This last class is a pain-in-the-ass. Really. I'm sure it's valuable information and I might use it some day (doubt it), and if I had taken this course a year ago I would be more into it. But this is the last class for my Master's degree and I have senior-itus so bad even the the lull of a good night's sleep away from home barely makes up for my utter boredom with school. It's only five weeks: I should be able to focus and do more homework for only five more weeks... right? Come on, Terena, you can do it. You can write another paper and read another chapter and retain a little bit of what you learn. This is it! No more classes after this one. Don't give up now.
And then the one motivating thought that could cut through the haze of school fatigue trumpeted loudly in my brain: don't mess up your 4.0 in the last class you have to take.
Right now, I have a 4.0. I usually don't care about that, I mean really, are any potential employers going to check my GPA? I doubt it. So who cares, right? But for some bizarre reason that I can't fathom, I suddenly care a great deal about maintaining my 4.0 in grad school. I started caring when I decided to walk in the graduation ceremony next June. I didn't walk for my BA. The school sent my diploma in the mail. This time, I want to wear a gown and that silly square hat with the tassel and walk with my classmates up to the stage to get my diploma in front of my family and a few thousand strangers. And if I have a 4.0, I get some kind of acknowledgment for that, like a sticker or a gold chord on my gown.
Again, I have to wonder why this is suddenly so important to me. A sticker? I'm going to bust my ass in this final class for a sticker?
Yes. Yes I am.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Here's soap in your eye
On a cool, sunny Wednesday, I was sitting in front of the Peete's in West Portal, San Francisco, drinking a latte when my phone rang. It was Rick.
"Queen Teen just squirted liquid soap straight into her eye and I rinsed it out the best I could but she wouldn't hold still or keep her eyes open so I'm not sure if I got the soap out and she's still crying and her eye's all red and I don't know what to do now."
Um, I thought. What am I supposed to do? I'm 2 and a half hours from you guys.
I did my best to be helpful, but he'd already done everything I would have, so I praised his quick action for rinsing the eye and told him give Queen Teen a kiss from me. It was Wednesday, so I'd be home after class, late that night. There was nothing else to do but wait and see.
How the hell did she manage to squirt soap directly into her eye? That girl is talented.
When I got home that night Queen Teen was asleep, but she woke up several times that night complaining that her eye hurt. I sat up with her, wiping it with a cool cloth and assuring her it would be okay. By the morning her eye was bright red and the lids swollen. I gave her a cool cloth to hold against her eye and she stayed home from school that day. She was rubbing it so hard the area around her eye socket was bruised and raw. We couldn't get her to stop, and we didn't want to tie her hands behind her back. After dinner that evening, Rick and I decided to take her to the ER because her eye was looking worse and getting goopy.
The good news was that her eye was fine. Rick had done an excellent job rinsing it, despite Queen Teen's refusal to hold still. The bad was that she was having an allergic reaction to the soap which was why she was rubbing it so much. The doctor prescribed eye drops for the itching and antibiotic drops just in case it was getting infected and sent us home. That was the quickest ER visit I've ever experienced (less than 2 hours. gotta be a world record).
It took five days for the itching and redness to go away and another couple of days for Queen Teen to stop complaining that her eye was "bugging" her. I felt bad for her and I knew it was genuinely bothering her, but after day four of constant whining I really wanted to tell her to "suck it up." I love my girl dearly, but boy can she be a drama queen!
All is well now. She's back in school and so am I. Her eye looks great with no sign of redness or injury. But I'd still like to know how she managed to squirt liquid hand soap directly into her eye. Did she lift the bottle to look at it with the spout pointed at her face and push the lever? I bet she never does that again.
"Queen Teen just squirted liquid soap straight into her eye and I rinsed it out the best I could but she wouldn't hold still or keep her eyes open so I'm not sure if I got the soap out and she's still crying and her eye's all red and I don't know what to do now."
Um, I thought. What am I supposed to do? I'm 2 and a half hours from you guys.
