Scary

Yesterday morning my blood platelet count was 1,000. For those of you who, like me before this week, have no idea what that means, I'll tell you this. Anything below 50,000 causes concern. What a 1,000 platelet count looks like is red dots all over the body, burst capillaries below the skin. Bruises that seem to come from no where. A mouth filled with blood blisters on the tongue, gums, and cheeks. Bleeding gums. Bloody nose.

The platelets are the part of the blood that help to create clots. They are yellowish and syrupy when taken away from the rest of the blood. I know this because I had a unit of them put into my body yesterday. When your platelets are low, your blood doesn't coagulate. With a platelet count as low as mine was, any cut could turn into a life threatening situation. A bump to the head with bleeding in the brain would mean death.

It all sounds quite dramatic and I haven't really let myself think about it until just now. I'm overwhelmed with a sense of what might have been and how lucky I am.

Sunday night I had a nose bleed that would quite stop. It wasn't gushing, but every time I blew my nose there was bright red blood on the tissue. Looking back, I remember one point in which I woke up feeling the blood trickling out my nose and jumping up to wipe it away before it could get on the sheets. I woke up Monday feeling sick to my stomach from all the blood I had ingested through post nasal drip. I felt as if I was bleeding out.

At my family doctor that morning they drew blood and told me to take it easy. We didn't know yet how low my count actually was. You know it's not good news when the doctor calls you the next morning at 7:20 as she's waking her children for school. They sent me that morning (Tuesday) to a hematologist who is also an oncologist and the appointment was in the cancer center. The journey I've been on these past few days has changed me. The work of caring for the sick is never finished. I don't know how health care professionals aren't swallowed whole by enormity of it all.

My low platelet count was triggered by an adverse reaction to an antibiotic (a sulpha) I was taking for an infected finger. The hematologist said they see one case like mine a year. He sent me across the parking lot to the hospital to get a unit of platelets. I had received the whole bag and was leaving the infusion center when my eye started to feel funny. I used the restroom before heading to my car and when I looked in the mirror I saw that my eyeballs were red and swollen, as if they had water blisters covering them. I immediately walked back to the infusion center and asked if it was normal to react like that. They promptly placed me in a wheelchair and wheeled me to the ER. I was having an allergic reaction to the proteins in the platelets. It happens 30% of the time.

Once in the ER they gave me Benadryl and steroids through my IV, which the infusion center had kindly left in my arm. Because of the low count, anytime my blood has been drawn, it's left a huge bruise. I will be getting platelet counts everyday this week and the infusion center asked the hematologist if they could just leave it in, since it's able to draw. So, I have a closed IV stuck in my arm for the next few days, but at least I'm spared getting stuck and bruised over and over.

Once they had administered the drugs they just monitored me for about an hour and let me go. Before I left, they told me that my count was 8,000.

This morning I had a count done and praise be, it was 34,000. I'm not out of the woods yet, but that number just looks so damn good to me today.

Honestly, today I feel the worst I've felt this whole time. I've had a terrible headache and nausea and my muscles ache all over as a side affect from the steroids they gave me yesterday. From what I've read it sounds like it takes about 24 hours for the symptoms to pass. Now, at 4:30, I'm feeling the best I have all day.

Because my of the way my job works, I have anywhere from 5-20 appointments with different people each day. So many of you already know some of this story as I've had to cancel our lessons. However, lots of you are near and dear to me, but whom I don't interact with on a weekly basis and I wanted to fill you in as well. If I haven't responded to an email or text, this is why.

Through all of this, I have been shown that I have an amazing village surrounding me. I can count  more than two hands of people that I can call to help out with kids or food or anything. And I did call many of you and you drove Ruby to school and took care of the kids so Aleks could meet me in the ER. The doctor husband of one of my friends came and sat with me in the ER when he finished his surgeries. So many kindnesses and offers of help make me realize that Wichita has become a home. I hope you all know I've got your back too.

I'm on the mend. I'm going to be ok. Thank you all for your prayers and love and support to me and my family.

Winter so far

Today is my day off and I've been excited about it since last night. People have been saying "that's great, it's like you have a three day weekend!" What any other musician understands is that we don't get the weekends off, so to have one whole day to myself is a gift. My plans for today include working out, writing, and practicing. So here we are.

The start of the new year has brought a change in mood. Things feel fresher and the promise of possibility is evident in the air. It could be that our unseasonably warm and dry winter has contributed to this difference. Whatever, the cause, I welcome it with open arms.

The girls started ballet last month and are loving every minute. Maia is quite perturbed that they can't stay for jazz and tap, which immediately follows ballet. They are so cute in their pink tights and blue leotards. There's just something about little girls and ballet that makes me so happy to have daughters. It's quite magical, actually.

