Category: Things I think you should know

My Infertility Story Part II – Cliché

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This post is part two of a follow up to an earlier post I wrote about at Self Magazine article on how isolating infertility can be. You may also want to read part one.  I was blessed to have a circle of friends who had experienced similar situations. NO ONE should feel alone in the infertility process. Part Threes will be the story of another woman who didn’t have that support.

Clichephoto © 2010 Tom Newby | more info (via: Wylio)We survived round one, and were rewarded with a beautiful, happy healthy daughter. Fast forward two and a half years. I was ready for a second child. My husband was happy with one, but willing to discuss making a sibling. I am an only child. I always wanted a sibling. I wanted my daughter to have someone to gang up on me with. We decided we’d try for a second, but as with the last time, there were limits to how much medical intervention we’d tolerate. In other words, no IUI or IVF for us.

About the same time, my husband managed to convince me that it would be a good idea to pack up everything we own, put it in storage and move in with his mom and her husband. We bought land from them to build a house and make a new life an hour and a half North of my support system. Stress + new doctors + limited privacy does not a pregnancy make.

I was still making frequent trips South for business commitments and to be with friends. During that time, we were actively trying with no success. My cycles felt as though they were random. I opted to switch my care to a practice nearer to our new home. I thought it would be easier to manage the daily ultra sounds without the hour and a half commute. Ultimately, the new doctor did confirm a clinical diagnosis of PCOS. We had a cause, but still no baby.

During this time, the other two women I’d been pregnant with the first time both conceived again. I was happy for them and they were both very gracious about sharing my pain at their news, but inside, I was frustrated and horribly jealous.

I was on Clomid for a total of 9 months without success and I was at the end of my rope. We had just moved into our new house and I was ready for a new beginning. My husband supported my decision to stop infertility treatments. I stopped taking Clomid. I gave up the mini-van in favor of a smaller car and I accepted a several work commitments and a major volunteer commitment.

The doctor wanted to try and get my cycles on track again. I refused birth control pills so he prescribed progesterone. The prescription said take once a day for the first ten days of the month. Since I hadn’t had a period in a almost two months, I thought he meant calendar month (as a way to be able to keep my dates straight). Turns out he meant cycle month. DUH. I was told to take a pregnancy test and when it came back negative to start taking the medication.

My husband left for work early in the morning. So I dragged my butt out of bed and peed on the stick. I hadn’t even turned the light on, but after I washed my hands, I picked up the test and thought I saw two lines in the faint morning light. I turned the light on and looked again. Oh My God, this can’t be real. I ran downstairs and said “Don’t leave!” and then flew back up stairs grabbing my glasses and a magnifying glass (you can’t be too sure about these things you know).

Son of a gun, there WERE two lines. As he walked into the bathroom I said, “I’m pregnant, is that ok?” He hugged me, laughed at me and said “It’s a little late for that isn’t it.” I had become a cliché. I stopped trying and got pregnant. It was hard to let go, but once I really let go, my dysfunctional body, to over.

Later that day, I called the OB practice and asked for a blood test to confirm the results. I was told that blood tests weren’t standard procedure. I explained that I was an infertility patient and that I wanted an HCG count. I wanted to insure that there was just one. It took some persuasion, in the form of my going and sitting in the waiting room until someone talked with me, and offering to pay for the blood test out of pocket if my insurance didn’t cover it (it did), but I finally got confirmation that there was only one fetus. Nine months later, Mim was born and our lives are all the richer for his presence.

Even with the distance, my circle of friends was crucial to my survival during the move, the trying and the subsequent pregnancy. I am confident we wouldn’t have had Mim if they hadn’t been around to cheer me on and pick me up. No one should have to go through infertility alone. Online support groups have grown in popularity since then and even face-to-face groups are being offered by infertility practices. If you are pursuing infertility treatments, please seek out a support network. I could mean faster, results.

