So the wind howls, battering my door. I listen to it no more.
That was something my Mom used to sing to me on windy nights, always to the tune of the Skye Boat Song. We used to have a tree right in front of the house, an evergreen and when the wind blew through it there was always this rusing noise and something about it used to unerve me.
Now I love that sound. I was walking the dog and I passed through a large group of evergreens and the wind was blowing through them, making that loud whoosh noise and I found it comforting. A reminder of the silly things from your child hood that used to seem like the end of the world but now you wonder what the big deal ever was.
I was trying to get LB to eat something tonight, he's so small and skinny, he can't afford to go on a hunger strike. So I tried all manner of things to stuff into his little mouth but he wasn't really liking any of them. Until I tried him with blueberry yogurt (blech, I hate that stuff. I can enjoy pretty much any variety of yogurt but not blueberry. Come to think of it, I do not enjoy anything blueberry.) I put that first spoonful of blueberry yogurt into his little mouth and he smiled. He ate the whole container full. Not that there's a lot in a container, but he ate it all. It wasn't until the last few spoonfuls that he began his now customary complaints. But he finished it all off. Yay.
I also noticed after giving him the yogurt that he'd bit his cheek. Ouch, poor kid.
So he is staying home tomorrow. He is going to see the doctor tomorrow. I don't know what's wrong with him. I can't figure it out.
Problem is that I can't take him to the walk in clinic because those doctors aren't going to be very good at figuring it all out. I mean how can I take him into a doctor that has never set eyes on him before and ask them to figure out whats wrong. I have some guesses, he seems to jump when he's swallowing, he only wants to drink. When he eats he brings his legs up against his tummy and he becomes very tight.
Sure I can tell them those things, but what does it all mean anyway? I don't know. And I don't know if I trust those folks to know either. These are the same fellows that misdiagnosed EB, saying he had larangitis (spelling mistake??) when it wasn't. To this day we still don't know what he had, maybe Mono (which would have been strange because he was 6 at the time and from what I've been told it's very rare for 6 year olds to get Mono), he may be a carrier for strep throat as well, he had a swollen pancreas, his lymphnods were swollen, he had fevers and we discovered when he broke out in hives that he's allergic to penicillan. Who knew?
I just hope I can get LB to see someone at his regular doctors office, because if it's serious I know that they'll call his regular doctor in to take a look if he's around.
I just need to figure out how to get him there.
Public transit is a no go. You have to move heaven and earth to book their handicap line, plus you have to call 24 hours in advance which means I'd have to know what time the doctor's appointment was now. And even then, most of the time slots are gone to pre-books (that's when you need the transportation at the same time every week or monthly and you have it always pre-booked). Good luck getting a ride if you don't need it on a continual basis.
That's public transit for you. It explains why my family needs a car so badly, especially if we wanted to go somewhere as a family, LB's only allowed one person to accompany him. Which means I can't take EB or Dot with us. So what would happen if I needed to take all three kids somewhere? I'd need to find a way for one person to go with LB while another person accompanied the other two kids on the regular public transit.
What I'd like to know is what happens if I'm the one that's disabled and I have 3 kids to lug around the city? Do I have to get someone to take my kids on regular transit for me? And who is the person that escorts me? My kid or an adult that can actually help me? Better way my Bottom!
Not to mention that most of the time the transit has been sending taxi's to pick up clients lately. What this has resulted in is disabled folks being dumped in places other than their proper destinations. One patient with alzymers was left in the middle of an empty field and told to head home.
It's insane!
Before I go to sleep everynight, I lay down in my bed and write down something that I remember from my past. Sometimes I just write about what ever is on my mind at the moment. But most times it's memories from my past. And most times they are such negative memories, it's really depressing.
So I decided that at least once a week I'd have to write about the happy times in my life. Sad thing is that before the kids arrived I either didn't have that many happy times, or I just can't seem to remember them that well. Sure I can remember spending the night on the concrete steps of my grade school, sitting there in the cold as the rain soaked through my black suede jacket. I can remember all the details of the night, the way the nighttime sky looked, I remember why I wouldn't go home, I remember sneaking back into the house the moment both my parents were gone to work. I remember having a fast shower and rusing over to my highschool. I can remember all of that stuff, but the times when I was happy with my family are so hard to come up with, and that makes me the sadest of all. Because I know that it wasn't all misery, I wouldn't have been hanging around if it was. But I can't remember those other times, I can't remember them at all. And that means that they are dead, something that I'll probably never get back again. And that hurts more than anything else that could have ever been done to me.
11:21 p.m. - January 22, 2006
Recent entries:
March Break Almost Done - March 16, 2006
Annoying and Irritating - March 15, 2006
Hello Mold, How Have You Been? - March 14, 2006
DNA Personality Test - March 10, 2006
Sickness Continues - March 09, 2006
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