I spent last night in the ER with a kidney stone (boulder?) A tiny little thing that made it feel like my left kidney, and everything below it, had paid $20,000 to be killed off on Game of Thrones. I had a real moment of wondering how much Vicodin is too much Vicodin.
After trying to save myself the $150 ER copay, I gave up around 2 am and drove myself to the hospital. It probably wasn't my brightest move, but I really didn't want to load the kids in the car, and mess up their schedule for today. Thankfully, since I showed up shaking, in excruciating pain, white as a ghost, and dehydrated, the ER staff took pity on me and I was immediately hooked up to good meds and hydration.
It still amazes me that something so small (I have yet to actually see a kidney stone with my own two eyes), can make me feel that bad. It is better than all the crazy alternatives my paranoid mind usually goes to when faced with that kind of pain, though.
I was sprung from the ER around 7, and was home around 8 (after stopping at the store for some Gatorade and Advil, because the answer to the Vicodin question is it just doesn't help this sort of pain at all, and the doctors don't send you home with the good stuff.)
The fact is, I've been under a boatload of stress, lately. K's school situation for next year, or lack thereof, has definitely taken it's toll. My auto-immune issues flare up, and I just get sick like it's my job.
This morning after returning home, and before crashing on the couch, I had a conversation with another school that was offering us a program that wasn't right for K. I drifted off to sleep upset, and not wanting to face the world.
Then something magical happened. A few hours after falling asleep, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the phone number as the one school we really wanted for K. The school that seemed like the light at the end of the tunnel for us. A place that could be life changing for K. The school that had already told us there wasn't a spot for her at this time, and had been the cause of me breaking down into sobs these past few weeks more times than I'd like to admit.
I almost didn't answer. I was just too tired and too sick to hear them tell me, definitively, it was over. There were no more "maybes" to be thrown out. I just didn't have it in me to hear that, or to cry anymore, so I almost let the call go to voice mail.
At the last second, I answered. I braced myself for more bad news, but instead I was greeted by an excited voice on the other end, telling me there was good news! They had a spot for K if we still wanted it.
If I could have jumped through the phone and hugged this man, I would have. I thanked him about 20 times too many, and could barely hold an intelligent, or intelligible, conversation. I was too excited, almost not believing this was happening.
I really cannot convey the weight that has been lifted. Or how incredible it feels to not have to trudge to programs we know aren't a good fit, but might be our only options. To finally feel like something is going our way! Especially after last night, we really needed this!
Hope (real, live, hope!) has been handed to us. To K. And you know what? We deserve it!
So now I can go back to my couch nap and look forward to waking up, instead of being afraid of facing the world. That's a really good feeling.
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Monday, June 16, 2014
Sunday, August 4, 2013
I Shall Not Admit Defeat!
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).
Love,
Your favorite pseudo-blogger (I am, right?)
J
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).
Love,
Your favorite pseudo-blogger (I am, right?)
J
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