« August 2005 | Main | October 2005 »
Very busy with wedding stuff stop
Not sleeping much stop
Sarah glowing like crazy and couldn't be happier or look more beautiful stop
Wedding tomorrow stop
Ovaries quiet, still no sign of The Big Follicle stop
Go back to doc on Tuesday stop
Going to bed now stop
Man, I am getting old. I have spent the last three days trying to recover from a bad combination of late nights and early morning dates with the dildo cam. Seriously. Saturday I was up at 7am and didn’t go to sleep until 3:30am. I just can’t do that anymore.
Saturday, of course, was Sarah’s bachelorette party.
It took forever to find something cool to do for her party. Since she doesn’t drink, I knew the whole bar thing wasn’t going to happen. Sarah didn’t want to go see male strippers (thank god), so that was out. I thought about doing one of those Tupperware-style vibrator parties, but most of the women I know are not exactly sex-toy shy, so I figured that would get a little dull after a while.
Finally, I discovered that the local fetish store hosted bachelorette parties. Great! I thought. That’ll be a little different. But the night we wanted to do it, sadly, was the same night the store was hosting a big party. Then the shopkeeper said, hey! Why don’t we combine both events?
So, Sarah’s festivities were part of a “back-to-school” themed S & M party.
Now, when you picture an S & M party, what do you see? Women tied to posts being mercilessly flogged? Everyone slinking around, sexy in latex and leather? Muscular men walking women on leashes?
Maybe those parties exist somewhere. But at this party, all the men were submissive. Most of them were in some form of drag. Bad drag. Bad, bad, bad drag. Unless you think a broad shouldered man dressed like a schoolgirl—wearing a ten dollar wig—in a shirt that is see-through so you can see his back hair—is good drag. Which it isn’t. Bad drag. Bad.
There were a few other men around, apparently all either foot-fetishists or lost slaves looking for a dominatrix (one, according to tommybarbella, wanted me to spank him all night long. I’ve decided that was a compliment). Plus there was “Piglet” a man wearing a weird workout outfit, who spent the whole night crawling around getting petted. The name fit—he was a very round fellow. It was very odd.
As for the women, they were not your run-of-the-mill domintraxes (I’m afraid I do not know the correct spelling for the plural form of dominatrix). In fact, they were freakishly normal looking women that I wouldn’t be surprised to see behind a bank counter (minus, of course, the leather and latex).
Because of the “back-to-school” theme, there were games. Spelling bees, for instance (the words being unusual sexual practices). But the woman running the game was an idiot and they left the music blasting so loud that you couldn’t hear anything. Tommybarbella almost won that one, and she was devastated that she didn’t because she really wanted the prize—a penis-shaped lipstick.
In between the party games, the hostess would drag Sarah up and make her do things. They’d given her a party bag with a bunch of “stud-finder” things to do on it, and they awkwardly managed to fulfill all of them with a bunch of sex slaves and drag queens. Sarah, I must say, was incredibly game and put up with all of it. Here is a lovely photo of her checking off one item on the list (it was “look inside someone’s bag or briefcase”). If you look closely at the photo, you’ll see that Sarah is holding a huge glass dildo/butt plug (oh, the google searches I’ll get now). Later on, the foot fetishists bench-pressed her while she stood on their hands.
I’ll let Sarah tell the whole story on her blog, but suffice it to say that the evening was silly, weird, and memorable. I felt like I’d come up with the world’s lamest party, but Sarah assures me that she loves me and had a good time. It was the kind of party only a city like ours would have—a little less than risqué, a little more than harmless. Here is another great photo of us—you’ll see I'm holding Sarah's glass-penis necklace, and she is wearing a penis-covered veil. Heh.
The wedding is on Saturday, and I have guests (my friend Dave! And his girlfriend and her son!) arriving to stay with us on Thursday. I’ll try to get online at least once more before next week and give you all an FET update… but don’t get mad if you don’t hear from me!
Speaking of our embryo transfer, I don’t know about my blood work yet, but my lining is already a perfect 10. I haven’t come close to ovulating, so I think the transfer won’t happen until next week. Although, with my luck, it will be the morning of the wedding. So much for bed rest…
I love my obstetrician. Really really REALLY love him.
I spoke with him this week just to let him know we were planning to do a transfer again, and he asked me to come back in and repeat some blood work because the results were messed up from the ones we did in February. As he put it, "they say you are both high and low" so we had to do them again. Bringing my blood vials drawn this week (so far) to a glorious 11.
