Oy vey. Finals week sucked the life out of me. But I came out of it with four A's. YESSSSS....all those hours in that stinking anatomy lab finally paid off. I still smell it, but I don't really think anyone else does. It may very well be a figment of my olfactory bulbs. After all, there is an entire cranial nerve dedicated just to detecting scents in our environment (that would be cranial nerve one). I'm far more interested in the hotly debated cranial nerve zero, or terminal nerve, which may (or may not) enable the detection of pheremones. If, in fact, that is even what it is there for. It was originally discovered in sharks in the late 1800's and then found in the human brain around 1913, but it is traditionally not recognized as one of the cranial nerves. At least, it doesn't rate the traditional list. It made my list 'cause stuff like that just...does. Will it, in fact, allow me to be a better medical professional. No, probably not. But it will make me a more interesting one!
Yesterday (Friday the 14th) was NOT a good day at the Scat household. Beanstalk...long of limb and tetrasomy of the 18th chromosome is, well, fragile bone-wise. We just almost made it an entire school year without breaking a bone. Notice I said almost. Yesterday, his class was taking a trip to "Pump It Up" which is one of those indoor inflatable bounce-house type places. Great fun can be had there. Great fun and one fractured left femur--yep, the big leg bone. So, just to keep the tally marks straight, that's five years of school with at least one broken bone AT SCHOOL per year. Not counting the freebies garnered during summers. One year there were three...breaks, that is. Mostly arms. He spent the night with his Dad at Texas Orthopedic Hospital and got to see his favorite orthopedic surgeon today. Yippee. If all else was equal--which it is not--we'd school the boy at home, but special kids need special attention and not being qualified in special education (and occupational, physical, speech, and auditory therapy and possessing all the cool toys), while it is beginning to be a real downside to my higher education, is still a fact. I'm not qualified. So...I have to be in a position to pay for it. I'm going to be in school forever...and working for longer than that.
Squib has announced that he is "not sure he wants to go to high school." Fortunately, I think, he doesn't really mean high school. He means after high school. I was sooooo hoping that he would think my going back to school would be interesting and find it at least a little fun. He loves looking at the pictures of dissections and practising with the sim software with me. He's just not a fan of studying or all the reading. Even if I do most of it when he is napping or sleeping, he seems to get the idea that I'm pouring hours into these books and he's right. Unfortunately, it's only going to get worse before it gets better. And the four-year-old mind sees months and years as eternity. He'll start his own school in the fall. I'm not sure whether that will make matters better or worse. I hope better. Lots better. He's been very fortunate thus far to be able to toddle about my office his whole life rather than stay in a day care facility or preschool center. Even this last semester he always stayed with my father if I was unable to be here, but somewhere in his little mind the change is palpable. Unlike Beanstalk, Squib is averse to change in the extreme. He has a meter in his brain and I think it must be on tilt already.
On a good note...RAIN!!!! Finally! Rain! Toting the dratted hoses around has been getting laborious and I'm not sure the remaining squash and okra are worth it. We waved off on the melons and are trying to save a few small trees that need the extra help, but NOTHING works like rain and it's about time we got some! I love rain. I love the sound of the water pouring down on the decks, the thunder rumbling low around the house and the flash of lightning. I could watch it for hours. It makes me sleep like a baby. I'd run around in it, but it's dark and I'm sorta in for the night. Besides...I do have neighbors...not that they'd find it out of the ordinary or anything. Surely they're used to weird by now, right? It isn't like I'm gonna streak while I'm doing the raindance or anything. This time. I have no desire to see the inside of the jail.
Uh oh...BIG thunder. The king of thunder terror may still be awake. I may not get away with this much longer. Dear God, please let him be asleep. I'm not sure I can follow one sleepless night with another night of sleep with the four-year-old mixmaster on my sofa. He's coughing...I shall hold my breath. Yes, I am sitting here on my sofa holding my breath like a real loser of a mother hoping my little one does not need me to sleep under his wet-diaper-laden body all night. Apparently his "buddy" (my dad) has already checked on him. He told Buddy to "go away" because he was "sleeping!" He is also apparently sweating bullets, but is hunkered down underneath that blanket like it's a thunder shield. Now I am definitely feeling heelish. So...here I go to do my job.
...and I'm back. What a funny kid!! He's TERRIFIED. But he says "I'm dealing with it." He's sweating bullets and his eyes are big as dinner plates. He's bound himself up in the quilt, so I offered him a big sheet so he might not sweat so much. He accepted graciously and immediately wound his whole body up in it--head included. Pillow over head, he requested that all the doors be closed so he couldn't hear the thunder. So, closet, bathroom, and bedroom door are now shut. I couldn't hear him if I wanted to over the movie the grands are watching. I hope he passes out quickly 'cause he has one vivid imagination.
Everything is alive to him. We were printing out pictures today and I found him talking into the printer slot today saying "tum on out, picture, it's otay!" When he loses something, he calls it...like you would a dog or a person. I can't convince him that some things don't hear him. Nor can I dissuade him from trying to actively engage characters on the television in conversation. He's always yelling at them telling them not to go somewhere or do something or "look over here!" And to tell you the truth, I sort of like the fairy tale world he lives in and hope he gets to stay there as long as possible. But combine that imagination with a fear of thunder...I wonder what he thinks thunder really is? I have explained the phenomenon, but who knows how he's put it all together...who knows, I may have scared the pants off him further.
Come to think of it, I told him Beanstalk broke his leg on a field trip. Do the math Squib-style and we'll never get him to go on a field trip at this rate. Ever. Ah, the truth. Must be careful how and when we share that.
***Enter Power Outage.**
***Exit Power Outage***
Just in case you've been wondering why I haven't been writing, well...power outages, massive hard drive failures, broken legs, and other random conspiracies of circumstance. Simply unbelievable stuff that seems only to happen to me in the normal course of my life as though I'm training for some strange perpetual terminal electronic, basic services, and medical crisis. Really. That I can fix most things is actually becoming exasperating. I would rather enjoy the peace and quiet of a finally dead hard drive
So a day or two has passed...Beanstalk is safely ensconced at home where he is now king of the sofa and packing away the groceries while watching Andre Rieu performances on video. School...well, school may have to wait because we are now aware of some extenuating circumstances. I hate that. I really have hoped and prayed that he would be protected and that everyone would follow the safety precautions we've asked them to follow. Admittedly, it is easy to relax, but you just...can't...do...that completely. Yes, he has to live in the real world, but the real world can never forget that he is ultimately fragile. Not osteogenesis imperfecta, but something unique to tetrasomy 18p kids. With only 150 currently active cases, it's pretty much play-it-by-ear, but experimentation and chance are NOT big favorites of mine.