MSI Press Blog

  In 1980, I fell down a flight of stairs. The day started out normally enough. Breakfast over, Donnie departed for work, and school lunches prepared, the kids and I were ready to take on the day, as usual. Lizzie had skipped off to her fourth grade class a few blocks from home. Three-year-old Noelle, dressed in a pretty pink dress and her blond hair tied up into two ponytails   with matching pink ribbons was tucked away in the back of our orange Pacer, where she could sit comfortably with her legs stretched out. (Those were days before the invention of seat belts.) Two-year-old Shane was seated on the outside stairs, waiting for me to bring out Doah, in his carrier, along with his suction machine for his trach tube. Doah was on the sofa, next to his suction machine. Everything and everyone in place – except that Shane needed a pair of socks. I quickly scooted down the basement stairs in search of clean socks that should have been on top of the dryer. And the, oops, I slippe...

  Shane has always been a good self-advocate. Perhaps because he sees the world differently from others--as a matter of logic, which disconcerts those who would argue with him because they live in the larger illogical world. Fourth grade, fifth grade, seventh grade, eighth grade...nearly every year he had an opportunity not only to outthink his parents (that was a given) but also to outlogic his teachers.  Fourth grade was quite a year for him. He managed to frustrate his teacher on a regular basis. For example, he refused to do his homework, yet he would use math (algebra) to figure out how to lower our electric bill, and he would absorb himself in reading fiction typically assigned in high school and college classes. Though he was only 7 (remember, he began first grade at the age of 3), he considered his time valuable and did not to waste it on silliness or things he already knew. The teacher complained and complained and complained that her would not do his homework. I aske...

  Shane suffered from migraines for a few years. It might have been a lifelong problem, but he was able to nip it in the bud, thanks to my own experience with migraines. In 1980, I took a trip down the stairs -- on my back. Hurrying to get socks for Shane, who was ready for school, except for being sockless, I slipped and literally bounced down the stairs, hitting the edge of each, and ending up crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, on the cement floor. I felt myself becoming woozy. I was going to faint -- but I could not allow myself to do that. Doah was upstairs, alone, in his sit-up bed, trached. If his trach tube clogged, I had to be nearby to unclog it, or he would die. So, I pulled myself back up, on my stomach. I could not stand up. I called the ambulance and long story short, the doctors determined I had a T5 compression fracture. Nearly immediately I began to experience multi-day migraines. The doctor prescribed medication, but before I had a chance to take it, I had learn...