Bonnievale worse than Hillbrow?

I heard some stories today about life in Bonnievale... horrific stories. Granted, it's hearsay, 3rd hand information, but the quote that stuck with me is that someone in power in the boxing world said he'd recently run a trial event with the youth in Bonnievale, and the aggression he saw there was worse than in Hillbrow.

With the recent death of a 6yr old, it would seem that things in Bonnievale are almost ready to boil over. Drugs is HUGE amongst kids. One 74yr old is working hard to change things there. She's got a programme going for pre-school kids, as well as for teenagers. Apparently, she told my source that many of the 18 yr olds she was working with did not even know what a toothbrush is for!!!

I don't really have many details, but I've asked for them. If even HALF of what I was told today is true, then Bonnievale is in desperate need, and I can't stand by and do nothing. I don't know what to do, but I know some people who might. I know my sleep will be troubled tonight, no doubts about that.

Losing my marbles?

It's happening. I'm getting old. Yup, no doubt about it.

In the past 2 weeks I have got lost twice, forgotten umpteen things, and.... darn! Now I can't remember the other thing I wanted to tell you. It feels like it was important.

Oh well, it'll come to me at some point.

Now I'm not normally someone who gets lost. I'm a together, competent, capable woman. But I usually rely quite heavily on common sense. e.g. There's no need to take a copy of the email with me that tells me which room we'll be meeting in at the venue, cos there'll be someone at reception to help me, except... there isn't. Blast!

or what about - I won't bother looking it up in a map book, cos I have my phone GPS with me - except that it loses signal and can't re-establish it. Blast! (and I don't have a map book in the car cos I'm in hubby's car, not mine...)

There are two conclusions one can draw from all this (not just the getting lost bits):
1) I'm getting old.
2) I'm so stressed and tired my brain can't keep up with me.
3) I'm losing my common sense.
4) All of the above.

So which is it??? Straw poll says... ? (See poll at the top of the sidebar (it will only remain there for 6 days, so vote NOW.)

Slaan my dood

You know how you take certain things for granted in your life? There are just some things that are, that always will be. There are just some things that could never in a million years take place. You know those things? Well, the truth is, there are no such things. Never take anything for granted. Ever.

I have always adored my eldest brother. He was my saviour when I was a little girl. He birthed a dream in me to teach Bio. He was my model for excellent parenting and a solid marriage.

Yesterday I found out that my amazing, incredible, caring, wonderful brother and his wife are splitting up. Now I know that kids from divorced families are under a curse and will also go through divorce, but I really, truly believed that he and his wife had broken that curse and moved out of its reach. I never in a million years would EVER have dreamed that their relationship could break down to this extent.

Of course, they're not getting divorced yet. There's still hope. But the fact is that my world was severely shaken this weekend. They've been married for over 20 years. TWENTY YEARS. It just goes to show that at no stage is a marriage ever 'safe'. At no stage can you sit back, relax and think that your marriage is going to make it. You have to work at it every day of every year that you are married.

I don't know the reasons behind this, and I'm not sure I care to. My brother has taken on a large portion of responsibility for the break down. However, comments have been made today that have completely confused me. Has my brother been living a double life? Is his wife making up stories to get back at our family? Because I don't know the truth of the situation, I can't judge either of them. I know that it usually takes two people to make a marriage fail (not always, but usually), so I can't just support his wife. He's also my brother, and he taught me that family ALWAYS sticks together - through thick and thin.

You know - sin destroys. It destroys not just the person who sins, but all the people around them. In this case, it's in the process of destroying a marriage, a family, and all the extended family as well. In one sense, I feel I have a right to know the details. But knowledge is power and with that comes responsibility. To be honest, I'm not sure I want either the power or the responsibility. I'm not sure that I won't be tempted to judge both my brother and his wife, and that's not really my place - even if I was able to get the full truth rather than just their individual versions of the truth.

I love my brother deeply. There's almost nothing I wouldn't do for him. He's the guardian of my children because I honour and respect him and trust him so completely.

So now what?

Times opinion

You may or may not have read the Sunday Times article on the 18th Oct about the Top 100 schools in SA. I only bought the paper because someone commented to me about the article and I wanted to see which schools had 'made' it. When I read the criteria, though, for how the schools were decided upon, I became more and more incensed.

