Catching up with Banana and Squish

It's been a while since I've caught you all up on Banana and Squish. In fact I think I've written more about other people and other issues than I have about the main point of this blog.  But that's okay, because in many ways, those issues concern my kids in one way or another. And they affect us as a society in one way or another.  So I'm using that as a reason to claim them to be relevant.

But let's catch you up with Banana and Squish. 

The girls are in high school now,  Grade 10 this year.  I'd like to say they're doing amazing, but in reality, there have been a few struggles.  Banana is not doing great in English, and that's actually a time management issue more than a learning issue.  I'm not sure how to help her with time management.  Things that I have tried, haven't worked. I'm going to try one more thing and if that doesn't work, I'm going to have to call in a professional - and I don't know who that would be. 

Outside of school, Banana is still a member of the 140 Aurora Royal Air Cadet Squadron (www.140aurora.com) and is a Sergeant this year.  She spent three weeks this past summer at Base Borden at the Blackdown Cadet Training Centre, which is on the base.  She was taking the Basic Survival course and she loved it.  The previous summer she was at the Cadet Training Centre in Trenton for General Training, which she also loved.  One of the many things I love about this program, especially for a kid like Banana, is that she is learning valuable skills that will carry her through her life. She is learning leadership skills, citizenship skills, volunteerism. She's learning to respect members of the Canadian Forces and everything they've done for our country.  Every Remembrance Day, her Squadron and the 2799 Queen's York Rangers Army Cadet unit march in the Aurora Remembrance Day Parade.  Two Air Cadets and two Army Cadets stand guard at the cenotaph, the town is represented by many of the clubs and societies that make up Aurora. So not only is it the Cadet units and squadrons, but it's also the Legion, Mason Lodge, Knights of Columbus, the Lion's Club, the Rotary Club, and many, many others.  It's a beautiful ceremony.  

The Cadets also sell poppies alongside the veterans of the Legion prior to Remembrance Day.  Our Squadron tries to help out the Legion as much as we can.  We also serve dinner at one of their events during the year and support them as best we can.  We have a fantastic relationship with the Aurora Legion.  They support us and we support them. It's really quite beautiful.  I'm very proud of Banana's involvement. 

Just this year, she was named Second in Command for the band, which is a big deal.  

Although we have time, post-secondary education is still something we're thinking about.  Banana is considering entering the Canadian Forces, which I am all for.  She will be able to determine what she really wants to do in life, and the Forces will pay for her post-secondary education. 

What else can I tell you about Banana in the past few months?  

She is turning into one of the most compassionate and amazing young women I've had the pleasure of knowing.  I can honestly say, I really enjoy spending time with my kids (more on that with Squish later).  They are funny, honest and sweet. They're smart, they're intelligent and they have amazing senses of humour.

Squish:

My Squish.  I don't even remember when I started calling them Squish, but they is my Squish indeed. In fact, in my phone, they're listed as "Squishybum". 

When I look at them I am amazed at what this kid, who was only four pounds, five ounces at birth, has turned into this absolutely amazing person.

Squish has changed their mind a few times about what they would like to do in the future.  Up until last year, they wanted to be a Special Effects Makeup Artist.  This year it changed to Social Worker and now Police Officer.  That last one is because I'm going back to school this year to study Police Foundations, with the intent to join a police force (preferably York Region), and then move into Cybercrime or Forensics (Crime Scene Investigation, not autopsy).  Whatever Squish chooses to do in their life, I support them wholeheartedly. 

Why do I keep referring to Squish as a 'they'?  Last year, Squish came out and told us that they are gay. I'll admit I had a little bit of the questioning. "Is she sure?" Etc.  But I have always told my kids that I want them to be happy, and if in a relationship, respected and loved.  So after telling us they're gay, Hubby and I joined our local Pflag chapter for some support. We found we aren't the only ones to question whether our children are "sure" about their sexuality, and how to move past that.  I was amazed to find people still unable to accept their child's sexuality, but impressed that they would come to the meetings anyway.  Just recently, Squish has announced they are also non-binary, which means they don't identify either male or female.  I am totally okay with this. I need my kids happy and I really don't care whether they wear skirts, dresses, pants or boy's underwear. Just as long as the clothes are clean.

