I would like to direct the greater IBC support group to Punk Rock Mommy's site for some moral support. Her cancer has spread again to the lymph nodes under her collar bone and some lesions on her liver.
This woman has been through more than I ever hope to imagine. Yet her faith never waivers. She's a rock. She has more scans this week to check for mets progression in her brain. Keep her in your prayers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I saw my own lovely oncologist today. It was just a routine 3 month follow up that is 2 months late. But I did have a couple of concerns. I've had a very bruised feeling area just above my flap scar. But it is just Hyper-Sensitive Skin. Basically, my numbness has receded enough to let me feel my pissed off nerve endings. Joy.
But the really disturbing/worrisome/questionable issue was a bulge I discovered just below my right collar bone on Sunday night. It's about 4cm x 5cm and firm. It looks very much like a nicely formed pectoral muscle... only a bit on the high side (rather like a botched boob job). It doesn't hurt and I have no earthly idea how long it's been there.
Dr. V isn't too worried about it but in light of my history she's going to send me for scans. She seems to think it's probably just a hypertrophic pectoral muscle. Which I've tried to look up & only seem to find that chicken breasts are tougher when cooked if they were hypertrophic. Good to know.
I did feel relieved to see that she didn't immediately look at my new bulge, stretch her arm out, point and say those dreaded words in the Grim Reaper's voice while the room mysteriously shrunk off to a small point in the distance, "That is cancer. You are going to die."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the GOOD Cancer News front... They are opening a cancer center here!!! Yeah. And all services will be free. I'm going to start yoga. An a young survivors group. I'm pretty psyched about the whole thing. The ribbon cutting is April 5th.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sigh. The boys come home tomorrow. I love them. It will be nice to have them home. But I can't really say that I missed them. Does that make me a horrible mom? All I know is that I very, very badly needed that break. I didn't do a damn thing while they were gone. I barely cooked or cleaned. It was lovely! And it all ends tomorrow.
Sniff.
Does anyone have a tissue?
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
My cup overfloweth or... Sometimes I can be so dense
So. (insert big heaving sigh here) The patches have been a bit on the rough side around Ourhouse lately. I could go into all sorts of detail about being off for cancer treatment for a year... blah, blah... Daddy-O being in a service industry in a crappy economy with monied clients who can't see fit to pay their bills in a timely manner... blah, blah, gak, sputter, ptewwy. Ahem. Suffice it to say that our belts have been tight of late. We've been looking quite waspish, in fact.
Daddy-O & I have both been suffering in our own silent ways with the stress of the situation. Both losing sleep, etc. Not that we are any different then the rest of the nation. Far from it. Not a fact that eases the stressors, let me tell you. But we've been taking action - not sitting idly by watching our finances fall to pieces. It has just been an uphill battle. When everyone you know is paddling the same type boat you are it's hard to imagine you'll ever see dry land again.
Well, last Thursday I was laying in bed all relaxed from not having the boys all evening. (Now right there is blessing number one. Our Super Sitter took B & D on vacation with her for Spring Break. They went on the train (!) to her sister's house. Left last Wednesday & won't be back until this Wednesday.) All of a sudden it dawned on me... in all these stressed out months I have not once prayed about our money woes. Not once. I'm ashamed to even admit it. Sheesh. I guess I hate asking for help so much I don't even take the complaints upstairs...
I quickly remedied that situation with a quicky request for at least a bit of help in the stress-processing department until we could work through this next bit. Right away I felt much better. I slept well for the first night in weeks.
Friday was business as usual until the afternoon when Daddy-O called me at work. Out of the blue he got an offer for his Westfalia. It wasn't for sale. Had never been advertised. Long story short, this morning found him at the bank getting fifteen thousand dollars counted into his hand.
You heard me right. I guess you could say that was blessing number two, eh?
Now it's not like we get to go on a big spending spree. He still has to buy another car. A much smaller, cheaper car. And the rest will fill in the gaps a bad economy has left in our budget. One day after my prayer. I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
So this morning I was able to go see my chiropractor for the badly needed adjustment I've been putting off due to lack of money. What did he do while I was there? He gave me a tent trailer. That's right. Blessing number three, come on down! I told him Daddy-O had sold his Westy camper van & was a bit on the bummed out side... next thing I know he's asking if I want this tent trailer. Oh, and it's an ultra-light and can be pulled with a car. Yeah.
So I'm all high on life & back to work when our secretary tells me that my leave statement has changed significantly since my last check. This is never good. I got a lot of donated leave when I was off on medical & it completely messed up my bookwork. Everytime I would use donated leave they would take some of the leave I should have earned on my own and "bank" it... but no one could ever tell us how or when/if I would get it back.
