According to my Dr....

My blackouts last weekend were flukey.

I thought perhaps that extreme sinus pressure + altitudinous travel could = a pseudo-aneurysm.

But...Dr. A thinks not.

Her checklist of questions, after I explained pretty much what I said on here:

• Have you had migraines before? Yes
• Was the headache similar? Not at all - very fleeting pain and nowhere near crippling
• Did you do the Valsalva maneuver? Yes - it didn't change anything
• Was the blackness in one eye or both? Both - it was creepy
• What had you eaten immediately preceding the blackouts? Nothing - it was at first rising in the morning
• How's the sinus pressure now? Well, just allergies and postnasal drip, but not stuffy and miserable like I was

To which she said, "Well, it's not migraines, and the lack of reaction to the Valsalva maneuver tells me it wasn't a BP issue - especially when it happened again while you were standing up... The blackness in both eyes tells me it wasn't a stroke or anything neuro. Most likely it was a result of low blood sugar at waking combined with being so sick."

Then she says, "If it happens at all in the next two months, you need to come in."

Ok, doc, will do.

Back from the Dead

So, on Friday, I got into the office, had said few more words than, "Good morning," when the Boss said, "Go home - you're sick!" I knew that I was sick, but I'd been out on Wednesday, and there was work to do - was she sure?? Yes, she was. Home I went and into bed, with the alarm set so that I wouldn't miss getting LMNOB to her OT appt that afternoon.

Without a lot of any forewarning, Charlie Brown decided he wanted to help his father put in a sprinkler system in the backyard for Memorial Weekend, since it was 20 years overdue. So, a venture to the hometown was born.

In a haze of sinus pressure, I sent my mom an e-mail saying we'd be there and for her to call me if she wanted to get in touch. I had no idea of her plans, and really didn't know how I was going to fare with this crappy cold. (Sidenote: LMNOB has picked up my habitual usage of crappy as an adjective. Must. Stop.. NOW!) Besides, new classes were starting on Tuesday and I needed to get started on the reading.

Go to OT. BT the OT kind of round-about-ly says she wishes I'd have canceled, in that I-know-it's-important-to-you-but-how-good-is-it-if-I-get-sick? kind of way. I kept myself covered and across the room from them as much as possible, while LMNOB picked out the heaviest medicine ball (a sign of being "truly sensory" as BT the OT put it) for BT the OT to roll over and around LMNOB's body and joints, respectively. LMNOB loved this. And truth be told, I think I would have too, as much as I like deep tissue massage, I think that would have been totally up my alley.

Go home, pack. Hack a lung up - gag as a result (I have never been able to gracefully hock a loogie - I mean seriously, like anyone can do that with grace - errr...I've never been able to hock a loogie with ease, all nonchalant and its-a-fact-of-life-we-all-have-snot like) - and whoah, nelly, up comes the chuck. Yum.

Hit the road, Jack.

Had the weirdest phenomenon occur, in that every time I closed my eyes, I saw the screen from Bejeweled 2. Yeah, I'd put some serious time in on that game the past two weeks - I am sufficiently and successfully weaned now. Anyway, the Bejeweled backdrop of my eyelids was counterproductive in my aim to sleep it off. That and the fact that as we crested hills and plunged into valleys, my ears would not equalize the pressures. I think it was related to the fact that every cavity in my head was plum full of mucous.

Checked in with the IL's. Hit the sack, never to wake again all weekend. Save for the 6am trip to the potty that left me gripping the toilet seat with panic as the room was painted black. I used to faint all the time as a teen when I had way-low blood pressure...this was different. A blackout, without the loss of consciousness, the threat of which was this strange wave-like roaring in my ears. Tried to do the Valsalva manuever to bring my BP up and that did nothing but pop my ears beyond the point of comfort. Sit. Eventually the scenery of the bathroom comes back before me.

