Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society

Kenya Day 4 Thursday Murang’a

Laurie Kelley August 17, 2011

We achieved our dream: our team summited Kilimanjaro on Wednesday morning, August 10, at 6:54 am, and raised over $52,000! I’ll give a detailed blog about that but let me finish up with Nairobi first.

We were thrilled to hear that Eric Hill, president of BioRx and a sponsor, and his 14-year-old son Alex were finally arriving in Nairobi this morning, August 4, at 6:30 am. Their flight Tuesday was delayed in DC, which caused them to miss a connection, then they spent a day or so in Europe waiting for another flight to get out. The worst part is that their luggage containing their climbing gear disappeared! All the climbing gear needed for Kilimanjaro was in limbo. We thought they must be tired, and we had a full day of family visits ahead out in Murang’a, about a two-hour drive from Nairobi. Amazingly, they wanted to go straight from the airport, meet us at the hotel and come with us.

They were in for an amazing day. After introductions to Maureen Miruka, president of the Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society-Kenya, and Paul Kamau, person with hemophilia who also works for the JMHS, Isaac and Adam, young men with hemophilia and volunteers, Jagadish, who has a son with hemophilia and is a board member, we all piled into the van and headed out. With us: Julie Winton, RN, of BioRx; Kara Ryan (20), medical student; Alex and Eric Hill, Jeff Salantai (31), person with hemophilia, of BioRx; and my daughter. Battling thick Nairobi traffic, we reached Murang’a in two hours and first stopped at the Murang’a District Hospital. Driving up the red clay road and driveway, this was our team’s first look at a county hospital in the developing world.

Murang’a is where a whopping 80% of the JMHS’s hemophilia patients reside. Maureen and her team have done exceptional outreach to locate the patients. We met with Dr. Charles Kigo, chief of the hospital and Dr. Nguyo, who treats the hemophilia patients, and they were amazed to meet Jeff Salantai, who has hemophilia and is healthy, physically fit and strong. Dr. Kigo kept eyeing him up and down in amazement. Jeff shared his treatment regimen and lifestyle. We also presented the doctors with a gift of much-needed factor.

We toured the wards and were able to see the conditions of rural healthcare, a place where 40% of births still happen in homes. The waiting room is outside, with bench seats, protected from the elements only by a tin roof. There is a nice neonatal ward, which is nonetheless in need of a new paint job and incubators for preemies. One hemophilia patient was admitted, Zakayo, who I wrote about in April 2010, when I visited him in Muthare, the psychiatric ward in Nairobi. The poor young man had been traumatized by rioters, and admitted. Now, he was in the county hospital to treat a bleed. Still, he needed a few more tests before being released, which he could not afford. We gladly paid the bill to get him released the next day and return home.

Next stop: Peter’s home, my second visit here. Peter is Zakayo’s brother, and also has hemophilia; he looked great on this day. His home was just a quick ride up a dirt road from the hospital. Our team sat with Peter and his mother to hear how they cope with hemophilia. They were able to look about and see their poverty: a small, two room home for four adults and one child. No place to cook; the mother must cook outside in a pot. They own a bunk bed, an old couch, a small table and chair set, a bookshelf and one bed for the mother. The mother is single and pays heavily for rent and electricity. She cannot afford these things. Some days she cannot feed her children. And she must look for odd jobs because she cannot hold a steady job; the boys require too much care. How will she live? We gave her some money to help her stay solvent, pay her electricity bill in arrears, and vowed to help more.

The images of poverty continue to assault us as we moved on. Next stop: Stanley.

I met Stanley in April 2010. He was in a new location now, again a short drive from the hospital but situated off the main road, on a dirt road and down a dirt path. There’s no electricity or plumbing. They use candles, and an outhouse. Stanley has a small “farm”: one cow and some vegetables. He told us about how difficult it is to farm with joint contractures. He wants to start a business, being a street vendor selling shoes. It would cost $400 to get started, to purchase the initial inventory of shoes, and Maureen and I immediately considered him for our new micro-loan program. Our team was able to ask questions about his treatment, bleeding episodes, and life day to day. His wife is pregnant with their third child. This was an eye-opener for our team, to truly see how the other half lives. Hemophilia in such a place can be a death warrant. Julie immediately saw the need for home infusion, something that is unheard of in most developing countries. Our goal will be to break this mindset and get as many patients as possible on home infusion. We presented Stanley with his Save One Life money.

