...And in the air, the fireflies, our only light in paradise. We'll show the world that they were wrong, and teach them all to sing along; singing Amen I, I'm alive. Amen I, I'm alive...

- Nickelback, If Everyone Cared

For All The Right Reasons Album



And I'm singing Aaa-ayyy-men, I'm alive!







William Leonidas November 12th, 2009
My only regret is that I cried so many tears while I waited for you.


"...I'll try ~ but it's so hard to believe. I'll try ~ but I can't see what you see. I'll try and try to understand the distance between the love I feel ~ the thing I fear ~ and every single dream. I can finally see it. Now I have to believe all those precious stories. All the world is made of faith ~ and trust ~ and pixie dust. So I'll try ~ because I finally believe. I'll try ~ because I can see what you see. I'll try, I'll try ~ to fly..."

Jonatha Brooke "I'll try"


Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10




Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you..." Jeremiah 1:4-5




For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to Thee for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Thy works, and my soul knows it very well. Psalms 139:13-14



Monday March 5th, 2010

So Why Stinkerie?



It's simple, really. It's the first thing I whispered against my newborn little Dumpling's temple as I held him alone for that very first time. "There's my Little Stinkerie." And all was right with the world as I brushed my lips across his delicate dewy soft newborn-pink skin and sniffed at his sparse smattering of downy soft hair. Corny and sappy, huh? I can't help it when describing my new Little Puppy. But don't get used to it - I have been told I am "irreverent."



Anyway, it just came out and he's been Stinkerie ever since. As well as Stink Pie, Stink Pot, Stinkey Pete, Little Stinks, Stinks, Puppy, Ducky, Baby, Baby Head, Baby Head Jenkins, Jack, Jack-Jack, Jackie Boy, Jax, Snork, Snorkis, Snorkle, Billy Boy, Billy Bob, Bobby Sue, Billy-Joe-Jim-Bob, Will, Willie, Willister, and the name given by my mentor turned friend Beth - Snake. When I write to her I call him either The Snakester or Slither! And of course, Dumpling, because he is my Little Dumpling - warm and soft and comforting. It's alright to combine comfort food with baby names, right? Have you ever watched the movie Where the Heart Is? If you have, you'll know why I mention this in my defense!



Long story short, you're likely to encounter any one or more of these names in a single post. Because I can. It's my blog!





Something to Consider

Bad decisions make good stories.

Something to Think About

With any pregnancy, there are concerns. With any child, there are worries. When you have a diagnosis of Down syndrome, you know what to worry about. You know what to look for. You have a plan of action. With your typical child, there is no limit to the things that can 'go wrong' or 'happen.' There's no place to focus your worry and concerns. 'IT' will always be out there, waiting. You'll always be on guard. Even when the child is 55 and has grandchildren. With Down syndrome we have a battle plan. With Down syndrome, there is a finite number of things that can go awry. With a typical child, there's isn't. It's a crap shoot. I'm sticking with the Ds and taking the other two back to the hospital for a refund.

Head Above Water


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Wednesday, December 1, 2010

"I'll Take A Basketball to the Face for $1,000.00 Alex"

I'd been trying to write a pity party post to myself in Am I That Woman? when my plans to self indulge in some poor-me's got derailed.

The Girlie walked into the house, fresh off the bus from school, holding an ice pack to her face. When she took the ice pack down saying, "Mom, I got hit in the face with a basketball!" My first question was, When did this happen? While I noted the swollen and reddened bump to the bridge of her nose, on top of the natural one already there from inheriting her Dad's nose, I tipped her face up to see if the nasal deviation I was seeing was truly there. And it was. Her nares (the thin petals of the nostrils) were no longer meeting her cheeks at the same height on her face! She said it had happened during PE, almost 2 hours ago. I stand away so that the kids' ART gals can look at her. Both sets of eyes widen.

So, clearly we are heading the the ER instead of having The Older's therapies and Jack's vision session. While I am gathering diaper bag stuff and filling bottles, I call the school to find out exactly why my daughter was hit in the face with a basketball with enough force to cause facial misconfiguration and I was never notified. The gal answering the phone says that the health office gal has gone home for the day, but that my daughter never came up to the health office today. Would I like to leave a message? No, I want to speak with someone. Now. The principal, the vice principal, her teacher. Someone!

While I'm waiting on hold I find out from The Girlie how it happened playing basketball, from which direction from up here (gesturing above her head), was it thrown at you or did it bounce from something I don't know. I think it bounced from the board, did you get a bloody nose no. (I later discover the blood inside her shirt at the emergency room. Oh. Yes. I did get blood right after. Is my teacher going to get into trouble?) What happened right after you got hit with the basketball I went to Mrs S (her teacher) and what did she do? She wiggled it and said I was okay. Did you go to the nurses office? No. I asked if I could go get some ice. What did she say? She said I was fine. When did you get the ice pack? I got it from my lunch bag after PE. Were you crying? A little. But all the other kids came to me, so I tried not to.

