I Wanna…Blog Some

This is going to be a little like playing telephone.  Remember that game?  The first person tells the second person that yellow dogs make good pets.  And the second person is a little deaf in one ear and tells the third person that yellow smog makes good hats.  And the third person stopped at a bar on the way to playing telephone and told the fourth person that fellows hog good crack.  And by the 25th person it ends up a message about how asshats have yellow gnats. 

So, here it goes:

Someone at the kids’ hospital finally talked to my husband about the "report" written regarding my kid’s EEG.  That person read the report to my husband and he told me and this is what I think I heard:

"No epileptic forms.  EEG normal."

I don’t know exactly what it means by forms, but doesn’t it sound like great news?

The doctor is on vacation all week!  So, when the hell do we get to hear if my kid’s brain is all cattywampus and Abby Normal (name the movie that was in) or if it’s just messed up like a normal nearly 11 year old’s should be?  I am not a patient person.  I wanted the ultrasound to tell me if my kids were boy babies or girl babies.  I used to gently peel open presents found under colorfully decorated dead evergreen trees to find out what was in them and then re-wrap them so no one was the wiser…I DON’T LIKE WAITING. 

Sure, it has given me some more time to be fine with whatever news we get.  But I am ready to get the news and move on with whatever it means.  It either means nothing or it means less meds.  It may mean less meds regardless of what is going on because maybe fewer meds would still work even if there is some seizure activity going on.  I’m tempted to call the boy’s regular pediatrician to see if he’ll tell us what he sees.  We do see the boy’s neurosurgeon next Friday….only 9 days away.  Since the boy’s surgery that doctors only job is telling us what the blurring things are in the MRI pictures.  Maybe he can also read squiggly lines on an EEG. 

Ugh.

Oh, do you like the word cattywampus?  I heard it for the first time the other day at United Blood Services when one of the bloodletters was trying to figure out where the hell my vein was to stab me and suck my blood out.  The things I do to keep my Karma good!

• Today I learned a new word that I LOVE!  Asshat.  I also love www.urbandictionary.com because there’s visual aids in case you have trouble "seeing" what an asshat is.
• Still haven’t heard from the doctor who can interprept the EEG.  But, he’s not an asshat, just a really busy doctor. 
• I might get to be fast tracked to becoming a new religion!  And won’t that doubly piss off my friend that was pissed off that I became ordained in about 5 minutes while it took her months of taking a class. 
• I am the email parent for my kid’s kindergarten teacher and his name is Mr. Heinz.  I was thinking of naming the email updates I send out, "Catch up with Mr. Heinz."  Do you think he’ll like that?
• I can’t get my kids to clean their rooms.  Oh, and I can’t get motivated to clean mine.  Think there’s a connection?
• I should be cooking dinner right now and I’m sitting on my couch thinking of miscellaneous shit to stay out of my kitchen. 

I met my boy and his dad at the kid hospital yesterday.  I walked in, asked to be taken back to the room, and got and gave attitude.  When I asked the woman at the desk how to find my son she was a little snippy about how if the boy was already asleep for the EEG I couldn’t go back.  WHAT?  I’m his mother!  I had no idea that the chances of the kid being asleep already were so slim so I had to give her The Look while I pretty much declared that I WOULD be going back to be with MY KID.  All the attitude was unnecessary because very quickly I was greeted by Grandma T who hugged me and told me to follow her to get to my boy (HA!  Take THAT you woman at the desk who tried to keep me from MY KID). 

You see, Grandma T is a woman that works in the EEG department of this normally amazing hospital who is the mother of a woman that my husband dated when he was much younger.  We call her Grandma Terry because had the thing worked out between my hubby and her daughter then she would have the grandma to his three wonderful children.  Ok, I know that the kids wouldn’t be the same, but it’s still fun to joke about. 

So, anyway…when I walked into the room there was the boy having all these wires glued to scalp and his eyes were blood shot from the very little sleep he had gotten the night before.  Poor kid kept trying to fall asleep and he couldn’t until he was wired up and did a few other things to test his noggin.  There was the strobe lights flashing in front of his eyes.  Then there was the fake hyperventilation thing…blowing into pinwheel for three straight minutes.  And then he was able to go to sleep.  For 15 whole minutes. 