Nashville Under Water

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When Hurricane Katrina slammed the Gulf Coast and Flooded New Orleans, my mother-in-law watched the news with rapt attention. She was strolling Bourbon Street with her husband and my nephew just days before the storm. Like everyone who watched, I ached for all those who were lost and chaos that ensued, but I didn’t have the personal connection.

The flooding in Nashville while on a slightly different scale, impacts me on a more personal level. I’ve been to Nashville three times. I was JUST there in the beginning of February for a conference at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel. Opryland is now under ten feet of water. The pictures and the news stories are jarring.

In 2003, I organized a trip for a group of Adults with Albinism. We stayed near Opryland and took a fabulous walking tour of Nashville, that included Centennial Park, Fort Nashboro and First Avenue. We ate dinner at the food court of Opry Mills and enjoyed a cruise down the Cumberland on the General Jackson Riverboat. All of these areas have been affected by the floods.

Photo Credit Just Malia from Justmalia.com

I’ve returned twice since for Blissdom, a wonderful blogging conference. This last time Blissdom was held at Opryland. When I said I was going to Opryland, people rolled their eyes. “Have a guhd time y’all” they said. Opryland has a reputation for being a touch over the top, but honestly, I think it was a great place to hold a conference. It is the epitome of Southern hospitality and the lush gardens were a welcome respite from the raw New England Winter. Opryland was a back drop for such a wonderful event in my recent memory, it is hard to see the stories of the destruction.

I also think of the people of Nashville and their loss. So far, nineteen deaths have been directly attributed to the flood, but not everyone has been accounted for. Then there are the material losses. Most people don’t have flood insurance and flood damage is NOT covered under regular homeowners policies. That means a huge burden during already tough economic times. What about all the businesses? All the products lost? Facilities damaged? There will be some businesses that will not recover from this catastrophe.

Nashville is coming in to their busiest season for tourism. The long term economic impact of the floods, remains to be seen. According to the Tennessean, Opryland is home to twelve percent of Nashville’s hotel rooms that generate approximately one fifth of Nashville’s hotel tax revenue. Ouch! The Gaylord team is doing its best to reschedule smaller events with other Nashville hotels, but Opryland is one of, if not the, largest facility in Nashville. There are some events that will have to be cancelled or moved to other cities. As a former event planner, that gives me a headache just thinking about it. Other groups with events that are relatively close, but still months away are in a holding pattern until the water recedes and officials have a chance to assess the damage.

All of this said, not ALL of Nashville is under water. The airport opened yesterday and only Opryland and one other smaller hotel (a Hampton Inn) are closed due to the flooding. The honky tonks and the clubs on Second Avenue are open for business. I guess they really have a lot to sing about now.

If you want to help, you can make a donation of the Red Cross Chapters of Middle Tennessee.

If you want to help long term, put a note on your calendar to check out Nashville mid-summer, and into the fall. I bet you’ll find some awesome deals to be had as tourism officials work to remind the world that Nashville survived the rising water.

A huge shout out to the Tennessean.com for truly excellent coverage of the floods. Information was readily available and well organized. It has to be hard to report on the destruction, but their team has done a great job.

Rosie, the Roomba

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I HATE to clean. It is a rare bird who likes to clean, but most people tolerate it and actually make an effort to do it regularly. Many people are bothered by dust bunnies, or sand crunching under foot. Me? I was born with the innate ability to completely ignore filth. It is only when the dust bunnies stand up and growl that I am moved to action.

A picture of my really dirty rug
I can't believe I'm showing you this.

Stop dialing the Health department, I’m not THAT bad, but I really don’t like to clean.

iRobot was a sponsor of Blissdom ‘10 so last month, I had the chance to see a Roomba in action. I’ve heard of Roomba before and I’ll be honest, I didn’t really think it worked. I don’t know why I thought that. It’s not like I’d heard people complain about their Roombas, it just struck me as a gadget, one that was too good to be true. You have to understand, we are a family of 4 blondes, plus a cat and until very recently a long a haired collie. It’s a contest to see who sheds more, us or the pets. My couches are the color of faded jeans and young and naive, I thought dark blue area rugs with plaid borders would look make my decore look like jeans and a flannel shirt. They weren’t on the floor 5 minutes when I recognized I had doomed myself to daily vaccuuming or grayish rugs. Guess which one won?

