So last week on Thursday, after a month of waiting, I finally called my doc's office to ask if they had the results of my A1C and my rheumatoid arthritis panel. The receptionist passed me to the nurse, who put me on hold and then came back to tell me the A1C was fine, at 5.8, but the RA panel wasn't back yet. I expressed my concern that while the A1C might be in the normal range, my blood sugars were not in the normal range when I was testing several times a day, and that had me a little worried. The nurse assured me that the A1C was fine and the doc wasn't worried. Great. BUT I AM.
Friday, another nurse, same office, called me back to give me the RA panel results. Apparently they got into the lab system to get the results. Surprise...no RA. Surprise...the markers for lupus are high. Great, always wanted to be a wolf. ;) Oh...not that kind of lupus. Also, the doctor wants me to cut back on carbs, add more protein, and watch my blood sugars because the 5.8 was on the higher end of normal. I seem to recall hearing that somewhere before... ;) Nurse leaves me with the promise to make an appt with a rheumatologist (which, incidentally, I requested at the December appointment based on my "imaginary" fibromyalgia).
This week, Wednesday, I call to see if they have had any success getting this appointment, because this has been a week with some really ouchie days and I am ready for some answers. Receptionist informs me that Nurse has the file and is "working on it" for me. Great.
Friday this week, still no answer. I called the insurance company and the one (literally) good thing about the new insurance as of January 1st is that I no longer need the primary doc to make these appointments or get referrals. FABULOUS! 15 minutes later I had a rheumatologist appoint for March 9th. It is a month out, but for a specialist appointment, I considered it victory.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Love...RAD style
Today has been hard on my newest son...and his brother who shares his room. He lost his computer power cord today, and decided that meant he should "borrow" his brother's cord. This started an hour long whine fest about how he was being honest, he didn't take his brother's, etc. All the while, I was *trying* to say "I know. I get it. I'm not mad. Help me find the other cord." He had a crying, whining meltdown.
I sat in a chair in front of him, because my back was killing me and he had conveniently staged this revolt directly adjacent to our desk in our bedroom. He informed me that he did NOT want a hug, nor to sit with me. I told him that was fine, totally his choice, but did he mind if I sat because my back was sore. He took control of that moment and let me know that my sitting was fine, as long as I didn't want to hug right then. Fine by me buddy, you need to control it way worse than I do right now. I get that. So he and I talked for a bit. He left to go back to his room, I left to go downstairs to search the family minivan and miniSUV for the missing cord. Seemed like a reasonable use of my time, because I didn't care WHO found the cord, only that equilibrium was restored so the sons x2 could get back to being buddies, not fighting.
Fast forward about ten minutes, and my son came out to the minivan where I was working. His goal? To see if I had found the cord and to spend some time attached to my hip. Praise God. I know that he *needs* this time with Mom. I had invited him to help, but he wasn't ready until then. He stayed and chatted, looked under a few seats, gleefully accepted the math workbook I had found of his in the hatchback (he LOVES math...don't ask, I don't know), then went back inside. When he left me, he was a happy go lucky guy headed for his room to use the math workbook.
Fast forward again...ten minutes tops. Super Daddy exited the house and proclaimed that he didn't know what to do with the boys today! After a brief summary from my normally very patient spouse, I learned that the son who had left me full of grins had then immediately gone upstairs to the room he shares with the other son, walked up to other son, then proceeded to punch him! Needless to say, other son did not receive this with joy. In fact, other son-who is nearly twice his brother's size and weight, decided that punching him back was a fabulous idea. *SIGH* There is a hearty "no hitting" rule in our house. Super Daddy further informed me that the instigating son had locked himself in the bathroom to throw up. Okay, he locked himself in the bathroom to have a dramatic moment, but none the less, the hitting and hitting back was not acceptable behavior and needed to be addressed. While the instigator son was still in the bathroom, my other son came outside to me. We had a hearty discussion about not hitting, about Jesus commanding us to turn the other cheek, and about how hard the transition of his brother back into our home has been for everyone. He drove his remote control car around the immediate area for about ten minutes, then he also returned to the house. I finished throwing out the copious amount of accumulated trash and returned to the house. Nope, I never did find the power cord. I suspect Grandma's van or house, but we will have to search that later.