Today, I got it all back. 32 hours of vacation and 19 hours of sick leave. Blessing number four. I also took advanced sick leave. I am currently still paying it back. Until today I wouldn't have had it paid back until Thanksgiving this year (& I've been back to work a year already). Now I'll start earning sick leave again in September. Woohoo!
One little prayer. "Help us with some stress, Lord. We're drowning down here."
Three days and three big blessings later our stress load is a whole lot lighter. Thank God.
Daddy-O & I have both been suffering in our own silent ways with the stress of the situation. Both losing sleep, etc. Not that we are any different then the rest of the nation. Far from it. Not a fact that eases the stressors, let me tell you. But we've been taking action - not sitting idly by watching our finances fall to pieces. It has just been an uphill battle. When everyone you know is paddling the same type boat you are it's hard to imagine you'll ever see dry land again.
Well, last Thursday I was laying in bed all relaxed from not having the boys all evening. (Now right there is blessing number one. Our Super Sitter took B & D on vacation with her for Spring Break. They went on the train (!) to her sister's house. Left last Wednesday & won't be back until this Wednesday.) All of a sudden it dawned on me... in all these stressed out months I have not once prayed about our money woes. Not once. I'm ashamed to even admit it. Sheesh. I guess I hate asking for help so much I don't even take the complaints upstairs...
I quickly remedied that situation with a quicky request for at least a bit of help in the stress-processing department until we could work through this next bit. Right away I felt much better. I slept well for the first night in weeks.
Friday was business as usual until the afternoon when Daddy-O called me at work. Out of the blue he got an offer for his Westfalia. It wasn't for sale. Had never been advertised. Long story short, this morning found him at the bank getting fifteen thousand dollars counted into his hand.
You heard me right. I guess you could say that was blessing number two, eh?
Now it's not like we get to go on a big spending spree. He still has to buy another car. A much smaller, cheaper car. And the rest will fill in the gaps a bad economy has left in our budget. One day after my prayer. I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
So this morning I was able to go see my chiropractor for the badly needed adjustment I've been putting off due to lack of money. What did he do while I was there? He gave me a tent trailer. That's right. Blessing number three, come on down! I told him Daddy-O had sold his Westy camper van & was a bit on the bummed out side... next thing I know he's asking if I want this tent trailer. Oh, and it's an ultra-light and can be pulled with a car. Yeah.
So I'm all high on life & back to work when our secretary tells me that my leave statement has changed significantly since my last check. This is never good. I got a lot of donated leave when I was off on medical & it completely messed up my bookwork. Everytime I would use donated leave they would take some of the leave I should have earned on my own and "bank" it... but no one could ever tell us how or when/if I would get it back.
Today, I got it all back. 32 hours of vacation and 19 hours of sick leave. Blessing number four. I also took advanced sick leave. I am currently still paying it back. Until today I wouldn't have had it paid back until Thanksgiving this year (& I've been back to work a year already). Now I'll start earning sick leave again in September. Woohoo!
One little prayer. "Help us with some stress, Lord. We're drowning down here."
Three days and three big blessings later our stress load is a whole lot lighter. Thank God.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Belly Button Blues
Before I get to my point here, I want to direct you all to a newcomer to the blogosphere. ClergyGirl has been recently diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer. She is currently going through chemo and could use lots of support and prayers. Why don't you drop in and welcome her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some time ago Killer Boob opened the subject of reconstruction scars. She admitted to being underwhelmed by her new navel. Make that two of us. Soooooo underwhelmed.
Isn't it odd that with the huge, patchwork of scars criss-crossing my torso it's the small round one right in the middle that bothers me the most? But, just like Sarah, I was quite fond of my old belly button. It wasn't an inny. It wasn't an outy. It was quite neutral - like Switzlerland. Also, open so as not to collect odd bits of sheet lint.
Now, however, it bears no resemblance to it's former self. It is still neither an inny nor an outy. Nor does it collect any bits of fuzz. But there the similarities end. This new belly button is quite flat. And it has a thick scar all the way around it. It. is. ugly.
Since the day I brought it home from the hospital I've sworn to cover it with a tattoo. I've haphazardly looked for a palatable flower whose nicely placed center would mask this navel's ugliness. I've just not found one to my liking.
The more I stare at my reconstructed and relocated belly button the more it reminds me of something. I don't think I'm imagining it. I would like your opinion.
Isn't it hideous?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some time ago Killer Boob opened the subject of reconstruction scars. She admitted to being underwhelmed by her new navel. Make that two of us. Soooooo underwhelmed.
