Dear Donald Trump

Dear Donald Trump;

 

Congratulations on your new position as President of the United States. That is a big step up from reality TV.

But just like on TV: American is watching, and so is the rest of the world.

Congratulations on filling quite a few of your campaign promises only a week into office. This is something not many presidents have done so I applaud you for that.

Let’s talk about your first week in office shall we.

The very first press conference held by someone in your administration was by Sean Spicer and it was in regards to the crowd size turn out of your presidential inauguration.

Seriously?

You couldn’t think of any better way to have a ‘first’ press conference other than to whine about what people said about the crowd size?

Let me grab you a tissue.

On your first day, you signed an executive order to start the process of rolling back Obamacare. Obamacare is a way 20 million or more people have health care insurance in your country. You DID say you would ‘replace’ it, but I have personally read the order and it is very vague and there has been no mention as of yet what you would replace it with. This scares the millions of Americans under the Obamacare umbrella making them feel confused not knowing what their future holds.

But I think that is what you are going for.

You signed an order blocking US funding to all non-government organizations that provide abortions.

Let’s talk about that for a minute shall we.

Let’s pretend my name is Matilda. One night Matilda is walking home from a nice night out when she is attacked and raped in an alley by thugs. No, these thugs are not of Muslim decent either. They are white Caucasian males. I suffer a great deal of hurt, heartbreak and trauma over what has happened but find out a couple weeks later that I am pregnant by the thugs who raped me. This is a whole different level of trauma, hurt and despair. After much thought, I decide to have an abortion. I do not want to give birth to a baby where I do not know the fathers background, or be reminded of the scars of my rape for the rest of my life.

But I can’t.

I can’t because all the agencies that could have done this stopped receiving funding because of your executive order and they all closed so I am now forced to either give birth to this child which I don’t want, or give myself an abortion like the olden days.

Come on Trump this is grade school math.

You claim to be such a good businessman yet you claim this is good business? Come off it.

Now there is ‘your’ wall.

You say you want to crack down on illegals coming into the country because they cost the United States billions of dollars. Well that’s totally fair, needed and much appreciated. But you need to look at the whole picture here.

Why do these illegals come into the country illegally? I assume they already know before coming to the US that they know what they are doing is illegal so why do they chance it? What reasons could be so great that they choose to leave their country illegally, jump a border and come to America to try and make a life for themselves?

Think about it.

Then on top of all that, YOU think making a ‘wall’ across the USA/Mexico border will ‘help’ the issue. Will it not separate and divide countries more than bring them together to solve a bigger issue here at hand?

Food for thought Donald.

Now there is the executive order you signed two days ago.

YOU signed an executive order that banned USA admission for people from seven countries. Those countries being Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Syria, Sudan and Yemen for 90 days and suspending refugee admission for 120 days. YOU say this is to ‘protect the United States from Terrorism’.

Let’s talk about this shall we.

Let’s unfortunately bring up the worst case of terrorism in the history of the United States.

September 11th 2001. You know very well what I am talking about so I am not going to rehash the issue.

On September 27th 2001 the FBI released photos of the 19 hijackers along with information about their nationalities and aliases. The hijackers were from Saudi Arabia (fifteen hijackers), United Arab Emirates (two hijackers), Lebanon (one hijacker), and Egypt (one hijacker).

None of these countries are covered by your immigration ban so I ask you WHY?

Is it because you own real estate in some of these countries?

How does your ‘ban’ after looking at the statistics of terrorism in the United States help ‘protect’ the US?

Please explain where Muslims come into the picture here.

And finally, there is what you did last night.

You fired the ‘acting’ Attorney General of the United States because she upheld and chose to defend the United States Constitution. What was your purpose here? You cannot sit down and figure things out with her like the rest of the Presidents of the United States have done when upper level politics doesn’t agree with something they do?

Nope. You let your ego get in the way and think that just because she doesn’t support a policy of yours you can fire her.

Oh Donald. What a tangled web you have weaved and I fully expect it to get worse as well, as countries around the world unite with the people against you and your policies.

I am saddened that this is now America and this is what the people of America have to go through. My hearts breaks for each and every one of you.

