So I have totally been procrastinating everything and sulking about
the universe since November. It seems like the world is devolving into a Lord
of the Flies bully fest where jerk offs are rewarded and everyone else is
labeled as prey or foolish. But you know what? Enough. I'm done. I cannot make
the world dance to my drumbeat even if it is the coolest, most awesomest, peace,
love, and granola drumbeat you'll ever get to hear. And all my pouting isn't
gonna do a thing except bug those I care about and eventually cause me to get on
my own nerves. Which I have. Right about this weekend.
Feisty Pants had a crappy weekend. (Ten people went to my
folks for Christmas. Five now are battling a hideous cold known as the plague
that won't quit.) We spent Friday night at a walk in clinic and Saturday at an
ER. She's fine now but it's soul wearying to spend days in a hospital setting
when you are not working there and therefore are simply in an enforced waiting
period; especially with Feisty Pants, who is a complex patient, and whose every
hiccup makes doctors have three intense, whispered conversations with each
other about what it means.
So, now, enough. I'm tired and crabby. All my whining is
getting on my own nerves. I'm putting my attitude into time out and it's not
welcome back until it knows how to behave in public. Which brings me to my
point. Action of some kind is what usually snaps me out of a funk. I was
reading this morning about an actress whose infant son had a skull fracture and
this scared the hell out of said actress. It was hard when FP was born and we
sat, terrified and gobsmacked, waiting for the next
doctor/nurse/therapist/specialist/witchdoctor/priest to come around and spout an
entire medical text of jargon and scary what ifs and what could bes at us, and
we were expecting terrible news due to her birth injury. And I grew up with
disabled siblings so I never had to have that heart broken "but it only happens
to other people" moment. I can only imagine what it's what like for a parent
whose trauma literally comes out of nowhere. There must be something we can do
to help a bit more for the parent first stumbling down this road.
Soooooo, I got up this morning and looked at my safety
pin on my coat and had a thought. I know there a million therapy groups and
online sites and facebook groups. But I was never one for too many group
anythings. (Honestly I was always a Wednesday Addams in a world of normals...)
Isn't there something we can all do, like a safety pin but different, to let the
next parent just falling out of bed and stumbling down this road know we are
least good for a few pieces of advice, a cup of coffee or at least a safe ear
to spout at??? Something that's totally informal and simply says, "We've been where you are and it's cool to approach us." What do you think? Any ideas?
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