Hello.  It’s getting late and I’m tired, but alas things are on my mind.

It stands to reason that we live in a crazy technological era of “heart-on-sleeve”/”show-the-world-what-you-have” environment.  Call it narcissism, call it practicality, call it convenience.  Either way, for those of us involved in Facebook, Twitter, Blogging, and you-name-it; we run the risk that when we put something out there, it has an effect; and that “effect” has an effect.  

One such effect of sharing with the world the state of Alvi’s health situation was an immediate outpouring of empathy, kindness and cheerleading.  For practical reasons in and of themselves, we chose to communicate often via these myriad technologies as we do have family all over the world.  A sister in Ireland.  A brother in Honduras.  Another sister in the Middle East.  Quite honestly Facebooking and this blog itself have allowed us to give detailed updates as to how Alvi was progressing, thereby eliminating considerable anxiety and concern with loved ones.  

But every upside has its downs.  In choosing to be less private about about real life, we expose ourselves to the inevitable outcome of concerned clients.  And this bothers us because as brides, we know you have enough on your plate without worrying about whether or not your photographer/cinematographer will have an issue being present on your Big Day. 

So, let me be quite clear about this.  If you are a bride or groom and have booked with Bliss, please do not be concerned about whether or not Alvi will be capable of fulfilling his contractual obligations to you as a client.  The answer is he will be a NEW MAN.  

Recovery from any surgery is about 3-4 weeks and given the scope of what he had done, we can expect a full recovery very soon.  Please hang in there.  Do not despair.  All will be well.

In the meantime, thank you for your thoughts, prayers and kind words posted online, sent over the phone and uttered in person.  We are blessed to have your support. 

ps: SUPER FUNNY.  Alvi’s best friend Collin showed up today in the hospital with a pack of soda water <his favourite carbonated bevvy> and a ball cap.  Wanna know what the ball cap read?  Nikon.  That man has quite the sense of humour.  <Alvi shoots with Canon and exclusively with Canon.  You could say he is a Canon snob>.

Warning: this post is highly personal.  It is also a bit graphic.  We are telling our story mainly for family and friends who have been concerned.  If you are a client or a lurker, feel free to skip ahead to sunnier, more relevent posts.  But if you are so inclined, you might decide to take the bait and read this dissertation, thereby gaining some valuable insight from the lessons we have learned over the last few weeks.

Hi there.  If you are a regular visitor you may have been wondering where we’ve been for the past few weeks. While it would be lovely to say we were off on location shooting the wedding of our dreams; the reality is we are at the Ottawa Heart Institute where Alvi is getting a new heart in quite the literal sense.

Initially we were hesitant to post anything related to our current situation — waffling between his desire to “keep it quiet” and my desire to be transparent — but tonight we decided to tell our story because perhaps one day it could be you and we’d like to share some vital perspective we’ve gained about life. 

Planning a wedding is no easy task, but when that blissful day arrives it can be the stuff that dreams are made of.  There is so much emphasis on the dress, the flowers, the reception venue, the food, the wine, the band… And yes, of course we do take the time to reflect on vows and the sanctity of the commitment being made.  But, it’s possible we can take for granted that those promises can and may be put to the test… perhaps sooner than we would ever imagine.  

Who knew that “in sickness and in health” would crop up just seven years into our marriage.

Alvi was born with a congenital heart defect whereby his aortic valve had two of its three leaflets fused together.  This bicuspid valve lead to a condition called severe aortic stenosis where, over time, the valve narrowed and calcified.  And because  the aortic valve works like a one-way gate to ensure that oxygen-rich blood is supplied to the body, if it becomes too narrow then the heart will fail.    

In our eleven years of togetherness I was always aware of his heart “issue” but I will confess to never really grasping the severity of it.  I knew it wasn’t so Mickey Mouse that it shouldn’t be taken seriously as we were never able to get him any life insurance.  And yet he just did not exude any sort of “I’m sick” vibe. On the contrary he was always up to something and seemingly keeping up with the rest of us.

And when you live with someone time can erode your sense of judgement…what is actually happening gradually becomes imperceptible when you spend every waking hour with a person.  Because the fact is over the last few years Alvi’s health has been going down hill and the only one who really noticed was him.  How terrible is that?

Now we always knew that one day he might need his valve full-on replaced; but both of us figured that would be something to look forward to at the ripe old age of 60-70.  Not 41.

So rewind to a few weeks ago when something must have shifted in his thinking.  A simple conversation at the gas pump lead to an intense and yet vulnerable moment when he finally spoke the words that had been churning around in his noggin for quite some time: “Sam, I am really not feeling right.”

Well that was all I needed to hear.  The phone call was made and what shocked me at the other end was the nurse who spoke the words I will never forget; “We have been just waiting for the call.  His numbers are not good.  We’ll get him in right away.”

