Thursday, April 16, 2009

Pity Party **UPDATED**


I have a stress fracture on my left tibia. It hurts. It means I am done running for several weeks if not months, which means I will lose everything I have worked for the last year and be back at square one when I am finally okay to run again.

I have a clueless doctor who told me, "Yep, sounds like a stress fracture -- just take Motrin and ice it for 4-6 days and you'll feel better. Do you still want a bone scan?"

Yes, I still wanted one. So I had one today, and the tech showed me my plain-as-the-nose-on-your-face fracture right where I thought it was. I will have a follow up appointment with the doctor early next week, but I have zero confidence in her recovery instructions (see above).

So now not only am I done running, I don't know what kind of timeline I am looking at. Am I okay to go on walks around the neighborhood? Can I spin? Use the elliptical? When I DO start running again, how far is okay? How often? How fast? I am already concerned that when I start again I will be so paranoid about re-injury that I won't push myself.

I am going to try to be positive throughout this setback and focus on other forms of exercise, but I am giving myself the weekend to be bummed out of my skull. Hopefully this isn't going to kill my plan to run the full marathon in Charlotte in December, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was scared I might lose that too.

WAAAAAAAAAAAA.

The end.

***UPDATE***

Dr. I-swear-she-didn't-finish-medical-school called me today and left this message on my answering machine:

"Hi Nicole. This is Dr. Idiot calling to tell you that your bone scan was indeed positive for a stress fracture in your left leg, which is shin splints. Have a good weekend!"

No phone number. No follow up instructions. No understanding of the difference between soft tissue damage and bone fractures.

So I called the hospital back, asked to speak to Dr. Idiot, got her nurse instead, who proceeded to put me on hold for over 40 minutes (hanging up on me once in the process) before finally waving Dr. Idiot down long enough to speak to me. This is an actual transcript of the conversation (that I am pulling from my steel trap of a memory):

Dr. Idiot: "Hello?"
Me: "Dr. Idiot?"
Dr.: "Yes."
Me: "This is Nicole Ter-"
Dr: "I know"
Me: "Oh. Well you called me earlier and said I do have a stress fracture on my left tibia."
Dr: "Yep -- it's a level 1 fracture, which is shin splints."
Me (trying not to let her hear my eyes rolling over the phone): "Soo...."
Dr: "So stay off it."
Me: "Stay off it? For how long?"
Dr: "You need to ice it and take Motrin (never mind that Motrin will delay the healing process in a stress fracture)"
Me (done trying to talk to someone who thinks ice will help my bone heal in 4-6 DAYS, not weeks): "Can I see an orthopedist?"
Dr: (Sigh) "Yep. You have a pen?"
Me: "Ummmm...yep. Got it."
Dr: "867-5309. Call on Monday"

CLICK.

Yes, as in Dr.Idiot hung up on me. Good thing this is all free, or I'd be a little crustier (yes, it IS possible) about this whole ordeal. The good news is I'll get to see an orthopedist sometime in the near future and get some answers on what the dealio is with my bum leg. I'll keep you all posted, because I know you are worried sick over it:)

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

For the 3 of You Who Haven't Seen This Yet

My father in law sent this video to me a couple of days ago, and I sat watching with tears streaming down my face.

There is just something so powerful and moving in watching her march out onto the stage, being judged and ridiculed because of how she appears, and then hearing her voice ring out with enough power to bring everyone to their feet.

A couple of years ago, my mom showed me this similar video, and I remember all of us in the room just weeping. The emotion is so raw, and I have been struggling to find the words that adequately explain how I feel when I watch the talent pour out of these humble people. It's just pure. And inspirational. And so uplifting to watch people put aside their assumptions and embrace and recognize the beauty in another human being.

Watch it if you haven't already. Heck, watch it if you HAVE seen it already. It's worth your time.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Gettin' Her Georgia On

Goodbye, tooth letter "F"! Hello extra redneckyness (totally a word).

(And yes, Cilka, I am working on a post of her birthday -- it'll be up before Branik's birthday. Probably.)