The ladies at the iRobot Booth told me there was a Roomba just for me the Roomba 562 Pet Series

I told A-man about my encounter with Roomba and the about the 20% discount iRobot was offering to Blissdom attendees. I planned to look online for consumer feedback, then honesstly, I got lost in the post conference catch-up and forgot all about it.

He did not.

About 10 days later, Scott, my UPS guy brought me a box from iRobot and made me promise to tell him how I liked it.

Rosie the Robot from the JetsonsI LOVE THE ROOMBA!!

Let me say that again, I LOVE THE ROOMBA.

I named her Rosie.

I am a believer. My blue rugs? They look blue, not gray. We live on a dirt road and our driveway is also dirt. Take shoes off or leave them on, it really doesn’t matter, there is dirt all through the house. Rosie takes care of it. When the she encounters dirt, a blue light comes on and she spins in circles until she has collected the offending substance. Let’s just say Rosie’s blue light is almost always on in my house.

Before and After

I shouldn’t tell you this, but she spent at least an hour just under our bed the first time she cleaned our room. That’s the cat’s domain. I guess it had been awhile since I’d gotten under there!

You simply set Rosie on the floor and press the button that says CLEAN and leave her to her duties. She even does a little cheer before she gets started. Girlfriend likes her job! Depending on the size of the room and the level of dirt, she may stop and take a break and ask you to empty her dust collection bin and clean her brushes. In our house that takes a little work (remember all that hair?), but Rosie came with tools that make cleaning her brushes quick and easy. Return the brushes to their home, press clean and Rosie is off and running.

She even leaves vaccuum lines!!

You can schedule when she runs (so you could do it while you are out) and she comes with two virtual walls, so you can limit her focus to a specific space. When all is said and done, she returns to her base to recharge issuing another little cheer. I guess like any busy woman, she’s happy to collapse into bed at the end of the a productive day.

She’s quieter than my canister vacuum, but she is a little loud for constant background noise if say, you were on the phone. Rosie the Roomba is round, so corners aren’t her strength, but she gets darned close. She even fits under the toe kicks under my kitchen cabinets. She also doesn’t do stairs, but she’ll collect the pile of of dirt, I push to the bottom using a Swifter. Having Rosie doesn’t completely eliminate the need for a competent human to operate a full sized vacuum once in a while, but it sure does extend the time between uses of said vacuum.

It’s a gadget, yes, but it is a gadget that works! Oh, and don’t discount the entertainment factor.

iRobot was a sponsor of Blissdom ‘10 a fantastic blogging conference I attended last month. I am writing this post to share with you my opinions, and to thank iRobot for their sponsorship of such an awesome event.  As a recovering event planner, I understand the importance and value of sponsors to an event’s success. That said. Everything stated here is my own personal opinion and was in no way requested or influenced by iRobot.

The Dork at THIS keyboard

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With apologies to Oh The Joys, this post is in honor of Tanis, and in a few years, for my kids.

Me in 6th Grade
Me Circa 6th Grade

There was a time when I wanted to be “cool”. I wanted to look like the other kids and wear what the cool kids wore (In sixth grade I had to have moccasins, in 7th grade, a pair of dark blue Nikes with the light blue swish). In high school I settled into the band crowd and that mostly worked for me. I still wasn’t a cool kid, but I had “people”. In college, I realized that my different looks were an advantage. People remembered me (in a good way) and I started to use that to my advantage. It my mid-20’s, I hit my stride and never looked back. Like it or lump it baby, I yam-what-i-yam, ya know?

In honor of Tanis’s post about marching to her own drummer, I share with you what makes me, me.

I was a Mac user long before Apple was cool and during the years when Steve Jobs wasn’t CEO and everyone said they were done for. I tell people my blood runs in six colors and most people don’t get it.

