I was thinking this morning---after I managed to stick my foot deep into my own mouth in front of a bunch of people, YAY!---about various cliches. Like, there should be something to describe the feeling of entering the third month of your kid's hospitalization and still not knowing 1) when she might be coming home, 2) if she's truly getting better, 3) if the #*&%^ Medicaid approval is ever coming, 4) if life will ever feel normal again. That's far too long and messy, and you know what? 90% of people do not want to hear about it, anyway. In the end (of the foot-in-mouth scenario) I had to...
I knew, of course, that yesterday would be a hard day. Days when we see Chickadee for family therapy are hard, because she is not exactly what you would call pro-therapy. Things are better---so much better---than they used to be there, really. There is no longer screaming and throwing things, for example. But I'm pretty sure that if she had the option of passing on this particular exercise, she would. Sadly, she's not in charge and we cruelly demand that she be tortured with our attempts to restore a workable family life (because we are monsters). The fact that we parted with her angry at us...
I've been thinking a lot lately about the notion of things you "have" to have or that are worth working towards. In a lot of ways, life was simpler when my biggest concerns were packing lunches and getting some work done every day. On the other hand, there's nothing like a good old-fashioned family crisis to make the difference between "important" and "totally not a big deal" crystal clear. Thanks to the Olympics, I find myself wondering what it must be like to have single-minded determination to reach a specific goal. I can only wonder, of course, as I have lots of different goals. Like,...
There's a part of me---rather a large part of me, actually---that wants to just walk away from the blog and leave the last post up forever as the latest and greatest thing I'll ever have to say. Because there is simply no topping the generosity you've shown over the last week, and little better in recent memory for us than the giddy anticipation of taking Chickadee on an outing after so long apart. Our Saturday afternoon adventure was 99% wonderful. We met up with a staff contact who ushered us around back to unload our donation bounty directly into a basement office, then came back around...
I have been so busy giddily anticipating an avalanche of tampons (thank you so much to everyone who has donated---updates coming soon!) that I totally forgot to tell you that I have a new post over at Feel More Better, this time about things working out as they're supposed to, most of the time. Someone has already asked how we can continue to believe in a "everything is for the best" sort of stance when there's so much apparently senseless tragedy in the world, and I don't know the answer. All I know is that I'm happier when I can find those elusive silver linings (like an army of readers...
Today my Chickadee has been in residential treatment for 36 days. (Not that we're counting.) She was in acute care for five days before that, so the total 41 days she's been away is by far the longest we've ever been apart. I keep waiting for it to get easier. Joke's on me, because it doesn't. We have a treatment planning meeting today. Recent comments from her doctor are... not encouraging. I have to get over feeling sick and scared and get my game face on and keep advocating and forget that I only slept three hours last night and that I doubt my ability to keep doing this. We just keep...
So my new (awesome) therapist commented to me this morning that in her experience, people fall into one of two categories: Either they are worriers---chronically agonizing over absolutely everything---or they tend not to worry at all, even in situations where it's appropriate and advantageous to do so. I bet you have NO IDEA which category I tend to fall into. (I'm hilarious!) This leads to a lot of talking about this concept of "radical acceptance" (which I will leave for you to Google if you so choose), which basically boils down to a philosophy of "These things just ARE, and cannot be...
I bought myself a fancy new dehydrator. Wait; that's not entirely true. I did ORDER myself that fancy new dehydrator, but I didn't pay for it. I had some credit laying around over at Fab.com and one day instead of boutiques comprised solely of upcycled vintage shabby chic repurposed milk bottle cardigans or whatever, they had this dehydrator. And I said to myself, "Self, I have always kind of sort of wanted a dehydrator. I think." And between that conversation and the fact that we're not really spending money on anything, I became the proud owner of this here dehydrator a few weeks later....
My dear friend Ruth---a survivor in her own right---sent me a lovely necklace with a charm that says "Just keep swimming." I laughed out loud when I opened it, and then I cried a little, because that's sort of what I do, these days. But yes, I'm trying to keep swimming. We visited with Chickadee this weekend and somehow the subject of my overdue mammogram came up (don't ask me how, I don't remember) and Chickie's eyes got big and she grabbed my arm. "MOM! You have to go do that. I have enough stuff going on, I can't have you being sick! Promise me you'll schedule it this week." And instead...