I went upstairs and began straightening up. Remember that twenty or so minutes before, my attachment challenged son informed me he did not want to hug or sit together? While I was doing some cleaning/straightening in the kids' bathroom, this same child and the aforementioned punching victim are playing with the remote control car in the hallway. Pretty soon, I see a small head peek in the bathroom, all smiles. The same son who did not want me to initiate hugs and snuggles earlier came in and asked me, "Can I give you a big, very nice hug Mom?" Absolutely you may kiddo! Praise God, you are understanding that it is okay to ask for hugs and to accept them when YOU are ready. Yes, please give me a hug! He pulled back and gave me a big smile. He said, "Did you hear me call you Mom?" Yes kiddo, I did. I heard you say Mom instead of my name. I heard it and it made me smile all the way from my hair to my toenails. :D "I love you Mom. I like to say I love you." OH sweet boy, I like to say it too.
So many parents, me included, hear "I love you" given freely every day from their children and never think a thing about it. Of course children love their parents. Of course parents love their children. But for kids with reactive attachment disorder or RAD spectrum, that love is scarier than anything they can imagine, because if they love you, you could hurt them too. You could choose to leave them, choose not to take care of them, choose to reject them. Maybe if they act awful enough, or ignore you long enough, you will just go away. They don't want you to go, but it would be familiar and less scary that way.
Fear...that was the other part of that conversation where he didn't want to hug me. He told me hugging me was scary. He told me getting our last name was scary. He apologized an inordinately, disproportionately large amount of times for losing the power cord. Me not getting mad was scary. His brother getting mad was scary. He did not have a CLUE what do with that fear, so he obsessed over the missing cord and how he was going to have to work to buy a new one. So for him to move past being afraid of all of those things, which boils down to being afraid to attach, to telling me he loved me, hugging me, and MEANING IT-not saying it as a reflex answer-is powerful and amazing.
Our son is healing...slowly, day by day, but he is healing, attaching, and growing. He is finding that his siblings and his parents love him, no matter whether he is having a great day or a lousy one, regardless of how loving he is or isn't, not because we are so great, but because God is great, good, and just and He lives through us. Sure, we blow it. We take over and say the wrong thing or react the wrong way, but we are forgiven and we make sure he knows he is forgiven too. Is there really any bigger blessing?
I sat in a chair in front of him, because my back was killing me and he had conveniently staged this revolt directly adjacent to our desk in our bedroom. He informed me that he did NOT want a hug, nor to sit with me. I told him that was fine, totally his choice, but did he mind if I sat because my back was sore. He took control of that moment and let me know that my sitting was fine, as long as I didn't want to hug right then. Fine by me buddy, you need to control it way worse than I do right now. I get that. So he and I talked for a bit. He left to go back to his room, I left to go downstairs to search the family minivan and miniSUV for the missing cord. Seemed like a reasonable use of my time, because I didn't care WHO found the cord, only that equilibrium was restored so the sons x2 could get back to being buddies, not fighting.
Fast forward about ten minutes, and my son came out to the minivan where I was working. His goal? To see if I had found the cord and to spend some time attached to my hip. Praise God. I know that he *needs* this time with Mom. I had invited him to help, but he wasn't ready until then. He stayed and chatted, looked under a few seats, gleefully accepted the math workbook I had found of his in the hatchback (he LOVES math...don't ask, I don't know), then went back inside. When he left me, he was a happy go lucky guy headed for his room to use the math workbook.
Fast forward again...ten minutes tops. Super Daddy exited the house and proclaimed that he didn't know what to do with the boys today! After a brief summary from my normally very patient spouse, I learned that the son who had left me full of grins had then immediately gone upstairs to the room he shares with the other son, walked up to other son, then proceeded to punch him! Needless to say, other son did not receive this with joy. In fact, other son-who is nearly twice his brother's size and weight, decided that punching him back was a fabulous idea. *SIGH* There is a hearty "no hitting" rule in our house. Super Daddy further informed me that the instigating son had locked himself in the bathroom to throw up. Okay, he locked himself in the bathroom to have a dramatic moment, but none the less, the hitting and hitting back was not acceptable behavior and needed to be addressed. While the instigator son was still in the bathroom, my other son came outside to me. We had a hearty discussion about not hitting, about Jesus commanding us to turn the other cheek, and about how hard the transition of his brother back into our home has been for everyone. He drove his remote control car around the immediate area for about ten minutes, then he also returned to the house. I finished throwing out the copious amount of accumulated trash and returned to the house. Nope, I never did find the power cord. I suspect Grandma's van or house, but we will have to search that later.
