Yep. Totally and completely overwhelmed.
I know I am not the only one. But I think sometimes the first step is admitting it.
Maybe it was overzealous to try to synchronize mine and Meghan’s 6 month follow-up appointments to coincide with the first 2 weeks in July and the February break.
My initial attempt scheduled 12 doctors , plus one MRI and one sonogram between June 27th and July 16th, (for both of us combined.)
It has mushroomed to include a Pituitary Stimulation Test and another ultrasound, 2 more MRIs yet to be scheduled, a possible muscle biopsy – pending a conversation between 2 specialists, a full day of work for me one day next week, Physical therapy 1-2x a week as we can fit it, 3 nights a week of swim practice, and 2 dentist appointments (that I PRAY don’t need follow-up!)
So, I waffle in between resenting the loss of my summer, and being grateful that I have July to get all this done.
The entire month of June I salivated for July. I couldn’t wait for schedule free days. Now I am frantically overtaxing my shredder as I organize all the tasks I label for “summer,” during the year. The July calendar makes me nauseous. Literally.
I mean we might have gotten bored eventually, but we have barely been near the pool. I say bring on the boredom.
Most of our appointments are in Manhattan. That can be a 45 minute trip or a 2.5 hour trip – depending on… well, the humidity? day of the week? air pressure? There is ABSOLUTELY no predicting.
We could take the bus. But that often involves the need for the subway, which I won’t do with Meghan, and lots of walking, which honestly she can’t do. So, we drive, fill the car with gas, head over a bridge and through a tunnel to a carefully pre-selected parking garage.
And, since there is no predicting, there is always a meal to pack. Never want to be caught off guard with a hungry Gluten, Dairy, Soy allergic kid.
Sometimes we are on time. Sometimes we are late. Always we wait, and wait.
Meghan is the most well-behaved child. I don’t lie because there is no need. I am sure she was a gift to me – while we can at times butt heads, her personality allows her to pack a book, her iPad, or something, and sit. For hours and hours. I couldn’t pull this off if she was any other way.
But, I don’t know if I would have a choice. There is no traveling to Manhattan at 4 pm, on a school night. It just can’t be for either of us. So we do what we must.
Today, before 8AM she was in the park, running the “fun run” of a local race that has been dedicated to our “Angel Meghan” for over 20 years. She ran for a quarter-mile – 2 and a half minutes, came in a close 2nd, and has been nursing her knees ever since.
I am in the basement, shredding, and writing while I wait for my overworked shredder to cool. Trying to get a few things off the “to do” list.
My head is constantly going – processing new information learned this week. Thinking. Asking. Wondering. Worrying.
Today is a good day. Daddy is home. The ultimate distraction for her.
We had a long talk this morning, me and my girl. I tried to push her to reach out to some friends. To go and be carefree like she should be. Even if its only for a while. Everyone has something we reminded each other.
I still can’t shake my need for order. I don’t need a psychiatrist to tell me my obsession with a clean house is tied to the inability to control much else in my life.
Cowden’s Syndrome – our curse, and our blessing. Sucking away hours that should be spent on the beach or in camp. Forcing a little love to grow up way too fast. Torn between my guilt that this mutation came from me, and my gratitude that she saved my life.
I lost my driver’s license today. Just the license. It fell out of my pocket. For $17.50 I ordered a new one on-line. Here’s to hoping that whoever tries to be me has a strong stomach, and a decent amount of stamina. They don’t know what they are up against.
The beach… and all her other plans – I will do my best.
Just trying to get by one day at a time.