Isn't it odd that with the huge, patchwork of scars criss-crossing my torso it's the small round one right in the middle that bothers me the most? But, just like Sarah, I was quite fond of my old belly button. It wasn't an inny. It wasn't an outy. It was quite neutral - like Switzlerland. Also, open so as not to collect odd bits of sheet lint.
Now, however, it bears no resemblance to it's former self. It is still neither an inny nor an outy. Nor does it collect any bits of fuzz. But there the similarities end. This new belly button is quite flat. And it has a thick scar all the way around it. It. is. ugly.
Since the day I brought it home from the hospital I've sworn to cover it with a tattoo. I've haphazardly looked for a palatable flower whose nicely placed center would mask this navel's ugliness. I've just not found one to my liking.
The more I stare at my reconstructed and relocated belly button the more it reminds me of something. I don't think I'm imagining it. I would like your opinion.
Here is my belly button.
Isn't it hideous?And doesn't it look suspiciously like one of these?
Adaptation
Do you know who Ben Underwood is? We found out about him in 2006 when he did this interview with CBS News. As parents of a blind child you can imagine how astounded and encouraged we were.
At any rate, Ben Underwood had retinoblastoma when he was 2 and lost his eyes. Since, he has miraculously taught himself to echolocate by making a series of clicking noises like a dolphin. The videos of him rollerblading & playing basketball are nothing short of amazing.
I was very sad to catch the last bit of a news story on him Friday night that mentioned he is suffering a recurrence of his cancer. He is only 16 years old.
~~~~~~~~~~~
D is just beginning to show signs of echolocating. As I watch him manuver throughout the house he occasionally stomps his foot on the floor to "see" where he is. Even without the stomping he will come close to a wall or table, hesitate, and turn exactly parallel to it and continue walking. I used to have to prompt him to step down when there was a step coming up. Now he takes his cue from his environment. He has already anticipated the stair because I've taken the step already.
I find it amazing that at not quite 3 years old he has begun adapting to his environment in ways that we could never imagine.
At any rate, Ben Underwood had retinoblastoma when he was 2 and lost his eyes. Since, he has miraculously taught himself to echolocate by making a series of clicking noises like a dolphin. The videos of him rollerblading & playing basketball are nothing short of amazing.
I was very sad to catch the last bit of a news story on him Friday night that mentioned he is suffering a recurrence of his cancer. He is only 16 years old.
~~~~~~~~~~~
D is just beginning to show signs of echolocating. As I watch him manuver throughout the house he occasionally stomps his foot on the floor to "see" where he is. Even without the stomping he will come close to a wall or table, hesitate, and turn exactly parallel to it and continue walking. I used to have to prompt him to step down when there was a step coming up. Now he takes his cue from his environment. He has already anticipated the stair because I've taken the step already.
I find it amazing that at not quite 3 years old he has begun adapting to his environment in ways that we could never imagine.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
D is for...
...Dentist... which is who I need to go see for my aching molar.
...Drowsy... or more like ...Dead tired... which is me after a week filled with work starting at 6:00 A.M., blood work, a Parent/Teacher conference, a two-day class @ work taught by someone w-a-y too into his subject, an IEP, our tax appointment, a trip with the kids to the library and 3 hours at the PTA Art/Science Expo.
...Drum. Here is D playing his first drum solo at the Instrument Petting Zoo at the Art/Science Expo.
...Delusional... What my child is if he thinks he's ever getting a set of Drums.
...Dumbass... The name for a parent who cannot seem to watch her language in front of a preschooler with the mind of a steel trap and the tongue of a sailor.
and the coup de gras...
"D is for dammit." The words spoken nonchalantly by my youngest as I was changing his Diaper.
...Drowsy... or more like ...Dead tired... which is me after a week filled with work starting at 6:00 A.M., blood work, a Parent/Teacher conference, a two-day class @ work taught by someone w-a-y too into his subject, an IEP, our tax appointment, a trip with the kids to the library and 3 hours at the PTA Art/Science Expo.
...Drum. Here is D playing his first drum solo at the Instrument Petting Zoo at the Art/Science Expo.
...Delusional... What my child is if he thinks he's ever getting a set of Drums.
...Dumbass... The name for a parent who cannot seem to watch her language in front of a preschooler with the mind of a steel trap and the tongue of a sailor.
and the coup de gras...
"D is for dammit." The words spoken nonchalantly by my youngest as I was changing his Diaper.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Regrets, I've (never) had a few
Regret: n. a feeling of responsibility for wrongdoing
vb. to feel sorry or dissatisfied about something, often with bitterness or grief.
My friend Susan over at Toddler Planet posted this about her one regret in life. And it got me thinking about regrets in general.
