniel_surgeryday5.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
I am still scarred from my first surgery.<br />
<br />
Oh no, I'm not talking trauma. I was only 8 months old back then.<br />
<br />
Oh wait, you're thinking of the long line down my chest? No, not that, although yes, it is still there.<br />
<br />
What I meant was the scar on my face from when my unruly fingernails pulled out one of those tubes -- and took out a chunk of my cheek as well. Yes, permanently scarred.<br />
<br />
<i>(Mommy: note to self, trim Daniel's nails before surgery. Cut his hair while he's sedated. Life is good.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Back then, OHS was much easier despite the fact that the actual procedure itself was way more complicated - a six-hour expedition. But back then there were no other children to worry about (save for Lucas who was an unknown and microscopic presence at the time). Back then, aside from being really cute I was also immobile. And I was probably less impressionable and a tad less independent. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZjaL0h7hw_R9cifWZmvy9P5wKHe8ozd1dT1HGO0UhiiRPLCtt3G6vr4w9C2RVBg_O-081dG8JJ3CARTd6uQSwsVfFBzMOJBmc6B-l4Qa2YV1lT2rgQ9m5XbZ8hdLKqxsX8hi-ABSlwE/s1600/daniel_day4_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZjaL0h7hw_R9cifWZmvy9P5wKHe8ozd1dT1HGO0UhiiRPLCtt3G6vr4w9C2RVBg_O-081dG8JJ3CARTd6uQSwsVfFBzMOJBmc6B-l4Qa2YV1lT2rgQ9m5XbZ8hdLKqxsX8hi-ABSlwE/s1600/daniel_day4_3.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
Here are some of those memories as we relive:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thebabyblogsbydaniel.com/2011/04/pre-op-day.html" target="_blank">Pre-op Day</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thebabyblogsbydaniel.com/2011/05/more-daniel-updates.html" target="_blank">Update</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thebabyblogsbydaniel.com/2011/05/making-up-for-lost-time-and-lattes.html" target="_blank">ICU</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5gdCCA6CawScBXwfgx1qVb9EVsDVbduFrF0I2cjoUdFmxa5wHJTiet1kxdrEc906OGj4LAOG27wy8xYcL3kRBj7eJYb4hQsCT9PK8bZBagW-Z_m9Xa5wYXRIzFyN0LfQ8Vh2kwPj7s0/s1600/daniel_surgeryday6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5gdCCA6CawScBXwfgx1qVb9EVsDVbduFrF0I2cjoUdFmxa5wHJTiet1kxdrEc906OGj4LAOG27wy8xYcL3kRBj7eJYb4hQsCT9PK8bZBagW-Z_m9Xa5wYXRIzFyN0LfQ8Vh2kwPj7s0/s1600/daniel_surgeryday6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.thebabyblogsbydaniel.com/2011/05/reunited-and-it-feels-so-good.html" target="_blank">Moving into the regular ward</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thebabyblogsbydaniel.com/2011/05/happy-mothers-day.html" target="_blank">Welcome home!</a> (Don't miss the video which oozes cuteness)<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-58386549310416155392019-01-16T14:01:00.000+02:002019-01-18T18:12:26.390+02:00Sibling Q&A before the 'big day'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0DT7QgWR5ltdT3MYnAmLYe2rifl1eZz9n2MBKcOkm0Mj9qO7vQaSzO60I49CzLCpPbEXq79Txr68kMxsUIaQNXfeu6YGBbYd640Qt17-cEtLOUjQdgvW0qMsmajkoWBIX51YyewvbsL4/s1600/ED1904DF-26E0-4496-86DB-A936A46E4A35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0DT7QgWR5ltdT3MYnAmLYe2rifl1eZz9n2MBKcOkm0Mj9qO7vQaSzO60I49CzLCpPbEXq79Txr68kMxsUIaQNXfeu6YGBbYd640Qt17-cEtLOUjQdgvW0qMsmajkoWBIX51YyewvbsL4/s400/ED1904DF-26E0-4496-86DB-A936A46E4A35.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some take us for triplets which is very <br />
insulting if you ask me, three years <br />
older than the tall and slender Raia.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Heart to heart (no pun intended, really) with my siblings about the impending "S" word a few weeks ago:</i><br />
<br />
Parents: We have some news for you. Daniel needs to undergo open heart surgery.<br />