We can only hope together that someday soon either this man comes to his senses or gets replaced.

#PrayForAmerica

The George

2016

2016

Just like quite a few people all over the world, the year 2016 for me has been disastrous.

But for me personally, 2016 has been the absolute worst year of my life. I dwell on it every day and can’t wait for it to end hoping that 2017 will bring brighter days.

I kicked off the first week of 2016 by getting arrested and not by choice. A child I worked with thought it was a good idea to try and get me in trouble by telling the police I assaulted him when I didn’t. But instead of the police conducting a proper investigation and maybe calling me to talk to me about the situation; they just showed up at work and took me away in handcuffs; with no evidence once so ever. I was suspended from work, not because I was in trouble or anything, but because of the nature of my work, they have to legally let the police investigation take its course which it did over the course of seven to eight weeks. My work did nothing wrong and were more supportive of me that I have ever seen but that doesn’t mean the stress of the whole situation didn’t take a toll on me. It did. I didn’t sleep many nights as my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about everything. I cried and paced around the house often. I even called my boss a few times crying. I was so stressed and so upset all the time. My brain was full of anxiety. Every time I heard sirens I thought they were coming for me. I was always watching my back wondering what was going to happen. I had a fear of the police at this point and still do. The whole situation really messed with my mind. I was arrested for something I didn’t do, and knew the police had no evidence yet they told me when I was interviewed they ‘knew’ I did it. I knew in my head they just told me that as a police ‘tactic’ to see if I would change my story during the investigation trying to ‘break’ me, but it really messed with me and my head. In the end, after I had taken a polygraph test and passed it, the child retracted his story and ultimately admitted that he made up the story to try and get me in trouble. But it was too late and all the damage had been done. My mind was so stressed that my family had decided to move back to Nova Scotia to try and make things work again as a family and even though I ‘knew’ in the back of my mind it wasn’t possibly, I was so stressed at the time that my mind was confused and thought I could make it work.

So, we moved back to Nova Scotia from Alberta. I drove our stuff across Canada, or I should say the stuff we had left after selling everything off. I was caught in a snow storm so was held up for a couple days but eventually made it. I did a lot of gardening in the spring and it game me lots of time to think. I looked into school but I would have cost me thousands of more dollars to go back. Same with my wife. EI would have paid for hers but the only courses she wanted to go into were closed. The current educational background wasn’t good enough to work in the province of Nova Scotia but that’s a whole different story for a different day. I couldn’t find decent work and was actually making more money off EI than I would have from getting a job so I just let it run out. Come May we were almost broke. We did some renovations to her parents’ house to try and make ourselves feel more comfortable and were going in the hole quick. The breaking point was when I had to reach into my daughter’s piggy bank for milk. That was it for me. I was broken hearted going to the store and when I returned I looked at my wife and said “30 days and we go back to Alberta. We cannot live like this”.  So, we started to plan once again. We had only been in Nova Scotia for two months. I broke my daughter’s hearts to. I have two daughters that live-in Nova Scotia and I made them feel like I was staying forever……only to leave again. It’s so hard for children to understand how life works for adults and I can only pray they later on in life they understand why I had to make some of the choices I did.

So back to Alberta we went. We had to stay with some friends until we got set up and Angel could find work. The economy in Alberta wasn’t good and Angel had already been without work for quite some time and she was depressed. I got a job back at my old workplace but as a youth care worker. I was a supervisor before but lost that position because I left. It eats at me all the time for making that decision however I am happy for the friend that got the position. He deserves it.