So, after learning that Squish is gay, we also found a summer camp for them to attend.  Machane Lev is the FIRST Jewish LGBTQ camp in Canada.  They ran for one week last summer at the end of August and are running one week again this summer. Squish can't wait to go back.  Camp pictures that were posted shocked me - because I couldn't remember seeing Squish smile so widely.  She's made friendships that I think will last her a lifetime, and she's even said she'd like to work there when she's old enough, as a counsellor.  Which made me laugh, because I told her she needed a job last summer (which she did not get) and that camps are easy to work at - with pretty decent money. 

In July, (yeah, I know, I'm all over the place). Squish and her dad drove down to Florida to meet their girlfriend.  Yes, Squish is in a long-distance relationship with a girl in Florida.  My biggest concern is the distance.  It's not easy to maintain a long-distance relationship. I've tried.  They both had a great time, Hubby and Squish.  And on the way home, stopped in Senoia, Georgia to visit the Walking Dead set.  I am still very, very jealous. 

School has not been too bad for Squish.  They are taking courses they love (hairstyling and esthetics, for one). They're doing fairly well.  I mean, my kids might never be honour roll students, but neither were Hubby and I and we're doing just fine. 

 As a family, we're all doing alright.  Squish has gotten me obsessed (maybe I should write that as OBSESSED with Panic! At the Disco. It's, like, all I listen to now.  And somehow, we managed to convince Hubby it would be a good idea to drive 5 hours to Laval, in January, for the Panic! At the Disco concert.  I think the proximity to Mt. Tremblant might have been the attraction for him, to be honest.  Hubby is a Ski Patroller and he doesn't get to ski very great runs here in Ontario.  Tremblant is much better for his skill set.  So after the concert on the 12th, Hubby and Squish (who is a Patroller in Training) are going up to Tremblant while Banana and I are going to go to the Cosmodome in Montreal, and just hang out together in Montreal.  Should be good fun for all of us. 

I am, however, trying to get an interview with Brendon Urie (who really is Panic! At the Disco - since he's the last remaining original member, and he has touring musicians and session musicians, and no full-time band members anymore), on behalf of Pflag, as he came out quite famously as pansexual last year.  I would love to get his story.  I think it would be great for Pflag and our service users.  I've emailed his management and his media company. So now, I just wait. 

And that's pretty much the big stuff here in Banana and Squish Land. 

Hope you had a great New Year, and Happy 2019

Terror in Toronto

Really, it was inevitable.  Whether or not this was indeed a terror attack (indications point to it being more a probability than a possibility), remains to be conclusively reported.

Ramming people with a van or truck has been used in several countries in the past few years.  It was done in Nice, France on Bastille Day.  It was done in London, England outside the Parliament Buildings.  It has been done in Israel several times (until they decided to switch to stabbing attacks on Jewish citizens instead).   And it was attempted in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada in the not too far past.

This is not the first (possible terrorist) attack in Canada.  There was a shooting at our own parliament buildings a few years ago in which the life of a Canadian Forces member was ended.  There was the mosque shooting in Quebec.

However, despite the fact that details have not come to light regarding motive - the police haven't released that information yet, but they do have the driver in custody - already terrorism is being touted as the reason.  I've seen ISIS being blamed (as far as I know, they haven't taken responsibility yet).  People I know are blaming Muslim extremists already.

And if anyone disagrees with them, they're beginning to bully those who don't tow the 'It's the Muslims' line.

I don't know what was behind this tragedy.  I'm not in the police services, and I'm not in the media.

I will wait to see what the authorities have to say.

Stay safe everyone.  Let's use this tragedy to become a community, and not tear ourselves apart with hate.

Did I Really Let Nearly Two Years Go By?