I did my best to be helpful, but he'd already done everything I would have, so I praised his quick action for rinsing the eye and told him give Queen Teen a kiss from me. It was Wednesday, so I'd be home after class, late that night. There was nothing else to do but wait and see.
How the hell did she manage to squirt soap directly into her eye? That girl is talented.
When I got home that night Queen Teen was asleep, but she woke up several times that night complaining that her eye hurt. I sat up with her, wiping it with a cool cloth and assuring her it would be okay. By the morning her eye was bright red and the lids swollen. I gave her a cool cloth to hold against her eye and she stayed home from school that day. She was rubbing it so hard the area around her eye socket was bruised and raw. We couldn't get her to stop, and we didn't want to tie her hands behind her back. After dinner that evening, Rick and I decided to take her to the ER because her eye was looking worse and getting goopy.
The good news was that her eye was fine. Rick had done an excellent job rinsing it, despite Queen Teen's refusal to hold still. The bad was that she was having an allergic reaction to the soap which was why she was rubbing it so much. The doctor prescribed eye drops for the itching and antibiotic drops just in case it was getting infected and sent us home. That was the quickest ER visit I've ever experienced (less than 2 hours. gotta be a world record).
It took five days for the itching and redness to go away and another couple of days for Queen Teen to stop complaining that her eye was "bugging" her. I felt bad for her and I knew it was genuinely bothering her, but after day four of constant whining I really wanted to tell her to "suck it up." I love my girl dearly, but boy can she be a drama queen!
All is well now. She's back in school and so am I. Her eye looks great with no sign of redness or injury. But I'd still like to know how she managed to squirt liquid hand soap directly into her eye. Did she lift the bottle to look at it with the spout pointed at her face and push the lever? I bet she never does that again.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Some pictures from Graduation
Queen Teen and her teacher, Laura Fogg, and our good friend, Sharon
Getting her Certificate
Cousins
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
One last class at SF State
I'm sitting in the student union on the San Francisco Sate University campus, sipping a lukewarm Latte and watching other students wander by on their way to classes. It's summer, so the food court is quiet; you can actually find a table. You can walk through the bookstore without squeezing past hundreds of students fighting for the last few used copies of the text book they need. The mood of the university is laid back and slower then during the Fall and Spring. If you're here taking a class over the summer, you're either very dedicated to your major, or are very close to graduating.
I'm very close to graduating. After I take this one class, I'm finished with all of my course work for my Master's degree. I'll just have my internships in the Fall, plus a Master's exam. No more sitting in a classroom absorbing information; it's almost time to put all that info to work.
The class I'm taking teaches how to write a research proposal, but since I don't have to do a research project for my degree, it feels like a massive waste of time and money. It's a 15 week class crammed into a 5 week summer session. 5 weeks is better than 15, and I'll do my best not to give in to the school burnout I feel. I might actually learn something useful, and I get to spend three days in San Fran again, sleeping in, exploring my favorite city, seeing friends.... I mean studying every single moment because I'm far too busy to have any fun. And besides, after all those weekend classes learning to cross streets under blindfold, this one research class is going to feel like a leisurely stroll through the Japanese Tea Garden while sipping soothing Jasmine tea.
The hardest part of all this is my family. Being gone for three straight days has created a lot of tension again. Queen Teen is PISSED, and is taking out all her anger on Rick. Rick is tired and has been working too much, so really doesn't have the patience to deal with angry-teen. I feel guilty that I'm here in a quiet room (I'm staying at a friend's house while she's in New York. So nice, all this solitude.) able to to hear myself think again. But I'm trying to enjoy this time and not let guilt ruin it. This is the last of my "escapes." Once I'm done with my classes, it will be very, very, very, very, very, very, hard for me to run away from home any more.
So here I sit, sipping my latte, staring out the window and writing in my blog, when I should be working on the first draft of section one of my research proposal.