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Keaton Update



Well, Keaton was finally diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. That is the diagnosis that we were expecting, and we are confident that the developmental pediatrician got it right. I wrote before that Asperger's is basically mild autism, but the doctor who diagnosed Keaton described it to me as "autism, but with communication skills". She spent a good amount of time playing with him, testing him, asking me questions, and just watching him. He scored well on his IQ test of sorts, with standard scores being 70-120, and Keaton's scores coming in at 108, 112, and 127. This tells us his cognitive abilities are on the high end of normal, and that his case has much more to do with social skills and sensory integration issues than intelligence. The doctor was floored by his fine motor skills, telling me she had never in 30 years seen a 4 year old copy a star as well as Keaton did.

Anyway, after all her evaluating was done, she simply turned to me and said, "Keaton has Asperger's Syndrome. You didn't cause it, it's just how he was born. Therapies may help a little, a lot, or not at all. Do you have any questions?" Ummm...only about a million. But they are questions that nobody can answer.

So. Now what?

Autism Awareness Day was earlier this week, and I read several articles online that covered many of the issues faced by individuals with disorders, as well as the parents of autistic children. The one that I related to the most was an article written by parents who were troubled by the way others viewed their children. One mother in the article was counseled to tell people who gave her withering looks in the store/doctor's office/church, "This is what autism looks like -- my son has a disability" and then walk away. I can't tell you how many times Keaton's behavior has embarrassed me in public, or how many times I have been on the receiving end of a dirty look during one of his meltdowns.

Now I know every child has tantrums, and nearly every parent has had the wonderful experience of dealing with an irrational child in public. You may have even had the dirty looks and nasty comments that I get with Keaton. But add to that the pain of knowing that your child cannot help it, will likely never be "normal", and that he is being judged and labeled by ignorant people. It is devastating.

What can I do to help protect myself and my child from all of the criticism? I can keep working with his therapists and teachers and doctors to find coping strategies that work for Keaton, and I can try to educate people about what Asperger's looks like -- at least for our family.

To that end (and also to document where we are today), I am going to update many of the things I wrote in my earlier post before we had our diagnosis.

Keaton is now attending a Special Education Pre-K class three days a week in addition to his "regular" preschool. This was a tough decision for us. Was Keaton going to regress being in a classroom full of children with special needs? Wouldn't it be better for him to be with children who WERE developing normally so he can see how typical 4 year olds behave? I was so torn over the decision, and thought I had made a terrible mistake by agreeing to let him go.

But then I went to talk to his teacher, who out of the blue explained to me why Keaton needed to be there. She said, "At the other school, Keaton is expected to sit at a table, do worksheets, and keep quiet. The problem is that Keaton can already read and write, so the worksheets are a waste of time for him. What he needs is encouragement to talk to his peers -- to interact with them, to practice asking them questions about themselves and to learn how to be a friend."

As soon as she said it, I knew she was right. And wouldn't you know it, within a month Keaton has made progress. His speech therapist told me last week that the last 4 sessions in a row have been drastically different. That at first she thought he was just having an "on" day, but it's been a month of great cooperation, increased eye contact, and better conversation.

Keaton is still struggling with his syntax -- "Did you hope you see that whale is grey?". He asks questions all day long that he knows the answer to -- "Is that Harold? Is that Harold? Is he a helicopter? Is Thomas blue? Are these my new shoes? (No) Are these my old shoes? (Yes) Did you tell me they are old shoes? (Yes, Keaton) But are they new? (No Keaton) Just old? (Yes, Keaton)".

I'll be honest. It's maddening some days. I still have to acknowledge EVERY. SINGLE. BUS. we pass on the road, and if I say, "No more talking about buses Keaton", that little boy starts to cry quietly in the car and beg me, "Mommy, PLEASE just say 'Yes Keaton, it's a bus'..."

Keaton is also still struggling with some social skills -- specifically, being interested and/or concerned with other peoples' feelings. It doesn't occur to him naturally that he should ask what anyone else wants to do. He doesn't understand that if it makes HIM sad to have a toy taken by another child that TAKING a toy away makes somebody else sad. This would be typical for a 2 year old, but not for a nearly 5 year old. It makes it very difficult for Keaton to have friends, because other children do not like his constant questions and his lack of interest in their opinions during playtime. He doesn't really get invited to play with anyone, which we understand, but makes us ache for him and the day he realizes he's being left out.