Squish finished of Grade 8 by winning the
Drama and Arts award for her Dance Presentation

According to my blog roll, the last post I made on this blog was April 24 of 2016.  I let two years go by without updating you all on Life with Banana and Squish.  So here goes...

First day of school - GRADE 9!

Banana and Squish are 14 now.  They'll be 15 this July.  They started high school this past September and settled in quite nicely.  Their grades aren't all that bad, but I do wish I could convince them to study just a little bit - not because I want them getting straight As.  We only expect them to try hard and do their best.  But studying helps maintain their grades and maybe improve a little.  We've never put a huge emphasis on grades, but we have put an emphasis on learning and challenging themselves. It seems to be a losing battle, but I'm going to keep trying (FIFTEEN MINUTES!  THAT'S ALL I ASK!!)

Cadet Banana at the Aurora Santa Claus Parade

Banana joined the Royal Canadian Air Cadets last year (140 Aurora Squadron), and this is now her second year in her Squadron.  She's now a Flight Corporal, in Level 3 and joined both the Marksmanship teams (my kid can shoot a gun) and the Band (snare drum).  She'll be going to her Band Competition next weekend and about a month ago, she went to the Marksmanship competition, where she did not too badly for a kid who didn't get a lot of practice time (along with the rest of the team) and had never been to competition before.

Her favourite activity is gliding and she was bummed when she found out that Band Competition and Gliding were on the same day.  Then she found out that the band would be bussed from the competition to the airfield for their chance to glide.  Here's hoping the weather holds for them (the fall gliding session was cancelled because of weather, and as I write this, we are experiencing a nice Spring ice storm).

Cadet Banana heading off to General Training

Through Cadets, she also gets to go to Summer Training, which is held on various military bases.  The Cadets have to apply to go to summer training and their Commanding Officers and Instructors also have to recommend them.  Last summer she applied for General Training and that's where she went (she applied for two others, but she was offered GT).  She spent two weeks at CF Trenton in their Cadet Training Centre.  One of the great things about these programs is that parents can come and visit any time during the week after training.  So from 4:30-8:30 pm during the week and all day on Sunday.  Because she was in General Training she was not allowed off base on the Sundays, so we brought a picnic lunch, and at one point, wound up making a McDonald's run.  We only visited her on the Sunday because Trenton is about 2 hours from home and during the week, we couldn't get there.

This summer, she got her dream offer and will be spending three weeks at Base Borden, about 45 minutes from home, and participating in Basic Survival.  She states that her desire is to go into Search and Rescue as a career.  This will definitely be a stepping stone towards that goal.  I can't wait for her to go because she is so excited about it!

Cadet Banana and some of her Flight from Summer Training

We are very proud of the young lady she is becoming.













Squish is completely different from Banana.  She definitely marches to the beat of her own... Bass guitar.  Squish is my little rockstar, and I say that with no irony.  She has been studying Bass guitar for about 3 years now, and she's really good!  She learns most music by ear and while she also has taken piano lessons and has a keyboard that she plays around on sometimes, her real love seems to be Bass.  She has been taking lessons through Rockstar Music and initially started out in "Group Jams" and had private lessons - so she was taking music twice a week.  This year, she's only going once a week, but gets a 2 hour Group Jam where, evidently, they are also learning to write their own songs.

Twice a year, the school puts on a rock show and we get to see and hear the talent from these kids.  They take kids in pretty young, so we've seen 4 or 5 year old ukelele players and 16 or 17 year old drummers and guitarists show off their talents in the showcases.






Squish has also joined the Gay/Straight Alliance at school (Banana did too) and has gone to a couple of workshops, has participated in fundraisers and awareness days at school.

Those aren't real bruises.
That's makeup!

Her passion is still Special Effects Makeup, and she is taking Aesthetics as one of her elective courses.  At Hallowe'en, they learned some special effects makeup techniques, and during the rest of the year, they deal with regular types of makeup, including day wear, evening wear and theatre makeup.  They also do hairstyling and she's learned how to use different types of curling irons and I gave her permission to have her hair dyed.  She also has my permission to have her hair cut if ever needed as part of a project/lesson.  She's a smart kid - she won't let someone with no clue touch her head.