August was a tough one. In the beginning of August my daughter’s health was a bit well, ‘off’. She kept saying her stomach hurt. My wife sent me a text at work one day saying her urine smelled funny and that her breath smelled like rubbing alcohol. I knew what that meant. I just didn’t want to believe it. When I got home that day I watched my daughter, who was almost three years old at the time and noticed that she didn’t have a lot of energy and she was having trouble keeping herself up. Enough was enough. I had to take her to the hospital and face the inevitable in order to protect her. We went to the local hospital and they tested her blood sugar. 24.9 they said. I didn’t know if that was normal or not so I asked what they meant. The nurse stated that ‘normal’ was considered between 5 and 10. ‘Oh’ I stated. They were certain she had diabetes and sent us at midnight to the local children’s hospital for my daughter to be admitted. I was so scared and worried and had to face this beast all on my own. Coincidently my wife had her first day at a new job the next day and we couldn’t afford to have her call in sick her first day of work and possibly lose a good job we both knew she needed. So, I told her to stay home and go to work while I went to stay with my daughter at the hospital. I can’t imagine what was even going through my wife’s mind as my mind was a mess in itself. We got to the hospital around 1230am and were admitted right away. They put IV’s in both my daughter’s arms and I could tell she had no energy because she didn’t even fight the needles off. She was very quickly diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I was so hurt and scared for my daughter. I cried in front of the doctors thinking I did something wrong. I felt so bad for her. After 36 hours of being awake and in the hospital, we were sent home. I had to bring her back every day that week and go through educational sessions on how to take care of her, learn about diabetes and how to manage it. At the end of the week we were sent on our way back home for the last time, and we were left to ourselves to now help my three-year-old daughter survive with Type 1 diabetes. Our days are now filled with checking her blood sugar numerous times, giving her insulin twice a day, managing how many carbs she intakes and being scared to death that at some point she is going to drop too low and will go unconscious.

However, August wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. My family doctor had booked me in for a Colonoscopy for the middle of August as I was having quite a bit of stomach pain and Diarrhea. He was almost certain it was irritable bowel disease and he explained that it was easily managed. On the operation table I spoke to the performing doctor about signs and symptoms and he too said himself it sounded like IBD. So, I was given the knock out medicine and put under and felt like I awoke in seconds. But when I came to, and the doctor spoke with me, it seemed to be a whole new ball game. Moderate to severe Crohn’s Disease. I wasn’t really sure what that was but he stated he had to give me a prescription and paper work and to see him again in a few weeks. I immediately went on Google searching everything I could. Chronic pain and inflammation of the intestines and bowel. If it gets worse I could have my intestines and bowel removed. Wonderful. Along with that it causes extreme fatigue and skin issues which I was already experiencing among other things. I was always so tired and now I knew why. This all stresses me out and scares me to death. I don’t want surgery for anything let alone to get parts of me removed. I can’t afford to be off work and neither can my family.

My family and I now try and manage my daughter’s diabetes, my Crohn’s disease, along with our finances trying to get back on track financially after two moves across the country. I am super depressed, always have anxiety and stress and it effects my behavior. I’ve been making mistakes I’m not proud of, and seem to get angry over the smallest things. We just made it through Christmas and I didn’t even have any Christmas spirit this year and didn’t enjoy it. That’s off for me because I am usually a huge fan of Christmas and count the days all year.

This year I faked it.

Sometimes when you look at a person they may look OK on the outside, but the inside may be totally different and that’s where I am. I am self-conscious about my Crohn’s and everything that comes with it. I worry what people think about these blemishes on my skin. I get stomach pain at work and just push through it for the sake of my family and know that my daughter’s health benefits rely on me being at work.

I can try and be hopeful of this new year but due to the past year’s circumstances, I feel like there is nothing good to come of anything.

Life

Life.

What is this thing we call life and what are we supposed to do with it? Are we supposed to measure our success by the many times we succeed or do we compare our failures to others and move on?

How do we live a full life and what is the definition of living a ‘full’ life?

I don’t think anyone really knows the ‘true’ definition.

Last Christmas I stood in the checkout line of Walmart with a few groceries. My wife was laid off and I didn’t have that much money. The elderly lady in front of me was having a hard time paying for her items. She kept getting the cashier to take off a few items and then would try and swipe her debit card again to see if she had the money. She was declined every time. After the third try, I gave my wife a look, walked over, and asked the cashier to put all of the lady’s items through and I paid for all of it. No I didn’t really have the money, but it was worth seeing the wonderful look on that Lady’s face. I know by doing what I did, how I must have made her feel. She thanked me quite a few times and smiled.

I know I made her Christmas. That’s what I was going for.

This is the type of person that I am. I wear my hear on my sleeve on a daily basis and I will continue to do so until the end of time. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone through the Tim Hortons Drive Through and paid for the people behind me and just drove away.