I have always held to a "no regrets" philosophy. It was never a conscious decision to not look back but more of a happiness with where I was. Victoria Holt summed up my credo best when she said,
vb. to feel sorry or dissatisfied about something, often with bitterness or grief.
My friend Susan over at Toddler Planet posted this about her one regret in life. And it got me thinking about regrets in general.
I have always held to a "no regrets" philosophy. It was never a conscious decision to not look back but more of a happiness with where I was. Victoria Holt summed up my credo best when she said,
"Never regret. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it's experience."
I have always felt that I am where and who I am this day because of all the decisions I've made and actions I've taken in the past. To regret one of those would be to wish myself a different life than the one I lead today. And that is certainly something I wouldn't change. I don't really want any do-overs.
I've never regretted a death. Sure, I wish I had more appreciation for my Dad while he was alive, but I was barely 14 years old. "Unappreciation" is pretty much part of the package at that age. So I don't consider that a regret because I don't wish to change it. I've never regretted a break up (at least not once the pain dulled). Life happens. Each event in my life has moved me in a direction which led to the next event and so on and so on. To change one seemingly insignificant event would have changed the entire course of my life.
Take for instance, my decision to leave my old job in the grocery store (Retail Clerks Union used to rock!) to take this job working for the CA National Guard. Until I began working for the Federal Govt I had never held a job for longer than 2 years. I had no reason to expect that this one would be any different. I certainly never would have guessed I'd still be working here 18 years later. More importantly, if I had not taken this job I would never have met a co-worker who became my best friend for a number of years. Which, in turn, would mean that she never would have introduced me to her brother-in-law, Daddy-O.
One small decision. Perhaps Daddy-O & I would have met some other way. Perhaps not. Our reversal of our earlier decision to only have one child brought us D, blind from birth. Life altering? Certainly that, no doubt. Ha. But regret the decision to have him? Not on your life! He brings me more joy on his worst day than I ever deserve.
There is not one thing I would have different in my life today, therefore, no regrets.
Maybe, though, that is just a colossally arrogant position to take. Katharine Hepburn said,
"I have many regrets, and I'm sure everyone does. The stupid things you do, you regret... if you have any sense... And if you don't regret them, maybe you're stupid."
Maybe I am stupid. Maybe my stance is too black and white.
There are two things I would not do the same way if I re-did them. But I don't know if I'd call them true regrets because I don't feel like I wish to go back & change them. Yet after the last couple years of battling cancer & it's financial aftermath,
I would be kinder to people that I am not fond of - less snarky. And I would be more budget-conscious with my finances.
No need to regret those two missteps, though. I'll just make another small life-altering decision to change my ways...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
The title of this blog has been temporarily overridden by tax season
We are simple folks. Our taxes are fairly straightforward. I work for the government and Daddy-O is a self-employed Landscape Contractor with no full-time employees. Fortunately for our marriage, we pay someone else to do the actual preparing and filing of said taxes. Unfortunately for me the collection and organization of aforementioned tax docs is left to me.
Please tell me I'm not the only one in this boat lost in the fog on a Sea of Hell. Oh, the personal tax papers are a piece of cake. I keep them in reasonable order all year. But the business taxes. Oh ho ho. Now that is another story entirely!
Daddy-O is not the most organized man in the world. He is very proud of himself for keeping a file of each and every receipt this year. Yeah for him! Of course, he didn't bother to keep any of his credit card statements.
We keep our finances separate. (That is our recipe for a happy marriage.) So he became uber defensive when I had to go through his checkbook registers. Hello??? Separate does not equal Secret. What is it about taxes that bring out the worst in people?
I'm not even done yet (our tax appointment is Thursday. Ack!) and I'm pretty disgusted with the numbers I'm seeing. I can tell you without getting into exact figures that we spent roughly the same amount of money for Blue Cross/Blue Shield PPO premiums (self & family), gasoline for Daddy-O's landscape business and copays for prescriptions and doctors visits. And the three amounts combined were more than my salary my first year working for the Government.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here is a picture of B a the Scitechatorium. He's getting electrocuted by a Van de Graff generator. It was really neat and it made his new mullet stand up all over the place. Interestingly enough, Nana said when she was a girl she got to be the class volunteer for the same experiment. Only in her class she touched the ball and another student touched her, another touched that student, etc, etc... all around the room. As the electrical charge passed through each one to the other their hair stood on end. Pretty soon the whole class's hair was standing straight up!
I love this picture of D. He's talking to his Nana on the phone. I kept trying to take the phone from him but he wouldn't let me. I can't get over how old he looks. And mature. And like a guy. Look at that body language. Add 12 or 13 years and it will be a girl he's talking to on the other end of that phone. Just like his daddy.