Time to 'fess up: I only became more and more incensed because I realised that the school at which I teach will NEVER make the list. I believe it should be on the list. It's a pretty phenomenal school. But this rather personal gripe got me thinking, and the more I thought, the more I realised how biased The Times' approach was.

Being me, I got all hot under the collar about it, so I decided to write to the Times and give them an earful. Well, they published it. Granted, they edited it somewhat, but the essence of what I wanted to say is there - I think they did a good job of retaining the essence, even if they lost the meat.

Thus far, I've only had good reviews. That doesn't mean to say it's a really good piece, but it's still nice! (I love having a fan club!!) It's also nice hearing from people who's opinions I respect, saying they agree with me.

So - I can now say I'm a published author. How's that for cool?

Ding ding: Round 2

It's been the busiest time of my life. I don't EVER recall working this hard before. But I've (mostly) enjoyed it. This weekend marks the end (please, God!) of the frantic busyness, because by the end of tonight I will finally be UP TO DATE with my marking.

Of course, just in time for things to start falling apart again with Laities - there are real problems with the waterproof wraps... but I'll get it sorted, even if it means moving heaven and earth (again, it feels like!).

We've had a lovely weekend as a result - because I've been able to relax and enjoy my time off with family, without getting stressed about the work I ought to be doing.

We've started going to a 'new' church the last 2 weeks, to just check it out, and I've SOOO loved the worship. Even though I've been going with Janel to her group, just being able to take part in worship again has been such a breath of fresh air. I wish Graeme felt the same, but he's really struggling with faith and God and all that stuff. I know how hard it is being there, and I wish I could do or say something to make it better for him, but this is one of those things that I know God has to sort out for him. All I can do is pray. However, it's great that we're actually going to church - that's a major improvement in itself, and I hope this church has the potential to be our new spiritual home, because I really need somewhere now.

After church this morning we went for a walk around Rondebosch Common. This is a local Common that is populated with fynbos. It is completely undeveloped (think: wild parts of Wimbledon Common, or walking along some of the Downs, for those in the UK). The only drawback is that wherever you are, you can still see the traffic around the edge, even if you can't hear them. STILL - it has one of the best views of the Mountain in town, and it is just so great to be able to get into fynbos without having to trek for miles. It was wonderful benign able to get out for about an hour this morning - what is it about walking in creation?

This weekend has been full of family time, which I love. Yesterday we went to my mom's and spent the afternoon with her and my step-dad. Today we were with Graeme's family and then with my dad. It's great to see Nellie interacting with her family and her cousins, and enjoying herself (and them enjoying her too)! It warms my heart so much. Every time I see her with family I am reminded that coming home was the right move for us - even when I miss London (as I've been doing a lot this past week).

However, the end of the weekend has been tough. Many of you are aware that my dad developed cancer of the throat in 2001. The surgery, radiation and chemo really destroyed him - he has lost nerve function in his skin and muscles in his upper body, so he can't really taste his food, or feel anything against his skin, and his back muscles don't hold his head and shoulders up too well. He is also losing his teeth, still suffers with terrible ulcers in his mouth and frequently has a tongue so swollen he struggles to talk.

As a result, he decided that should his cancer every return, he would not have chemo or radiation again, but would let nature take it's course. His decision is perfectly understandable from his perspective. Unfortunately, with his type of cancer, it recurs in 1 in every 3 cases, and for those it does recur in, it is usually (eventually) fatal.

Well, thus far, he has been free of cancer. He was officially in remission - you have to be cancer free for 5 years to be so.

Until this past week.

He had surgery last Friday to remove a malignant tumour.

The surgery team say the tissue around the tumour was completely healthy, so they are pretty confident they've got it all. The tumour was in his groin, not in his throat. He has refused chemo and radiation. I understand that decision, despite the implications for those of us left behind.

My fear though is that there are cancerous cells floating in his blood that broke off from this tumour, that will now settle in a new area and grow into a new tumour. While he is not at death's door, nor is a cancer death in the short term future for him, the fact is that the cancer is going to get him - that much is clear.