My first car was a brand new mini-van, by choice. I miss the functionality and would get another one in a heartbeat if it was practical where we live.

I wore sneakers under my wedding dress and proudly showed them off. I live in Danskos in the winter and Crocs sandals in the summer. I think high heels are painful and high fashion is stupid. There are days when I dress to impress, but I refuse to be uncomfortable.

I loved Star Trek the Next Generation. I thought the Wesley Crusher was cool.

I love to dance, but am hopelessly uncoordinated. There has been at least one trip to the ER tied to my dancing.

Solid, three part harmonies bring tears to my eyes. Blue grass fiddles cut right to my soul.

I didn’t start listening to FM radio until high school. As a result, I know the words to way to many cheesy 70’s songs. This includes (but is NOT limited too), Daddy Please Don’t, Convoy, The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia Any Barry Manilow song from the 70’s, Dead Skunk and several Tony Orlando and Dawn Songs. Those are just the songs in my iTunes library. I spent the first two years of college listening to the classic rock station just trying to catch up. I never made it to the “cutting edge” stuff.

I like Nickleback too. I like, 38 Special Styx, Poison, Quiet Riot, Ratt, Twisted Sister and Night Ranger. Today, my tastes, are more country. Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood, Miranda Lambert, but don’t leave out Anna Nalick, Norah Jones, and Jason Mraz. In short, my tastes are all over the map.

I like Dolly for her voice (no, really!) and yes, she has awesome business sense.

I bought The Climb by Miley Cyrus because I liked it.

I danced to Celine Dion with my Dad Dennis at my wedding (Because You Loved Me). I can belt out a mean “Its All Coming Back to Me Now”. No apologies Tanis.

I recently discovered romance novels. I can respect literature, but can rarely read it. I like good stories, and symbolism can frustrate me.

I go to the movies to be entertained. Make me laugh, and please don’t make me think too hard. I do that in other areas of my life.

My actor crush growing up? Andrew Stevens How’s THAT for out of the main stream. Anyone else remember Code Red?

I get very wrapped up in TV shows like ER and 24, to the point where I don’t watch them because they stress me out.

I hate most sit coms and reality TV because I hate to see people make fools of themselves.

I love Big Bang Theory because while not nearly as smart, I identify with the geeks.

I like old George Carlin and think that Dennis Blair is one of the funniest men walking the planet.

I drink tea, not coffee and while I have been exposed to a variety of fine teas, many of which I have enjoyed, I can be equally happy with a cup of Tetley.

I love acapella music.

My 3x Bioptic Telescope from Designs for Vision

My vision sucks, but I will not miss out on all that is to be experienced in this world. I hold things close to my face to read them and my bioptic allows me to see things clearly that are at a distance. Yes, it looks odd and if I catch you staring at me for a long time, I will turn my scope on you. If you are curious how it works, just ask me nicely. I’m happy to explain and if you’re nice, I might even let you try it.

These days, I embrace my inner dork on a regular basis. If Oh The Joys hadn’t used it first, I would have used “The Dork at the Keyboard” in my blogging description.

My daughter is approaching the precipice of her teenage years with impatience, mixed with fear and anticipation. Thanks to this book we regularly have discussions about menstrual cycles and their, uh, accouterments. I dread the teenage years because like Tanis, mine SUCKED and I want better for my kids. Yet, I know that it is just something that every kid had to get through. Right now, my daughter seems to follow her inner spirit and I can only hope she hangs on to that guide as time passes.

In the mean time, I save this link to show her it could be worse, she could be her for a mother 🙂 And, I’ll gather more photos of me to prove to my daughter, no one survives unscathed, but we all muddle through one way or the other.

My display o'dorkiness

Feelin’ the LUV for Southwest Airlines

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Southwest Airlines Green Jet

I was not compensated in any way shape or form for this post.  I am just a satisfied customer. All images © copyright and courtesy of Southwest Airlines.

