Extremes

It has been close to a year since my conversation with Connie at my mom's memorial service.  We were standing upstairs in the Methodist church - talking about the kids when they were little and the nights that Megan would stay at her house when I had to take Patrick to his post-transplant 'check-ups'.  This was no ordinary trip to the doctor or the dialysis center.  We lived upstate and his transplant took place in Boston.  I hadn't even thought of getting his weekly checks locally - his doctors were in Boston and that is where we would go.

Dean was running the farm and Megan had to get to school on Monday morning. On Sunday evening, Little Dean would be shuttled to mom's for the night and Megs would pack her bag to head down to her friend Sarah's house.  It was like clock-work - worked into our agenda from May through July.  Weekly drives to Boston for his check-up were required and I did it the best I knew how.

'You always did everything so extreme..' was Connie's comment in the church that Saturday.  We talked for a long while but that is the only take-way I remember.  I can't exactly figure out if I choose it or if it is just who I am...but I have decided she is right.  Leaving our house at 2 am early on Monday morning - laying Patrick across the seat with his head on his pillow and his 'blankie' covering him - it didn't seem extreme...

Our schedule was fixed and it worked for us.  We would leave at 2 am on Monday morning - which ensured that we could drive the 300+ miles to Boston and be there for the first 8 am appointment.  Of course I figured in a half-hour nap in case I started to drift and carried a wind-up alarm clock that kept us on schedule.  We traveled straight south and then due east and I remember using landmarks as mile-stones on the trip.  The 8 am appointment was done by 9 and we would take a minute to visit our friends at Boston Children's.  On the road no later than 10 am, we were back at home in time for baths before dinner.  I did that for weeks...not willing to sacrifice the time together anymore than we had to.  The family settled into its routine and it worked for us.

It now seems extreme, unsafe, risky and I remember times when I would seem to 'wake-up' as I was driving.  We survived the commute and the visits evolved to every other week, to monthly and then quarterly.  He progressed and thrived... and as he felt better he was great company on our travels.

Sometimes life just requires you to just 'do it' - no thinking...no analysis... and the extreme becomes the normal.  I think that Patrick required me to be extreme - but he also brought out my best - my commitment to doing what was necessary and right.  Patrick's life would sculpt my journey -  and as I get ready for a 2-day  'work trip' to Europe this week booked solid with appointments - it just doesn't seem that extreme...