Gavin has been officially home, for good, one week ago.
How did he get here? Who’s idea was it for him to come? WHY is he home? And for how long is he home?
These are all the $1,000,000.00 questions that everyone is dying to know. It just so happens that you’ve come to the right place for those answers. Or at least my attempt to give you those answers anyway.
So, here’s the run down:
◊ As of Thursday, May 16th, 2013, Gavin moved home for good.
◊ It was my idea but both of our choices – together – as his parents.
◊ I made the decision because it was in Gavin’s best interest based upon his health, period. No other reasons.
◊ It is tearing me apart,hence the fact that I’m still wide awake at 12:43am
◊ The first few nights with him home were fine but the honeymoon phase has quickly ended and the games have already begun.
◊ Gavin’s muscular neurologist at the Cleveland Clinic, Dr. Moodley, wants Gavin to be seen my a doctor at John Hopskin’s hospital. (I have no idea)how we are going to pull that one off.
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The other night, Rob and I were watching television when we heard what we thought was Gavin coming downstairs. So we called out. And waited. When he didn’t come down we figured he must have gone to the bathroom and went back to Supernatural.
Forty-five minutes later we heard…clawing, scratching and really strange howling. So we bolted upstairs because we couldn’t imagine what the Boys were doing or had gone wrong to cause them to be making a noise like that.
Turned out, it wasn’t the Boys. It was a cat, Blue, to be exact.
See, for as long as we’ve had the kittens they’ve been able to do this super cool trick - shimmying under our bedroom door. Who needs an invite into the room when you can wiggle and shimmy yourself under the door whenever you like, right?
Well last night, Blue learned in a rather shocking and painful way that he is officially too big to shimmy under the door. When we heard all of that strange and funky noise, which was when we wrote it off as Gavin; it was actually Blue.
With his head stuck under our bedroom door!
I was terrified when I saw him. Then, of course, the dogs were either freaked out or viewed him being stuck as an easy meal. Either way, they wanted to get in the middle of it.
Rob was trying to figure out how to open a door when it’s stuck shut on Blue’s head and neck. I just kept trying to drag the dogs away from Blue because the more they tried to lick and assault him, the more he freaked out and the more difficult it became to free him. Basically, the whole nightmare was getting worse the more the girls licked and nibbled. Not that I can blame Blue. I can’t say I would be pleased at being held hostage while being a midnight snack for my arch-enemy either.
In the end, we did get him freed, very carefully.
He wasn’t very appreciative though. Or if he was, he had a funny way of showing it, by twisting and spitting and clawing at me. He didn’t want to cuddle either. I can’t imagine why.
Fun times, right?
To see the rest of the “What do you get” series please check out:
We wake up the next morning to Bella Jane, sick. She was prancing around the house and whining like mad, which really isn’t anything new. She does that every morning. And every afternoon and night.
Prance and whine. Prance and whine. Prance and whine. We should probably consider changing her name, to be completely honest with you…to either “Prance” or “Whine”.
Anyway…
Then she vomited all over the floor. It was chunky with 2 inch splintery-toothpicks from the sticks she chewed on while we were outside during our bonfire the night before. It smelled horrible, seriously.
I know vomit smells gross to start with because it’s well…vomit, but you know how dogs love to eat each others’ vomit and other nasty bodily functions? Well, we knew we were in trouble with Bella Jane being sick when Maggie Sue walked over to the vomit, sniffed and ran in the opposite direction!
That’s when you know things are bad – when another dog refuses to eat whatever came out of your dog!
So we survived two days of diarrhea after finishing one day of the wicked vomiting with splinters. You would think that vomiting splinters would turn you off to eating sticks. Evidently, this is not the case with Miss Bella Jane. After vomiting splinters for an entire day, she went outside and promptly snagged another stick and took off running with it, chomping away as she went. Oy. *insert eyeroll here*
Besides the many sticks I don’t know what she was eating that made her sick. I wish she’d give it up though because I’m tired…both for her and for me.
To see the rest of the “What do you get” series please check out:
Last week Mr. Emmett John choose two painting packs as his prize from our family appointment with Patti. I was rather excited because, as you all know, I try my best to encourage the Boys to be creative as much as possible in life. I talk to Santa about the importance of arts and craft gifts balanced with their other gifts at Christmas time. I make sure there are artsy gifts as part of their birthday gifts. You get the idea.
So when Rob had to take Gavin and Elliott Richard to Concorde Kids for therapy this week, Emmett John and I got creative with our badselves. {lol}
We had a few hiccups along the way. When Emmett
John decided his method of painting wasn’t good enough. So I gave it a try. (Basically, I painted my roller coaster car messily and then I “saved” it a few minutes later. {lol}) Then when we realized that our water glass had sprung a leak and was threatening or paintings. But overall, it was a smashing success and we both had a ton of fun!