Alex began handing out candy to the many children who gathered to see the strange parade of foreigners, and they giggled and jumped with excitement! The children followed Alex and the team right up to the van windows, hoping to catch more.

Last stop before heading back to Nairobi was at the house of Virginia, Paul’s aunt. She remembered me and greeted each of us as if we were long lost family members! We all got a kick out of her enthusiastic hugs and megawatt smile. This is a beautiful lady with an incredible face etched with character. Again, the extended family lives in a jungle or forest: dirt floors, no windows, and no electricity or plumbing. They farm a few vegetables. The biggest shock was seeing little Derrick, who has a sponsor in the US. Last year’s photo showed an adorable little two year old with hemophilia. Now, he had suffered a fall, hit his head, and had a massive swelling on his forehead. Luckily, Derrick is well cared for by the JMHS, and has been receiving treatment. But with no car, no public transport, families like this are stranded! Dr. Michael Wood, founder of AMREF, the Flying Doctors of Kenya, once said that in Africa, you cannot wait for patients to come and see you; you must go see them or they will die. This is the foundation upon which Save One Life operates—we must see the patients, note their needs, and empower them. Home infusion is the only way.

I’m happy to say that all of the patients we visited have sponsors, and their sponsorship money makes a huge difference in their lives. They struggle for every single Kenyan shilling they earn, just to survive. Our dollars improve their lives instantly, giving them money needed for transportation, medicine, food and vitamins. On this visit, our team saw first-hand the difference Save One Life in partnership with the JMHS is making.

Do you want to sponsor a Kenyan child with hemophilia? Please visit www.saveonelife.net! They need your support!

Kenya Day 3: MP Shah Hospital Tour

Laurie Kelley August 5, 2011

Having a good discussion is like having riches. Kenyan proverb

Chilly weather continued in Nairobi, probably about 65 degrees. Jeff Salantai, Julie Winton, Kara Ryan and my daughter were all up by 7 am for a delicious buffet breakfast. Today we stayed in Nairobi, to visit the Health Ministry, the MP Shah Hospital, and the patients. Maureen again met us at the Southern Sun Hotel after breakfast and we set out in considerably less traffic. Within 30 minutes we arrived at the Health Ministry. We were disappointed to learn that Dr. William Maina, the director of non-communicable disease department, whom I met last year, was unable to join us due to a meeting. He did, however, graciously come to the parking lot to say hello and greet the American visitors.

With time on our hands, all dressed up and nowhere to go, Maureen took us to the Westland market to buy souvenirs. My colleagues were all first-timers to Africa, and Africa has a beautiful and colorful array of gifts: from Masai warrior shields in red leather, to stone carved animals, to pottery, beaded jewelry and the colorful Masai blankets made of wool. All at bargain prices! Everyone got an opportunity to bargain the prices, although most Americans are not comfortable doing this. We did have with us Paul Kamau, Adam, Isaac and Jagadish, who helped translate and then negotiate. There were so many vendors, with blankets spread on the concrete, wares displayed, hawking for our attention. Jeff and I decided to visit the vendors in the rear, as they seemed neglected. We laughed that it was like a hemophilia meeting, where the vendors in the front often get all the traffic!

We decided to have a sit down lunch (when traveling to the field to visit patients we often skip lunch entirely!) and Jagadish, who is Kenyan but also Indian, suggested a good Indian restaurant. The food was amazingly good and we relaxed and had many laughs. Our favorite moment was when Julie mistook the jalapeño pepper for a green bean (a green bean, Julie?) and we caught her reaction on film!

After lunch came the real purpose of the day: to tour the MP Shah Hospital and then meet the patients. Dr. Paresh Dave, hematologist, took us on a tour of the beautiful, private hospital, where many hemophilia patients find expert treatment. Julie especially was intrigued with their level of care. The hospital is clean and efficient. When asked what he needed that we could help supply for his hospital, we were surprised to learn that Dr. Dave requested butterfly needles! Imagine. The things we often toss away if they are not the preferred size in our factor box. Julie was proud to relay that Alex (still en route to Africa at that point), age 16, had solicited two pallets of medical supplies for the MP Shah and shipped them, courtesy of his dad, Eric Hill. Though delayed in customs, the shipment was in Nairobi and butterflies were on their way.