While I was getting the blood drawn, Dr. Mama walked in. I swear to you the room brightened. He is so sweet, so genuine, and just so motherfucking kind that I felt immediately relaxed before he said anything more than hello.
When we spoke on the phone I told him I hadn't managed to lose any weight, really, since I'd last been in. His response? "Oh, that's life, don't worry about it." Don't you just want to kiss him?
The blood tests are looking for rare clotting disorders that could have been the cause of the death of the first twin (when I was pregnant before, for those arriving late, when I went in for my 22-week ultrasound we discovered one of the boys had already passed away, before realizing I had severe preeclampsia and was going to be hospitalized. In fact, it was only because Dr. Mama wanted to make sure I was "ok" emotionally after getting this news that we discovered the preeclampsia at all). If it turns out I have the disorders, there is a treatment protocol that should prevent the same problem from occurring again. You know, we hope.
Dr. Mama told my friend Jo (who referred me to Dr. Mama--again, thank you thank you Jo) that doing my dilation and extraction procedure was the worst day in his professional career (pretty considerable, since it spans over 25 years), because he knew how much we'd wanted those boys. While I'm sorry, of course, that it was his worst day, I am so grateful for his empathy.
Today we just spoke briefly. He told me how happy he is for us that we're trying again, which is just such a nice thing to say, considering that another doctor in his office gave me quite the doom and gloom scenario (a 50%- 75% chance of preeclampsia happening again--a completely inflated number, by the way, according the data on preeclampsia.org). He asked how many embryos we'll transfer (the answer is two), and told me to call next week to get the results.
Again, in case you are coming to this game in the eight inning (oh my god, I'm using a sports metaphor), my retrieval April 2004 yielded a whopping 35 eggs, of which 27 were "good" and 17 fertilized. We couldn't do a fresh embryo transfer that first cycle because my ovaries were the size of soccer balls. Yes, literally. I had a nice yummy case of Ovarian Hyperstimilation Syndrome. I went on the pill for a month, and in June we did a frozen embryo transfer of three lovely grade-B eight-celled embryos. Two of those puppies stuck, and boom! Preggers with twins. The rest, as they say... well, you know what happened next.
Charlie (who wrote a great post about all of this, by the way, you should go read it) and I initially discussed just doing single embryo transfers for a while, but after much pushing on my part bullying yelling discussion we've decided to transfer two because I think only one is a waste of time. We'd like to avoid twins again, but... I'm ready.
You hear that people? I'm fucking READY. Tomorrow is cycle day nine, and I have another visit with the dildocam and might be starting some progesterone (although I am totally not going to start that until AFTER the fab bachelorette party Saturday night).
It's time. I'm done waiting. Ready.
Too much going on in my head to formulate flowing thoughts. So here they are, in no particular order.
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In preparation for being pregnant again, I have begun to eat less salt. My blood pressure got higher by the time I was six or eight weeks pregnant last time, and the only normal BP I had while pregnant came the month I moderated my salt intake.
This is only a problem because I fucking ADORE salt. I'm the kind of person that will dip my spit-wet finger into the spilled salt on the scummy diner table and then suck it off my finger because I love it that much. There was a great story I read as a kid about people feeling salt was more precious than gold (and something about the king dying and the shunned daughter saved his life with salted bread--does anyone know what I'm talking about?) and I agreed. I LOVE ME SOME SALT.
So far all I'm doing is watching the salt volume of saltier foods and trying to keep it to about 3000mg a day. Next week I'll actually start thinking about how much is in my cereal, and salad dressing (usually a LOT) and that sort of thing. Eventually I'll try to get closer to 2000mg a day.
I'm also watching sugar/white flour stuff, just cause. But not rigidly. I've got to have something.
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On the health front, I just picked up some records at my general practitioner's to give to my RE. I only needed my culture results, but they also gave me the results of some basic blood work I had done, including a fasting glucose and a thyroid level.
I knew the tests had come back normal, but it turns out barely normal on both counts. My fasting glucose was 94 (100-125 is considered glucose/insulin resistant), and my thyroid was .65 (.4 to 4.0 is normal).
I know I should see a regular endocrinologist. My question is, now? Or wait until after FET/pregnancy/baby? Any thoughts?
