outsourcing

I have wondered for a while about the economic impact of cutting health care costs. I mean sure it's expensive (and trust me I know) but at least the money goes into our own economy.The local hospital here may have made a healthy profit last year but I know some of the people who got bonuses. And why, I often wonder, should the high cost of saving lives be more scandalous than the high cost of, say, all these electronics we (or our children) have to have? Well at least in the future if your insurer goes broke you can console yourself that the pain will be spread globally (see link) . http://news.yahoo.com/s/csm/20100325/wl_csm/290215

Oh and here is a picture of the big green ball the day before Jesse put the "pokey thing" in it and it became mine.

Oh and when I fell apart this morning and sobbed when I wondered to myself if my real problem with the teaching uncertainty was the day to day uncertainty with both my mom and Caleb, I knew I'd hit the injured spot. It was like when I had appendicitis (both times, but that's another story) and the doctor pushed in the exact spot and the gernerally painful abdomen became quite ... focussed. Is there an -otomy for this? On the other hand if there was, given my history, they'd miss the stump.

Oh and Carolyn pointed out that not only does Jesse turn 5, and I turn 50 this year. She turns 21. That's it. No more birthdays.

Tha was almost 5 years ago. A little less so it must have been a later spring because those daffodils are all out right now. You can see Jesse wasn't really into the flowers then either. Today he just wanted to prune things. He pruned the big new green ball -and then it became my ball -which he was very sorry he had flattened.

Five years ago today I was finally up and moving (too much), so glad to be released from bed-rest it went to my head. I'd like that feeling back. Instead here I sit trying not to worry about if I'll still be teaching next fall. I decided not to worry about student evaluations anymore -so of course last night I stared out at them and stumbled over simple phrases because I was thinking, "Does that one look bored?, Was that a smirk? Oh good a head nod. My dozer is awake tonight. What did I just say?" I don't think I was as bad as that might sound- and I had very attractive PPt slides -some even had stick figure illustrations! All and all if I were 8 inches taller and bearded (and a male if I'm going for the facial hair) it would have been a fine lecture by a slightly (ever so slightly) absent minded professor. There is such a short distance between coming off as a little bit eccentric genius or a possibly incompetent, frazzled amateur -but I'm telling you it is surprisingly often measured in vertical inches (and if you are snickering right now that's the point). So I did still worry but today I am better. A faculty member (in charge of teaching assignments) is going to come in to observe me (my request but possibly already planned) so at least one evaluation will not be anonymous. And some nights I don't fumble and I'm pretty good - it's up to God if it's one of those nights or not. I just show up.

On the care taking front nobody is in the hospital. (but I'm not asking Caleb how he's doing in his classes -I don't want to know). I think it was a year ago this week that we started the shunt adventures. I think it is part of my general state of anxiety. He's made it alomst a year . When we have gone a full year since his discharge that will be good. It's silly. It's not rational. It's not medically meaningful. But I have been on edge the last 2 months partly wanting to get past April. And Mom turns 92. But first Jesse has to turn 5 and we have to have a bike parade/party and I have to make a cake. Or buy a cake. Or make a cake. Or buy one... or

Poof

Told you it went poof. Caleb had a seizure at midnight. While we were waiting for it (he has a long enough aura we could chat a bit first) I suggested this was because he had stayed up too late. No, he thought it was more likely to be because he had watched a "banned Pokemon video" - banned? I ask. Yes, he tells me, it was thought to cause seizures. Not a statistically significant sample here, but compellin as they say.

Up in flames

My mom and my sister gave me this rattan chair when Caleb was born so I would have some where comfy to sit while I expressed milk to take to the NICU. All the cross pieces were held together by plastic ties -not apparently the kind of plastic that will still be found in landfills a hundred years from now -although little bits of them can still be found in my bedroom carpet. Sitting on this chair had become (too much of) an adventure. The time had come, it had to go. But I wanted a noble end so on the fire it went. Moments after this it was aglorious blaze. Very satisfying even if a little sad but now I have room for a better chair.
Now how do I write what I wanted to say about taking care of my mom without it sounding related to this? It's not -exactly. But when I was doing yard work I was thinking about the difference in "care-taking" between taking care of my mom, Jesse, and Caleb. With my mom I can't look forward to a break. Never having to clean up the bathroom floor again, or get another (warmer, please) cup of coffee only goes with... no mom. I can't even think about it. So I can't think about having more time and less laundry on that account. With Jesse I grieve a little over every phase passed but it is alright to look forward to the time he needs less of my time -there's things I will miss and things to rejoice over in the future. I know (in my heart at least) eventually he will be dry all night every night (I do believe, I do believe). As far as Jesse goes, I can plan for a time I have more time without guilt -but there's not just Jesse so I can't because what kind of daughter would I be to find anything good in my mom being gone? And then there is Caleb, where I want to ... but I can't look forward to something that may not happen at all. This is not my clearest writing -it couldn't be could it? Not about the murkiest of my thoughts. Wanting to see a time to rest but not wanting to either. I'm still working this out. I'll keep you posted. Jesse at that age where all the future is exciting, my mom with mostly past and Caleb with little of either it feels. I'm going to go watch Monk with Bernie.

In Memorandum

A dear friends daughter picked this flower -and its leaves yesterday. When it was noticed she placed it all back on the ground, and when asked she said, "It was just a little unpicked." Also she pinted out that it was, "in the middle of no where." The flowers (now in a vase by my mom) I didn't mind, but the leaves... I told her they would have fed the plant. I wasn't mad but those poor litle leaves seemed so sad and pointless in that little bundle. I grieved just a little. I don't know if I will be rehired to teach next semester. There is some justice and some injustice in the pending decisions but it had been my goal for so long to teach, and some other hey-I-have-a-PhD-opportunities are also possibly moving on (with someone elses midlatelife crisis), and altogether I feel sympathy with those leaves. Wilting in the sun -if you sense the melodrama here -so do I. Doesn't seem to matter to my psyche though. Away it goes all the same. I am still feeling crushed - even not really knowing I won't be teaching. In fact several colleagues have told me they expect I will be but just not knowing for sure is enough to make me fret over every student comment. And I thought employment was supposed to be empowering... so I baked a cake.