Last month, she participated in a fashion show at school, and Banana took video of it for us to see.  My kid looked great.  The kids picked their own clothes to wear and the theme was supposed to be 'futuristic',  Squish picked some great outfits.  A dress she 'made' (by altering a dress she already owned) and part of a costume we bought for her for Fan Expo here in Toronto.

That's another one of her passions - Fan Expo.  We go - Banana, Squish and I, every year on at least one day.  Squish and I go for the Walking Dead panels (hoping, of course, that there IS a Walking Dead panel, since last year the only panel was on the Saturday, and we usually go on the Sunday).  And Squish and Banana like to go for Anime panels (last year we went to the Women in Voice Acting panel for Anime).  They always hope there will be an opportunity for them to meet some of their favourite Anime voice actors.  This year, I'm sort of hoping to volunteer at Fan Expo and hoping I can get the girls in one, or two days.  We miss a lot of the Expo because we focus on the panels and on the North Building, where vendors we like are.  We do go down to the South Building, but often, there aren't things for the girls that they like.  The convention floor in the South Building is a lot of comic retailers and other types of merchandise that they aren't interested (like Artist's Alley) as well as displays by various media companies, and if it isn't Walking Dead or something Anime, they aren't interested.

As for me?  Well, I had some interesting news this past January.  I found my birth mother.  Most people who know me, know I'm adopted, and some knew I'd actually started looking.  Well, I finally applied for information through the Government and was sent a copy of my Adoption Order (which my parents had and had given me a copy of), and my Statement of Live Birth.  Through those documents, I learned my birth mother's name, her address at the time of my birth, and her birthday.  Through a Facebook page, I got a "search angel" who tracked her down through Facebook and while she doesn't seem to want any contact (I keep saying 'she wants nothing to do with me,' but that's not really fair), I did get some medical information and a little bit of background (in as much as apparently I come from a long line of 'strong, independent women'.  People who know me seem to be shocked - LOL!)  She has pictures of myself and the girls and she has my email address.  I also sent her a little note through my search angel and let her know that I would be interested in an email conversation - that I'm not looking to replace my current family and I'm certainly not looking for a 'new mom'.  I let her know that I have never held against her her decision to give me up for adoption (although I know the reasons but my search angel said she hadn't wanted to hurt me with the information.  I actually guessed it).  I'm hoping maybe one day she'll reach out.  I might send her a message asking her about her parents.  Her dad fought in World War 2 and I'd love to be able to honour him on Remembrance Day.

I think that pretty much you all caught up.  Enjoy a cup of ice cream.  Like the girls are in the picture below.  Ice cream solves everything.  Even coffee withdrawl ('cause you know, coffee ice cream)

XXOO

Gayla

Transgenders in the bathroom scare me

But do you know why?

(Before you start ranting about me being irrational and start spewing facts about the number of assaults in public washrooms committed by transgendered people - please read on first...)

Not because I think a transgendered woman is going to attack me or my daughters in a public restroom.

Not because I think a transgendered woman is going to take a peek at my 'naughty bits' in a public washroom. 

But because suddenly, our oh-so-tolerant society (yes, that eye-roll you feel coming on -- let 'er rip) that I live in, has suddenly become (not so suddenly) oh, so intolerant.

North Carolina is passing legislation that will force - FORCE - transgendered people to use the bathroom that matches the gender they were assigned at birth, not the gender with which they identify.

So, basically, a man, who was born a woman, would have to share the bathroom with my daughters.  Now, do I think that man is going to assault my daughters?  No. 

My fear isn't for my daughters at the hands of transgendered anybodys.  My fear is for the transgendered people who get hassled every single day of their lives.  Who have lived a life of fear far deeper than the fear that is instilled in girls throughout their lives.  My fear is for the transgendered man in the women's washroom because North Carolina says he has to use that washroom due to what his birth certificate says.

