My Courageous Sisters

My sisters are all so incredibly courageous.

Frequent visitors to this blog know that my sister Chris has a million things wrong with her, including the fact that she hasn't taken food by mouth in at least three? four? ten years? She's allergic to a million everyday things that make simple excursions -- like going to a restaurant, grocery shopping or visiting highway service centres to pee -- into life-or-death risks of anaphylaxis. She hooks up to several IVs every day - you should have seen the looks (no, stares) we got when we hooked her IV bag to the passenger seat sun visor for our trip home from Michigan a few weeks ago. She has incredible energy, even though she's losing her strength. She's the loving mother of two extraordinary teens, a wife, sister, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, cousin, friend, neighbour -- and she never lets anyone know (except perhaps her nurse) how shitty she really feels. She's the bravest, most courageous, generous person I know. I want to be like her when I grow up.

Recent visitors may know that my sister Roni has been diagnosed with breast cancer. She'll be operated on this Friday. We know for certain that she'll require at least 25 chemotherapy treatments and then radiation. She's 41 years old. Like Chris, Roni is an inspiring woman. She's intelligent, funny, committed, passionate about social justice (and injustice). She's an amazing and talented writer, the loving mother of three extraordinary teens, a wife, sister, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, cousin, friend, neighbour AND the executive director of an incredible and important not-for-profit agency. Shannon and I spent this evening with Roni, her family and many of her children's friends. Roni has incredible energy, great plans for the future and tremendous courage.

My sister Lori moved with her family to Indiana just over two years ago. That takes courage, I'll tell ya! She's gone from seeing us, her family, oh, maybe 10 times a week to seeing everyone, maybe, 3 times a year. I think it's the best thing she could ever have done for her children and her relationship with her husband. Lori looks the best she has looked in the past 15+ years. She's beautiful, strong, independent, and assertive. Like Chris and Roni, Lori is the loving mother of two extraordinary children (one a teen), a wife, sister, daughter, sister-in-law, cousin, friend, neighbour and volunteer with her children's schools and activities. Lori never writes or calls just to complain -- although I know how much she misses us is directly proportionate to the amount of baking she does!

Me? I get a headache and I'm in bed for the rest of the day. I cut my finger and have to avoid strenuous activity for a week. I hurt my leg climbing a ladder and you would have thought I had shrapnel wounds, the bandages were so dramatic.

I don't have the courage to not eat, fight cancer, raise more than one child, or move far from home. I'm not at all brave or courageous. In fact, I'm really quite ashamed of the whiner that I am.

But I think I know where I fit in here: if one of my sisters needs me, I'm there.

No questions asked, no job too rotten, no trip too long. I may not have the energy to weed my own garden, clean my own bathroom, tie my own scarves -- but Sisters, if you need me, I am there for you.

More Evidence the World is Cruel to My Sister Chris

My sister Chris has gastroparesis. Among a host of other life-challenging health problems, she is also deathly allergic to mushrooms, coconut, latex, pineapple, kiwi, cats and all nuts. In fact, most of her allergies are air-borne, meaning if she is exposed to nut proteins in the air she will immediately have an anaphylactic reaction, requiring emergency use of an epi-pen and a trip to the hospital. Something as simple as shopping for the rest of us can be deadly to Chris. Within the past year she has almost died at Future Shop (they were having a bake sale to support a community group inside the vestibule; someone had baked with nuts) and Shopper's Home Health (a specialty store within the Shopper's Drug Mart brand, where ~ ironically ~ she went to purchase latex-free bandages only to walk into the store and find a large latex balloon bouquet!).

But here is the ultimate irony.

Chris entered a contest. She forgets what the contest actually was or which company was sponsoring it, but I imagine that she hoped to win $50,000, a new car or perhaps a trip to the Grand Canyon.

A few weeks ago she received a telephone call notifying her that she had won a consolation prize: 48 Oh Henry chocolate bars.

Doesn't sound so bad, does it? But what's the #2 ingredient in an Oh Henry bar after chocolate? NUTS!

Chris declined to accept the prize. She advised the caller that she was deathly allergic to nuts and asked him to award the prize to someone else. "We can't do that," he told her. "The rules clearly state that prizes must be accepted as awarded."

"But accepting your prize could kill me," she warned. "Can't you take it home or hand them out to the people you work with? What if I fax you a signed affidavit releasing you from any obligation to give me the prize?"

Nope. Not negotiable.

Let's presume that she had provided her address when she entered the contest and that's also why she couldn't have the box of chocolate bars sent to someone else's house (pick me!) ---

She told him to send the prize package via courier without a signature and to advise the delivery company to leave it on the front porch. She couldn't leave her house until her husband came home from work and moved the box to the trunk of his car. The next day he took 48 Oh Henry bars to his office and shared them with his grateful co-workers.

Chris, I'm sorry I laughed so very hard when you told me this story. The irony, the cruelty, the absurdity of it all kills me.