Speaking of his Daddy... D is still trying to work out which is the working end of a lawnmower. Is the love of motorized objects inherently male? He can't see the levers and wheels and blades and such. He only had to hear the motor once to fall in love. It must be some sort of testosterone poisoning.
Please tell me I'm not the only one in this boat lost in the fog on a Sea of Hell. Oh, the personal tax papers are a piece of cake. I keep them in reasonable order all year. But the business taxes. Oh ho ho. Now that is another story entirely!
Daddy-O is not the most organized man in the world. He is very proud of himself for keeping a file of each and every receipt this year. Yeah for him! Of course, he didn't bother to keep any of his credit card statements.
We keep our finances separate. (That is our recipe for a happy marriage.) So he became uber defensive when I had to go through his checkbook registers. Hello??? Separate does not equal Secret. What is it about taxes that bring out the worst in people?
I'm not even done yet (our tax appointment is Thursday. Ack!) and I'm pretty disgusted with the numbers I'm seeing. I can tell you without getting into exact figures that we spent roughly the same amount of money for Blue Cross/Blue Shield PPO premiums (self & family), gasoline for Daddy-O's landscape business and copays for prescriptions and doctors visits. And the three amounts combined were more than my salary my first year working for the Government.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here is a picture of B a the Scitechatorium. He's getting electrocuted by a Van de Graff generator. It was really neat and it made his new mullet stand up all over the place. Interestingly enough, Nana said when she was a girl she got to be the class volunteer for the same experiment. Only in her class she touched the ball and another student touched her, another touched that student, etc, etc... all around the room. As the electrical charge passed through each one to the other their hair stood on end. Pretty soon the whole class's hair was standing straight up!
I love this picture of D. He's talking to his Nana on the phone. I kept trying to take the phone from him but he wouldn't let me. I can't get over how old he looks. And mature. And like a guy. Look at that body language. Add 12 or 13 years and it will be a girl he's talking to on the other end of that phone. Just like his daddy. 
Speaking of his Daddy... D is still trying to work out which is the working end of a lawnmower. Is the love of motorized objects inherently male? He can't see the levers and wheels and blades and such. He only had to hear the motor once to fall in love. It must be some sort of testosterone poisoning.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Pimp My Preschool
D's first IEP (Individual Education Program) is next Thursday. When he turns 3 next month he transitions from the County's Early Intervention Program to the School District's for disability services. Our last few weeks have been quite busy with joint meetings between the County & District, exiting reviews & reports from County, initial observations from District personnel, etc. Plus, the School District is displaying their free preschool programs artfully before us like cat house wares.
District Pimp: "Would our PEEP program please you? She is nice to look at, no? Her language, it is not very good but she has excellent self-help skills.", wink, wink.
Skeptical Parents: "But D really loves a good conversation.", we complain. "He's pretty much all audio being blind and all. Isn't PEEP focused mostly on children with a language deficit?"
District Pimp: "Ah, yes, it is true. But, D, he could be a role model! A skilled man! Who does not want that for their son? And our girls could teach D a thing or two about taking care of himself.", more winking. "Plus, he can have an hour gratis each and every Monday and Wednesday from 12:30 to 1:30 while all the other 3 year olds are eating lunch."
District Pimp: "Or perhaps you would prefer CJ? She has most recently expanded her repertoire to include our more, er, inexperienced clientele."
Skeptical Parents: "Isn't that the school with mostly autistic and cerebral palsy kids? I've heard from some of our therapists that generally the kids there have other issues also and the social and verbal abilities are not the greatest. That's the main reason we want D in school is to socialize him."
District Pimp: "Well, um, yes. However, CJ does provide regular, er, group activities with the class next door for those clients who need added, um, stimulation."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The District is required to provide all vision impaired kids with a free and appropriate education beginning at age 3. "Appropriate", of course, is the sticking point. I don't feel that a preschool that requires a 40 MINUTE COMMUTE by bus each way, only to be surrounded by mentally handicapped, non to low verbal and low social children to be an appropriate place for a blind child who is ALL AUDIO and HIGHLY VERBAL and NOT MENTALLY HANDICAPPED but does need help in the social peer arena - even if it is free. Nor do I think a one hour class with a focus on speech therapy is appropriate for a 3 year old who has language skills in the 4-5 year old range. Again, even if it is free. Not even as a supplement to the preschool he is attending now.
I just don't feel like we need to let them off the hook by allowing them to place him in their programs just because they are there. They. Are. Not. Appropriate.