Plus, it’s not every day I can get Emmett John to sit still for a half hour or more to do a project with me.
One massively, overloaded bucket of crazy with a side of multiple piles of vomit and dog poop, a trapped screaming cat and more mind games than the Gameshow Network.
It’s been great fun these past few days. Not!
If you want details, see below. Let’s be honest, if I wrote about all three in the same post, even though you don’t know the details, you know me, and I like to tell stories; so I tend to be a bit…um…wordy at times? If I put all three stories together in one post, it would become ridiculously long! {lol}
Let’s see…where to start? I guess at the “beginning,” so to speak…
What do you get with One Stupid Cat?
What do you get with One Sick Dog?
What do you get with One RAD Kid?
Menustration. {blech}
Abandonment.
And of course, the personal bane of my existence…
Menopause. {double blech}
Of course there are plenty of others just like there are plenty of possitive words but I’m not focusing on those right now. Plus, I didn’t want to get silly with all the “men” words I could have listed. Especially when this post is about one in particular, menopause. {boo} {hiss}
That’s right, I have now come full circle – from…
being in menopause
♦to♦
having premature ovarian failure
♦to♦
being in menopause again.
All in the time span of 1 week, 2 doctors and 2 doctors’ appointments.
Oh, well, let’s be honest here, my life is never dull or boring, thank you fantastic genetics and horomones. Afterall, if it weren’t for my whacky health and luck and…whatnot, what else would I have to tell you about? {lol}
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not this month but I’ve been missing for 90% of it.
I’m exhausted, beyond exhausted actually. I sleep all night. Wake up exhausted. Take a morning nap when our schedule allows. Then I take an afternoon nap when our schedule and time allows, as well, because I simply cannot keep my eyes open. No matter what I do – getting up, moving around, doing dishes etc – as soon as I sit down and rest for a moment my eyelids feel like they are made of concrete and it’s everything I can do to get Rob to replace me before I drag my butt to bed. It’s horrible.
I have no desire. No drive, above and beyond my usual ADHD lack of drive. I just…don’t. I try all day to work up the energy and desire to get anything done that I need to do. By the time I’ve worked up any…anything it’s 10pm and time for me to take my meds if I want to have any hope of falling asleep before 1am.
It’s not a lack of blogging topics or ideas because I have plenty of those throughout the day. I just can’t seem to get anything up and going. Forget about finished!
I’ve been dealing with depression since I was 12-13 years old, which is sad that I’ve been depressed for more of life than not. But it is what it is, I suppose. So I know the signs and symptoms pretty well after 20-21 years now. While I’m on antidepressants I don’t know if A) it’s the right one or B) it’s the right dosage.
Both my OB/GYN and my OB/GYN-Endocrinologist have both referred me to a Psychiatrist who specializes in chronic pain and women’s issues. Unfortunately, I’m on a crazy long waiting list for my first appointment. I can’t wait to see her because I’m really hoping that she’ll change my psych meds and put me on the right ones for everything I have going on.
Until then, I’m left fighting on my own without medical/psychiatric intervention. Right now it feels rather dark and scary and “fighting” definitely feels like the right term to describe what I’m doing.
For those of you who are lucky enough to have never experienced a migraine headache (to which I say, “NO FAIR!” {lol}) Supernatural, Sam and Dean would like to show you what it’s like to experience one…
Granted, this is what a migraine would be if you were in the middle of transforming into a vampire. Understandably, most, if not all of us, will not have to worry about the vampire transformation. Just in case, I’ve made sure to include the information about the the transformation.
If nothing else, be sure to enjoy the yummy eye-candy that are Sam, Dean and Castiel. {yum!} {yum!} {yummy!}
So, originally the thinking was the I was in perimenopause or early menopause. Then my blood test results came back (still thinking perimenopause) and things with me became a little…messy. (What else is new, right?)
I’ve already been having horrible hot flashes and chills, this we know. When out of the clear blue sky came the worst anxiety attacks I’ve had since my very first anxiety attacks ever. All of these lovely symptoms mixed together led to me making a ransom call (my first one in at least two decades!) to Dr. Farrell.
Per the usual state of my luck in life, Dr. Farrell was on vacation. So I did what I could, I left a message with her nurse and prayed for the sanity to last until the doctor got back. Then a little while later Rob’s phone rang and it was Dr. Farrell.
She was calling from home while on vacation to talk to me, talk me off a ledge about what’s been going on with me. Here’s the long and the short of the conversation:
» I am not in early/perimenopause.
» I have something called Premature Ovarian Failure.
