maybe it was the neuroblastoma...

one of the things i struggle with is the fact that i have no memory of my life before the age of 5 years.  okay, i do have one memory.  it's of standing in a wide open 'shower' while someone poured ice cold buckets of water over my head.  i don't know if this is true or a figment of my imagination, but it seems to me a kid might remember a thing like that.

the other thing that bothers me greatly is not having a family health history to draw upon. sure, it makes filling out paperwork at the doctor's office much faster, but it would be nice to know if my family has a history of breast cancer or heart disease or mental illness or...

for christmas, my husband ordered a genetic testing kit for me.  for most people, this sort of gift might seem strange (unless you were really into genetics or had some extra money lying around and just wanted to know - these kits aren't cheap...).  but, for me it's an opportunity to peek into my possible past/family history and future with 79 test results.

anyway, i just got my results back and it turns out i have a gene marker that says i am at increased risk for neuroblastoma, a rare but curable cancer mostly found in children under the age of 5 years.  

when i was adopted, i had very little hair.  i had stubble.  my adopted parents told me they shaved all the kid's heads to prevent the spread of lice.  that's what the orphanage told them. over the last few years, i've met several adoptees who were adopted at an older age (e.g. old enough to have hair) through the same adoption agency.  none of them had shaved heads.  my little sister, who was adopted at the same time didn't have a shaved head either.  i had accepted the lice explanation my whole life, but after reading about neuroblastoma, my mind has opened to the possibility of cancer.

if i think about it, it's plausible.  my parents couldn't afford to pay for medical treatment, so they put me in an orphanage where they knew i might have a better chance of survival.  my adopted mother told me just a couple years ago there was a church in the south (in the states) that sponsored my sister and i, sending money, clothes, etc.  maybe this money went to pay for medical treatment!??!  and, the reason i wouldn't know about the cancer was because kids with a history of cancer are not adoptable, but kids with curable cancer who've been treated are (just don't tell anyone - what would be the point?  besides, i've heard too many stories of adoption agencies lying about the age, health, etc. of a child just to sell them faster - um, i mean adopt them out to lovely families...).  

the last piece of the puzzle that fits is that my medical report from the orphanage states that i had 'old scars'.  i still have them.  it makes me sad every time i see them, not knowing where they came from, not having a mother who can tell me the story of how i got them.

anyway, i know the chances of my cancer story being true are pretty slim, but i suppose that's the point.  anything could have happened.  something as simple as losing my mother in a busy marketplace.  or something as complicated as cancer.  i live every day with the history of the first five years of my life in my body.  i know i carry memories of those years somewhere - it kills me that i can't find them... 

the 'good' news is that i have the 'long life' gene and a marker that puts me at substantially lower risk for developing bipolar disorder.  my chances of living to 100 years is higher than the average person, so chances are good i have a lot of history yet to write in this body of mine and a sane mind to remember with.

seriously??

my mother called me the other day to tell me my 'cousin' (not really a cousin but a close friend of the family) is thinking about adopting two children from africa which didn't surprise me as she has often waxed poetic about how great it would be to have black children...  

my 'cousin' has blonde hair and blue eyes, as does her husband and their biological sons.  this is not where i have the issue (though i'm not a big supporter of transnational/racial adoptions).  i have a huge issue with her political and religious views.  growing up, we spent nearly every weekend together.  and, although we seemed to get along just fine, i never felt safe or close to her as she constantly said things like, 'you're so lucky god saved you from your life in korea' and 'i'm sure you would have ended up a diseased prostitute, living on the street if your parents didn't save you'.  i thought she might have grown/educated herself out of these views, but unfortunately she hasn't.  i spoke to her a few months ago and was appalled when she mentioned how lucky i was to find a great husband and that i never would have found that in korea as i would have been 'dead or at best a diseased prostitute, living on the street'.  i kid you not.  she's my age, has two small children, wants to adopt two children of african descent, and still to this day believes my fate was sealed had i remained in korea.

so, i told my mother about my cousin's views and how i didn't think she was a good candidate to adopt (not even bringing up her dismal financial situation...not that you have to we wealthy to adopt, but let's face it, adoption is a business - and, quite frankly, her family is one paycheck away from being homeless). 

anyway, when i told her about the 'diseased prostitute' and 'being saved' comments and now nobody should ever say that to anybody EVER, she actually agreed.  WILD!!!

but THEN not one minute later she said, 'no, i don't think you would have ended up a diseased prostitute on the streets, but maybe if you were from thailand'.  WHOA!!!  

the second i think i've made some progress with my mother, she takes a million steps backwards...with all the resources out there for adoptive parents, she is still living in the dark ages.    

maybe it was the tb!?!?

