Stories to tell

Sometime I should tell you about the tree that fell on the house. February 17, this year. We're "in line" for repairs now. Also, you would like to hear about homeschooling, wouldn't you? I knew it! Then there's the reason I named this blog "Dura Mater" and all the irony it now holds. How about the time my two oldest aerosolized peanut butter and I was certain that I was raising up sociopaths? What happens when you hit a deer and then a pickup full of crazy cussing people, pulling a full horse trailer hits you? I know. I should share that sometime.

Let's see, what else? How about getting rear-ended by a sweet young thing named Madonna? Her husband was Sean. No kidding.

The latest installment in our no rest for the weary play is that the pipe running from the water main to the house is leaking. Apparently, quite significantly. It's weird, isn't it? It seems like there should perhaps be, oh, a break in the insanity?

Speaking of which, I finally contacted the neurologist's office yesterday. Turns out the transcriptionist had gone on a two week vacation and nothing from the date of our office visit will be transcribed until maybe next week. Argh!! How am I supposed to get the ball rolling on this vision therapy thing? Are we new here on this planet? I need this paperwork to beat the insurance people into accepting a recommendation for referral.

Q's usual therapist was out sick today, so a different nice lady saw him. She worked much more quickly with him, I think pushing him a little further than he was comfortable with (not a bad thing, in itself). He was tired out by the time we were half an hour into the 50 minute appointment. I sat down to nurse the squawky little man and the OT came in for her consult. We talked about his over-pronating with closed fists, his pinky that "cliffs," his double jointed thumb that is tight in a whole different way, and how to work the whole hand so it doesn't compromise the integrity of his finger joints or the curve of his palm. She used the big words. I like her. Not just for that, she's compassionate and knows her stuff and was funny too, but it's so much easier for me if the "technical" terms are used--they are consistent, unlike most explanations offered a parent by certain professional people. Now that I think about it, the CTU folks are probably far likelier to use the big words because they are engaged in handling chronic conditions with long-term therapy in order to acheive the best outcome for their patients. They are almost certainly painfully aware that most parents come into this stuff without much previous knowledge, but volunteer to put themselves on a very sharp learning curve.

Anyway, the OT will get the pre-authorization stuff rolling and then Q will have molds done and will get these soft little cork and neoprene numbers for using while he pushes up from his tum, and two pair of neoprene mitts for daytime wear. They are soft enough to not keep him from sucking his thumb (which is therapy in itself), but firm enough to continually suggest to his thumbs that they would be far happier out away from his fingers.

The reason this is such a big deal now is that if left to develop on it's own, excess tone will start to freeze up the fascia and then the muscle and tendons become tighter and tighter until perhaps one is dealing with something like contractures. We will not be doing that, thank you very much. Hence, all the great stuff from the OT has me jumping up and down. I like to have something to do. Also, it occurred to me today that I know a hand OT who I'm pretty sure would be happy to lend me a little perspective and advice. Can you believe it? Here Q is doing hand issues first, before any others that need addressing, and I know a hand OT! Miracles, miracles everywhere and I didn't even have to argue with Miracle Max or swallow an enormous chocolate coated pill or come back from the dead! (If you haven't seen The Princess Bride, you should.) Ahhh.

It's all good. Or it will be. :o)

I hope you have a peaceful weekend and that all the water at your house is right where it should be, on an individual basis, of course. Think of us, will you?

Thanks. Rest well.