I've been feeling so confident that he had beaten it, that he would still be here to watch Janel start school, matriculate, graduate, get married, and maybe even have her own kids. Now, I have to prepare myself that he will probably do none of those things, and every day we have with him is precious. I know that sounds melodramatic, and I know it's actually true for everyone I love. But somehow, facing this with Dad makes it more real.

Again, I know that my father is, at heart, a fighter. If he wasn't, he wouldn't still be here. He's been cancer free for 7 years. The lump was fairly small. These are all good things, and they all contribute to him being around for a long time. But he is tired, and his two best friends are both dying of cancer. Now for him to find another lump... well, he isn't feeling too positive right now, and a positive state of mind is essential for recovery.

So I don't know what to think really. He isn't terminal, but he is dying. How does one prepare for this future? I don't know. I don't want to contemplate a future without him....

Say what?

Did you know that less than 50% of the current Grade 10s achieved the required standards for numeracy and about 30% of them achieved the required standards for literacy when they were in Grade 3?

I have to say, it comes as no shock to me when I see how the kids I teach write!

And did you know that of the 2.5million Gd 9s currently in the system, only 0.5million are projected to actually finish matric? And of those, 50 000 will leave with no certification at all.

I am galled by the fact that, in the light of these and other facts, the Education Dept spokesperson was quoted in the Cape Times a few days ago as saying that if the current matrics fail, it's their own fault because the 'Dept has done everything in its power to help them'.

I think not!

Heartbroken

Several of our friends around the world are currently undergoing fertility treatment of one sort or another in an effort to conceive.

Tonight we heard that one couple, who were 9.5 weeks pregnant, have lost their baby. It just breaks my heart. They so badly want a baby.... and everything seemed to be going so well for them....

There are no words, really. Losing a child... Well, nothing compares.

Guys, I know you read the blog regularly, so in addition to our email and FB message, I wanted you to know again just how much you are in our thoughts and prayers at the moment. Thinking of you on Monday in particular. You know where we are if you need to talk.

Xenophobia

It happens the world over: xenophobia. We are all afraid of the unknown. We all fear what we do not understand. In a sense, xenophobia is perfectly logical, and perfectly understandable.

And yet...

While in London, I was amazed by the hate, not just antipathy, that many Britons felt for the African and Eastern European immigrants. Commonly expressed thoughts were that they stole jobs, were thieves and rapists, and were smelly and unhygienic.

Of course, there was some basis in fact for these thoughts. Many immigrants were so poor the only way they could afford to eat was if they stole something. Many of them were economic migrants, prepared to work for next to nothing, in appalling conditions, because it was more than they would be getting back home. So yes, they took jobs, but many Britons would rather be on the dole than work. Migrants don't have the option of going on the dole. Britons want to be famous and earn mega-bucks for doing nothing. Migrants don't have that option - they want to eat, and work, so they can support their families back home where unemployment is even worse than it is in the UK.

As an immigrant myself, I was also constantly amazed by the way that Britons could single out one culture from another in their xenophobia. I never heard similar sentiments expressed about Saffas, or Kiwis, or Auzzies, or Canadians. (And people say that South Africans are racist!)

Over the past few weeks, xenophobic attacks on Zimbabweans, Malawians, Zambians, Ugandans, Rwandans, Burundians, Mozambicans, and many other African illegal (and legal!) migrants who are living near Johannesburg on the East Rand, have been on the increase.

It blows me away that my fellow countrymen and women can with one breath decry the atrocities in Zimbabwe, and with the next perpetrate their own. It blows me away that people who should be experts at ubuntu can demonstrate anything but. It blows me away that a problem I considered to be purely a first-world problem exists on my own doorstep (as it were.... Jo'burg is a good 1400kms or 870 miles). It blows me away that in this rainbow nation of ours, where thousands have fought, shed blood and died for the right for us to treat each other with the respect due another human being, for the right to express our equality, my fellow countrymen and women would perpetrate such hate crimes.

Yet, I know that I am still one of the privileged in South Africa and that therefore I have very little understanding of what my fellow countrymen and women are going through. I have running water, TWO flush toilets, a brick house, a pool, a car and a job that pays me in a month what most of them earn in about half a year. I can afford private medical care and insurance, while they are not even able to afford to eat 3 meals a day. I can afford to clothe my child and send her to daycare where she is in a class of only 10, while their children have only the clothes on their back and are in daycare with a class of 50.