Wonderful
*********************************************************************
Update on Queen Teen's graduation
Queen Teen didn't make it to the actual ceremony with her classmates. It was just too hard on her. Instead we had a party at our house and a small ceremony of our own where we presented her with her Principal's List award. Several of her teachers were there, as well as my dad, mom, brother, sis-in-law, niece and nephew and my good friend Jody. Queen Teen was so excited and looked gorgeous in her new dress. Here's a pic. I'll post more soon.
I'm very close to graduating. After I take this one class, I'm finished with all of my course work for my Master's degree. I'll just have my internships in the Fall, plus a Master's exam. No more sitting in a classroom absorbing information; it's almost time to put all that info to work.
The class I'm taking teaches how to write a research proposal, but since I don't have to do a research project for my degree, it feels like a massive waste of time and money. It's a 15 week class crammed into a 5 week summer session. 5 weeks is better than 15, and I'll do my best not to give in to the school burnout I feel. I might actually learn something useful, and I get to spend three days in San Fran again, sleeping in, exploring my favorite city, seeing friends.... I mean studying every single moment because I'm far too busy to have any fun. And besides, after all those weekend classes learning to cross streets under blindfold, this one research class is going to feel like a leisurely stroll through the Japanese Tea Garden while sipping soothing Jasmine tea.
The hardest part of all this is my family. Being gone for three straight days has created a lot of tension again. Queen Teen is PISSED, and is taking out all her anger on Rick. Rick is tired and has been working too much, so really doesn't have the patience to deal with angry-teen. I feel guilty that I'm here in a quiet room (I'm staying at a friend's house while she's in New York. So nice, all this solitude.) able to to hear myself think again. But I'm trying to enjoy this time and not let guilt ruin it. This is the last of my "escapes." Once I'm done with my classes, it will be very, very, very, very, very, very, hard for me to run away from home any more.
So here I sit, sipping my latte, staring out the window and writing in my blog, when I should be working on the first draft of section one of my research proposal.
Wonderful
*********************************************************************
Update on Queen Teen's graduation
Queen Teen didn't make it to the actual ceremony with her classmates. It was just too hard on her. Instead we had a party at our house and a small ceremony of our own where we presented her with her Principal's List award. Several of her teachers were there, as well as my dad, mom, brother, sis-in-law, niece and nephew and my good friend Jody. Queen Teen was so excited and looked gorgeous in her new dress. Here's a pic. I'll post more soon.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
8th grade graduation: what's the big deal?
Today is Queen Teen's last day of Jr High. Tonight is graduation and a celebration here at the house with family and many of the people who have helped her get this far: teachers, therapists, advocates and friends. She has a new, pink and white polka dot dress (so pretty!) and a new white crochet bolero sweater. Family from far away have been sending cards, cash and good wishes. I'm cleaning the house and baking quiche for the party. Only one problem...
Queen Teen doesn't know what the hell is going on.
I've been trying to explain what "8th grade graduation" is for a month.
"Graduation is a ceremony where are all the kids who are in the 8th grade are honored for all their hard work. You get an award and all your family and friends will be there and we'll cheer."
She looked at me slack jawed and blinked.
"Um... we're going to have a party here at the house to celebrate all the hard work you've done. Then we'll go to the high school with the other 8th graders and you'll get your award."
Again, she stared at me, this time scrunching her eyebrows.
"It will be fun. You'll see. Your cousin is coming..."
She smiled at that.
"... and Nana and Uncle Chris and Aunt Margie and Grandpa Bear..."
She giggled.
"We'll all be there to cheer when you get your award for finishing Jr. High."
"Why?"
"Why will we be there?"
"Why do I get a award?"
"Because you worked very hard and are now ready to go to High School."
She sighed. "I don't understand anything."
I've tried this conversation several times. I've looked for books about graduation and found one with Clifford, but it didn't arrive in time. I've looked for movies, but didn't find any she would understand. The problem is that the concept of a graduation is completely foreign to her. We went to her cousin's 8th grade graduation two years ago but we had to leave early because she had a panic attack.