So finally, there's a voice on the line asking with whom she is speaking. I say my name, and that I am the Mom of The Girlie. She asks what sort of problem there is, with a very You're bothering me and taking me away from my very important life, haughty sort of tone. So, I ask her, "With whom am I speaking?" (Hey, I can sound smart, too!) She introduces herself as Mrs V, The Dean of Student Education. Well then. I say that my daughter has just come off the bus with her face swollen and misconfigured after being hit in the face with a basketball, that she is in a great deal of pain, that we are leaving for the emergency room at our local hospital, and that I want to know why I wasn't notified immediately so that this injury could have been treated immediately, not two hours after the fact. She asks the question that set the whole tone of what came after. Did she ask to go to the health office? I repeat what The Girlie has said to me "She asked for ice and Mrs S wiggled her nose and told her she was fine. She took it upon herself to go and get her own ice pack from her lunch bag and held it to her face." Well I don't know that Mrs S would have sent her to the office if she didn't ask to go, so that's why you weren't notified. So now I'm pissed. Not so much at her words, but the inflection on certain words and the voice intonation that were telling me clearly, Duh, if your kid is too stupid to go to the office, I can't help you! So I take a breath to pause and say something to the effect of, "My daughter has Autistic Spectrum Disorder, she was in pain, having just been hit in the face with a basketball, and she went to her teacher to tell her what happened and to ask for ice. Why is it up to her to ask to go to the health office when she clearly asked for treatment? Why didn't Mrs S, who currently had the care and custody of my child in her charge at the time, ask her if she needed to go, or just take the initiative and send her? What kind of training does Mrs S have that she could reliably triage my daughter's injury and dismiss it? Because I am standing here looking at a child with a swollen and misconfigured face holding an ice pack to herself." Mrs V assured me that These types of injuries very often do not swell until later, again in her 'You're bothering me voice,' and that is why Mrs S didn't send her to the office. "And have you spoken to Mrs S about this to know that is why, or am I assuming correctly that you haven't and that you're just now hearing about this from me?" Well, no, I haven't spoken to her to hear her side of it..."Well I can assure you that the histamine reaction in "these types of injuries" or any facial injury for that matter, is in fact, usually immediate and the swelling is rapid and easily visible." Oh and do you have any sort of medical training to know this information? Big mistake, sister. It wasn't the information seeking that pissed me off, it was the attitude. So I gave it to her. "Yes, in fact I do. I've been a registered nurse for seventeen years, all of it in ICU, and the majority of it as a trauma nurse. I do in fact, have the medical training to know this information, which the last I knew of, was not included in a teaching credential. So, we're all packed up and ready to walk out the door to the hospital. You find out what you can and I expect some feedback by tomorrow to know why I wasn't immediately notified. That was my purpose in calling the school while I got us ready to walk out the door."

Her closing salutation was much kinder and significantly less snotty and defensive. I don't usually enjoy pulling out my trump cards (I have so few of them) but I can and will when treated disrespectfully or as less than, and I will slap down my aces with aplomb when it comes to my children. It just pissed me off that instead of treating me as a parent calling to alert her to a problem, she instead got immediately haughty and then tried to make it my child's fault for every thing that came after. I have to admit, I do get off on being able to Man Up, Belly Up to the Bar, or Put My Big Girl Panties On and come away the victor when the victim gets further victimized. I think I've said it before. Don't piss me off and I won't hurt you. Don't hurt my kids and I may let you live.

The ER visit was uneventful. We were there for less than three hours and at the pharmacy for less than one. We got drive thru Wendy's Frosties on the way home. We were home in time for Hell's Kitchen. (Trev sucks and needs to go home!) The findings were that The Girlie has a fractured nose, but that the swelling going down will likely result in significant reduction of the deviation, which at this time was a nice, sloping, gently curving backward C. On my child's face! She may have a very minor concussion. The fracture is small and will likely not need any further treatment or manipulation. There was no blood collection or fluid accumulation to any vital structures. She has some peri-orbital tenderness and may have a bit of black eyes tomorrow. Ibuprofen every 6 hours, Tylenol with codeine every 4 hours, Zofran for nausea, watch for neuro changes, sleep upright if needed, stay home from school tomorrow. Return for worsening symptoms. Dang. Poor Girlie.

3 comments:

Holly W said...

you are freaking kidding me?!
I am speechless! I would have...well, I don't know what I would have done, but not nice words would be involved and perhaps a bitch slap..
OMG...trying to make it her fault? Like she needs to beg to see the nurse? Puh-leaze..
serious lack of judgement here...if I were you I wouldn't be able to wait to go down and tell them exactly what they said in the ER

Melissa M said...

Poor Girlie! I hope she's feeling better! And the school, that just pisses me off!

Melissa M said...

Poor Girlie! I hope she's feeling better! And the school, that just pisses me off!