The snowpocalypse that socked the mid-Atlantic region this weekend impacted at least 3 major airports and snarled air traffic throughout the country. I’m sure there will be many stories of trial and tribulation that come out of this storm.

Mine is not that story. Mine is a story of AWESOME customer service.

I flew to Nashville this weekend for the Blissdom conference. Whenever possible, I fly Southwest Airlines. Due to childcare constraints, there wasn’t a lot of padding on the outbound leg of the trip. This is risky in February, the weather can screw up your plans in the time it takes to say total snow accumulation. Mother nature didn’t disappoint. My outbound flight was delayed, making my connection in Baltmore much tighter than I wanted it to be.

Southwest Airlines Agent Assisting customer.I was able to arrive a the airport early for my departure, but not early enough for one of the earlier itineraries to Nashville. When I checked my bags, I mentioned the tight time frame in BWI. If my flight was ANY later, there was no way I would get out of Baltimore to Nashville Wednesday night. My conference started at 9am sharp on Thursday. The agent’s response? “Let me see what I can do about that.” There was an earlier flight to Baltimore with plenty of room, so she moved me. I had time to spare in Baltimore and that was fine with me.

Come Friday afternoon, the trip home was making me nervous. I was watching the weather with a sinking feeling. My husband had already worked from home Thursday and Friday, and he had an important meeting on Monday. I HAD to be home Sunday night.

I was in conference sessions all day Saturday. I checked in for my flights via the web and the system still showed an on time departure even I knew that wasn’t true. I had plans to call Southwest during one of my breaks. I looked at my phone and saw a missed call from a 214 number. I only know a few people in the Dallas area and I couldn’t imagine why any of them would be calling my cell phone. When I checked the message, is was Southwest calling to tell me the initial leg of my trip had ben canceled. No shock there. A short time later, the phone vibrated and again it was a 214 number. I grabbed it, a pleasant automated voice told me my connecting flight had also been canceled. Then Lady Luv asked me if I wanted to speak to someone to rebook my flights. I briefly considered staying in my session and calling later, but then I thought if they were offering to connect me with someone now, I should grab that brass ring.

I figured, I would be on hold, so I slowly moved to the back of the room. I was wrong. I was immediately connected to Rae and she even had my itinerary right in front of her. Cue scurrying out of the ballroom and speaking in hushed tones. I suggested that if they wanted to route me through Chicago, Midway, I would be ok with that. Nashville, to Manchester, via Midway is a not standard route for Southwest, so Rae had to get approval from customer service. She got approval, but there would be a cost difference and the amount would vary depending on whether I wanted to take the morning flights or the afternoon flights. Wait, whaa? I’m cheap er I mean frugal, I didn’t want to have to pay to change the ticket. So, I asked Rae what was available on my original itinerary. How about departing Nashville Monday morning at 7:35 and arriving in Manchester at 1:35pm? Uh no, THAT wasn’t going to work either. Ok, Rae, get me a price to travel via Chicago. While she checked, I ducked back into my session. I didn’t even have time to hear the one question before Rae was back telling me that customer service had approved a courtesey waiver and there would be no charge! Wahooo!

I LOVE SOUTHWEST AIRLINES!!!

The flight home was utterly uneventful. I was sorry to leave the ladies of Bissdom’10 behind, but I was grateful to get home.

Thanks Southwest.

Albinism Featured on 20/20 on ABC

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I have albinism, a genetic condition that causes a lack of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes. This means I have very fair skin, bright blonde hair and blue eyes (blue, NOT red). Oh, an far from perfect vision. When I say “I have albinism.”, some people look at me funny. When I say “most people are more familiar with the word Albino.” Often a light bulb goes off. “Oh, I went to school with an albino.” Or, “My husband’s, sister’s, brother-in-law’s daughter is albino.” Many in the albinism community recoil at being called an albino. It doesn’t phase me so much, but that is a post for another day.