She really doesn't care about all this fuss. What Queen Teen wants is for her days to be normal again. Early release, assemblies, parties and field days at school are annoying. Why all the excitement? All the fuss and rushing around. Everything just needs to be "normal." Then she'll be happy.
Later this morning I'll meet Queen Teen and her O and M teacher, Laura, to check out the location of the graduation and figure out how to get Queen Teen on the platform to accept her certificate. Wheelchair or Walker? One of her classmates, a strong boy who has become a good friend, will help her. But as we're sorting out the details of where she will sit and how she will get her diploma, I'm beginning to have doubts about the whole thing. The ceremony takes place on the football field, just as her cousin's graduation did. Will Queen Teen have a panic attack like she did at her cousin's graduation? Will she be able to sit through the almost 2 hours of speeches and band performances?
Who is this graduation for? Queen Teen, or me?
If it was up to Queen Teen she'd skip the whole thing.
But I want her to experience what a graduation is and accept her certificate, be acknowledged for all her hard work, and soak up some of the accolades that she misses out on.
Again, is that for her, or me?
If it's for me, is that so bad?
Queen Teen doesn't know what the hell is going on.
I've been trying to explain what "8th grade graduation" is for a month.
"Graduation is a ceremony where are all the kids who are in the 8th grade are honored for all their hard work. You get an award and all your family and friends will be there and we'll cheer."
She looked at me slack jawed and blinked.
"Um... we're going to have a party here at the house to celebrate all the hard work you've done. Then we'll go to the high school with the other 8th graders and you'll get your award."
Again, she stared at me, this time scrunching her eyebrows.
"It will be fun. You'll see. Your cousin is coming..."
She smiled at that.
"... and Nana and Uncle Chris and Aunt Margie and Grandpa Bear..."
She giggled.
"We'll all be there to cheer when you get your award for finishing Jr. High."
"Why?"
"Why will we be there?"
"Why do I get a award?"
"Because you worked very hard and are now ready to go to High School."
She sighed. "I don't understand anything."
I've tried this conversation several times. I've looked for books about graduation and found one with Clifford, but it didn't arrive in time. I've looked for movies, but didn't find any she would understand. The problem is that the concept of a graduation is completely foreign to her. We went to her cousin's 8th grade graduation two years ago but we had to leave early because she had a panic attack.
She really doesn't care about all this fuss. What Queen Teen wants is for her days to be normal again. Early release, assemblies, parties and field days at school are annoying. Why all the excitement? All the fuss and rushing around. Everything just needs to be "normal." Then she'll be happy.
Later this morning I'll meet Queen Teen and her O and M teacher, Laura, to check out the location of the graduation and figure out how to get Queen Teen on the platform to accept her certificate. Wheelchair or Walker? One of her classmates, a strong boy who has become a good friend, will help her. But as we're sorting out the details of where she will sit and how she will get her diploma, I'm beginning to have doubts about the whole thing. The ceremony takes place on the football field, just as her cousin's graduation did. Will Queen Teen have a panic attack like she did at her cousin's graduation? Will she be able to sit through the almost 2 hours of speeches and band performances?
Who is this graduation for? Queen Teen, or me?
If it was up to Queen Teen she'd skip the whole thing.
But I want her to experience what a graduation is and accept her certificate, be acknowledged for all her hard work, and soak up some of the accolades that she misses out on.
Again, is that for her, or me?
If it's for me, is that so bad?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
At last, a weekend at home
It's Memorial Day Weekend, the "official" kick off to Summer in the US; a three-day weekend full of bbq's, road trips, beach parties, picnics, and carousing with friends. Except for me and my family. We are happily staying home and trying to do as little as possible. This is the first weekend we've all been together since school started and Queen Teen is ecstatic that I'm home.
So much has happened this May! I don't know where to start. The launch of the newest book from my publishing company; my O and M training over; the end of the Spring Semester; Queen Teen's Stanford appointments; a juggling festival; my father's visit; Queen Teen's birthday and rapidly approaching eighth-grade graduation party... all in one short month. Plus I want to write about crossing 19th avenue and what we learned on our last O and M class. But Summer session begins next week and I doubt I'll get to write everything I want.