After the tour, we went into the lecture room to meet the patients. I was beaming with joy to see so many I had met over the past two years. Flora, a lovely woman whose son Victor had passed away at age 15, just four years ago. Florence Odwar, who we had just visited on Monday, and her daughter Moline, who has VWD; Charles, who I had visited last year at his home, far outside Nairobi, now living in Nairobi and working, and proud father of baby Alvin; Gladys with son Justus and nephew Kevin, who wants to be a doctor. I gave lots of hugs to so many I knew; the Kenyans are truly warm and gracious, and really know how to make you feel welcome!

Dr. Dave opened with a warm and even funny speech about how much they have progressed as a team, and how he will commit to continue to help. Maureen reviewed the history of their society, and complimented her team on their help. She stressed the importance of patient and parent involvement. I also gave a brief speech to remind everyone that our foreign visitors were here to raise funds, so that we would have the money to start micro loans and scholarships through Save One Life, our nonprofit that works at a grassroots level in developing countries.

Flora spoke, Kevin spoke… it was very heart wrenching to hear of the loss of some children, but stunning to know even those who lost children are still working with the society so that other families would not suffer. These include Maureen herself, whose five-year-old son Jose died just four years ago.

Maureen asked Julie, Jeff, Kara and my daughter to say a little something, so each guest got up and spoke. Jeff was very emotional in thanking everyone, as he realized fully his blessings in life compared to those with hemophilia in Kenya. Julie could barely speak as she was overcome with emotion, facing the towering strength and dignity of the parents, despite their losses and suffering; Kara thanked everyone for the privilege of letting them be a part of their lives.

After the speeches, we had tea and snacks, and Maureen and I handed out toys we had brought from the States. Stuffed animals are not common in Kenya, so these were a prized commodity! We also gave away kazoos, balls and T-shirts.

Julie had a brilliant and spontaneous idea: with all the patients present, why not conduct a home-infusion workshop? She simply got to work, and found her first volunteer. Many of the children have very hard-to-find veins, but Julie is a pro! Before she knew it, every patient in the room lined up for an infusion. In fact, we left her there to go back to the hotel to work out!

Kilimanjaro looms in our mind and I was getting a bit nervous not working out, after an intense two months of working out. I hit the gym and gave a good hour of cardio. We joined Julie, Jeff and Kara later than evening for a light dinner to review the remarkable day. “Having the good discussions” by the patients, and the home visits yesterday, have given them all a good slice of how Africans live with hemophilia, their obstacles to care and the culture that keeps patients quiet and uncomplaining.

Yeah, they are in love with Africa. I knew it would happen, as it happened to me, too, long ago.

Kenya Day 2: Return to Simon’s farm

Laurie Kelley August 4, 2011

Nobody walks with another man’s gait. —Kenyan proverb

Tuesday, August 2, was Day 2 of our African odyssey. We were up early to have breakfast in the outdoor dining area of the Southern Sun Hotel. It was very cool, and we ate poolside and had a wonderful breakfast of hot tea, eggs, rolls and fresh fruit. Julie, Kara, Jeff and I reviewed our plans for the day, which involved driving to Nyahururu, over four hours, to see Simon, a hemophilia patient. Despite some jet lag, everyone was excited to have this adventure.

Maureen Miruka drove up around 8, along with a van, and several members of the Jose Memorial Hemophila Society—Paul Kamua, secretary at the society, Adam, and Isaac, all of whom have hemophilia. The biggest problem in Nairobi is traffic, which held us up for almost two hours. We finally broke free and hit the highway, unexpectedly spotting a lovely little herd of zebras alongside the road. The highway was deteriorating and very bumpy. We were jostled around for four and a half hours, until we finally came to Nyahururu. Along the way we passed lush countryside, and had a brief pause at the famed Rift Valley! Everyone admired the beautiful Masai blankets, did a little souvenir shopping and haggling before climbing back in.

Once in Nyahururu, we sought out Simon’s home. I had been here just last year to see Simon, and was really struck with how isolated he was. We climbed the rich red soil road, twisting and turning around every bend, rocks churning under our tires, until we reached his farm on top of a hill.

His farm gives a spectacular view of Kenya, and the sun was shining brilliantly. We piled out, and stumbled our way up the path through his farm. Scampering about were three yellow dogs: a mother and her two pups. One of the pups I easily recognized from last year. Now grown, he remained as friendly as he was last year, though his brother was completely untrusting. Chickens clucked about, and the family gathered around to welcome us.