Also, my cholesterol was 190, but my triglycerides were slightly high. More evidence of a need for healthy eating. In my twenties, I drank, smoked, and ate CRAP and my cholesterol was never above 130. Ah, youth.
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This is beatifully said. I've never been a huge Sharon Olds fan but I've known folks that have studied with her and say she's great. I feel like it's very brave of her to turn this invite down. Thanks to Tommybarbella for the link!
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Pete is flying in right this very minute. Sarah is beside herself. I can't wait to see him and meet his dogs!
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Speaking of Sarah, I am so dying to tell you about what will happen at her bachelorette party. Trust me when I tell you it will be beyond anything she can imagine. Heh. Well, maybe not. But it's gonna be hot.
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Does anyone else feel like The Daily Show isn't quite right? I didn't particularly enjoy last week's "Evolution, Schmevolution" thing. I'm not sure what's bothering me... Part of me is still irritated about his, well, completely sexist comments about Monica Lewinsky last week I guess. I'd like to know what you guys think... I'm really looking forward to Steve Colbert's new show, cause he da bomb.
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DailyKos has started a new site about religion and politics. Looking forward to reading it. They were apparently inspired to do it after seeing a presentation by Jim Wallis, a man who impressed me as well. DailyKos is another one of those places I linger even though they've displayed some pretty sexist ideology. I still learn things there I wouldn't hear about elsewhere.
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Tomorrow is the first day of fall. As much as I hate being hot, that makes me sad.
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I need to buy a new bra. I have ginormous boobs. Seriously. Sarah mentioned the other day that when I wear a corset, you can't look anywhere in a room except at my boobs, they are JUST THAT BIG. Any recommendations? And what does it mean if your underwires poke out in the middle? Is it too small? I don't know... but I want to have good liftage for Sarah's wedding, so I'll take all the advice I can get.
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Are any of you going to watch that new show about the Fertility Clinic? Or are we boycotting it as blogging infertiles? Do we have a stand? Cause I'm tempted, I gotta tell ya.
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Jennifer Weiner's new book is out. I think I will buy it tonight since the first chapter was on her website and I can't wait to finish it. Any other book recommendations?
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I think I could just keep typing my random thoughts until the end of time. But I'll stop now.
This morning was my first “active” visit back to my fertility doc since I lost the boys. I’d gone for a consult a couple months back, but we went in the middle of the day so the office was deserted.
Today it was packed, with the “blood line” nearly out the door. My RE has two offices, and we’d always gone to the smaller one before but since we moved it’s now best to go to the larger office. Sadly, it’s nearly a 45-minute drive, which meant that I had to be up and ready to leave the house before 8am.
I am NOT a morning person.
I tried, desperately, to emotionally prepare for this
visit—even though this was pretty minor stuff. Unlike a lot of RE’s, mine is
strictly hands-off, leaving us IVF victims patients in the hands of his crazy
staff, many of whom are related to him in some manner or another. It’s quite a
factory, hence the “blood line”, but he does have one of the highest success
rates around, so I put up with it.
Today I felt totally out of my depth. Last year I had hundreds of appointments with the dildo cam and the blood drawing ladies, so I should be used to the drill. But I felt like I did when I went back to college as an adult—adrift and uncomfortable. I felt like an outsider.
It didn’t help that there were six million children in the waiting room. Ok, there were only six, but still. I overheard people cheerfully proclaiming that they are trying “for a third!” Somehow, I managed to not vomit—I think it helped that I hadn’t eaten breakfast. While I applaud their willingness to persist, I have to fight that feeling in me that there are only a certain number of ART babies to be had, and they are being greedy.
One nice thing about this office is that the women chat to each other, kind of a “what are you in for” discussion (totally stolen from Akeeyu). While it was much nicer than the other office where we all stood silent as death, I ask you, would you want to be in line with me?
Seriously. If you are an IVF newbie, what kind of stories do you want to hear from the other women in line? Certainly not mine.
The woman behind me began peppering me with questions when she discovered I was a veteran. I managed to put off discussing the boys until she said, “Oh, you had twins?” and I had to tell the story.
Everyone in line stopped talking and listened. I felt awful but I had to tell the truth. I kept saying, “The losses had nothing to do with the IVF.” But you could feel the pall spread over the women, and without meaning to, they all moved a little away from me, like preeclampsia might be contagious or something. They all gazed at me with pity.