Summer session next week... sigh
Don't worry about that right now, Terena. Enjoy this beautiful weekend with your daughter.
On Friday night my husband and I went on a date for the first time in three months. We ate take-out Thai noodles in the sunshine, then walked around town hand-in-hand before getting a glass of wine at the pub. It felt so good to be out in the world on a Friday night with my boy instead of closed up in a classroom. We saw Robin Hood and got sick on greasy, buttery tasting popcorn, then walked home together under the stars. Beautiful.
Saturday I took Queen Teen to the farmer's market where we tasted fresh made jam and smelled the peppermint, rosemary and basil starts. I was surprised by how full the market was and how many stalls were operating, but then I remembered that the market had been going since late April (some of the farmers go all year) while I was in class. The entire Spring is a blur of stress and curiosity for me, but the world kept on going in its usual way. I feel that I've arrived back in my own country after being on an expedition to Antarctica for 5 months... while blindfolded.
Today, my body crashed. I woke up at 4 a.m. nauseous and shaking. Sometimes I get these episodes where my body behaves like I've run a 40 mile marathon at full speed on too little food and water. Down I fall at the finish line, shaking and praying I don't start throwing up in front of the spectators. Fun. So rather than getting anything productive done, I spent the entire morning in bed, watched Roman Holiday, slept, then slowly got myself back together. By the afternoon I was feeling better, just wobbly. Queen Teen and I watched movies, watered the garden and made a scarecrow out of chicken wire, yarn, pipe cleaners and a child's pink princess dress. Tomorrow I'll rest more, and then we'll look for a cardigan to go with her new dress for eighth grade graduation this Thursday.
Wow. Off to high school after this Thursday.
My house is a mess, my yard overgrown, and my car is starting to smell like a college student's dorm room. A boy's dorm room. I have a huge bag of papers to shred and another pile of clothes to mend. 12 people are coming to my home to celebrate Queen Teen's promotion.
I'll worry about all that on Tuesday. It's memorial day weekend. I'm going to sit in the sun.
So much has happened this May! I don't know where to start. The launch of the newest book from my publishing company; my O and M training over; the end of the Spring Semester; Queen Teen's Stanford appointments; a juggling festival; my father's visit; Queen Teen's birthday and rapidly approaching eighth-grade graduation party... all in one short month. Plus I want to write about crossing 19th avenue and what we learned on our last O and M class. But Summer session begins next week and I doubt I'll get to write everything I want.
Summer session next week... sigh
Don't worry about that right now, Terena. Enjoy this beautiful weekend with your daughter.
On Friday night my husband and I went on a date for the first time in three months. We ate take-out Thai noodles in the sunshine, then walked around town hand-in-hand before getting a glass of wine at the pub. It felt so good to be out in the world on a Friday night with my boy instead of closed up in a classroom. We saw Robin Hood and got sick on greasy, buttery tasting popcorn, then walked home together under the stars. Beautiful.
Saturday I took Queen Teen to the farmer's market where we tasted fresh made jam and smelled the peppermint, rosemary and basil starts. I was surprised by how full the market was and how many stalls were operating, but then I remembered that the market had been going since late April (some of the farmers go all year) while I was in class. The entire Spring is a blur of stress and curiosity for me, but the world kept on going in its usual way. I feel that I've arrived back in my own country after being on an expedition to Antarctica for 5 months... while blindfolded.
Today, my body crashed. I woke up at 4 a.m. nauseous and shaking. Sometimes I get these episodes where my body behaves like I've run a 40 mile marathon at full speed on too little food and water. Down I fall at the finish line, shaking and praying I don't start throwing up in front of the spectators. Fun. So rather than getting anything productive done, I spent the entire morning in bed, watched Roman Holiday, slept, then slowly got myself back together. By the afternoon I was feeling better, just wobbly. Queen Teen and I watched movies, watered the garden and made a scarecrow out of chicken wire, yarn, pipe cleaners and a child's pink princess dress. Tomorrow I'll rest more, and then we'll look for a cardigan to go with her new dress for eighth grade graduation this Thursday.