<br />
<i>Shock and rare silence.</i><br />
<br />
Lucas: Who is going to do it?<br />
<br />
Parents: A very good, experienced and reputable surgeon.<br />
<br />
Lucas: Has he done this before?<br />
<br />
Parents: Yes, thousands of times. In fact he was Daniel's (and his friends') surgeon eight years ago!<br />
<br />
Lucas: Did anything bad ever happen in any of his surgeries?<br />
<br />
Parents: No, never! Perfect record!! <i>(Unverified, but quick comeback!)</i><br />
<br />
<i>Pause. Daniel goes over and hugs Lucas. Embrace lasts about three minutes while Raia sits in stone cold shock and silence. Questions ensue which lead to explanation: scar tissue, blocking aortic valve, etc. </i><br />
<br />
Parents: So, as the surgeon said, thank God it's possible to fix problems like this these days. You can't live with these problems, so we are grateful it can be fixed. Right?<br />
<br />
Lucas (onto the next issue): Okay so where exactly is the membrane: in the heart or outside? In fact, let's break out the model heart and figure out this whole conundrum.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1hNGG9dwluFEtE-A8IAoeR08fypSWAoLMQXo-9Iq2tRj8fZEAXh-uu1PYmt7JOw1ZZVlA4xSWTNh51oMZUBQpmom0w1ug6YJ_iti8JigJFaMqbkBkhcH6-__-5dLai4SwGTSZGnC758/s1600/IMG_6871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1hNGG9dwluFEtE-A8IAoeR08fypSWAoLMQXo-9Iq2tRj8fZEAXh-uu1PYmt7JOw1ZZVlA4xSWTNh51oMZUBQpmom0w1ug6YJ_iti8JigJFaMqbkBkhcH6-__-5dLai4SwGTSZGnC758/s320/IMG_6871.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The three amigos (sometimes stooges) <br />
are hard to separate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i><br /></i><i>Which we do, in addition to viewing several episodes of <a href="https://kidshealth.org/en/kids/body.html" target="_blank">Chloe and the Nurb</a>, and entire session - intended to guide siblings through a tough and neglectful upcoming few weeks - turns into a science lesson. </i><br />
<br />
<i>Two weeks later at bed time.</i><br />
<br />
Raia (as sulk descends upon her face): I'm scared.<br />
<br />
Parents (rolling their eyes awaiting the stall-tactic excuses): Why are you scared this time?<br />
<br />
Raia: That Daniel has to have surgery.<br />
<br />
:(<br />
<br />
<i>And thus was Raia's first and last mention of the impeding procedure, proving that despite the silence, her apparent disinterest was a ruse. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6304506922631724411.post-27835887628965899372019-01-14T21:45:00.001+02:002019-01-14T21:51:42.259+02:00Save the Date... and start praying! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDk5LM17sXyoWp5l8ZabSPtQAx26DNfX4EUCWfAFcTfDRt6Q_FwmJ2nSWKMKYYpPUui6HifCHMzpTsQAhcT14EUPzcfuK6oHPFVx7xw04iFuipLExj00Xh756J92xDNZTtXUmAhbzGO0/s1600/3C2F77A3-3F63-4420-9686-03DC389E2F01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicDk5LM17sXyoWp5l8ZabSPtQAx26DNfX4EUCWfAFcTfDRt6Q_FwmJ2nSWKMKYYpPUui6HifCHMzpTsQAhcT14EUPzcfuK6oHPFVx7xw04iFuipLExj00Xh756J92xDNZTtXUmAhbzGO0/s400/3C2F77A3-3F63-4420-9686-03DC389E2F01.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It was New Year's Day and we found ourselves dining in the quaint neighborhood of Ein Karem gazing at the sun drenched view of staggered green hills.<br />
<br />
And a hospital.<br />
<br />
Yes a hospital. How ironic that <i>the</i> hospital towered into our sights on the first day of the year. Just to help us set our agenda for the coming weeks. Just to loom over us like a dark shadow reminding us that, now that the holidays are behind us, it's time to get serious.<br />
<br />