I work as a youth care worker. I do this wanting to give back to kids who are in situations that I used to be in. You can read all about it in my last blog. I work with abused, neglected and aggressive kids. I try and shed some light at the end of their tunnel and try and give them hope for the future. I love my job. It’s what I do and probably the only thing I’m good at.

In my last blog, I wrote about life, and how crappy life’s been for my family this year.

Well, at the time of writing; life wasn’t yet done punching me in the face.

On August 17th, I was diagnosed with moderate to severe Cronhs Disease. I’m still learning about it and it’s a process. From what I gather, It’s a permanent bacterial infection of the colon, and intestines that causes swelling and pain. The doctor has only given me a short amount of time to try and get it under control before I have to have surgery to remove my intestines.

This is stressful and I’ve just about had it.

Enough is enough 2016.

I’m done now.

You can leave me alone anytime.

We’re staying in Alberta with friends of ours. God love them for letting us stay here but there is not a lot of room here for us. They need their own space and we need ours. They want to move out into a smaller place for themselves and we don’t have much time left. I’ve moved a lot over the last year and need a place for my family that is kid friendly and stable. We need it for our health. My wife just started a new job at the beginning of August, but already her hours are getting cut back and it doesn’t look good. The economy here in Alberta has not been doing well for quite some time. Were scared to move out and sign a lease somewhere because if she gets laid off then were stuck with a place we cannot afford to pay for. I feel like we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. On top of that, we have no furniture or anything and would be starting out fresh. I pay almost 800 a month in child support for my children back home and pay 700 a month for a car payment. I don’t make enough money to do all of this on my own. My wife’s a worker. She loves working and loves doing what she does and it is not her fault that she cannot find work. I don’t blame her. The situation itself is just frustrating.

I feel like I’ve been on the brink of a break down for a few days now. I can constantly feel myself wanting to break down and cry. The frustration is building and I am worried for my family and our future. We don’t have any other places to stay and I feel stuck.

2016 has been a bitch.

This leads me to my ‘Go Fund Me’ page I started yesterday. I am looking to try and help raise money for the down payment of a house for my family. I am hoping people know how much I wear my heart on my sleeve, and would be willing to help my family out for once. I did this because I feel as if I don’t have many options left and don’t know what to do. I’ve lived in apartments before, but they all seem to be surrounded with domestic violence issues and murders. This is not healthy for my family. Especially my 3 years old little peanut.

At the time I am writing this blog, there are 407 views on the ‘Go Fund me’ page, 17 ‘shares’, and absolutely no donations so I am not going to get my hopes up.

The only thing I hope for is a stable, safe environment for my family.

Thank you for taking the time for reading my blogs and letting me vent. Writing helps me get out some of my frustrations. I’ve always enjoyed writing.

The link for the ‘Go Fund Me’ Page is here – gofund.me/2m8ug7g

Please copy and paste it into your browser and have a look. Please share it if you can to share my story.

Maybe next time I write, I’ll be able to write about something more positive.

I hope so………..

gofund.me/2m8ug7g

How I do Where I From

This is the first ‘blog’ I will commit to. My own. I feel like I have a lot to say. I feel like I have a lot inside that needs to get out. So what a more fitting way to present these topics then to create my own blog site. Sounds like a wonderful experience. For some it will be. Others; not so much. When I decided I would do this, I decided to lay it all on the line and put everything out there. One can only make change for the better if one speaks up and stands one’s ground. This one will do that. If you know me, you know that I always ‘call it like I see it’ and I will continue to do this until the end of time. This doesn’t mean I’m being harsh or mean, this just means I look at the evidence and explain a situation as to my perspective. Everyone has a different perspective and my explanations of happenings are mine and only mine. I will write in my own language. The way I speak is how I will continue to tell this story. It will be filled with curse words and profanities. So if that is not your cup of tea, turn away now. I may insult you. If you feel insulted, please feel free to pick your coat up in coat check and not let the door hit you where the good lord split you. If you feel insulted, there may be a good reason for this so please feel free to look inside yourself and have the real doucebag please stand up. My teacher told me once that I may have ‘mastered’ the art of putting someone in their place ‘professionally’. I will try and hold myself to this standard but keep in mind it will not always be possible. That being said, lets skip the intro and get right into this. Let’s start from the beginning. I will explain to the many who don’t know me, how I came to be and try to let them feel how I feel and see what I see. It’s important to me to try and keep my readers engaged, and wanting more so let’s have at it.