Wow. Off to high school after this Thursday.
My house is a mess, my yard overgrown, and my car is starting to smell like a college student's dorm room. A boy's dorm room. I have a huge bag of papers to shred and another pile of clothes to mend. 12 people are coming to my home to celebrate Queen Teen's promotion.
I'll worry about all that on Tuesday. It's memorial day weekend. I'm going to sit in the sun.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Why I have had zero time to write
Plus, it's the end of the Spring semester. Recently, we went to Guide Dogs for the Blind and learned to travel with a Dog Guide.
This is Toledo, one of the greatest dogs I've ever met. He and I had a blast traveling together, and when we were done, we took some time to play, which included face licking (he licked me. I'm not fond of licking dog hair).
And then there is Queen Teen, who will be graduating Jr High this June and will soon be a High School student. Oh my...
It has been a fast paced, overwhelming, fascinating, thrilling, and enriching Spring. But I'm glad the semester is almost over. I miss writing. Once classes end, I'm looking forward to finishing my play and blogging again. I have a lot to write about, and I'm looking forward to reading your blogs.
Until then, enjoy.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Taking a break from stress and worry
Queen Teen and I had reached our max on unhappiness, so we headed to Disneyland. I bought a Disney vacation package from AAA (great deal!). The two of us packed our bags, said goodbye to homework, therapy, doctors and housework and then flew to LA to lose ourselves in the Magic Kingdom.
What is it about Disneyland that makes people drop everything and spend far more money than they should just to wander around the park in the hope of meeting a Princess or getting on a ride in less than 30 minutes? I have never been what you'd call a Disney person; I could care less about Mickey Mouse and I'd scoff at people who collected pins. But now, I can't wait for our annual trip to D-Land. Annual trip? Yep. Queen Teen demands it. We hunt autographs and trade pins with the most hard-core Disney fans, but we skip the rides. Just wandering the lanes, looking at the shops and statues, flowers and settings, is enough for us, and when we run across a character like Minnie Mouse we're thrilled.
This was the year for Minnie. Queen Teen has developed a passion for all things Minnie, in fact, I think it's almost equal to her love for Cinderella. We spotted Minnie three times and posed with her twice, and in every shop Queen Teen hunted for the Minnie Mouse dolls. The other highlight for Queen Teen was meeting Princess Jasmine, one of the Disney princesses she hadn't met before. And of course, she met Cinderella. I reserved a table at Ariel's Grotto where the Princesses come to your table while you eat, and it was a good thing I did, because that was the only place Cinderella appeared. If we went to D-Land and missed Cinderella, Queen Teen would be crushed. And we met Princess Tianna in New Orlean's Square, who sang songs from the Frog Princess accompanied by a New Orleans Jazz style band.
Overall, it was a good trip, except for the food poisoning. Our first night at the California Grand, I ate a salad and woke up sick as a dog. The sickness lasted the entire trip, making it even harder to care for Queen Teen on my own so far from home. I sipped tea and ate crackers while pushing her wheelchair several miles a day. Even without being sick, it was difficult taking care of her alone. She's so much bigger and heavier, as well as more wobbly. Between her size and worsening ataxia I realized taking her do Disneyland, or anywhere far away, by myself has become almost impossible. Sure, I can do it, but at a cost to my energy and sanity. Next time, Rick is coming.
While we explored the park, Queen Teen sang songs at the top of her lungs, making the people we passed smile. "This little light of mine... I'm gonna let it shine..." Seeing her that happy after so many weeks of snarling misery was worth every dime, every exertion, even worth food poisoning.
On our last day, Queen Teen announced, "I'm so lucky! I get to come to Disneyland. Not everybody gets to go, but I do. And I get to go next year too!"