I went upstairs and began straightening up. Remember that twenty or so minutes before, my attachment challenged son informed me he did not want to hug or sit together? While I was doing some cleaning/straightening in the kids' bathroom, this same child and the aforementioned punching victim are playing with the remote control car in the hallway. Pretty soon, I see a small head peek in the bathroom, all smiles. The same son who did not want me to initiate hugs and snuggles earlier came in and asked me, "Can I give you a big, very nice hug Mom?" Absolutely you may kiddo! Praise God, you are understanding that it is okay to ask for hugs and to accept them when YOU are ready. Yes, please give me a hug! He pulled back and gave me a big smile. He said, "Did you hear me call you Mom?" Yes kiddo, I did. I heard you say Mom instead of my name. I heard it and it made me smile all the way from my hair to my toenails. :D "I love you Mom. I like to say I love you." OH sweet boy, I like to say it too.
So many parents, me included, hear "I love you" given freely every day from their children and never think a thing about it. Of course children love their parents. Of course parents love their children. But for kids with reactive attachment disorder or RAD spectrum, that love is scarier than anything they can imagine, because if they love you, you could hurt them too. You could choose to leave them, choose not to take care of them, choose to reject them. Maybe if they act awful enough, or ignore you long enough, you will just go away. They don't want you to go, but it would be familiar and less scary that way.
Fear...that was the other part of that conversation where he didn't want to hug me. He told me hugging me was scary. He told me getting our last name was scary. He apologized an inordinately, disproportionately large amount of times for losing the power cord. Me not getting mad was scary. His brother getting mad was scary. He did not have a CLUE what do with that fear, so he obsessed over the missing cord and how he was going to have to work to buy a new one. So for him to move past being afraid of all of those things, which boils down to being afraid to attach, to telling me he loved me, hugging me, and MEANING IT-not saying it as a reflex answer-is powerful and amazing.
Our son is healing...slowly, day by day, but he is healing, attaching, and growing. He is finding that his siblings and his parents love him, no matter whether he is having a great day or a lousy one, regardless of how loving he is or isn't, not because we are so great, but because God is great, good, and just and He lives through us. Sure, we blow it. We take over and say the wrong thing or react the wrong way, but we are forgiven and we make sure he knows he is forgiven too. Is there really any bigger blessing?
Thursday, February 4, 2010
One incredible story...Middle son's prayer warriors
I was, once again humbled beyond words by the God we serve. Or more to the point, He humbles me to the point I have to share the words. First, I want to live my faith the way my friends at my children's school have shown me that they live theirs. Oh what an amazing story I have to share! I have told it out loud three times today, and after the first time Annie said, "Mom, are you going to cry when you tell everyone?!" LOL! YES! I am!
The backstory: last week on Monday, Middle Son and his next oldest brother started at the charter school where younger daughter and the two youngest sons attend. It is a bilingual ASL/English school that was founded for Deaf kids and families with Deaf parents or siblings. It is very small, about 110 kids in PreK through 12th grade. It is not a "Christian School" but is a school full of strong Christians. Middle Son was NOT happy about leaving homeschooling, but Super Daddy and I both felt VERY certain this was what we were being led to do. This particular son has some extreme (I would say PTSD, or very close) anxiety about school settings based on all of the horrible issues at his last brick and mortar school here in the area (bullying was extreme, apathy on the part of the teachers and admin and bus driver to the bullying, etc), and he has never done transitions well, so we anticipated a rough start. Well, last week he had a horrid week-cried, raged, angry, sad, anxiety ridden, and just plain not happy. His teacher, our vice principal (both friends of mine), youngest daughter and youngest son's teacher from last year (also a friend), as well as Super Daddy and I, were all praying for his anxiety to lessen, for him to feel safe, and for his heart to open to the learning and love the school represents. It was a ROUGH week. He and the vp bonded. A lot. Like three times a day, a lot. She and I both were committed to riding it out, reassuring him, and doing what it took to make sure he knew he was safe there and that people truly CARED how he would feel about any given situation.
This week: Starting on Sunday evening (after some anxiety about it Sunday morning/early afternoon), his mood lightened, he was eager to go to school, was excited about learning again, and just had a weight lifted off of his shoulders. I said prayers of thanksgiving and sent him off to school Monday morning with a fear that I would be receiving a phone call by noon. Monday passed with a GREAT end of day report. Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. Today when I got to school to pick them up, I ran into Jacob's teacher in the hallway. She said, hey, I have a story to tell you about Sunday afternoon. What I heard blessed me and moved me to tears, and I think it is well worth repeating to anyone who will hear.