That being said, our Governor is cutting our school budgets 10% statewide. I also don't feel we need to ask them to pay for D's private preschool. We would be sending him there anyway if he was sighted and they have much greater needs for what limited money they have. What we will ask them for, however, is a paid aide for his class, some training for his preschool teachers to help them bring D into the class better, and perhaps things like special appliances (beeping eggs, some of those little keychain memo recorders, etc) so he can participate in special school activities like Easter Egg Hunts, and the circle time activities of "guess who's picture this is?".
Any of you who have experience with IEPs... do you have any other suggestions?
Here is the uptake of his reviews:
As I said before, language skills mostly in the 4-5 yr range. My boys a talker. Too much so sometimes! Just the other day he said, "Dad, I can't find my f*ckin' alphabet ball." I guess it's time for Mommy to check her potty mouth.
He'll also say "God!" when he's really frustrated. I think this bothers me more than the other. Seems like I'm constantly telling him not to say that. Then he'll say, "But I want to say 'God'."
He's right at age level for his fine motor skills with the exception of those that require vision.
He's beyond age level for gross motor but they don't have a questionnaire that goes beyond in his areas of expertise (stamina, agility, dexterity). He can climb trees, walk with his cane for nearly half a mile without tiring, etc.
The only area he really lacks in is peer socialization. That's my next priority!!!
We did make what I consider to be significant progress this week, however. He has actually mentioned a girl from his class at home - all week. Just her name, over and over, but it's a start - and a first. "Did you say 'Tiana'?", he asks.
No I didn't. But I am so, so glad you did.
District Pimp: "Would our PEEP program please you? She is nice to look at, no? Her language, it is not very good but she has excellent self-help skills.", wink, wink.
Skeptical Parents: "But D really loves a good conversation.", we complain. "He's pretty much all audio being blind and all. Isn't PEEP focused mostly on children with a language deficit?"
District Pimp: "Ah, yes, it is true. But, D, he could be a role model! A skilled man! Who does not want that for their son? And our girls could teach D a thing or two about taking care of himself.", more winking. "Plus, he can have an hour gratis each and every Monday and Wednesday from 12:30 to 1:30 while all the other 3 year olds are eating lunch."
District Pimp: "Or perhaps you would prefer CJ? She has most recently expanded her repertoire to include our more, er, inexperienced clientele."
Skeptical Parents: "Isn't that the school with mostly autistic and cerebral palsy kids? I've heard from some of our therapists that generally the kids there have other issues also and the social and verbal abilities are not the greatest. That's the main reason we want D in school is to socialize him."
District Pimp: "Well, um, yes. However, CJ does provide regular, er, group activities with the class next door for those clients who need added, um, stimulation."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The District is required to provide all vision impaired kids with a free and appropriate education beginning at age 3. "Appropriate", of course, is the sticking point. I don't feel that a preschool that requires a 40 MINUTE COMMUTE by bus each way, only to be surrounded by mentally handicapped, non to low verbal and low social children to be an appropriate place for a blind child who is ALL AUDIO and HIGHLY VERBAL and NOT MENTALLY HANDICAPPED but does need help in the social peer arena - even if it is free. Nor do I think a one hour class with a focus on speech therapy is appropriate for a 3 year old who has language skills in the 4-5 year old range. Again, even if it is free. Not even as a supplement to the preschool he is attending now.
I just don't feel like we need to let them off the hook by allowing them to place him in their programs just because they are there. They. Are. Not. Appropriate.
That being said, our Governor is cutting our school budgets 10% statewide. I also don't feel we need to ask them to pay for D's private preschool. We would be sending him there anyway if he was sighted and they have much greater needs for what limited money they have. What we will ask them for, however, is a paid aide for his class, some training for his preschool teachers to help them bring D into the class better, and perhaps things like special appliances (beeping eggs, some of those little keychain memo recorders, etc) so he can participate in special school activities like Easter Egg Hunts, and the circle time activities of "guess who's picture this is?".
Any of you who have experience with IEPs... do you have any other suggestions?
Here is the uptake of his reviews:
As I said before, language skills mostly in the 4-5 yr range. My boys a talker. Too much so sometimes! Just the other day he said, "Dad, I can't find my f*ckin' alphabet ball." I guess it's time for Mommy to check her potty mouth.
He'll also say "God!" when he's really frustrated. I think this bothers me more than the other. Seems like I'm constantly telling him not to say that. Then he'll say, "But I want to say 'God'."
He's right at age level for his fine motor skills with the exception of those that require vision.
He's beyond age level for gross motor but they don't have a questionnaire that goes beyond in his areas of expertise (stamina, agility, dexterity). He can climb trees, walk with his cane for nearly half a mile without tiring, etc.