Ruby is continuing swim lessons. She's fully proficient in the water and now they're working on things like side breathing and breast stroke. It amazes me at how she is so naturally physical and athletic. She's still intense and screams in agony when I brush her hair, but she's also maturing and is such a love.

Both girls are taking piano lessons now, with teachers other than myself. Maia's getting quite good and is adjusting to a new teaching style and teacher. I see firsthand how important it is for beginners to have fun with lessons so that they don't get burned out practicing early on. Her new teacher is more strict about the amount of practicing she wants, so we're continuing to find a balance. Ruby is very excited about starting lessons with Maia's old teacher through the university and being a "test subject" for piano pedagogy grad students.

Maia is having a great 1st grade year. The other day she came running in the house and said "I broke a world record!" She had scored 100% on her spelling pre-test and was very excited about it. I asked her if anyone else done that before and she sort of rolled her eyes and shook her head and said "Well, Will has, because, you know, he's so smart." Will is the Gilbert Blythe to Maia's Anne Shirley.

There's also been more interest and talk in our house about being in love and crushes. Maia came home with a love letter the other day, which was completely adorable. However, I don't think Aleks is quite ready for it all.

Ruby loves school as well. She doesn't love books as much as Maia, but she's reading beginning books and is a hard worker in the classroom. Ruby has always been more introspective and quiet in large groups, but this year she's opening up. She does this sweet thing of tucking her hair behind her ears when she's speaking in front of a group or to an adult audience. I'm sure its a comfort/coping thing for her in stressful situations. Whenever I see her do it, I'm simultaneously heartbroken (because it's hard to see your kid emotionally uncomfortable) and proud (because she figures out what she's trying to communicate and does it).

Maia really wanted to make a tiered cake, so we did. Aleks said "you're such a good mom." I just really like chocolate cake.

Aleks and I are as busy as ever with work and are feeling fulfilled. Aleks has taken on some leadership responsibilities in the School of Music this year and has really risen to the challenge. He's also been part of a leadership training program that takes place throughout the year and I love hearing him talk about all he's learning. My private studio is thriving and I've started a wait list. I discovered last semester that it's better to limit the studio size and feel sane, than to say yes whenever people ask. My WSU students are improving and keep me laughing. Seven of my music theater students went to a theater festival with WSU's production of Smoky Joe's and one of them won the top music theater award. I'm beyond proud to see them representing themselves and their training so well.

Over winter break I decided to try and finish the upstairs painting by tackling the hallway and stairwell. The hallway was easy, but the stairwell proved to be a challenge. 

We borrowed an extension ladder and cinder block from a friend and I almost got the whole thing primed before I discovered that to paint the tip top edges was scarier than I had thought. So, we ended up hiring someone to finish. It took 3 hours, looks beautiful, and was the best money we've spent in quite a while.

I couldn't get a good picture of it all completed. You'll just have to come over so I can show you!

Somehow it's February and Valentine's day is around the corner. Soon it'll be Easter and then finals. Hold onto your hats folks, it's a crazy ride!

Resolutions

I'm not typically a fan of New Year Resolutions. There's something that seems insincere about everyone, on the same day, resolving to change things about themselves. It's like we only do it because we're supposed to, not because we actually desire the change and are willing put in the hard work to get there.

That being said, this year I'm feeling the itch for change. And I think it's good to set goals and say things out loud, into the universe, so that we can be ready for whatever comes. And because I'm a bossy oldest child, I'm going to make my family participate as well. 

I'll start. 

This next year I want to be more purposeful in the things I do, which involves setting attainable, specific goals in all areas of my life while searching for the "why" that fuels everything I do. 

Aleks says he wants to finish the Louisville Ironman and to be more romantic. 

My mom wants to do the things she thinks are important, not the things she thinks other people think are important. 

Maia's is to stay healthy. 

Ruby wants to be with Campbell more (my brother Alex's dog).

My dad's New Year goal is to plan, enjoy, and remember a three week vacation. He's never taken that much time off before!

Matt wants to weigh less, own less, and want less. 

Audrey wants to play with toys. 

Cydney has 12 books she wants to read. 

Kodiak wants to gain some weight, sit up, crawl, eat solids, and learn to say a few words. He's already a man with ambition. 

Theo made some pirate and pirate ship sounds. 

 Happy New Year dear friends!

 

Miracles

Metaphorically speaking, this semester I've felt like a pot that's been filled with water and set on the stove to boil. With a full studio at the university, a growing private studio, church job, and grade school children starting extracurricular activities, the pot was filled to just below the brim. Further, due to an usually busy summer, in which I was single parenting most of the time while Aleks was training and painting as many surfaces in my house as possible, this fall the water was already at a simmer.

There's not one contributing factor that I can blame for the struggle I've felt in these last few months. A combination of trying to balance more than I am capable, not enough "off" time, and a consistent diet of frustration with excuse-filled students wore me down. Any unexpected setback, difficulty, or small challenge caused the pot to boil over.