Serious about what, you may ask. How to say this? Kind of like, how you pick a date for surgery when the surgeon asks you for one? Is it like picking a coffee date: You want to meet up for coffee on Monday? Sure! Would you like to come for open heart surgery next Tuesday? Yes, why not?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBj9dHdCTEy4aisXXFB8MYsQzWSmG17AiGfDyHgHPvg26yAFSSeCaJBIbxHEjNm_vZfJN34CJHBR7apFCVgXgepqQmAHwmvux2KHkZ9AQPGAWBGVq070Bv8pcPmYhKx4qWYCOh0Z-1C9Q/s1600/AFD0D3BE-EF31-402A-8520-0364E87C3F8A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBj9dHdCTEy4aisXXFB8MYsQzWSmG17AiGfDyHgHPvg26yAFSSeCaJBIbxHEjNm_vZfJN34CJHBR7apFCVgXgepqQmAHwmvux2KHkZ9AQPGAWBGVq070Bv8pcPmYhKx4qWYCOh0Z-1C9Q/s400/AFD0D3BE-EF31-402A-8520-0364E87C3F8A.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">Here's me drinking up the holiday flavors<br />
(hot apple cider)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So that is what has become our fate and now that we've stealthily avoided the issue since that fateful appointment in November, it's time to start dealing with reality. And so all of a sudden when I can count on one hand the days I have left in school until D-Day, I better start getting ready.<br />
<br />
It all began in November when I went for my routine heart check up that turned out to be not so routine. After a long and boring wait a technician spent way too much time boring me some more with her magic wand of the ultrasound. That was followed by another test of my patience and the iPhone's battery waiting for the cardiologist himself to review the results. Then he decided he too would wave the wand again over my fluttering and bored heart while we waited to hear that everything was A-okay and we could forget booking another appointment for a year.<br />
<br />
Those were not the words we heard however. In fact, we heard words about booking appointment for other such things like, gulp. surgery.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjhk-HJ2PxYHEfJByPCSVZZq1VYhyphenhyphenXMZRI7WaPSfhaDdGTmCkOGnXaK5HV4sIarOB_XQtzyDKzVrt64qyQHevJlNKavjRwJrDqwj5oCWLTXcdzxWda_OW9H2EnG0rhLhWGFYS0CLxhJk/s1600/E63E4E28-616E-4D12-8BFA-59CE3E43A311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjhk-HJ2PxYHEfJByPCSVZZq1VYhyphenhyphenXMZRI7WaPSfhaDdGTmCkOGnXaK5HV4sIarOB_XQtzyDKzVrt64qyQHevJlNKavjRwJrDqwj5oCWLTXcdzxWda_OW9H2EnG0rhLhWGFYS0CLxhJk/s400/E63E4E28-616E-4D12-8BFA-59CE3E43A311.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
See, when I was 8 months old and I underwent open heart surgery to basically build the walls of my heart (Complete AV Canal defect), the surgeon told mommy and daddy there was a 10 percent chance they'd have to revisit this scenario for some sort of repair. And now at 8 years old, that 10 percent equals 100 percent in the realm of Babies'/Murphy's Law.<br />
<br />
Since that first surgery I've seen a cardiologist for follow up every six to 12 months (except for that time when my parents missed a year) just to make sure I was ticking well. Two and a half years ago there arose a cause for concern and that cause has increased since then. Dramatically since the March checkup.<br />
<br />
If you want to get technical, the official diagnosis is aortic valve stenosis. And if you want to just be practical, it simply means that something (like scar tissue or a membrane) has been steadily increasing in size for the last few years and is now blocking the blood flow and driving up blood pressure to almost dangerous levels.<br />
<br />
So we are doing a sort of repeat performance. Same hospital, same surgeon.<br />
<br />
Save the date: January 22*<br />
<br />
<i>*The information in this blog is not meant to be used for diagnostic purposes since this was composed by a non-medical professional Nor should the dates be written in ink as surgery can be postponed in case a bigger emergency than mine arises!</i></div>
Daniel Jansezianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18028513592536866873noreply@blogger.com9