It was awkward, to say the least.
I don’t handle pity well; I find myself wanting to yell, “I’m FINE. Really. Thank you.” But the truth is, I’m NOT fine. I’m fucked up. I am so completely full of fear about this cycle that I can barely take a deep breath.
I can handle the dildo cam and the blood tests. I can handle the whole thawing-the-embryos-and-waiting-to-see-if-they-grow thing. I can handle the transfer and waiting for the test results. I can even handle pregnancy again, even if it’s as awful as it was last time.
But I don’t think I can handle losing another baby.
I emailed Julia, Tertia and Grrl last week, asking them how they managed to go on. They all three said the same thing; how do you not go on?
A large part of me wants to just stop. No more cycles, no more trying. Just walk away. Live my life without children. But as Grrl said, it’s not like I can sell my 14 kidsicles on Ebay. Stopping isn’t really an option, and a childless life isn’t what I want.
But Hope is expensive, and my emotional checking account is overdrawn. I’ll keep moving forward, but I don’t imagine I’ll spend much time being happy about it.
The rest of the today will be spent awaiting my blood results. My ultrasound looked fine, so no worries there (I was afraid my uterus had decided to change following the last pregnancy, possibly to a more compact square shape, but no). I’m sure the blood results will be fine as well.
One little step forward. The rest of my body is grudgingly following along.
Yee-fucking-ha.
I’ve been working in the visual arts for the last seven years or so, and in that time I have met some amazing artists. Most of the time I’ve been blown away by these women (with rare exceptions), but never as much as I’ve been recently.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to meet Faith Ringgold and her daughter. I was familiar with Faith’s children’s books, so I was very excited to meet her in person. She’s a trailblazer (or as she puts it, “just wait them out, they’ll wear down eventually”), of course. As an African-American woman who has been a working artist for over 35 years, she had no choice. But her absolute grace in the face of constant opposition left me feeling incredibly inspired. Her work is unbelievable in person—particularly her “story quilts.”
I also got to meet Wilhelmina Holladay (and yes, her friends call her Billie). She’s the founder of the National Museum for Women In The Arts in Washington, DC. Here was a wealthy woman, who studied art history, who noticed the appalling lack of inclusion in the art world women artists suffered. She’d march into art galleries and ask for art by women—in the 60’s and 70’s. When they replied that they didn’t have any, she’d give them her card and say to call her when they did. She therefore forced galleries to carry and sell women’s art. Her collection became the centerpiece of the museum once it was opened, and it opened only because of her sheer force of will. Amazing woman.
After meeting them both and hearing about their lives, I felt deeply inspired. While I no longer hope to “change the world” the way I did when I was younger, I would love to leave this planet feeling I’ve left a mark. I don’t have the power of money or images to do it—I just have words.
And then yesterday I got this email from Elena, a woman I have little in common with but have come to be fond of:
I thought you might be interested to know that on the Catholic Liturgical Calendar, tomorrow is the remembrance of Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows. I think it is just a very special day for all the mothers who have lost babies and children. I do a special prayer at the shrine of Our Sorrowful Mother every year on this date, and I will remember you and your two boys there tomorrow as well. I put stuff on my blog every year about it if you're interested. I know you're not Catholic, but I think most women can relate to Mary as a mom and I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow was a special day for you too!
Elena has offered to pray for me before, but (no offense, Elena) usually as more of, well, an attack (or a defense, depending on your perspective). The fact that our frequent emails and discussions—almost never coming to any mutual ground—has led to her praying for me so sincerely touches me so, so much.
I don’t want to brag (oh, hell, yes I do) but if the only thing I do in my life is have this blog, I will have accomplished a great deal. Where else, I ask you, can you find a space where the pro-life and the pro-choice speak to each other honestly and without rancor? Where the pro-Bush folks allow themselves to be bashed and give it back, again, usually without any personal attacks (although some of us lefties need to work on that)? Most of us have come to truly respect each other, even with our differences. A rare, rare thing in a time of divisiveness and posturing.
My blog has become a place of peace, ironically, even when we argue. The fact that you all come here, daily, and share your hearts allows me to be inspired on a daily basis.
Thank you.