Ok, wipe, wash hands, walk into the kitchen, and WOW! There goes the room again! It felt like the room was spinning and as I grabbed a chair to stabilize myself, I opened and shut my eyes several times to try and make the room appear again - each time as I opened my eyes, it was as solid black as if I'd had my eyes clenched shut. Oh, Holy Hell, I thought, as I felt pain beginning to spill into my temples, I am going to die of an aneurysm, in Craig of all places, at the ripe age of 28. This was scary. More scary was the length of this episode; I probably stood at the chair for 5 or more minutes waiting for my sight and strength to be restored.

Tick...tock...tick...tock. The daylight broke through the darkness before my eyes, and I cautiously returned to bed...where I stayed most of the weekend.

Charlie Brown checked the e-mail over the weekend to make sure that we didn't overlook my mom - but we never heard from her. This was ok, as I was such a big ball of snotty-goodness. Thankfully, it was a low-key weekend and I got plenty of rest and recuperation.

Yesterday as we came home, I was feeling much better - sinuses completely dried out and clear.

Today I resumed work in the office, and my nasalness is back - it's got to be allergen related. I saw that my mom had e-mailed yesterday, saying that she hadn't gotten the Friday message and that she was bummed. ::sigh:: Me too...but again, that health factor was severely lacking, and the visit wouldn't have been much fun.

I want a typo like this in my mortgage papers

Remember that "$3,000" scholarship I received??

In confirming everything - whoops! Turns out, "$3,000" was a typo.

It's more like "$650."

How one is supposed to have gotten $650 from $3,000 is beyond me - I mean if it was like $300 and $3,000 then ok, that's a typo! I'd get that...but these don't even have the same numbers!!!

Ok, vent over.

In the end, $650 of gift money is still better than $0 of gift money - and that is not too shabby

Lather Linse RINSE and Repeat

She forgot again.

This time I am home - sick, and she calls, all, "I forgot LMNOB. The school never called you?"

Nope...they apparently don't memorize all 400 students' variable schedules, so they can call when there's been a deviation.

I need some grace, need some grace....because

1. For the love of Pete, does no one realize how important the comfort that LMNOB's schedule is to her?!?
2. Two words: Mama Bear

*sigh* the end of the school year is almost here...

When golden behavior is revealed as only gold-plated...

Last night, Charlie Brown and I marveled at how well LMNOB was behaving.

After school he'd taken her to Home Depot, as there is a massive yard work project looming ahead, and she was "golden."

She ate phenomenally well.

Just as we were noticing how great her evening was going, we decided to go 'round the table with bests and worsts of the day.

LMNOB's best = "There was NONE good things...." Then, before we could question the dissonance between her sunny disposition and a horrible day, she blurted, "Mama-I-got-curbed-because-I-hit-C-in-the-stomach-but-I-didn't-mean-to-not-that-hard-at-least-because-we-were-play-fighting-and-it-was-a-game!"

This was certainly a first. Getting "curbed" means that at recess the child must sit on the curb of the sidewalk, all time out and everything, but not quite as detached as "detention" because all the while, s/he gets to see what s/he missed out on with his/her poor choice as their classmates play gleefully around him/her. I've seen it on the days that I am at the school - and it seems to be pretty effective.

I was torn between three equally strong and valid emotions:

1. You did WHAT?!?! Hitting is NEVER ok!;
2. Oh you poor thing, let me assuage your people-pleaser guilt, and;
3. Oh no. LMNOB's sensory issues have now landed on the playground, Houston.

And while the number 2 option grew stronger as LMNOB continued, "And later all the kids eating hot lunch, except L, called me 'Baby-Bully LMNOB' and it really hurt my feelings, Mama!" I mentally countered with, Well, wouldn't you feel like saying something if someone beat on you?

ME: "So....let's talk about this, ok? You were playing a game with M and C and all the other BOYS that involved play fighting, right?"

LMNOB: nods.

ME: "And you hit C in the stomach? Really hard?"

LMNOB, teary-eyed: "Yes, but Ididn'tmeantoo!"