A flood of emotions went through me; part overwhelm <for not realizing just how bad things were>; part compassion <for thinking he must have really been conflicted and scared to have kept all this inside>; to part shame <for wishing I had accompanied him to every single heart appointment so that I would have had an inkling as to his situation>.  

But I digress.  Ten days later we were on a plane and surgery was scheduled.  The days leading up to the event have been fraught with stress, anxiety and fear.  This was major open heart surgery.  They saw open the breastbone to give access to the heart; which they then stop, cool down and begin to work on.  The body is kept alive via the heart/lung machine and when all is said and done, the whole thing takes about 5 hours.  In the end the aortic valve <or what’s left of it> is completely replaced by a mechanical one.  Given his young age we chose to go with this option as opposed to the tissue valve <from a pig> as he would likely wear it out within 10 years.  The mechanical valve is designed to outlast all of us though it is not without its warts.    

Our biggest fear was something going wrong; the obvious risks one faces when on the table for surgery like this.  It stood to reason that he was alive and kicking now and did not appear to be dying or anything… how would we <I> feel should something go awry?  Indeed there were many tears shed in the few days before he went under the knife.  Discussions I never envisioned us having that needed to be had; not because we are pessimistic people; more because when you face your own mortality and you have children, there are practical things that require discussion. 

And although I just knew in my heart things would turn out ok, there is always the “what if.” The 5.5 hour wait with my mom while he was under was nearly interminable.  I realized at that moment several things: (1) I take Alvi for granted; (2) he is the best thing to have ever happened to me and (3) this was an incredible opportunity for a new start.

Seeing Dr. Maharajh emerge with the smile on his face was all I needed.  Immediate hugs were distributed to this great man who fixed my husband and then we were ushered off to a private room.  What happened next leaves me nearly speechless <and if you know me, I am hardly one to have a lack of words for anything>.  When they opened him up expecting to find his “bicuspid” valve what greeted them instead was a valve with just one leaflet.  Just one.  A small, tiny thread that had been overworked and gutted to the max trying to keep his large frame alive for the past however many years.  In his words, “this surgery has probably saved your husband’s life.  He would not have lasted the year and it would have ended badly.”  

Oh my word.  This was a shocking and critical moment for me.  To think what might have happened. These thoughts were never far from my head and heart as we were eventually lead into ICU to see the man I now call “the champ” <also affectionately dubbed “The Valvinator”>; full of tubes and completely out of it but able to squeeze my hand and utter the words “sore”.  

So enough of the misery.  What have we learned?  Well, I think it’s safe to say our marriage is as solid as a rock following the very real prospect of the alternative.  It has brought us closer together.  It has made us realize that our health is precious and we cannot take it for granted.  That we have to take care of each other and ourselves, body, mind and spirit.  

We have learned that in the face of something serious all the nagging little things we quetch about on a daily basis really just vanish away.  They are inconsequential.  Nothing matters except life itself.  It is a gift that we all should cherish and respect.  

And although we are by no means out of the woods <good Lord he only just woke up 24 hours ago> the worst is behind us and things can only go up from here.  Alvi’s recovery will be slow and steady and he’ll have a small army of loved ones getting him through the rough patches.

But wanna know what’s really cool?  For years his heart has always sounded like a sluggish “slosh slosh” when my head went to his chest at night.  And now, as I lean close I can hear a definite, regular, metric tick-tick-ticking which is the heavenly sound of his new valve working.  It is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.

In a few days we will post something more uplifting and introduce you to the new Alvi; Version 2.0!

If you do happen to be a client and you are wondering when you might be hearing from us; please know that you are on the list and that for now, just for the next few weeks, we’ll be focussing on getting him better.    

Taken from the iPhone while life zooms by in my car.

Dishes.  Dust bunnies.  Teething.  Procrastinating 5 year-olds <”Mommy I can’t sleep because I have a growing pain”; “Uh-huh… same one you’ve had for the last four months, dear?”>. Paper piling up.  Clutter.  Laundry…oh the laundry <bergs and bergs>.  

 I know, wah wah, woe is me.  But I’m needing an outlet to vent; so here goes!

Do you wonder if you will ever get “caught up?”  And by caught up, I mean completely and blissfully free of any of life’s TO DOs. I find I spend an inordinate amount of time running in 50 different directions just trying to keep up, chasing the pursuit of the proverbial empty ‘in-box’; and in the meanwhile, life is going by.  

But don’t get me wrong, I am slowly learning.  A wise, old friend once told me that when the kids are grown they will not look back and savour fond memories of their mom constantly tidying and shoveling out the clutter; what they will remember and cherish is the time that was spent with them.

So tonight I shelved all of the items on my TO DO list.  I rolled around on the ground with Saffron.  I played tag with Piper.  I just chilled.  Those kids are everything to me and maybe with practice I will learn to let go of the things that just aren’t that significant in the grand scheme.