#ShallWeBegin

When I was five years old, my father decided that throwing me on the floor and breaking my leg was a good idea for discipline. Then he lied about it. And tried to get me to lie about it too. But doctors are smarter than meets the eye so a few days later the Department of Community Services showed up at my door.

Enter the world of ‘The System’. This begins my 14 years in and out of foster homes, group homes and facilities.

You see, when I went to foster home #1, apparently an in home family worker went to work with my parents to try and make things better. There is no evidence of this, this is just what I heard. Once things would get better a small bit, I started going for visits at home and eventually I moved back home. This went on for years. I would get moved home. Something would break down again, and then I would get moved back to a foster home. Repeat. I can’t tell you how many times this happened as it is too many.

Question #1: Why did the Department of Community Services do this so many times and let it go on for so long?

Answer: I don’t have one.

Definition: Foster Home: Foster care is a system in which a minor has been placed into a ward, group home, or private home of a certified caregiver, referred to as a “foster parent”. The placement of the child is normally arranged through the government or a social service agency. This could be due to reasons such as child abuse or neglect in the biological family home.

Foster parents are supposed to care for the child, take care of them, and try and help them through some of the issues they have. They are supposed to provide and safe, happy, and stable environment.

However, my first, foster home: not so much.

Trauma.

Trauma can affect the human body and mind in many different ways.

Definition of Trauma: A deeply distressing or disturbing experience. A personal trauma like the death of a child. Emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis.

So I think its safe to say that being physically abused by my father and being taken to a stranger’s home to live, is a traumatizing experience. So my body reacted to this experience and I started to ‘pee’ the bed. But instead of caring for me and helping me through the issues that present, instead the foster parents thought it was a good idea to discipline me some more by making me stand in a corner. And no, I don’t mean for a minute. I mean for quite a long time. Long enough to make my knees weak and have me begging and crying for them to let me out before I fell over.

Question #2: Why are foster parents not better screened to ensure the well being and safety of children?

Answer: I don’t have one.

I was moved from home to home for years. In and out, back and forth. Up until I was about 12 years old. Then my parents decided to sign over their parental rights for me and hand them over to the government. I was called a ‘Ward of the court’. Great title eh?

Through the years I met good foster parents, and not so good foster parents.

Until I was at a teenage age where foster parent’s kind of ‘shied’ away from as they like to take care of smaller kids where they have a greater chance of making ‘change’ and behaviors have no fully settled in. At this time, I entered ‘Group Care’. Group homes and facilities. A huge place filled with kids, rules, expectations, staff and program to try and house kids and manage behaviors. Even though some of these places were considered ‘Treatment Facilities’, there was not much ‘treatment’.

On top of learning new negative behaviors from the other kids, and being a ‘Negative Nancy’ myself, I spent a lot of time going for walks by myself. I would always try and get a couple smokes from stranger on the street, go down to the water front and just ‘watch’ people. I would watch their behaviors and how they ‘carry’ themselves. Watch how they interact with others. This is where I began to learn how to ‘read’ people. I got very good at reading emotions, expressions and gestures and I used this to try and tell when people were lying to me.

Fast forward quite a bit.

I was homeless for a while. I chose, to sleep in graveyards, abandoned apartments and stairwells, because I no longer enjoyed the group living lifestyle, rules and expectations.

I ended up living in a rooming house at the age of 17, which was paid for by the government. There were lots of drugs in this house, and it was pretty run down. It was run by a ‘slum lord’. Same thing with the building next to me. The government refused to pay anymore than a coupe hundred a month for rent, so this is all I could get.

Then, I ‘aged’ out when I turned 19 years old. This means, that because I wasn’t going to school, (Because I was working to make money for food), they released me from their care. Just a sweet little letter in the mail telling me I was fully on my own. For the next few years I went job to job, and lived in house to house trying to make ends meet. I even travelled to Alberta for work. Had a couple kids. But life never really settled in for me.