Sunday afternoon: Our beloved teacher and friend gathered seven friends and her 17 yr old daughter. They met at the school. When they arrived, her daughter began playing her guitar, and they all began singing and praising Jesus. They prayed for my middle son, for him to be set free of this fear and to begin to love learning the way he use to. They prayed for a spirit of joy for him, and that he would have a desire to cooperate, to learn, and a spirit of respect for himself, his teachers, and the rest of the people in his life-school and home. They marched around that school seven times, singing and praising until our friend's daughters fingers bled from playing those metal strings in the cold for so long, and yet she kept playing. They kept marching and proclaiming God's victory over the entire situation until that school had been surrounded by HIM, until they had marched seven times, until they had done what they believed God had called them there to do. Most of these people have never met me, never met my son, but all were willing to go where they could serve God to bless a child who was hurting. Ladies, THIS is the faith I want to live. THIS is the love of Jesus I want my children to see, to live, to learn. God is good always, but never have I been so blessed.
I have no idea what God is preparing us for in this family, but He has our attention. Between the missionary preacher who knocked on my door last week to pray with me when he had NO idea why God was sending him to our door and this amazing story, HE HAS MY ATTENTION. I don't know why God has sent such concrete evidence of His love for our family, but all I can say is YES LORD, I AM LISTENING...SEND ME.
I don't think He is physically sending me any where, but I think that sharing these amazing blessings as they happen is definitely what I am suppose to be doing. So this is the miracle God has performed in my house this week. It may not seem a miracle to anyone else, but to us, it truly has been one.
The backstory: last week on Monday, Middle Son and his next oldest brother started at the charter school where younger daughter and the two youngest sons attend. It is a bilingual ASL/English school that was founded for Deaf kids and families with Deaf parents or siblings. It is very small, about 110 kids in PreK through 12th grade. It is not a "Christian School" but is a school full of strong Christians. Middle Son was NOT happy about leaving homeschooling, but Super Daddy and I both felt VERY certain this was what we were being led to do. This particular son has some extreme (I would say PTSD, or very close) anxiety about school settings based on all of the horrible issues at his last brick and mortar school here in the area (bullying was extreme, apathy on the part of the teachers and admin and bus driver to the bullying, etc), and he has never done transitions well, so we anticipated a rough start. Well, last week he had a horrid week-cried, raged, angry, sad, anxiety ridden, and just plain not happy. His teacher, our vice principal (both friends of mine), youngest daughter and youngest son's teacher from last year (also a friend), as well as Super Daddy and I, were all praying for his anxiety to lessen, for him to feel safe, and for his heart to open to the learning and love the school represents. It was a ROUGH week. He and the vp bonded. A lot. Like three times a day, a lot. She and I both were committed to riding it out, reassuring him, and doing what it took to make sure he knew he was safe there and that people truly CARED how he would feel about any given situation.
This week: Starting on Sunday evening (after some anxiety about it Sunday morning/early afternoon), his mood lightened, he was eager to go to school, was excited about learning again, and just had a weight lifted off of his shoulders. I said prayers of thanksgiving and sent him off to school Monday morning with a fear that I would be receiving a phone call by noon. Monday passed with a GREAT end of day report. Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. Today when I got to school to pick them up, I ran into Jacob's teacher in the hallway. She said, hey, I have a story to tell you about Sunday afternoon. What I heard blessed me and moved me to tears, and I think it is well worth repeating to anyone who will hear.
Sunday afternoon: Our beloved teacher and friend gathered seven friends and her 17 yr old daughter. They met at the school. When they arrived, her daughter began playing her guitar, and they all began singing and praising Jesus. They prayed for my middle son, for him to be set free of this fear and to begin to love learning the way he use to. They prayed for a spirit of joy for him, and that he would have a desire to cooperate, to learn, and a spirit of respect for himself, his teachers, and the rest of the people in his life-school and home. They marched around that school seven times, singing and praising until our friend's daughters fingers bled from playing those metal strings in the cold for so long, and yet she kept playing. They kept marching and proclaiming God's victory over the entire situation until that school had been surrounded by HIM, until they had marched seven times, until they had done what they believed God had called them there to do. Most of these people have never met me, never met my son, but all were willing to go where they could serve God to bless a child who was hurting. Ladies, THIS is the faith I want to live. THIS is the love of Jesus I want my children to see, to live, to learn. God is good always, but never have I been so blessed.