He is making some progress in that department though, and we try to focus on the good bits of news. For example, about 2 weeks ago we had a gorgeous evening and Boone decided to take the kids on a walk while I went for a run. We have a 1 mile loop in our neighborhood, so I ran around the loop, waving to and passing the rest of the family as they walked. When I finished running I joined them to head home, and as I reached down to take Keaton's hand, he looked up at me and said, "How was your run, Mommy?"

I almost cried. I asked Boone if he had coached Keaton to ask the question, and he said "no". It may seem like nothing, but to have him ask how I felt about something I did without being prompted is HUGE. I can't think of a single other time he has asked a similar question. But now I know he can do it, and I have hope that it will become a more regular thing for him.

He is still struggling to follow directions without a lot of repeated prompting. In fact, some days he acts like he isn't hearing us at all. We have had his hearing tested more than once and know that the problem is not with his ears -- it's with his brain. This is probably my biggest concern as far as his ability to succeed in school goes. We are hopeful that he will be able to attend a regular kindergarten class in the fall, but he may need an aide to help him stay on task.

Church is even harder for him. Honestly, it is pretty unreasonable to expect ANY 4 year old to sit quietly through 3 hours of anything (ask my mom how developmentally inappropriate that is), but add Asperger's and you have a nightmare on your hands. Keaton is so stressed out when he comes home from church that he usually collapses onto the floor, pulls his blanket over his head, and sucks his thumb. I feel the same way most of the time. The people, the noise, the sitting still, and the chaos just overload his little brain and he freaks out. The only thing that gets him through it are the people at church who love him. He has a wonderful teacher who is so kind to him it makes me cry. He has adult friends that he runs to (Tina, Chrysta, and Sarah) and talks about all week long. Those people watch out for him and shower him with hugs and high fives, and there is nothing greater for me to witness.

I have never met another child who so easily endears himself to other people. Even with all his difficulties and quirks, Keaton is just intoxicatingly affectionate. People tell me all the time, "I just LOVE that kid to death" and I can tell that they mean it. Perhaps there are people who think Keaton is just an undisciplined, uncooperative child, or that his disability is not a real condition -- to them I would say, "You are missing out on knowing one of the sweetest people you will ever meet. Also, you are stupid. Go to Hell." The mother bear in me gets nasty when someone messes with my kids.

Keaton has his moments, but there is not a mean bone in his body, and he would never dream of hurting anyone or anything. He runs to me to wipe my tears away when I am crying, and will sit in my lap for hours if I let him. He is such a special little spirit that I can't help but be grateful to have him in our home, and I am bursting at the seams proud to be his mother.

All I ask is this: please understand that when my child is misbehaving, it is because his brain cannot process what is going on around him. I am trying my hardest to avoid the things that trigger meldowns for him, but sometimes I cannot control his environment, and he is still learning how to cope with the situations he finds himself in. The last thing I (or any other parent of a developmentally disabled child) need is for you to glare at me, give me advice, or gossip about my child and all the ways you could "fix him" if you were his parent. I would pay money and bring popcorn to watch someone else try to handle Keaton for a day.

Now go read this article (same one I linked to way up there) and for heaven's sake, give Keaton and his parents a break.

Who RAISED These Children?

Overheard today while the boys were showering together (I went in to investigate the roaring laughter, which is never a good sign):

Keaton: "Penis time-out.com!" (Both boys belly laughing hysterically)

Branik (saying the ONLY thing you CAN say to that): "Poop.org!" (More screaming like hyenas)

I give up.

Friday, April 3, 2009

You Know What's Awesome? **UPDATED!**

Having one of your kids wake you up 45 minutes early because she has a hangnail she wants clipped. Because at 45 minutes, you don't have time to actually go back to bed but you have lost out on enough sleep to be mad about it. When I told her, "Next time, you need to wait until it's time to get up before coming to get me" she of course started crying, and then stormed out of the room saying, "Why do things like this just have to happen?!" and slammed the door.

Which woke up her brothers. Fantastic. Now I get to start my day 45 minutes early with an emotional wreck of a daughter and two grumpy boys. I love, love, LOVE eating my breakfast with 3 kids yelling at each other around the table. It's like dinner, only in the stupid morning that I hate and with no backup from Boone.