So I have to ask myself - if I were in their shoes, if Janel was starving and sick, what would I be prepared to do to attempt to safeguard a future for both of us? If I thought that my neighbour was the reason that we were starving, sick or unemployed, how far would I be prepared to go? Stealing? Lying? Fighting? Killing?

I'm not sure, but I can't pretend that I wouldn't do those things. The moment Janel was born and I held her in my arms I suddenly realised that not only was I capable of murder, but that if anyone threatened my child, I would do whatever was necessary to protect her, including murder if it came to that (although I pray I never, ever have to be in that place and make that decision). So I can understand how they might feel they've been pushed into a corner and this is the only way out.

And yet...

There are hundreds more in the same boat who have found a way to refrain from violence and hatred, who have found a way to live in (uneasy) peace with these migrants. These other people have found a way to control their own fears and to demonstrate concern for the migrants. Because I know, therefore, that it is possible to be in extreme poverty and still demonstrate Christ's love, I can only continue to condemn these attacks in the strongest possible terms. Every single person is worthy of respect and dignity.

This photo story is narrated by a newspaper photographer of his trip to the East Rand recently. These images remind me of the struggle photos of the '80s. Please God let us not return to that dark time in this nation, not after everything You have done in and for us!

As most of you know, I had a series of bloods taken before I was induced with Zoe. One set came back as questionable, so I had to repeat it recently, to confirm the results. After eventually pestering my consultant, I got my them back tonight.

I'm clear of diabetes, so I probably just had pregnancy diabetes (that will need monitoring during any future pregnancy). However, as suspected, I do have Antiphospholipid syndrome (also known as 'sticky blood' or Hughes' syndrome)

While my APS did not cause Zoe's death, or Janel's prem birth, women with APS suffer a high incidence of unexplained miscarriage, prem birth and stillbirth. Even with treatment (which would be a daily injection of heparin plus possibly daily doses of aspirin) in any future pregnancy, there is still a 25% chance of either a miscarriage, prem birth or stillbirth. Without treatment, the risk is much higher.

Fortunately, it does not seem bad enough at present to require me to take aspirin on a daily basis for the rest of my life, although I should take it in times of high risk (like when travelling long distances). I should ensure that I don't sit for long periods of time at my desk without walking around, drink plenty of fluids (which I'm bad at anyway) and have my blood monitored regularly.

[APS is not inheritable, so Janel (and future children) should be safe. However, as Graeme ALSO has this condition (what are the odds of that?!), in addition to his other blood disorders, we've been advised to have her checked when she reaches adulthood (around 18 yrs) anyway because she may well be genetically disposed to blood disorders.]

While knowing this doesn't bring Zoe back, it helps to know. And it makes Janel's survival and birth all the more miraculous. While I want another baby, at least now I know the risks involved of losing any number of future children and can go into the pregnancy prepared for the worst. At least now, if I know something is wrong (which I did with Zoe - if only I had known this then... she might still be alive now if I had known and asked for an induction...), I can make the decision about inducing labour or having an emergency c-section without needing to come across as a paranoid mother! At least now, because I know the risks, I will treasure every moment with my next child, rather than taking it for granted the way I did with Zoe.

So there we are.

Life improves, or does it?

After the disaster that was Nellie's dinner on Monday, last night was better. Wow - that post generated a lot of emails! And interestingly, it was the first time I've had equal amounts of conflicting advice.

Anyway, we did the same routine as the previous two nights, except that I started half an hour earlier. It wasn't easy and we did have a few tears, but nothing major. I made a concerted effort not to make it a trial for her, but to stick to my guns. It seemed to work. It took an hour, but she ate beautifully in the end. Given that she'd had a bottle of milk an hour before supper, I was really thrilled at how much she ate - a bottle of food, a small yoghurt, a fruit pot, a small box of raisins, a small bread stick, and one of Mommy's biscuits.

(And she was very cute yesterday! See her post on her site about the day. We did some more videoing, so will try to get that up on her site in due course.)