And who's checking this, anyway?  Is  North Carolina going to hire a bunch of gender identifiers?  Are they going to start requiring transgendered people to register with the government and wear some sort of identifying mark?

You know who did that once?  Look how that turned out.

No.  I'm not afraid of a woman sharing a bathroom with me who may or may not have been born a woman.  Seriously - I just need to pee.  And likely, so does she.  I'm not afraid OF the man standing awkwardly outside a bathroom in North Carolina, trying to decide if he's brave enough to go into the men's washroom and risk 'getting caught', or if he should go into the women's washroom because that's where in North Carolina,  his birth certificate says he is supposed to go. And what happens when he walks in there and some woman comes out and complains?  Do you think someone will say "oh, well, he's transgendered, so it's all cool.  Just relax" or "hey dude, you're not supposed to be in the women's washroom!"

No.  I don't foresee any problems arising from this!  (yep - eye roll again). 

This is just another - I don't know - attempt - to force one person's (or in this case, group of people's) biased views on another group regardless of the repercussions.

I have to say, I don't think this was well thought out.  Because really, what place does the government have in the pants of its citizens?

And if there are ever any transgendered women who are afraid to use the women's washroom for fear someone might say something.... I'll go with you. 

The Neon Pink Backpack.

About seven or eight years ago, I was diagnosed with a life threatening illness. 20% of Canadians will be diagnosed with this in their lifetime. 100% of Canadians will be affected either by friends or family who will be diagnosed with this. It's one of those illnesses that doesn't discriminate based on age, economic status, gender, or culture.

Treatment is pretty simple. Medications control the illness and its symptoms. Effective treatments and consistent follow-up with my medical team help keep the illness in check and avoid major complications.

But there is one huge difference.

People run away from people like me.  No one is lining up to offer me or my family support, keep my kids busy, visit or call or bring meals.

If I had cancer (and this is not at all to say that cancer in and of itself isn't serious), the amount of support my family would be offered would be immeasurable.

But I don't have cancer.

I have depression.  It can affect every waking moment of every single day.  It can leave me exhausted by simply getting out of bed in the morning.  There can be days where just getting a shower or making a meal feels like a gargantuan feat. 

And there are the good days.  The days where I practically spring out of bed, ready to face my day, fight the good fight, and feel like bedtime can't come soon enough because I have been so busy and productive that I have exhausted myself, but I feel ready for more. 

Thankfully, there are more of those days than the former.

The thing is, the stigma of mental illness is such that while 100% of Canadians are going to be affected by this disease, those that are lucky enough to not have the disease do not understand what their actions do to those who do. 

When you have a friend who is diagnosed as depressed, deciding that it's too hard for you to deal with is probably the most selfish and hurtful thing you can do.  Depression is isolating.  Depression can be all consuming.  The person with depression might come off as angry and rude, but the reality is, they are - they are angry that they are feeling so low, and they (we) don't know how to handle it.  We push people away because we don't want to be with ourselves.  When you have a friend who seems to be pushing away, you should be pulling them in closer.  Not accepting that they are pushing you away.  Once you've isolated that friend, or rather, once that person has isolated themselves from you, your response, or lack of response, simply solidifies in their mind that they are the worthless piece of junk their brain has told them they are. 

When a depressed person feels abandoned by her friends, not reaching out simply tells that person that she is indeed abandoned.  That the people she thought cared, really don't.  Because if they did, they would not have abandoned her.

It's a state of mind and it's cruel.  Chemical imbalances that require medical intervention are cruel. 

Imagine, for a minute, that you had a 100 pound weight on your back.  You cannot put that weight down for anything.  It's already on you when you get up in the morning, and you can't take it off to shower, use the toilet, brush your teeth or cook breakfast.  You can't take it off to drive to work, or do your grocery shopping.  You can't take it off at work at your desk, and you must absolutely carry it around everywhere you go.  It goes to bed with you, too.

But you can't tell anyone about it either.  Because people don't want to know about your 100-lb  backpack.  They would much rather ignore it and pretend that even though it's neon pink, doesn't match with your outfit, and sometimes even has a flashing light and siren that will go off at intermittent, unplanned intervals, we just don't talk about pink backpacks.  Your pink backpack is your problem to deal with.  No one else wants to know about it. 