Simon has a cell phone and texts me now and then, but aside from a cell phone, there wasn’t a single luxury. No electricity, no plumbing. We all used the outhouse, which was actually the cleanest outhouse I have ever used, and I have used many. There is something to be said for simple, optioned-style rural living. I imagine the stars are spectacular from his farm. Still, there is no doubt: Simon lives in total rural poverty.

As we sat down to a homemade lunch of fresh-killed chicken and nutritious mokina, a national dish made of pumpkin leaves, we all asked Simon questions about his knees, health and treatment of hemophilia. His knee remains completely unstable from the deterioration of the joint. Simon is one of the few in Kenya who knows how and is allowed to self-infuse. This is great, because it means he can infuse immediately when he has a bleed, which will spare him much pain and crippling.

As we ate, I looked about his interior: sheet metal roofing (very noisy when it rains), and two-by-fours covered with—get this—stapled cardboard. Very crude, very poor. Yet we ate delicious, fresh food that could have been served in any restaurant!

After lunch came a mug of steaming hot tea. Then a trip up the hill to the outdoor “mountain spring water” which pipes down to an outdoor pump. We can imagine that this is what our American ancestors had to deal with two hundred years ago!

Simon has been asking for a micro-loan so he can start a business, and our Kilimanjaro mountain climb can definitely help him accomplish this. I am really hoping to write within the year to let you all (or “y’all,” as Jeff likes to say) know that Simon got his micro loan and his business is underway. I’m counting on it, and it’s part of what motivates me to climb!

After a lovely afternoon with Simon, his brothers Richard and John, we gathered ourselves together and hit the road. Another 4.5 hours back to Nairobi and we were exhausted. Whenever we thought we were tired or sore, we all thought of Simon, what it must feel like to travel all this way to Nairobi for treatment, when you are also enduring a horrible bleed. It seems inconceivable, and made us silence any complaints. Simon, limping, in pain, still wants to start a business and do something with his life. For a brief time, Simon allowed us that rare opportunity to walk in another man’s shoes. Now we know what he needs—a micro loan—and now we can pool resources to make this happen.

Kenya Day 1: At the Harvest

Laurie Kelley August 2, 2011

At the harvest, you know how good the millet is. Kenyan proverb

I have been traveling to developing countries for 15 years and usually travel alone. When I reach my destination, my hosts become my companions for the duration. This trip is quite different: I have my daughter with me, and three other Americans I hardly know. Sometimes you worry about how newbies will act when confronted with extreme poverty, pain and all the inconveniences of the developing world. I didn’t have to worry. We’ve only spent two solid days together, but it’s clear we have bonded and are excited about helping Kenya, learning from its people, and the upcoming Kilimanjaro climb.

The only bad news is that Eric Hill and son Alex are stuck in Switzerland, when they should have arrived tonight! And worse, Eric’s climbing gear is missing!

But our trip has been uneventful as far as bad luck goes, and eventful as far as mission goes. We arrived Sunday after a 12-hour delay in Paris. Kara, 20, a medical student, and Jeff Salantai, who has hemophilia and also works for BioRx, had already arrived on Saturday.

We met Sunday afternoon with Maureen Miruka, president and founder of the Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society-Kenya, and her colleague Kehio Chege, who has a son with hemophilia. We mapped out the coming week in detail. Lots of patient visits, a TV spot, a meeting at the health ministry, and a meeting at the MP Shah Hospital.

So I’m back in Kenya, a country I have grown to love, for my fourth visit. It is lush, green, rich with red soil, and bustling with people. The Kenyans are soft-spoken and polite as a whole. With a population of about 41 million, there are an estimated 3,000-4,000 people with hemophilia. But only about 400-500 people have been identified. The country purchases no factor, and remains dependent on donations from the WFH and Project SHARE. Our goal is to visit the Save One Life beneficiaries, while introducing Jeff, Kara, Julie, Eric, and Alex to Kenya, Africa and the needs of those with hemophilia.

