Can you even imagine?
Doing a #gladitude post (The #gladitude project) after my test results AND…wait for it…
…after one of my twin boys had day surgery?
Specifically, after one of my twin boys had surgery scheduled for a mere 24 hours following an appointment I didn’t even know what was for? (totally not a complete sentence, forgive my three brain cells…)
Not only have I been hiding from social media and people and the Judge-y McJudgersons, managing the meaning of the very Cosmos that is trying to annihilate my cellular activity, trying to keep from any further eating of cake whilst sitting on the kitchen floor…I have been keepin’ on keeping on…and that included an ENT appointment for my twin boy, Logan.
Thursday afternoon went a little like this:
“I don’t know why we’re here, actually.”
“You can be honest with me and say, ‘No.”…but we’ve had a cancellation just this morning for tomorrow afternoon.”
A third hearing test (which, incidentally, was part of why we were there…yay!) had confirmed that he has had chronic pockets of (thick, mucous) fluid behind his eardrums for the past…well…minimum of three to four years. Over half of his life, if I remember when physician’s at clinics were asking if he’d had multiple ear infections because his tympanic drum was scarred.
The answer was always, “No.”
And, no one ever batted an eye at the discrepancy. The fact that he’d had hearing testing done at all was because he and his twin brother have language learning disabilities and the resources available to them suggested they both have the testing done.
We went in to our local children’s hospital (CHEO) for tubes in both ears.
I had three daycare families, a husband, school and elder sons to make arrangements with…and a half hour to do it.
He’s fine. I wasn’t ridiculously anxious, either, which was pleasing. The only concern which will be followed up on is a space in his right ear where, to the surgeon’s surprise, looks like it was so bad with scarring/inflammation/mucus …that it looks like it began to eat away at the bone.
So, there. I’ve been managing my own ridiculous variations of emotions, a breakdown, the Cosmos and The Everything. With my son’s surgery. \m/
Kids in stripey pajamas.
Stars. If it’s minus eleventy-billion, dollars to donuts that it’s clear skies at night.
Space heater. Honestly. If someone were to steal my space heater, I would land my I’ve-earned-this-ass on the News at 11.
“Mommy, it’s SO much louder! I have the speaker only on quiet, and it’s louder!”
I’m still taking time to soul-heal…not being an Eeyore. I have my “Colour!!” and my Cosmos and my astronomy (free, online) courses. Just finished one, in fact. I have my books and my magazines and being off-line really helps me find and focus on all things/persons NOT Judge-y McJudgersons.
I may be having a difficult and emotional health challenge, but I can sure as shit assure you of this:
My view hasn’t changed one iota. Own your shit. Do things. Better yourself.
I hold myself accountable to the very same standards I seek in others. I recognize my public absence and monitor it to ensure I’m not just wallowing or Eeyore-ing.
I just need quiet. And, help. Thing is? I don’t have a feckin’ clue what or how I need the help. I’m working on it.
Don’t push me, please…I’m trying to figure it out.
Well, unless you want to be a bedazzled evil sidekick minion singing my theme song. (*I secretly have always wanted someone to sing to me)
I’m totally down with that.