Chances are, they have their own backpacks.  Some of them are heavy, but match well with their outfits, so they're hardly recognizable, and often, they are someone else's burden, that they are carrying for that person.  Or that they have taken on of their own accord.

Sometimes, the backpack looks like your neon pink backpack, but it also has a sign on it that says "cancer", and people are drawn to helping them with their backpack.  Or trying.  They'll offer to take a few things out of their backpack in an attempt to lighten their load.  Sometimes, their backpack is much bigger than yours.  Sometimes, their backpack is so big, it's only a matter of time before the backpack takes them away.  And those people struggle if not just as hard, sometimes even more than we do with our intermittent-siren-and-lights backpack.

Sometimes, people have a big pink backpack, but all they carry in it is one or two small things.  They think their backpack is the same as your backpack, but they need all the attention.  They've found a way to trip the siren and the light so it goes off all the time.  They get the sympathy you crave, even though you haven't told anyone about your backpack, and have tried to hide it by covering it with something that makes it look like everybody else's backpack.  You force yourself to stand taller and not bend over the weight of your backpack, so you can look like you're not carrying a 100-lb noisy and light emitting backpack. 

And just when you think you've got a handle on the weight of your backpack, something inside shifts and the weight is once again unevenly distributed.  Now you have to find your balance again with this shift.  See if you can figure out what shifted and whether or not you can get it back in place, or if you have to find a new way to cope with this new distribution.  There are professional backpack packers.  They can help you pack your backpack in new ways and even help you get rid of some burdensome items.  Buy they won't come to you.  You have to find them.  And sometimes you may not like the way they pack your backpack, so you have to try another one who will help you, and not tell you how to pack your backpack.

Everyone has a backpack.  They're all different sizes with all sorts of different items in them.  You can ask for help, but your friends should realize when your backpack might be getting too heavy.  As people with depression, we need people who will be there when our backpack gets too heavy or the load shifts.  We already recognize that other people's backpacks are also heavy.  And because we don't want to add the weight of our backpack, we pretend our backpack isn't as heavy as it is.  We carry ourselves and hide the weight of our packs.  Just so our friends, the people we are supposed to turn to when our packs are heavy, won't feel burdened by our loads.

Don't be that sort of friend.  If you have a friend with a neon pink backpack that intermittently sounds a siren and flashes lights, ask them if they need help with their load.  Sometimes, that's all they need.  To know someone recognizes they have a heavy load and are willing to help.   Don't stop calling and inviting them or excluding them because their backpack is a garish shade of pink.  Remember, they didn't choose to have this neon pink backpack with the lights and sirens.  This is the backpack they were given. 

Anti-vaxxers have compassion - just for the wrong people

Recently, a legal case started being heard in an Alberta court.  The defendants are David Stephan and Collet Stephan.  The parents of 19-month-old Ezekiel Stephan who died in March, 2012 of meningitis. 

Why are the parents being charged?  What have they been charged with?  Well, quite simply, they have been charged with failing to "provide the necessities of life". 

David worked at "Truehope Nutritional Support", a nutritional supplement company.  They did not vaccinate their children and sought "natural remedies" for any ailments their children or themselves came down with.

Which meant when Ezekiel started showing symptoms of meningitis, they chose natural supplements over medical care. Even after they were told he might have meningitis, they forewent conventional medical care and went to what many of us in the pro-science pro-medicine community like to call "NotaDoctor". 

Ezekiel suffered for a week, getting weaker, sicker and stiffer.  He had a fever. He couldn't eat, because he felt so ill.  According to his parents, he just wanted to "sit and snuggle" with them.  He got stiffer over the course of the last week of his conscious life. He was so stiff that when they took him to Nota Doctor, they had to put him on a mattress in the back of the car. And even after NotaDoctor told them it might be meningitis and that they should take him to the hospital, they still chose to treat him at home with their natural remedies. 