For me, albinism is an inconvenience. It is a pain slathering on layers of sunscreen, wearing a hat everywear and wearing sunglasses even on a cloudy day. BUT, at least I have sunscreen to protect my skin from skin cancer, I have contact lenses and glasses that help me see well enough to drive. I do not have the ultra rare kind of albinism that comes with medical complications. Nor, do I fear for my life every time I leave my house.

Since 2007, at least 53 (probably more) people with albinism living in Eastern Africa have been violently murdered for their body parts. The victims are tortured and killed by violent means as folklore often requires the killer to drink the blood of their victim to ward off dangerous spirits. The corpse is then hacked to pieces and sold to witch doctors for use in potions and salves.

I’m sorry, to be graphic, but the story is THAT disturbing.

According to ABC News, the story was broken by a BBC reporter who went undercover to try and expose the heinous crimes. It has been slow in starting, but there is a movement a foot lead by several non profit organizations including NOAH, Under the Same Sun, and Positive Exposure to shine a spotlight on these atrocities and force the governments to hold those responsible for these crimes accountable for their actions.

For more than a year NOAH has been working with ABC news on a story about albinism. The final product will air tonight on the ABC News show 20/20. There are stories of Americans with albinism, but most of the show is devoted to the crisis in Tanzania. There are preview clips here. From what I can gather this show is NOT suitable for a family audience.

I’m a little uneasy about the content of the show. For the most part, albinism is a rare and misunderstood condition. The lack of vision presents a real problem, but most of the challenges arise from our society’s intolerance of difference. I’m glad the situation in Tanzania is getting some attention. People with albinism there live a life very different from mine in so many ways. I hope that while they highlight the challenges that people with albinism face, they also show that people with albinism are not doomed to a life of suffering (at least not in the U.S.).

If course the irony of a segment about people with a visual impairment on a show called 20/20 isn’t lost on me.

Tune in an let me know what you think.

I Love the Internet Part 2

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As I have said many times, I love music. I’m not a fan of rap and I don’t really appreciate opera, but you’ll find a sample of almost every other kinds of music in my iTunes Library.

When I was a kid, traveling sales people used to visit large places of business and peddle their wares. One such sales person sold records (you know the plastic discs) at the newspaper where my mother worked. One day she came home with A Friend of Mine Is Going Blind by John Dawson Read. Never heard of it? The title single hit only hit #70 on the Billboard Charts. Other than the title track, there was one other song that stuck with me all these years. Sally Ally Sunday is a song about a family taking a day trip and spending time as a family. The music is guitar and mostly mellow folk.

I liked the record and played it incessantly. Over the years, I recorded many of my LPs (go look that term up kiddies), to cassette tape (oh and that term too) but A Friend of Mind Is Going Blind never made it. I’ve searched for it in the digital world, but had no luck. August saw us taking a lot of Sally Ally Sunday trips as a family and I decided to hunt once again for this piece of my past.

This time, I found a lyrics site that listed lyrics for A Friend of Mine is Going Blind. Somewhere in the comments. someone listed a link to John Dawson Read’s web site (I’d Googled him, but spelled his last name Reed). Jackpot! I learned quite a bit, turns how he had two commercially available albums and had just recently turned out a new CD of studio songs.

On a whim, I emailed and asked where I could purchase a digital version of Sally Ally Sunday. HE WROTE BACK!! Not only did he write back, he attached an MP3 of Sally Ally Sunday! I was seriously over the moon. He also told me that the original album had been digitally remastered. I ordered a copy and it arrived promptly, I’ve been enjoying the meander down memory lane as I listen to it.

I LOVE THE INTERNET

I Love the Internet Part 1

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As we sat at the picnic table devouring an amazing labor day meal, D (as he is wanton to do), began to sing. I don’t remember the song exactly, but I’d bet that it was Jimmy Buffett song. Then he said “Second verse same as the first a little be louder and a whole lot worse.”

I knew that lyric was from a song we sang at Girl Scout Camp, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the song. I stretched and stretched and while I could see the dining hall and remember the meals and the pastel plates. I could not get my head around the song.