We wrapped up breakfast, brushed teeth and did hair, and then realized we were running about 10 minutes earlier than usual, so I told Rylan she could watch TV for a few minutes with her brothers. When it came time to go to the bus stop, she told me she would just watch from the window because she didn't want to get cold wearing the new shorts she INSISTED on wearing today, because they are having an Easter egg hunt (nevermind that they can't celebrate Halloween in school because THAT holiday is about worshipping the devil -- but the Resurrection is totally acceptable to celebrate in public school) and she NEEDED to be wearing something "Spring-y" or she "just wouldn't look right", and I said "No, you need to go to the bus stop" at which point Branik pooped.

So now I had to backtrack, say "Fine, watch out the window while I change Branik's diaper" (and yes, he's nearly 3 and still not potty trained, thankyouverymuch) but while I am dealing with that, she hears a new commercial on the TV, leaves the window to go see what it's all about, I yell "Get back to the window and watch for that bus!" just in time for her to get back and say, "Oops, I guess I didn't hear it today because there it goes".

BAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

Me: "That's why I told you to STAND THERE RYLAN!!!"

Rylan: "Now I have ruined this whole day!" (stomps off crying. Again.)

Me: "Everyone get in the car -- we have to take Rylan to school"

Rylan: "You probably just hate me because of my hangnail"


Drive to the school -- get stuck behind the bus, which I called "the stupid bus", which is a big problem because Keaton has been saying "stupid" and getting in trouble for it all week, and now I called the bus stupid because Rylan missed it, so now Keaton has the green light and starts with, "Is that the STUPID bus Mom? Did you say STUPID bus? Why is the bus STUPID Mom?"

Rylan (muttering from back seat): "Not my fault the bus is stupid and came early..." (it didn't come early)

Keaton: "Mom! Rylan said STUPID too!"

Rylan: "Mom said it first."

Keaton: "Mom, did you say STUPID?"

Branik: "Stupid bus"

Me: "Everyone quit saying STUPID!"

Get to the school and pull up to the front, at which point Rylan starts crying again and refusing to get out of the car because "It's embarrassing to get to school before my bus gets here", even though kids are pouring into the school and cars are backing up behind us.

Me: "Get OUT of the car Rylan. There are tons of kids here already and your bus is pulling into the back right now!"

Keaton: "The STUPID bus, Mom?"

Branik: "STUPID BUS!!!"

Keaton: "Branik said STUPID!"

Rylan (getting out of the car): "You hate me and think I'm ridiculous and all of this day is my fault!"

Door slams shut. I drive away.

Good morning!

***UPDATE***

I just went to switch the laundry (I told you, it's my favorite thing to do) and opened the washing machine to discover an enormous but also EXPLODED diaper in with the towels. Yay! Because the only way for laundry to get better is to cover it with gel nuggets that used to be saturated with urine.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

This Is The One You've Been Waiting For!

Not really.


Okay, so I am doing laundry today (because it is my favorite thing to do) and I had an epiphany about the kind of person I am: only I don't know what my epiphany means exactly. I just know it reveals something about me. Am I selfish? Self-serving? Holding some sort of a grudge? Burying some secret resentment that is slowly poisoning my soul from the inside out?

Because I looked down at my mountain of laundry on the bed, and realized that I had folded 80% of the pile -- the 20% left unfolded? ALL BOONE'S. Every last item. Even the freaking dishtowels got their turn before his jeans.

Seriously, what is that all about? Why did I leave everything that was his in a heap while I folded and neatly stacked everyone else's? It was not anything I did consciously. He hasn't done anything today that has irritated me, so what gives? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Does anyone else find they fold laundry in a certain order? All your own stuff first? Pajamas last? Am I the only one devoting hours of my life to analyzing the way in which I clean my family's clothing?

I hope I actually have no secret issue and the reality is that his clothes are the biggest and therefore the biggest pain to fold, but I sort of don't think I'm that nice (cue my friends telling me "You're nice, Nicole!" and my family telling me "Nope. You're mental. And mean.")

Sigh.