Then he stopped breathing.

And that is when his parents decided it might be a good time to call an ambulance. 

The parents choice to wait for an ambulance, which they claim was 30 minutes away, and then claim wasn't equipped, is not only false, but to have the audacity to claim the people you called after you failed to take care of your child, didn't have the equipment, I can't even...

Ambulances are leveled as ALS or BLS.  Advanced Life Support or Basic Life Support.  The ambulance station closest to the Stephans had both ALS and BLS.  The BLS has much of the same equipment as the ALS ambulance, which was already out on a call that night. 

I'm not sure how familiar you are with anatomy, physiology and biology, but one thing I know without a doubt - it doesn't matter what the ambulance has on it, a kid that isn't breathing on his own is a dead kid.  And no matter what is done or isn't done, it's impossible to make someone more dead than.. well.. dead.  And Ezekiel was, essentially, dead.  He was no longer breathing and the parents had yet to call a doctor.

Reports vary as to whether the Stephans drove to meet the "unequipped" ambulance or not, but either way - they had already delayed care for over a week.

The outcome, without going into all the details of who and what, is that their 19-month-old is dead because they chose to ignore the glaring evidence that he was dying.

And instead of taking responsibility for their actions, and admitting they waited too long, they are blaming the EMTs for not having the proper equipment to resuscitate their dead child.  They are blaming the hospital and its staff for not being able to raise the dead.  They're blaming the LifeFlite team for being unable to revive their dead son, and they are blaming Alberta Children's Hospital for not being able to use life support to make their dead kid alive.

They have blamed EVERYONE but themselves - the true cause of their child's death.

They, and the anti-vaxx community, are using their case as an example of how the government is cracking down on those who choose not to vaccinate.  Except that this case has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not Ezekiel had been vaccinated.  Meningitis vaccines aren't even mandatory vaccines.  As a matter of fact, Banana and Squish aren't vaccinated for meningitis (yet - I have to take them in to the doctor where the vaccine is waiting for us). 

The Crown isn't charging David and Collet with "failure to vaccinate".  This case has absolutely NOTHING to do with a Canadian parent's right not to vaccinate.  As far as I can tell, the Crown doesn't give a rat's ass as to whether or not Ezekiel was vaccinated.  What the Crown cares about, and what they are pursuing, is that David and Collet withheld life-saving treatment by their own refusal to take their son to a doctor or a hospital where he would have received life-saving medications.  That their actions are a direct cause to their son's death.  That Ezekiel's death could have been prevented had they simply GONE TO THE DOCTOR.  Had they gone to a doctor's office any time in that week when Ezekiel got stiffer and more miserable, they would not be sitting in an Alberta courthouse while the Crown argues for them to be punished for their hand in their son's death. They are playing the victim.

Had they taken Ezekiel to the doctor, they would very likely have a 4-nearly-5-year-old, who may or may not have had some lasting effects of battling meningitis, but he would be alive.

And of course, the anti-vaxxers have taken up the cause.  They are siding with David and Collet.  They are saying we should have "compassion" and be "understanding" of their religious beliefs (their religion does not play a part in this.  Not at all).  They are saying this case is to vilify them and other parents who choose not to vaccinate their children.  They are trying to make this an "us" against "them" case.  They are trying to say that this case is trying to make an example out of parents who should have the right to choose to not vaccinate their kids.

Do you know who they should have compassion for?  Have compassion for David and Collet's surviving children.  They didn't get to choose their parents, and if the Stephans Parents wind up both going to jail, those children are going into the foster care system, and they will likely be split up.  If they're lucky, they'll get a decent foster family. The odds are against them in general.

Have compassion for Ezekiel.  He lived his remaining days in pain and misery because of the decisions of his parents - the people who he relied on to keep him safe.

The Fifth Commandment (if you believe in Gd and the Bible) is "honour thy father and thy mother".  We need a Commandment 5.5.  "Honour thy child and keep him or her safe from harm, even from your own hand".