I rang Home Affairs again this morning, to find out about the progress on her birth registration and passport.... only to discover that... wait for it... they are all on strike AGAIN! (or is that STILL?). I seem to have the knack for choosing the day to call!

Turns out that civil servants in SA are on the rampage about pay increases. I sympathise. When you realise that a nurse who has been working for 22 years, and is the major breadwinner in her family of 6, still gets less than £500 a month, it kind of puts the inconvenience of Nellie not having a passport into perspective. Yet, on the other hand, SA is a third world country where unemployment is at 30%. Where are all the civil servants expecting this extra cash to come from? The government has increased its offer from 5% pay increase to 7.25%. Strikers have reduced their demands from 12% to 10%. But that's still a way off from reaching a compromise.

While this battle rages, government schools have been closed for a week; state hospitals are moving patients to private ones, only to discover that the private hospitals are also closing; neo-natal units are unable to help all but the most critically ill babies; Home Affairs departments are closed in both Cape Town and in Pretoria; train, taxi and bus services are either not running, or running in a drastically reduced fashion, especially in Kwa-Zulu Natal; refuse collections have been stopped... the list goes on.

Here I am going on about Nellie not eating when my home country has come to a grinding halt because of injustices in the civil servant pay structures. I think their pay is an offense to God, and yet at the same time, I don't see how to improve their situation without making drastic cuts to essential services. Yes, there is a lot of corruption in government, and that needs to be dealt with if we're ever going to solve this problem. But to what extent, and how much of a difference it would make to available money for salaries, I really couldn't say.

I'm praying that this doesn't deteriorate into something like the strikes in the UK in Thatcher's day. I'm praying that a solution can be found that is good for everyone.

And yes, I'm praying that Nellie gets her passport in time and eats something too, between now and then.

And the winner is...

So we went to the hospital this morning to discuss Zoe's autopsy report. The long and short of it is that there is no discernible reason for her death.

However...

... there is something wrong with me.... at least, they think there is...

... so I had another batch of bloods and have to organise one more to confirm or deny their suspicions...

... and if there is, then there are implications for future pregnancies....

They suspect that I have the same blood condition that Graeme has. It's called antiphospholipid syndrome, or Hughes syndrome.

Since it's not inherited, the chances of both of us having it are like... I dunno ... a billion to 1. Anyway, they think I've got it. If I do, then I'll have to have an injection of a blood thinner (either heparin or a combination of heparin and aspirin) every day while I'm pregnant and have LOADS of scans etc. and I'll have to be induced - quite probably have to have a Caesar. I'm worried about the risks to the baby if I take heparin, but then, if I don't, there are risks for the baby with this thing anyway....

I did ask the consultant whether there was a chance that (assuming their preliminary diagnoses are correct) this thing could have caused Zoe's death. She was lovely, really, the consultant. Anyway, she replied that while this didn't cause Zoe's death, unexplained pregnancy loss is a characteristic of those with this syndrome. There is also a link between this and premature birth. (So it may well be that this, again, assuming that I do actually have it, is what caused Janel to be born so prem.)

I did ask her whether, had we known then what we know now, there was a chance that Zoe would still be alive. She refused to give me a straight answer. I suppose there's no point in going down the 'if' road. The fact is that Zoe is dead. There's a good chance that this syndrome is somehow involved, even if not directly. In my heart I feel that, had I known about this earlier, Zoe would still be alive. I would have insisted on an induction on the Monday when I felt something was wrong.

But then, she might still have died from SIDS. Just because she might have been born alive is no guarantee that she would stay alive. If anything, I think this whole experience with her has taught me that. There are no guarantees with pregnancies or births. There is no stage at which you can breathe a sigh of relief and relax, or think that you're safe, because you're not. You're not ever safe. At any stage your baby might die, despite what the books say. And it's pointless putting your trust in statistics, because you might be that unfortunate 1% (or whatever). As we were. And as we might be again...

... which is why they'd want to induce me if I fall pregnant again...

