I have said many times that I love our neurosurgeon. I'm saying it again. I really love that guy. Dr. Jacobs has done four of Roman's five surgeries. I've trusted this man with Roman's life four times. That's kind of a huge deal. However, I'm seeking a second opinion. That doesn't mean Dr. Jacobs is wrong, it just means I want to make sure Dr. Jacobs isn't wrong. *chuckle*
My original plan was to go to The Chiari Institute and be cured within 3 minutes. Well, apparently they need more time than that AND our insurance won't cover us to go there, because it's stankin` old New York State. So the search began to find a chiari specialist in PA. 3 whole, long days later...
GOTCHA! Dr. Pollack has a list of amazing awards, publications and board certificates that would amaze..well, me..and that's all that really matters *double chuckle*
On the eve of Christmas eve we will meet him for the first time at *yawwnn* 8AM! Oh, did I mention he's in Pittsburgh? I'm so excited to meet this guy, I have such a good feeling that he's going to save us. Don't let me down, Pollack!
In other news Roman's AFO's are in! I thought I would be dreading it, I'm not! I'm really quite sane about the whole thing! And for me, that's a pretty amazing feat! We just need to meet Bob once more so he can give us a little AFO 101 and then it's Dino party time! Dinoooo dinoo partayyyyy dinooooo
I really should try to break this into a double blog entry but then I'd have to work the mouse and it hates me so here is blog number two!
Hey everybody! Gosh, it's been literally 3 minutes. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting like that. Welcome to my Miracle on Morgan Ave themed blog entry!
Seriously, corny jokes aside I have been unusually more emotional than normal. And my normal is pretty crazy, I'm not kidding.
So, I've been a weepy mess. It happens. When I start to feel weepy and sad and totally helpless I ALWAYS go to my Babycenter gang first thing. As a rule, if they can't help me nobody can, and I should be taken to the nearest hospital immediately.
Luckily, Thankfully, Fortunately, Appreciatively, that's never happened. They have NEVER let me stay weepy for too long. Recently, in my midnight moment of weakness I stumbled there trying to get cheered up. Before I could even post anything I saw a funny headline, something that just stuck out to me, 'Welcome to Holland" What, what, what? Of course I checked it out and I'm so glad I did. I know it sounds cheesy but it's what my cheesy heart feels. This poem lifted me up. (stop laughing, Jessie.) It really cheered me up and I can't stop reading it. Here it is:
“Welcome to Holland" By Emily Perl Kingsley, 1987
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss. But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland."
I'm proud to say that even though I still feel sad some of the time, I really love it here in Holland.
Okay, wipe your tears and read my farewell.
Now, as this was a doozy of a blog it will be my last until after the holidays. I look forward to sharing all of our Christmas antics with you, my beloved 7 followers. I hope you'll share yours with me.
Also, HAVE A MERRY STANKIN` CHRISTMAS!