Then when I was 28, I decided to go back to school and take a Child and Youth Care program. I did this to see if I could work in the system, and try to give back to other kids who were in situations I used to be in. I also knew what was wrong with ‘The System’, so I wanted to see if I could make some positive changes. Only thing is, is I didn’t know if the system would accept me, or decline me, because I used to be a client. I started school, and began telling my story to others. Others seemed proud of me and proud I decided to do this work. I got my first job in a place I was a resident in, but one of the supervisors didn’t make me feel to welcome. Then I got another job, and another one. Soon I had around five jobs in the system. To gain experience, but also to make some money. In a lot of the placed I worked for, there was no treatment of programming. Kids were allowed to do as they wish on a day to day basis, and there wasn’t much ‘Therapy’, so it didn’t seem as if things would get better for these kids. I got a job at a big Youth Center at one point. Another one that I used to be a resident in. I figured I knew both sides of the tracks so I could bring some real useful insight to the table. However, at this place, I really didn’t feel welcome. There was an elephant in the room anytime I went to work. And even the Executive Director posted a question in a forum on a youth care website, wondering other people’s opinions about hiring past residents. It seemed like he himself wasn’t too sure about his decision to hire me.

I wanted better for myself, and knew I was capable of being an amazing youth care worker, so I quit all the jobs and went back to Alberta. I began working as a Youth Care Worker at a treatment facility on a ranch, and could not ask for anything better. I worked so hard, that I became a supervisor in just 7 months. I learned a lot, and helped quite a few kids. Even if I help just one child in my lifetime, my goal is complete. I was a supervisor for two and a half years.

My biological mother passed away two years ago while I was here in Alberta. I miss her. I’ve keep in slight contact with her over the years. She lived in a group home and lived her life as a low functioning woman with mental health issues. I’ve always wished I could have apologized to her for what I put her through as a child. I know its not really her fault and I forgive her. But now, I’ll never have the chance. I helped pay for her funeral and cremation as I didn’t have enough money to make it back home for the actual funeral. I had her shipped out, and I laid her to rest in a place she would have enjoyed seeing.

Then; ‘It’ happened.

On the evening of January 8th 2016, I was arrested at work for assault with a weapon. I was informed of my rights and taken to the local RCMP station in handcuffs. I was informed that a child from my work place had filed a complaint with the RCMP that I assaulted him with a lighter by burning his arm. This was a child who knew me well and did not like me at all. This was due to me always putting a stop to him brining contraband to ranch, and him getting quite a few consequences from me for doing things that he should not. I had never been arrested before, so I decided to use my right to call a lawyer. The lawyer on the phone asked me what the charge was and I told him. The lawyer told me not to say anything because the officers might try and use it against me. So I listened to the lawyer. I told the officers I would not give a statement unless a lawyer was present. But they continued to try and ask me questions anyway. Each time I gave the same response. ‘With a lawyer’. Its not that I didn’t want to help the cops don’t get me wrong. I didn’t do anything to this kid, so I would have loved to have just helped out that night, clear my name and be gone with it. But I’ve seen enough cop shows to know that ‘some’ police officers are not very nice so I wanted to make sure I just followed the law and everything within my rights. After a couple hours I was released. I went home, called my bosses, and got a lawyer the next day. I was off work for 7 weeks due to the investigation. I eventually ended up passing a polygraph test, and due to this, the child admitted that he made up the story to get me in trouble because he didn’t like me. That child is now being charged with ‘Public nuisance’, because he wasted everyone’s time and resources.

The whole debacle had me so stressed out I quit my job and moved back to Nova Scotia. This was along with my wife being stressed about now having a job for so long and us not knowing what to do financially. So we sold everything and left.

Once back in NS, we did some renovations, spent time with family and had some fun. But something was amiss and something was missing. Alberta. We missed it. After we went through finances and job prospects to see there actually was none, we both realized we jumped the gun and made the mistake of going back to NS. We missed our Alberta friends and I missed my job. So after only two months in NS, we sold everything again, pack up and went back to Alberta. We ended up staying with friends until we got settled.