It was really bugging me, so, I did what any other 21st century woman would do, I hit Facebook. I posted the lyric and begged for help. Within an hour, I was rewarded with my answer.


Fried Ham, Fried Ham, Cheese and Bolgona, and after the macaroni we’ll have some onions, and pickles, and peppers, and then we’ll have some more fried ham, fried ham, fried ham…

THAT’S IT! Thanks TM! There were others who pointed out it was from Henry the 8th, but Fried Ham was the song I was looking for.

The memories came flooding back, the dining hall, the summer barn program, the musty tents and the latrines. Good stuff (well except the latrines of course).

Tell me, how did we get by without the Internet???

Alcoholism Blinds Us All

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I wrote this a few weeks ago, but didn’t post it because it seemed out of date by the time I completed it. Then yesterday, I read this by DaMomma, and this by One Crafty Mother. Since they brought it up again, I thought I’d post my two cents.

First, I want to offer sincerest condolences to the Bastardi, the Hames, the Longo, and the Schuler families. I cannot begin to imagine the hell you are living through right now.

For those who may have missed it there was a fatal crash on the Taconic Parkway in New York on July 27, 2009. The fact that everyone agrees on are that Diane Schuler was driving home from a weekend camping trip in her minivan with her two-year-old daughter, five-year-old son and three nieces aged nine, seven and five. She was traveling northbound in the southbound lanes of the Taconic Parkway when she crashed head on into a SUV carrying Michael Bastardi, his father Guy Bastardi, and long time family friend Daniel Longo. Both cars burst into flames killing everyone but Schuler’s five-year-old son.

Diane Schuler’s autopsy results would later show a blood alcohol level of .19, more than double the legal limit. Her husband, Daniel Schuler denies his wife was an alcoholic. The family’s attorney claims the crash was caused by an undiagnosed medical condition.

I believe that Daniel Schuler didn’t know his wife had a drinking problem, but that doesn’t mean Diane Schuyler was not an alcoholic. In fact, it lends more credibility to the idea that she did indeed have addiction issues.

The burning questions everyone has are how did this happen? And, why would a mother knowingly put children she loved at risk? The answers are neither explanatory nor comforting.

When an event occurs that is this catastrophic everyone wants someone to blame, blaming a disease does not provide the reward we seek. This must be someone’s fault. Still, alcoholism is a disease and alcoholics are slaves to their master. An active alcoholic can lie and rationalize away the problem in ways that the average person would find inconceivable and completely illogical.

An alcoholic does not have a problem everyone else does. An alcoholic can look you straight in the eye and tell you that white is black and to them this is not a lie because they actually believe white is black. And, for the life of them, they can’t understand why you can’t see the truth. An alcoholic can be so convincing and the signs of trouble so subtle, that those around them start to question their own sanity. You start to think ‘oh, it must be me, I’ll try harder’. You don’t realize you aren’t living “normal” until a) something catastrophic happens or b) someone not so close to the situation asks “What the hell is going on here?”

I speak from personal experience with an active alcoholic who lives in denial, but sadly I have found too many others with friends or family members with addiction issues share my experiences.

In a perfect world Daniel Schuler would have known his wife had a drinking problem. In a perfect world he would’ve gotten her help, or at the very least he wouldn’t have let her drive. But, in the real world, he had no clue. Diane Schuler is the only responsible party. She paid the ultimate price and yet it still isn’t enough.

If you even THINK someone close to you has an issue with addiction of any type, get help, help for you, help for them. No doubt if you broach the subject with the addicted individual, you will be rebuffed (sometimes harshly), but there are numerous free support groups (e.g. Al-anon and Alcoholics Anonymous), that provide information and support. You can also share your concerns with your loved one’s doctor. They can’t talk to you without permission, but you are free to share background and experiences. Ask your own doctor for a referral to a counselor experienced in dealing with families of addicts. Make no mistake addiction not only impacts the addict, those closest, be they friends or family are affected as well. You don’t have to live this way.