ME: "It's ok - I get that, but let's look at it this way...if someone runs a red light, on accident, but it hurts someone else, the person who runs the redlight is responsible for making it better - paying for the doctor, damage to the car, etc - understand?"

LMNOB: nods.

ME: "So here you are, and C has a hurt stomach, and even though you didn't mean to, you are the one who made it hurt - and C's feelings are hurt because you are his friend and friends don't hurt each other - but you did, and so he's confused. Ms. S did the right thing by curbing you, because it gave you time to think about what you did, and it also made C feel like his feelings are important too...Now as for the name calling, it's just what people think, because they don't know that it was an accident. Give it a little bit of time, and it will be all better - ok? You're just kids and you all make mistakes - one little thing like this does not mean someone will be known as "the bully" until you graduate highschool -ok?"

LMNOB: "Ok Mama."

ME: "Another thing and then we'll drop it - I'm really glad that you told me about this."

Then, like I said, I dropped it. Odd that her backpack didn't have a note from Ms. S about this.

Or so I thought...

This morning, as I dropped LMNOB off to school, Ms. S made a point to ask me if I'd gotten the note.

Smile...and a slight squeeze to LMNOB's shoulder, "Well, she told us about it at dinner, but funny thing - the note didn't make its way to us...hmmm. LMNOB - do you have any idea where it might be?"

LMNOB mumbles no.

She is so busted!

Turns out, she was curbed for 2 recesses, and after LMNOB sat down, Ms. S told me that she'd been as shocked as I'd been, since it was definitely a first. She then discretely mouthed, "She hit him REALLY hard, too." She thought that with "all that we had going on" (i.e. SID) I would want to know. Uhh, yeah, that's a slight understatement.

Ater dropping her off, I came home to LMNOB's room to look at a stack of papers. Right on top were papers, very obviously from yesterday - worksheets, a note from the cafeteria saying we needed a new lunch ticket, but curiously, no note from Ms. S. Hmmmmmmmmmm....

We are going to have a talk tonight about lies of ommission versus telling the "whole" truth.

"She is SUCH a sensory kid..."

BT the OT said this of LMNOB at the end of our second session (Which was on May 4th - I'm really good at keeping things current, no?) when I handed her LMNOB's jacket.

It was plum full of rocks in both pockets - an utterly independent and altogether ingenious move on the part of LMNOB to self medicate her less than full-throttle proprioceptive sensations. Her way of securing weight to her body so that she would be more aware of its position in her environment. WAY more cool factor than a weighted vest, too. And, uhm, FREE.

This statement of BT the OT, made after she'd had time to review the paperwork mounds I'd created for LMNOB, made it much more real for me than the entire first visit had- which left me feeling like I was hanging on an "Is she... or isn't she...." cliff.

This means...

My child has special needs.

There...I said it.

Really, it's not like being told your child has cerebral palsy, Down's Syndrome, or some other such developmental issue where the special needs are outwardly visible, grounds for being stuck in a permanent box by people close to you, strangers, and everyone in between. It's also different from her teacher calling me in to discuss her growing suspicion of a learning disability. LMNOB's sensory issues are much more subtle than that to the untrained eye (Also: in the absence of a superfit, which is not subtle at all). In this, I find some consolation; relief that all extrinsic appearances point to normalcy - whatever the heck that means anyway.

But, it also means that I have some burdens before me - those of balancing stimulation with desensitization in their respective areas, adapting/abolishing certain family practices, and convincing her network of teachers, care providers, pediatrician (oh, crap, that reminds me - I never have followed up with him!), and anyone else that is influential in her life that her special needs are real, and they need to be accommodating as much as I do for a well-rounded, happy and healthy LMNOB.
If we just ignore it because we can't see it, then we will have what has been the destructive pattern for her entire existence:

• compensate as much as she can in her environs (which is a lot - super smartie that she is)
• but carry many sensory frustrations in a day, and;
• when we all get home, the floodgates of sensory hell buckle, mercilessly
• I can't deal
• Charlie Brown can't deal
• WAY too much yelling is had, and;
• LMNOB ends up thinking: my parents, who are supposed to love me unconditionally (and DO!), can't stand to be with me, and why oh why do I ALWAYS screw it up - what is wrong with ME?

