It's been a week. Or, really, a week and a half. Forget waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think sometime this week I looked up and 757 shoes came raining down.
But, as K's therapist's would say, that's glass half empty thinking, and that won't do.
It all began when I got into a fender bender the week before last. Apparently a red light doesn't mean the same thing to all people, and the woman behind me figured she'd use my car to stop, as opposed to her brakes. She looked at my broken bumper and told me to just get some glue. She didn't want to hear the person in the car with me had whiplash, and decided the best thing to do was jump into her vehicle and drive away. From an accident. Because, you know, why not?
One 911 call later, I filed a police report, called the husband, and had my poor car towed. Thankfully, I now have it back, so I can ring in 200,000 miles as planned. I mean, I am a little over 198,000. I was not happy thinking I might not get to reach the next milestone. It's the little things.
We are not a one car family, but someone, who shall remain nameless, thought he'd save a few bucks and not add rental car insurance to our policy. Let's just say, it's being added now. I always had this idea in my head that we could ditch a car, and just share one to save money. A lot of people do that. We...are not these people.
So, we're cruising along last week, and then Wednesday happened. Let me start by saying I am very thankful my husband decided to work from home that day. I am not thankful I put off taking a shower...
After getting K off to school, my husband, B, and I slept in. It was the one day that week I had nothing to do. We got up around 9:30 (yes, 9:30...I know some of you are murdering me in your heads), I made B breakfast, and while he ate I checked my email (and, OK, probably Facebook and Twitter) in the other room.
One second I hear B talking to our dog, and the next I hear gurgling. Gurgling that I thought was caused by him making a mess with his chocolate milk.
Don't I wish.
I walked into the kitchen and found him on the floor. Drooling. Convulsing. Not responsive in the least. I called (screamed) for my husband, and dialed 911 (two 911 calls in a week is not my idea of a good time).
My kid was having a seizure.
Seizures are not something we've ever dealt with. Quite frankly, I thought we had dodged that little autism bullet (if it is at all related to autism). It was the scariest morning of my life. I literally thought my kid was dying. It took him a long time to snap out of it. He even lost speech for a while. Thankfully he remembers nothing, thinks it's cool he got to ride in an ambulance, and thought the ER was fun...they had saltines and ginger ale. Party down.
I really don't think paranoia begins to describe how I've felt since. I don't want to leave him along for 2 seconds, and have forced him to sleep with me all this week, thereby forcing my poor husband to the couch (but he has a dog to snuggle, so don't feel too bad for him).
I've tried not to Google grand mal seizure. I've tried convincing myself that B might be one of those kids who randomly has one seizure, then never again. We thankfully got in with a neurologist tomorrow afternoon, and I am anxious to just get on with it...whatever "it" might be. I am sure there will be EEG's and tests...protocols for school and camp...I just want all our ducks in a row. I want to know what to expect. I want to know more than I know now.
And I never want to see my child like that again.
Some other, personal stuff went on this weekend that I'm not at liberty to share, but all in all, I've had a lot on my mind, and am ready to hibernate for the winter. I am thankful for some friends and family who understand that I am currently half-human, and who are giving me the time to live in my own little world. Pretty much all I can muster is being a "mom" right now (so, I guess I'm thankful for an understanding hubby, too).
The one light in all of this is that last week we secured a permanent school placement for Katie, which is huge, and wonderful, and takes a giant weight off my shoulders. Not that the universe needed to replace that weight, but that's life. I'm glad K will remain somewhere she is happy, and thriving. One hurdle down, a zillion to go.
But, these past couple weeks have put a lot into perspective. Life is short. Anything can happen. I'm in control of pretty much nothing. So, the things I can control, I will. I need to make sure my family is happy. I need to make sure I am happy. I need to be selective with those I let into our lives, and not live in that glass half empty way. In the end, we are all responsible for ourselves, our actions, our decisions. How we choose to live. What is important, what isn't. What stress is necessary, and what can be left behind.
(Blah, blah, blah, etc, etc, etc, please stop waxing philosophical, says the audience, eyes rolling).
Your favorite pseudo-blogger (I am, right?)