So, this is what we know from all of that:  Nothing. 

We tried to read the faces of the two women that were doing the testing.  One was a woman who had helped with the kid’s EEGs while he was in the hospital.  She was super cool and has always been great to our kid.  We thought we could read her face and know if it was good or bad news.  But she’s good.  Real good.  We got nothing from her face.  We noticed that sometimes the other woman would type things into the computer and we’d think there must be something to type about.  And what about it onlly being 15 minutes?  Why so short?  We knew it wouldn’t take long, but that seems too short.  Was it because they got all they needed in 15 minutes because there was something? 

Who knows.  We just have to wait for the doctor to get the results and let us know.  That shouldn’t take too long.  Probably tomorrow.  Maybe Monday.  If the very busy doctor is very busy then later.  But I WANNA KNOW NOW.  Until then everything that was still is and everything that wasn’t still isn’t.     

Bob said so.  Bob said that everythings gonna be alright–not just everything, but every little thing.  And I’m going to believe him today.  And tomorrow.  And if it doesn’t turn out that everything is going to be alright I am going to need to sit down for a minute or two.  Most likely it will feel like a punch to the gut.  But I’ve been punched in the gut and things turned around.  We just dealt with the new information.  Always made easier by the reason for this sudden small panic. 

So, what the hell am I talking about?  Tomorrow my boy has an appointment for an EEG.  It’s a sleep deprived EEG because sleep deprivation can increase seizure activity.  We are going to, possibly, find out if he really is seizure free or if his medications are just doing their job.  The "possibly" part is because it’s about 1 1/2 hours long and so it’s nearly a random sample of what the hell the kid’s brain does except that keeping him up all night should make it a little less random. 

I really want the seizures to be over.  I really want the seizures to be over.  I really want the seizures to be over.  I want Bob Marley to know what he’s talking about.  But what if there is still seizure activity.  Then Bob Marley will just have to work a little harder.  I will have to be reminded that nothing has really changed except that I have more knoweldge. 

My boy won’t change no matter what we are told by the EEG.  My boy will still be doing what he’s doing today.  Taking anti-seizure meds three times a day without complaining.  Still trying to convince me that he doesn’t need to shower more than twice a year.  Fighting with his sisters.  Being polite…except when he’s not.  Driving me crazy.  Making me proud.  All the same.  He will just be doing all the same stuff with me knowing that maybe it will always be this way.  Part great and part worrying about his future. 

My boy will most likely take it all in stride.  Just like he has from the very begining.  It’s all just the way it is for him.  I’ve never seen him question any of it.  He just acts like everything is alright.  Every little thing is alright.  He may be more convincing than Bob, but I’ll hear it from anyone that wants to say it. 

Oh, we did get the results of the last thing the boy did…the MRI.  Everything was alright!

Hello…you have reached my motherfucking phone that is fucking missing.  Until I find my motherfucking phone or get a fucking replacement you will have to reach me at my spoiled son’s cell phone.  Please try to wish the fucking phone back to me because I don’t want to pay the motherfucking deductible and I’m tired of hearing my son whine about when will he get his damned phone back.  Don’t bother leaving a fucking message… 

This is The Boy and you have reached my cell phone for emergency use only.  If you are trying to reach my mom you can call her on her cell phone again…all the wishing brought it back to her.  Thank goodness.  Her phone number is XXX-XXX-XXXX.  If you are calling me…I’m probably in school…duh…and can’t answer the phone.  If this is M——- B. or M—–, can you call me right back?

Hello…my cell phone is back safely in my possession.  All the wishing it back to me must have worked.  I can’t come to the phone right now because I am currently enjoying some quality time with my phone…probably watching Alexander Graham Bell & The Astonishing Telephone on The History Channel.  Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can…Oh, and M——- B and M—–, please don’t call my son’s phone looking for me until after I remove the pictures of our cleavage that show up when you call that are still on the phone from when it was mine!