Saturday...a day to reflect upon the week just past. My daughter and I are homebodies...disabilities have given us no other choices for a very long time...so you would think there is little to reflect on over this previous week...but you would be wrong.
Sunday...I don't remember much about Sunday. My calendar says I went to Aldi's on para-transit...so I probably did. I try to go twice a month, once in the beginning and once in the middle...but with Labor Day claiming so much of the beginning of September, last Sunday would have been the earliest...Although I do not specifically remember it, I know with two broken ribs...which I have...shopping is nothing short of an adventure worthy of the likes of Tolkein creating an epoch saga around me. Can you picture me as the next Hobbit star? Jim, I need you to morph me onto a hairy footed Hobbit.
Monday...well now, Monday I remember with too much clarity. Why? Kat, my most precious daughter, had a violent seizure, breaking her jaw. Most people do not understand how dangerous seizures are. They think of them as the convulsive thrashing, but once that is over, the person is hail and hearty again...So NOT true.
To those who do not know this, Kat has broken her fingers, her shoulder, her foot, and now her jaw. She has had concussions, blood on the brain, memory lapses, and simple exhaustion. Think of how you would feel after running say twenty miles...when you stop your body is weaving from the exhaustion, the blood pounding through your veins sounds like a stampede of spooked cattle, and your eyes are seeing triple. Multiply that by ten and you are getting close to what Kat is like after a bad seizure.
With her jaw broken, she cannot conduct her BTR show...in steps Mom with my broken ribs. Got Monday's done...and yeah...also got Wednesday's although I screwed up royally...Sorry Cynthia.
Tuesday...other than trying to take nothing more than shallow breaths, Tuesday was relatively uneventful.
Wednesday I spent the day trying to formulate enough background on Cynthia to do a fair to middling job on her BTR interview. I apologize from the bottom of my misconceptions to Kat, Cynthia, and the poor visitors stuck with my confusion that joined us in the chatroom.
Thursday...yeah...that knocked the stuffing right out of me. For the third time in less than a year my therapist is no longer my therapist. The first one, Lisa, was badly beaten by her Autistic son...my second, Claire, I grew very close to in a short time because we have pretty much traveled the same path...no one understands abuse victims better than other abuse victims. I was in her office when without warning they came and made her pack up and leave. (Seems the clients liked her too much.) And now Staci who decided just last week to move to VA to be closer to her niece and nephew.
There's talk of another therapist squeezing me into her schedule somewhere in the next few weeks...but I'm not sure I want to be SQUEEZED in again. Staci squeezed me in this past June...So Thursday I felt a bit shell shocked and crawled into my own little cave of protection.
Yesterday...was a day of flips...on the one hand I think the new Neurologist is going to prove heads and tails above any of the previous so-called experts for Kat...but medical transportation didn't come back for our 10:30 return trip. We walked that parking lot for over two hours...and neither of us had dressed for the cooler weather.
I can walk a bit before the nerves in my right leg start burning and the leg literally gives out beneath me...and my knees can stand some walking...my left kneecap still bares the scar from the time my ex kicked it with his steel toed cowboy boots, splintering the kneecap quite spectacularly. (By the time I could have a doctor see it...two years later...it had healed with shards of bone here, there, and yeah down there too.) Today, my knee looks like I stuck a bicycle tire pump into the knee and pumped with glee. My right leg, the one with the nerve damage is sending knifeblade sharp arrows of pain from my thigh all the way down to my toes and back. My left foot...I have this metarsal thing that feels like I have a rock in there when I come down on the bottom of my foot during the walking process...today it feels like a boulder.
Kat didn't fair much better...luckily the two seizures she had in that parking lot were what I dub her mini-seizures and I was able to angle my body against hers well enough to keep her from taking us both down to the pavement.
Seems transport didn't forget us so much as our assigned driver was having battery trouble and they, the dispatching portion, didn't think that maybe they should send another driver. THREE total hours!
Today is Saturday...a day for reflection...and I am going to reflect myself back into my cave and let my mind veg out on doing nothing more strenuous than watching DVDs.
I know somewhere in all this a story will evolve...so there is a silver lining in every black cloud...still...Blue skies...are they too much to ask for?
Ginger, Love...we're glad you're home from the hospital. Get well My friend.
Everybody else...I'll check in with you all in a few days.