#BellLetsTalk day

January 27 is Bell's annual "Let's Talk" day.  It's a day in which Bell donates money for every tweet with the hashtag #BellLetsTalk and raises money for Mental Health initiatives.

Many people who know me, know that I have, and sometimes suffer from, depression.  Someone once said that depression is often worse than terminal cancer, because people with cancer have people who rally behind them, have support, and have people who bring up their self-esteem.

People with mental illnesses are often shunned, abandoned, misunderstood, and not rallied behind, not supported, and often, their self-esteem suffers.

I know this all too well.  People don't want to support the person who's always down, who sometimes bails on plans because the thought of getting dressed is simply too exhausting.  People stop inviting, stop calling, stop checking in. 

I said in a post today that if I had cancer, I'd have friends.  They'd rally around me and my family.  They'd be there with food, with ideas, with ways to engage.  But because depression - and mental illness in and of itself - is unpredictable, people don't know how - or perhaps don't want to - deal. 

It's much easier, I guess, for them to just turn their backs and walk away, using the excuse "well, I tried."   All I can say is if you truly are a friend - try harder.  Just because one person in your life has suffered from depression, doesn't mean any of the other people you know who do suffer the same way.  Just because one person was an ass, doesn't mean the other person is.

I found, after this summer, that the group of friends with whom I though I had a decent relationship, were not the people I thought they were.  I have cut the toxic relationships out of my life - for the most part - and am focussing on meeting new people, strengthening the relationships I have (interestingly, the people I have known since high school are still in my circle of friends, despite my diagnosis.  The ones I've made since marriage and kids, they're the ones who are no longer in my life).  I'm deepening friendships with people I had lost touch with and meeting new people. 

I also have an awesome job that I love - but makes me go to networking events and be outside my comfort zone frequently.  So that's always interesting. 

I'm learning what it takes for me to realize when my depression is trying to take hold, and when I'm heading into a spiral - either up or down.  I have people I can rely on who will tell me when they think they see a trigger starting something.  And I have people - some I know in real life, some I only know on Facebook - with whom I can discuss my hopes, my dreams, my fears and my feelings of either euphoria or abandonment - depending on the issue, the time of day and whatever other factors are at play.

I would say that I miss those friends with whom I am no longer friends, but as time goes on, I realize I don't.  If they had been true friends, they'd still be around.  They'd be rallying.  They'd be checking in to see how I'm doing, and I would be able to check in and see how they are.  It's a two sided road, I realize. 

I think what some people don't seem to realize, and what isn't always well defined, is that depression is tricky.  It makes you seem selfish.  It makes it seem like you think everything is about you.  That couldn't be further from the truth.  It's worse than that.  It's realizing that you are coming across as selfish and that nothing but your own problems matter.  It's realizing that people perceive that, but you can't articulate that you know it's not about you.  It's knowing that you should be asking people how they are, but hurting so much inside, that you don't want to ask, because you know they will ask you, and they don't really want to hear the truth. 

I think one of the stigmas of mental illness, and depression in particular, is that we may come across as selfish and self-centred.  The fact is, in a lot of cases, the only person we've learned we can rely on, is ourselves.  And we feel completely betrayed by the fact that we can't even rely on ourselves because when depression takes hold, you can't even rely on yourself to pull yourself out of it.

I have described the feeling to my husband, who sells flooring (carpet, etc), this way:  Imagine you have a bale of carpet (they weigh 100+pounds) that you are carrying around everywhere.  You can't put this bale of carpet down.  Not to eat, not to go to the bathroom, not to drive.  You have to carry this bale everywhere.  Imagine how exhausted you would be long before the end of the day.  THAT is depression.  In its most simplistic description. 

But not everyday is like that.  And now, having cut out the toxic relationships, having a job I love, friends I'm becoming closer to, and new friends, I have many fewer days where that black cloud - or bale of carpet - descend on me.

I just wish more people would talk - and I wish that "how are you?" was really an invitation to say exactly how you are.  I wish I could say to someone "I'm a little depressed today, but I'll be okay, thanks for asking."