I can't let that last one happen on my watch - ya know? Especially because that kind of thinking can open up anxiety, depression, and the noxious can of all those other [quality of] life-threatening behavioral-emotional worms. Better to keep the lid on those wrigglers by knowing that yes, she is "different" (aren't we all?), but here's how to cope with those differences, and life goes on all happy and rosey-posey. FUNctional too. Fun for her, functional for me.
In the meantime, our 3rd session with BT the OT was had last Friday. It would have been the 4th, but we had a scheduling miscommunication last Friday, which ended up conflicting with my getaway with Charlie Brown, so it was canceled.
LMNOB sat on an exercise/therapy ball while BT the OT manipulated it such that LMNOB had to work REALLY hard to keep her balance. Next she swung in the "bucket swing," the prospect of which had an effect on LMNOB's countenance comparable to that of a junkie learning the next hit was mere moments away- like just knowing actually made her high. She loves that thing.
Her reaction was another thing that BT the OT commented on. She spoke of how she'd just gotten done with an eval for a kiddo whose pediatrician had already stuffed him in the SID box, and after BT the OT had spent some time with the kiddo, she was like, "Eh, not so much. Sorry." With LMNOB, she said, it's pretty clear to her. All I know, is she's got a pretty damn good read on skeptical ole me: This lady needs lots of reinforcement and affirmations. Or maybe, it just comes with the territory of the whole appearance of normalcy thing?
At home, some of the things we're doing lots of:

• bear hugs
• wheelbarrow walking
• mini-trampoline time
• crab walking
• scalp massage/pressure before grooming
• thick pudding/shakes to be sucked thru a straw (for the oral stimulation she needs)
• picture scheduling
• reminders before transitions
• hanging from bars - like pull-ups (hahaha - someday)
• push-ups (both wall and on the ground)
• resistance work with a therapy/exercise band
• thera-putty (think stiff like modeling clay)
• our version of a weighted lap pad for sitting at school/dinner (our version is a pillow case filled with rice that is bound shut - MUCH cheaper and works with heat/cold too)
• telling LMNOB to use the potty versus asking if she has to go

Mornings are hardest. The transitions are so many (bed-dress-breakfast-grooming-activities-out the door for school) and in such limited time (no one is a morning person at Casa del Meyer) that it's tough - but doable. I usually feel like I've been thru boot camp, as the drill sargeant, by the time I get to work - but at least in the past 4 weeks, we haven't had the horribly crazy separation sagas that were manifest most of the year.

The superfits...well, we haven't had one for 3-4 weeks, which means we are due a big one any day. We've had lots of fits that are frequent and still quite intense, but do not have the prolonged duration that we were experiencing before. I'll take progress where I can get it, eh?

Add to all of this that Punkinhead has had a freakish growth spurt in the past 4 weeks (Mom - the pants you bought him for Easter - BARELY fit now!!!) and he's achey and whiney and having horrible, rotten, no good days because of it, and life has been full lately.

Very, very full.

Thank God for His comfort and peace through it all. Who knows where I'd be without it.

Since when do starving people refuse food?

I'm just curious, because this morning LMNOB said she was utterly and completely hungry - enough so to use the S word.

Save the drama for your mama, girlie, you ain't starvin'. Oh wait, I am the mama? Right, well lay the whack job hystrionics on me then.

I did a verbal inventory for her - "Well, we have grains galore; waffles, mini-pancakes, cereal, or toast. We also have yogurt."

And then the most curious statement escaped my starving daughter's mouth: "I don't want any of that."