On Monday we were up early in the surprisingly chilly weather, and headed out to visit patients around Nairobi. We battled the traffic (called “jams”) for 90 minutes, just to go a few miles! First stop was in a very deteriorated project, with trash piles and low-lying laundry wires. Jacob is a 30-year-old with hemophilia A, who is very crippled. We all crammed into his sister’s small home, and learned a little about his life. It’s hard sometimes to hear of patients’ stories of suffering and pain, when they have not had access to factor. Jacob has a small business, selling used shoes by the side of the road. He hasn’t been able to work lately due to the numerous bleeds in his leg. He earned about $80 a month.

He wants to set up a new business, “tent making.” We learned what he meant is a tent-rental business. But to do this, he needs capital to get started. Well, Maureen and I have already discussed setting up a micro loan program for the adults and young men. Rather than just give them money, which is tempting to squander, the micro loan will ensure they will pay back the loan by working through a bank. Part of the proceeds of the Kilimanjaro climb will be used to start the micro loan program.

Jacob was having an active bleed as we were there, and Julie, still very jet-lagged, skillfully gave him an infusion of factor in the home! It’s amazing considering this is not only Julie’s first trip to Africa and it’s only day 2, but it’s her first trip outside the US!

While she cleaned up the medical supplies, Jeff and Jacob compared war wounds!

While saying our good-byes, the neighborhood children gathered round. We played catch with them and I snapped photos and then showed them the photos in the viewer, which delighted them to no end. Dozens of children romped about in the project square, with no adults supervising them.

On to Michael’s house. Michael is a sweet-tempered, charming youth of 21, wheelchair bound. He lives in a very small home, just two rooms and a small kitchen. Michael suffered a stroke in 2008, and has had epilepsy since, in addition to his factor VIII deficiency. His father Anthony just lost his job, and his mother’s company is downsizing and she fears losing her job, and then home. They live life on the edge. Michael’s medical concerns have overwhelmed the poor family. He is paralyzed on half his body. They have no car, and must use public transportation, in all that traffic. We can only imagine how difficult it is to get this young man into a wheelchair, down the street, on to a bus, and then to a hospital. Julie looked at his CT scans and saw the damage done to his brain. “One half his brain is dead,” said his mother. Yet Michael spoke very well, and told us he dreams of being a doctor one day, or at least to work with the JMHS-K to help the children with hemophilia, like him. I think we all had tears in our eyes when we left.

Michael needs a sponsor desperately, so please consider sponsoring him!

Another patient we visited was Stephen. He lives in his aunt’s nice home, which is large and clean. His primary family lives “upcountry” and they have given Steve to his aunt to be raised. The mother, simple and uneducated, thinks Steve has an evil spirit living in him—why else would he have this mysterious disorder? The aunt works for a bank, and is not a young woman, and also cares for other relatives. Steve doesn’t get to see his mother or sisters very much. On top of all this, his father just died in May. The aunt showed me a photo of a tall, handsome man. Life is so hard and brief here!

Last of all, we visited the Odwars, who I have visited three times in three years now! Daughter Moline and son Jovan have von Willebrand Disease. We hugged and hugged, and I finally gave Jovan something I had been saving all year—art supplies. He is a prolific sketcher and artist! Our group was very humbled by their small home, yet impressed by their immaculate attire and manners. It was heart wrenching to hear that they were 6 months in arrears with rent payement, and were being threatened to be homeless. We quickly paid off the rent, which brought tears of relief. All too soon we had to move on.

At dinner, back at the hotel, eating steaks at the “Golden Spur,” which ironically is decorated like the South West, Texan Jeff happily said he would sponsor Steve. As always, when you meet these amazing people, who live in poverty, with personal loss, pain that never yields, and a gentle grace, you come away feeling more grateful, more blessed, more compassionate and more powerful—you realize you have the power to change someone’s life.

I am already feeling a harvest from our trip, and know that these new friends in our lives represent the rich millet that can only produce such a harvest.

More bogging will come soon!

When Everyone Lifts

Laurie Kelley July 25, 2011

Few burdens are heavy when everyone lifts. —African proverb

I am in Kenya at last! For the first time, I am bringing a team with me. On this trip, to Kenya first, then to scale Kilimanjaro, everyone lifts!

We had a long flight: Julie Winton, a nurse with BioRx, arrived in Boston on Thursday, and I drove down to meet her and whisk her away to my home. We reviewed the gear and equipment for Kilimanjaro, and weighed our bags. Mine was 16.5 pounds; hers was 44.5. While I gloated, Julie pointed out how little I had by way to thermal/arctic clothing. She scared me into buying more. She said it was -5 degrees on Kili!