Yes you do, darlin.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
When life and school crash together in a painful sort of way
We got some bad news at Stanford last week about Queen Teen's prognosis. Her hearing has deteriorated to the point where even her hearing aids aren't much help, and the audiograms over the past two years show a steady decline overall. After her audiology appointment we saw the orthopedist to take a look at her knees and he ruled against bracing. I wish I could say it was because her knees are fine and she doesn't need braces, but the reality is that bracing won't help so why put her through the trauma? Her ataxia has worsened, and odds are she won't be walking in two years anyway, so there's no point in forcing her to wear braces. She left the appointment happy that the doctor agreed she didn't need to wear braces ("I told you!"). She didn't hear the whole conversation. I swallowed my tears, put on a smile, drove us the three hours home, then went out on the back deck with a big bottle of wine and drank more than half in one sitting. Sometimes you just have to get drunk.
There was no time to grieve. I had school and papers and midterms and a book to publish, meetings with service providers and Queen Teen's teacher. By Friday I was still sad, but ready for class, and while I drove to San Francisco I thought about Queen Teen's need for alternative communication and probably a power chair. I needed to lift weights and learn ASL even faster than I'd anticipated. It would be okay. We'd get through it somehow, just the way we always do: with love, faith in each other, and a lot of gallows humor.
The weekend's classes were focused on working with people with multiple disabilities; people who use canes and walkers and wheelchairs. My teacher began discussing the process that families go through when a child's disability requires a power chair. It's hard to watch your child go from walking to needing a chair. Parents grieve, and children grieve for the freedom they lost. There's also a lot of anger...
Are you frickin kidding me? This week, of all weeks, is the week we discuss children with degenerative conditions and how they need to be able to use a chair? I wanted to spring up and run from the room, but I didn't want to create a spectacle. Instead I focused on breathing, trying not to cry, trying not to show how unbelievably impossible this situation was. Was this some kind of cosmic joke? Was the universe or God or whoever you want to believe in out to get me? The reason my whole world was unraveling was the class topic? Then I felt the edge of hysteria, like I would start laughing so loudly I would scare everyone, right before falling on the floor and disappearing. It was just too surreal and painfully ridiculous.
I didn't fall apart. I got through the rest of the day and made it back to the security of my home in one piece. But I'm dreading next week's class. Why? Because the topic is Deaf-Blindness.
Yeah, I kind of already know that one too.
There was no time to grieve. I had school and papers and midterms and a book to publish, meetings with service providers and Queen Teen's teacher. By Friday I was still sad, but ready for class, and while I drove to San Francisco I thought about Queen Teen's need for alternative communication and probably a power chair. I needed to lift weights and learn ASL even faster than I'd anticipated. It would be okay. We'd get through it somehow, just the way we always do: with love, faith in each other, and a lot of gallows humor.
The weekend's classes were focused on working with people with multiple disabilities; people who use canes and walkers and wheelchairs. My teacher began discussing the process that families go through when a child's disability requires a power chair. It's hard to watch your child go from walking to needing a chair. Parents grieve, and children grieve for the freedom they lost. There's also a lot of anger...
Are you frickin kidding me? This week, of all weeks, is the week we discuss children with degenerative conditions and how they need to be able to use a chair? I wanted to spring up and run from the room, but I didn't want to create a spectacle. Instead I focused on breathing, trying not to cry, trying not to show how unbelievably impossible this situation was. Was this some kind of cosmic joke? Was the universe or God or whoever you want to believe in out to get me? The reason my whole world was unraveling was the class topic? Then I felt the edge of hysteria, like I would start laughing so loudly I would scare everyone, right before falling on the floor and disappearing. It was just too surreal and painfully ridiculous.
I didn't fall apart. I got through the rest of the day and made it back to the security of my home in one piece. But I'm dreading next week's class. Why? Because the topic is Deaf-Blindness.
Yeah, I kind of already know that one too.
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