I started have really bad stomach pains a few weeks in. The doctor informally diagnosed me with Inflammatory Bowel Disease and explained I may have to get some of my intestines removed. I sit here in pain every day.

I am no longer a Supervisor at work. A good friend of mine got the position. It was filled while I was gone. I miss my post but now work as a Child and Youth Care Worker.

Another terrible thing is in the works but I cannot mention it yet.

Last week my wife secured a full time job so that’s a good thing. Now if we can save some money we can move back to our old neighborhood. Only thing that sucks is that were starting from scratch and don’t have anything.

This leads us to Sunday July 31 2016.

The evening my daughter started to crash was a scary one. I had no idea what was going on, but in my gut; well my gut knew and I don’t think I wanted to accept it. All the signs were there and had been for a while. Drinking an overabundance of liquid every day and filling her diapers with urine to the point they over flow. And this would be within an hour. She was not herself and I could tell. I just didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to freak my wife out, and didn’t want to think about it myself. I just did my job as a parent, and as the person I am. I sat back; and I watched. I paid attention to see where this was going to go. After a week of this, on a Sunday, my wife sent me a text I didn’t want to get. ‘Her breath smells like rubbing alcohol’. I knew what that meant. It was just another sign. I got the same text on Monday. But when I got home from work, things were different. I noticed my daughter was ‘trying’, to watch videos on her tablet. She would stand for a minute, and then roll around on the floor. After a few times of her doing this I realized she was having trouble standing up and had no energy. I paced around the house watching her. I contemplated waiting until tomorrow to take her to the family doctor or taking her to the hospital today. Part of me was worried about what the doctors were going to say. I didn’t want to hear it but; Enough was enough. I had to take her in. Regardless of what they told me, my job was to protect her. I am her father. So in to the hospital we went. We explained symptoms and after a few minutes a nurse came in to do a blood, sugar test. 24.9 I thought that was normal. Until they said that normal was between 4 and 8. Followed by a urine sample that confirmed she was chocked full of ketones. We were being admitted right away. Confirmed. Two IV’s for the night and a lot of tests. I was upset, scared, and so many other emotions I can’t even explain.

I was awake for 36 hours.

After all the tests; she was diagnosed with Type 1, and we were discharged. We were asked to come back every morning all week, to get educated on diabetes. Every day, all week, I learned about blood sugars, carbs, health, insulin, and checks. There was lots to learn and I was taking in as much as I could. Then on Friday, that was it. We were given emergency numbers, a boost of confidence, and we were on our way. My days are now filled with blood sugar checks, giving my little on insulin twice a day, counting her carbs and sugar at every meal and snack.

But yet, I cannot imagine what it feels like to be her. She’s the one getting poked all the time. She is the one that can’t eat what she used to. She’s the one that went through this whole experience, and now her life is flipped, turned upside down.

People I know far and wide sent their ‘apologies’ for this happening. My response was simple.

Please don’t be ‘sorry’ for me, Taylor, or my family. We are all fine. She is fine. Diabetes is only a tough lifestyle change that everyone has to get used to. She is still the same child with the same personality.

And I love her more today that I did yesterday.

I think its safe to say this year has been a piece if shit to me and my family and I don’t know why. A lot of terrible things have happened. Part of me feels like a higher power has it out for me.

I’ve been super depressed this year and this is my first mention of it. I push through as best I can. I do it for my family, friends, and my work. I just want everyone to be happy, safe and thankful for what they have. I am super busy everyday, have almost no time to myself, and work to live. I know people would say ‘But you have to take care of yourself’, but I don’t see anyways to do so. There is never enough time in a day where I can even find time for myself. I work and have a family.

I want to strive to help others, kids, and families in positions I used to be in. I would like to gain my supervisor position back someday at work. I wish a good happy and healthy life for my children and my family. I wish to travel the world someday and have a permanent place we can call home here in Alberta.

I just want the best for everyone.

I put all my cares aside for the needs of others. It’s who I am. It’s what I do.

And I will continue to do so until the end of time.

I hope you enjoyed my first blog.

Much love,

The George