The only area he really lacks in is peer socialization. That's my next priority!!!
We did make what I consider to be significant progress this week, however. He has actually mentioned a girl from his class at home - all week. Just her name, over and over, but it's a start - and a first. "Did you say 'Tiana'?", he asks.
No I didn't. But I am so, so glad you did.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Friendly Foods
Here is another link to the next part in that series of articles I posted about yesterday.
Part 3 in the series of 4: Herbs or Natural Products That Protect Against Cancer Growth
Oooh! I love this topic!!! Of course, this article is targeted at those of you (lucky bastards) who DO NOT have cancer. The first two are for those of us who are not near so fortunate.
I had to go back and read that last part after I started cursing the author for his double-crossing ways once I read that SOY was on both the Increase Cancer Growth list and the Protection list. I'm like that. I always start with the meat of an article... who cares about the fluff? Details? Pshaw! Rush me to a conclusion so I can act quickly and erroneously! Gah!
Now, my friends, I ask you one very important question: do I consider myself as 'having cancer' or not? I am 17.5 months NED. But I also kind of look at it as once a cancer patient, always a cancer patient.
And the answer is...
See. Once a cancer patient, always a cancer patient. Damnit.
Here is the Reader's Digest Condensed version of the normal foods on the list for you lazy types that never follow links (yeah, that's you, Mom!).
Part 3 in the series of 4: Herbs or Natural Products That Protect Against Cancer Growth
Oooh! I love this topic!!! Of course, this article is targeted at those of you (lucky bastards) who DO NOT have cancer. The first two are for those of us who are not near so fortunate.
I had to go back and read that last part after I started cursing the author for his double-crossing ways once I read that SOY was on both the Increase Cancer Growth list and the Protection list. I'm like that. I always start with the meat of an article... who cares about the fluff? Details? Pshaw! Rush me to a conclusion so I can act quickly and erroneously! Gah!
"For each target group, the aim is to identify herbs and natural products
with the potential for or against cancer growth. For example, if a woman
with breast cancer takes soy, she increases her risk of cancer growth. If
a woman who does not have cancer takes soy, she protects herself against
cancer."
Now, my friends, I ask you one very important question: do I consider myself as 'having cancer' or not? I am 17.5 months NED. But I also kind of look at it as once a cancer patient, always a cancer patient.
And the answer is...
"Women with breast cancer or with a history of breast cancer should avoid
therapeutic doses of soy products especially if they are taking tamoxifen."
See. Once a cancer patient, always a cancer patient. Damnit.
Here is the Reader's Digest Condensed version of the normal foods on the list for you lazy types that never follow links (yeah, that's you, Mom!).
- Apples (I guess the old addage comes from somewhere, eh?)
- Asparagus (It's springtime. Go get you some little green spears!!! Mmmmmm!)
- Barley (I got nothin' here)
- Cabbage (changes the way estrogen is metabolized - who knew?)
- Cranberry
- Folic Acid - not a food but hey!
- Garlic
- Green Tea
- Lavender - also not a food - but pretty
- Olive Oil (so get away from that vegetable oil already!) (Mom, that was for you again)
- Soy (fickle, fickle condiment. Don't turn your back on it!)
- Spinach (Popey & Olive Oil knew something we didn't)
In conclusion, I don't know. Go cook something. It's almost lunch time here and I'm starving now. Geez. I think I'll have an apple with some peanut butter on it. And for dinner tonight? Perhaps a gently roasted cornish game hen with some asparagus and a spinach salad. No, really. I bought all that stuff at the store yesterday before I read the article. Just braggin' on myself for a minute there.
More on the last in the series tomorrow.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
No vitamin C for me, thank you
It's funny the things you learn from you blog statistics... For instance, through someone's search (thank you whoever you are) I've learned that 3 cases of IBC were diagnosed within 10 months among 24 co-workers. Bizarre!
But it sent me to a website I'd never been to before that had some great information. And a little video too. I followed a link to the IBC Research Foundation.
What I found really intriguing, however, was a couple of research articles I found there. They are on natural products that inhibit cancer growth and some that are known to encourage cancer growth.
I am disturbed to find glucosamine (which I take religiously), licorice (there went my recent addiction to Good N Plenty's), soy, vitamin C, vitamin E, and flaxseed (and I was JUST going to start taking that to be healthier) on the list of things known to grow cancer cells. Yikes!!!
On the other hand... it was found that "in vitro studies of components of marijuana indicate a potential to inhibit human breast cancer cells and produce tumor eradications." Oh, say it ain't so! Ha! First it helps with nausea now it inhibits growth of cancer cells... What's next? World peace and global munchies???
