With my first dose of steroids into me on Tues. and the second dose taken early Weds. Morning I decided it would be fun to try to jump right back into life.
J and I had all ready taken our “tough” stance with X who has been acting like a sugar crazed Christmas junkie for the past three weeks, whining, whining, and whining.
We laid down the law and now he has to earn all electronics with good behavior.
Even the “Santa is coming” didn’t work to curb his breakdowns.
I’m sure that my depressed
affect also contributed to his behavior. He’s been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, obviously it worsens when mine dose, no matter how hard I try to hide it.
But with just a little incentive he woke up in
the morning and gave me a back rub in hopes of earning Mario Bros.
We got to school early with sleds and Ms. Thurber’s Pampered Chef order in tow.
I dragged his wheeled bag in and he carried his teacher’s precious stoneware (He’s the safer one of the two of us).
I jacked my oxygen up to 3L and hopped out of the car, only to start gasping for breath by the time I made it to the door, even with my calf length down parka and scarf over my nose, tucked securely into my glasses to keep from shocking my lungs.
Thankfully good Miss Rogers was waiting at the door to point out my line had caught and was in my nose but not attached to the O2 tank.
That was exhausting feat number one for the day.
I guess steroids are not miracles.
I feel like Jacob Marley, Scrooges partner, who is destined to an eternity of carrying heavy chains to atone for his sins.
Except, clearly, I’m still alive, and epitomizing what it’s like to carry a cross.
I did manage to attack most the presents before falling asleep at 10:30.
I woke up 2pm to pick up X and shop for some last minute presents with X and mom.
Walmart was a zoo and mom decided I needed not only a wheelchair, but a motorized scooter, which would have been fine had X not been determines to try to drive.
The walmart trip was a fiasco, leaving both X and I so pissed off we had to separate, he going to my mom’s house while I relaxed at home.
He also had a break down in the car that he had forgotten to mail his letter to Santa and thought he wouldn’t be getting a single present this year.
This is how anxiety shows in a child.
It’ll get better as I improve. I’m hoping the improvement will be leaps and bonds by tomorrow.
I have a little man expecting a miracle.
The evening did go better.
My grandparents showed up from Florida for the week, then J and I made the trek to the parent’s for dinner.
Most of the family is home for the holidays minus Heather, Allen and their kids who are spending Christmas morning at their home in Mass.
I was able to fall asleep early (6:30) for the night, waking twelve hours later despite the 50 mg of prednisone I'm taking. Hopefully, I'll be able to stay up a little later tonight, especially since dinner starts at 6:30.
Tonight it’s church and dinner with friends and family. Brynn’s coming for dinner, and hopefully, I’ll get my great big grin back that the family has been missing so much.
Below is the latest update from my father, who unfortunately has lost the hopeful touches he generally adds at the end of his notes. This has been a very difficult 4 months. But good times will hopefully come around again, and Christmas time is the perfect time for miracles, just read the news health care legislation passed through the senate.