Today's crocuses

Caleb told me on the way to the bus that he had a headache and that he had forgotten his seizure medication the night before -and also to write the "reaction paper" due today. So I left him for the bus with an extra prayer. But then this afternoon he called to say he could make up for the missed assignment by attending a lecture tonight and reacting to that. OK. Then I realize my husband is coming back from NJ and could bring home Caleb, late, but without my driving in and out of town. ... but that means no meds until late since (naturally as flowers in spring) Caleb didn't take any with him. This is how complicated simple arrangements become. Do we take a risk to avoid some extra driving -and the 4 yr old going to bed too late since he'd have to come along -actually that wins. I stay home awaiting either Caleb or a call from some distraught stranger holding his phone. I think I'll have some tea.

The lost weekend

Only lost in terms of blogging... We went for one more ski trip the end of February, the weekend they have this "race" for the adaptive skiers. There were about 14 participants, including about 6 legally blind participants -the youngest of whom was7 years old. There were 4 other skiers in these sit ski things like Caleb -some have one runner, some 2 (I think) and the "outriggers" can be fixed or as here held like crutches. At the end they had awards. We are not good parents -we would gladly have skipped this part. Everyone of course got a gold medal, but given in order of your best time. Caleb was last. And why I cared about that I have no idea but I cared anyway. Still he loved the sking and he got to do some the day before the race, and the volunteers stayed after for more sking in the afternoon. Jesse took lessons both days and then skied with his dad and sister and the offspring you'd expect to be snowboarding did that. At one point I realized all 4 of my children were "on the slopes" at the same time. I got pretty teary eyed -I wanted a gold medal.

We took my mom with us this time and I lost my head making the packing list before hand and started writing down all the meds and walking equipment and etcs etcs I needed to get into the car. By the time everyone went tubing I stayed with Grandma -not because she needed me, not because I don't love sliding down the mountain (and I'm pretty much a natural born tuber) but because I couldn't stand worrying if everyone was having fun anymore. So I watched the earthquake news (Chile) instead, and worried because my husband has family there. But it was still easier than trying to have fun. That's the sad old shape I'm in.

slow to upload

I'm not sure how this will go. I am still waiting for Blogger to open the page to upload photos -for the 3rd time. And contemplating how much productive time is lost waiting on computers. If I sat down at a typewrite I'd just type. No one would see it (as opposed you 3) but it would be all typing. all the time. And I wouldn't have lost my temper at my husband -I'm sure that is the computer's fault.

So now the picture is loaded and you can see this is the part of spring we were really waiting for. That's right. Bike riding.

And I made up with my husband but I am still in my funk and still find the world, my church, my family, my work ... annoying. God only knows what they find me.

(It takes both canes, and a chair every few feet but Grandma made it outside the first fine day.)

Spring and all that

This picture is from yesterday. The snow has almost all melted and there are the crocuses. The most delicate tough flower I know. All kinds of meaning can be taken from this -I'm not taking any at the moment.
It has simply been a tough month. We went skiing again with Caleb and Jesse and Carolyn came to meet us with our niece who goes to school near her. The fireplace rock climber came for part of the weekend. There was a "race" for the adaptive skiers. I was amzed to see these legally blind 8 year olds flying down the slopes. Caleb was in a sit ski thingy (technical term) -as were 3 toher skiers. He was the slowest. It shouldn't matter and of cousre it doesn't exatly since everybody got a medal but it still pinched me somehow.
We took my mom too and that was good. And not really any extra work. So it's not that but somehow the whole thing just didn't dent my general stress. Or depression, or whatever it is. Jesse did great, each of his 2 days of lessons. All my guys had fun -well the niece wasn't crazy about skiing but she enjoyed the tubing. I skipped that too. I was so done with planning everyone's good time that I knew if I went I would just worry about Jesse being too cold, or Bernie too tired or the girls too bored -not that any of them were any of these things. I just want to crawl into my hole and pull it in after me.
The week before I was in Food Lion and there was this familar looking woman -we smiled and did the sort of nod thing- giving some young man pointers on washing the glass fronts to the freezer section. I turned the corner and there were 3 or 4 more adolescents with another woman giving guidance, all washing glass doors. One of the boys had a walker behind him -like Caleb had in preschool. He looked a little like Caleb (less facial hair) and was working hard at the scrubbing. I just stood there staring. Now I recalled the familar woman had been at the local school. The other woman asked if I needed to get in the cases being worked on but since I was no where near them I knew she meant stop staring. "But I'm in the club," I wanted to say. "Hey, I know the secret hand shake." But I don't. I never figured it out. And to round this shopping trip out the cashier asked if I'd give a dollar to Easter Seals and I said, "No," because we did not have good experience with a summer camp through them. I'm not saying they aren't a great organization but we actually paid alot and had to solicit donations for part of the cost and it left a bad taste. So the guy behind me pretty loudly said yes. He would give a dollar. I could not explain why I kept the dollar or why I stared at that walker and that boy. I could just drive home and cry.

I'm going to try and be better scheduled for a while and see if that helps -I'm going to try and exercise more, and pray more, and even blog more (often not length!) . And if that doesn't work I am going to go and beg for new and improved hormones and ignore the studies.