i just finished reading 'once they hear my name', a compilation of interview/memoirs of korean american adoptees.  The very last adoptee in the book was adopted when she was six or seven years old and is very grateful (how i loathe that word...) to have been adopted as she had tuberculosis and presumed her birth family couldn't afford to pay the medical bills (she has memories of living in a humble hut overlooking rice fields).  in the orphanage, with the financial support of her adopted family, she was treated for the tb and was nursed back to health before being sent to live with them.  

this got me thinking...i'm sure it's not the healthiest thing to do, but i'm sure i'm not the only adoptee who wonders why she was abandoned.  there are no notes in my file about the circumstances of my relinquishment into the orphanage system in korea.  the only bit of information alludes to a police station.  i was adopted at the age of 5 years with my (supposed) biological sister (she was 2 years old).  it's hard to imagine why our parents would give us up after years of parenting.  i couldn't imagine giving up my four year old dog let alone a child.  i've often imagined they must have been in a horrible accident and died.  or maybe our father left our mother and she could no longer care for us.  or maybe we're not really sisters, but half sisters (we're not alike at all) and when our father discovered he did not father the youngest child, he left.  i don't know.  there are endless possibilities as to what could have happened. chances are good, i will never know.

but reading this adoptee's profile/story got me thinking about just one more possibility. my sister had tb.  it's noted on her intake papers from the orphanage.  i remember her having to take medicine for a long time when we went to live with our adopted family.  maybe our family was so poor they couldn't pay for her medical treatment?  and maybe they thought it would be best to keep us together??  or maybe they tried to pay her bills, ran out of money and couldn't afford to keep either one of us...

why oh why were we abandoned!??!?!  

maybe it was the tb...

racism??

i try really hard to see the best in people, to imagine their best intentions, but try as i may it's very hard to ignore something that can be construed as racism.  and, to be honest, i'm becoming painfully aware of it in my new (predominantly caucasian) city of residence.  

i'm filling in at my husband's place of work for someone while they're on vacation.  my official job is working in the restaurant's wine shop, but i also share hostess duties when it gets busy. so, last night was my first busy night, and i got a front seat view of how the hostess and management treat their guests.  

it's no surprise that people up here routinely run late for their reservations (they take the 'laid back' california lifestyle to a whole new level...).  so, a lot of parties arrived all at once, forcing people's reservations to be pushed back by 10-15 minutes.  realizing we were running late, one of the managers who had been working the hostess station all night offered to buy drinks for several parties as soon as they arrived.  there was one party, though, that did not get get this offer (and had to wait a full 20 minutes past their reservation time for their table, at least five minutes longer than anyone else...open table's detailed 'arrival' and 'seated' time supports this finding).

the party that missed out on a comped round of drinks was asian.  and, all the other waiting parties (with free cocktails in hand) were caucasian.  i hate it when people say asian people are 'the other white meat' as if we never face any kind of discrimination.  to make matters worse, the asian party's table was cleared minutes after they arrived.  apparently, the manager and hostess (both caucasian) were waiting for the table to be set before seating them.  i realize i don't have a lot of foh experience, but i have worked in the hospitality industry long enough to know:

a.  it's not nice to keep people waiting, especially when they have a reservation

b.  if you must keep them waiting, offer them something...anything

c.  if they do have to wait, then what they're waiting for better be worth it

d. if you're a manager, then you should manage.  the manager should have made sure the table was set up asap by one of her floor staff, and if for some reason they were all busy, then she should have taken the task upon herself (honestly, she had the time...and if they had been 'vip', i'm sure she would have).

132 people dined last night.  several more were turned away at the door due to lack of available tables.  of all these people, only two parties were asian (both with reservations).  the rest were caucasian.  the first asian party had early reservations, so seating them wasn't an issue.  the second party arrived 5 minutes early and ended up waiting 20 minutes past their reservation time.  

i thought about this all last night, double checking the open table time stats, trying to figure out why this asian party was made to wait without any commendations offered for their long wait. try as i may to find another explanation (though i suppose i can't be totally objective), my mind keeps coming back to the r word - racism...

searching

i have been grappling with the idea of starting a formal birth parent search for several years.  i know i've always wanted to find them, but something has kept me from looking - probably fear. fear of finding a truth i don't want to know, fear of being rejected by them, fear of not having anything in common with them, fear of discovering i don't have the support system i need to get through it all.

this whole 'dealing with my status as a korean adoptee' has been completely overwhelming.  i don't know if this is true for other adoptees, but i feel like i can only deal with my issues for short periods of time because it would be too much to take on all at once - like a damn holding back a raging river.  if you open it all at once, all the potential energy in the river could have devastating effects on the nearby land.  but, if you open it just a little and slowly let the water flow through, it will be okay.  

only i can't seem to find that 'open just a little' switch.  

i have only two switches - open and closed.  

i open the dam and find myself drowning and when i can't take anymore, i close it up until i've recovered enough to open it once more.  

anyway, i know i have a lot of water yet to let through the dam but lately the waters seem to have changed a little.  i feel stronger somehow and think i'm finally ready to start my search.