"Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you." - Ovid
Randy gave me that. This brilliant artist I know who always seems to catch me at the right time with something profound.
One day, when this is all over I really hope I can look back and feel that way. I hope Ovid is right. One day when life is something closer to what I once remember - I hope with all my heart that this will be the case.
Maybe I am supposed to be an advocate for this disease? Maybe I am supposed to bring awareness?
That is a calling I can't even consider right now.
I don't think past the moment I am in anymore. I can't. As they say "the future is too uncertain for plans, and dreams have a way of falling down midflight." I don't dare anymore. It isn't worth the energy. If I did I would realize I should be Xmas shopping, and fretting over what color my tree is. Posting silly anecdotes on Facebook and worrying about who and what I will get people. And I would miss it. It would haunt me and I would feel even worse than I already do. I think it is a form of self preservation not being able to think ahead that much.
Usually I am asking Jason to be easy on my pocket this time of year. Of all the kids his taste are the most high class and champagne. His way of easing my pocket this year was to ask me for Invisalign; after I just finished my layaway plan over 6 years for his $3500 braces. Instead, of Invisalign I am pining over admission processes for "the best" rehabilitation centers for Jason.
As usual Jason is the most expensive child I have.
The good news is all the Ivy League rehabilitation centers are attainable. God has provided a way for Jason to get into the best facilities. The blessings are coming and they come in ways you do not necessarily expect but when the green lights start it is a pretty amazing feeling. Nothing makes me "happy" these days. But I am grateful. I am always humbly on my knees grateful for every gift I receive for Jason and when the news is good I will always share. I was worried, so worried and like always a prayer and positive thinking has paved the way for my exact request.
The bad news is, facilities can pick and choose who they want and it is based on availability. Praying for the best, praying for a good one and for God to make a way where there seems no way. His medical report card weighs heavily on where he goes. We need the best brain trauma center possible to curate my little nugget until he is back to himself. And he will be back to himself.
I have been selfless in this search. Only considering the best for him, no matter how far. In turn playing mental guerilla warfare with myself. There are places blocks from my house he is eligible for. But they aren't the best. They are just there. Like everyone we want the best for our children. Jason needs a place with intensive state of the art therapy, not a place with a bed who just got their paperwork. My mind will wander with insane imagery if I let it. Provoking me to the point of tears of all the "what-ifs" that could unrealistically happen at a place I cannot get to in 10 minutes. I am my own worse enemy, I know this. Like my own parent I tamp down the crazy and instruct the social worker to apply.
It is so hard to accept that this is life right now. I have cried so many times today for good reasons and some bad. The bad is mostly fear. How the hell am I going to manage a 2 hour drive away from Jason? Again, I can't think past the moment. Staying with him 24/7 in rehab is not really realistic - no matter how crazily I would attempt it. Again - I just can't think past the moment. The tears fall and the emotions rise up like a volcano, bringing on that maldita shake I just can't get rid of.
I have to do what is best for Jason. I have to figure out how to live through this. I have to figure out life now and how to get past this moment.
I will fry that fish tomorrow - when I fight with them again about how "fit' he is to leave the step-down unit.
I can't think past this moment.
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