No problems

Vegetarian Times, Feb, 2006 by Val Weaver

Do you kvetch a lot? I do. Usually because half of life's chores have to be done twice. You know the drill: You take your car/computer/call phone in for service, it costs the moon and the next day you have to go back because it still isn't right.

It makes me crazy. Listening to myself complain also makes me crazy, yet I can't shut up. I want to rant about the latest idiocy and I want somebody to listen. And yes, I listen patiently to friends' traumas and dramas, though of course they're not nearly as interesting as mine.

But inevitably, one day I get a reality check. Katrina did that, reminding me--again--that I have nothing to kvetch about. And that TV-filtered experience was nothing compared to the real story of the Katrina family that VT is (yes, finally!) adopting. Read this:

"The hurricane hit on August 29, but my story really starts on August 6, when I went for a bike ride. At a crossing, I put my left leg down for balance and suddenly it lost all feeling. I fell into the street. For the rest of the weekend my leg acted oddly. On Monday, it did the cancan on its own. So I went to the ER. During the three-hour wait, I began to think that they would tell me it was all in my head. They did: After an MRI, the doctors said I had a brain tumor and couldn't leave the hospital until I had brain surgery. (Have you ever tried to get a vegetarian meal in a hospital?)

I left, because first I had to get 24-hour coverage for my 13-year-old daughter, Ashley, who was born with a "smooth brain,'a condition that causes severe mental and physical problems. I couldn't have the surgery until August 12, and it turned out that I had a pretty aggressive form of brain cancer.

Five days later I walked out of the hospital. I was scheduled to begin radiation the day after Labor Day. Well, we had a visitor named Katrina right before Labor Day.

On Saturday, the forecast was frightening. I packed up Ashley, our mixed-breed puppy, Puffin, and drove to a friend's home in Breaux Bridge, a little inland Louisiana town near Lafayette.

Now, you may realize that two weeks after brain surgery I wasn't medically cleared to drive. But I also wasn't medically cleared to swim ... so I drove.

Fortunately, I found great oncologists in Lafayette and started radiation. But my job vanished along with much of the Gulf Coast. Luckily, I got some short-term work to tide me over.

Katrina started us on a new life in Breaux Bridge. I'm looking for job in the area, Ashley and I are buying a little cottage and Puffin loves the country/I fully intend to beat the diagnosis, but I need to pay off the special lift van that I have for Ashley and be sure that she can afford the cottage on her SSI [Supplemental Security Income] if something happens to me.

Thank you for letting me tell my story--

Sharyn Scheyd

Were you about to complain about the slow pizza delivery, the price of gas, the reception on your cell phone? Neither was I.

Val Weaver