May 30, 2007 by Marj Hatzell
I’ve been named several times on various blawgs to do one of those, GASP, memes. I won’t do seven, or eight, or nine. In fact, I won’t number them out of protest against memes. But if you abso-smurfly insist, here are a few things about my life right now:
- Yesterday I took Bugaboo to the Ophthalmologist, who says that Bugaboo is far-sighted. Just like his Dada. He doesn’t need glasses yet, thank goodness. Could you picture it?
- Today I took both boys to the new Neuro. We like him, although since our last Neuro was the end-all-beat-all of Neurologists, I will compare each and every subsequent Neuro with him from now until eternity. I did, however, LOVE the Nurse Practitioner he works with. Not in a girl-on-girl kind of way, but a respect-for-the-amazing-and-funky-person-who-loves-kids kinda way.
- Bugaboo’s behavior is out of control right now. Hand biting, head banging (on soft things, but STILL terrifying) and screaming non-stop for hours. Today the Neuro was able to witness some of it and we made the decision to start the new behavior meds this week. This terrifies me. I did not want it to come to this but we are trying to look at it from a “temporary” standpoint. We have done everything else we can do. Doctors, nutrition, specialists, wraparound, therapy, you name it. We have no other options. Even still,once I took him to school he smiled, laughed, hugged and kissed. He is still the happiest child on the planet. Well, most of the time. Not at 3am. Nope, not at 4 am, either.
- Bug Boy is in the clear, will continue on his seizure meds, although we pulled him off the allergy meds. He had a paradoxical reaction and because anxious and hyper (well, that is nothing new).
- I had two moles removed today, both of which are suspicious. I have a growth on my nose that may possibly be a basal cell carcinoma. It is being freeze dried for a few weeks to see if we can shrink it and then it will be biopsied so that we don’t have to take a dime-sized chunk outta my nose. ‘Cause no one wants to see the inside of this spooky honker.
- In less than two weeks my house is going to be torn apart from top to bottom. And we are doing this voluntarily. The roof, siding and windows will all go. We can’t put the air on the whole time they are working on it. It should make for some fun times. There is a chance that it will be done before the boys are finished school, but I doubt it.
- My husband went back to work after a week off. We didn’t kill each other, although there were some ugly moments. We did get to spend quality time with one another every day. Get your mind out of the gutter, not THAT kind of quality time. I meant, we went on dates out to lunch and stuff. Sheesh.
- I am tired. Really, really tired. I should be doing about one hundred things right now, and I am instead glued to my chair in front of the computer because I feel like I am having a mental anxiety attack today. I cannot get skin cancer out of my head, I am paranoid about it. Blame my irish skin. Or my parents, since they never put sunblock on me as a kid. Freakin’ people in the seventies…
- I cannot stop thinking about mashed potatoes and soft pretzels. I may have to eat one or the other in a few minutes, lest I go completely bonkers. I did indulge in M&Ms after the dermatologist to reward myself for good behavior. I was a good listener and didn’t run around and stayed in my seat. Oh, and I made eye contact and completed my work. So, I got M&Ms. And Raspberry Iced Tea. I am such a good therapist to myself.
- I am still addicted to linen. I need to find some tank tops and linen shirts for summer. Except that means I will probably have to shave this summer…hmmm…
- I like the fact that my husband is less depressed and back to normal. Lexapro is a gift from heaven for him…I wish I could have convinced him ten years ago that it was necessary. It’s just that now he’s gained 15 pounds because he is so laid back about the whole eating thing. I’d rather have a happy, slightly-rounder husband than a miserable, sleeping-everyday-when-he-gets-home-and-never-playing-with-the-kids-husband. He now gets nervous if he forgets to refill it, since he doesn’t want to go back “there.”