Oddly, this syndrome causes a variety of different symptoms, because there are at least 4 different variations of it. It appears that Graeme has 2 versions of it, so it causes both the extreme clotting of blood AND a form of haemophilia, at the same time! It is also common for those with Lupus to have this syndrome, which is why we were told a while back that Graeme has Lupus. He doesn't. If we were to remain in the UK though, my care would be managed by the Lupus unit at St. Thomas's, in conjunction with a special midwifery team, because my symptoms would be very similar to those of someone with Lupus. Freaky!

Then, if that weren't enough to think about, she wants me to have a proper fasting test for diabetes. I certainly had high sugar levels in my urine with both pregnancies, so if even if this tests negative, I need to keep an eye on it during pregnancy because lots of women only get diabetes during pregnancy.

Oh yes, and of course this means that I'm at high risk for DVT... so once we have the results of the tests, if it's positive, I need to get a medical letter to inform the airline and take with me when I fly, and I'll need to take lots of aspirin before and after the flight, and wear flight socks. Sigh! At least I'll know before I go though, which reduces the possible risk to me.

Interestingly, there is a contra-indication for those who have APS in using the Pill. For years I felt that being on the Pill was bad for me in just SO many ways, which is why we eventually came off it. I had decided that, once we'd had a second, I wasn't going to go back on it. Now it seems that, even if I wanted to, that wouldn't be an option for me.

Of course, all this doom and gloom talk is dependent on today's set of tests confirming the previous set. So maybe I'm fine after all. We find out in 3 weeks time. In the mean time, I'm feeling a bit shell-shocked actually. The thought of everything I'll have to go through if we fall pregnant again, of the high risk of miscarriage... I don't know if I'm up for that. But then, I really want another baby... to think that, at the root of it all, it was quite probably something in me that contributed to Zoe's death... I don't know if I want to risk that with another child.

Good and bad news

Well, the good news is that the consultant says I'm fine. This after many, many, many tests. I've had blood and urine tests for possible thyroid problems, pregnancy diabetes and infections (all clear!), and yet another scan to check on the size of the baby (small, but still within normal range). So as a result, I've been discharged from the consultant's monitoring. Hurray! Here's hoping for a normal term delivery.

The bad news is that the infection which caused Nellie to be born prem would not necessarily have been picked up by either a blood or urine test at this same stage of pregnancy... so there's every reason to think that I might be in the same position as last time and that it simply hasn't been picked up. In which case, I may only have about 3 weeks to go.

The good news is that I've been ordered to have extra midwifery check ups to monitor the baby's health, which should be an indicator of anything going wrong and I've been warned to go to the hospital at the first signs of any pain, even if it means daily trips.

The bad news is that I can't book the necessary midwifery appointments because the appointment book is locked away in a cupboard that no-one seems to have a key for.... (or at least, won't have a key for at least another week... so let's hope that by then there will still be an appointment free for me to have).

The good news is that, apparently, even if my waters break I can go for several weeks without needing to deliver (obviously with the help of drugs) with no significant adverse effect to the baby...

The bad news is that that will only happen if it's caught in time.... hmm... not sure exactly what 'in time' means in this case. I hope I don't have to find out.

More bad news is that I've just had another bout of food poisoning... thanks to Tesco's Chicken Fajita Wraps...

The good news is that there was apparently no risk to the baby at all, and I'm recovering nicely (albeit in pain - do you KNOW how many muscles are used, and with what violence, to throw up while SIMULTANEOUSLY having diarrhoea?!?!?!?) (OK, sorry - maybe too much information, but really - do you have ANY idea?!?!) (LOTS, is the answer, in case you weren't sure of it, and in places you wouldn't even begin to imagine could be involved....) (moving on now...)

The other good news is that I'm about to enter a period of increased rest (which should be good for helping to ensure baby is delivered on time.

The bad news is that the reason for this is that my hero husband is taking my darling daughter to South Africa for 2 weeks on Tuesday... Boo hoo!

More good news is that I only have 2 weeks to go till I'm on maternity leave! WOO HOO!! No bad news to accompany this piece of news (unless you count the fact that I still have to get through 2 weeks...)

So on balance, lots of good news all round.

Oh yes, and for those who couldn't see the videos - sorry! That was entirely my fault for not clicking the right button when I loaded them, so making them only visible to Graeme and I.... DUH! That problem is now rectified and you (along with the rest of the unknown world) can enjoy our little treasure at your leisure.