I'm not typically a crier and I found myself in tears as I drove to work the first two weeks of the semester. The smallest triggers could set me off. Things such as, but not limited to:

Anyone asking "how are you?"
Not the customary "how's it going" that you say to everyone while expecting "good" in return, but the probing, thoughtful, what's going on below the surface "how are you?" would cause my throat to ache and eyes to fill. Once from a student who added "I just feel like I don't know what's going on in your life recently," once from Ruby's teacher, and once from a new colleague.

Anytime anyone did something remotely thoughtful.
I was teaching lesson while Aleks was out of town, and of course (Murphy's Law) Maia had no school and it was the morning, so I had both girls with me at work. I had bribed them with new lego sets and they were sitting on my office floor quietly putting them together. Another student of mine came to sit in on the lesson and brought a bag of Hershey's hugs with her. She quietly gave some to my kids while I continued teaching and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gently place two candies on my desk. That tiniest act of kindness pierced my heart and I had to swallow my tears as I tried to teach.

Emotional music theater songs.
A high school student of mine was singing "With You" from Ghost and the chord progressions with the melody set me off. I grabbed a tissue as my nose filled with snot and tears streamed down my cheeks, saying "I'm fine, I've just had a rough day, but I'm fine. Let's keep going." In truth, I cried through no less than 3 lessons this semester. You'd think I would have gotten more "how are yous" from concerned students, which would have just made it worse, but thankfully (?) no one inquired further.

Anytime I see videos of people publicly appreciating or getting into Hamilton/Lin Manuel Miranda.
There's just something about seeing this composer and performer being recognized and celebrated for his hard work that tugs at my heart strings. I think that the fellow artist in me is just rejoicing with his success. All the hard work and perpetual improvements we make don't always pay off in a way that is nationally applauded. It's nice to see it happen.

Getting a free massage.
Last year I decided to get a massage once a month. I have a private student whom I've decided is my "massage student" and their lesson fees pay for my monthly massage. In November, I excited the room relaxed and bleary eyed in the bright sunshine where my masseuse informed me that there was no charge for my massage that day. My eyes filled with tears and I gave her a big hug; the timing was uncanny. Apparently I had earned my free 12th massage after getting one a month for a year. I tried to pull it together as I scheduled my next one with the receptionist. To this day, I'm still embarrassed when I see her working the front desk.

Generally, what it all boiled down to, was a feeling of being under-appreciated. Anytime I asked a student to do something and they came in the next week with excuses as to why they hadn't done what I asked, it felt as if they didn't respect me. When private students cancelled the day of their lesson, it started to become hard to keep my cool. When things were sprung on me last minute, my ability to be flexible and accommodating was greatly reduced. The inept communication skills with some people left me banging my head on the wall, while over communication with others sent me into a tailspin. When it's one or two students who are making things tough, it can be managed, but when it's 10 or 15 (roughly 1/3 of my students), it starts to wear on a person.

There was a subtle shift in the perception of my situation during the last weekend of October. I went to NATS, which was held 5 hours away in Nebraska and made the trip alone. During the drive I listened to the soundtrack of Hamilton in its entirety. Twice. It was a weekend of singing competition and I was able to see teachers from other universities, most of whom I only get to see once a year. This time, more than any other, I was struck with how many of us voice teachers are in a similar position. Adjuncting at several universities, trying to raise a family, and be relevant as a performer. It's an understatement to say how good it was for me to see that. And to realize that maybe it's not so bad.

After that weekend I got rid of some extra baggage in my private studio and lowered my expectations for the college students. The water in my metaphorical pot reduced. I hired house cleaners. The water receded even further.

Fall semester is now over and I made the decision not to teach privately over the break. So five empty weeks stretch before me. I literally feel lighter and emptier. Of course there is still housework and volunteering at schools, the madness of the holidays, a church job, and parenting to keep me busy, but I will get a much needed break from the thing that requires the most energy and vast emotional investment.

Aleks and I watched Inside Out with the girls a few weeks ago. What a good reminder it was that without sadness there can be no joy. I know that this challenging season will serve me in the months to come. It will help give perspective and already has helped me to see what I have to be thankful for.

Coincidentally, this is the first year we celebrated Hannukah with the girls, a celebration of lights and miracles. As a result, I've been more mindful of the things that fill my life with wonder. I haven't seen one of those old testament, biggie miracles like oil lasting for 8 nights, but I do on a daily basis witness smaller, unconventional ones. Like when Ruby decides to roll over and go to sleep instead of throwing a tantrum because her sheets aren't warm yet. Or how my husband and I still like each other. Or anytime someone chooses to do the right thing, even though it might be hard.