So we packed and repacked all night, and on Friday morning, we drove to EMS to buy a sleeping back liner and heavier socks. Much better!

At 3 pm our ride arrived. I was shocked to see a stretch limo–a surprise from my assistant. And we need it–we had six huge bags, filled to the max, and two carry-ons each, also filled.

A seven-hour flight to Paris only to face a delayed flight by 12 hours, a rented hotel room in Paris, then an 8.5 hour flight at 11 pm last night, landing us in Nairobi this morning. Julie didn’t sleep all night.

Nairobi is beautiful: the air is cool and dry, the streets clear for once. Cattle are shooed along by a barefoot boy, alongside motorbikes and cars that seemingly mocking him as they whiz by. We pull up to the Southern Sun Hotel, just last year the Holiday Inn. When I check in, the staff says, “You’ve been here before.” Two other times, in fact! I know this place well.

We relax, unpack. Later, our colleague, Maureen Miruka, founder and president of the Jose Memorial Hemophilia Society visits. While sipping tea, we discuss how we will most likely invest the up to $45,000 we have gleaned from our climbing proceeds. For that is what we are doing: investing in the future of hemophilia in Africa.

While Kenya is a model African country, the country is currently faced with an influx of refugees. Conflicts in the Horn of Africa have driven more than 1,300 refugees a day, the vast majority from embattled Somalia, into the Dadaab refugee camps in Kenya – now the world’s largest humanitarian crisis, with almost 400,000 refugees in three camps designed for 90,000.

Short-term efforts by humanitarian groups include improvements including safe water and sanitation, improved security, and access to health services and emergency shelter.

For now, this doesn’t touch us. We will focus on the crisis of hemophilia. At dinner we sat around, told stories, and prepped for tomorrow, when we will go to the homes of the poor, to see how hemophilia is not just endured but survived.

Interesting Book I Just Read
A Stolen Life by Jaycee Dugard

I have to review this book with two hats: one as a human being and mother; the other as an editor. And it wasn’t easy in either case. Jaycee Dugan’s story has made headlines for the past two years; in 1991, at age 11, while walking to the bus stop for school, she was tasered and abducted by a married couple. For the next eighteen years, she was held in crude captivity until her rescue in 2009. She suffered years of what can only be described as sexual and psychological torture, living in a tent in the backyard, unseen by the world. She survived by learning to adapt, giving in to the perverse needs of her captors, and eventually gave birth to two daughters, the first when she was only 14 years old. Her case made headlines also as a horrific example of the failures of the legal system: Garrido was a known pedophile, and parole officers who visited the home numerous times never once looked in the back yard, where they would have seen Jaycee.

Jaycee’s memoir is honest, direct, and spares no detail. You will marvel at how a child survived such abuse; you may cry as you read this, or even stop reading it. Jaycee was never allowed to use her own name, was deprived of all books, TV and human contact other than Philip Garrido for months. Eventually, she lived vicariously through the TV and internet, and gained access to the main house, but always returned to her crude tent, where there was no plumbing or luxuries. By complying, she won favors, such as outings and even helping the Garridos run a printing business. She never, ever forgot who she was, that this was wrong, and prayed that someone would recognize her. She is filled with longing for her mother, which is perhaps the most poignant part of the book. The book is a testament not only to Jaycee’s strong spirit but to the human spirit and how, even in a child, it can triumph over the worst of circumstances. Jaycee is not filled with hate, does not feel entitled, and has moved on with her life. She is now a lady who is dignified, calm and impressive.

As an editor, I do need to point out objectively that the book is not well written. It took only a night to read, was riveting, but uneven, choppy and skips vast amounts of time in her captivity. It’s told only from her point-of-view, which is fine, but the book would have been so much better in the hands of an experienced writer who could have brought more of what was happening with efforts to find her, and her mother’s experience. The book feels like it was written by a child, and in many ways it was, as Jaycee’s education ended so abruptly in fifth grade, and she endured so much. More time was spent describing her numerous pets than her own children—these are odd things psychologically, and even endearing, but makes the book a bit frustrating to read. Still, I highly recommend it. Jaycee is a classy lady and perhaps the bravest one we can imagine, to share her experiences. I think she may have shared too soon, however; perhaps over time she can pen another, which will provide more insight from her as an adult. My rating refers to the content and my regard for the author, and less the style. Three stars.