I have no idea what God is preparing us for in this family, but He has our attention. Between the missionary preacher who knocked on my door last week to pray with me when he had NO idea why God was sending him to our door and this amazing story, HE HAS MY ATTENTION. I don't know why God has sent such concrete evidence of His love for our family, but all I can say is YES LORD, I AM LISTENING...SEND ME.
I don't think He is physically sending me any where, but I think that sharing these amazing blessings as they happen is definitely what I am suppose to be doing. So this is the miracle God has performed in my house this week. It may not seem a miracle to anyone else, but to us, it truly has been one.
Another month and more happenings
So much this month...always so much! Where to start? I guess with today and we can work backwards.
Today is a bad pain day, but it was a glorious day in so many ways. I had a lovely lunch with my friend Maria, whom I haven't seen in ages. We visited for over an hour, had wonderful Mexican food, and got to catch up on the comings and goings of our families over the last few months. What a blessing! After lunch, I ran to the kids' school to pick them up, and had one of the single coolest stories EVER shared with me (and it was about one of MY kiddos, our friends and teachers who are living their faith in a very real way. Ran to the other school to get eldest son, then home for a round of homework, a few showers, then off to drop the boys at church for youth group. Super Daddy and I had dinner out with Miss Beautiful younger daughter, then off to church to get the boys. Home again, more showers, more homework, and tired kids tucked in safe and sound for the night. Super Daddy is snoozing. I am up, hurting, and waiting for sleep. Until then, I am choosing to blog about the happenings in our household this month, the blessings and answers to prayer, and servants who followed God to bring me to Him when I needed him most. I have not been so humbled in a long time. WHAT A MIRACLE AND BLESSING!
I'll get to those two stories separately in a minute, or maybe tomorrow if I can get sleep tonight, but some scares, blessings, and questions from this month:
Today is a bad pain day, but it was a glorious day in so many ways. I had a lovely lunch with my friend Maria, whom I haven't seen in ages. We visited for over an hour, had wonderful Mexican food, and got to catch up on the comings and goings of our families over the last few months. What a blessing! After lunch, I ran to the kids' school to pick them up, and had one of the single coolest stories EVER shared with me (and it was about one of MY kiddos, our friends and teachers who are living their faith in a very real way. Ran to the other school to get eldest son, then home for a round of homework, a few showers, then off to drop the boys at church for youth group. Super Daddy and I had dinner out with Miss Beautiful younger daughter, then off to church to get the boys. Home again, more showers, more homework, and tired kids tucked in safe and sound for the night. Super Daddy is snoozing. I am up, hurting, and waiting for sleep. Until then, I am choosing to blog about the happenings in our household this month, the blessings and answers to prayer, and servants who followed God to bring me to Him when I needed him most. I have not been so humbled in a long time. WHAT A MIRACLE AND BLESSING!
I'll get to those two stories separately in a minute, or maybe tomorrow if I can get sleep tonight, but some scares, blessings, and questions from this month:
- my best friend of 25+ years had a scare with spots on her mammogram (God is good...it is all clear)
- my rheumatoid arthritis panel (bloodwork) that I had taken the last week of December finally came back. Turns out that they think the pain is so crummy because in addition to fibromyalgia, I may have lupus too. At least, that is the working diagnosis based on the RA panel. The markers that would indicate lupus are high, evidentally. Next step-see the Rheumatologist.
- we have had two weeks of pass the gastro-intestinal bug around
- more rain than sun and lots of cold for the last two weeks
- a missionary who ended up on my doorstep for the sole purpose of praying for my friend (see above) and I. Really. This is one of the stories I'll write about separately.
- seven women-some I've never met before-and a young lady of 17 years old living their faith in a most amazing and loving way to bring about miracle-the other story I will write about separately.
- new birth certificates, social security cards, and other bits and pieces of things arriving in the mail to prove that our adoptions from December are REAL! :)
- our friend's young adopted daughter will be entering "feeding" therapy at the local children's hospital on Monday, February 9th. Miss Smiley Face has only been home from the other side of the world for a brief time, so we are all praising that Mama will be able to attend this month or so of sleep overs at the hospital with her so her bonding and attaching is not interrupted. Also praising that Daddy is able to take FMLA to be with their adorable sons during this time.
- my friend who is dealing with her own pain and uncertainty related to her MS.
- for the doc to get me in to see the Rheumatologist asap and for us to have clarity on what is causing this pain (so we can get with a treatment plan already!)
- for the great works I see moving in my kids to continue.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