I told her how fabulous I thought it was that here she was starving and yet she still felt as if she had the ability to magically make her preferred food of the day arrive. Also how a dramatic fit somehow translated that she would get a donut at the Safeway by her school. Mmmm - no!

Then, "What you don't seem to understand m'dear, is that you are the child and I am the parent. We have all this great food here and if you choose not to eat one of the aforementioned options, ultimately you are choosing to go hungry. You have 10 minutes."

She still didn't make a choice, so I poured her a bowl of cereal, set it on the table and went back upstairs to get Punkinhead dressed. Came down, as it was time to leave, and the stubborn little grunt was sitting on the couch, with nary a bite having been taken from her cereal.

"All right, it's time for school. Let's go."

"But Mommy, I'm S.T.A.R.V.I.N.G!"

"And whose fault is that?"

What she doesn't know is that it is extremely difficult to be all cavalier and following-through on this particular topic. Or maybe she does and was hoping all along that I would cave?

Ms. S would get it when I told her about it. LMNOB's lunch is obscenely early (10:30 - b/c it is a K-8 school and well, they only have so much room to feed the kids in and a bunch to get fed), and she'd be fine.

Except...I remembered as we pulled up, there was a sub today. So as we got to the classroom, I pulled the older-looking-so-hopefully-she-was-raised-this-way sub aside and told her, "LMNOB may complain of being hungry. She refused to eat anything we had at home this morning, and I refused to let her win by buying her breakfast."

She peered over her glasses at me, all concern and care, for her, and says, "Well, we'll just have to do then." LMNOB looked at me with sullen eyes that said, "I can not believe you. You are a mean mommy."

I then tilted my head with a smile and eyes that replied, "Yep, and I'd be an even meaner mother if I let you get away with crap like that for the rest of your life. Love you!"

Cel-A-bration Time C'mon!

So.........I wrote a ton of scholarship essays this spring.

The big'uns, from my school and the Government Finance Officers Association, responded with something to the tune of,

Dear Ms. Meyer:
You're great.
But not that great.
Sorry, better luck next time.
Signed,
The Rejectors

Which was ok. I mean, it's not like I had something and their rejection took it away from me. Nah, I came out of it with as much as I had going into it: Absolutely Nothing! (save for a buttload of student loans)

I still hadn't heard back from one source - but didn't really plan on hearing from them. It's a memorial fund and two of the benefactors attend my church, so any students from my church and some in the Denver area are eligible to apply. In filling out the application, it was very catered to a high-schooler who was going away to university for the first time - high school GPA, activities, and the like. I communicated with them and got the A-ok to proceed and make my case clearly. But I didn't feel like I'd done it very well - it didn't feel "official" enough.

Tonight I opened the mail, and saw a letter from the committee. I braced myself for another, "You didn't really fit our mold, but everyone who applied was a winner in their own right," kind of let down. Opened the letter, unfolded the trifold, and saw: "Congratulations!" straight away. Read further, and the amount (I'd forgotten) is for $3,000!

Between this scholarship and next year's tuition reimbursement from work, I will have virtually no loan debt for Fall07-Spring08, and that is a tremendous blessing.

So...did I ever tell you that I am a giant nerd?

B/c I am.

Case in point.....

Class has been done for me for just over 2 weeks.

In 2 more weeks I will begin my summer classes.

Which means, "Wheeeeeeeeeeeee, playtime," right?

Nah...it means, I want my hectic pace back and I want it now.

The Boss puts it ever so kindly when she says, "You just seek a lot of intellectual stimulation."

What she means is, "Get over the fact that everyone is stupid compared to you...NERD!"

Hodge Podgery

*****
So...today, I was in a bathroom stall seriously glad for the fact that I am not a conspiracy theorist who is constantly fearful that big brother is watching. Reason being? I spent nearly 5 MINUTES wrestling with the damn cellophane wrapper on an OB tampon, and couldn't for the life of me get it to open. So you can understand the gratitude that I silently felt when I realized that I could be under the delusion that everything I do is seen and heard and that this would be grounds for serious mental anguish were I to actually be in the paranoid schizophrenic camp. It's the small things sometimes, I tell ya.