Lastly, if any of you ever wondered how I became the way I am, or learned to use words they way I do, here is an example of why. Suzanne, a long-time friend of my mother’s recently came to my blog and left this comment on a older post:
As for Bush and his Panzer Cabinet and his tame congressmen, and his Mephistopheles Rove, I am sure he is going to wind up in Oz: Bush the straw man has no brain, Rumsfeld the Lion has no courage, Cheney the Tin Man has no heart, and Gonzalez the doggy has no balls. Karl Rove is the Wizard of course - everything done with smoke and mirrors and special effects - government by Industrial Light and Magic. If I could support myself now, I'd go to Iceland...
I grew up, and continue to be, surrounded by brilliant women. Once again, thank you, thank you, thank you.
I have no good reason for my silence. I think some of it is Katrina fatigue; I’m exhausted with reacting to the horror of it all. I have spent so much of my time thinking, reading, and watching the Katrina aftermath that I’m worn out.
I decided I wanted to do more, so I’ve applied to go on a relief trip as a vet tech later this fall. I don’t know if they’ll accept my application or not, or when I’m going to go. I hope they do and I can. I will keep you posted.
There is some other stuff going on in my life. I threw the mother of all housewarming parties Saturday night—it was a blast, and some fifty or so people came through my house. It really was fun. Serious thank yous go to Sarah, who spent a huge amount of time after cleaning up, and Elise for helping prepare the food. Not to mention A., Elise's husband, who did ALL the grilling.
It was a crazy mix of all of my communities. My family; my closest friends; my recovery friends; blogging buddies (Melanie, I got the sheets…they rock!); and my neighbors (In fact, my neighbors across the street got to meet the neighbors that live next door to us for the first time. We’re going to gloss over the fact that the people next door have been there for FIVE years and the people across the street even longer, and that the next-door-folks are black, and the across-the-street-folks are white, because I’m sure it had NOTHING to do with it). In fact, the only people missing where my new friends from church.
Church was awesome on Sunday. We had a wonderful grief ritual for September 11 and Hurricane Katrina, and I’d completely forgotten that Church is a place to process that stuff. While I can share about my grief at a recovery meeting, I cannot discuss my rage at the President—politics has no place there. It was divine (heh) hearing the Pastor pray for those that suffered, and “those that seemingly did nothing” both.
I was very nervous to be standing up and singing (I’m happy to get up and tell you about my crazy life, my uterus, or read my poems, but ask me to sing? Eek!). There are a total of nine people in this choir (and we sang “We’ve Got A Friend In Jesus”), so it’s a bit overwhelming. My voice is sucking…I sounded great during rehearsal but then during the performance my voice cracked and squeaked. I’ve struggled with chronic hoarseness for years (and have found the causes, all of which I’ve stopped treating). I need to get back into doing my voice exercises so that I can sing for longer than ten minutes.
This week my little town is hosting an arts festival, and the minister has asked me to speak about being an artist (I’m a poet, remember? My writing isn’t always about blogging and how much I hate Bush, I swear) and how spirituality factors into it. He’s also asked my mom to sing and play her guitar. I’m really excited about it. It feels pretty amazing to be so included already, when we’ve only been going a month.
Oh—and before you get all nervous, I sent the pastor the links to several of my God-based blog posts—so he knows the drill. I’ll try, really hard, not to swear in church.
Hmmmm… I bought my dress for Sarah’s wedding. It’s, well, ok. I look old and matronly in it, but it fits and has sheer sleeves that let my tattoos show through (hopefully eliminating the matron thing to some extent). It’s basically a sheer poncho over a pretty standard dress. Ah well. The wedding isn’t about me, after all. Oh, and you should go read her blog… the latest news is FABULOUS.
What else… oh, Charlie has adopted a new swear from the new HBO show Rome: “piss drinking son of a circus whore!” So far, he’s mostly directed this to the cats. I’m soooo looking forward to those future parent-teacher conferences.
Speaking of that (you know, in a way) it’s come to my attention that my current cycle is nearing its end—judging by my general irritation and crankiness. Next month, of course, we step once more upon the ART roller coaster. We’ve taken the preliminary steps; you know, dug up the money, made the arrangements. But I’m in denial about it, to some extent. There are other things I need to do—like call my OB and find out about those test results he called about months ago, get the result of my latest PAP for the RE. That sort of thing. But it approaches, and I’m still scared.
Maybe I’ll share about that in church on Sunday. Cause God knows it will be hard enough to not swear while I speak in public for five minutes—I can’t imagine going that long without discussing my fucking UTERUS.