I jest. But the information seems valid and very interesting. Check it out.
But it sent me to a website I'd never been to before that had some great information. And a little video too. I followed a link to the IBC Research Foundation.
What I found really intriguing, however, was a couple of research articles I found there. They are on natural products that inhibit cancer growth and some that are known to encourage cancer growth.
I am disturbed to find glucosamine (which I take religiously), licorice (there went my recent addiction to Good N Plenty's), soy, vitamin C, vitamin E, and flaxseed (and I was JUST going to start taking that to be healthier) on the list of things known to grow cancer cells. Yikes!!!
On the other hand... it was found that "in vitro studies of components of marijuana indicate a potential to inhibit human breast cancer cells and produce tumor eradications." Oh, say it ain't so! Ha! First it helps with nausea now it inhibits growth of cancer cells... What's next? World peace and global munchies???
I jest. But the information seems valid and very interesting. Check it out.
Tooth Fairy - 1, Lying Child - 1, Mom - 0
The results are in. The Piper, er, Tooth Fairy has been paid. B found his note from the illustrious and ticked off Fairy. He has begun the ruing of his lying ways.
B was so excited to have received a letter from the famed Tooth Fairy that he took it to Daddy-O for reading. The first line crushed him. "I know you lied to your mother..." He was completely bummed. Daddy-O played his part to perfection.
"You lied about the Tooth Fairy leaving you money?", the astonished & confused Daddy-O asked.
"Yeah.", in a very, very small voice.
The long & the short of that conversation is that B needed to do some apologizing to me and soon.
Fast forward to late in the evening. B took me outside to talk "privately". He was so serious. He couldn't lift his head up or look me in the eye. If I hadn't known what was coming I'd have been all concerned and asking him what was wrong...
His confession went something like this:
"Mom, I'm really sorry."
"For what?"
"I lied about the Tooth Fairy leaving me money."
"What? Why would you do that, B? She didn't leave you any money at all? Why would you lie about something like that?"
"I don't know." hangs head and shuffles feet. "I just wanted my friends to think she gave me money anyway." Oh, the peer pressure. The keeping up with the Jones'. It begins.
Then he proceeds to tell me all about the letter and grows more and more excited in the telling. He brings me the letter and explains that he's going to take it to school to show his friends and prove that she is real. "Mom! This is how she signs her name!"
My boy... have I done a wonderful job on the snowing or what? "You're going to take a letter to school to show your friends that talks about you lying???"
"Oh no.", he scoffs, "I'm only going to show them her signature!"
Bah! I'm not sure if that backfired or what.
But he did have to forfeit the pre-set 5 token penalty for lying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In other weekend news... D was officially moved into a BIG BOY BED on Friday night. He has been wonderful about not getting out of bed. He l-o-v-e-s his bed.
The crib is for sale. One more piece of infant gear forever out of our lives. Kind of bittersweet.
B was so excited to have received a letter from the famed Tooth Fairy that he took it to Daddy-O for reading. The first line crushed him. "I know you lied to your mother..." He was completely bummed. Daddy-O played his part to perfection.
"You lied about the Tooth Fairy leaving you money?", the astonished & confused Daddy-O asked.
"Yeah.", in a very, very small voice.
The long & the short of that conversation is that B needed to do some apologizing to me and soon.
Fast forward to late in the evening. B took me outside to talk "privately". He was so serious. He couldn't lift his head up or look me in the eye. If I hadn't known what was coming I'd have been all concerned and asking him what was wrong...
His confession went something like this:
"Mom, I'm really sorry."
"For what?"
"I lied about the Tooth Fairy leaving me money."
"What? Why would you do that, B? She didn't leave you any money at all? Why would you lie about something like that?"
"I don't know." hangs head and shuffles feet. "I just wanted my friends to think she gave me money anyway." Oh, the peer pressure. The keeping up with the Jones'. It begins.
Then he proceeds to tell me all about the letter and grows more and more excited in the telling. He brings me the letter and explains that he's going to take it to school to show his friends and prove that she is real. "Mom! This is how she signs her name!"
My boy... have I done a wonderful job on the snowing or what? "You're going to take a letter to school to show your friends that talks about you lying???"
"Oh no.", he scoffs, "I'm only going to show them her signature!"
Bah! I'm not sure if that backfired or what.
But he did have to forfeit the pre-set 5 token penalty for lying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In other weekend news... D was officially moved into a BIG BOY BED on Friday night. He has been wonderful about not getting out of bed. He l-o-v-e-s his bed.
The crib is for sale. One more piece of infant gear forever out of our lives. Kind of bittersweet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