******
Then...at LMNOB's school, two things of note:
First, Ms. S marveled at how well LMNOB is doing recently. Particularly in regards to separating from me in the mornings. I KNOW!!! She basically has been kicking me to the curb every morning, instead of having to be pried off of me with the jaws of life. A miraculous improvement, among others.

Second, M tells LMNOB loudly, "You're the smartest girl I ever met!" and it's all because she made the distinction that "next recess" was actually going to be tomorrow as they were planning just how they were going to play together next. All the other girls are so obviously NOT detail oriented, and you most certainly ARE, LMNOB - to the point of obsession. I dunno...it just cracked me up, the level of awe that was genuinely in his voice. LMNOB, you might consider this in your future with M - men who are in touch with their feelings are great.

********
How many ADHD kids to change a light bulb? Hey, where's my bike?
(thanks Ms. S)

The Blame Game

Good night...does no one take responsibility for themselves anymore?

I'm really disappointed.

So - I offer this cathartic letter, filled with things I would never actually say to the people who really could stand to hear them...for random people who care to read about my work, and who are probably not at all my intended audience:

If you are the director of a non-profit agency and you were to write a grant...and;

If you knew in advance what the scoring criteria for said grant was...and;

If you knew that the pool of applicants and their requests MORE THAN DOUBLED the funds available to award... (Why yes, I do design and write that newsletter - pretty huh?)

Then chances are, you've considered the possibility of receiving a.) far less than your requested amount, or b.) not receiving funds at all. Particularly if you do not clearly impress the scoring Commissioners that your agency is a top performer in a heavily weighted score criterion, and fall into the bottom 25% scores .

Which, going back to point number two, you had plenty of time and knowledge to strategically craft and market your request such that it fit the goals of said grant program.

There is, however, more probability in our area that you had your head completely buried in the sand. In which case, you probably got it abruptly pulled out this week. Sorry 'bout that.

It is also highly likely that, despite having been given a score report with high score, low score, median and average scores, YOUR total score, as well as your average score in each category so that you could see just where you fell, you who had your heads buried would write letters, crossing the line between advocating your cause to just plain whining, filled with nonsensical rhetoric - "The City obviously doesn't support x-type of programs....our funding (which is only promised/allocated at a fixed amount one year at a time and varies from year to year) was cut..." etc. instead of taking the feedback as it was meant to be: constructive criticism and help
towards a stronger application next year.

I'm sorry - the funding "cut" terminology doesn't work for me when the amount is not a given from year to year. If you had been promised $4,000 for 2006-2007, and halfway thru the year we said, "Nah, $3,000 ought to do you," then THAT would be a "cut."

I'm not completely blinded by tunnel vision - I know that you're hearing the same kind of bad news from other funding sources, and I hate that too. But...that is precisely why it is no longer ok to rely on the warm fuzzies that your agency's work creates as a means of raising funds. Mediocrity in agency development cannot continue, lest your organization go belly up in times such as these. My employer and I are trying to help you gauge just where you're coming up short. And I know that other funders do NOT provide this sort of feedback - so some recognition would be nice, instead of the "I'm so shocked, hurt and basically clueless" routine.

In the meantime...your tunnel vision re: your agency being the only one, the ease (or complete lack thereof) in making the funding decisions, and participation in the blame game certainly don't help your case. Please, kindly pull your head out. It may just save your livelihood and your cause. And prevent you from further sounding like an idiot whiner.

Seriously folks...I don't get it. I don't get how you couldn't have known the odds - when the Boss and I did everything in our power to CLEARLY let people know the facts before AND after.

Also...after having gotten some of these "How dare you..." letters, I wonder...are these organizations this audacious with other funders - or, because we are small potatoes and strive to be user-friendly, do they just think they can be this way with us?

Talk about kicking a gift-horse in the mouth - potential or realized.