Once again we’ve had quite a spirited discussion. I am thrilled that everyone was able to remain (mostly) civil even with such strong opinions (some posted anonymously) being voiced. And it was wonderful to have everyone post links—on both sides of the issue.
I remain unconvinced of George Bush’s empathy and competence (this timeline—via Spit—just adds fuel to my fire). And I doubt that most Bush sympathizers were convinced that he is an asshole by my arguments.
But whether you see a smile or a smirk, compassion or posturing, what has truly impressed me is that everyone (contrary to Mary’s comment) that comments here has actually DONE something. Whether it’s been getting out your check book or credit card, putting together care packages, helping load trucks, or offering up your homes, you have all put your asses—red and blue—on the line to help the devastated.
So while I remain unimpressed with the current administration, my heart sings when I think of all the help you have already given. Tonight I’m going to choir practice at my new church (gulp) and I will lift up my hoarse and out-of-shape voice in your honor*.
I thought that today instead of trashing the well-deserving President and his men (grin), we could instead share stories of inspiration and hope that we’ve read about in the last few days. Like this story of the pets some evacuees smuggled out (read all the way through for a laugh about Lola the Lovebird--and thank you, Angela, for the link). Or the story I read somewhere about an airline employee giving a bare-footed refugee the shoes right off her feet.
OK?
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*When I called about coming to choir, I ended up in a long conversation with the Pastor. I told him that I was sober and spreading my spiritual wings, but that I didn't believe in Jesus. He laughed and--I shit you not--said, "Join the club!" Then he paused and said, "I guess that doesn't sound so great coming from the Pastor, huh?" and I laughed. I said, "I prefer to think of Jesus metaphorically" and he laughed. We then discussed various spiritual paths, and he recommended a book by the Dalai Lama. I am SO happy I found this place. Gotta love progressive churches!
Go read this. It says exactly what I feel. Thanks to Peach for the link.
Those of you who support the President; do you disagree with what is said here? Setting aside all of the blame, do you think he behaved properly? Like a man who loved his country?
Cause I sure don't.
All irritation and anger aside, you are a bunch of articulate and well-informed folks. Thank you for the links and responses to my posts about Katrina.
I think we are all so angry at being helpless that we may have lashed out at each other a bit harshly. I understand this. But let's try to stop it, ok?
I agree and disagree with so many of you. I got back from camping yesterday, so I haven't completely updated myself on all the latest. But here are a few points you guys raised that I wanted to respond to:
1. Blaming Bush. Of course it's easy for me to point fingers at Bush (and I have two hands with which to do it). It's well known that I think the man is an idiot and too obsessed with his own agenda to actually care about the people he's governing. But several of you mentioned that Bush is not the first President to NOT fund the levee improvements that were needed in New Orleans. Point taken. Would have been nice if he'd risen to the occasion, though, wouldn't it? And I do hold Bush responsible for having about half the Louisiana National Guard in Iraq, as well as having much of the National Guard's equipment there instead of here. I mean, it is the National Guard, right?
2. Excusing the Looters and Rapists. Please know that I DO believe it is wrong that people are looting and taking things they don't need to survive. The point I was trying to make was that I can understand those people looking around at what they've lost and thinking, "Well, now's my chance." It's still wrong, I just understand the motivation. I feel that these communities had been abandoned LONG before Katrina hit. And I never excused rape. I never said that I understood the motivation for the violent behavior--I just said that rapists can easily hide in poor communities because law enforcement ignores those communities. I also think it incredibly foolish that people fired upon the rescuers, or stole generators, but I still have empathy for those that did it.
3. Liberal White Guilt and Racism. I'm not foolish enough to claim to not be a racist. I'm a white American, after all, and I have no idea what it's like to be black in this country. I don't, as a rule, make assumptions about people based on race, to the best of my ability (I am, however, a person that struggles with classism). I also did not claim to be speaking for anyone--I just was sharing my own experiences with poverty and how these experiences have shaped my opinions.
4. Not Getting People Out. Ok, you guys brought up great points about why the rescue efforts went so slowly. But I cannot excuse the government (local, state, and federal) for not getting food and water to those stranded. We have helicopters, and they should have been dropping food and water to those folks constantly. It's simply unacceptable that children and elderly people died from dehydration.
Thank you so much for all the links you've posted to places that can help, and for your offers to help my sister. You are all so kind!
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