And let us contemplate for a second; what’s one more pile of unfolded laundry?  Really, unnoticeable when the mountain is already staggering.

Hi there.  How is your April Fools Day going?
 
If you live under a rock or outside of Northwestern Ontario you might be enjoying some dry, perhaps spring-like weather.  If you hail from this neck o’ the woods, you would agree that Mother Nature has pulled a royal fast one and gotten the better of all of us.  As IF a foot and a half of snow fell last night.  Yup.  God bless our neighbours, the Beck’s, who continue to plow us out storm after storm.  

One sweet turn of events on this kooky day resulted in our dear little Maple.  My sister and brother-in-law who live in Ireland welcomed their first baby into the world, a girl they dubbed ‘Maple Margaret.’  Their namesake was shrouded in mystery throughout the entire pregnancy (driving me, the quintessential control freak crazy!) and when it was revealed today, along with the story behind it, it just made perfect sense.  So now, as the joke has gone, we have in our realm of wee ones, a tree, a spice and a bird (Maple, Saffron and Piper).  What a bunch of hippies we are……… !!  When we’re given clearance to post some pics you can bet that we will.  She’s a real beauty.

Of course our journey is rife with valleys as it is mountains.  The last few days have been painful, stressful and heart-wrenching for some people we love dearly.  Our nature is to question “why”?  Why do bad things happen to such good people?  But this is a futile question with no good answer.  All we can do is try to offer our unconditional love and support in situations like these; say lots of prayers and be ready to help pick up the pieces.  

And so in light of the intense ups and downs of the past 36 hours, I am giving thanks for the most important blessings in our life: two little rugrats whom we can never take for granted.

Hanging out in Guatemala (circa January 2009)

Paradise a.k.a. Mayan Riviera, circa March 2008

Alright.  Who’s in charge of the weather, people?  Like really.  REALLY.  Forecast is calling for 25-40 cm of the white stuff and we are just one week away from Spring.  Methinks someone is trying to torture us.  To test the depth of our thick-skinned Canadian souls.  To question the very fabric of our good-natured personalities.  

And to those of you currently lying on a beach in some pseudo nirvana-like all-inclusive (you know who you are), we say definitively, unabashedly, “yes, we are jealous.”  

Is it not the ultimate coup to fortuitously schedule your va-cay during one of the biggest dumpings of the year?  You people can all bite me!

This chair is where I want to be.  Right now.  And no, Alvi; we are not buying a snowblower tonight.  That is just playing with the fates.

As I stared at the infinite number of piles on my desk at work today, I realized that the length of time I held my gaze was directly correlated with the intensity of tingling brought on by that old familiar feeling…stress!  

Oh procrastination.  Oh you sweet, all-encompassing phenomenon.  Where would I be without you?  Would I be less stressed?  Possibly.  Or would I…?

Pondering this question has led me to reflect on the years I have spent perfecting the art thereof.  Even now, at near 10 pm which is prime-time editing for me, I sit comfortably in my jammies choosing to write about procrastination while the call from my hard drive is nothing short of deafening.  It’s saying…”Open me!”  ”Open me, you crazy woman!  What are you waiting for, you useless twit!?”

Thanks to procrastination, I have foolishly (or not) come to believe that I do my best work under pressure.  Now is this just a load of hogwash, or what?  How can we possibly be expected to perform at our most optimal when there is a metaphorical gun pointing to our heads?  I sure don’t have the answer, but somehow, someway, in my little world procrastination has very rarely let me down.

So here’s a toast to you… you scheming little devil… procrastination, my friend, my nemesis, my sometimes great success.  Zum wohl!

Piper & Saffron: new meaning to "the little things in life."

As I drove home from the office today I found myself feeling something vaguely familiar… something that had been missing for oh, let’s say about 12 months!  It was the promise of spring in the air.  I began to reflect in my 14 minutes of solace on all the little wonders in my life that have been stockpiling in my head for some time now.  Here’s a brief look at what crossed my mind:

1. Having my morning coffee just the way I like it.

2. The pride on Piper’s face when she makes her bed without asking.

3. Saffron using her babywipes to clean the back of my sweater.

4. Neighbours who kindly snowblow our end of the driveway without expectation of anything.

5. The pillow on which my head rests each night is the perfect blend of soft and firm.

6. Having that killer work-out thanks to finding the missing iPod.

7. A sudden turn of good luck with productivity at the office.

8. Seeing an old friend after 16 years.

9. Realizing there is clean underwear afterall!

10. Staring into my baby’s eyes as she drifts off to la-la-land.

11. The feeling of my husband’s arms around me.

12. Kind words spoken by a shy colleague.

13. Mom’s leftover chili arriving on my doorstep.

14. The 10 minutes of solitude in the shower each morning.

15. The quiet little chuckle in response to a friend’s clever status update on FB.

Thank you, universe, for all of life’s little blessings.