» In order to be properly treated, I need a team of 3. (Yes, you read that correctly.)
» I need Dr. Farrell – my OB/GYN.
» I need an Endocrinologist.
» I need a Psychiatrist because I’m a tad complex psychiatrically speaking.
Together Dr. Farrell, the Endocrinologist and the Psychiatrist will all work together to care for me and get me as stable and comfortable as possible.
That’s the short answer. Tune in for the long…er answer.
Gavin is home, aka back at Grandma and Grandpa W’s house. It’s not so bright but ridiculously early on Mother’s Day and here I sit. In bed. Watching reruns of Cheaters, which I feel guilty about but it’s absolutely hilarious! While I kill my phone battery, trying to get my thoughts in order while I try to come up with blog posts because so much has been happening and I haven’t been blogging about any of it.
So, yeah, here I am. The morning after trying desperately to sleep. Failing miserably. Now I’m just suffering with another bout Emotional Hangover and trying to keep my heart and head above water.
I’m exhausted. My head is killing me. I’m nauseous. I honestly don’t see how I’m going to survive this summer! I mean Gavin has to have someplace to go, I get that. Truly, I do!
My question. My concern. My fear is that he will have no choice but to come home this summer. That because of my mom working, we will have to bring Gavin home. Regardless of the effects of the Emotional Hangover on me. On my life.
Hell, he only came home for one night and look at me! I’m an insomniac mess. It’s ugly.
I can’t imagine this summer would be much better with him home for weeks or months at a time. *sigh*
So my kid brother, Zachary, graduated from college at the ever realistic time of 8:30am Saturday morning. (Yay Zachary! I want to say one last time how incredibly proud I am of you - you totally rock.) Well, even though Kent University cut the graduates up into groups based on major and did the ceremony in various locations, Zachary’s ceremony was still going to be the better part of 3-4 hours. Needless to say, there’s no way – physically, mentally or emotionally – Gavin was going to be able to survive sitting through the ceremony. So we made arrangements for Gavin to spend the night here at home, Friday night. (Boy, if that doesn’t sound odd.)
In the end, it worked out really well (I guess???) because while Rob was at the school for our Wraparound Meeting Gavin began having issues with his eyes, again, which amounted to Gavin coming home from school early.
Everything went well while he was home. He didn’t seem to prey on me or cause me any issues. Not that I felt any more comfortable. Because I didn’t, not by a long shot.
I’m so tired. I’m tired, exhausted, worn out but I don’t see any sleep in my future.
Yesterday, my little sister-in-love (or law depending on how you view it) Jenn graduated from college sums cum laude with University Honors. Then this morning, as I write this, my baby bro is graduating from college. I am super proud of both of them for setting these goals for themselves and achieving them.
Jenn pulled it off with a ridiculous course load this semester. It was something like 24 credit hours. (No, I’m not kidding!) Zachary pulled it off with his bi-monthly treatments for his Crohn’s Disease. So both of them had struggles and difficulties but they still managed to persevere and I couldn’t be more proud of the two of them.
Does trying to sum up your thoughts, your day or dare I say it…your week in just 6 little words sound like fun? If you’re brave enough to take the challenge and maybe make a few bloggy friends along the way, be sure to check out Cate’s blog, Show My Face!
Always be careful what you say and do when intoxicated, it can (and usually does these days) come back to bite you in the butt. Sometimes in the form of an amusing video for the rest of the internet at large.
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So I had it all arranged for the night. Emmett John and Elliott Richard were going to Grandma and Grandpa W’s house for the night. Gavin was going to Grandma and Papa Gorski’s for the night. So Rob and I were actually going to get a night off and to sleep in tomorrow.
Then my Mom gave the Boys a bath. With their new Squinkies, which are these tiny little rubbery toys shaped like various animals. She turned her back for a second. By the time she turned back Elliott Richard was screaming, “Emmett John just shoved a Squinkie up his BUTT Grandma! Up his butt!!!!!”
So my Mom checks, hoping beyond hope that he’s only put it between his butt cheeks, no such luck. And, of course, they are one Squinkie short.
Now my Mama is on her way home with Emmett John and Rob and I are frantically trying to figure out what we are supposed to do with this situation.
If anyone reads this in the next few minutes and has any experiencewith kids shoving tiny toys up their butts, please, I’m begging you. Help me out here. Share your knowledge. Tell me what you know.
Please, from one mother to another, I’m seriously begging you here.
Gavin has been officially home, for good, one week ago.
So crisis averted with Blue and the door. *phew*
One massively, overloaded bucket of crazy with a side of multiple piles of vomit and dog poop, a trapped screaming cat and more mind games than the Gameshow Network.