Or kindness. Actually, I might consider that one of the biggies.

Thanksgiving 2015

Thanksgiving 2015 has come and gone.

The pie has been eaten and the leftover mashed potatoes are one day away from their final resting place in the garbage can.

In the aftermath of all the dishes and laundry, I'm left with an unexpected amount of gratitude.

For my husband who cooked the Thankgiving turkey in the rain. And who loves his family completely and without reservation.

For beautiful neices

and cousins who are friends.

For a father-in-law who installed a new dishwasher on the friday after Thanksgiving

and didn't complain when it took all day.

 

For moments that will be forever etched in my memory.

Each year it seems the stakes get higher and life gets more complicated. I am constantly reminded that there is little I control. The struggles of my friends and family weigh on my heart and in my mind. 

And yet, the heartache makes the gratitude possible. It illuminates the ordinary and helps us to appreciate convention.

 

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

May this spirit of gratitude carry us into the new year.

An open letter to my students

Dear Students,

We have just less than a month of the semester remaining. I thought it might be a good time to remind you of something that can get lost in the stress and busyness that seems to peak at this time.

I am on your team! I want you to succeed! I want you to be happy!

This semester has been weird. Many of us have been overwhelmed, tired, or burnt out more than we might usually be. It seems we started the semester exhausted, instead of refreshed and eager. But look at us! We pulled through. Here we are at the end, auditions and recitals and juries in sight.

You guys are doing awesome. I have pushed you and expected more from some of you than I have in the past. There has been more tension than usual in lessons. It hasn't been fun for either of us at times. However, you have stuck with it. You have persevered and are growing as singers, musicians, and young adults.

College is a hard. The classes can be challenging and time consuming. Many of you are putting yourselves through college, having to work before, after, and in-between classes to support yourselves. Furthermore, you are in this precarious place of having one foot in lingering childhood and one foot in approaching adulthood. I fully acknowledge that waking up to get to class on time is a huge victory. I also expect you to strive for the discipline that makes you get your butt out of bed on time each day.

Just like many of you, I supported myself through college. I taught piano lessons and had a church job all throughout my undergrad. I didn't have significant financial help from my parents. I didn't take out any loans, but relied on scholarships and work to get me by. I tell you this so that you know I understand what you are going through. I've been there and I'm on the other side in one piece, and happy!

This semester has been hard for me personally and professionally. I have questioned the practicality and worthiness of continuing work at WSU. I have felt alone and completely powerless in the face of your busy schedules. The teaching and learning that happens in my studio must be a collaboration between us and many times this semester I have felt that I was the only one showing up, ready to work. Without cooperation from you, there is only so much I can do. The work load must be split 50/50.

In today's society, we are often too overly concerned with outcomes. How we perform or the finished product is stressed as the most important thing. While I agree that a high quality finished product is essential, as an instructor at a liberal arts college, it is equally important to me that I help you to find a process and technique for your craft. Which is why so often in lessons I ask you "how was that different?" "how can you replicate that sound on your own?" or "what did that feel like?". I want you to know how to get to that finished product on your own. I want to help you to think critically and be curious about the process.

I care about you all so very much. My husband often tells me that he thinks I do not need to be as emotionally invested in my job as I am. However, you guys are the reason I stick around. The pay for an adjunct here at WSU is unconscionable. I tell you this to let you know how important to me you are. It's because of you that I've stuck with it.

I have everything to gain from you succeeding. Each well sung performance, audition, and job acquired is a win for me as well. With that in mind, everything I do and say in lessons is because I think it will help you become a better singer.

I am your biggest fan.

I can't do this alone. Let's push through and work hard, together, for these last few weeks. Show me that you care about the process. Let's strengthen your wings and get you to soar. What do you say? You guys in?

Yours,
Emily

Annual family pictures

Each October, as I run around in a panic to get my kids Halloween costumes and make spooky themed snacks for their school, I remember that Christmas is right around the corner and we need to get new family pictures taken.

For the past three years we've asked our friend Laurie to take the photos for us and each year I'm so so happy with what she is able to capture.

Here are some of the pictures that didn't make our holiday card.

When I asked Ruby how she got to be so good at posing she said, "ballet."

I'd like to point out that up to this point she has taken 5 days of ballet lessons. Can you imagine what proper weekly lessons would do?

Maia is just as adorable, but more reserved now that she's a big first grader. It's crazy to see how much her face is changing with those grownup teeth coming in.

Andover and Wichita are paving an old railway trail that runs east and west for about ten miles or so. It's a great place for pictures, but in my opinion, is also greatly improving the quality of life here. We have desperately needed more outdoor walking paths in this city.

Aleks handles all the women in his life so well.

Shortly after this Ruby started crying because Maia was squeezing her hand too hard. Big sisters are the worst (writes a big sister).

Happy Fall y'all!